#I have *not* been able to stop thinking about:

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: The Fawn Instinct.

Pairing: Yandere!BatFam x Reader (DC).

Word Count: 5.0k.

TW: Implied Non/Con, Implied Dub/Con, Kidnapping, Prolonged Captivity, Social Isolation, Stalking, Obsessive Behavior, and No Actual Incest, But Boy If Those Freaks Aren't Trying. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

If it’d only been Bruce, you might’ve been able to live with it.

You didn’t love him, but you could imagine a world where you tried to. Most of it was circumstance; as upset as you were about the whole kidnapping thing, it wasn’t exactly a Herculean feat to endear yourself to the idea of being a handsome vigilante millionaire’s stay-at-home captive-spouse. You had no room in your heart for the stoic, reclusive, untouchable Bruce Wayne, but you could remember the adoration you’d once held for your masked hometown hero, the pride that’d once given you the force of will to all-but carry a half-conscious man in a torn cowl and a familiar suit into your apartment and lie to the cops when they came knocking. If the conditions had been different, if he’d spent a little more time as something more intimate than a stranger and a little less damning than a captor, then maybe, you could convince yourself to love him. Or, convince yourself to try, at least.

But, the conditions weren’t different, and you’d never quite had the time you would’ve needed to align Bruce Wayne with his more heroic alter ego. It’d been doomed from the start – Icarus jumping from his tower, already knowing his wings were destined to fall apart.

That aside, though, there was the more glaring issue: all his fucking kids.

Calling them kids might’ve been too generous, actually. Only Damian and Duke were younger than eighteen, and as far as you were concerned, they were your saving graces – Duke for meeting the bare minimum requirements for human decency and Damian for adamantly denying you were anything but an unwanted burden on his father. The rest were more-or-less adults, as little as you wanted to acknowledge the nonexistent age-gap between you and your gaggle of stepchildren. They were grown. They should’ve known better.

Tim, for example. He had to be… what? Nineteen? It wasn’t the pinnacle of maturity, sure, but he should’ve known you’d be able to hear your own sheets rustling through the bedroom door, should’ve assumed that you’d know he’d know Bruce would be out on patrol until sunrise. He should’ve known to wait until you were in another wing of the sprawling Wayne estate, somewhere far away from the master bedroom, or better yet, skipped rummaging through your things entirely. You knew better than to dream, though.

The door was still shut, but what was happening behind it and who was responsible were both foregone conclusions.  It was Tim, because of course it was Tim, and he going through your meager possessions, because what else would he wait until Bruce was gone to do? Cringing, you rested your shoulder against the steady wood and knocked gingerly. “…Drake? Are you in there?”

Immediately, the rustling stopped. You went on. “I think Bruce is out, if you need him. Is there something you’re trying to find?”

It was a good out. An easy out. Thankfully, he was smart enough to take the bait. A few seconds later, the door cracked, a disheveled Tim emerging with a dark blush spread over his pale cheeks and his hands shoved conspicuously deep into the pockets of his hoodie. It was a struggle not to roll your eyes. He couldn’t have been more obvious if he’d come out with his dick still in his hand.

Your cheeks ached as you put on your dozenth unstrained, unworried, everything’s-fine-because-why-wouldn’t-it-be smile of the day and moved aside to let him out. “I’ll let him know you were looking for him when he gets home,” you assured, like you couldn’t see the way his bright eyes were fixed to the carpeting. “I’m sorry I can’t be more help. You all are just so heroic – it’s still a little hard to believe I’m a part of this at all.”

“You’re perfect,” he muttered, and you pretended not to hear him, cocking your head to the side. When he corrected himself, his voice was a bit louder, a bit clearer. “Don’t worry, I… I found what I was looking for. You don’t have to bother Bruce.”

“Oh, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. He’s so proud of you and your siblings, after all – it’s practically all he talks about.” A lie, but a fair one to tell. There was no reason Tim should have to know Bruce spent the majority of your time alone with his teeth buried somewhere in your neck, muttering paranoid fantasies about how many different ways you could be killed, mutilated, or otherwise indisposed by the members of his rouges gallery. “Honestly, sometimes, it’s hard not to feel like I’ve been here for years, rather than just a couple of months.”

You only realized your mistake when those bright eyes shot to you, suddenly wide and blown out with desperation. A hand darted towards you, and you stumbled out of the way, but not quickly enough to avoid Tim’s vice-grip on your forearm, to spare yourself the feeling of something cold and wet sinking into your sleeve. “You’re leaving?” The words seemed to slur together, spilling out too quickly to be restrained or refined. “You can’t leave. Bruce won’t be able to handle it, and Steph, she’ll—I mean, security-wise, we won’t be able to make sure you’re—”

Internally, you were keeping up a steady mantra of ‘Thisissogrossthisissogrossthisissogross.’

Externally, by some miracle, your smile never wavered, only growing sweeter as you cut him off with a chirping laugh. “I’m not going anywhere,” you promised, and then, after a slight lapse, “Would you mind letting go of me? It’s—uh, it’s kind of starting to hurt.”

As if on a switch, he let go of you entirely, pulling away as abruptly as he lashed out. There was a mumbled ‘I’m sorry’, and he made a swift retreat, disappearing around the next corner before you could so much as think about bringing up Bruce, again. You watched him go, only letting your expression fall once you were sure he was out of sight.

Without further caution, you slipped into your bedroom, glazing over the mess of pulled-out drawers, overturned clothes and scattered dirty laundry in favor of falling into bed, rolling onto your chest, and screaming into your pillow as loudly and for as long as your lungs would allow.

~

You tried your best never to be alone. It was a little draining, to be honest – having to keep a running chart in the back of your mind of who you could trust and who you couldn’t, constantly trying to guess whether it’d be safer to be alone with someone or if you were better off taking your chances on your own – but you’d learned your lesson the first time you’d fallen asleep in the Wayne’s at-home movie theater and woken up to Cassandra spread over you like a human weighted blanket, staring unblinkingly at your face and playing half-consciously with your hair. You tried not to leave yourself unguarded, after that.

Alfred was your first choice, Barbra your second, with Bruce as a distant third. Sometimes, you could get away with loitering near Damian (something you hated nearly as much as he did – you could only stand to be addressed as his father’s “jezebel lover” so many times), but Bruce was at one of Damian’s school events, leaving them both conveniently unavailable, and Alfred would be locked inside of his underground shooting range for another hour and a half, an activity you knew better than to interrupt. Meaning, you were on your own.

Meaning, you’d picked a very bad time to need something to drink.

The kitchen was deathly quiet, but you still made an effort to keep your head on a swivel as you made your way carefully to a corner cabinet, like stepping on the wrong tile would trigger a pit trap, or a flurry of arrows, or one of another million terrible things you hadn’t thought were possible before Bruce dedicated himself so entirely to proving you wrong. Mentally, you reviewed your haphazardly assembled schedule as you fumbled with the wood paneling and reached for a mug from the highest shelf. Tim was definitely out, touring local colleges on Bruce’s behest, Step was supposed to be in class, and Dick—

Your fingertips made contact with cool ceramic half a second before another, larger palm wrapped around yours, a broad chest pressing into your back as your mug was stolen out of your hand. You didn’t have to look to know who it was.

And Dick was on bed rest with three broken ribs. Right. Of course.

You really shouldn’t have bothered leaving your room at all. Suddenly, dehydration didn’t sound like such a bad way to go.

“Let me get that, baby bird.” You cringed at the petname, but nodded, letting Dick confiscate your mug and with it, your ability to make a swift exit from a conversation you’d rather not have. “Green tea, right? I know it’s your favorite.”

“On the mark as always, Dick.” There was just enough enthusiasm in your voice to overshadow the despair. You waited until you heard the muted click of an electric kettle before turning around and settling against the counter. “I wish you wouldn’t dote on me, though. I already feel useless enough as it is.”

“Don’t sweat it, I’ve been going stir-crazy all week.” He flashed you a quick smile – tooth and beaming – before pulling open the silverware drawer and rummaging through it, like Alfred would keep his teabags with his cutlery. He was topless, wearing the same pair of black sweatpants he must’ve slept in. He didn’t plan to go out, clearly, and it wasn’t like you had much of an alternative. “This is just the basics, too. For a while there, I had your breakfast, lunch, and midnight snack preferences memorized.”

You forced yourself to smile, albeit, not as brightly as him. “…did you, now?”

“Mhm. B had us running in-person surveillance before he finally bit the bullet and brought you home, and—” He cut himself off with a sudden laugh, shaking his head. “And, I wasn’t supposed to tell you that part. Oops.”

Mercifully, the kettle whistled before you could start to consider the implications, and you reached behind you, fishing two bags out of a teacup-shaped jar. It was easy enough to edge him out of the way, but not having to worry about pretending he’d ever made himself a cup of tea meant he could devote more of his energy to talking, so you still managed to lose, in the end. “He’s stingier with the surveillance footage, now. I’ve never seen him so jealous.”

“He can definitely be a little overprotective.”

You tried to keep your tone even, polite, but Dick was like his siblings – quick to action and slow to take a hint. A hand curled around the counter next to you, and you dumped an extra spoonful of sugar into the darkening water. “It’s just us in the manor, right?”

Another spoonful, just to be safe. “I think Alfred is—”

“Out for the day. Wayne Enterprise emergency – I let him know as soon as he finished down in the range.” In your peripheral, you watched his other hand come to rest on your opposite side, caging you in. “I wouldn’t mind the company, if you were starting to get lonely.”

Another spoonful. It’d be too sweet to drink, but anything not to have to look at him. “I’m afraid wouldn’t be a lot of fun, Grayson. Honestly, I was just planning on getting a little sle—”

“That’s perfect,” he cut in, too eager to wait his turn. “I’m a great cuddler.”

You curled your hand around your mug, hoping the warmth would be enough to ground you. Instead, it only burnt your palm, and for a second, you could imagine a world where your teeth weren’t buried in the plush of your cheek, where you didn’t have to remind yourself that turning around and splashing boiling-hot water on an all-but superhero’s face wasn’t a good idea. For a second, you genuinely considered it.

And then, a sound not totally dissimilar to thunder filled the kitchen; loud enough to leave your ears ringing and your adrenaline spiked. You flinched into yourself, but it only took a moment for fear to shift to relief as you noticed the bullet lodged into the wood less than an inch from your head. Your expression lit up just as Dick’s fell.

Without waiting for him to let you go, you slipped away – sprinting across the kitchen and throwing yourself into Jason’s – brave, bold, beautiful Jason – chest. He caught you one hand and finished re-holstering his handgun with the other, laughing as you hugged him as tightly as you could manage. Dick huffed, playful offense failing to mask real agitation, and you felt Jason brace against you. “Jerk off and shut the fuck up, Oedipus.”

Dick’s smile turned uneasy. “It’s good to see you too, man.”

“I didn’t come here for you,” he snapped, as short-tempered with his siblings as you wished you could be. He looked down, holding you that much tighter. “How’s my best girl holding up?”

“I’m just fine, Jason. I do think we have to have a talk about how you treat your brother, though.” You glanced over your shoulder to Dick. “A little privacy? You really ought to be staying off your feet, too.”

Reluctantly, Dick slinked out of the kitchen, hesitant to go but eager to nurse his wounds. You only went on once you were sure he was gone.

“It’s been awful. I found another hidden camera in my bedroom, and I think Tim’s tapping my—”

“I’ll do a sweep.”

He let you go, but you caught his arm. “Please, I know it’s important, but—” You cut yourself off, swallowing. It was irrational – the way you let your guard down so quickly around Jason. The mask never slipped around anyone else, whether you were afraid of them or they were one of your rare, precious exceptions. Jason existed outside of the Wayne family, though, outside of Bruce’s corrupting influence. He wasn’t going to hurt you. More importantly, he wasn’t going to let anyone else hurt you, either.

“But I really don’t want to think about that, right now,” you finished. “Just… just for a little while, alright? I don’t want to constantly feel like I’m walking on eggshells, at least not while you’re here.”

Jason stood strong for all of three seconds. With the fourth, he sighed, buckled, and shook his head, his exasperation brimming with affection. “How long until Bruce gets home?”

“Six more hours. He’s not due to check-in for another three.”

“I’ve got my bike out front. How do you think he’d feel about a joy ride?”

And just like that, you lit up. “It’d give him a heart attack.”

Jason pulled you close, kissing the top of your head.

“Perfect.”

~

Unfortunately, Jason’s visits were few and far between. You had to find ways of fending for yourself, in the downtime.

“I miss the city.”

Bruce glanced over his shoulder, gaze flickering over you before returning to the buttons of his dress-shirt. You sunk that much deeper into the mess of sheets and pillows, taking some small amount of solace in the way the cool silk felt against your warm skin.

(Sex wasn’t something Bruce came to you for often, but when he did, you gave it to him willingly, albeit with no more enthusiasm than was absolutely necessary. You rarely enjoyed it and always regretted everything you did or said during the act, but it was better than the alternative. Part of you trusted him, trusted Batman, enough to believe that he’d take your refusal for what it was, that you wouldn’t have to say anything more than ‘no’. The remaining overwhelming majority was able to look around you, to remember the way he’d held you down as he forced a needle stocked with medical-grade sedatives into your throat, and recognize that your opinion probably didn’t mean very much to him. Still, you couldn’t let things get that bad. Even if you had to surrender every other facet of your being, you couldn’t let things get that bad.)

“You hated the city. You said your landlord was a tyrant and that even the criminals were living paycheck-to-paycheck.” And then, after a second of thought, “And that there were more rats in Gotham than people.”

“Well, he was, they are, and you know I love animals.” You pushed yourself up, keeping a sheet bunched against your chest as you slumped against the headboard. “I was tired and overworked – you could see that. But, things would be different if I was staying with, say, my wealthy trillionaire boyfriend in one of the penthouse apartments that I know he has because his youngest son got in trouble for bragging about them in school last week?”

Bringing up his kids was a dirty tactic – the fastest way to get Bruce’s undivided attention. This time, when his eyes shifted in your direction, they stayed there, and he made his way back to your side of the bed. He collapsed next to you and, with no resistance on your end, pulled you into his lap. He didn’t seem to care whether or not his immaculately tailored, freshly pressed suit was creased in the process, but you did your best not to squirm. “You want to leave the manor?”

The first half of a frown tugged at the corner of your lips. “That’s not what I—”

“Elevated pulse, avoidant eye-contact,” he muttered. “Something’s bothering you.”

It wasn’t a question. He wasn’t wrong, either, but still. You would’ve preferred to be asked.

“…it’s your family,” you admitted, feigning guilt. “They’re all—” Horny, depressed, creepy little orphans. “—great kids, but it’s just been so much so quickly, and I think it… I think it might’ve been too much too quickly. For them and for me.”

“They adore you, if that’s what you’re worried about. Dick was close to moving back in when I decided it was too dangerous to leave you to your own devices.”

You melted into his chest, sighing. Reflexively, he curled around you – a good thing, if a bit claustrophobic. Bruce liked feeling like a shield between you and harm, between you and the world he couldn’t control. Hopefully, eventually, he’d realize he had more to shield you from than greedy landlords and villains who always seemed to be just out of sight. “It’s not that easy. It’s just been such a rocky adjustment period, and…” You curled your hand around his wrist and squeezed, hoping the force would be enough to communicate what you couldn’t put a word to. “I’m really afraid something bad might happen, Bruce.”

For a moment, he seemed to consider it. There was a kiss to your shoulder, solemn and lingering, then another to your cheek, more fleeting. “I’ll talk to them. They’ll give you space, if they’re told to.”

If he told them to. You doubted you held much authority, here. “And the apartment in the city? On the highest floor, tall enough to see from Gotham to New York?”

Bruce smiled, and your heart soared.

Then, he started talking, and it crashed back down, dying upon impact. “Once I know it’s safe for you, sweetheart.”

There was another kiss, this one to the nape of your neck, then another, lower down on your spine. A calloused hand slipped underneath the sheet still hugged against your chest, and you allowed it to.

Honestly, it would’ve been kinder if he’d cut you into pieces and fed you to the wolves himself.

~

You made a run for it as soon as the arguing started.

Arguing, not yelling – the distinction was minor, but significant. Yelling would’ve meant an injury, or a mission gone wrong, or something else that signaled a sudden complication that couldn’t be smoothed over with sugar-sweet sentimentality or orders issues with an ice-cold strictness. Yelling would’ve meant Bruce didn’t mind letting you overhear, which usually meant you didn’t need to be involved. Arguing, all hushed whispers and hissed explanations and vague warnings, was different. Arguing meant, more often than not, that they were arguing about you.

It was Tim’s fault, as far as you could tell. Barbara had been the one to find the conspicuously encrypted file on one of Dick’s civilian devices, the one to mention it to Stephanie as a point of concern who went to Tim within the hour, but it was still his fault. He’d gotten Bruce involved, let his need for approval tip the tenuously balanced scales that kept his family whole and you safe. He’d talked them all into waiting until Dick was close enough to confront in-person, stopping by for his weekly equipment pick-up and check-in. He was the reason you’d gotten close enough to hear something about ‘pictures’ and ‘inappropriate use of reconnaissance material’ before fleeing to the mansion’s foyer – the only part of the house you could be sure wasn’t occupied. If you were lucky, you’d only be there for half an hour or so, enough time for them to compromise on some non-solution and return to your carefully maintained status quo. If you weren’t, you’d spend the early hours of the morning—

Something small but forceful hit the nearest window, shortly followed by another projectile, then another. The glass was too thick and the world outside too dark to make anything out, but you didn’t need to see anything to know who’d come to your rescue.

Jason.

You rushed to the door, then hesitated. Jason would only get a slap on the wrist for luring you out of the estate, and Bruce could never bring himself to be that strict with you, but now might’ve been a bad time. Tensions were already running high. Your little disappearing act wouldn’t—

A sudden rush of footsteps clattering through the ceiling from the floor above you, hushed voices raised just to the point of audibility. None of it was entirely coherent, but Dick’s came the closest. You managed to make out a half-choked “If you’d just let me—” before someone cut him off.

With your better judgement reduced to buzzing static, you pried open the closer of a pair of huge, mahogany doors and slipped out of the estate entirely.

Of course, Jason was waiting outside, a small stock of pebbles still in his left hand and, of course, you threw yourself at him, letting him catch and spin you twice before setting you back onto your feet with an airy laugh. A pitch-black sports car was waiting at the end of the driveway, the engine purring loudly enough to drown the rest of the world out. “Rough night?”

“You have no fucking idea,” you muttered, breathless. “I don’t care where we go, just get me out of here.”

There was a reason Jason was your favorite. There was no argument, no prying, just his arm around your waist as he herded you into the passenger seat. Fifteen minutes and a little over fifty miles later, the mansion was little more than a dull glow on the horizon, and you could pretend you’d stopped thinking about Bruce entirely.

There was no effort to make conversation, as bad as you felt about pulling Jason into your prolonged tryst with self-pity. Instead, you sunk into the leather of his seat and fixed your gaze on the passing landscape, clinging to any detail you were able to latch onto as it flew by. It was possible, between the subways and boarded-over windows and perpetually overcast skies, to go days without seeing the sun in Gotham. Still, your life had felt brighter there than it ever did in Bruce’s estate.

Jason turned down a road you didn’t recognize, and you managed to find your voice. “Are we going into the city?”

“Even better.” He flashed you a smile, the engine purring as he accelerated. “You’ll like it, I promise. Just sit tight.”

As if you had much of a choice.

Road gave way to forest, forest to empty plains, and empty plains to the dilapidated remains of what you could only label as a long-abandoned amusement park – like Disney World if there’d been some terrible, possibly nuclear accident followed by twenty or so years of absolute neglect. Jason’s car glided past the rusted remains of an iron gate, past the corpses of rides buckled under their own weight, and came to a stop in front of a paint-stripped merry-go-round almost entirely sheeted be vines and weeds and overgrowth. You let out a low whistle as he threw the gear shift into park and, for the first time in any vehicle you’d ever shared with him, pulled his keys out of the ignition. He’d always left the engine running while visiting the mansion, but then again, you’d always been pretty eager to make a hasty escape, too.

“I love it, Jason. I’ve always wanted to get tetanus from a broken down carnival.”

“A fair, actually,” he corrected, slipping his keys into his jacket pocket. Like he expected you to try and steal them while his back was turned, or something. “My parents used to take me here, before I met B. There weren’t a lot of Ferris wheels after that.”

There was a short lapse, the sound of lips moving against teeth. You made the mistake of humming, of glancing over to him, of leaving yourself open for another question, and Jason, as nice as he was, was more than happy to take advantage of you. “So, when did you and B start…”

He trailed off, drumming his fingers against the wheel. You filled in the rest with a breathy chuckle. “When did I start sleeping with your dad?”

He jabbed an elbow into your side. “First of all, you can admit you’re fucking him or call him my dad, but you’ve gotta pick one.” You opened your mouth, already ready to spit out some dumb joke about what Bruce would’ve preferred to be called, but Jason cut in, sniping your stupid joke out of the air. “Secondly, answer the question. I get enough of your diversions back at home.”

“Being a buzzkill must run in family,” you sighed, but gave in quickly enough. “It happened once before the whole kidnapping thing, when he was staying at my apartment and sleeping off a broken leg. I hadn’t even seen him without his mask on at that point, but I figured it was a sign – destiny, or something.” You did your best to smile, slumping against the door. “It was dumb. He gave me a couple weeks after bringing me to the estate, mostly because of the crying and stuff, but things started up again pretty quickly.”

“Do you… like it?”

“Do you like asking about your dad’s sex life?” He flinched back, and laughing, you went on. “I guess I don’t care. There’s not a lot else to do.” You swallowed. “Would it matter if I didn’t?”

For someone with so many questions, he didn’t leave a lot of time for yours, the hypocrite. Moving on swiftly, he asked, “And the others, have they…?”

“No.” And then, after a beat, “Not yet.”

He seemed to relax, at that. His back was still straight, his shoulders still squared, but his grip on the wheel loosened, his jaw unclenching ever so slightly. You tried the handle – locked. Obviously. As if you’d ever get that lucky.

His voice was soft, sweet. The kind of tone you’d use on a child, or an animal, or a doll. “This would probably be easier in the backseat, right?”

“Let me out.”

“So you can go where,baby? It’s just us out here.” He laughed, resting a hand on your thigh. You slammed your shoulder into the door. It didn’t budge. “Hey, hey, this doesn’t need to get rough. I’m not going to be like Dick. The others – they’ll do it wrong, treat you like a cut of meat they have to get to before anybody else. I just need to make sure you get out of this in one piece.”

Nails embedded in leather, body crammed as far from him as you could force it be. You weren’t hyperventilating, but only because you’d stopped breathing entirely. “Let me out, Jason.”

“I love the way you say my name. It’s pretty, and delicate – just like you.” He sighed, shook his head. “I know you don’t get it, but I’m just trying to take care of you, like you’ve been taking care of me for the past few—”

“Stop acting like I’m your mom.” A sob fractured the final syllable, another bubbling up from deep in your chest a moment later. Your body was beyond the point of rationality, but the soft, preservational part of your mind wasn’t so beyond the point of seeking refuge. There was a way out of this, as ghoulish as it seemed. You couldn’t stop it from happening, but you could make it better. You’d regret it in an hour, when it came time to explain yourself to Bruce, but what happened in an hour didn’t matter, not if you couldn’t survive the next few minutes.

You might’ve done it, too – or, you might’ve tried, at least. You wanted to. You planned to. And yet, when you opened your mouth, there was only one thing you could seem to say. “I don’t want to do this, Jason.”

His nails bit into your thigh, his smile easing at the corners. For a second, you almost thought he’d pull away. For a second, you almost thought he’d sigh, straighten back up, and admit this was all part of some cruel, unfunny joke that the two of you would remember fondly, later on.

Then, he laughed and leaned forward, lips brushing against the top of your head. You felt him speak before you heard his voice, but the cloying reverberation alone was enough to tell you that you would’ve been better off never saying anything at all.

“Welcome to the family, sweetheart.”

[softbabybelle]

𝜗𝜚 c!w. sibling issues, reader has a mean!older sister, self-doubt, crying, soft!rafe, one thousand percent self indulgent.

mia - (sister's name)

"what's wrong with you, huh?" rafe cameron's voice came out smooth as butter. you felt him nudge your arm with his elbow.

you only shrugged in response, not feeling all that well enough to use your voice.

you were sitting on the couch of tannyhill, snuggled close to rafe. he picked you up every friday night from your house, then sat you snug on the couch, filled you up with all the wrong kinds of foods and put on whatever movie your heart would desire.

tonight, it was the princess diaries. you'd been excited all week to show rafe the movie you'd adored so dearly. you told him before that you were educating him on all the things he missed out on.

as excited as you'd been all week, rafe noticed that tonight you couldn't seem to so much as train your eyes on the tv.

"you're in a mood." it wasn't a question, more of a statement as he studied your face. you were close to him by all means, hands wrapping around his arm and head leaning against his bicep.

but you were quiet, you had been since he picked you up over an hour ago. you were staring at this one spot on the ground, rafe swore that by the time you looked away, you'd burn a hole in the carpet. "'m not." you answered sheepishly, turning your nose up at him.

he could tell you were trying to put on this brave face, the one you often tried to put on around him, and failed effortlessly.

he frowned at you.

at the beginning of the relationship, you'd been so closed off, not wanting to bother him with all the the things 'wrong' with you. but he thought you'd grown out of that by now.

"c'mere." he didn't give you much adjustment, already pulling you to seat yourself on his lap, where he liked you. this way, you had no way of sneaking away from his confrontation. "what's wrong, huh? what happened to m'girl?"

rafe was so soft, adoring as he traced his fingers up and down your arms, soothing you so gently.

it was the kind of calmness you'd been searching for all day.

he knew how your home life could be, especially with your older sister. you used to be close with her, she used to be your favourite person in the world. and then she got a boyfriend, and well, you don't really seem to know what to think anymore.

he felt your hands paw at his shoulders, almost pushing him away. "rafe, i-i don't―" your eyes began to gloss over, rimming red around the edges.

"hey, hey." he didn't allow you to push him, grabbing your elbows to hold you in place. "what's going on, huh? why you pushing me away?" you huffed out a breath and avoided his eyes, but nonetheless, stopped trying to fight back.

rafe felt his frown deepen.

it broke his heart a little to watch you revert into your old bad habits. but he swore sometimes, you were taking two steps forward with him and then suddenly your sister's shooting you back another five steps. "hey, c'mon, we talked about this." his fingers tapped at your chin. "y'gotta let me in."

you let out this shaky breath that he swore would have been accompanied with a whimper if you didn't have such self-restraint. "'s mia."

and rafe didn't need to hear anything else to know what was wrong.

to be blunt, rafe didn't know what to make of your sister. he knew you cared for her, he knew she would never not be your sister in any twisted universal dimension. but she wasn't exactly nice to you. to be honest, rafe wasn't so sure why you even liked her to begin with. she called you names, she teased you, she yelled at you, made you feel like a big pile of nothing.

then she'd walk into your life again as if nothing had happened.

there was always something going on with her, if it wasn't an argument with her boyfriend then it was something with work and if not that, something silly like not being able to get lunch at the country club.

and somehow, all of her problems seemed to backtrack and land on you.

your parents would often take their anger out on you too, too stressed with everything going on with mia to comprehend what they were doing to you. and you, well, you were too nice to bite back. still offering your sister money when she complained about having none after not showing up to work.

if rafe had known what you'd been spending all your allowance on, he wouldn't have let you take it in cash, he would have given you his credit card and told you very sternly to spend as much as you wanted, as long as it was on yourself.

"sweetheart."

all he had to do was say that name in that soft, gentle tone he used and you were already unravelling.

you were staring at your hands, as if looking for an answer while trying to keep your tears at bay. "she's jus' so mean."

"i know, honey." his hands were grasping at yours, trying to redirect your attention to his face.

and you did look at him, finally you looked up but you had this broken look on your face as you swallowed the lump in your throat. "i ha-have to ask you something." you were speaking all strained, trying not to cry.

rafe, suddenly nervous, soothed out the nerves in your hands and up your arms, across your shoulders to behind your neck. "you can ask me anything, baby. what's goin' on?"

"do you think..?" rafe was patient with you, listening to you choke and struggle on your words but he never once rushed you. "do you think 'm selfish?"

rafe's face contorted, as if he were actually offended that you'd even ask such a question. "what?"

you hiccuped. "'cause i t-try really hard to be nice to everyone, b-but mia said―" you cut yourself off, trying to control your breathing. you were all worked up, the day being too much, everything too overwhelming. "s-she always says that 'm selfish 'n that 'm mean. i don't... i don't wanna be a bad p-person, rafe."

for a moment, rafe was rendered speechless.

it wasn't often that rafe wasn't quite sure what to say, but this was indefinitely one of those unfortunate times.

but he could see that teary look in your eyes, staring into his own. you were searching his face, trying to gauge whether or not he believed you were good. you needed him to tell you. you needed him to believe you were good.

so he took a breath and shook his head.

"you are... by far, the most selfless person i've ever met." his fingers trailed across your cheek, down your chin, anywhere they could touch and skim your skin. "c'mon, baby, mean? you get a little hangry come seven o clock with no dinner in you but even then you wouldn't so much as raise your voice."

you huffed out a giggle, pushing his face with your sleeve-covered hands.

"'m serious." he maneuvered you so you were laying with your back against the couch and he was hovering over you. "you're m'sweet girl. the sweetest girl in the world, yeah?"

"but―"

a kiss planted against your lips shut you up. "no buts." he announced, moving a kiss to your cheek. "you are." then a kiss to the other. "the sweetest." against your forehead. "girl." a pepper to your nose. "in the entire world." and finally a kiss right back on your lips.

you stared up at him like he was worth a million diamonds and he swore he couldn't find anyone in the world that was better for him. it was you, through every universe, every dimension and every lifetime.

"now you say it." at his words, you tilted your head slightly confused. "say you're the sweetest girl in the world so i know you believe it."

another small giggle passed your lips. "rafe, n-no." feeling heat pile on your cheeks with embarrassment.

"say it." you felt his fingers pinch your sides sending a tickle up your body.

instantly, you tried to shove him away. "rafe!"

but the boy simply couldn't resist. he'd been challenged and he wasn't going to give up. "say it!" and he didn't stop pinching you, even when you were a screaming mess of giggles, begging him to stop but the laughter bubbling in your chest suggested he keep going. "all you gotta do is say it, baby."

"'m so sweet." giggling through your faux self-assurance.

however, rafe didn't stop his abuse to your sides. "'s not the full sentence!"

"fine! fine!" you felt him pause and raise an eyebrow at you, waiting. your giggles faded into a lopsided grin. "'m the sweetest girl in the world."

"yeah you are. there's m'good girl." he sat back up into a seating position, bringing your body with him so you could sit against his lap. "feelin' better, princess?"

you nodded against his chest, arms loosely falling around his body. "mm, thank you rafey." he glanced down, watching you yawn against him, perhaps today had been just a little bit too much on you.

he glanced back to the tv which was long forgotten. "what do you say, we go to bed together now 'n finish this tomorrow?"

but he was already picking up the remote to switch it off and your eyes were already fluttering closed with a whine. "no, rafey. wanted you to watch it tonight."

"oh, i know." while picking you up to bring you to your shared bedroom, switching off the lights in the process. "'m just the worst."

"no." you mumbled tiredly. "y'the sweetest boy in the world."

and rafe couldn't help but grin.

yeah, you were definitely the perfect fit for him.

[roosterforme]

You're on the Naughty List, Rooster | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley knows no limits when spoiling his family, especially for his daughter's first Christmas. When he's down to the wire getting everything ready, he lands himself on the naughty list. He'll do whatever it takes to fix things, including calling on one of Santa's helpers for backup.

Warnings: Fluff, adult language, smut, oral sex

Length: 3000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This is a The Younger Kind one-shot, but it can be read alone! Check out my masterlist for more!

"What is this?" you asked, holding up a receipt that trailed from your outstretched hand all the way to the floor. "Because I know you didn't spend eight hundred dollars on toys on your way home from work today."

"Uh," Bradley replied, brow puckered. He looked up from his spot on the living room floor next to the Christmas tree where he was putting batteries into a remote control dinosaur. "It's, uh.... well, yeah, I did stop for a few more toys on the way home, but I only spent like seven hundred and sixty bucks..."

"Daddy!" you gasped. "Noah and Noelle already have way too much stuff! And we agreed to put money aside to go to Disney World next summer!"

Bradley rolled his eyes and waved his hand casually in the air. "Don't worry about that. This is Noelle's first Christmas, and I really wanted to spoil her."

You shook your head, balled up the receipt, and threw it at his head. But you were smiling. "Where are these toys?"

"In the Bronco," he muttered. "I was going to sneak them under the tree after you went to bed and hope you didn't notice that I got a few more things."

You deadpanned. "You don't know how to wrap gifts. They would have stuck out like a sore thumb," you muttered, sliding your feet into your slippers and pulling on Bradley's discarded sweatshirt. 

Without another word, you slipped out into the crisp, cool night to retrieve everything. To your dismay, it took you several trips back to the living room before you got all of it.

"You are in so much trouble," you warned, pulling his sweatshirt off and crawling across the floor toward your husband. "You're on the naughty list."

"I'm not," he whispered. "I've been really good all year."

You pointed to the Elf on the Shelf which was perched on the windowsill next to the front door. "That's not what Skittles Junior told Santa. I saw the note he sent to the North Pole. Everyone was on the nice list except for you."

"Including Skittles Senior?" he asked, pulling you close until you were sitting halfway on his lap. The Yorkshire Terrier looked up from her napping spot under the Christmas tree, annoyed that they kept saying her name without offering a treat.

"Especially Skittles Senior," you confirmed.

Bradley wrapped his hands around your waist and whispered, "What if I bought my way onto the nice list?"

"How?" you asked, chin jutting into the air, playfully haughty.

Bradley leaned in, pressing his lips to the side of your neck. You had the softest skin, and he let himself indulge in some kisses before saying, "Maybe I already booked the trip to Disney World."

You gasped softly. "Well, this is an interesting turn of events. Did you pick a nice hotel?"

"For my family? The nicest."

"And we get to go for a week?"

"A full seven days, Princess," he rasped, brown eyes reflecting the lights on the tree as you tipped his head back to examine his face.

"Let me check with the Elf," you whispered with a wink. You turned toward the window and asked, "Hey, Skittles Junior? You think we can let the old man slide this year? He wasn't too bad."

But Bradley was already easing you onto your back, right next to the snag in the area rug, while you laughed. "I know for a fact you're on the nice list. You're so nice, in fact, I'll let you have one of your presents early," he murmured. You bit your lip as he started to tug your pajama pants over your hips. "This is something I definitely wouldn't be able to figure out how to wrap." He kissed below your belly button, tossing your pants on top of his hoodie. "But I know it's something you like."

The tip of his nose tickled the waistband of your underwear before he started to pull them down as well. Then he kissed his way along your thigh, mustache prickling you as you shivered, pussy completely bare for him. "Daddy," you moaned softly, fingers grabbing at the rug while he held tight to your thigh and dragged his index finger along your slit.

His face was handsome in the glow from the multi-colored lights, gaze fixed on where he was stroking you. "You're so fucking pretty like this," he grunted, collecting your slick and circling your clit until you whimpered. His lips found the inside of your knee before he set your legs gently on his shoulders. You watched as he licked his finger clean, eyes closed in pleasure. "You taste like a Princess."

"I am a Princess," you replied, eyes flicking to the collection of paper crowns which your son added to the Christmas tree. Then your eyes slid closed as Bradley's tongue traced you from hole to hole before his lips sealed around your clit with just the perfect pressure. 

"Oh, god," you whined as your fingers sunk into his thick hair. His broad shoulders kept you planted against the floor, pussy already fluttering with need as you tried to roll your hips for more.

"Just wait," he whispered, mustache dragging through your wetness. "Don't rush it."

"But it feels good," you whined loudly, tugging him by his hair. "More." 

That's when he lifted you slightly off the rug, his big hand landing on your butt, spanking you one time. You sucked in a deep breath, enjoying the sting as he kissed the inside of your thigh. "I said don't rush it. Want you to make a mess."

"Oh." He was going to make you squirt. That was the gift he was giving you. Even now, you weren't sure how he managed to make it happen every time he put his mind to it, but you weren't mad about it. You tried your best to keep your hips still as he worked you up while his hands made their way to your waist. 

He drew little circles against your skin where you were most self conscious after being pregnant with Noelle, but he never seemed to mind your stretch marks. He just kept at it, licking you up and down your slit with a steady pattern until you were starting to get loud. Then Bradley shoved two fingers inside and circled your clit with his thumb.

"Don't wake up the kids," he scolded playfully, guiding his body over yours while his hand worked at your pussy. The sounds were wet and indecent as he finger fucked you while you licked yourself from his lips and mustache. "God, you're so fucking sweet," he crooned, making you whine for him as he pulled away again.

As soon as his face was back between your legs, his lips took over for his thumb, and you knew you were close. His fingers felt thick and unrelenting, giving you the most delicious friction as he sucked on your clit. When his tongue swiped you, your back arched up from the rug, and your legs started to shake. When his fingers slowed, your vision blurred, creating a colorful mosaic from the Christmas lights as you clenched around him, your body trying to keep his fingers inside.

"Jesus," you gasped, riding his fingers, looking down at his face, lips still all over your pussy. "Daddy!"

You gushed on his face, and he moaned in pleasure, lapping up everything from your ass to your clit as you gasped and giggled, fingers pressed to your lips as you shakily rode out your orgasm.

"Merry Christmas, Princess," he crooned, teasing you with his fingers before removing them. He kissed your chin and your parted lips before letting you suck on his fingers while he sprawled out next to you. Your tongue cleaned him up, enjoying the taste of yourself on his rough hands before you rolled onto your side.

"You want me to wrap all of the extra toys you bought, don't you, Bradley?" you asked, voice shaky as he nodded.

"Yeah. I mean, I thought that was a given."

You laughed, but a few minutes later, you were once again dressed, wrapping presents until well after midnight. Bradley handed you the tape and scissors when you asked for them, and he made both of you mugs of hot cocoa when you needed a break. He told you his plans for the summer vacation to Florida, and you lined up the mound of toys for Noah and Noelle under the tree until you couldn't stop yawning.

"I don't know if I'm more tired from my orgasm or wrapping. Or both?" you asked, kissing him before standing. "But I'm going to bed."

"I'll be in after I put the mugs in the sink, Princess. I love you."

You stood and arched your back in the most alluring way before running your fingers through his hair and kissing his forehead. "Don't forget to move Skittles Junior to the tree for Christmas morning."

"Right. I'll take care of it," he grunted as you walked away, Skittles Senior trailing behind on her way to her puppy bed. 

After straightening up the kitchen, Bradley took the time to clean up a few wrapping paper scraps and adjust some of the ornaments. The tree looked beautiful covered in homemade art projects you and Noah crafted together. The whole house had taken on a new life since he met you, and if you wanted to go to Disney World in the summer, he was going to make it the best trip ever.

"Get over here," he told the Elf on the Shelf, picking him up and searching for a good spot on the tree to hide him. "And I better be on the nice list tomorrow, Skittles Junior. There are a lot of things I want from my wife next year, if you catch my drift, buddy."

But Bradley took a wrong step trying to avoid the huge pile of presents that he bought. His eyes went wide as he reached for the tree, somehow managing to keep it and himself upright while the presents scattered noisily across the floor. He stood there silently, trying to regroup, but then he heard footsteps in the hallway.

"Daddy, did Santa come?"

Bradley turned in time to see Noah peek into the room, his brown eyes wide as he took in the scene before him. Then he burst into tears.

"What's wrong, Bub?" Bradley asked, scrambling around the presents to get to his son.

"You touched the Elf!" he wailed, tears streaking down his cheeks. "Now Skittles Junior won't be magic anymore!"

Bradley tamped down the string of obscenities on the tip of his tongue and winced, throwing the Elf at the tree. "He's okay. See? He's in the tree now. He's just fine."

"No!" his son cried, dropping to the floor where Bradley joined him, trying to keep him quiet so he didn't wake you or Noelle. "He's not magic anymore!"

Fuck. Bradley had been setting up elaborate scenes involving the elf leaving flour footprints in the kitchen and dangling from dental floss in the bathroom for the entire month of December. He knew he wasn't allowed to get caught touching the damn thing.

"I'm pretty sure there's a way to fix his magic," he said, collecting the sobbing child against his chest.

Noah gasped for air as he said, "Someone at school told me the only way to get an elf to be magic again is if Santa sends a helper to sprinkle new magic on him. That's the only way."

Bradley tried to think of a solution to appease Noah, but he was beyond exhausted. "How about I take you back to bed, okay? Santa was clearly already here, but Mommy and Noelle are still asleep. We can open presents in a few hours-"

"No!" Noah protested, looking up at him. "I want to stay here with Skittles Junior until Santa sends a helper to give him back his magic!"

Bradley gritted his teeth. It was four in the morning. He wanted to be curled up next to your warm body in bed. He didn't know how the fuck to fix the elf as it dangled helplessly from the tree. But it was Christmas, and the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint his son.

"Right," Bradley agreed, scooping Noah up and settling onto the couch with him as a plan started to take shape. "How about you and I wait right here? I'm sure it won't take long."

------------------------------

When you woke up, the bed was cold. You could hear Noelle starting to fuss in her crib, so you went to her room before investigating where your husband could possibly be.

"Hey, Noelle," you whispered as she giggled and reached for you when you walked to her crib. Thankfully she was finally sleeping through the night now after getting a rough start. You kissed her forehead and changed her into a fresh diaper. "Merry Christmas," you told her, tickling her tummy, making her coo. "Let's find Noah and Daddy and make breakfast."

When you walked into the living room, you froze. The wrapped presents were all over the floor, Skittles Junior was dangling from the Christmas tree, and Bradley looked miserably tired with Noah pouting on his lap.

"What's going on?" you asked, and they both turned to look at you and Noelle.

"Daddy touched Skittles Junior, and now he's not magic anymore."

Noah's lips quivered as Bradley rolled his eyes behind him. "It was an accident," Bradley replied through gritted teeth. "And Santa's helper should be here shortly to remedy things."

You looked at him like he had two heads. "What are you talking about? Santa's helper?"

"It's the only way!" Noah insisted, his little fists clenched on his lap. "It's the only way to get his magic back!"

You looked from one pair of brown eyes to the other. "I'm still confused," you whispered, but then there was a knock on the front door. "Who could that possibly be at this hour?"

Noah launched off Bradley's lap. "It has to be Santa's helper!" he exclaimed, racing for the door and opening it. You nearly choked when you saw Natasha standing there, dressed as a life-sized Elf on the Shelf with heavily rouged cheeks and her hair hidden under the pointy hat. She was also wearing oversized glasses which she pushed up her nose as Bradley stood.

"Hi! My name is Pip! I'm an elf!" she squeaked.

"Did Santa send you?" Noah asked hopefully, opening the door wider for her.

"He sure did!" she told him with a smile while you took in the events before you with Noelle in your arms. This had to be the most insane thing you'd ever witnessed as your husband's best friend walked into the living room with a canister of gold glitter in her hand.

"Did he tell you my elf lost his magic?" Noah asked, pointing at the tree.

"Oh, yes," Natasha squeaked. "He said your dad was very, very naughty." She glared at Bradley who just shook his head. "He's going directly onto the naughty list for the next decade or so. Everyone knows you aren't allowed to touch the Elf on the Shelf. Only a complete moron would-"

"Okay, Pip," Bradley barked. "Can you fix the elf or not?"

She adjusted the glasses and opened the glitter. "Of course I can. Just a little sprinkle," she said, dousing the elf and half the tree in gold dust, "and he'll be good as new."

"Yay!" Noah shouted, jumping around the room. "He's magic again! He's magic again!"

You gaped at Bradley and whispered, "Do I even want to know?"

"Absolutely not," he replied, taking Noelle and giving her a kiss while Noah plopped down to open aone of his presents like all was right in the world.

When Natasha turned to quietly sneak back out the front door, you followed her to the porch, closing the door behind you.

"What in the world is happening here? I thought you and Javy were coming over later for dinner?"

She waved her hand in the air in clear annoyance. "I don't know exactly what your husband did to fuck up enough that I got texts in the middle of the night and had to drive an hour each way to the only Walmart that opened at seven in the morning on Christmas to buy this outfit, but he owes me dearly. I'll be back at a normal hour, and you can tell him he better be ready to start kissing my ass."

The elf stormed across the yard to her SUV, tossed her hat in, and drove off. You scratched your head, still confused as you went back inside. Skittles Junior was practically dripping with gold glitter as you passed the tree to find your husband and both of your children were wearing their paper crowns.

"Mommy, put it on," Noah said, handing you the purple one as you took a seat on the area rug with them.

Bradley leaned in and kissed your cheek while Noelle reached for one of the wrapped gifts. "I'll explain everything later," he whispered. "The important thing is the elf is magical again, and everyone is happy."

You shook your head and pursed your lips. "Everyone except you. Ten years on the naughty list? You better hope Pip changes her mind before she gets back to the North Pole."

Bradley groaned and sprawled out on the floor while the kids opened their presents, but there was a smile on his face the whole time.

------------------------------

It feels good to check in with them! I'm so obsessed with elf Natasha, if you couldn't tell. Thanks for reading! Happy holidays! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[crybabybat]

This got some really fucking annoying reblogs while I wasn’t watching it so:

“Nobody should be allowed to make irreversible health decisions while in distress (suicidal) or under the age of 25, PERIOD”

1. You didn’t read the post. You literally didn’t take a single thing in.

2. I started testosterone at 16 years old. I would have killed myself otherwise. If that sounds like proof that I shouldn’t have been allowed to start T to you, all that tells me is that you have never felt compassion for a trans person and you haven’t thought about dysphoria for more than 5 minutes.

3. Nobody bats a fucking eye when cis people make irreversible decisions under 25! Cis people are going on HRT and getting gender affirming surgeries fucking constantly!! Intersex kids are getting forced to take hormones literally every day to “correct” traits their bodies naturally produce!! You literally only give a shit when it’s trans people accessing joy!

4. Shut up. Shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up

“Do therapy about it first, at very least”

I saw multiple therapists! I was in therapy pretty much constantly ages 14-18. I was legally required to see a special gender therapist for a certain amount of time before she would refer me to a doctor I had to see three times at least before he’d let my parents sign the papers to allow me to start taking testosterone.

“Okay but you can become infertile and that’s a huge and major and devastating side effect that no one could possibly want. This is a trump card”

1. Literally every single doctor prescribing hormones will tell you this first and offer solutions to preserve your eggs/sperm.

2. This might shock you. But many people will be or become infertile for reasons including, but not limited to, the ways their bodies naturally produce hormones. This does not need to be fixed unless the individual wishes for it to be, and is not inherently a defect.

3. HRT actually does a terrible job at making you infertile. Like it cannot be used as birth control because even after SEVERAL years of being on hormones, the vast majority of trans people can still reproduce if they haven’t had other procedures that affect their ability to.

4. Treating people like their ability to reproduce and give birth is more important than their happiness and right to change their bodies how they wish, is fucking insane. You sound so fucking stupid.

I said I think people should be able to access hrt more freely and generally feel more inspired to try it out for a few months if it sounds like something they might benefit from. I think everybody has the right to informed consent and autonomy, including children. 3 months of HRT is not going to make anybody infertile, it probably isn’t even long enough for your voice to drop if it’s T, and it certainly isn’t long enough for breasts to grow on E. I ALSO didn’t say that doctors should stop discussing potential side effects, such as infertility, with patients, to the same degree that they’d discuss them with any other medication. I just think it’s actually fucking fine if people want to try it out! If it works that’s awesome, if it doesn’t work you can stop! Fuck!!!

I will never understand how cis people widely continue to see HRT as a huge decision that needs years of consideration and should only be used as a last resort for minors if they’re on the edge of suicide, and other things of this nature.

Like your body already has those hormones. It’s already doing that. It’s okay. They’re just hormones, you can play around and see what you like, what feels right. It’s literally fine. Changes to our bodies and voices and genitals and things are already an inherent part of being human.

It’s the weight that’s put on the decision to go on HRT that manufactures the major concerns of regret. If you decide it’s not for you and you’re upset because your body has been altered in a way that doesn’t feel good to you, that’s the same as getting a tattoo you don’t love, or breaking a bone, or being injured in some other way, or aging, or even getting a bad haircut. It is not automatically more horrific because it has to do with the perceived presentation of your gender. Hope this helps 👍🏼

[bkgexe]

if all else fails, i was myself

bakugou x reader ✾ 4.6k

info! no smut sorry gang ✾ tw! trust issues that manifest as issues w physical intimacy/contact, dubcon in its vaguest definition (NOT bkg & reader) ✾ notes! ive been in perpetual writers block for months. is this trite idk. i miss my baby but anytime i write for him im like oops this is gonna be 60k words!!! so here is. a drabble lmao. also big lmao moment this is titled after count me out by kendrick lamar ldskfjdlkjf which was on repeat while writing so uh sorry mr. lamar abt the mha fanfic

katsuki has always known that part of him is wrong.

he’s never liked being touched. every kiss he’s experienced has made him tense as an elevator cable poised to snap. any attempt to go further than that has made him a little ill, made his gut feel like a stack of loose papers being torn to shreds, slow and loud.

it doesn’t help that he’s only ever had three kisses in his life: eijirou at a new year’s party (too many teeth), eijirou again at another new year’s party nearly a decade later (too much tongue), and then his fourth date with kyoka (when he tried to convince himself he just had to push through the discomfort to become normal).

things went further than that. it was a mistake. they both knew it right after it happened—kyoka first, and then katsuki after his head stopped pounding with what if i'm doing this wrong what if she's pitying me for fucking this up what if i don't know how to touch another person correctly what if i was supposed to learn at some point and i missed it how could i fucking miss it will it always be like this because i can't do this again i can't i don't—

“kat," she said after. she looked at him with something only a few degrees removed from pity, and poorly removed at that.

he attempted a halting non-apology. he attempted a real apology. failed at both.

"it's okay, you know," she said. "to not like it."

he scoffed even though he wasn’t entirely clear on what she meant by it, because there was so much he didn’t like. “i like it just fine.”

“if that was liking it, I’m honestly worried about your capacity for enjoying life in general.” it wasn’t a joke. her bluntness was something that'd made katsuki think he could push his boundaries with her. all of her thoughts were laid out plain for him to read, an open-source journal. “i'm just saying you don't have to like it. and you don’t have to force yourself to do things you don’t want to do. don't fuck yourself over for someone else's happiness.”

kyoka still texts him often, checks in, invites him to drinks with their friends. she’s kind. she’s normal. she doesn’t have this weird, shredded thing inside her that makes her balk at the idea of someone’s hand on her skin. that makes her think she's doing something wrong, even if she's not the one that initiated the touch.

when you started your job at the front desk of katsuki’s agency, he never thought that he'd be here, wishing above everything that he could just be normal. just for one fucking day, so he could laugh at your shitty jokes and maybe brush his knuckles across the back of your hand in passing and take you on a date where he could kiss you in his car after driving you home and the thought wouldn’t make his skin crawl, wouldn't tear up his insides to pulp.

because he fucked everything up. he's standing in his empty office where you'd been spending time with him and he fucked it up and hurt you and he's not sure how to unfuck it.

the thing is, he could grin and bear it. he could deal with the odd thing inside him that hates the contact and white-knuckle it through every kiss, every caress. but he’s never been a great actor. he wouldn’t be able to hide that from you.

(kyoka told him, years later, that it’s not that the sex itself wasn’t fine—what made it nearly unbearable for her was the fact that she could tell, only after it was too late, that being physically vulnerable with her pained him far more than he was willing to reveal.)

no one wants to feel like the person they’re with is grinning and bearing it. that they’re white-knuckling it through. katsuki knows this. he knows he’s basically a fucking virgin all but in title at thirty and that he’s got the personality of a dried-out fig you find in your fridge weeks after its last edible moments. he doesn't have much to offer.

but he walked into work one day and nodded at you, curt, a grimace on his face—and you smiled at him so kindly that his stomach twisted.

with you, it wasn't the feeling of something being torn apart. it was different, lighter. leaves wrenched into the sky by a strong breeze. still a kind of tearing, but different—less destructive.

he was wearing a deep carmine sweater his mom sent him in one of her bi-monthly care packages (as if he’s not an adult, and a pro-hero on top of that), and you said, “that’s such a nice color on you. is it new?”

there was that breeze inside his chest, strong, pulling at his bones. “yeah,” he grunted. then slowly, as if remembering how: “thanks.”

it was the attention, he thought at first, that piqued his interest. he wasn't used to it. people always watched him from afar, and he had fans online that were borderline obsessive, but people didn’t approach him. they didn’t say that’s such a nice color on you. they didn’t smile the way you smile.

he’s always had a shallow streak. it’s not like he doesn’t know this. it’s become a little muted over time, a little discouraged by the visible scarring on his face and body from his time in the field, but it’s never fully been eradicated. so it was simple, he thought. you paid him attention and stroked his ego, and he preened like a self-obsessed bird of paradise.

and then you started making these little origami whale sharks.

fucking stupid. it bothered him an annoying amount. you had a bunch at your desk, all different colors and sizes, some taped to your desktop monitor, some hung up with little pieces of string under the desk's storage overhang. you drew dots on the back of each one, a distinct spotted pattern that was unique for each shark. and you made them for everyone but him. eijirou bought you a pack of high quality origami paper and you made him his own fucking school, all with little faces, winking or surprised or angry, their wide paper mouths gaping and empty, the lines of their bodies pressed careful and sure.

he hated it. it was annoying and a waste of company time and he usually didn’t ever use dumb corporate slogans like “a waste of company time” but you were really pushing his fucking limits.

it was definitely just the attention he liked, he told himself, because surely someone doing something as dumb as this would annoy him to no fucking end if he spoke to them.

and then he spoke to you and he was wrong.

he asked why you made the damn things in the first place and you told him, “i like whale sharks. but to be totally honest, i just run out of things to do."

and he saw that as a challenge. you were running out of things to do? rest assured he could find more shit for you to take care of. so he did. tasks that he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy, they were so dull and time-consuming. and you were so achingly competent that it drove him up a fucking wall. you completed everything he asked of you in half the time it would take someone else, and you always reported back with a smile, and you always did good work, and he could see himself having a conversation with you about something other than work but he didn't want to try because he was worried he'd begin to like you as a person.

you're pretty. really fucking pretty. he can see that now, and he sure as fuck saw it then. you're hardworking. you're just likeable, and that's something katsuki had never been. it (reluctantly) impressed him. worse than that, it turned his feelings for you into a sort of interest.

but he knows he's not normal when it comes to things like this.

he tried to distance himself from you because of it, but it turns out that asking someone to do work for you means you do have to speak to them sometimes. and sometimes turned into a lot of times.

sometimes turned into bringing him coffee in the morning, not because he asked you to, but because you're sweet like that. sometimes turned into being the person he bounced ideas off of when he had a board meeting coming up or something otherwise boring and meticulous. sometimes turned into you laughing at his prickly comments rather than going quiet because of them. turned into you saying suck it up, dynamight, this is what it means to be the boss when he complained about doing paperwork.

sometimes turned into staying late with him at the office, getting take out for the two of you to share while you finished filing claims and damage reports and other stuff he hated taking care of by himself. sometimes turned into him asking you to stay late just because he wanted you there. because even when he was quiet, you'd tell him about your day, about things that happened in the office, about how much you like the book you'd both been reading. he loved listening to you talk. felt comfortable enough to tell you things about himself when he'd never felt comfortable doing that before.

sometimes turned into you holding out a piece of fried tofu from your take-out container for him to eat while he was approving time-off forms that he should have looked at much earlier that week, and you being so close that he could notice how good you smelled, and the warmth of your body basically radiated towards him, like all your energy was focused on him, and your smile was small but somehow even more lovely than usual, a secret for him to tuck away and keep, and when you finished feeding him and he had a little sauce on the corner of his mouth and you reached forward to wipe it off for him and your hand lingered there for a moment and your eyes fell to his lips and what if you try to kiss me and i'm wrong and you hate me for it and what if i can't give you what you want and what if i'm not actually what you want what if i've disappointed you already what if—

it was too much.

so he fucked it up. your thumb was so soft against his skin. he reeled backwards in his chair, rolling it whole feet clear of you, and he felt the tearing again, the bad kind, like paper unevenly shredded by clumsy hands, and he had to leave. he had to leave. he needed to leave so badly that it felt like pulling his skin off would be preferable to being in that office with you.

hiding in the bathroom was fucking pitiful. he remembered his breathing exercises. he remembered to ground himself. and when he came back to his office, you were gone.

if he was normal—and he wants to be normal, god fucking damn—he could have stomached your proximity. he could have eaten out of your fucking hand. he could have touched you back like a normal person probably would have and he wouldn't be here, alone, looking at a little purple sticky note you left him that says i finished organizing the pto forms. i hope you feel better!

he doesn't know whose pride you're trying to save with that. as if you didn't leave because he made things so fucking awkward by running away from you when you touched him. when you—maybe, if he was reading the room correctly—were about to kiss him.

and you don't speak to him for days. he doesn't want to push so he doesn't—just watches you out of the corner of his eye whenever you're both in the same room, which is arguably worse. he's not sure. he's just itching to fucking talk to you because he misses it.

he misses you. in a more-than-friends way.

it takes a while for him to realize this. when he does, it hits him like a metal rod up the side of the head. it's fucked up of him to miss you the way he does when he doesn't feel like he can provide you with the things a normal person could. and though he's worked on his patience over the years—worked on understanding that he can't have everything he wants—it doesn't stop him from being selfish and finally pulling you aside to talk.

and baffling as fucking ever, the first thing you say is sorry. "i know i should've talked to you about it earlier. i just—i shouldn't have done that. and i know it. i shouldn't have assumed that—i don't know. that you..."

you look helpless. it's one of the very few times that katsuki has ever felt the compulsion to touch someone. not because he wants the touch, per se, but because he wants to be able to provide comfort. he never figured out how to do that with words. he's so focused on his inability to comfort you that he barely has any idea of what you're actually talking about. instead of doing anything at all, he just stands there like a fuckwad.

"i just want you to know that i would never—like never—have touched you, or tried to... if i didn't think there was like, a vibe?" you shake your head, exasperated with yourself. "god, even that sounds so bad. i'm sorry, i just—"

"wait, what are—?" and then it clicks, because he's been slow on the uptake figuring out his shit when he should have been focusing way more on yours. "there was..." katsuki says, and he fucking hates that he can't find better words for what you were both feeling in his office, "a vibe."

the way your face changes when you're flustered is one of katsuki's favorite things, but it's not as enjoyable when he feels just as flustered as you look. "i—oh? so... so you—?"

his ears feel like they're being attacked by two heated straightening irons and he knows they're red as hell right now. he's gonna have to say this plainly even though he'd rather get his teeth pulled out one by one with a pair of pliers. "it's not you."

your expression loses any sort of hope it once held. you press your lips together and sigh, maybe a little exasperated. he's doing his best here but he knows his best is shit. "i can handle a non-cliché rejection," you tell him. "honestly, i'd prefer a non-cliché rejection—"

"i'm not trying to reject you," he says, and it's selfish of him. because he's really not. he isn't comfortable with the things you'd want from him, but he still wants you in some capacity. "i just don't—do shit like that."

"kissing?"

somehow knowing for sure that you did want to kiss him in his office makes him want you more. he likes that you're bold. he likes that you're not ashamed of that. he wants to be different than he is. "any... of it," he struggles to admit.

"at all?"

he nods.

"just—like touching, and stuff?"

it sounds so juvenile that he can't help but laugh through his nose, roll his eyes. "yeah. touching and stuff."

"oh."

you're disappointed. of course you are. it's not like he expected anything different, but—sometimes he fucking hates his life. hates that he can't be the thing people need him to be. hates that trying is so difficult, that it flings his stomach into space, like a throwing stone skipping across a still lake.

"so you don't go on dates, or anything."

"haven't tried."

"do you not want to?" you ask, and he can tell it's more of a genuine question than anything. you're curious about him, like you always are. it's more than he deserves, for all he can offer.

"doesn't make sense to."

"that's not what i asked."

it's not. and so katsuki listens as you ask your question again, and he really takes a moment to think.

considering the answer to your question leads him to his first date with you. and his second, and his third—his fourth, and he's keenly aware that his last fourth date ended with what he expects all dates are supposed to end with.

he takes you to the aquarium. because of all the fucking origami whale sharks. you still haven't given him one and it sticks in his craw like a bone. in front of the backlit tank that holds sharks of all types, shapes and sizes and teeth he's never pictured possible of a living creature before, he asks, "why sharks?"

you look at him, brow raised. "i don't know. they probably needed the biggest tank in the aquarium. and this looks like the biggest tank."

"no, dumbass—your sharks. the ones all over the fuckin' office."

"what, you don't like them?" you ask, but you're smiling, sly.

he shrugs. he thinks they're dumb as hell. he wants one to hang up at work, like the ones you've got hung up at your desk. "they're whatever. they clutter the fuck out of ei's office. and he's already got issues organizing." you've just made eijirou so many at his point, and it's getting ridiculous. "but what—are they easy to make, or something?"

you laugh a little. "no. not at all, actually." a whale shark swims by, its spotted hide shimmering in the tank's eerie blue lighting, and you watch it intently. "but it'd be boring if it was too easy."

this date ends with him walking you home from the aquarium a few blocks from your apartment and you smiling at him and telling him that you had a really great time, and he feels like a fucking freak because you don't even expect more. you don't wait for a kiss. don't look disappointed that he doesn't try to give you one. the way you look at him holds so much affection that he doesn't deserve and he has no idea how to reciprocate it to you, and somehow he lands on, "make me one."

"one what?" you ask, but he thinks you already know what he's asking. you like to play coy. he likes it when you play coy. when you're enjoying yourself.

"one of your little fuckin' paper things," he mutters, because admitting that he wants one of those dumbass sharks feels somehow demeaning. he doesn't want you to know how much he's wanted one. "ei's got a million of 'em."

your hand was on your door handle, but it falls to your side. he's keenly aware of its proximity to him. he doesn't feel that terrible ripping in his gut and its absence is almost frightening to him. your fingers tighten into a fist. it's cold out. "ah, and you're jealous?"

"no," he says, knee-jerk. "i just don't get why everyone gets one but me."

you smile when he says this and he could live in this image of you, delicate and small and made for him. he goes home and thinks about it until he falls asleep. thinks about it even beyond then, feels that strong breeze inside him tearing every leaf from its grounded perch.

here's the thing—nothing against jirou, but unlike his other fourth date, this one was enjoyable. more than. he loved watching you be amazed by the size of the whale sharks, and he loved watching you put a bunch of coins into the penny press and cranking the machine until one was squeezed out into the pattern you wanted, and he loved watching you lay your hand against the glass where the rubbery wings of a flood of stingrays battled for your attention, and—

he loved watching you. that's weird, right? he sounds like a fucking lunatic thinking that.

but he does. he hadn't realized until now how difficult it had been not only to touch people, but to look at them. maintaining eye contact, watching someone do a simple task out of interest instead of staring them down in an attempt to intimidate them. he's so much more fucked up than he thought but what makes it bearable is that he can do it with you. he can watch the way you enjoy things and feel like he's not intruding on something he shouldn't. without even trying, you make him feel welcome—wanted.

that's it. you make him feel wanted.

the realization affects him in a way he doesn't understand. at work the next day, when you smile at him over the top of the front desk, he feels something incredibly strong—something like instinct—that tells him to touch you. small. a thumb brushed across your cheek. his fingers grazing yours. he wants it in a way that can't be right because he's never wanted to touch someone like this.

he doesn't do it, but he thinks about it all day. your little smiles when you notice him watching you on your dates, the way your fingers graze your lips when you cover your laugh, the softness in the way you regard him. you're quiet, reserved, but when you laugh you laugh hard. he wants your soft, your quiet and your loud, he wants the feeling of your fingers on his lips, he wants your smallest smiles, all things he wishes he could fold up and keep and later display somewhere he can always see them. a school of paper fish, gaping mouths and drawn-on spots and such carefully pressed lines.

so on the eleventh date—(he knows it's ridiculous to count, but he's never spent this much time with one person before, not like this)—he reaches for your hand when you're walking alongside the bay, the air turning cold in the wake of the sunset that the two of you had just witnessed. that's romantic, you'd teased when he asked you to watch it with him. he'd rolled his eyes, shrugged you off.

but maybe he wanted it to be romantic. maybe he wanted to make this as normal as possible for you because nothing has been normal between the two of you so far.

you pull back when he reaches for you, as if on instinct. look up at him, confused, when he reaches out again. "katsuki..." you say, and it sounds as if he's done something wrong.

he tries not to let his brain spiral but thoughts drip inwards. water meeting a dented hull. what has he done this time? what else has he fucked up by being fundamentally wrong?

"you know..." you start, and you lose your words.

he thinks of kyoka, years ago. it's okay, you know. to not like it. he wonders if you'll still text him like she does.

your lips pull into a frown before you speak and katsuki can't breathe. "i was never gonna ask on my own because i know you don't like talking about things like this if you don't bring it up. but—um. katsuki—do you think i expect something from you?"

"huh?" he asks, dumb. breathing is still something he fails to do.

"i know that this is—different. i know you have some things going on that make the physical part hard for you." you look up at him so earnestly, and he loves looking at you. he loves looking at you and doesn't want to have to stop and he's worried that this is it. the moment he'll have to stop. you try to smile and it's small and he wants it all for himself. careful. delicate. secret, for him. "i'm not gonna lie to you. i don't know what a relationship without that kind of stuff looks like. but that doesn't mean i'm not willing to find out. it's—i don't need you to try to do something you think i want you to do."

"i'm not."

"it makes me feel a little sick, kat. honestly. it makes me feel like, i don't know—like i'm taking advantage of you, or something—"

"you're not."

"you don't have to do things like that to keep me around." you look flustered, eyes darting from his face to the skyline. "if you want me, i'm—you know."

it's okay, you know. "i don't know."

"i'm yours," you say, and cringe immediately at your words. "or like—i could be, you know, kind of whatever you wanted, if you—if that's what you want. would want."

katsuki can only remember a few times when his head was this quiet in the presence of someone else. when he trusted someone enough to let his mind go blank, to let himself act on instinct. "can i kiss you?"

you sigh. "this is what i was saying. i don't want you to—"

"no," he says, quiet, and he's closer to you than he's ever been. he likes the way you smell. he's not gonna apologize if that's weird. "i just want—god, i feel pathetic asking again. can i just—?"

just, just, just. just a touch, just a kiss, just a moment of your fucking time—it's all he wants. and he's never wanted like this. he's never trusted like this. his head has never quieted entirely because he's so sure that he's not going to disappoint you, or be something you don't actually want, or be wrong.

you've shown him that he can't be wrong with you, regardless of whether or not something within him is broken.

your lips are warm, a little chapped from the dry air, and he tries to remember what kissing chastely is but it's like something breaks in him further the second the two of you touch. his hands are cradling your face, his tongue is gliding against your tongue, his teeth are clacking against your teeth, and he knows the kiss is bad and wrong and messy but he suddenly needs it. he needs to feel you.

you make a noise against him and worry slices into his stomach before he realizes it's a quiet, breathy moan, and maybe you've been okay without the touch but that doesn't mean you don't enjoy it when you receive it. he can tell he hasn't made his boundaries clear enough—your hands circle his wrists, too cautious to go further, too hesitant to grip him like he thinks you want to. like he wants you to want to.

his teeth hit yours again and you laugh, and he pulls back, stomach tight. there's a hope in him that's ready to be torn.

you see it in his face—the fear. "i love kissing you," you blurt out, as if it's the only reassurance you can think of in the moment. "i mean—you're just." you laugh again, and he realizes it's nerves. you're just as nervous as he is. "can i—can we go somewhere warm? and maybe do this more? or—if this was enough—"

he's pulling you towards his apartment before you can get another word out.

kissing you is easy because you make him feel like it's relatively new for you as well. maybe that's how it feels for everyone every time, but he wouldn't know. he just feels comfortable with you. like you're not so much better than him, like you're not waiting to laugh at him when he fucks up, like you're touching him because you really want to.

so he takes you to his apartment and puts you on his couch and kisses you until your back is against the armrest and he's looming over you and you feel comfortable enough that your hands stray from his wrists to his shoulders to his hair and he didn't even know touching someone could feel like this.

put aside the fact that he's nearly finished in his fucking jeans three times just from your fingers running across his back, from the way you cup his cheek when he pulls back for air because he keeps forgetting to breathe—just having you close is intoxicating. he wants to bury his face in the curve of your shoulder, he wants to bite marks into your skin that'll stay vibrant for weeks, he wants to etch himself into you so deeply that he doesn't have to leave. these wants aren't even sexual—it's something about having you be his. i'm yours, you'd told him, and he hadn't even known that it would be exactly what he needed to hear.

he's in love with you, which isn't shocking to him, but he knows he shouldn't be in love with you yet because people that aren't fucked up in the head don't feel shit like this so quickly. he's not gonna tell you this for a very long time, but he knows—so completely and confidently—that he will reach a point when he can tell you.

"you sure you want this?" he asks, breathy, between kisses.

you stop kissing him, brows raised in surprise. "katsuki, we don't... this is a lot for one night. we can take it slow, still."

"that's—i'm not talking about that." he gives in, then—lets himself bury his face in the crook of your neck, lets himself breathe in deep, lets himself find your hands and intertwine your fingers, and you can probably feel that he's hard as fucking metal for you but that's not what's important right now. it sure as hell makes it awkward to try to have a serious conversation, though. "you sure you wanna deal with all... you know. my stuff."

"are you sure you wanna deal with all of my stuff?" you counter, and he pulls back to look at you. kissed rotten and smiling. "of course i want to deal with it. i like you."

and he likes you too. god, he likes you so fucking much.

the next morning, long after you've left for home, he finds a little orange whale shark hidden behind the alarm clock on his bedside table, stars in the place of eyes, and the trace of you is enough to make him feel warm. to hope that over time his apartment becomes full of the little paper creatures until his home is its own aquarium, until everywhere he looks is a memory of all you've brought him—pieces of you, perfectly arranged and delicately folded by your careful hands, much too gentle to tear.

[hitomisuzuya]

Suzu suzu suzu suzuuuuuu imagine double penetration with kabuscara tho😳 Can you imagine kabu being a moaning mess while scara guide him how to properly do a double penetration while reader just obediently take them both? And scara is shockingly soft with reader and kabu!! OH MY GOD MY THOUGHTS WENT WILD😳 If you may, can you write it? Pretty please?

scaramouche x fem!reader. kunikuzushi (kabukimono) x fem!reader. smut. threesome. double vaginal penetration. double creampie. soft scara.

i hope this turned out okay😳 it's been awhile since i have written double penetration.

kunikuzushi is a moaning mess behind you, whimpering as the feeling of your pussy stretching to accommodate his cock next to scaramouche's. "she--she's so tight," he stumbled over his words, his hands scrambling to find purchase on your shoulders to anchor himself.

"take it easy, kuni," scaramouche glanced at his brother in encouragement, "look at how obedient she is being," his fingers danced over your throbbing clit, increasing the need to bounce on his cock. "taking us both so well."

both brothers had been preparing you for quite sometime to take both of their cocks inside of you. scaramouche sat you on his cock first, pinching and rubbing your clit while you rode him. he'd instructed kunikuzushi to suck on your nipples, telling him that the wetter and more aroused you are, the easier it would be.

scaramouche moaned as your pussy clenched around his cock, slowly thrusting up into you. "she's clenching just from hearing me mention having both our cocks stuffing her full," his fingers pinching your clit tore a cry of pleasure from your throat.

kunikuzushi's fingers dug possessively into your shoulders, his cock pulsing as he pushed deeper inside of you. "easy now," scaramouche said, increasing his rubs on your clit, "too fast at first and you'll hurt her," you saw stars feeling kunikuzushi bottom out next to scaramouche's cock.

"i..i'm fine," you reassured, "feels good," was about all you could manage. your pussy had never felt so full, both cocks snuggly rubbing against every sensitive inch of your walls.

"thrust after i do," scaramouche instructed, tending to your clit for a few moments more before taking your hand and putting it on your clit. he helped kunikuzushi set a good, steady rhythm. his soft temperament was utterly surprising to you. "that's a good girl, sucking us both in like this."

you moan louder hearing scaramouche's praise, both cocks squelching in and out of you, kissing into your sweet spot a few moments after the other. because of the position you are in, there was little room for you to do anything but take it while you shamelessly moaned. your fingers skated over your throbbing clit, pleasure burning through you as you submissively relaxed for them.

the pleasure was fast overwhelming you. your fingernails clawed at scaramouche's chest the tighter your orgasm built up. your whole body trembled in bliss, drool dripping from the corner of your mouth onto scaramouche's chest.

"fuck, i think she is going to cum," kunikuzushi could feel it, your pussy was so tight. he couldn't stop the whimpers spilling unbidden from his throat as he increased his pace.

scaramouche matched kunikuzushi's pace, his own cock throbbing almost uncontrollably against kunikuzushi's. he wasn't surprised you are already on the verge of cumming, thinking your poor little body would be overwhelmed before too long. "cum, pretty. cum on both our cocks," he hissed in momentary dominance, moving your hand away from your clit to help you along.

that was all it took to make you come undone, their cocks kissing into your sweet spot tore your orgasm out of you, squirting while you shook from the intensity of your orgasm. you are barely able to keep yourself from collapsing onto scaramouche's chest while their cock continued to fuck into you.

kunikuzushi's cock roped cum inside of you first, sloppily thrusting inside you as he rode out his high. you mewl in bliss, whimpering in slight overstimulation as his cum oozed out around his cock. scaramouche's cum soon followed, adding to the intense experience of taking them both at once.

[v1rtualsalvat10n]

𓆩♡𓆪 how to tell you goodbye

— weeks after his mysterious disappearance, lu shows up at your door with a message for you.

notes :: TW FOR DUBCON. uh yeah I find the idea of him apologizing for doing what he has to do very hot. f!reader sorry guys this is self indulgent

You don't remember how long it's been.

But you know it'd been long enough for you to stop wondering if he was actually coming back or not, and try to cope with that fact. He was gone - there was very little doubt in your mind about that. He'd stopped responding to calls and messages, his socials went cold, his friends, at least the ones you knew, hadn't heard anything either.

He disappeared. And the last thing you ever heard from him was that he was planning on doing something... real. But he never told you what. He could be dead for all you know, and there was nothing you could do about it.

It took a pretty big toll on you. He was one of the few friends you had, and just like that he was gone. Just when things were looking up for you, your support system just had to vanish into thin air. You missed him, fuck, you missed him more than anything. You missed your little coffee shop dates, the weekend parties, playing games in your apartment when it was lonely, sitting in the park together just talking for hours.

You miss those little looks he gave you when he thought you weren't looking, the way that some of your mannerisms made him smile, the nights where your conversations would get real and you'd cry on his shoulder when it was too much for you. You miss how he'd let you.

You missed the moment when he made you look at him, and wiped your tears with his thumb, letting the tension between you two linger for longer than it should. You missed his warm, shaky breath against your cheek. But you missed the most that moment when you felt his lips on yours, just for that few seconds.

You didn't miss the way he seemed to have regretted it after.

But you remembered that the clearest of all... watching the guilt in his eyes set in as he moved away from you, standing from your couch and rushing for his bags, saying that "it was getting late" or some lie like that. You remembered how he didn't even look back at you as he walked out of your door.

And that was the last day you saw him. He texted you the next morning.

"Hey, I probably won't be able to see you for a while. Working on stuff. Gonna do something real with my life."

What the fuck did that even mean? It made you angry, irrationally so. It probably only made you angry because you thought it was your fault. But god dammit, that felt valid! You felt like you had a fair reason to be pissed. It was no secret you liked him - it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out either! He'd do something like that so carelessly, and then just throw you out?

You hated it. Maybe you'd feel better with an explanation, but the truth of the matter is that he kissed you and then mysteriously disappeared, not to be seen again. And how were you not supposed to make assumptions in that situation?

And so you'd spend your days by yourself. With no more Luigi to rely on to keep you from spiraling, you'd been curled up in your room by yourself, scrolling through his social media posts, rereading your message logs to see if there's something you'd missed.

You had a jacket of his he left at your place, and every night you'd wrap a pillow in it and breathe in the mix of cologne and his natural scent until it lulled you to sleep.

It wasn't enough. You wish he'd come back, but even if he did, what was there to say? Even if he apologized, you didn't know that you'd forgive him.

That is, until he actually did come back.

No, surely that was just wishful thinking - that knock was probably a salesman or someone stupid like that coming to bother you. You dragged yourself up from your bed and slowly approached the door, groaning to yourself before putting on a fake smile to answer it.

And sure enough, there he was. Cold and scruffy looking, his clothes ruffled and his hair matted, bags under his eyes. He pushed you inside, and slammed the door behind himself.

He kissed you again. But this time he didn't hesitate, and he wasn't gentle - he threw himself onto you, your lips messily colliding with his as he leaned into it, diving his tongue into your mouth. His hands slid down to your hips, grabbing the waistband of your sweatpants so tight it was like he might fall off the Earth if he let go.

The kiss was sloppy and desperate, and he hungrily pushed it as far as you'd let it go, which was admittedly pretty far. But then the shock faded, and you pressed your hands to his chest, shoving him back. He was weak enough that he fell back into the door, leaning against it to prevent from fully toppling over.

"What the fuck?!"

You'd never yelled at him before. Never even thought about getting upset with him. His face turned fearful, as he steadied himself and tried to walk forwards again. You took a step back for the one he took forwards.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Who do you think you are, fucking with me like this?!"

His expression shifted. He just stared at you, blankly, either too tired or too numb to show any emotion anymore. And fuck, that only made you angrier. "You think this is funny? I was worried you could be dead, and now you just- show up, months later, looking like this? Why didn't you say something? You just- just-"

"I'll explain everything. Just... I really... missed you."

"Yeah? You didn't miss me enough to at least give me a heads up that you were alive!" You hid your face in your hands, sighing deeply trying to contain yourself. What reasonable explanation could there possibly be? You couldn't reason with him surely.

You hear him step forwards, and he places his hands on your hips again. You reach down to pull him off of you, but the moment you move your hands away from your face, he's pressing more kisses to your lips. He holds you tighter, his arms wrapping around you. "Get off me," you growl, but he doesn't listen.

He kisses your neck, his warm breath shaking profusely. "Luigi," you say, and he can't even look up at you. You yank one of his hands off, only for him to put it back on you with more force than the last time. "I said get off!"

"Let me make it up to you," he begs you, his gaze meeting yours as he walked you forwards, pushing you onto the couch. You try to stand, but he's quicker, and he straddles you, hovering over you and pushing you down by your shoulders. He stops looking you in the eyes, too embarrassed at what he was doing.

"Luigi, stop! I'm trying to talk to you, god dammit!" He doesn't listen. He can't. He's already straining his jeans, grinding his hips into yours. It's warm. He's warm, and fuck, you can't lie to yourself. You missed this feeling. You missed the feeling of something real being there with you. You missed him.

Your body betrays you, and you softly rock your hips forwards into his, swearing under your breath. He smiles softly, cupping one of your hips in his hand. "It's okay. I know you missed this." He looked at you, a weird sincerity in his eyes, considering what he was actually doing.

"I'm not messing around. This- this isn't funny. Let go of me." At some point you had stopped struggling without noticing, and you squirmed again, causing him to push more of his weight down onto you. He spoke softly to you. "Shh, it's okay... It's okay, I promise I won't take long. Promise, promise."

He muttered some words in Italian, something that sounded along the lines of a prayer as he rutted into you, yanking your hips up to get more friction. "Stop it," you say again, covering your face with one of your hands.

The truth is that you'd dreamed of this moment for so long. So very long. You'd dreamed of what it would feel like when he finally touched you, his skin on yours, giving you all he had to give. But fuck, not like this, not like this-

He finished with whatever he was reciting, and slipped his fingers under your waistband, along with the one of your panties and tugged them down. You pressed your thighs together, but he was stronger than you and pushed them apart, leaving you exposed for him.

"You're beautiful..." He stared down at you, leaving a crimson shade on your cheeks. "I'm sorry, I just... I felt like I had to tell you goodbye." Your eyes widened as he said that, and you shook your head. "What are you talking about? Luigi, I'm not going anywhere. You're not going anywhere either. You don't have to do this, please-"

By the time you finished, he was already unbuckling his belt, the sound of the buckle clinking against itself making you shiver. He unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down, rubbing himself against your folds. He was big. Bigger than you expected. Big enough that it looked like this might leave you sore.

You tried to scoot back, but he reached for you and pulled you closer than you were before, gasping at the feeling of your wetness against his cock. He'd longed for this forever, maybe even since the moment he'd first laid eyes on you. It felt like heaven to him, despite how dirty he felt - despite the fact that he knew it was wrong.

Something about you looking down on him for this only made him harder.

He lined himself up with your entrance and parted you with just his tip, his nails sinking into your hips as he did. "Fuck," he whimpered, "I'm so sorry, amore."

And with that, he slid into you slowly. You sighed in relief, only to cry out when he was so overwhelmed by pleasure that he slammed himself into you as deep as he could manage, rolling his hips into you.

Fuck. You could feel him pressing against your cervix. His breath shook as he panted heavily, shutting his eyes tightly as he pulled out nearly all the way, only to slam back into you. He swore, leaving bruises on your sides from how hard he was holding you. It hurt but you didn't care.

He kept up this brutal force, moving all the way out just so he could thrust deep into you again. It took him a while to speed up just because he was so overstimulated by it. But when he did, he fucked you like a wild animal, slamming his hips into yours, the obscene sound of his skin hitting yours filling your apartment.

You looked up at him, who still had his eyes closed out of shame. You couldn't help but imagine what he saw behind his eyelids, what he was imagining as he fucked you in earnest. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, but he fought against them. "I'm sorry," he muttered, over and over again. He couldn't stop apologizing.

"It's- it's okay, it's okay... fuck-! I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you... oh god..."

That was too much for him. Your acceptance, that unconditional love of yours, the fact that he could do this, and you would still understand, pushed him over, and tears streamed down his cheeks.

His hands frantically slid up your sides as he leaned down onto you, both your chests pressed together, getting as much of his skin on yours as possible. He ran his fingers up and down you, committing every hill and valley to memory. "I'm sorry, I promise I'll make it up to you. I promise you. I promise."

He kept mindlessly apologizing as he used you, controlled by his own need. There was no stopping him now, and you didn't want to. He was beautiful even like this, even at his lowest point. You knew that you loved him in this moment.

"I'm gonna cum, please, please... I'm sorry, I need it, please, baby-" He kept babbling through his tears, which fell onto your cheeks. You closed your eyes softly, leaning into his touch, pressing your lips to his.

He devoured you in an instant, the kiss deeper than before, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he neared his release. "Perdonami, ti prego," he begged, speaking inbetween breaths.

"Lu," you cooed. "Go ahead. It's alright."

As soon as you commanded him, his eyes shot open and he threw his head back as he rammed into your cervix, spilling himself deep inside of you, his body shaking as he did. You tightened around him, the feeling of him finally letting himself go enough to make you cum too, as you called out his name.

He stayed tensed up over you for a moment, his arms struggling to hold his weight as his eyes shut, and he collapsed on top of you, his face in your chest. He started to sob, gripping you tight, one of his hands going down to entangle with yours. "I'm so sorry, amore," he repeated, over and over, "I'm sorry"s falling from his lips.

You pressed him closer, free hand stroking his hair softly as he crumbled in your arms. "It's okay. I forgive you."

"Please don't hold it against me."

"We'll figure it out, okay, Lu? We'll figure it out, together. Me and you. Because I love you."

"I love you too.... No matter what happens, remember that I love you."

[mygreatadventurehasbegun]

Piggybacking off of that...when you've worn the same bra forever and you finally go to replace it and you try one on in your size, do not freak out if it feels tight! Remember that you have been wearing an il-fitting bra and something that fits properly may feel tight at first. Check to see how the rest of it fits (cups/straps, etc.) before jumping to another size. Aim for the middle row of hooks while trying on a bra (if you have it at the tightest row, there will be no way to keep the fit once it stretches), and you should be able to fit two fingers under the band at the back.

And about those sizes...let me give you a tip that I learned while working in an intimates store.

Bras have what are called "sister sizes", which can be extremely helpful when finding a bra.

Let's say you a 34D. You've been measured (somewhere other than VS) and that is the size they have given you. You go to try on a bra that size and it doesn't quite fit right. The cups fit right, but the band feels really tight. You would think you'd need to try on a 36D....and you'd be wrong. You would actually need to get a 36C. Basically, all cup sizes are not created equal...a D in a 34 band is going to be smaller than a D with a 36 band.

On the other hand, if you try on a 34D and the band is too big, but the cups fit correctly, you should try on a 32DD.

It's kind of confusing, but it can save you a lot of stress when you're in a store, trying on multiple brands and styles.

And if you're at a store that has people trained in bra fittings (other than Victoria's Secret), they are a great resource! Yes, it's awkward to have a stranger see you in a bra...but it really helps. Even after I stopped working at my store...I still asked the sales gal for her opinion on a cut I'd never tried on before. And it saved me a good ten minutes wondering about it alone in the fitting room.

Things about boobs that everyone should know

Because I just keep finding out people don't know these things!

Most boobs "sag."

Actually, on that note: very very few people have the stereotypically perfect breasts that are round and perky and don't touch your ribcage/belly. Here is an entire gallery of non-sexualized, perfectly normal breasts. Here is another one, but in one image. There's an incredible range of size and shape!

Also related: very few people fit those molded foam-cup bras. Because very few people have a boob that shape. "Then why are those kinds of bras everywhere??" Because they're cheap to make and they hide your nipples.

Your "armpit fat" is probably not armpit fat. It is probably your tail of spence, and you have lymph nodes there. Some people have a bigger or smaller tail of spence, and it has very little to do with how fat you are or how big your boobs are. (Some bras can press on it or pinch it uncomfortably, like balconettes.)

When you lie on your back, your boobs will go into your armpits. That is true of EVERYONE WITH BOOBS, with the exception of some implants. Boobs are squishy! This also means that like, lying on your side will cause them to flop over. If that's uncomfortable when you're trying to sleep, there is such a thing as "sleep bras."

Lots of people's boobs get bigger and/or painful before their period starts. Some people gain an entire cup size every month.

Whether or not you wear bras has no effect on "sagging." The one "study" on this that was written about everywhere extremely badly done. The one exception: If you do the kind of exercise that has you jumping around/jogging a lot, and you don't wear a supportive-enough bra, it's possible you can injure the cooper's ligaments. But also: that would hurt, a lot.

Bras also have no effect on whether you get breast cancer.

Everyone has one boob that's bigger than the other. It's just a matter of degree.

The size of your boobs has nothing to do with whether or not you've had sex???? I'm stunned that there are people that believe this, but I've heard multiple people say they had relatives who absolutely believed this--refused to buy teenagers the correct size bra because "only sluts wear D-cups," or insisted a thirteen-year-old was "fast" because of breast growth during puberty...good lord.

It's possible for AMAB people to breast-feed--they have the same mammary glands AFAB people do! Some hormonal issues can cause people (both AFAB and AMAB) who haven't given birth to lactate, but also there's a few cases where transgender women have been given the same hormones that AFAB people's bodies make during pregnancy/lactation, and voila! Breast milk!

(I very intentionally didn't go into bra sizing with this post, but yes, if you hate your bras, you are probably wearing the wrong size and/or style for you. That's a much more finicky topic though, so I'm just going to point out that the letter doesn't mean anything about boob size by itself, D isn't big, and Victoria's Secret's "fittings" are garbage. For more info, go to the subreddit for r/abrathatfits, or try their size calculator.)

[taojjang]

𐙚 riize reactions: i want to marry you .ᐟ

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ advent calendar, day twenty-two! pairing: fiance!riize x reader, genre: fluff! warnings: pure love <3

synopsis: there's no better time to confess your never-ending love for someone than the holidays!

note: we're on the final four! ty guys sm for enjoying the advent calendar series i appreciate it so so so much :( i hope you guys are looking forward to the holidays coming up!! this one is kinda longgg i was feeling a bit too romantic so i hope you have the time and patience for this

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shotaro . . .

since the beginning of november, shotaro had planned a romantic getaway for the holidays. he booked the resort the second you agreed to his idea. from then until the day he drove you to the resort, he wouldn't stop talking about how excited he was. on christmas night, you finally realized why he was so excited.

taro knew you wanted to try ice skating. every time you'd open instagram, you'd watch reels about cute winter date ideas, and somehow ice skating was always a suggestion. you've been bugging taro to take you ice skating. the two of you got ready together in your fancy hotel room, taro letting you pick out your matching outfits. after you got all dolled up for the date, you were on your way to the skii resort.

taro held your hand as you entered the skii lift, reassuring you everything would be fun. but you were terrified. the lift seemed to be going way faster than you anticipated, causing your anxiety to palpitate in your chest. but once you entered the skii lift, your every thought was clouded by the breathtaking view ahead of you. but within seconds of reaching the mountain peak, you felt a tap on your shoulder. as you turned to face your boyfriend, your gaze was stolen by a glistening ring in taro's hand. your heart grew lighter as you looked down into taro's doting eyes.

"you've made every day of my life feel like a dream. would you let me live in your fairytale for the rest of our lives?"

the two of you held hands and explored the snowy mountain together, not being able to stop giggling as the idea of being with each other for the rest of your lives sank in.

eunseok . . .

eunseok is truly the most nurturing boyfriend you could ask for. no matter how busy or tired he is, he'd drop anything and come running to you the second you call his name. but with such a caring boyfriend comes so much nagging. eunseok is always complaining about how you spend too much money ordering food when he could just cook for you, or how you need to prioritize paying bills before buying new clothes. so of course it shocked you when he suddenly told you he was taking you to a tropical resort for christmas.

but of course, you couldn't complain. you were already envisioning so many cute things to do with eunseok on the vacation. you were a bit too excited, packing your things the same night although you had two more weeks until your flight. but it was all worth it. the resort he booked was absolutely stunning. you had your own little house on the beach and you bedroom had a window view of the deep turquoise waves.

the next few days, eunseok would take you on fancy tours of the island and luxurious dinner dates every night. you felt a bit emotional when things were coming to an end. the amount of beautiful memories you made with eunseok this week was all starting to overwhelm you. you felt like your love for him was at its capacity. seeing how sentimental you were, eunseok decided to lift your spirits by taking you on the final activity he had booked: a romantic ride on a yacht. it was absolutely lovely sitting beside eunseok with a glass of champagne in your hand. the wind breezed through your hair, refreshing every lingering thought in your mind. as you soaked in the tropical sun, eunseok called from behind you. "i think you'll like this view more." your heart stilled in your chest as you turned to eunseok, who was on one knee with the most stunning diamond ring you've ever seen

"you're the only person i'd wish to share the rest of my memories with. darling, will you marry me?"

sungchan . . .

every date with sungchan is typically organized by you. sungchan is quite clumsy and unorganized, so whenever he plans something it usually goes wrong. though you don't mind it and enjoy the thrill of how unpredictable his dates are, he's too insecure to plan dates. after all, sungchan wants the best for you.

but he knew you couldn't plan his proposal. he wanted it to be a complete surprise, which he succeeded in. you were shocked by how beautiful the house looked when you got home from spending time with your family for christmas. there was a romantic trail of rose petals leading you from the entrance to the dinner table, which was prettily decorated with fancy candles and flowers. though sungchan was such a klutz, you were proud of him for how luxurious he made the house.

everything was going as planned: he cooked up his best dish and it turned out delicious having you get up for seconds. you even complimented how well he planned out this date. to finish off the night, sungchan poured you a glass of pink champagne and served two slices of your favorite cake. the two of you were eating cake by the fireplace and sharing affectionate words with one another until suddenly, sungchan winced in pain and he covered his mouth with his hand. concerned and panicked, you put down your plate and leaned closer asking him what was wrong. you were surprised to see sungchan pull out a small object from his mouth. it was a diamond ring. you could see the embarrassment rise to his face as he looked down at the ring. "well, that wasn't supposed to be there..." as you realized what had just happened, you bursted out into laughter and took sungchan into your arms. "oh my gosh, sungchan, you're the cutest!" sungchan whined and threw his head into his hands crying, "it was going so well!" you smiled and left a doting kiss on sungchan's lips. "it's alright baby, now's your chance." sungchan sat up and cleared his throat, taking your hands into his and looking into your eyes.

"i know that was so stupid of me, but i promise to take you on countless more dates even better than this one. would you be my wife?"

wonbin . . .

wonbin loves home dates. whenever wonbin is in the mood to take you on a date, the destination is almost always his living room. something about the intimacy of being alone in such a comfortable space makes him so much sweeter than usual. but the christmas spirit makes wonbin even sweeter.

the two of you have a holiday tradition of going on a date to the annual christmas light festival at the nearby park. after walking around and taking cute pictures of every display, you would both find a seat in front of the frozen lake and share one early christmas gift.

but this year, wonbin forgot all about your gift. you stood in front of him with a blue gift bag in your hands, staring at him in disbelief as he stood empty-handed. you were furious. you'd been keeping up this tradition for five years, how could he forget? wonbin had even been bragging endlessly about how amazing your gift is, yet he conveniently forgot to bring it with him. you sat down on the bench and crossed your arms, not daring to look at him. all you could do was sulk as he cooed apologies. but your tough demeanor was soon cracked when wonbin sang, "listen baby, i can make it up to you, hm? look at me." finally giving in and turning to face him, your heart dropped to your stomach. wonbin got on one knee ahead of you, pulling out a small black velvet case from his pocket.

"you're the best gift i could ever receive. i'd never trade you for anything else in the world. will you marry me?"

seunghan . . .

seunghan spoils you rotten all throughout the year. you're having a hard day? dinner date! you just got a promotion? shopping spree! you gave him a few extra kisses that morning? flowers at your doorstep! after all, you're his entire world. what better way to show you that than giving you everything you could possibly ask for?

christmas is your favorite time of the year. you love going on all of the winter dates seunghan plans and enjoying the christmas spirit with him. but it gets a bit stressful sometimes. every day, there's at least two more gifts under the christmas tree despite not asking for a single thing this year. since seunghan spends so much money on you, you told him not to fret about christmas gifts this year and to focus on his family and friends. but its obvious those words didn't stick with him. by the time christmas eve came, more than half of the gifts under the tree were for you. you went to bed that night excited to open all of the gifts he'd gotten for you.

but you woke up to a christmas tree with no gifts beneath it. the tree skirt was bare with no boxes in sight. instead, four bouquets of flowers were sitting where the gifts usually were. confused, you called for seunghan in hopes he could explain what happened. but he never answered. as you investigated further, you noticed a single gift sitting on the branches of the tree. your eyes welled with tears as it revealed a silver ring with a stunning blue diamond. you turned around to see seunghan standing at the doorway with all of your gifts and another bouquet.

"what do you say, angel? would you take my hand in marriage?"

sohee . . .

as much as sohee loves you, it's rare for him to express said love through physical touch. here and there, he'd hold your hand as you walk beside each other or he'd brush your hair behind your ear when you're resting against his shoulder. but typically, he struggles to openly express his affection.

so of course you suspected something was off when he awkwardly held your hand for days straight. since the day before christmas eve, sohee's been so much more cuddly than you're used to. after spending the holidays together for the nth time, he wouldn't leave your side. he was practically clinging onto you from the moment he woke up to the moment he fell asleep in your arms. though you loved every second of it, you began to worry.

to end off christmas day on a cozy note, you put on your coziest sweater and got comfortable in front of the fireplace. not even a few seconds later, sohee hesitantly sat beside you, linking his arm around yours and resting against your shoulder. you pulled the blanket over the two of you and looked down at the clingy boy beside you. resting your hand on his cheek and stroking his soft skin, you asked out of pure concern, "sohee baby, is something wrong? is there something from your christmas list that i missed?" sohee chuckled and shook his head, snuggling closer to you. "what? of course not. i just... have a lot on my mind." even the slightest pout on sohee's face caused you immense discomfort and pain. you couldn't stand hearing he was stressed. "tell me about it, what's upsetting you?" sohee took a few seconds to simply breathe and take in your presence. swallowing back all of his fear, he looked up at you and let everything fall from his lips. "i think... i think i wanna marry you." your heart stood completely still. not a single breath escaped your lips. it was as if your entire world had froze. your love for sohee began overflowing in the form of tears.

"i've never felt so much love for someone as long as i've lived. i want to marry you, y/n."

anton . . .

christmas is always so serious for anton. he does not play when it comes to the holiday festivities. from november 1st all the way through january 31st, your house is full of the prettiest christmas decorations and even gifts. anton buys tons and tons of gifts for you that could last even past christmas. all year round, he takes notes on what items you express a desire for and he brings home all of those gifts on christmas. he just wants nothing but the best for you.

you're far too precious to anton. everything you do makes him feel so overwhelmingly in love with you. no matter how cranky you are, anton will always spoil you with snacks and affection every night. so of course he goes above and beyond for christmas, seizing the opportunity to spoil you rotten.

but you didn't expect there to be this many presents under the tree. you shook your head in both disbelief and astonishment. after eating a fancy breakfast anton had prepared, he urged you to open all of your gifts. you were more than touched to see all of the things you've mentioned to him sitting under the tree. from new clothes to fancy jewelry, anton covered everything you wished for. just when you thought things couldn't get any better, you opened the final box. inside lied a white teddy bear and a pink book sitting beneath it. you wound emotional flipping through the pages and seeing all of the prettiest photos he's taken with you, from the lowest times to the happiest memories you could recall. lying in the center of the last page was a gift you've been waiting for since the moment you met anton. it was a promise ring. looking up at anton with love flowing down your cheeks, you couldn't help but cry out of pure happiness.

"the happiest moments of my life were spent with you, y/n, and i want nothing more than to make even more with you. may i be your husband?"

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⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ tag list! (ask or comment to be added!)

@endtostartbreathin @gacktsa @hanninova @ramyeonzprincess @taroddori

[sadmuso1]

My gift for @scinciidae for the ISAT secret santa exchange!!

Hope you enjoy it and some alt versions, smaller doodle, and some words below the cut!!

I had so much fun making this and while reading your wishlist was just blasted with the thought of bonnie just getting to infodump to the party about reptiles and have not been able to stop thinking about it since!!

really hope you enjoy this and the stupid joke versions my friend’s suggested

(also the doodle should hopefully be transparent if you want to use it for anything!)

[notebooks-and-laptops]

So I'm playing Mass Effect for the first time, and coming out of Veilguard Mass Effect is so jarring in such a wonderful way.

I am right at the beginning of this game and I've already had two side quests which I doubt will add anything to the overarching, but which actually make you THINK about what is the right decision:

A man contacted me about his dead wife. The military won't give back her body so he can't give her a funeral. He asks for your help to get her back. Pretty simple? Except when you get to the military officer he tells you the reason she hasn't been given back is that her body is one of the only bodies they have killed by this specific new and scary weapon. They think they could potentially find ways to defend/cure what happens to you when this weapon is used, but to do so they'll need to be able to work with actual bodies that suffered this damage; and there are so few of them. If they don't find ways of stopping this weapons effects on human bodies it could end up risking thousands of lives. So what do you do? Do you go with the husbands wishes, so he can have closure? She never signed up for this kind of medical research post death! But then, if you push for the body back, what if that really DOES affect their ability to find a cure and protect humanity in the future? Is the trade off worth it?

A woman is refusing to get her baby screened for a genetic disease that killed her husband and has a high chance of killing her baby if the baby inherits it. But there's a 1/3000 chance the procedure could hurt the baby more. Her brother in law is desperate for the baby to get scanned because the disease could be easily cured in-utro if it is found, but not once the baby is born (I don't 100% think this is realistic but hey it's the future whatever). They want your advice on what to do. This is pretty simple, basically, philosophy 101 questioning but it's STILL like. A morality decision the game is asking you to help with

These are both pretty simple; they're good for world building but you could skip them entirely and still have a good game experience. But I wanted to highlight them both because this is EXACTLY what Veilguard was missing. These 'no objectively 100% correct' tiny side quest questions that force the player to think about the world; or allow for deep characterisations of your player character.

Idk man. Like. Bioware was doing this stuff right 15 years ago. It's a real shame that energy isn't still valued because it makes for a MUCH better experience imo

[marvel-snape-writes]

hey i’m absolutely loving the snape oneshots, haven’t read him in a while and im in love again 🤭 anyhow would i be able to request a fluffy smut perhaps there’s been a couple of dates and this is their first time just like wine and lounging around and 😏

😭 thanks x

Was That a Smile, Severus?

Severus Snape x original female character smut

6.7k+ words 18+

The Great Hall was packed with students and teachers all gathered together for the Christmas feast, and the chatter within the room from both was beginning to merge together in one big mist of volume. Professor Snape exhaled slowly as he pushed around the food that was left on his plate, unsure of how much longer he could take the small talk or noise. It wasn't a secret that Severus wasn't exactly the most festive person in the world.

He heard the scraping of the legs from the chair at the side of him but paid it no mind, his eyes still lazily watching himself pushing his food about his plate.

“I don't know about you, but I'm really not fond of attending the party tonight.” A new, familiar voice spoke beside him.

“It would appear you are not alone in that.” Severus spoke without even turning to face her, almost frozen in his seat as his heartbeat sped up briefly.

“Not a massive fan of Christmas parties?” She asked, leaning a little closer to him.

“Not in the slightest.” Severus spoke emotionlessly, leaning back in his chair as his eyes remained fixed on the countless tables of students in front of them.

“Me neither, really.” The female professor shook her head, “If only the venue could be one of the pubs in Hogsmeade; we could just hide around the corner again and have the night to ourselves.”

“That sounds much more appealing.” Severus exhaled slowly, finally glancing over at her as his heart fluttered momentarily from the memory.

She crinkled her nose and brushed her hand over the back of his as she stood up, leaving him in his own thoughts as he watched her walking away. He didn't take his eyes off her until she was out of view, almost convinced that she had only paid him a brief visit to ensure that he would be thinking about her for the rest of the night.

The Christmas ball was more of a Christmas bore to Severus; never having or — previously — wanting to have a partner to dance with. He toyed with the idea of asking her to dance with him, given the success of their first two meetings and that last kiss… Oh, that kiss…

He stood to the side with Professor McGonagal and Professor Dumbledore, politely holding a hand up and shaking his head when they gestured for him to join them upon the dance floor. He never wanted to dance, but she caught his eye from the other side of the room. He had held her hand, sure, even hugged her, but that didn't stop him wondering how it would feel to hold her. Really hold her. Regardless of whether they were alone or in front of the whole school. People were dancing, singing, and chatting around him, but he paid none of it any mind; only she mattered. He scowled briefly when he saw another male Professor approach her and motion toward the dance floor, but his scowl quickly turned into a schoolboy smile when he watched her dismiss his offer. His entire body filled with warmth and he exhaled softly, his eyes not coming off her for even a moment.

“Was that a smile, Severus?” Professor Dumbledore’s voice spoke from the side of him.

Severus was shook out of his trance briefly and he blinked hard, turning to face Dumbledore with squinted eyes as a result of being caught off guard whilst admiring her from across the room.

“Was it?” There was a hint of playfulness in Dumbledore’s voice, “I think it was.”

“If it was, would it matter if I absent myself from… here?” Severus asked lowly, raising his eyebrows in hope.

“You do not need my permission to go as you please, Severus,” Dumbledore narrowed his eyebrows, “It’s Christmas.”

“Thank you, Professor.” Severus nodded politely, a smile forming on his lips from the kindness of Dumbledore’s before turning away.

His eyes found her immediately and he began to make his way across the room, avoiding the dancing people around him and walking toward her. The look on her face as he approached her filled his chest with warmth and he smiled nervously, taking a subtle breath.

“Bored yet?” She asked, raising her eyebrows playfully.

“Tremendously,” Severus sighed dramatically, looking either side of him before speaking again, “I was wondering, Miss Eleanor, if you would care to take a walk with me… outside in the grounds. Be my saving grace.”

“It would be my pleasure.” Eleanor crinkled her nose, smiling.

Severus pondered saying how grateful he was for now having the most beautiful excuse to escape how uncomfortable those events made him, but nerves were beginning to climb him again as he walked them both to the door. They glanced at each other several times once they were through the crowd of people and Severus found the smile on his face becoming more of a permanent fixture.

“Thank you for giving me an excuse to get out of there.” Eleanor half laughed.

“Not at all,” Severus cleared his throat, holding the door open for her to lead them both outside, “I was going to say the same to you, actually.”

“Where shall we go?” She looked up at him.

“Anywhere,” Severus shrugged, then suddenly backtracking, “Within reason, of course.”

“Meaning?” Eleanor squinted her eyes, still looking at him as they walked into the cold.

“Away from… prying eyes.” Severus looked around subtly but cautiously.

“Oh, Severus…” Eleanor rolled her eyes playfully and hooked her arm around his as they walked.

“H—Hm?” Severus raised his eyebrows, forcing his body to unstiffen and act natural once their arms were linked.

She shook her head and giggled to herself, squeezing his arm.

They didn't have a specific route or destination in mind, they just went wherever their feet took them. Moreover, it wasn't that Severus wasn't interested in what she had to say, or in making conversation himself, but more that he couldn't stop thinking about the last time they saw each other and the kiss they shared. He could have sworn he felt the ice around his heart melt the moment their lips touched. He longed for more, that in itself even shocking himself, but he daren't push his luck — not when she was becoming something he didn't want to mess up.

Eleanor’s hands gently massaged his bicep as they continued to walk, half in comfortable silence, half in small talk conversation; the one thing Severus was terribly bad at.

“You looked very pretty tonight.” Severus dared himself to say, often only remembering when it was too late that he quite often lacked in paying complements.

“Looked?” Eleanor gazed up at him, trying not to laugh.

“…yes?” Severus felt his breathing change in fear of having said something wrong, “Is that such a bad thing to say?”

“Well, what do I look like now?” Eleanor raised her eyebrows, now biting her lip as she fought off a laugh from his innocently confused expression.

“I’m sorry?” Severus tilted his head.

“Well, you said I looked very pretty tonight…” She gave his arm another gentle squeeze.

“Yes?” Severus nodded slowly, “You did.”

“Did?” She pursed her lips.

“Oh,” Severus’ eyes widened, “My apologies,” He felt his cheeks turn bright red, “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” She crinkled her nose at his embarrassed face as she looked up at him, “Don't apologise, it was funny.”

“It wasn't meant to be funny, it was meant to be—” Severus protested softly before Eleanor cut him off:

“Severus.” She stopped them as they reached one of the stone archways.

“Yes—”

She leaned up to kiss him, and there it was again; that feeling inside when her lips touched his. His hands instinctively cupped her face and he tilted his head, taking a shaky breath against her lips. He felt her smile against him and place her hands against his chest, nudging her nose against his.

“Mm, hi.” She whispered against his lips, pausing briefly.

“Hi.” Severus let out a bashful schoolboy chuckle against her lips as he felt her take his hands and place them upon her hips, leaning up on her tiptoes to kiss him again.

“This is already better than half the dancing in there.” She giggled, her hands now back against his chest again.

“Only half?” Severus arched a brow with a playful smile.

“Well, I didn't see you offering.” She winked, pushing him gently.

“Nor will you ever.” Severus chuckled, leaning down to peck her lips again.

“Oh, charming.” She responded with a teasingly offended expression.

“Wait, no, I didn't mea—”

“Shut up and kiss me, you fool,” Eleanor laughed, sliding her hands up to his shoulders as she leaned up on her tiptoes to press their lips back together.

Severus let out a shaky breath against her lips and advanced forward slightly, pushing her back against the stone archway. Eleanor squeezed his shoulders gently and then moved her hands up into his hair, playing with it as the kiss deepened. As stated previously, they had shared a kiss before, but not one like this. Even in its innocent, barely wandering hands state, this kiss was already more than the couple they had shared as they last bid each other goodnight.

“Would you like to come back to mine?” Confidence suddenly swelled in him.

“But, Severus,” She spoke in between kissing him again, “What if people see us both disappearing together?”

“I take full responsibility for the consequences.” Severus responded, grinning when he felt her gasp against his lips.

“Well, in that case, how could a girl refuse?” Eleanor crinkled her nose as the kiss broke, gazing up into his eyes.

Severus glanced over his shoulder to make sure the grounds were still clear before turning back to Eleanor and gesturing for her to walk with him again. Although Severus chose the most secluded route back to his chamber, he secretly longed for the day he would proudly walk through the crowds of Hogwarts arm in arm with her, showing her off for all to see.

“Take a seat,” Severus gestured to the sofa in the middle of the room and flicked his wand toward the open fire in front of it, setting the logs alight, “Make yourself comfortable.”

“Thank you,” Eleanor crinkled her nose, sitting down and enjoying the warmth from the fire.

Severus’ heart was beating subtly but hard; he had never been with her in such a one-on-one setting. He was already worried about fumbling over his words, or getting ahead of himself — though, he would be the first to admit that it would be much more likely that he would completely miss any of her signals initiating anything more than a kiss.

The truth was that he had gone over this moment several times in his head, even down to the wine he was currently pouring into two glasses upon the counter.

“I really appreciated the way you turned the other Professor down when he asked you to dance…” He carefully carried the glasses over to the sofa, placing them both on the table in front of it.

“Oh, really?” Eleanor smiled softly, watching him, “Did I make it too obvious that my only interest and intentions lay with you?” She giggled.

“N-Not at all,” Severus shook his head, handing her, her glass, “It was just nice for you to… accompany me for a walk.”

“A walk in the grounds and wine?” Eleanor gazed up at him with a playful expression, “Who knew Severus Snape had it in him…”

“Do not take it for granted.” Severus attempted to flirt back, joining her on the sofa.

“To tell you the truth, Severus, I don’t take any of the time with you for granted.” She smiled softly, sipping at her glass of wine.

“R-Really?” Severus felt himself blushing, lifting his wine glass to his lips to try and cover it up.

“I think you know I do.” She spoke softly, placing one of her hands upon his knee.

“Well, I… enjoy spending time… with you, too.” Severus felt both like he wanted the ground to swallow him up from confessing this and relieved at the same time.

Eleanor didn't respond verbally straight away, just gently rubbed his knee with her hand. Severus exhaled as he swallowed the mouthful of wine and rested the glass against his thigh, looking toward the flickering fire as he tried not to focus too much on the feeling of her hand against him.

“Everything alright?” Eleanor asked as Severus lifted the glass back to his lips again.

“Yes, yes, sorry, I…” He swallowed hard, “I don't think I have ever admitted that before. Well, not to the extent of how I mean it… towards you.”

“Hey, look at me,” Eleanor reached out with one of her hands and cupped his cheek in it, turning his head toward her, “I know.”

“It's not very hard to see that Christmas isn’t a time you’re used to celebrating.” She gently caressed her thumb against his cheek.

“No,” Severus sighed, shaking his head, “I’ve never really had a reason to.”

“Not yet.” She grinned, gently clinking her wine glass against his.

Severus’ gaze fell to their glasses and then to her lips, finding himself smiling again.

“For people to say you dress like an overgrown bat, you certainly have a very cozy chamber.” She changed the conversation, not wanting him to become uncomfortable.

“People say that?” Severus asked in a tone that she had never heard before.

“Well, I just remind them that it's what's underneath the clothes that really matters.” She shrugged, smiling sweetly in fear of her previous complement of his chamber backfiring.

“Hm?” Severus leaned back into the sofa, “Well, if that’s the case, the mind boggles at what's under yours.”

“Professor Snape!” She scoffed playfully, “Is this you trying to flirt?” She moved slightly closer to him and spoke in a tone as if afraid they would be overheard, “Because, keep plying me with wine, and you might just find out.”

“O-Oh, no, please don't think that is what I meant o-or—” He swallowed hard, widening his eyes, “Or the reason for the wine, I just…”

“You know, you’re making me wonder whether I enjoy kissing you because I want to,” She placed her wine glass down, “Or whether to just shut you up.”

“Either suits me,” Severus spoke lowly, their eyes meeting as their heads turned to face one another properly.

Within a matter of seconds their lips pressed against each other again and Severus’ body froze from the pure want of it. He kissed her back immediately and tilted his head, allowing her to reach for his hand and place it against her waist as the kiss deepened even further than the one against the stone arch. Severus’ inexperienced hand lightly caressed her waist from over her dress and he sighed softly into the kiss, parting his lips as her tongue teased between them. He wasn't entirely sure what move to make next; what was too much, what was too subtle, what was… right.

“How about we see if what’s underneath really does matter, hm?” Eleanor spoke softly against his lips, playing with one of the buttons on his clothing, “Would that be okay?”

Severus nodded, unsure of his own name at this point. Eleanor began to unbutton his clothing and he dared to lightly pull at her dress with his trembling fingers. To be wanted like this was so foreign to him, he didn't want to put a single foot wrong. In fact, to be wanted at all was not something he had often experienced in his life.

He gently bit down on her lip and pulled it out a bit, enjoying the noise she made whilst doing so. His buttons popped open with ease and, despite how self conscious he usually was, he willingly sat up so she could push his overcoat and shirt off him, breaking the kiss briefly to glance down at his now bare chest.

“It's okay,” She spoke softly when she felt him lightly grasp at the material of her dress again, “My clothing comes off, too.”

“Can I… see?” Severus swallowed hard, half expecting a slap across the face.

Eleanor nodded and stood up, reaching out for him with both of her hands. Severus took them and stood up, watching closely as she guided one of his hands to the zip on the back of her dress and turned around. Severus grasped the small metal zip between his finger and thumb and took a deep breath before starting to unzip the back of her dress. His eyes widened with each bit of skin that was revealing itself to him and silently thanked her for not facing him so she couldn't see quite how red his face was becoming.

“Easy, right?” She giggled once the zip was at the bottom.

“R-Right…” Severus nodded shakily, only able to watch in awe as it fell off her shoulders and pooled to the floor as she turned back around to face him whilst unclasping her bra.

He blinked hard, mesmerised by the image in front of him and felt his confidence swell again, leaning forward to desperately press their lips together. Eleanor’s arms snaked around his neck and she leaned up on her tiptoes, kissing him back immediately and pressing her breasts against his chest; resulting in something other than his confidence beginning to swell.

“Mm, Professor…” She grinned when he nudged himself forward slightly, “I do hope that is your wand.”

Severus made a soft noise against her lips when she brushed her body forward, lightly scratching the nape of his neck with her fingers. Their tongues tangled and Severus ran his inexperienced fingertips back and forth over her bare skin. One of Eleanor’s hands trailed down Severus’ bare chest and stomach, making Severus shiver from the feeling of it. Whilst his hands lightly massaged her skin, Eleanor’s made quick work of the button on his trousers; popping it open and pulling down the zip. As his trousers hit the floor, she lightly nudged her palm against the bulge in the front of his boxers, earning a soft moan from him.

“C—Careful…” Severus swallowed hard, taking a shaky breath against her lips, “I…”

“Even bigger than I expected,” Eleanor licked his bottom lip, lightly grasping his erection from over his underwear as the kiss deepened.

“Fuck…” Severus spoke practically inaudibly and felt himself going dizzy, urging for her to rid him of his underwear completely.

She dipped her hand inside his boxers and wrapped it around him, gently jerking her fist up and down as he continued to groan against her lips, his hands now on her underwear and lightly flexing the waistband of it as she continued to taunt him. To be touched like this was something he didn't even dream about, he was that convinced it would never happen to him. His jaw clenched and wanted to sit back and enjoy the feeling, but he also wanted to stress his urgency of long pent up release.

“Oh, you want them off, too?” She smirked when she felt him pull the waistband of her underwear away from her skin completely.

“Mmmh, yes,” Severus breathed heavily, feeling his length pulsate both from the feeling of her fist still stroking him and the question she had just asked.

“What the Professor wants, the Professor gets,” She pulled back from the kiss slowly, glancing down between them both and then back up at him, “If you do the same.”

Severus nodded, barely even able to believe that he was about to do this. Never had he ever allowed himself to be this vulnerable in front of someone.

Soon enough, both pairs of underwear were on the floor, and they both stood there in the nude. For the first time - first time in his��life, from memory - he was unashamedly stood completely vulnerable in the nude. He didn't even like seeing himself naked, let alone someone else seeing him. Something about her made him feel shamelessly confident.

“Your wand or not, it certainly looks like it’s capable of creating its own form of magic.” She licked her lips, gazing upon his hardened cock standing proudly to attention.

They hadn't even done anything and Severus’ chest was already heaving up and down. His eyes couldn't quite believe what he could see in front of him. He was in a trance so much that anything she said was just a murmur. Eleanor placed her hands upon his shoulders and gently pushed him back down onto the sofa, licking her lips as her eyes feasted on his large length now casting an impressive shadow over his lower stomach. Severus’ eyes trailed all the way up her naked body until their eyes met and he swallowed hard, watching as she began to climb over him.

“Mm, hi again,” She nudged her lips against his, taking his hands and placing them against her waist.

“H-Hi…” Severus whimpered when he felt her reach down to carefully position his length.

Their lips smacked together as the two of them slotted together like a surprisingly easy jigsaw. Eleanor, able to feel the roaring fire behind her, stayed still for a few moments, allowing herself to adjust to the impressive length now situated inside her.

“Everything okay?” She whispered softly, pecking his lips as she raised her hips slightly.

“Quite perfect,” Severus nodded, gazing up at her with heavy eyes.

“Remember where your hands are,” She lightly patted them as they remained over her hips, “You’re in control,” She kissed him again, “I’m all yours.”

Severus nodded weakly and remained with his hands against her hips as she began to move over him, her own hands now back against his shoulders as he kissed her hungrily. He whimpered softly at the feeing of her gliding back and forth over him with ease and began to moan each time she sat over him fully.

Severus could not put into words how he felt in this exact moment. He had enjoyed the times they had shared together, sure, or the dates as she called them, but he never in a million years expected for them to end up like this. Despite not being involved with anyone sexually, he wasn’t completely blind to what turned him on and what didn’t. However, the undeniable, nonjudgmental want she had for him was what drove him wild the most.

Their teeth collided as they kissed and Eleanor bunched his hair up in her hands, moaning into his mouth as she moved over him. Severus let out a heavy grunt when he began to lift and lower her with his hands, urging her to move even faster.

“Mm, you like that?” Eleanor broke the kiss and gazed down at him with heavy eyes, biting her lip as she started grinding her hips forward at the same time.

“Ugh, fuck, yes,” He nodded, his mouth hanging open as he rested his head back against the back of the sofa.

“So- fucking- big…” She spoke as she lowered herself over him, latching her lips onto his neck and sucking on it gently.

Severus’ hands moved from her hips to her back, creating red marks from how much their bodies were writhing against each other and how desperate he was to keep hold of her. He hissed in pleasure through clenched teeth when he felt her flicking her tongue against the sensitive red mark now upon his neck.

He was feeling a very unfamiliar flame beginning to climb up his body, both intrigued and afraid of what would happen if it was taunted further. His thighs tensed and his cock throbbed with desperate need of Eleanor’s movements to never stop. The way she moved over him and moans she breathed against his skin told him she was feeling quite the same, only turning him on all the more.

“I— I think something is about… t-to happen…” He whimpered, now trembling beneath her.

“Yes?” Eleanor gasped in pleasure, “Yes!” She took one of his hands and placed it between her legs, guiding him to exactly where she wanted him to touch her.

“Wh.. What are…” He swallowed hard, the flames now licking further up his body.

“Make me cum, Severus,” She whispered against his lips, moaning as he began to move his fingertips in circular motions.

“B—But you’re going to make me-!” He shouted in pleasure, his back starting to arch off the sofa.

“Y—Yes, Professor, l-like-! That!” She cried, her eyes rolling back at the feeling of both his length repeatedly sliding in and out of her and his shockingly skilled fingers.

“Eleanor!” He felt her tighten around him, unable to hold back for even a moment longer as the blaze of ecstasy took over him completely, “Eleanor!”

His hot release shot inside her, the both of them emitting echoing moans which bounced against his chamber walls. The fire was still roaring against her back, resulting in even more glistening sweat on their bodies and the smell of sex radiating off them. The movements didn't die down for a long while, still grasping at each other’s naked bodies as they continued to quite literally ride out their orgasms.

“Severus…” Eleanor breathed out her words, resting her forehead against his shoulder as they both tried to catch their breath.

“W—Was that…” Severus swallowed hard, his arms yearning to be wrapped around her again but feeling physically too exhausted to do so, “Was that okay?”

“Okay?” Eleanor lifted her head and reached for their glasses of wine, handing Severus’ to him, “That was everything, Severus,” She took a sip, enjoying the feeling of his chest still raising and falling against her as he did the same, “I have never known anything to be so worth the wait.”

Severus would be lying if he said he had never felt passion or desire before in his life, but he could count on one hand how many times he had acted upon it. It was unknown for him to even allow himself to think about taking matters into his own hands, let alone become completely vulnerable to another person.

He wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened to him, but all he knew was that he wanted to do it again, and again, and again. And they did. With only sips of wine between, they had their way with each other on the sofa a second time; though this time with Severus’ weight on top of her. Eleanor devoured the view as he towered over her whilst he devoured her.

Tumbling into his bedroom was the next location — albeit to fall asleep, but that soon developing into a literal tumble in the sheets. He didn't even know where his energy had suddenly come from, he could only pin point the fact she had made him feel like he had found a new lease of life. When he awoke this morning, he had no idea this is how he would be going to bed tonight.

“You know, we’re going to have to stop this.” Eleanor breathed out her words as she rolled off him.

“Hm, what?” Severus stretched his arms above his head before rolling onto his side and gazing down at her with his head propped up on his hand, “Why?”

“Because then I'll want to go to sleep like this every night.” She giggled, lightly tracing a pattern against his bicep with her finger.

“If you so wish…” He pursed his lips, glancing at her finger and then her, “You can.”

“Mm,” She leaned in to peck his pursed lips, “I have corrupted Severus Snape.”

“You have,” He nodded, sighing dramatically, “And you’ll pay for it!”

Eleanor opened her mouth to respond but quickly turned into a fit of giggles as Severus quickly wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her gently as she wriggled in his grip. He couldn't remember a time he had ever made someone laugh like this, and, even more to the point, he couldn't remember a time where he laughed like this.

Eleanor turned around with her back to him and settled back into his arms against his body. Severus planted soft kisses along her shoulder and sighed softly, his eyes closing in content.

“I am just satisfied to know that I have made you, of all people, smile on Christmas Day,” She spoke softly, able to feel his smile against her skin once more, “It can always be like this, you know. Never spend it alone again.”

“You are not just a reason to look forward to Christmas, dear Miss Eleanor,” His lips made it to her neck, now whispering into her ear, “You are my reason to look forward to every day.”

“Well, this can be your every day, too…” She spoke timidly, placing her hands over his that were wrapped around her waist from behind.

“I would really like that, actually,” Severus replied quicker than he even anticipated, raising his eyebrows when Eleanor turned her head, kissing him with a grin, “Really like it.”

Eleanor crinkled her nose as they kissed, gently nudging their noses together before turning back around again and snuggling back into his embrace. Severus sighed softly and closed his eyes, resting his lips against the back of her shoulder again and allowing her to feel a new, all-too-familiar prod against her back as she gasped and whispered into the darkness with a grin;

“Again?”

—

Thank you SO much for reading! I hope all of those celebrating have a fabulous Christmas and that everyone has a fabulous day 😊🎅🏼🎄🎁

Tags! ❤️

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[jessiexflem]

- all-american | jessie fleming x reader

content: fluff, UCLA Jessie! (and Teagan being a butthead)

requests are open :)

“You’re staring again,” Teagan pokes her teammate with the eraser on her pencil.

Heat rises up Jessie’s neck and face as she turns her head to glare at the Australian, “I am not!”

“Oh, whatever,” Teagan scoffs, rolling her eyes, “you’ve been giving her heart-eyes the entire time we’ve been here.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah? Then what’s the answer for number twelve?”

Jessie glances down at her calculus homework, the paper mostly unaltered except where she had scribbled her name in the top corner. 

“Thought so,” Teagan replies smugly, “Gotta get your head screwed on, Jess, our grades depend on it.”

“You aren’t even supposed to be talking right now,” Jessie points at the ‘quiet please’ sign above the librarian’s head before focusing back on her homework, hoping it would encourage her friend to drop the subject.

“Come on, Jess, why don’t you just ask her out?” 

“I thought you told me to focus on our homework,” Jessie sets her pencil down with a huff, “Plus, why would I do that?”

“Because you like her?” the Australian gives her a ‘duh?’ look.

“No, I don’t!” Jessie’s cheeks flush, “What makes you think that?”

“Well, for starters, we’ve been sitting here for over an hour, and you haven’t noticed that I moved your calculator underneath my notebook” Teagan chuckles, “Not to mention, any time you see her, she’s all you can talk about for hours. ‘Y/N’s so smart, Y/N showed me how to do this in lab, Y/N wasn’t in class today, and I missed her so mu–’”

“We’re just lab partners, that’s all,” Jessie shakes her head. 

Teagan crosses her arms, tipping her chair onto its back legs. She narrows her eyes at her roommate, a cheeky smile tugging at her lips. “Alright, so if you insist you don’t like Y/N, you won’t mind if I ask her out on a date?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“But you don’t like her, right? So, you wouldn’t be jealous?”

“Go for it,” Jessie replies dryly. She knew there was no way Teagan would actually ask you out, she barely knew you. She wouldn’t even know who you were if she hadn’t (annoyingly) crashed one of your study sessions during midterms last semester. 

Putting her head down, Jessie redirects her attention back to her neglected math problems. The assignment was due at midnight, and she managed to make zero progress. Copying the numbers from the first question, she starts working through the equation until she realizes she needs a function on her graphing calculator.

“Can I have my calc–” Jessie stops mid-sentence as she looks up to see Teagan waving you over to their table, “What are you doing?!”

“You said I could ask Y/N out, so I figured I’d catch her as she was leaving.”

Backpack slung over your shoulders, you weave your way toward where the two were sitting. You notice Jessie’s posture tense as she whispers frantically to her teammate. Catching her eye, you direct a smile at your lab partner.

“Y/N!” Teagan greets cheerfully, “Done studying for the day?”

You shrug, “I should probably look over my ethics study guide a bit more, but I could feel my brain going numb and figured it was time for a break. What about you two?”

“Well, if you’re needing another study break later this week,” Teagan starts. Intrigued by what she had to say, you didn’t notice the color drain from Jessie’s normally rosy cheeks. “We were wondering if you were free Saturday afternoon? Jessie and I have a game at 4, and we wanted to invite you to watch.”

Jessie, realizing she was subconsciously holding her breath, let out a deep exhale. 

“I’d love to! I haven’t been able to make it out to one yet,” you say as your phone begins to buzz in your hand, “I’ve got to head out, but text me the details, Jess?”

Jessie nods rapidly, her brain unable to form a coherent answer. She watches you walk away, feeling Teagan’s eyes burning a hole in her cheek. She didn’t even have to turn her head to know that her friend had the biggest smirk on her face.

“So, if I ever think that my lab partner’s getting asked out on a date, should I look like I’m about to puke, too? Or are you going to admit you have a crush on the girl?” Teagan teases.

“I hate you,” Jessie mutters, glaring at her.

“Bet you can’t wait to show off your first team All-American skills, huh? You better practice what goal celebration you’re going to dedicate to her.”

“I’m done talking to you.”

“Jessie and Y/N, sitting in a tree, K–”

“Just give me my calculator back.”

--------------------------------------

Jessie was having a horrible game. She couldn’t remember the last time she played this poorly. Constantly losing the ball in the midfield, getting outrun and out-muscled by her opposing mark. Her head was running a thousand miles a minute, and the only thing she could focus on was that Y/N was sitting front row. 

It was the opposing team’s corner, and Teagan was shouting directions, ensuring each of her outfielders had their mark. The ball gets served in, and Jessie goes up for the header, making contact square on her forehead. However, instead of directing the ball out of the 18, her body was angled slightly toward the goal, meaning the ball veered toward Teagan instead. Luckily, it hit off the post and fell to their teammate, Hailie’s, feet, who cleared the ball toward midfield.

“Jessie, what the hell?” Jessie hears Teagan shout from behind her.

The halftime whistle blows, and Jessie couldn’t get to the locker room faster. Before she could reach her cubby, Coach Cromwell pulls her off to the side.

“Fleming, do you want to explain why it looks like you’ve never touched a soccer ball before in your life?” Coach Cromwell raises an eyebrow at her. 

“I–I don’t know, nerves, I guess,” Jessie gnaws on the inside of her cheek, unable to make eye contact with her coach.

“Well, you better get your nerves sorted by the end of halftime unless you want to get benched for the rest of the game.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jessie nods, keeping her head down as she shuffles to her locker. Teagan, assigned the cubby next to her, frowns at her, brows furrowed with concern.

The second half went smoother for the midfielder. Her tackles were timed better, and she had better possession of the ball. The game remained tied at 0-0, UCLA pushing the ball into the opposing half of the field. Hailie sent a ball into Jessie’s feet, and she dribbled down the sideline, the opposing winger closing in on her. Faking left, she got the opponent to bite, leaving her a hole for Jessie to slip the ball between her legs. The crowd went nuts, you included. Jessie laid the ball off for her teammate, Ashley, who took the ball into the corner drawing a defender so the Canadian could make a run in. Ashley crossed a low-through ball into the box, which Jessie met at the top of the six, slotting it into the bottom-left corner of the goal. 

You jumped to your feet, cheering as loud as you could. Noticing Jessie scanning the crowd, you give her an overexaggerated wave, to which she acknowledges with a smile. The game ends 2-0, Ashley tacking on another goal in the final two minutes. Waiting for Jessie and Teagan to complete their “good games” and post-game huddle, you stick yourself by the fence in a spot where they could easily find you. 

“Y/N, you made it!” Teagan exclaims, jogging over, Jessie not far off her heels. 

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” you beam, “you guys did awesome! Great goal, Jess.”

Jessie’s cheeks flush as Teagan throws an arm around her, “She nearly had two.”

“You’re never letting me live that down, will you?” she groans, trying to avoid Teagan’s soft punches to her ribs.

“Teagan!” the three of you turn to see Hailie motioning Teagan back over to the bench, giggling, “Come here!”

“I’ll be back,” Teagan says, shooting Jessie an obvious wink before running off. Jessie throws her hands up in protest, grumbling something under her breath. She turns back to you, cheeks still red.

“Um, thanks for coming to watch,” she smiles sheepishly. A few yards behind her, she can hear Teagan making loud, fake coughs. Their conversation from the other day flashes through her mind. “I still have to shower, but would you, uh, maybe want to get dinner? With me, I mean?”

“Teagan and Hailie, too? Or, are you asking me out on a date?” you grin.

“I–well, I mean,” Jessie stammers, her face hot. 

“Because I’d much rather it be a date,” you assure.

Relief floods through Jessie’s entire body. “Then it’s a date.”

[thebloodyheartgirl]

The villain had for years decried the Grand Syndicate, a coalition of heroes who were allegedly brought together to keep world peace. In actuality this group was as corrupt as any villain organization. Bribes, cover-ups, murder, crippling new heroes and villains, and a long laundry list of crimes that went back to the sixties. When the Villain was young he had been an up and coming hero that had managed to stop a smuggling ring of a rare ore used mostly in creating gadgets and cybernetics.

What he didn't know was that this smuggling ring had been led by Cyber-Supreme, a member of the Grand Syndicate. He lost everything, a veritable army of cybernetic-equipped goons came and burned his house and his family to the ground. In the news it was said that it was the work of an Anti-Human Cyborg Terrorist organization which Cyber-Supreme swore he would take care of immediately. His parents and sister were simply written off as casualties of a domestic war on terror.

He spent years working in the shadows from there, hunting down the members of this terrorist cell and studying cybernetics and data analysis so he could find any evidence of why they seemed to target his house first. He found it hidden in the databanks of one of their leaders and the house of cards he had built the Syndicate up to came tumbling down.

At first he simply protested, he tried to spread the word about what the heroes had done as he dug deeper and deeper and found even more and more evidence of the entire Syndicate being little more than a front for corruption and malice. No one believed him. To society the Syndicate were heroes among heroes and they wouldn't believe a single hero who lost his family.

He spent months afterwards in the depths of despair, drinking, moving from place to place, and finally when he found himself alone in an alleyway and thought back to what he lost and who he had lost it to and he decided then and there that if he couldn't prove their corruption as a hero, he would become their greatest villain. So began the career of the Cybernetic Supervillain D34TH K1NG. He replaced a good chunk of his body with customized cybernetics meant for hacking and data storage and he was able to take the powers he had used since the beginning, powers that most would confuse with necromancy but were little more than powers over decay and summoning skeletons, and began his work.

He became public enemy number one nearly overnight as he hit every possible organization that came under the protection and purview of the Grand Syndicate. Despite his outward villainy, he never harmed a single civilian and some civilians would even notice that his skeletons were keeping civilians out of harm's way in almost every situation where he fought one of the Syndicate.

Using the outward destruction as a cover, he hacked into and gathered information over the syndicate. With every battle his database grew and after years of back and forth, of fight after fight against the syndicate's forces. He had enough, he gave his ultimatum on a multi-channel broadcast sent across the entire world.

"Greetings Citizens of the World, I am the Syndicate's Greatest Villain and Foe. D34TH K1NG. For years I've fought against them, battled their forces, faced them in countless bouts of combat. I've won some, I've lost some. They have been lying to you for years, I have evidence of the syndicate's corruption, of their lies, and it will all be broadcast in an hour. I need this hour to gather all the information together across my myriad databases but if the Syndicate thinks they can stop me, I will be waiting."

With the Syndicate's information network it didn't take long to find where he was broadcasting from, the basement of a house in an old neighborhood that had been abandoned after an attack by a terrorist organization, the villain's old home. They rushed over after a quick interview, determined to stop the K1NG from revealing their corruption.

Although he knew they'd bring many of their forces, he didn't expect them to bring everyone. As he realized this and before they arrived he pressed a button that caused a live camera feed to open and be broadcast across the world and the world watched as they overpowered him, broke him, let him hold onto hope as they resolved to not stop the countdown until the last possible minute, to make the story of their triumph even more dramatic in the eyes of the media.

As he laid on the ground, having been tortured by the syndicate, he wept. The people he once thought were his heroes, that he had fought against for years, would they really win? Would his plans be for nought? He cried out in agony, his sorrow, his hurt, his rage against the unfairness of this world. The Syndicate's forces laughed at him but little did they know someone heard his cry, someone who had been sleeping for long before the syndicate existed who had just woken up.

A flash of wind, the slamming of feet on the ground, and the flutter of a cape. That's all that anyone had heard before he appeared before them. The Eye of Truth, the Hero of Heroes, The Paragon of Truth and Justice for all. Gaia the Champion. He had gone missing over 70 years ago after his battle against an intergalactic conqueror that sought to conquer earth by claiming he had bought the rights to it's colonization. He had been gravely injured in the fight and left things to the next generation of heroes as he left to go and heal from his wounds.

This living legend stood between the villain and the "Heroes" standing between them. As the Syndicate's leader walked up to greet the Relic, D34TH K1NG cried out. He explained how he was once a hero, how he had lost his family due to the machinations of the syndicate, and how he had done all this to make sure they could be brought to an end, that they could never hurt anyone again. He struggled, coughing up blood from his wounds as he looked up at Gaia with pleading eyes.

Their Leader laughed and told his side of the story, how death king had caused untold harm to the world, how he was a villain of villains and deserved nothing more than to be locked up for his crimes. A series of lies woven together to form a truth accepted by the greater world, something the syndicate had formed across the countless battles against their foe. Instead of Gaia joining them however, the leader found his throat gripped by the legendary hero as he was raised into the air.

"Good? Evil? Those words are meaningless to me. I have always only fought for Truth and Justice for all. These eyes of mine see through your lies, your subversion, and I see the sins you and your ilk have committed. Now you shall face Justice at my hands." The entire world watched from their seats across the world as the Syndicate fell at the hands of Gaia. He overpowered them in a way unlike them, taking them down quickly and without resorting to torture like they had done against D34TH K1NG.

As the entire syndicate laid down, broken and battered, Gaia gathered them and tied them all together using a large steel girder he quickly moved and grabbed from a construction site. He then helped K1NG to his feet and flew off with him as the timer counted down to zero. With this, the syndicate's crimes were broadcasted to everyone on the planet, evidence of corruption of the highest level blasted on every forum, every image board, every possible social media website came to know of how truly depraved the Syndicate was.

With the death of the Syndicate came the return of Gaia and D34TH K1NG was revealed to be in a medically induced coma until his body could recover from it's wounds. He awoke a month later, groaning as he looked down at his now healed injuries, scars, bumps, and bruises now littered his body. What he didn't expect though was for Gaia to be waiting by his bedside.

"D34TH K1NG was it? I have to say I'm impressed with the depth of your Journalism here, ya really don't get an investigation like this anymore." He watched the legendary Hero of Heroes struggle with a tablet as he looked over everything the now former villain had discovered. "Reminds me of my days back before I became Gaia, y'know I used to be a Journalist too? Part of the reason why I put so much importance on actual Truth and Justice."

He just stared as he looked at Gaia and Gaia looked back before the villain said: "My name's Justin. Gotta say I...you kinda took me off guard here. Didn't expect THE Gaia to still be around." He laughed, gaia laughed, and they spent the night talking, just talking about their lives, themselves, and the world around them.

Afterwards, the syndicate fell, every single one of their members found themselves locked up in the same high-security super prison they had sent countless villains to in their time. Gaia once more rose to popularity as he quickly went around the world taking care of corruption and injustice wherever it lie and this time he had a partner. The former D34TH K1NG Had rebranded to Cybermancer-J and had brought together a new team of heroes to work alongside Gaia. The earth had much to recover from but with this new group of heroes at the helm, it was looking bright.

(SORRY if it's super long, this is my first time doing a writing prompt type thing, hope ya like!)

The strongest superpowered individual on Earth, curiously, does not fight for good or evil. He fights for the truth, blindly. When the superhero team calls for aid in their final conftrontation with the villain, he unsurprisingly shows up. What was a surprise was him slaughtering the heroes.

[growth-opportunities]

Your wife has been going to therapy for her size greed. Her boobs are already the biggest of everyone she knows. But one look at your new neighbors and your wife relapses.

"Honey, come down from there. Stop leering at the poor girl."

"Hah! Poor? With tits like those? The only part of her that I have any pity for at all is her lower back."

"Just leave her alone. If anyone sees you looking over the fence, I'm not going to defend you."

"What defense could I need? God, Paul, she's doing yoga in a fucking bikini that has to be three sizes too small! Anyone with eyes would want to look at that!"

"Baby, please. She's still a teenager for the next six months and I don't think her parents would be as understanding as you want them to be. Remember the affirmations that Dr. Whitney taught you? Your body is beautiful. You don't need to compare-"

"I just..."

"And, need I remind you, as busty as that girl is, you are still bigger than her."

"I know! I know, it's just that... Remember my freshman year of college?"

"Babe, it was a long-"

"Remember my freshman fifteen?"

"....Yes?"

"Remember how just about all of it went to my tits? How I doubled in size by spring break? How each pound added to my body just made my bras and my shorts tighter until I was overflowing, bulging out of every-"

"I get it! What's your point?

"So if I doubled in size, then so could she! And she's starting from so much bigger than I did! She'll be massive! Enormous! She'll be-"

"For god's sake, Rachel, get a hold of yourself!"

"Please Paul? Just one more transfer. Just one and then I'll be done."

"Rach, I don't think that's-"

"Come on, baby. Tell me you don't want to see me that big. Tell me you don't want to feel tits that fucking big overflowing your hands or between your lips or completely smothering your hard-"

"Alright! One more. And then we're seeing Dr. Whitney three times a week."

"Deal! Oh, baby, you're not going to regret this. Trust me, I'll make it worth your while. Fuck, I'll probably be able to smother your whole head between them!"

[blackenedsnow]

OMG YOUR BLOG IS SO SO SO COOL ??? HELLO?? IM IN LUV W YOUR LAYOUT AAAAA

soeey but may i make a request pls i beg bc ive been thinking ab this all day every day for like a week 😭😭 is it okay to request slashers reacting to you faking an 0rgasm?? 😭 specifically micheal bc I'm in my mikey phase but if not then don't worry about it <3<3<3 but tag me if possible !! thank you!!!

slashers reactions to you faking an orgasm

WARNING ; NSFW/18+, fake orgasms

PAIRING: Michael Myers x Reader, Jason Voorhees x Reader, Billy Loomis x Reader

NOTE: Omg, first of all, thank you for the sweet words about my blog!! 🖤 I didn't know what other slashers to put so I put a few in those feel spinner thingys and chose like that. Hope you enjoy!

MICHAEL MYERS

He knows your body better than anyone, and the moment he catches onto the fact that you faked it?

He goes completely still.

No breathing, no movement—just his blank mask staring at you like you’ve committed a cardinal sin.

He’s not mad, per se.

He’s disappointed.

But also? He takes it as a personal challenge.

You think you need to fake it? That you’d have to with him?

Oh, he’s going to prove you so wrong.

Expect him to be relentless.

He’ll have you pinned under his weight, utterly at his mercy, as he drags it out of you for real this time.

And you won’t be able to fake anything by the end of it—not with the way he watches you like a predator, soaking in every sound and twitch you make.

(And yeah, maybe he’s a little salty. He’ll take his time, make you beg, just to remind you who’s in charge here.)

JASON VOORHEES

He’s not exactly the most experienced in this department, but he tries so hard to please you.

When you fake it, he stops immediately.

He looks at you with confusion, maybe even a little bit of hurt.

Jason doesn’t understand why you’d fake something like this.

Did he hurt you? Did you not want to be with him? Were you bored? His mind spirals into self-doubt.

He’ll sit back, his big hands resting on your thighs as he studies your face, searching for answers.

If you admit you were faking it, Jason might feel a little dejected, but he’ll try to do better.

He’s nothing if not attentive, and he’ll take your cues more seriously from now on.

Honestly, he’s so focused on making you happy that the whole situation ends up being more of a learning experience than anything else.

Jason just wants to be a good partner.

BILLY LOOMIS

Oh, you’re gonna regret this one, babe.

Billy is petty as hell.

The second he catches on, he stops everything.

Completely.

Pulls back, smirking down at you with that cocky, condescending expression.

What follows is absolute hell—the good kind, though.

Billy edges you mercilessly, taking you right to the brink over and over again until you’re begging him to let you finish.

When he finally lets you come undone, it’s explosive.

Billy makes sure you won’t even think about faking it again.

And, of course, he’ll tease you about it for weeks afterward.