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prettyboykatsuki · 3 years ago

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later | m. izuku

➳ tags ;; fluff, confessions, deku is smooth, kissing, fluff, fem!reader implied i think

➳ wc ;; 2.4k (wtf)

➳ a/n ;; brainrot......

➳ plot ;; izuku midoriya listens to you when you tell him to confess to you again later. he’s waited his whole life for you but he doesn’t know how much longer he can

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He thinks to himself often that it has to be you he’s been chasing all this time.

This isn’t so much a revelation to him. It’s nothing like eureka moment, an aha that he uncovers after years of reflection. After all, he’s not the type to know what he really wants.

Which is funny for many reasons but mostly because he’s a hero. He did want that, still does - but it wasn’t really an active choice. It wasn’t the desire to become a hero in terms of glamour and fame but a deep-seated knowing about the fact he had to become one. That the desire to save people above all else was rooted and deeply ingrained in him that there would never be anything that would fulfill him quite the same way.

He finds it more often than not he’s acting out of pure instinct. Something carnal and perhaps other-worldly that pins him to the world in an almost divine way. All or nothing, there’s one way to approach existence and it’s with this unwavering desire to be kind.

He’s always been that kind of person.

But, if he sat down and thought about it, the desire to be with you is perhaps one of his own. It’s one of the only things he’d chase to the ends of the earth.

Izuku Midoriya has loved you since he was 14

The first time he ever confessed to you was when he was 15, about half way into his first year at U.A. It was outside of your apartment - your childhood home. He’d walk you there after his classes, when he caught you returning from your own. It was an awkward and clumsy teenage confession even then but he can remember the details clearly.

It comes to him a series of images. Orange-yellow light that fell over your face, hairs sticking a little your head, trembling hands, ricocheting heartbeats, the sound of cars passing. He wasn’t very confident then, it makes him laugh thinking back at. But he told you anyways, bursting at the seams with his feelings.

“I like you!”

Your first reaction was shock immediately followed with a somber smile. Though he told you he had liked you, it was in the brief moment afterwards that he though there was more to it than that. He wouldn’t call it a rejection, but a wake-up call. You leaned in to kiss his cheek before whispering something back.

“If you mean it,” ― you whisper, hand on his shoulder and eyes heavy ― “Tell me again later,”

With that, you turned on your heel and went home. He wasn’t sure how to feel for a while, because it’s not like you said no. And you kissed him so that had to mean something.

Rather predictably after that, he became so caught up in hero work, it was only natural that you two grew distant. Once frequent conversations became words in passing, spoken quietly to each other. He went off to become a great hero, and you went off to study what you love.

It was a natural occurrence - he knows this now. He wonders what kind of thinking you had to have been doing to know that at 15. The older he got, the more he thought about what you said. How the once vague mention of “later” became a narrow time-frame. Not a moment too soon and not a second too later.

Izuku Midoriya has loved you all of 8 years. For most of them, it’s been a passive yearning. The emptiness of his bedframe and his disinterest. 8 years and he’s tried and failed to love other people. Maybe he was testing if later would ever come.

He’s 22 and he thinks to himself that he’s been chasing the feeling of loving you this whole time. That adrenaline from when you kissed his cheek all those years ago, he wonders to himself if it’s still there

He’ll have to go find out

After a night-out, you are unfortunately sober on the walk home. Work dinners should have a general policy for how much someone can drink, you think. Maybe then you wouldn’t have had to shovel your boss into a taxi and remain regrettably conscious through a series of uncomfortable or agitating questions.

It wasn’t like he was invasive but he was.. annoying? And the fact you couldn’t sit through it by downing half a bottle of wine was a real shame . You’re so stone cold sober that your body shivers in the night air. Heels clacking against the pavement, eyes heavy and exhausted. You could endure it, you were finally going home after all.

You’d take a warm bath and hit the hay. Your body yearned for your bed and you don’t blame it. You sigh to yourself, hands in coat pockets.

“Just a little bit more,” ― you sigh, yawning and wiping your eyes ― “A little more and I’ll be...home?”

You were home, the front door to your building. There was an ominous looking figure sitting on the front steps. Your first reaction was to reach into your pockets and grab your keys between your knuckles. Your heart stuttered as you broached slowly. It was too dark to see clearly but maybe he was nice.

“Uhm.. excuse me, sir”

When he turns his head - your first reaction is to flinch. You step back as he turns his head only to grow stiff. A pair of warm green eyes and head of forest green locks await seems to be staring back at you. He gives you a warm smile - standing on his feet.

In a way, he’s unrecognizable to you. Though you see him all the time, Pro-Hero Deku making news, the image of him in your head is permanently small and frail. In front of you now, he’s grown up to be so big. A whole head taller than you and broad. He’s lean but clearly muscular. Intimidating in a sense.

“Ah, you’re home,” ― he says, non-chalant. You’re trying to recall the last time you spoke to him, the last time you’d even seen him. Maybe a year ago now? ― “I wanted to talk to you,”

Your first though is to ask questions. You had so many of them though, you’re not sure where to start. You want to ask how he’s been, and how did he find you, and how’s work going. You want to ask why he’s here after all this time and if following his dreams has made him happy how he hoped. You want to ask if he remember what he said to you at 15 - wondering if he still gets caught up on it like you do.

None of your words seem to string together right so you just shake your head a little, managing your disbelief.

“About what?” you ask. He pauses for a second, rubbing his chin before smiling at you.

“It’s later,”

Your eyes widen as he steps out of the way, using his hands to gesture towards your apartment. You blink at him but his smile is as cheeky as ever. Teasing and unusually handsome. You flush down to your neck before nodding.

“Oh, uhm.. right. Okay,”― you say, walking towards your complex doors ― “C-come on in,”

“You can uh.. take your shoes off at the door,” ― you say, after taking your own heels off and rushing to the kitchen ― “The green slippers should fit you,”

He nods as he watches you disappear to the kitchen. He takes in your apartment with a soft smile. Photos of you with your friends and family litter the entrance way. It’s filled with a soft yellow light, cozy like he’d expect. From below him, he hears a soft purr

A beige cat walks around his legs, observing him quietly before nuzzling against his thigh. His smile grows wide as he squats down and holds his hand for the kitty, waiting for it to approve of him before reaching and petting him. The cat is quick to the jump into his forearms.

“Who’s this?”

He ducks as he enters into the main area of your apartment. Your eyes widen as your usually stand-offish cat nuzzles comfortably in your childhood friends chest.

“His name is Creampuff,” ― you say, mildly stunned ― “He’s two,”

“What a good boy,”

Your heart races as you see him. After all this time, his presence still gives you those nervous butterflies. Maybe it’s because he’s become so attractive. Broader and taller but more rugged to look at.You feel like the floor might swallow you up.

“I’ll.. put on some tea,”

You take off your coat but you’re still in your work clothes. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he’s staring at you. You’re too afraid to look behind you and see, confirm but his gaze is so heavy you’re almost certain. He traces the outline of your body and back with his eyes.

He can’t help but think you’ve filled out some. Even from behind - you look awfully pretty. You look disheveled and sleepy like you did back in highschool, after cramming for exams. A little older now with that same cute expression on your face. It’s hard to hold back or tear himself from you - so he doesn’t try. He just watches as you pour the tea into mugs and let it steep. Minutes pass and it’s quiet but not as uncomfortable as you’d expect.

You return to your kitchen table with two mugs, setting his down on a coaster.

“Careful.. it’s hot,”

He nods, taking the mug in his hands and blowing on it before taking a sip. He hums.

“Ah.. it’s good. Thank you,”

A silence settle between you briefly. Your heart is in your throat, hands trembling a little on the table. When he notices, he reaches for them. This is another of his habits, you think. Comforting people must be second nature to him, but it only makes you more nervous.

“So.. how’ve you been?”

It’s the only thing you can think to ask. He studies your expression for a while. It used to the opposite of this. He used to be the nervous one, stuttery and unsure. You were always confident and steady - he’s sure you still are. This side of you is endearing though. He chuckles.

“I’ve been good. Work is hectic but that’s always,” ― and you’re going to ask him another question. Dodge what he’s really here for, but he cuts you off ― “I’ve missed you though, so I came to visit,”

You can feel it. This tension that presses against your back and makes you sit straight. He has that determined look in his eyes, easily recognizable when you watch him. In interviews and during fights and everything in between - like he knows what he’s going up against. To have it directed at you is so nerve-wracking, you find yourself doling under the pressure of his gaze.

You fidget, voice shaking like a leaf in the wind. He was always too much for to you handle.

“O-oh?,”

He nods, taking your hand in his. He holds it to his lips, kisses your knuckles like it’s the easiest thing in the world. You wonder where he learned to act like this. He’s different but the same. It’s too much for you so you shut your eyes.

He stands until he’s on your side of the table. Rests on the corners edge with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks at you with fondness, an unmistakable affection. After all these years, it’s only grown. Double and tripled in size. No matter how much he would try and punch it down, it never deflates.

He thinks loving you is an act of heroism. The only way he could ever really save himself. 8 years and it feels like you’re old friends. Nothing unnatural or wholly uncomfortable. It’s strange.

“I thought about what you said. About telling you later. This time though,” ― he drops to the floor, crouched between your legs so slightly. He does it to look straight at you ― “This time though, I have to tell you properly so you can’t make me wait again,”

“I wasn’t making you wait,” you insist. He takes your hand in his and you unravel, body slumped. He kisses the palms of your hands, the inside of your wrist and it feels like gravity has no mercy on you.

“It felt like hell,” ― he tells you ― “I can’t sit still anymore so I’m telling you now. Even if you want to run away, I can’t let you,”

You frown, heart rapid.

“That’s not very heroic,”

He smiles.

“Good. I don’t wanna be your hero. I just want to love you selfishly as Izuku and not Deku,” ― he says, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles ― “So tell me you love me back and grant my wish. I waited all this time,”

You’re stunned into silence at his request. Eyes feeling especially water as he leans into you. It doesn’t make sense but it feels right. Your heart is beating - like you can feel all the blood pumping in you and your head feels light.

“You say it so easily,”

He laughs. It’s bright just like how you remember.

“How could you know after all this time? How could you be sure?”

He shrugs. You hit his shoulder at the nonchalance but he only chuckles. He leans in closer to you, inches away from your face.

“I waited for you all this time. Shouldn’t you give me a chance to show you?”

You sniffle as his hands cup your cheeks. His smile is so inviting, how could you refuse him?

“I’d like to kiss you,” ― he pauses, shaking his head ― “I want to show you. Let me,”

You nod as he leans into you. His lips are pillow and soft - touch addicting. You give into him so easily, tongue tied. He keeps you close, hand at the base of your neck. It feels so good, so perfect. You believe him when he kisses you like this With secrets under his tongue, between his teeth.

“Tell me your answer,” ― he demands, soft but stern ― “You didn’t before. I need to hear it,”

You give him an exasperated laugh.

“I love you.. obviously”

Right. Obviously indeed.

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#deku x reader #bnha x reader #writing tag #deku x you #deku x y/n #bnha x you #bnha x y/n

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miraculouscontent · 3 years ago

Note

After reading that, I think it's safe to say that Miraculous Ladybug is more of a horror/psychological thriller than romance/comedy. And now I want an AU where Marinette takes the earrings off and realizes that they're messing with head

Marinette felt strange, and after getting used to the feeling of being on the Startrain, she knew it wasn't the cause. She felt lighter - less restricted - somehow, and while a part of her had expected that due to handing off the ladybug miraculous, it wasn't in the way she'd expected.

Once she was done sending Alya all the Ladybug tips, Marinette had figured they'd start talking about Adrien or what their next scheme would be once she got back, but she ended up finding the idea tiring. It was odd in the way that finding something in her room just slightly out of place would be (at least before the kwami began living there).

Everything she'd thought she might feel - anxiety over what could go wrong while she was gone, concern over how the kwami were doing in her absence, and longing for who she'd pictured as the love of her life - wasn't there. It felt completely unlike her, just as it felt unlike Alya to not reply to her messages considering how much she liked to be on her phone.

Abandoning the idea of texting Alya for now, she closed their conversation and idly started browsing her phone. Even still, the weird feeling didn't cease and her hero senses were going off.

Something was wrong, or... maybe right? It wasn't as if she was feeling anything bad, but she felt entirely different than when she was in Paris. It was hard to get a gauge on exactly how she should take it.

Marinette glanced at her parents, catching herself frowning before they could glance back. She looked at her phone, acting like nothing was wrong and idly scrolling through her various apps so as to look busy. In the process, she stumbled upon her gallery, finding her mass of Adrien images inside. It took up a majority of her pictures, and she found herself blushing in embarrassment rather than fondness.

Did she really have this many normally? How much time had she taken getting them?

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, thrown off by just how different she felt. The reaction to seeing Adrien that she'd normally have where she'd lose all focus had virtually disappeared, and the only reason she'd missed it at all was because it gave her an absurd amount of mental clarity concerning how she'd be acting otherwise.

Clarity...

The word brought a particular face to her mind: pink lips, blue eyes, and black hair highlighted blue at the tips. Marinette ran her fingers through her own hair, ruffling it as she tried to piece out how she was feeling. All she knew was that - whatever it was - it was significant and she didn't have Tikki to vent to.

Though perhaps she wouldn’t had much to provide anyway.

A mix of trepidation and curiosity filling her. Switching away from her gallery, she went back to her conversations and pulled up her texts with Luka. Despite her confusion over whatever was happening to her at the moment, she managed a smile at Luka's contact image staring fondly at her.

After a moment of consideration, she typed out:

Hey. Sorry if you're busy. Thought we could talk?

That done, she navigated back to her gallery to look at all her Adrien pictures. She shifted in her seat again, as if it would change things or help her mind adjust to the unfamiliar sensation. It wasn't like looking at Adrien didn't make her feel anything at all, but that feeling could only be described as "normal," like the way she saw him before he'd given her that umbrella.

Before she officially became a ladybug holder who agreed to protect the people of Paris...

Her lips twitched in hesitant thought, her thumb brushing against her screen as she skimmed through the assortment of Adrien pictures. Her brain registered a feeling - or rather, lack thereof - and the foreign emotions encouraged her to act.

She tapped the garbage can icon experimentally, a notification popping up accordingly and asking her if she'd like to delete the picture. She brought the phone closer to her chest, like she felt she was doing something wrong, yet there was only a second of pause before she confirmed the decision.

She watched as Adrien disappeared, a message indicating that the picture had been trashed.

Marinette blinked at the message until it had timed out, bringing her back to the gallery. She was frozen in place, her fingers twitching against the side of the phone as she processed what she'd just done.

Then, she did it again. She tapped on another picture of Adrien, a weird mix of eagerness and interest urging her thumb along as she pressed the garbage can icon again, confirming the decision just as quickly.

Just before the image disappeared, a stray thought said aloud in her mind: black hair and blue eyes would've worked better for an outfit like that.

This time, her body finally moved, a shudder going up her spine as she took in a breath. Her eyes darted over to her parents, knowing how strange this must look to them, but they weren't watching her anyway, meaning the moment was kept firmly in her own personal bubble. It was so odd; normally, someone would've seen her acting off, or laughed and made muttering comments about it.

But nothing was happening, and she didn't know whether to question it or not.

Marinette glanced back at her phone, almost challenging herself as she started to run through the assorted Adrien pictures. She could've thrown them in the metaphorical bin all at once, but instead, she went one-by-one. She waited for something to break, either a sense of regret to settle in over the deletion or for her heart to start fawning over the face on screen, but neither happened.

She was in control, and it felt good. Really, really good.

Part of her felt like she was being ridiculous. The idea of getting some kind of emotional high out of deleting a few pictures sounded stupid, and yet she felt powerful. It was like a veil had been lifted and suddenly she had choices.

If her parents saw her visibly vibrating in her seat, she didn't hear them make mention of it.

The only thing that made her snap out of her rapid thumb movements was a text notification at the top of her screen, and only due to the flash of black, blue, and white. Her lips curved into a smile, originally being pressed together in focus, and she clicked to open her text messages with Luka.

Hey, Marinette. I'm not busy at all. What's up?

She felt warm, knowing that the guy who always made her feel comfortable and happy was on the other line. it was such a shame that they hadn't been able to work it out because of Adrien.

Marinette paused just as she went to reply, those thoughts catching up to her as she remembered that day with Luka underneath the bridge. She'd been so sure that she'd had to break up with him because of Adrien, but as she purposefully tried to recall the memory, something registered like a mental fog clearing in her mind.

Hadn't it actually been her responsibilities as Ladybug that had done it? In fact, that added up alongside all of the other memories of his akumatization; she hadn't been ditching him during their dates out of discomfort or her crush on Adrien, but because of akuma and sentimonsters.

How could she have forgotten? Or rather, how could she have remembered otherwise?

Marinette just barely managed to snap herself out of her trance, her phone having dimmed from inactivity and the sight of her furrowed brows and worried frown staring back at her from the blackened screen. She blinked rapidly, then shook her head to clear herself of the unnerving thoughts.

Lighting her phone back up, she hurriedly typed back as she realized she'd left Luka on read, trying to ignore the way her thumbs shook.

Nothing much.

She hesitated, already seeing him typing back. Guilt burrowed around in her stomach, knowing very well that it was not "nothing" but being unable to properly convey what was going on to him when she didn't even understand it herself.

She typed again, his own typing ceasing to let her add to her comment.

Actually, I've been thinking a bit lately. I'm going to be in London for a while and I'm on the train ride there right now. It's given me some time to myself and it's... weird.

I'm sorry, I know that doesn't make sense.

Even though he hadn't replied, she knew he was taking her seriously as he was typing back.

It makes sense. Background music doesn't work for everyone.

Marinette realized that her shoulders had been tense when they relaxed at his message. She pressed her lips together, feeling vaguely like she didn't deserve him and pushing down the thoughts just as quickly. He'd never approve of that kind of talk.

My head's just been a bit of a mess. Or... not a mess? Things were really foggy but I didn't realize that they were? It's like I'm thinking clearer but I don't know if I like everything that came with that.

What was the phrase? Ignorance is bliss? She had no idea where these changes were coming from, but something had indeed changed and she didn't know the significance of it. She was indeed happy that she felt so in control now over her thoughts on Adrien, but why now? What caused it, and what about her memories?

Would it go away?

Marinette shuddered at the idea, but tried to focus on her conversation with Luka. Having a crisis wasn't going to do her any good, and he was there with her, even if only through text.

I can't know what you're going through, but I think I get it.

You do?

Yeah. Do you remember my birthday, when everyone heard about my dad being Jagged Stone?

He already continued typing, so she just nodded even if he couldn't see it. She'd only been with Juleka when the reveal had happened, but she imagined it'd been just as much of a shock for her as it'd been for them. She couldn't even imagine when Luka could've learned about it.

Wait--no, she'd already known, actually, hadn't she? He'd been akumatized and had gone after Jagged, and she'd been there when he forced Jagged to tell him the truth about being his father.

Marinette winced at the filling of a gap in her memory that she hadn't realized had been there. Once again, she'd remembered something that she couldn't fathom having forgotten or misremembered, even with how spotty her memory could be under normal circumstances.

She turned towards the back of her seat and the window, trying to isolate herself so it felt like just her, her phone, and Luka. She desperately needed his texts as a distraction.

I'd wanted to know who my dad was for so long, but learning that it was my favorite musician all this time was a lot. I had to redo all the notes I’ve ever written about him, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it for a while.

He kept typing after that, and she merely stroked the side of the phone with her thumb as some form of support, even knowing that he couldn't know about it.

But I'm glad I knew in the end. He's doing his best to make up for all the lost time, and I don't have to go on never knowing what that song would've sounded like.

Their situations weren't exactly the same, but it was enough to reach her deep down. Whatever her situation was, if it really did mean something, she'd rather know it was there than go on never knowing. She hated the idea of being left in the dark, just as she hated being lied to.

As she took a calming breath, she found it in herself to type back.

I'm glad you know too. You deserve people who make you happy, Luka.

Thank you, Marinette. You do too, and I hope that whatever you're going through goes at least as well as it did for me.

Thanks.

She bit her lower lip at her reply, which felt clipped in tone even though she hadn't meant it that way. She just had too much on her mind and it was hard to think about what emotion was coming across when she was typing to him.

She tapped away at the on-screen keyboard, hopefully before he could think anything in particular about it.

Sorry.

Though she wanted to explain further, she wavered, her legs bending as she curled further in on herself. The conversation had already been so deep and she didn't want to make it worse.

But just as she debated on dismissing her feelings and insisting that he not worry about her, the memories that had been cleared up from before came back to her, reminding her of a warm hug on top of a bridge.

"When you're ready, I'll be here, Marinette."

She inhaled shakily, but steadied herself immediately afterwards, letting the warmth of the words calm her. Luka was there for her and she trusted him.

She was ready.

...I'm scared, Luka. I thought I had my clarity, but I don't. Something's wrong.

Then, almost on cue, the train screeched to a halt, jostling her out of her seat as the lights went off. The simultaneous sound of phones ringing followed soon after.

—————

Marinette held her breath, crouched down in the restroom while she listened closely for the sound of her parents' footsteps. Her throat let out a whine, but she managed to keep it silent enough to where she was sure that no one on the other side of the door would hear it. She'd have to leave eventually or risk being cornered, courtesy of the power being off and the restroom's lock being electronic, but she felt safe enough to pull out her phone.

She also set it on vibrate just in case.

There was a reasonable concern at first that Luka's texts would indicate that he'd fallen victim to the akuma, but what she found when she checked their conversation reassured her.

Marinette!

Is everything okay?

Did the akuma's power reach you? Did they call you too?

Marinette?

The panic in simple letters on a screen made her feel noticed and loved. Keeping enough of her focus on potential footsteps approaching outside the door, she typed out a reply:

Sorry. I had to run from my parents.

I'm okay. What about you?

You're alright. I'm so glad.

I'm okay too. I hid somewhere and I doubt anyone can find me.

That's good. Be careful.

You too.

She took another breath, certain she'd be captured soon if the akuma wasn't taken care of. The train was limited and there weren't many places to go, so unless she could find a blunt object to smash her parents' phones, she was at a loss.

Regardless, Luka was there, her phone vibrating as he added onto his previous text:

I know this isn't the time, and I hate that the akuma cut into the song we were writing, but I'm here for you, Marinette. Whatever's going on, I'll help you figure it out as long as you want me with you.

Her heart fluttered pleasantly, a pink blush even tinting her cheeks. She welcomed it, unlike the fear that'd come with the changed memories. Feeling the way she did for Luka was too natural to be afraid in any way.

Thank you, so much. You're the only one I could trust with something like this.

She meant it. She'd trusted Alya with her identity in a moment of weakness, and even passed the ladybug earrings to her, yet that somehow paled in comparison to the emotions she was choosing to share. Luka would take her seriously, she was sure, even if she came up with the craziest theory in the world for why her feelings and memories were the way they were. He wouldn't doubt her, or laugh, or dismiss her as "Marinette being Marinette."

And as she sat there, completely without a miraculous or any way to get back to Paris without help, she reached up with her free hand and tugged at her earlobe, processing what she could with the information she had as one such theory started to form in her head. The fear from before never quite went away, but the idea of figuring things out with Luka brought her a sense of comfort.

Though perhaps, when she got back to Paris, she would take back her miraculous with a sense of hesitance that she hadn't had before, and there would be some testing that followed after the fact, because there were two things she refused to give up from her experience on the train.

Her sense of freedom and choice, and the feelings for Luka that she can't believe she ever questioned.

Or, if her working theory was correct, that her miraculous had her question.

#MC's Writing #writing: story #Pro LukaMari #Lukanette #category: salt #episode: Hack San #other: ask and answer #((tbh depending on how much Marinette explains it to him))#((poor boi's gonna have one hell of a revelation in ''Wishmaker''))#((suddenly the Adrien crush influence she explained is gonna make sense))#((and he feels bad for ever supporting it even if he had no way of knowing.))

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tsumune · 3 years ago

Text

haikyuu boys get glasses

features: atsumu, osamu

tags: fluff, ᵖᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˢˡⁱᵍʰᵗᵉˢᵗ ᵃⁿᵍˢᵗ

a/n: atsumu’s part is inspired by @/zan_miya’s art on ig!

miya atsumu

atsumu is stubborn

he often stays up watching volleyball matches on his phone in the dark

you and osamu have both warned him about his habits before, but he just brushes it off

finally, it’s time for his yearly eye checkup

“this isn’t fair! why doesn’t ‘samu need glasses too!” atsumu complains while seated in the black leather chair of the optometrist’s office.

“because i don’t spend all day and night glued to my phone watching volleyball matches,” osamu replies with an exasperated side eye to his brother.

atsumu groans and slumps further down his chair. the optometrist, bless him for putting up with the miya twins, tells him he can go and pick out a pair of glasses when he’s ready.

“help me pick a good pair, ‘samu.”

osamu snickers to himself as he picks out the tackiest pair he can find: thick, bright orange frames.

“wow, these aren’t bad,” atsumu says as he takes and examines them. osamu is about to shoot his brother a disgusted look when atsumu whacks him over the head.

“take this seriously! this has to fit well with my public image. i’ll treat ya to a meal if you find a better pair than me.”

of course atsumu finds a way to make this into a competition, but osamu knows he’s just as competitive and they begin searching the racks in earnest. finally, osamu comes across a pair that are genuinely pretty good.

“those don’t look half bad on ya, ‘tsumu.”

“really? then ya should wear a pair with me!”

“no.”

“aw come on-“ osamu walks off in the middle of atsumu’s unconvincing whining and starts heading for the front desk, atsumu trailing behind dejectedly.

“babe! what’s taking you so long to get ready?” you call out to your boyfriend in the bathroom. atsumu gives a muffled “i’ll be done soon!”, but he doesn’t move just yet. he stares at his reflection, black frames sitting comfortably on his face. atsumu has always cared about his appearance, so while he doesn’t love the idea of having to wear something he didn’t choose to willingly, he admits the pair osamu chose isn’t all that bad. now he’s just worried about whether you’ll like it or not. he thinks the glasses make him look more dorky. are you into that? well, only one way to find. atsumu gives one last sigh and lightly slaps both sides of his cheeks.

“took you long enoug-“ your words are cut off as you stare at the blonde in front of you, eyes shyly cast downward and a faint pink blush dusting his cheeks. neither of you move nor speak for what seems like minutes. atsumu shifts uncomfortably in his spot, too intimidated by the silence to look for your reaction. but he can feel your stare boring into him, and it withers his confidence more and more, until eventually he can’t stand it anymore.

“does it look that bad!”

“you look so adorable!”

the two of you yell at each other at the same time, and are both taken aback by the other’s exclamation.

“you think so?”

“what, why would it look bad!”

atsumu’s blush deepens as you suddenly move up flush against him, your head tilted up to look into his eyes.

“‘tsumu, you really look so cute, they suit you so much.”

no way. how can you be so cute and sincere while saying that? atsumu feels like he can melt into a puddle, but he doesn’t want to let you realize your effect on him, so he feigns confidence.

“yeah, i knew they’d look good on me.”

you snicker softly at your boyfriend’s pride, and pretend as if you didn’t just hear his insecure words or see his clearly nervous stance as he waited for your approval. you grin.

“well then, why don’t we go see a movie after dinner tonight? you’ll actually be able to see the screen this time.” you tease.

“hey, i could see the screen perfectly fine last time.”

“really? then tell me, what was the demon slayer movie about?”

“...a slayer...slaying demons.”

“you were blind as a bat.”

miya osamu

osamu is often staring at bills and budgets all day for his restaurant

you have a feeling his eyesight is worsening because he always asks you for help finding things

he wonders where his calculator is when it’s right next to him, or drops a pen and loses it forever

one time as you walked towards the meeting place for a date he didn’t wave until you were a few feet away from him because he didn’t recognize you

so you finally force him to go to the eye doctor and he gets a pair of glasses

“hey osamu- woah.” a regular enters onigiri miya and is stunned for a few moments as he looks at the shop owner.

osamu glances up at him and smiles. “the regular?”

“yeah. when’d you get glasses? it doesn’t really suit you,” the customer says as he sits himself down. osamu furrows his brows but decides to brush off the comment.

“just a few days ago, i’ve been having vision problems for a while.” the customer hums in response and osamu gets to work on his order.

for the rest of the day, more regulars filter in and out, some seeing osamu since he got his new glasses for the first time. some of them make comments, such as ‘well that’s new’ or ‘you look different’, and osamu can’t help but think on the negative side. sure, they probably didn’t mean anything bad, and osamu didn’t think he’d be one to care so much about others’ opinions, but for some reason they got to him more than usual. he stares at his reflection in the bathroom mirror on his break, and slowly removes his glasses.

that night, you hear yelling from osamu’s home office again.

“y/n, have you seen my calculator?”

that’s a question you haven’t heard in a while. you walk in to find osamu bent under his desk, looking around and feeling the ground. when he comes back up, you realize why he couldn’t find it.

“baby, why did you take your glasses off?”

“they were giving me a headache. just help me find my calculator,” osamu says quickly, but you don’t buy his lie. the glasses fit perfectly fine before, and he even mused about how it’s amazing he can see every little detail now (he pointed out a pimple on your face and you wanted to smack him).

“no. i’m not helping you until you tell me why you took your glasses off. or you can just put them back on and find it yourself.”

osamu sighs in defeat, and a small pout paints his face.

“some of the regulars said they don’t suit me...”

you stare at osamu, and then spot his glasses on the table beside him. you pick them up and slowly slip them over his eyes.

osamu looks up at you like a hurt puppy, and you feel your heart melt.

“don’t listen to them. you’re the prettiest boy in the world, glasses or not.” you place small kisses all over osamu’s face, watching as his expression brightens. he laughs when you don’t stop, complaining that it tickles, and you take in osamu’s face, the way his smile lifts his cheekbones and his eyes twinkle in laughter.

“there’s my pretty boy,” you say solemnly, hand patting osamu’s head. before he can react, you pull out your phone and take a picture, turning it around to show him. you zoom into his face and point out everything you love about it while osamu feigns protest.

“i love the way your lips sit in a small cute pout, but curl up when you’re happy. i love your nose, and how it scrunches up when you get cold. i love your well-kempt eyebrows, and how you pretend you hate me plucking them but you really love it,” osamu shakes his head playfully, but a smile is playing on his lips as he pulls you down to sit on his lap.

“but most of all, i love your eyes. i love how i can clearly see them through your glasses, how the silver frames highlight their colour even more, and how i know that you can clearly see the world and all it has to offer through them too. i hope you can see how truly beautiful you are.”

osamu stares into your eyes and feels like he’s drowning in their sincerity. he can feel tears threaten to come up, and he blinks quickly to get rid of them. looking at the picture of himself on your phone, he decides he does look pretty good.

“ah, i found my calculator,” he says as he reaches behind you. “thanks for helping me,” his eyes shift to the side, and you understand what he means.

“anytime,” you reply with another kiss to his cheek.

#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #miya atsumu x reader #miya osamu x reader #i know atsumu wouldn't need subs for the demon slayer movie just pretend:p

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yourubersawcrit · 1 year ago

Text

Alright! The story starts as this. A month ago, right when my TF2 brainrot was just beginning, I decided to show them the videos just in case they wanted to play with us —and you know, choose a class to main—.

I thought to myself “It'll be fine, there's not much violence and blood. It's just silly heehee!”. While my sibling was nodding and sitting at the table.

Unfortunately, I forgot that my perspective on the subject has been corrupted long time ago, and my mother didn't liked gore at all.

To add, my parents don't know much English, so I tried to translate what we all said that day ^^"

Meet the Heavy: Not much of a reaction from both, especially since the lack of subtitles.

Mother: “I don't understand, should we know something beforehand?”

Me: “Ah YES! I totally forgot, my apologies.” [proceeds to infodump as little as they can as they shake]

Meet the Sniper: Both liked him and found him interesting :] /positive

Father: “Ah so he's a Sniper- is that piss? In a jar?”

Me: “Yes it is. He does it since he consumed some pills and now pees a lot.”

Father: “...”

Me: “Yeap, that's TF2 for ya.”

Meet the Engineer: They were mostly silent to enjoy the music.

Me: “He's pretty cool, I want to main him.”

Father: “Huuuh.” [approves]

Meet the Scout: Not gonna lie, both liked him until Scout decided to hurt Heavy and steal the Sandwich.

Mother: “He runs very fast. He does that in the game?”

Me: “Um, yeah. This is just a dramatization for the sake of the video.”

Meet the Demoman: Very well liked! The explosion at the end wasn't well received for my mother... Oh dear.

Mother: “Hahah.”

Father: “He looks fun.”

Meet the Soldier: Entertaining, badass even.

[Soldier hits Spy]

Both: “Uffff...”

Meet the Spy: Ok so this was super fun for them, laughed a lot with it!

[Scout's ma's pictures are shown]

Both: [look at them] [look at me with the “For real?” stare /lh]

Me: “Heeeey.” [shrugs]

[...]

Father: “That Spy has blood all over him, so he (Soldier) is kinda right, that's a RED (Spy).”

Meet the Medic: It could be better described with images ( 0—0 )

Thankfully, this video had the subtitles enabled! So they could understand everything, for better or worse.

[intro card plays]

Father: [looks at Medic having blood on his hands and laughing with Heavy] “Is that the character you play as?”

Me: [thinking] “Oh god. I have made a mistake, a horrible one. They know he's my main, THEY KNOW. And now with the subtitles, they'll realize how "silly" he is and connect the dots towards my own silliness. AAAAAAH!!”

Me: “Yeah :]”

[...]

[Heavy's heart explodes]

Mother: “WAOH!” [covers mouth] [looks at Archimides get thrown away by the bits] “Pffft-”

[...]

[Heavy screams while Medic tries to insert the ÜberCharged heart]

Them:

Meet the Pyro: They enjoyed it!

[Pyro kills everyone]

Me: “That's my sibling's main by the way.”

Sibling: “HEY!”

And that's how it went! Heheh :D

Hey chat, do you wanna know about that time I showed my parents the Meet the Team videos? :]

#neos thoughts #When he asked if he was my main I felt the world collapsing kddkslsl

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amphxtrite · 4 years ago

Text

cedric diggory x fem!reader

part two: Dreamiest Boy in School.

warnings: smut, shower sex, swearing, oral (female receiving), masturbation.

If you are not comfortable please do not read.

summary: Cedric’s been in love with you for years. What will he do when he catches the reader moaning his name after a quidditch game in the prefect’s bathroom. Fluff at the end.

a/n: characters are 18+ and it is fully consensual.

word count: 4.2k

enjoy<3

__________________________________________

Cedric first met you in his fifth year when he’d first been appointed captain of the hufflepuff team, it was your first time trying out despite also being in your fifth, but it was no secret that it wasn’t your first time on the pitch. You were a natural, blocking quaffles with ease, letting none enter the goal. Your movements were smooth, elegant, but forceful, effectively getting the job done, but truly showing off the art of flying. Cedric had to forcibly pinch himself after you touched down.

Today was a rough game against gryffindor, It went on much longer than it needed to with Ms. Pink Toad calling random people from the pitch and ‘hem hemming’ every time someone managed to score a goal. When Cedric had eventually caught the snitch, he had to deal with a ten minute long speech from Umbridge speaking of his bravery and strength, he cut it short after she began to run her hands over his face.

Now came Cedric’s favourite part of the game, his friends had already congratulated him on the win, but he was close by you and your friends as you touched down from the goal post. You were distributing high-fives to everyone, even throwing Cedric a quick thumbs up before running to your gym bag and taking a long sip from your water bottle. Here it comes, your pupils glance from side to side, scanning the area before grabbing the hem of your jersey to dab at the sweat running down your face. No one on the team cared you did this, but you still felt weird randomly pulling your jersey up to clean off your face. You did this after every practice and game, and although he didn’t mean to intrude Cedric found himself gazing at you often.

Cedric takes his bottom lip into his teeth as he looks to the grass beneath him, his thoughts running wild. He pictures what it would be like if he was the one pulling at your shirt, slowly pushing it up your gorgeous body as you beg him to take it off, rolling your hips desperately against his. The seeker’s pants were starting to get a little more constricting at the thought.

Ever since his first time seeing you at the pitch, he’d find himself thinking of you this way a lot. His name spilling from your lips, mouth agape, legs quivering. It kept him awake often, thinking about you. Imagining the feeling of your lips pressed to his as he rocked his hips in and out of you. He didn’t appreciate the sinful thoughts encasing his mind every time he saw you, it drove him insane. Any time you licked your lips, shook out your hair, smirked or even simply laughed, he’d have to excuse himself to rid of the heat from his face.

It was even worse the two of you had become close friends in the last two years, you were the person to help and train him for the triwizard tournament, working out with him often and supporting him through his challenges, also being his unofficial ‘date’ to the ball. You pushed him well, preparing him for the physical challenges that lay ahead in the contest, but only having his crush grow as you worked by his side and hugged him good luck. After he won, you were one of the first people he went to after his father. You had jumped into his arms and held him tight as he recounted the story of how Voldemort had stunned him and Harry had saved his life. Upon finishing the story, you had kissed him on the cheek and whispered.

“I’m so glad you’re okay. I don’t know what I’d do if you were gone.”

He knew then that he was never going to let you go.

Cedric did his best to put your friendship first, reminding himself of your platonic status and your great history. He couldn’t jeopardize it all, even if he fancied you. Running himself a cold shower after stripping down his robes in the prefect’s bathroom, he tries to place his thoughts in a different headspace. He ignores his surroundings as he tries to rid himself of the dirty images, letting the cold water stream onto his face. It was practically useless, his mind drifted back to your lips pulled between your teeth or how your lips felt against his cheek after each hit of cold water. With one small thought, his arousal and need grows.

Sighing quietly and shutting the tap off, the hufflepuff head boy wraps a towel around his waist as he picks up his bag to begin getting changed. Halfway to zip open his bag, he can hear a shaky voice calling, not to far away.

“Oh f-fuck Ced.”

Body immediately going rigid, the wide-eyed boy regains his train of thought and remembering where he is, glancing around the showers. The voice was so familiar, close.

So... dream-like. Sifting through his memories to match the voice, he thinks of people close to him that were also prefects or head girls, the only person to came to mind was you, but that was impossible. What were you doing saying his name so beautifully.

“Faster, please.” The voice rang out again in a softer mewl. The brunette’s cheeks light on fire as the voice finally registers in his ears, no doubt it was your soft cry. Despite his better judgment, Cedric needed to check this out. To make sure he wasn’t just imagining your voice begging for him.

As he approaches the shower he hears the voice from, he can hear a heavy pant and a shower getting louder. Standing before the closed curtain. His hand hovering over top the thin material, he mentally debates this, perhaps he was wrong. He might’ve misheard, and the he’d be barging in on a random girl. Pulling his hand away he turn to leave, but another moan perks his attention.

“F-fuck Cedric, I-I’m gonna c-cum.” A quivering whimper, cries his name again.

He’d heard you say his name about a million times, cheering him on, talking to him, laughing out his name. That was you inside, about to cum to his image.

Not able to take it anymore and he rips open the shower curtain, his cock springing up under the towel and pure desire taking over his senses. There you were, damp hair streaming down your shoulders, leaning against a wall with one hand on your breast and the other deep between your legs, pushing in and out at a rapid pace, practically sobbing for release.

“Are you masturbating?”

You barely register the soft question, but as your eyes open they instantly flash with horror and you immediately pull your hands away from your body, meeting gazes with a wide-eyed Cedric. A flood of embarrassment consumes you, he must have heard you. Merlin, you felt disgusting.

“Oh my gosh Cedric I’m so sorry!” You apologize frantically, rushing to grab your towel and cover yourself as tears of self-consciousness begin to well in your eyes. “I didn’t- I’m so sorry.” You try and push him out of your way, but Cedric will not let you pass, his grey eyes still staring holes into you. Agonizing seconds pass as he simply looks you down, your head swiveling around to look anywhere but his stoic gaze.

Finally smirks in amusement, Cedric reaches over and takes your chin in between his fingers, forcing your head up to meet his eyes, you ready yourself for a lecture, or maybe screams, but it doesn’t come.

“I like the way you said my name.” Cedric teases, pushing you back into the running shower.

“Hands between your thighs and on your breast, were you thinking about this?” Cedric purrs, pushing you against the smooth wall and pressing his chest against yours, slowly rocking his hard on against your sensitive clit with the rough towel around his waist.

“Imagining me taking you in the shower, fucking you against the wall and whispering dirty thoughts into your ear?” He continues in a low voice, continuing the gentle rock of his hips.

Your mouth drops open at Cedric’s reaction and the waves of pleasure clouding your senses. “Answer me.” Cedric growls, pushing harder against you and encasing you in his arms, his elbows by your head and his forearms against the wall. “Y-yes, I-I was.” your soft voice breathes out. “Yes, who?” Cedric grins, his eyes growing dark with lust as he watches you writhe beneath him. “Yes Cedric.” You moan as the toned hufflepuff continues to roll his hips slowly, an approving smirk spreading on his lips.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wished to do this love.” Cedric begins to nip at your neck, sucking and kissing around until he finds the spot that makes your breath hitch. You bite your lip to suppress the upcoming moan.

“Stop.” Cedric’s needy voice growls at you. “The only one who’ll be biting those lips is me.” He states, desire lacing every word.

Roughly pushing his lips against yours in a heated kiss, his warm tongue swirls around your mouth, drinking in your intoxicating taste and gliding his rough fingertips up and down your body, memorizing every curve before coming to rest on your hips. Your teeth clash, pleasure and heat travel to your core, fueling your arousal as a hard member prods at you from under Cedric’s dangerously low towel.

“Besides, I want the whole castle to know you’re mine.” The grey-eyed hufflepuff bucks his hips into yours again making you squirm. “C-Cedric!” You cry out, wrapping your arms around his muscular shoulders and digging your nails into your champion’s back, the steam in the shower clouds your perception even more, all you could sense was Cedric’s body against yours, every muscle every scar. Cedric’s teasing lips pull up again as you begin to ramble.

“I-I need you.” you beg nervously, grinding your hips against the soaked material of Cedric’s towel.

“Would you like my fingers or my tongue love.” Cedric’s cool digits brush the inside of your thighs, you nearly jump at the feeling. “Both.” You manage to whimper out as Cedric’s hard stare bores into you.

“Dirty girl.” He smirks teasingly, his voice smooth as satin and dark as sin. “Beg for it.”

You could feel your arousal growing at Cedric’s words. You’d never seen him as the type to wish his partner to beg, but Merlin you weren’t complaining.

“Please Cedric, I need you. You make me feel so fucking good, please don’t stop, let the whole castle know who I belong to.”

Your champion’s eyes go from a piercing grey to almost black as lust and arousal course through his veins. He slowly lowers himself to the ground, pressing kisses all the way down to where you needed him most. Cedric takes his time spreading your legs apart and kissing up your inner thighs and blowing on your clit, sending shockwaves up your trembling form. He looks back up at you as he leans forwards and licks a stripe through your folds and begins to swirl his tongue around your clit. Your thoughts run cold, all that consumes your mind was the ecstasy running through your veins, Cedric flicking his tongue around your sex, fucking you with his tongue and lapping hungrily at your sweet juices.

“Oh fuck Cedric, please don’t stop.” Your mewling voice begs needlingly, breathing heavily to keep yourself from falling over.

Cedric smiles into you and slowly teases his fingers around your entrance, tracing along the edge of your slit before sinking two long digits into your wetness. spots flash in front of your eyes as your head falls back against the wall. Cedric pulls and pushes his fingers in and out of you at a quick pace, twisting them around and bending slightly as your walls grow tighter around him. He uses his body to keep your legs from doubling over in pleasure and continues to ravage you with both his tongue and fingers. flicking and sucking at your bundle of nerves while thrusting his fingers in and out of your core. A familiar knot begins to form and you dig your hand into Cedric’s damp hair, pulling him closer to you and desperately rocking your hips against his face, desperate for any more friction he could give you. Cedric chuckles at your moaning form. Sending even more delicious vibrations to your sensitive clit, as moans mix with longing cries of your lover’s name. Cedric pulls his mouth away, bringing himself to a standing position, still burying his fingers in you, replacing his tongue with his calloused thumb to massage your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“You don’t know what you do to me darling. How does it make you feel that you give me a hard-on every time you lift that shirt up to wipe your face? Every time you bite that gorgeous lip, or flip your hair you’d have me wanting to bend you over and fuck you senseless.”

You try and respond, but the pleasure Cedric was giving to you was all your mind could take. The sound of his fingers pounding into your wet core and Cedric’s deep pants were driving you insane. You can only moan in response and crash your lips against his again. You can taste yourself as Cedric dips his tongue against yours, nibbling on your lip and picking up his pace with his fingers. A familiar knot forms in your abdomen and you have to pull away from Cedric’s lips to moan and arch your back even more, you can feel your walls clenching tighter against the rough fingers pounding in and out of you.

All at once the knot snaps and waves upon waves of euphoria washes over you and consuming your vision in white. Crying out Cedric’s name over and over again, the brunette helps you ride out your high, continuing to pulse his fingers in your clenching hole and kneeling down again to lap up your juices as you moan out and rock your hips gently, Cedric’s cock begins to twitch like mad watching he waves of cum spill from your core, but he takes his time, savoring every drop of your sex.

Cedric is practically beaming with pride as he stands again, holding the back of your head in his large hand.

“So sweet love.” He smirks, wiping a drop of your cum off of his bottom lip with his thumb and licking it off slowly, keeping direct eye contact with you. Your face was red, your legs quivering, and deep breaths sounding from your lips.

“I’m not done with you yet darling.” Cedric drops the towel from his waist and boxes you in his arms again.

“You won’t be able to walk when I’m through with you.” The toned seeker teases in a dark voice.

Feeling his length against your stomach you bite back a moan, fuck he was big. You were unsure what to do, but taking his twitching cock into your hand, you pump his length experimentally, receiving a soft moan in return. Picking up the pace, you spread the precum on his tip as a lubricant. Working your hand against him, he reconnects your lips, a soft whimper flowing from Cedric’s lips. You keep using your hand to pleasure your champion, but Cedric can’t take it anymore.

“I need to be inside of you darling.” Cedric rasps, reluctantly pulling your hand from his throbbing tip and wrapping his arms around you.

“jump.”

Without hesitation you leap up and wrap your legs around Cedric’s hips and he presses you against the wall for support.

“Ready Love?” Cedric smirks, his hands squeezing your ass and cock teasing your soft folds.

“Shut up and take me Diggory.”

Cedric wastes no time sinking into you, slowly at first, letting you adjust to his thick shaft, small grunts sounding from your lips as Cedric sink deeper.

“You’re taking me so well darling, f-fuck.” Cedric groans, sticking his head in the crook of your neck, nibbling on your sensitive skin and squeezing your hips.

Tears prick in your eyes as Cedric bottoms out in you, burying your hand in his wet brown curls you whimper at the feeling of being so full.

After a couple moments the pain turns to pleasure and you shimmy around motioning to Cedric it’s okay to move. The brunette begins to thrust in and out of you, slow at first, but soon finding a rhythm, pulling in and out of you in a quick pace, thrusting out to almost his tip before burying himself to the hilt inside you once again.

“Faster Cedric.” your pleading voice gasps and pleads.

Cedric obliges, snapping his hips back and forth to the point you see spots in your vision and you’re dragging your nails down your champions back. Cedric frantically presses his lips against yours again as he groans loudly. You swallow the moan in the kiss and cup your hands around Cedric’s defined jawline, pulling him closer and clenching your core in surprise as he pushes his thumb to your clit.

Your reaction pulls another breathy moan from Cedric, but his thrusts don’t stop. He continues to pound into you, his desire out weighing any tiredness that should’ve been.

Your loud moans only egg him on further. Your sinful, desperate pleas for more drive him insane. Arching your back and rolling your hips, Cedric pounds even further into you.

“Fuck Cedric, right there.” Your loud beg cries out and Cedric smirks, slamming his hips into your spot over and over again. Screams of pleasure and sighs of satisfaction fill the air. Wet sounds of skin on skin ring throughout the large bathroom as Cedric sinks deep into you with each needy thrust.

Parting your lips, another choked moan is pulled from your lips and your vision goes blank once again as your coil snaps and your grip tightens on Cedric. Your champion doesn’t stop, his thrusts are still merciless and needy, but as your slit clenches his cock in a tight hold, his thrust becomes lazier and he can feel his release coming soon.

“You make me feel so good Ced, I’ve had my hand in between my legs thinking about this for so long, o-oh fuck.” You moan in a teasing voice against the brunettes ear. You can feel Cedric’s upper body go rigid as he uses the last of his strength to snap his hips into yours like his life depended on it. Your dirty talk making him imagine your naked body lying on your bed, moaning out his name, probably only a hallway away from him. Years of lust and love fuel his next thrusts. Every time he’d painfully gotten hard because of you, every time he imagined you underneath him and making you scream his name in ecstasy was all coming true and groaning your name into the crook of your neck he snaps his hips in a desperate thrust one more time before releasing all over your tight walls, his body pulsing in euphoria sending shockwaves of pleasure through his entire being.

Your eyes roll back and your legs jolt at his powerful stream, thanking Merlin you had taken the potion to help with cramps not too long ago. You begin to roll your hips lazily to help Cedric ride out his orgasm, your core practically numb with pleasure and your entire body exhausted. Cedric is panting heavily, his hand buried in your hair and his other still supports your body. He gives your bum a small squeeze, your body still against the wall and his still pressed to yours in support, letting the warm water from the tap relax your tired muscles and wash the proof of your pleasures off of your legs, while still intimately connected.

Cedric smiles as he looks deep into your eyes, still panting heavily, but now with nervousness and a slight anxiety. He couldn’t keep his true feelings from you any longer.

“You know I love you right?” The hufflepuff head boy confesses, running a hand down the side of your face.

“I’d hope so, considering you just fucked me senseless.” You giggle and wrap your arms around Cedric’s toned shoulders.

Your giggle dies down to a grin and a pink blush makes it’s way onto your face as you look down to see the two of you still connected

“I love you too.” You smile earnestly, a smile playing on your lips and you press a kiss to Cedric’s pink cheek. “I’ve loved you since those days in fifth year when I trained with you, you don’t know how relieved I was you survived, and with Umbridge around I thought I might never get the chance to confess.” Your emotions come through and Cedric has to blink the pure happiness from his eyes to respond.

“I’ve loved you since the moment you came rushing into my arms after the maze, I had a crush on you before, but i’ll never forget when you said those words, I knew I’d never let you go.” Cedric’s smile falters a bit as your stare drops to his lips.

“C-can I kiss you?” His face grows closer to yours.

“Didn’t ask for permission while you were cumming in me.” You tease, peppering kisses all around Cedric’s handsome features as his face grows hot in embarrassment.

“I-Is that a yes?” He murmurs hopefully, your soft lips trailing down his jawline.

You smile and press a kiss to the corner of Cedric’s mouth.

“As long as I can be your girl.” You giggle.

Cedric immediately pushes his lips to yours in a more delicate, but wanting kiss. Taking his time now to show you his adoration and care for you. The sounds of your lips molding together sounding through the large shower. Cedric runs his tongue through your mouth again, slowly this time, sighing at the taste of your after-game drink and the light taste of strawberry chap stick that remained on the inside your lips, begging to be found and appreciated.

As Cedric continues to ravage your mouth you run your hands up and down his chest and abs, taking deep breaths of his autumn like scent. Campfire, vanilla and honey were the most prominent, while his aftershave also offered a sharp, wood like smell.

“I love you y/n, so much. It would be an honor to have you as my girl.” Cedric sighs against your lips, placing one final peck before pulling away and grinning like a little kid. A smile begins to form on your face.

“Hey, did you think you could, you know.” You awkwardly motion down towards where you were still intertwined. “My legs are kid of sore.” Cedric’s eyes widen in realization and he nods frantically, apologies spilling from his lips as he slowly pulls out of you with a small ‘pop.’ Cedric lowers your feet to the ground and begins to back up, but the sudden weight removed from your body made your legs forget how to move and you crash into Cedric’s chest again.

Your legs felt numb and you couldn’t get them to move properly without falling. Cedric does his best to hide his pride as your lips pull into a frown, but a small smirk emerges as he bites his lip to stop it. He glances down and also notices the small purple love bites littering your neck and he almost beams.

“I hope you’re happy with yourself Ced, I can’t walk.” You roll your eyes at his useless attempt to stop his smile.

“I am, and I must say you look absolutely ravishing sporting my love bites darling.” He grins darkly, but a light chuckle breaks free.

“Alright let’s get you dressed, come on.” Cedric turns the tap off before leaning over again and catching your legs in his arms, carrying you bridal style out of shower, grabbing your towel and gym bag on the way out.

Placing you down on a bench, he grabs his own fluffy, white towel from his bag. Using it to pat your hair and body dry, making sure to get every inch of your body, and being careful around your intimate parts as you winced often. Grabbing another school-provided towel, he pats his upper-body dry before tying the cloth around his waist. Shaking out his damp hair, he grabs your bag and places it next to you.

“Do you think you can do it yourself darling?” His voice is filled with concern, but you nod and zip open your bag. Cedric turns to his own clothes and after tugging on a pair of boxers and sweatpants, wipes his hair dry before throwing on a t-shirt.

He turns to see you in a black sports bra, tugging on a pair of black tights, but unable to get them up your bum. Cedric smirks, walking over to you and pulling you up, holding you against him as a support while you finally get the leggings on. He sits you back down before pulling a jumper out of his bag and slipping it over your head.

The sweater seems to swallow you whole and it takes a moment to find the holes for your arms. You thank Cedric and sigh at being engulfed in Cedric’s sweet scent, pulling the jumper over your nose and smiling in content.

“You look better in my clothes than I do.” Cedric smirks happily, pulling you up again and interlocking your hands.

“Well in that case I guess I’ll keep it.” You grin, slipping on your sneakers and following Cedric out the prefect bathroom to the best of your abilities, having to stop often due to the aftershock of Cedric’s desperate pounding. Finally resorting to Cedric carrying you once again. Thankfully Dolores and her goons seemed to be missing from the scene.

Finally making it back to the hufflepuff common room, Cedric sneaks you into his dorm and closes the canopy around his four poster bed. Breathing out in content, The head boy cuddles you into his chest and wraps his arms around your torso.

“Can’t believe you’re actually here on my bed with me, I’ve only dreamt of this.” Cedric murmurs giddily, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your nose.

You snake your arms around Cedric’s broad chest and cuddle closer to him.

“I’m never letting you go, you know that.” Your champion teases, kissing your hairline.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You reassure, closing your eyes tiredly and slowly drifting off, exhaustion from the day's activities getting to you.

Cedric peers down at you a happy smile resting on his lips as he too yawns and relaxes into his pillow. This day couldn’t have gone any better. He won the game, fucked you in the shower and now he’s cuddling you in his bed. His blush reappears onto his cheeks as your breathy moans engrave themselves into his brain, but pride takes over as he reminds himself it was him who made you moan like that. Peppering kisses on your forehead he finally closes his eyes and replays your evening with a small smirk.

This is my first time writing smut so tips would be appreciated!

#harry potter imagine #cedricsbrowncurls #cedric diggory fluff #cedric diggory smut #harry potter fandom #cedric smut #cedric diggory imagine #cedric diggory x reader #smut #fluff #shower smut #holy fuck #cedric diggory #cedric x y/n #cedric x you #hope you like it #nsfw.anya

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yoondles · 3 years ago

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Unholy - P.JM

Devil! P.JM x Reader

Summary: The Devil doesn’t ask for repentance, he punishes those who fail to repent.

Themes: A few religious hints here and there but it’s just porn without plot

Word Count: 5k, edited if you close your eyes

Inspo: nothing but ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵒˡʸ ᵇᶦᵇˡᵉ jk

Warnings: Degradation (he calls you a whore), huge dick like hUge, fingering, oral (m receiving), bondage, unprotected seggs, rough seggs?, teasing/edging, creampie, mature language, mentions of murder, drug dealing, and Jimin is a 🤏 cunty.

A yawn. It was what had woken you up, it was ironic however, the person who yawned must’ve pulled something from his muscles that he had to yell loudly. His bones cracked as your eyes opened, lashes fluttering as you sneaked a glance towards his direction. He cocked one of his eyebrows up, giving you a look that he was indeed better than you. You tried your best to move around, only to find out that you were held locked against the mattress.

The chains repeatedly moved against the wooden frame of the large bed. Your legs were locked up, but most importantly, you were naked. Cheeks tinted a pink hue as your observed the entirety of the room, your heart was pounding against your chest as you tried to cover yourself. Your eyes avoided his, gazing at the dark hues of red that scattered around the room.

The cold air did nothing but remind you of your current form, knees quivering as your nipples went hard from the cool breeze. Breath halting as you felt the man beside you breath against your neck. “Where am I?” You dared to ask, after all, your mouth had not been forced shut, might as well put it to use.

“Ah, the pure innocence humans have when they’ve finally reached my domain.” He muttered, his shoes clacking against the tile of the room. Pushing his tongue in his cheek as he fixed his coat, gently placing it behind the chair as he dragged it lazily in front of you. “You’re in hell, darling!” He exclaimed, eyes turning bright as he met your terrified eyes, pearly white teeth glowing brightly in enthusiasm. “No, seriously, where the fuck am I?”

“Well, aren’t you a crude little brat?”

“This is fantastic, you little grievances just keep on getting cocky,” He was annoyed, licking his lips as he gazed at the corner of the room, as if he were trying to calm himself down. He pushed his hair back, cracking his neck before gently placing both of his hands in his hips. A derisive gaze lingered on your body as he eyed your entirety.

The silver from his ears glowed brightly under the light that illuminated the room, his prominent cheek bones were highlighted, his plump lips were slightly open as he finally moved to meet your eyes. “Having the time of your life, aren’t you?” You wondered how long you’ve been staring at him, nitpicking, trying hard to find a flaw in his image. His mood was quick to change as he leaned forward, hands reaching your neck before enclosing it in a inhumane grasp, limiting the oxygen that flowed within you. “Always so fragile.” He muttered under his breath, watching the way your veins would appear.

You choked out a breath. You coughed out as his hands began travelling south, touching the area around your hard nipples but being careful to the point that he doesn’t allow himself to touch them. “Get your hands off of me, freak!” You yelled, the sound of metal rattling blasting the entire room.

He seemed unfazed. “You’re a feisty little bitch for someone who’s supposed to be punished, very ill-mannered if I may add. I’ll talk to God about this design flaw,” he was shaking his head as he grabbed a small notebook from his coat pocket, alongside a pen, writing down his observations as he muttered against his lips. “What?” You yelled once again, chains rattling loudly as you did your best to run away from this lunatic. “God, as in G, O, D. Father of almighty, creator of heaven and earth, do you want me to continue reciting the Apostles’ Creed?”

“Stop playing around, just — let’s get this over with, I want to go home.” He was confused, completely taken aback by your sudden submission, closing your eyes as if you were waiting for something to happen. Thunder rumbled from the outside, as the ground slightly shook. “Completely lost will to live, shows lack of loyalty...” the sound his pen made against the grain of the paper brought you back to reality, you couldn’t help but laugh at how much he took this seriously. Sure, it was one thing to live in your fantasy, but to write things as if this were reality? What type of weed did he smoke to get this high?

You let out a yelp as his fingers hit your exposed cunt, wincing as he shifted the pen back to its’ original position, closing the notebook with his pen inside. “May I remind you, you’re in hell, darling. You don’t get to boss me around, most importantly, you don’t get to push me into listening to your orders.”

The tone of his voice never faltered, “you’ve been quite a naughty little bitch out there, criminal records going quite far. You’re going to love it here, maybe you’d roam around as a middle class woman, especially with that reputation.” You shut your mouth, pulling once more as you tried your best to break free. No one knew about your criminal records, no one knew that you did illegal work. So who the hell was he, coming out here and telling you about this? You suppose he was a man of power, or maybe the police had finally caught you, you had no idea. “Normally I’d approve of it, you know, living your own life. However, you brought this hellhole, quite literally, so many souls. Imagine having to get in a queue to enter hell. All the drug dealing, corruption of innocent souls, let’s not forget about the old woman you forced your subordinates to run over.”

“H-how?”

“I rule hell! For someone who’s been living a life as lavish as yours, you’re quite dumb.”

His fingers were tracing small circles in your stomach, pinching it every once in a while as you moved your hips trying to avoid his warm hands. “So, you’re Satan?” He pulled his hand away, rolling his eyes. “Of course, that’s what you would say...” he pushed his slick hair back situating himself in the chair near your bed. “Whichever you prefer, however, the lilt the name Jimin has is something I’m quite fond of.”

It was distracting trying to listen to him as his fingers slapped your cunt once more, forcing you to hold your breath. You tried your best to limit your reactions, trying to not feed into his ego as you were already held captive and bound. Whether he was lying or not, you had to at least play safely around him. His hands travelled towards your thighs, quietly observing the way you would react. The way you would shiver every moment he inched up closer to your weeping vulva. “You’re such fragile creatures, y/n.” Closing your eyes as you felt him inch closer, his breath fanned over your clavicle. “Fragile enough to be tempted by the devil himself, aren’t we?” You whispered in his ear, breath shaking as his skin came in contact with yours. He let out a laugh, hands flying towards your needy breasts as he drew lines with his finger. “That’s a common misconception, darling.”

His eyes failed to meet yours as he continued to harvest reactions and small almost undetectable movements from your body. He was left in awe with the way you responded, shivers ran up and down your spine, breath hitching, the small goosebumps that formed, you were intriguing. “The devil doesn’t tempt you. You imbeciles try so hard to find someone to accuse of your haughty little actions. May I remind you, you’re in control.”

“Well, not right now.” His dark eyes held fire within them as he found yours, gaze burning holes in your body as you finally stopped resisting. There was something about the way he talked, the way he felt so close to you, the way he focused on you and you alone. You felt something from deep within you combust.

“You do everything just to avoid responsibility for your own actions, tell me, y/n. How does it feel to become powerless now that you’re here?” You closed your eyes tight, toes curling as one of his fingers found your clit. His voice dropping octaves as he rolled the pads of his fingers against the wet bundle of nerves. Your eyes rolled back as your limbs rattled the chains in protest.

“Is there a flush of regret? Maybe a hint of happiness because you’re a masochist? Tell me,” you shook your head, still refusing to fall into his hands as he moved faster. Failure to elicit sound lead to a sudden halt in his movements, a whine would emanate from your lips, before he started to move his fingers once more. A sexual punishment where you never reach the peak, a mixture of annoyance, pleasure and humiliation bubbled inside you.

“Your mouth shuts itself off, doesn’t it?” Fingers moving lower, and lower, and lower, finally penetrating your hole as your lips parted. Slick coating it before accepting it with the warmth of your unexplored cavern, he let out a sigh out of satisfaction. You were clueless, you had no idea when you had become this wet, but you were thankful for the penetration. Sighing, you pushed yourself towards his finger as you tried to reach for more, to push him even further inside you. “Oh my,” he was amused, laughing at the humiliating actions you made just to feel more of him.

“Humans tend to break so easily. This time around, I’d be honoured to tell you that maybe I did tempt you. But all I did was fuel the sexual drive you had, nothing more.” You tried to shut him off, your hips grinding harder against the single finger deep within you. Moaning ever so silently, desperate to climax on your own. He remained motionless, doing nothing to help you. You were eager to feel the knot inside your stomach unravel before him. “I wish you’d see how pathetic you look, y/n.” Still you didn’t stop, tears rimmed your eyes as you tried to chase something far away from you. You felt yourself moving closer to the edge, the lack of stimulation from both your clit and your insides had been nothing but excruciating.

Despite the many whines you let loose, he still wouldn’t budge. He left you fending for yourself as the rough spot from within you begged for any form of contact. His fingers were deep enough, but due to the restraints you weren’t able to angle yourself to the perfect position. Hence, his fingers danced around the spot, never touching it. Absentmindedly pushed yourself, you never reached what you had been searching for. The corners of your eyes were starting to fill up with tears due to the pent up frustration that’s been keeping you grounded. Jimin watched in amusement, one of his eyebrows perked upwards as he let his smile loose.

“I c-can’t.” Your elbows were shaking, using them as leverage in order to get into the angle you needed in order to push yourself. In the end, you were nothing but a puddle of your own arousal and sweat. “Please, just— move,” your words were nothing but a whisper, but he heard your pleas. After all, the Devil was always listening.

“Let’s get things straight, y/n. I’m not here to ask you for repentance, you’re beyond that point. You’re here for punishment, not for pleasure.” The tears finally managed to escape your eyes, crying as you did your best to get off. However, with your lack of mobility plus his unforgiving form of punishment, you grew more impatient and far more frustrated. “Please, please, please...” you begged, pleas growing far more silent as seconds passed by. He huffed, pulling has hand away as you uncontrollably shook your head in protest. He grabbed a handkerchief, wiping his finger diligently. “Begging won’t do anything, darling. The devil never settles for bare minimum.”

Maybe it was the touch he cared to give you earlier, maybe it was how the wind carressed your bare figure, you didn’t know which one it was that put you in this situation. You normally had a lot of self control, why were you fallinng apart? The warmth from within you slowly crawling out of your skin in forms of tiny little droplets of precipitation, your breathing came in small gasps, neck craning as you followed the man claiming to be the devil himself. “You want this to be over, just so you could go home... Normally, that would mean I’d finish my business with you, blah, blah, blah... But I’ll need something a little more straightforward. Something I could take as a green flag.” his pearly white teeth appeared right in front of you, smiling in a mocking way. “I’ve got all eternity y/n.” he crossed his legs as he sat down the chair. Opening a bottle of wine, and pouring himself a generous glass.

Thunder rumbled from the outside, and once again the floor shook. Jimin was amused with the way you moved in the bed. Your eyes calculating possible escape routes, as they glossed over the entire room. The sound of the chains echoed in the empty room, repeatedly yanking on them in a small attempt to at least get them off of you. Letting out a huff the moment you realised that this was getting you nowhere. Your little hole was twitching from the cold air that surrounded the entire area, reaching your nipples making them hard once again. Hearing him drink the glass of wine he poured himself had driven you over the edge, somehow, it managed to reflect something so carnal.

You whined in frustration, it was obvious enough that at least one of your worries needed to be eased. “I’ll need words, I’d never hear the end of it if you don’t consent.” Raising your brows up in curiosity, the devil took a step, rising above you with the wine glass directly on top of you. “God might get pissed at me, circumstances like that... Honestly, if his disciples made me look so bad in their little book, I might as well play the part.” He shrugged, talking to himself as he inhaled the scent of the alcoholic beverage. His mere presence tempting you as your vulva weeped for more, shivering against the cold gust of air, in the midst of talking to you, he accidentally tipped over the glass, spilling a little bit on your stomach.

The liquid was enough to send a jolt running through your body. “Goodness me,” he muttered as he grabbed a piece of cloth from his coat pocket. Wiping it down, moving towards the direction of your cunt, wiping a little bit of the wetness off. You whimpered unintentionally, “you were messing the sheets.” he scrunched his nose towards your direction. You tried your best to close your legs, chains producing more noise, before you finally gave in. “Please, use me. I need you.” It happened quickly, Jimin’s ears were trained and hadn’t missed a best. He raised his brows, glass long forgotten, setting it aside. “A little louder please,” a tone danced with his voice, as if the excitement finally had erupted from within him. “Use me as you will, please.” It wasdegrading, but it was worth it when you felt him squeezing in two of his delicate fingers. Pushing past your walls, finally gaining the courage to breach further and dwell deeper inside of you.

You arched your back, the desperation had finally reached you. “Fuck me,” you silently whispered, his palm hitting your tiny bundle of nerves, as he continued to pound his fingers against you. “Look at your little cunt,” he was astonished, the way your tight walls enveloped his fingers, it would restrict him from spreading his fingers apart. “You must have a sinful mind, I’ve barely done anything to you, and yet, here you are.” His eyes widened as he smiled, a small ember flame growing larger, reflecting his heightened need for sexual attention. He was getting far more excited as he felt your walls grow wetter, and even tighter. He could feel your orgasm coming, the way your short gasps would erupt from your mouth, how your stomach moved in an attempt to ease the knot you feel inside of you, the way your legs shaked, with the noise of your restraints moving against the bed posts. “Faster,” and yet, you howled for more. He tore his gaze away from your dripping vulva, observing the way your face would contort.

The way your mouth was left agape, how small lines appeared from beside your eyes as you shut them tightly, how your neck tilted, exposing flesh he’s desperate to mark. And so, you came undone. The pleasure rippled from your core, reverberating throughout the expanse of your body. Your legs quivered in a desperate attempt to close your legs.

He let you ride your high, finally, pulling his fingers away. “Open wide, y/n. I’m teaching you how you must clean up after yourself.” He laughed at his own comment, happily obliging you opened up for his fingers. Sucking off remnants of your arousal, not minding the salty taste of your release, indulging. “For a human in hell, you’re quite decent. You know how to follow orders,” he pulled his fingers away with a pop, being the diligent man he was, he cleaned his fingers with the same handkerchief he used earlier. Discarding the fabric, letting it flop in the table.

“Such a pretty little figure. A shame humans had gotten their hands on you,” he bit his plump lips, walking slowly from one side to another as he watched your naked figure. Presented in a way so delicately, so small, and yet your eyes burned with a far cry from innocence. He could break you, have you begging for his dick all night long, but he too had limits. Just with how tight his pants felt, he knew at least by the next few hours he needed to be inside of you. Your lustful gaze never left his figure, the scent that erupted from your sex had been too intoxicating that even the finest wine couldn’t compete. You were far too precious to be laying down here, all prepped up just for him and no one else.

The area below you slowly sunk down, informing you that someone had occupied the empty space. The heat that emanated from his body was noticeable, but it was nothing unusual. The pads of his fingers danced around your face, holding your jaw tightly as he forced you to look up to him. You held your breath as you waited for his next move. His hand trailed downwards, finally giving your soft mounds the attention that they deserved. Perky nipples greeting him once more, flicking his finger against one of them just so he could hear your moans once again. Giving the other a harsh slap, quickly turning in a shade of red due to the sensitivity of your skin. “How should I have my way with you, y/n?” Although he addressed you, you were certain he’d been talking to himself as he experimented with your body.

Hands moving south as he drew circles on your stomach, your cunt managed to produce more wetness, making it look like an appetite underneath the single lightbulb from the room. Leaning down as he gave the area just above your pussy a small quick peck, before inhaling your scent. Closing his eyes as he tried his best to imprint the unique smell only you could make. “You’re a fucking sin, y/n. You’re the embodiment of everything unholy,” he found the area between your legs the most enticing to him. For the first time tonight, he let himself have you. He let himself fall under your temptations.

You felt butterflies, the juices you released finally had purpose. No longer discarding the liquid you brewed for him. Maybe it was the validation that he, too, wanted you, the humiliation that even the devil didn’t want to have a piece of you was beginning to eat you away. One quick flick of his tongue was enough to erase any harsh feelings. His lips wrapped around your clit as your mouth did their best to put emphasis on the two syllables that represented his name.

Just as quick as it had happened, he was pulling away. Slowly prying the buttons open to his shirt, coat long discarded in the ground as he gave you an exclusive show. The way his biceps would flex in front of you. His chest moving along with his harsh breathing. Never missing the way his shoulders would move, and how the veins would protrude as he discarded his clothing. Soon followed his belt, the latch hooking against the chain, making it pull on your leg slightly, reminding you how bare you were in front of him. Gently pulling the zipper down as his huge dick finally showed itself. Sporting a few tattoos here and there, as he threw the last of his garments somewhere across the room. You bit your lips, as you unconsciously moaned just when you take in everything presented to you. Your breathing grew far more harsh.

You took in his entire figure. His dick long enough to go past his belly button, thick enough to make his hands look very small. His tip was glistening with precum, tiny droplets that glowed, licking your lips as all you could do was fantasise about drinking him all up. You didn’t really expect that he’d be merciless with you, but when you felt his presence right above you, and his tip just below your lips. You opened your mouth greedily, moving your head forward, eager to finally have him down your throat. “Well aren’t you a good little bitch,” he muttered under his breath as he held your hair with a makeshift ponytail. Pulling onto it as he moved forward. “Open wider, darling. You and I both know I’m not gonna fit,” chuckling as he continued to instruct you.

He held your head in place as you opened your mouth as wide as you can, slowly he entered you. Your teeth barely missed his length, experimenting as you moved your tongue below his shaft, loving the way you could easily make him moan. He was sensitive. “Good grief,”

He pulled back out, your greedy lips encasing him in, just as his tip was about to leave your mouth. Your mouth was left agape as your eyes followed the direction of his tip, finally close enough just so you could kiss it, licking a stripe as you tasted his precum. Sighing out of satisfaction as you bobbed your head even further down. He was barely halfway in when you felt him hit the back of your throat. “You’re greedy aren’t you?” He pushed himself even further down, making your body jolt due to the sudden movement. “Avid little mouth sucking me just back in, you’ve barely prepared yourself and yet here you are, sucking my cock like a fucking whore, letting me hit your throat.” You tried to nod, however the obvious intrusion didn’t allow you.

Your tears welled up, as you tried your best to make him proud of you. “Shit,” he cursed under his breath as he felt your tight throat constricting around him. Quickly he was pulling away, your lips had remnants of his precum, mixed with your own saliva as you held your mouth open for him to inspect. Your eyes shed tears due to how deep he went inside of you. Lashes turning heavy as droplets of tears continued to house themselves there. You were breathing heavily. “The devil isn’t usually rewarding, but I’ll make an exception for you.” Another shift in your positions as he stood up. Proudly walking around with a body sculpted by the greatest sculptors, his back muscles to tight, his sweat doing him justice making every single part of him far more contoured, emphasising every movement he made as he was finally setting himself in between your legs.

You pulled onto your chains, as you desperately wanted to hold onto him. His hair was barely covering his eyes as he watched you in amusement, his dick in hand as he positioned it against your cunt. “Let me touch you please, Jimin.” You winced at your own voice, rough and coarse as it reminded you of the previous events. You rattled the chains even louder this time, you could feel the underside of his dick grazing your cunt, making you moan as he reached forward freeing both of your hands. You were quick enough to hold onto his neck, “this doesn’t seem like I’m punishing you, I’m just drinking you in at this point, y/n.” You shut him up with a kiss, letting him taste himself. You were too distracted to even notice him positioning himself, and with one quick piston of his hips, he went balls deep inside you.

You broke the kiss apart, the devil looking at you with a smirk in his lips as he gave you no choice but to willingly accept all of his harsh thrusts. You were desperately searching your head for anything coherent to say, but you were knocked out of words. Thrusting harshly as all you could do was moan just below him, yelling his name every once in a while as you felt him hit a familiar spot deep within you, legs shaking as you did your best to keep up with his pace. He held your hips in place, as he continued to pound inside you like a savage. The occasional grunts that left his mouth would continue to echo in your head, giving you fuel to push yourself harder.

“A cunt like yours deserves to be in hell. You’re a freak, y/n.” His deep voice growled against your ear, his gruff voice bringing you back to earth. You felt your sanity drift away from you due to the deep and harsh stroked. Dick carving its’ way through far deeper, able to hit the entrance of your cervix, you were almost certain he’d be marking it as his territory too due to the repeated blows his dick gave.

“God, Jimin,” you muttered upon reaching your second orgasm for tonight. Your breath hitched, toes curling alongside the rise of your body against the soft sheets. He only pushed in deeper and harder, emphasising his presence. “We’re still calling onto him aren’t we?” He moved his hips far harsher this time, hitting your spot. Your vision turned white from the feeling of overstimulation, as if the first orgasm never really stopped, you felt yourself forming another knot from within your stomach. “You pathetic little brat, you should be calling onto me, not him. Tell me, is he the one making you feel this way?” His words were hard to understand as each one of them were emphasised by a harsh roll of his hips, balls smacking, managing to graze your clit with his own skin, as his dick carved itself inside of you. “N-no,” you tried to be obedient, but it was hard when all you felt was the way he was marking you as his territory. “Then who is, y/n? Tell me,” a dark chuckle escaped his plump lips as he bit himself, watching you from below him with hooded eyes.

“Fucking answer me!” He growled, choking you while he continuously pounded inside of you. “Y-you are, Jimin. Fuck!” Colours danced in your eyes, closing them shut due to too much pleasure. As if he wasn’t deep enough, he pushed even further. As if asking your cervix for entrance, acceptance, manhood pounding against it’s doors as you let out a pained moan. Not once did you ever expect you’d be having a dick this big. “That’s right, you’re all mine. Aren’t you?” His hands grew a little more tighter, yelling out your response with a hoarse voice. “I’ll make sure anyone who dares to fuck you next knows,”

“Carving the shape of my dick in your velvet walls,” he was inhuman, yes he was far from being a human. The way he still continued to pound you whilst speaking without a single stutter, how he’s held out his own release even after having his dick sucked. “You like that don’t you?” Encapsulated in your own little bubble as you desperately reached for more oxygen, all you could do was nod at him. “You’re my personal fucking slave, y/n.” With each words he pushed himself deeper, grinding on your g-spot repeatedly, the pleasure was unlike what you’ve felt before. It was pure, something that only the devil could make you feel.

“And I don’t like sharing.” A kiss in your forehead was all that you got before he finally came undone. Alongside the knot you’ve been holding onto for a while, your juices mixed. You felt him pull out, followed by a trail of your mixed essence. He tilted his head in amusement, using one of his fingers to feel the creamy substance that erupted from your vulva. “You did well. I’m quite surprised, you’re a special little bitch, y/n.” Too tired to even form a coherent response you closed your eyes and looked away from him. His words began to sound more fuzzy in your head, the sound of the shower filling in the silence.

A gentle touch on your forehead woke you up, it was his lips kissing you goodbye. “I’m afraid I’ll have to go,” he pulled his slacks back up, buttoning up his shirt, concealing the tattoos and hiding his heavenly body. “To where?” Your voice would almost sound pitiful, he carded his fingers through your hair before standing up and wearing his coat. “Doing God’s work, I suppose.” He grabbed the comforter before encasing you in, your sore legs finally able to close themselves as the sound of his leather shoes hitting the wooden floors slowly dissipated. “I’ll do my best to meet you soon. Please, do enjoy your stay in Hell.”

#Bts #bts smut #bts imagine #jimin smut #park jimin smut #bts x reader #jimin #park jimin #bts imagines #bts x you #jimin imagine

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kiribaku-queen · 4 years ago

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The Blood King and his Queen [6]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Romance, Angst, Drama

Word count: 2.2K

Summary: From being a mere servant girl to marrying the scariest prince in existence, your world changed right before your eyes. Exchanging places with the princess, you knew, wasn’t going to be easy. But could you have found love on the way? Or was it never meant to be?

A/N: I really need to stop writing so late at night... I finish writing sometimes at 2 or 3 in the morning but I have to wake up at 5:30!! God, why do I do that to myself?! But its all worth it because I love reading your comments and seeing your likes and shares <3

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You waved your arms in the air, signaling to his men where you were. How worried and concerned they looked couldn’t be explained with words. It was like they didn’t even look at him as their prince. They viewed him more as a close family member than their future king.

Everyone crowded around Bakugou wanting to be the one to help him up. But ultimately, it was Kirishima and Sero who supported him, one on each side as they helped sling his arms over their shoulders. Bakugou growled in pain every time he moved or took a step. Your eyebrows furrowed in concern and you couldn’t take your eyes off him. You deeply wanted to help him, but what more could you do? Sure, you helped stop the bleeding a little bit but surely there was something else you could do. You wanted to be the one he leaned on. You didn’t want to feel useless. And it was frustrating because you knew you could be of more help. You didn’t want to look like a princess who didn’t know how to do anything.

Mina happened to glance over at you while you mentally criticized yourself. Your hands were balled up in fists in front of you, your pouty lips were quivering, and you couldn’t take your eyes off the wounded prince. Mina’s eyes softened. She came up to you, took your hands in hers, and gave you a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry about that drama queen. He’s going to be fine. He can handle a small cut like that. He’s not called the infamous Blood Prince for nothing,” Mina assured you, making you feel a little bit better but no doubt, still worried.

You all stopped to rest about that ambush. No one else was hurt and nothing had been taken, just a few broken carriages but that’s all. One soldier was setting up a fire to heat up some drinks, two of them were looking at a map and depicting which route was safest to cross, and another was tending to Bakugou’s wounds. Thankfully, there was a whole cart of medicine. They applied medicine skillfully to his cut. This must happen a lot that they know exactly what to do without a doctor. You could only watch as you sit next to him, your eyes never leaving his cut. As his soldier was about to cover his wound back up, you held your hand out to stop him.

“May I?” you offered. The soldier was taken aback at the request, not expecting you to offer your assistance but gladly let you after seeing your determined face.

“As you wish, princess,” he backed off to leave the rest to you. You took hold of the bandages and began to wrap them around his torso.

“You let me know if it starts to hurt again,” you demanded as you finished wrapping him up.

“I’ll be fine,” he grumbled. You didn’t like his answer so you tightened your knot a little too tight for his liking and he winced in pain.

“I’m serious,” you pouted. Bakugou could laugh at your reaction but decided against it.

“Is her highness upset with me?” he questioned and you couldn’t hold back your thoughts.

“How could you get hurt like that?” you exploded. “You had me so worried. What if you had gotten killed? What would I have done then? You shouldn’t let yourself get distracted, especially not because of me.” You were scolding him but Bakugou’s lips turned into a deep frown. He grabbed you by the wrists, making you face him.

“Surely her highness isn’t saying that she is not of importance?” his deep voice whispered, raising one eyebrow in curiosity. Having his face so close to yours made you flustered.

“Well…” you tried to say but couldn’t finish.

“To me, you are the most important person here. I would battle a hundred swordmen and lose all my limbs if it means that you are safe,” he said, seriously. Your lips parted in surprise by his sudden confession. When Bakugou snapped back to his senses, he was the one to become flustered this time.

“B-Because you are the future queen… o-of course,” he tried brushing off, looking away like it was nothing. Any feeling of happiness that you had slowly turned into disappointment. Of course, he was only protecting you because he thinks you are the princess, his future bride. If it was you, you were sure he wouldn’t be saying these things. But you tried to not let it get to you.

“Bakugou, princess!” you heard Sero’s voice behind you. You both turned to see Sero running towards you with two cups in his hands, careful not to spill its contents. “Freshly made. Drink it before it gets too cold.” He squatted, carefully giving you both a cup.

“Thank you,” you gave Sero a smile.

“Ah, also,” Sero stopped to pull out a map from his back pocket. “Kirishima was looking at the map again and if we go through this route, we can probably avoid any more bandits.” He said while showing Bakugou the new route.

“Can we still make it there in two days time?” Bakugou asked.

“Yes sir,” Sero said confidently.

“Good man. We’ll leave in 10,” Bakugou gave Sero a nod of approval. When he left, Bakugou attempted to get up from his position. He held onto the tree for support and grunted in pain as he started to stand.

“What are you doing?” you questioned, puzzled on what he was doing. Instinctively, you grabbed hold onto his arm to help support him.

“Leaving. I have to make sure everything is intact,” he said and still tried to stand tall. You pushed him back down and shoved the cup back in his hands.

“At least finish this. I’ll go do it for you,” you say. Before Bakugou had the chance to refuse your offer, you were already on your feet, running to the group of soldiers. Bakugou watched while you were frantically making sure that you had all the supplies and checking everything like he would. Although, being a rookie, you were bad at your job. The soldiers laughed, making you feel embarrassed yet welcomed by them. They told you everything you needed to check so that next time, you could do it yourself. With a smirk, Bakugou watched in amusement.

You traveled on the new route Kirishima had set for you all. But because it wasn’t the normal road they took, it was a bumpy ride with the ground being uneven. You thought you would be fine continuing on, but you became a little jumpy due to the recent events that just happened. Every snap of a twig or rustle of the bushes, you turned your head to make sure that no other bandits were sneaking up on you.

“Scared, princess?” Bakugou whispered in your ear. You huffed and crossed your arms.

“No,” you denied.

“Like I said, I’ll protect you no matter the cost,” he reminded you. He was loud enough for his other soldiers to hear. Mina gushed over his comment while the others had their mouths wide open. Bakugou? The Blood Prince? Saying these romantic remarks to a woman? Now this was a new sight to see. Kirishima, on the other hand, was smiling softly at the new couple. He couldn’t wait to see your relationship bloom into something beautiful.

Being that the road you were on was so uneven, you had to hold on tight so that you didn’t fall off the horse. At one point, the horse became scared, lifting on his hind legs. You gasped out loud and closed your eyes to brace yourself for a fall. But Bakugou had swooped his arm around your waist and stabilized both of you to stay on the horse.

“See, gotcha,” the prince teased. You covered your face so he couldn’t see how flushed your face was. Bakugou chuckled because he knew. He could tell you were flustered and that’s the exact reaction he wanted to get out of you.

As promised, in two days time, you made it to your next destination. What you saw wasn’t a lively town, filled with vibrant colors and a chorus of people. There were no food stands that sold a variety of foods and desserts. No whiff of saliva-inducing smells. No entertainment on the street for you to enjoy.

You saw a poor village; with run-down houses and starving people all over the streets. The atmosphere turned sad, like a gray cloud was constantly over this place. The life out of this town was completely sucked out. The image was so heartbreaking that you could break down in tears this very instant.

“Bakugou,” your voice cracked.

“I know,” he said, just as sad and disappointed you were, probably even more. “This is the other side of the kingdom that no one gets to see. Most of this kingdom is living in poverty. Everyone knows of the more lavish side, but in reality, what you are currently seeing is most of my kingdom. There are two completely different worlds here but no one, not my brothers not the kind, is doing anything about it. I don’t even know how to fix it.” He explained. You reached a certain, open area and Bakugou got off, so did every soldier. They began unloading all their supplies. You could see a line starting to form not far from you guys.

“And this is the only way I can think of to help,” he said, offering his hand to you. You took it, hoping off the horse.

“How often do you do this?” you ask, still in shock with what you were seeing.

“Every month or so? I try as often as I can,” he replied as he also started unpacking the crates from the cart. Food, medicine, spare clothes, they had it all. The realization hit you. So that’s why they packed so many things in the beginning. It was for his people. His men were almost done setting up, getting ready to pass out rations to his people. But you were standing to the side awkwardly.

No. There was no doubt in your mind that you wanted to help him. You moved to stand next to Bakugou, proactively helping to pass out food rations.

“You don’t have to do this, you know. Aren’t you embarrassed as a princess?” Bakugou asked without sparing you a glance.

“Never. I want to help,” you said as confidently as you could, giving him eyes of determination. Bakugou finally looked at you, his heart skipping a beat again. He coughed, beating on his chest a few times.

You smiled at everyone who came in line, welcoming them without a single judgment. You looked down the line and all his soldiers were doing the same thing. They do this so often that the people recognize them and are laughing and having a good time. For living in such poor conditions, their spirits weren’t down.

After every single person had gotten their rations, you thought the work was over. Oh, how you were wrong. Once that was over with, his men started carrying out more things from the crates. This time, it was wood. They were going to help repair some homes. You were going to find Bakugou but immediately turned around when he took his cape and you saw him completely shirtless.

“You can sit this one out princess. This’ll get a little messy,” he advised. But you shook your head, still facing away from him.

“No, I want to help!” you were still determined. He chuckled at you.

“If you want to help, you’re gonna have to face the other way,” he pointed out. You took a deep breath and had the courage to face him. But only, your stare was straight down at the floor instead of him. How could you? With him being shirtless and all. Was that even necessary?

Bakugou took an axe and started chopping some wood. Your job was to bring the chopped wood to his soldiers who were the ones building the houses.

You eventually got tired bringing the wood back and forth, so you took a seat next to Bakugou who was nonstop chopping wood. The sweat was glistening his body in a godly matter. You couldn’t take your eyes away from his chest, that was heaving up and down. And then add some sweat? Phew, it made you feel hot.

“How long as this been going on?” you started a conversation.

“Ha?” he turned to you, not expecting you say anything so he was a tad out of it. “Ah, all my life.” He said. He decided that he’ll take a break too. He put down the axe and sat down next to you.

“If my father didn’t lie, these people probably wouldn’t be living like this,” he commented.

“Your father lied?” you asked curiously. Bakugou couldn’t believe that he was actually saying this, but he felt comfortable enough with you that he did.

“When he became King, he promised that he would protect every life in his kingdom. But look at all these people. They are suffering and dying because they are not getting the help that they need. And my father is neglecting them! He is a liar who couldn’t commit to a promise!” Bakugou started getting heated up. “That’s why I hate liars. I’ll ruin anyone who lies to me.”

And when he said that, your heart physically dropped.

A/N: Can I just say, you're gonna LOVE the next chapter. I literally just know it because I LOVE IT!

Also, does anyone else just read these chapters and think of it as an anime? No? Just me? Honestly, if I'm the only one that does this I'm gonna feel like such an idiot.

If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment or DM me and I'll gladly add you!!!

Tagged: @superblyspeedydragon @melasnchz-things @animexholic @bkgwrites @sam-i-am-1025 @apexqueenie @katsukibabe @germfart3 @tspice283 @angie-1306 @bakugous-trauma @bakugousmrs @random-fandom-girl-24 @monetfatalia @triviajeongin @readingslumpfanfic @softredrobin

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bnha bakugou #bakugou imagine #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha imagine #bakugou angst #bakugou romance #bakugou fluff #bnha art #bakugou drama

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starshipsofstarlord · 4 years ago

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Omg thank you so much for writing my request for tom :) Can I ask for a part two where you try not to read the comments, but end up doing so, and most are good, so it's fine. Until you post a picture of you on your account, and tom's fans start calling you names, and tom's so tired of all that happening that he posts on his account a whole paragraph about how his personal life it's no one's business?

Posted

This is part two, find the first part here

Summary | previously Tom had accidentally posted a picture of the two of you, exposing your relationship. And so, you decide to purposely do the same on your Instagram, though the response is much different than what his post had received.

Warnings | hate comments, some angst, swear and demeaning words

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Tom was asleep beside you, his head tucked into the crook of your neck, you were able to feel his gentle, slumbering breathing against your skin, and it caused goose bumps to prickle upon the outer layer of your flesh.

The two of you had vastly fallen asleep upon the couch, and your phone was on the coffee table, and to say that you were itchy to reach for it was an understatement. There would be comments on the picture that Tom accidentally put online, and you were hungry to see them, whilst simultaneously nervous.

Tom was a big actor, known for his presence in the marvel cinematic universe upon many other projects, and some of his fans, whilst proven during Comic-Con panels, were borderline crazy. They’d snap if they even so much as saw something that they didn’t like, and this time, you would be on the receiving end of it.

Being motionlessly captured, with your face on show, was certain to bring much attention. You too were within the acting department, but there had been no correlation between the pair of you until now, most of the world weren’t even aware that you knew each other. And not to mention, your span of reaching an audience was smaller, although, certainly not non existent.

You had reprised fame during your appearance on Modern Family, as the friendly neighbour of Phil and Claire, and a classmate of their eldest daughter, and not to mention Luke was crushing hard on the character you played, though, with that said, your character laughed his efforts off due to the age difference, yet still found his pining weird and often uncomfortable.

Another role that you were becoming known for was your character in Netflix’s Irregulars, where you met Harrison Osterfield, Tom’s best friend. Through filming the show, you were introduced to the Spider-Man actor, and the pair of you had hit it off almost instantly, if you didn’t include Tom keeping his amorous distance, wary just in case there was something going on between you and your mutual friend. To his relief, there wasn’t.

And thus, when he received that confirmation, he was far more forward, yet respectful at the same time with his intentions. That was how you had ended up here, as he half used you as a pillow, his arms wrapped around his ribs, and his soft peaceful snores filling the void in the air.

Stretching your arm at its furthest length, your fingertips wrestled with the side of your phone, padding it closer to yourself, so that you could slide it across the small living room table, and closer to yourself. You were victorious in your efforts, and so on you unlocked your screen, going to your camera app, and leaning sideways so that you could snap a few pictures of your predicament with your loving and sweet boyfriend.

Looking at the images that you had captured, a smile arose upon your face; you truly did love this man, and you wanted the whole world to know how much you adored him. You wanted them to see that you cared about him, and that he was in good hands with you, to cool off any of his fans that were processing their hurt feelings for seeing Tom with another woman, show him that he was getting the love that he deserved.

Extreme courage coursed through your veins, focusing within your fingertips as you opened insta, gulping as you readied to post the image. There was no editing required, it was perfect just like him. And so, the caption was something to think about, you didn’t want to make it too obvious that you were dating as the online community already assumed, the priority was to show them that you cared about him.

‘He’s taking a nap, and crushing my hip a little, but I don’t mind 😌’ you typed, your finger hovering over the post button as you chewed your lip. It was easy to press your digit down, and so, taking a breath, you did just that, encouraged by the previous and kind comments on Tom’s earlier post.

Within a matter of minutes, your phone was blowing up, and you were too tempted not to glance at the growing comment section. There were various accounts, some supporting your confidence to show such a domestic version of yourself with Tom, you assumed that they were your followers, and the ones that weren’t so light hearted were those that intently watched anything on the media that involved Tom.

‘He’s too good looking for her, she should be dating someone within her league. Tom is clearly taking pity on this hoe.’

‘Aw look at him, and ew, look at the state of her. He could do sm better 😔’

‘Why doesn’t she look like his exes, they were hot af, and now he’s with some rando that is after his fame and money. Maybe she should just take better roles if she wants to get noticed so bad.’

Your eyes kept reeling through the intentionally hateful words that continued to come through beneath the image. Tears began to fall from your eyes as you tried to stifle the movements and the sound of your gentle sobbing, as to not wake Tom. Quickly, your fingers raced through the social media, and you, knowing that there would still be presence of the image somewhere online, you deleted it, muting notifications and shuffled back into Tom.

The man stirred, tugging you closer by your waist, pressing a kiss to your locks as he awoke. He noticed however the way that you refused to face him, and so he rolled you over with a gentle grip on your shoulder, frowning when he saw the recognisable redness beneath your eyes, and the sad expression floating within your eyes.

“Princess, what’s going on?” He wiped his thumb beneath your bottom lashes, collecting your tears as he worriedly looked down at you. His brown eyes searched every inch of your face for an idea, but found nothing but your broken hearted expression.

“It’s nothing Tommy.” You tried and failed to convince the man, wincing half heartedly as he sat back on his thighs, gripping your hips so that he could pull you up with him, giving him a clearer view of your face. It was clear that he did not believe you, and he hummed, trying to make you give in. Eventually, after much concerned staring, you gave in, slumping your shoulders as you tucked your arms around the back of his neck. “I posted a picture of us, the response wasn’t great.”

Instantly, Tom’s brows uplifted, surprised by your action, though he had a strong inkling of a feeling that the reaction that you had earned was not complimentary. These were not tears of joy, instead they were stricken rivers of anguish and insecurity running down the length of your face.

“Let me see.” He spoke, softly to you, but his intents towards defending you strong. You shook your head lightly, tracing circles upon his knees as you gulped, flickering your guilty gaze up to his watchful eyes.

“I deleted it. I just couldn’t deal with knowing that the longer that it was up, the more hate would be directed at me. I’m sorry.” Tom grasped your face by your tense jaw, his fingers stroking your chin as he sadly stared at you.

“Never be sorry. Now send me the picture you used so that I can give everyone a piece of my mind.” Reaching for your phone, you sent the image to him, and in a second his device pinged, revealing that it had successfully sent to him.

“Cute.” He described the picture, his hands furiously typing away on his phone, his constant unsettling of his rabidly moving fingers drawing anxiousness from you. “And some.” Tom finally breathed, closing his phone as you went to his account, checking what he had posted publicly.

‘This may concern some people, who keep sticking their noses in where it does not involve them. I appreciate you all, the support, the love, everything. But one thing that I do not stand for is people coming at my girlfriend just because they don’t approve of our relationship. If you check mate, I never asked for your opinion, I love y/n, and some online hate, that needs to stop otherwise you are not someone I want to be calling themselves a fan of me, needs to stop. It makes no one happy or feel healthy with spreading such toxicity around the internet, if you don’t like something, then keep your blood mouths shut, this has nothing to do with you, it is just me and my girlfriend. I’d think you’d want me to be happy, because I want the same for all of you, so can people please give my partner some respect, she’s done nothing wrong but bravely chose to reach out to you all, and she had that spat back in her face. It’s not on, and I want this to stop now.’

“Tom...” you were shocked by the paragraph, it came across as aggressive, and very over protective. His action, that could affect how he was cried by people that put him on a pedestal, and that made you feel guilty that he had reached out to them in such a way.

“It’s okay baby, I’d do anything for you, and you know that. No one messes with my girl.” He put his arm around your shoulders as he pulled you close placing a kiss upon your forehead. Not only was he your boyfriend, but he was your protector, your knight on a shining cell phone.

#tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland reader insert #tom x reader #tom imagine #marvel actors x reader #mcu actors x reader #imagines #imagine #xreader

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jessie-writes-things · 4 years ago

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Yet another smut I can't be bothered to edit. 😅 This was meant to be a half an hour thing, 4 hours later and this is what we have.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader Words: 1.4k Genre: SMUT, angst, hurt comfort, friends to lovers Warnings: Sexual content, mentions of cheating, a lot of swearing. Summary: Frankie comforts you.

You were half-asleep on Frankie couch, middle of summer with the balcony doors wide open, the warm breeze soothing the dull thumping behind your eyes.

Your brain won’t slow down.

Going home. Seeing the clothes around the living room. Hearing them in the bedroom.

You should have done something. Should have barged in there and something clever and witty and something to make them realise how much they had messed up.

Fucking dick.

The other cushion dipped. You barely opened your eyes but the small light filtering in stung.

Frankie sat there, legs spread in nothing but his boxers and you screwed your eyes shut again, trying to get the image out of your mind, ‘It’s too warm to sleep.’

‘Mhm.’

It’s quiet, but you can hear his soft breaths, feel him shuffling around on the sofa trying to get comfortable in the claggy heat.

His bare thigh brushes against your calf and the air gets stuck in your lungs, just a small hitch that he shouldn’t have been able to hear.

Everything you should have said floods you like the fucking heavens had just opened and all the angels wanted to drown you.

You’re a piece of shit.

How could you have done this.

Three years. Three fucking years.

With your god damn fucking secretary? You’ve always had a thing for her. Why am I not surprised.

Frankie shifts again, ‘I should go over there and-‘

‘And do what? It’s three in the morning.’

‘I don’t know, punch them.’

‘You wouldn’t punch them. You’re too nice.’

‘I’m sure Benny’s free.’

You snorted, ‘That would be fun to see.’

It’s too quiet. The couch is too soft. The night is too hot.

It’s over.

I never want to see you again, you fucking…

Fucking…

Oh for fuck sake. Nothing?

You piece of shit.

You…

…you.

What the fuck did I ever do to you?

The touch was jarring, jabbing at the part of your thigh where the hem of his shirt laid. It tingled a moment, the feeling of his warm but rough of his finger then hand was too overwhelming that you could barely register what he was saying.

‘What are you thinking?’

‘Nothing.’

You didn’t need to open your eyes to know Frankie was looking at you. But you did anyway and it was one of the worst mistakes you had ever made because when you did, and you saw him watching you with the biggest, heart melting brown eyes you had ever seen, it felt like your entire world was about to crash around you for the second time that night.

‘It’s my fault.’

His hand was still on your knee.

‘What they did isn’t your fault.’

It moved, you weren’t even sure if he was aware if it moved, but it moved, fingers sneaking under the hem and squeezing your thigh.

‘I knew things weren’t good for a while. I could have ended things sooner.’

He must have meant it in a friendly way right? Right? Like a friendly hug or a pat on the back!

‘You can’t think that.’

A very, very friendly hug.

‘I fucked up.’

And you better not fucking fuck up again.

Because he moved again, other hand on your cheek, getting right in your face until all you saw was him.

‘This. Isn’t. Your. Fault.’

He meant it to be reassuring. You were sure of it.

Then why was he looking at your lips? A quick glance that, maybe, he wasn’t even aware of.

You kissed him first. You think. You were sure of it.

Jesus Christ, it doesn’t matter.

Frankie was a better kisser than you were expecting. Not that you were expecting anything. Not at all. Totally hadn’t dreamt about it before. He was the right amount of soft and hard, fast and slow, and when he scooted closer, fitting himself between your legs with a small rumble of approval in his chest, he felt perfect.

You’ve really fucked yourself big time.

You locked him in, legs wrapping around his back, pulling him in closer and he moaned against your mouth. He fucking moaned and it was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard.

One of you pulled away, both gasping for breath and there wasn’t nearly enough room between the two of you to even think.

His breath smells like coffee.

Nice to know.

‘We don’t have to-‘

‘I want to. Do you?’

‘Yes.’ He was still trying to breathe in a somewhat normal manner, his hot mouth so, so close to your neck it was painful as his hands slipping higher under the shirt until they were resting on your hips, ‘Fuck yes.’

‘We should move. To your bed, or something,’ it was exceedingly hard to speak when he was kissing your neck, somehow knowing all the soft spots to make you weak. ‘Your back.’

He did not give two shits about his back, licking his way to your pulse point before nipping at it and you nearly screamed his name like bloody murder, your body reacting without command as you arched into his touch.

It wasn’t long until your shirt hit the floor, quickly followed by Frankie undressing and you definitely found far too much enjoyment in watching him as he so.

God, make it more obvious why don’t you.

‘I’ve been thinking about this,’ he touched your stomach, then lower, and lower until he met your heat, smiling at your small whimper for him, ‘for so long.’

You wanted him close again, missing his body as a chill washed over you, amplified by your burning skin.

But all you could do was watch, his gaze paralysing, watching for your reaction as he teased your clit with his tongue.

Frankie was way too powerful for his own good. He was a wizard, he must be because everything about the way his mouth worked against you was magic.

He had you screaming his name so fucking fast that you were surprised you even remembered it, clawing at his shoulders while wave after wave of utter bliss washed over you.

How the fuck did he do that so quick?

And why the fuck have I waited this long?

Frankie wore the biggest shit-eating grin as he wiggled his way back up to you, stopping along the way to kiss your thighs and your hips and your stomach and your breasts.

His nose brushed your cheek when he kissed and nipped at your jaw, ‘You doing okay?’

‘Mhm.’ You felt heavy, the kind like you could fall asleep at any moment, ‘That was nice.’

‘Good to know.’

And suddenly you were awake again, watching curiously as Frankie reached over off the couch.

‘Do I wanna know why you keep condoms in your coffee table?’

‘Pope-‘

‘-Okay, nope. We’re not talking about them while naked.’

He huffed a laugh and you dragged his lips back to yours before he said another word.

Not that there was much to say after that.

Not that you could think of anything to say because as Frankie slipped into you, you lost all comprehension of what the world was like before. He fit so effortlessly in you with just enough stretch to anchor you back to earth.

And he fucked you, so fucking good into that couch that you were surprised nothing broke. The springs creaked with each snap of his hips and he started out slow, whispering all the things he knew you wanted to hear, but at some point it all got too much, his body moving against yours like no one else’s ever had.

His name choked you as it fell from your lips. It only spurred him on further, knuckles turning white from the force at which he was holding the arm of the couch, fingers digging into the softness of your hip as your bodies moved in time until you were both unravelling for each other.

Mother fucker has ruined sex.

How the hell is anyone meant to beat that?

It was a while before either of you moved, and even when you did it wasn’t far as Frankie hugged you tight against his chest, shielding you from the warm summers breeze that threatened your body.

You snuggled further into him, counting each beat of his heart until you had the rhythm memorised.

Please don’t let me go.

‘I owe you a blowjob after that.’

The beat broke when he laughed softly, ‘They really didn’t deserve you.’

Maybe not.

But there’s no way in hell I deserve anyone half as close to you.

#frankie morales #frankie morales angst #frankie morals smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #lexi writes #april writes #may writes

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slasherhaven · 4 years ago

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Hi! First let me tell you that I LOVE your writing. And as for the request, you see, I can't help but wonder how Thomas, Vincent, Jason and Yautja (and anyone else you'd like) would react to their s/o referencing memes/vines/things like that? For example, my friends and I are constantly doing the whole 'a knife! -- NO' thing and at this point vines are just part of a normal conversation

The Slashers reacting to their S/O referencing memes:

Thomas Hewitt

The whole family is confused. You have the whole family scratching their heads and looking to each other for an explanation. It annoys the hell out of Hoyt that he doesn’t understand, it’s irritating to him. Luda May is confused but usually just gives you a ‘okay, sweetie’ before carrying on. You get a lot of confused looks from Thomas.

But he thinks you’re cute and is supportive. He may not understand the jokes but he thinks the proud look on your face as you laugh to yourself is just adorable. He loves it and he loves you, so he’s supportive even if he doesn’t understand even in the slightest.

Michael Myers

Mostly ignores it. He’ll just blink at you before shrugging it off and carrying on with his day. He’s oddly fond of your random little comments that make you laugh, even if he will never understand them. The biggest reaction you ever got from him was a shake of the head, disapproving of your confusing joke but that made you smile.

“What do you have there?” Michael tilts his head at you before holding up his knife. “No!” you can’t help but burst out into laughter, Michael will never not be confused by you. What was so funny about him having a knife? Whatever, just ignore it.

Jason Voorhees

Confused but supportive. He has no idea what you’re talking about or why you think it’s funny but it’s not causing you or anyone else any harm, so go for it! You reference a meme, laugh at your own joke, he doesn’t understand it at all but will pat you on the head in silent approval.

If you’re happy, he’s happy. These strange references make you laugh and you seem to enjoy them, so he isn’t going to stop you from enjoying yourself.

Brahms Heelshire

Is constantly confused by you. You used to make these jokes when you thought you were alone as well. He didn’t understand them then and he still doesn’t. He likes to see you laugh but really doesn’t understand this side of your humour.

Doesn’t even understand when you show him them. Even when you’ve shown him exactly what you’re referencing, he still doesn’t understand. So you’re random jokes are references to these random short videos and images. Nope, still doesn’t get it.

Bo Sinclair

His responses are mostly confused squints. He just doesn’t know how to react to your randomness, so he just doesn’t. You’ll get a quick or an eyebrow raise before he shakes his head and continues with what he was doing.

Alright, quiet now. Bo is easily irritable and these constant comments that he just doesn’t understand can just get on his nerves. But he wouldn’t be mean to you about it, he has better ways of shutting you up.

Vincent Sinclair

As long as you’re happy. Vincent doesn’t have to understand the joke. You’re smiling and laughing, that’s all that matters. That’s enough to make him smile. Even if he is shaking his head at the reference he just doesn’t understand.

Still won’t get the joke. Even after explain the references or showing him where they come from, he won’t really get it. Sure, some of them are kind of funny, but he still doesn’t get why you reference them in normal conversation.

Lester Sinclair

Doesn’t understand but is still a fan. He finds the randomness of your comments and jokes endearing even if he doesn’t understand them, and he absolutely loves when you confuse Bo. Lester will just nod and laugh along with you but is honest about not knowing what the hell you’re talking about.

You can convert Lester. He’ll let you show him what your referencing and get some context. Some he will understand and like, others he won’t. But you can definitely get him making some references of his own, and the two of you will annoy Bo even more!

Bubba Sawyer

Actually finds you funny. He doesn’t actually understand what you’re referencing but your presentation alone usually has some comedic effect, especially is you’re annoying Drayton. And, to be fair, sometimes just seeing you laugh is enough to get him laughing as well. He just likes seeing you happy!

Chaotic sense of humour. Honestly, introduce Bubba and his brothers to memes, they’ll probably love them as much as you. If Bubba doesn’t understand them, Nubbins and ChopTop will probably be fans. It all drives Drayton insane, the four of you making references and making each other laugh. He can’t deter all of you!

Billy Lenz

Tries so hard to understand you. Even before the two of you officially met, he would watch you so closely, trying to understand what you’re saying or why it’s funny. And when you’re together, he’s still trying to understand, but you confuse him so much.

What have you started? You show him all these references, get him into the world of memes, and he’s going to be referencing them just as much. Seriously, he doesn’t have much else to do and some of them are as chaotic as him.

Otis Driftwood

Lots of confused looks. Otis doesn’t really react to what you’re saying, he doesn’t understand and a part of him doesn’t really care too. Whenever you make a joke or comment, he will just give you a confused look before carrying on with what he was doing.

That’s stupid but he’s glad you enjoy it. You’re not going to convert him by showing him exactly what you are references, they’re just not his sense of humour. His humour is mostly either dirty or morbid with some exceptional situations. But he’s not going to belittle you for finding it funny, if you enjoy it that’s cool. You carry on.

Baby Firefly

I don’t understand but alright, love. Just lets you get on with it. If that makes you laugh, who is she to judge? She’s sure that many people wouldn’t find her funny or understand her jokes about doing fucked up shit, at least yours is more innocent. You just have the whole family confused but all let you get on with it.

A little too supportive. She’s only too supportive because she doesn’t actually have any idea what you were talking about. You’ll make a reference and she’ll be throwing her arm over your shoulders shouting “Yeah!” like you had said something more profound. It’s sweet though!

Yautja (Predator)

Just assumes it’s a human thing. There are already a lot of cultural differences between the two of you. He would often do or say things that you didn’t understand and you would often do or say things that he didn’t understand. He figured that you were making reference to something that he was just unaware of.

Might just educate himself. If you explain where the references come from and show him them, he might just study them to get a better understanding of you. After all, he thinks it’s just part of human culture.

#thomas hewitt x reader #michael myers x reader #jason voorhees x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #brahms x reader #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #bubba sawyer x reader #billy lenz x reader #otis driftwood x reader #baby firefly x reader #yautja x reader #predator x reader #my writing

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k-s-morgan · 4 years ago

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The Evolution of Will Graham’s Darkness

This meta is mostly written for new viewers who find themselves confused by Will as a character. I’ll incorporate some bits of analysis I’ve written before into it. Let’s start with a thesis of a sort: Will is a dark character who had this darkness from the very start, even before his encounter with Hannibal: he was terrified and disgusted with it, but after meeting Hannibal, slowly, he began to embrace himself, getting bolder and bolder in his violence.

**Before the show**

Will initially tried to get into the FBI but he didn’t pass the tests. It’s revealed in E1 of S1 when he’s ambushed by Beverly.

Beverly: Never been an F.B.I. Agent?

Will: Strict screening procedures.

Beverly: Detects instability. You’re unstable?

At the same time, Will became a police officer, working in the Homicide department. These decisions show that he's been stubbornly and rather hopelessly drawn to darkness, seeking ways to interact with it while remaining on the side of law. However, he had to leave the police, too, because he was incapable of pulling the trigger even when his life depended on it. He preferred to allow himself to get stabbed rather than to fight back and kill someone, which points to him having very serious issues with his violence. He knew that once the door in him opens, it might not close again, that if he kills or harms another person, he might be unable to stop (this is proven when he shoots Hobbs and then immediately tries to kill Stammets).

And still, Will chooses to stay close to darkness, only in safer ways. He becomes a teacher in the FBI Academy, letting himself delve into the ugliest cases from a theoretical perspective. This constant pull and struggle leave Will lonely and hostile to everyone. He avoids eye contact with people; Jack’s first impression of him was that he’s rude and arrogant (when they clashed about the name of the museum). Will is rude and haughty with his students, too – but more about it later. Alana refuses to stay alone in the room with him, thinking his instability is too fascinating and she might want to dissect it. Will has no friends; he lives in isolation with his dogs, someone who would never judge him. There are a lot of rumors about him going around, and most people don’t like him (based on Price’s and Zeller’s initial reactions as well as their later conversations on this topic). Will is lonely and pretty miserable.

The first real words we hear from Will are:

Will: Everyone has thought about killing someone.

It is very demonstrative of his personality. We also get evidence right here that Will is drawn to darkness primarily, not to the idea of saving lives (although the latter helps him feel better about his urges). He delves into the minds of killers even when he isn’t involved in the investigation. He had no other reason to explore the Marlows’ murder like he did at the start of the episode, when he was simply teaching students. It’s proof that he willingly craves contact with violent and disturbed minds — it’s not like he actually tries to solve this case for real, he just imagined himself there.

Will’s first conversation with Hannibal speaks volumes about who he is — because Hannibal senses it seconds after meeting him.

Hannibal: Do you have trouble with taste?

Will: My thoughts are often not tasty.

Hannibal: Nor mine. No effective barriers.

Will: I make forts.

This exchange has Will confess that his thoughts are often dark and that he dislikes it. To hold this darkness at bay, he literally builds forts around it, not letting it spread to other parts of his mind.

Hannibal: Your values and decency are present yet shocked at your associations, appalled at your dreams. No forts in the bone arena of your skull for things you love.

Hannibal almost directly calls Will out on his struggle with his inner darkness. He’s saying that he sees it, that he knows it’s there, in Will, in his mind, and Will is very disturbed by this — because Hannibal is right. The script even explicitly backs it up:

Hannibal has just described Will Graham to a letter.

Will is immediately wary and hostile, and he ends the conversation with snappy,

Will: Please don’t psychoanalyze me. You won’t like me when I’m psychoanalyzed.

What does it mean? It’s simple: Will assumes that Hannibal is a typical psychiatrist who wants to dissect him, so he says that once it happens, Hannibal won’t like what he finds (darkness and ugliness Will carries inside).

His hostility to Hannibal lasts up until the moment when Hannibal acknowledges him as a predator and shows approval of it. This is how it happens: Hannibal tries to subtly tell him that it’s all right to be who he is, hinting that they are the same.

Hannibal: You and I are just alike. Problem free. Nothing about us to feel horrible about.

He’s obviously talking about their darkness, but Will doesn’t react, so Hannibal continues. He tells him that Jack views him as a fragile tea cup, and Will genuinely laughs, amused by this (which is also very telling). Then Hannibal says:

Hannibal: [I see you as the] mongoose I want under the house when the snakes slither by.

Will grows quiet after this, and then his interactions with Hannibal become much more relaxed. Will takes him to search the property and even bothers to explain how they reached their conclusions and what they are about to do. Him grumbling, “What are you smiling at?” shows a much higher level of familiarity they now share. Something in Hannibal’s words made Will open up a bit, and everything indicates that it’s the acknowledgement of his predatory nature that played its part in it.

Will kills Hobbs by shooting him 10 times. This is his first kill, one he’s been trying to avoid for so long, ever since his police work. It’s not surprising that Hobbs haunts him later because his death became a breaking point for Will. A door did open in him, and he was unable to close it again.

In E2, Will is distraught. But first, we get a glimpse into how rude and insensitive he generally is. Look at how he treats his students. He tersely thanks them for clapping and then snaps for them to stop. He devises a little malicious test for them.

Will: It’s [Hobbs’] resignation letter. Anybody see the clue?

A few hands go into the air. Will ignores them.

Will: There isn’t one.

He looks so long-suffering with them, as if they are idiots. The fact that he asks a question, waits for people to think and raise their hands, and only then he tells them there is actually no answer is petty at best. He also admits to Jack that he doesn’t consider lessons socialization because he doesn’t have to actually talk to students, he talks at them. Not good for a teacher or even for a person who works with other people like this.

But Will has more serious problems. He keeps imagining Hobbs, and after his messy kill, Jack becomes worried about him. He makes Will go visit Hannibal for one-time evaluation. Will is naturally not fond of the idea, but he and Hannibal have a pretty personal talk. Hannibal ends it with an even more explicit hint at Will’s own darkness:

Hannibal: And Will… the mirrors in your mind can reflect the best of yourself, not the worst of someone else.

Hannibal is talking about Will’s personal brand of violence again. He’s trying to tell him that it’s fine to be a murderer in every way he can, that Will’s darkness might be the best part of him. He also gives him a fake official approval to work in the field, showing that Will can trust him. But their obligatory session ends and Will leaves — only to return after he tries to kill Stammets and misses (their talk about it was cut from the episode but is echoed in the conversation below).

Hannibal: [You are here to] prove that sprig of zest you feel is from saving Abigail, not killing her dad.

Will: I didn't feel a sprig of zest when I shot Eldon Stammets.

Hannibal: You didn't kill Eldon Stammets.

Will: I thought about it. I'm still not entirely sure that wasn't my intention when pulling the trigger.

This is a huge evidence of Will struggling with his violence. It proves that he had it before becoming actively involved with Hannibal — all Hannibal did was recognize it and coax it to come to the surface. Will has always been like this, and after finally killing a person, he found himself unable to stop because he liked the feeling too much.

Hannibal: It wasn't the act of killing Hobbs that got you down, was it? Did you really feel so bad because killing him felt so good?*

Will: I liked killing Hobbs.

Hannibal is pleased to receive the confirmation of what he sensed in Will. Seeing that Will is terrified about his own confession, he comforts him.

Hannibal: Killing must feel good to God, too. He does it all the time, and are we not created in his image?

Let’s be honest, every sane person would have run for the hills after hearing this. Hannibal literally justifies the fact that Will liked murder by drawing a parallel with God. That’s such a narcissistic, serial killer thing to do, and yet Will welcomes it with open arms. He’s happy to find someone who doesn’t think he’s a monster — he’s relieved to be able to finally discuss his darkest impulses freely. This is the reason why Will started coming back to see Hannibal on a constant basis, to Jack’s surprise.

The next huge proof of Will’s ever-present darkness is found in E5 (actually, every episode has some bits, but I’ll cover only the major ones). The Angel Maker, a killer-of-the-week, has a unique gift of being able to see if a person is good or evil. First, Hannibal tries to tell Will that he doesn’t have to self-destruct because of his darkness like he’s been doing.

Hannibal: Angel Maker will be destroyed by what’s happening inside his head. You don’t have to be.

When Angel Maker dies, Will suddenly sees himself through his eyes. And he sees a demon. He sees himself as evil. It proves that Will’s darkness is inherent since he hasn’t done anything really bad at this point. It also proves that he’s perfectly aware of who he is and the darkness he has. He has the following conversation with the imagined Angel Maker.

Angel Maker: I see what you are.

Will: What do you see?

Angel Maker: Inside. I can bring it out of you.

Will: Not all the way out.

So, Will acknowledges that his darkness is rooted so deeply inside him, it can’t even be extracted fully. It’s an inseparable part of him.

Will is shown admiring the Ripper’s murders, calling them elegant and referring to them as art. Meanwhile, he’s trying to half-heartedly flirt with Alana, but they don’t have a meaningful connection because Will can’t be happy with a person who doesn’t know him. He wants to be normal but he just isn’t. If you’re interested in my opinion about their relationship, it’s here.

Will’s next morally gray action happens when he agrees to cover murder for Hannibal and Abigail in E9. He agrees quickly and then he’s shown being fiercely devoted to it. He doesn’t seem to care that Abigail killed someone much — in fact, he basically threatens Freddie, another person who sees him for who he is, to make her write a book favorable toward Abigail.

In E13, Hannibal says what he wants from Will directly.

Hannibal: If you followed the urges you kept down for so long, cultivated them as the inspirations they are, you’d become someone other than yourself.

Will remembers this phrase (he later throws it back into Hannibal’s face), but for now, he’s too angry and bitter to listen.

Will is healthy again and he struggles with realization that Hannibal betrayed him. He starts a dark game of his own: he pretends he’s vulnerable, moving Alana to tears in the process, and asks Hannibal for help. He’s still drawn to him, but he also wants to take him down — for himself and for Abigail.

In E1, Hannibal tells Will the purpose of all their past meetings, how they were aimed at helping Will Become.

Hannibal: Our conversations, Will, were only ever about you opening your eyes to the truth of who you are.

Alana tries to hypnotize Will to help him remember what happened.

Alana: Imagine yourself in a safe and relaxing place... safe and secure here, safe to relax completely...

What does Will imagine? He sees Hannibal’s room and them sitting at the murder table together. He’s freaked out by it, but it proves how twisted his perception is: regardless of the betrayal, a part of him understands that Hannibal is the only person who’s ready to accept him, and he feels safe with him. @bloodsmile wrote a great meta about it here.

Will coldly manipulates Beverly, refusing to help her save lives unless she helps him as well. In E5, he engages in yet another manipulation. He gets Matthew Brown to try to kill Hannibal. This is the first premeditated murder attempt Will is responsible for. That is why we see him growing horns, that is why he sees a sink full of blood — his darkness starts progressing in noticeable ways. By E7, Will has figured out that Hannibal really did everything to open his eyes to the truth of who he is and that he wants to be his friend, but as he still wants revenge, he decides to honey-trap him with Jack.

In E8, Will is dealing with his complex feelings for Hannibal and explores his darkness further. He admits that Hannibal made him feel less alone and that he doesn’t hate him, no matter what; that he has no idea what he feels for him. Then Will tries to kill Ingram in cold blood as revenge for Peter. He asks him to pick up the hammer, indicating that he plans for the murder to look like self-defense. Hannibal tries to talk him out of it, but Will still pulls the trigger. It’s by a miraculous accident that Hannibal manages to stop him. This is the second conscious murder attempt by Will.

In E9, Will has a dream about Hannibal, love, and darkness.

Dream Hannibal: Must I denounce myself as a monster while you still refuse to see the one growing inside you?

Meaning: Will is fully aware of both the presence of this monster inside him and his attempts to ignore it since this is his dream.

Dream Hannibal: No one can be fully aware of another human being unless we love them. By that love we see potential in our beloved. Through that love we allow our beloved to see their potential. Expressing that love, our beloved's potential comes true.

So, a part of Will realizes that Hannibal loves him, and that he really wants him to Become, to realize all his potential.

Will is shown as feeling bitter at Hannibal for not letting him kill Ingram.

Will: I regret what I did in the stables.

Hannibal (thinking Will means murder attempt): Then you were lucky I was there.

Will: Being lucky isn't the same as making a mistake. Mistake was allowing you to stop me.

Hannibal: So it’s not pulling the trigger that you regret. It’s not pulling it effectively.

Will: That would be more accurate.

Hannibal: I want you to close your eyes, Will, and imagine a version of events you wouldn't have regretted.

Will obeys, and he sees himself murdering Ingram. It proves that every word he says to Hannibal is true — he really does regret not killing him. But there is an even creepier dialogue ahead.

Hannibal: What did you see?

Will: A missed opportunity… to feel like I felt when I killed Garret Jacob Hobbs. To feel like I felt when I thought I killed you … a quiet sense of power.

This is disturbing. It proves once again that Will isn’t just a righteous killer, he enjoys the act of murder itself, and like many serial killers, he craves the feeling of power that comes with it.

He and Hannibal talk about the intimacy of murder, how Will was hiding behind a gun when he tried to kill Hannibal back in E5. Will takes note of it. Hannibal, remembering Will’s complaint about a missed opportunity, sends Randall to him as a gift. When Randall breaks into Will’s house, Will is shown thinking and then deliberately throwing the gun away. He doesn’t want to hide this time — he attacks Randall with his bare hands. This isn’t about self-defense or justice, this is about Will trying to experience a more intimate kind of murder. He beats Randall up until he’s incapacitated and then he snaps his neck, even though there was no reason to do it. He could easily call Jack and have Randall arrested at this point (since he was barely conscious and not fighting back). This could help him in his plan to catch Hannibal. But Will isn’t particularly concerned about it, he’s more interested in realizing his darkness.

He takes the body to Hannibal. This moment got deleted, but Will actually had to stick a note to it:

A piece of paper is pinned to his chest. On it is written: "Return to Sender."

Which excellently shows Will’s dark humor. He laughs with Hannibal a little as they talk about murder right above the corpse. Then Hannibal is treating his hands, and he says:

Hannibal: Stay with me.

Will: Where else would I go?

Nowhere — because Will understands that Hannibal is the only person who can understand his darkness and accept him for who he is.

Will: I've never felt more alive than when I was killing him.

This is, once again, huge. Will is a murderer who can get dangerously high on the act. The moment when he felt most alive is the moment when he took a life from another person — and he was vicious about it. Will is very, very dark in these scenes — and it’s going to get worse.

Will mutilates the body and places it in the museum. He keeps Randall’s suit in his house as a trophy, and he keeps his butchered parts of meat in his fridge. In the following discussion, Will confirms that he enjoyed doing all that. When Hannibal suggests that Randall’s killer felt disdain for him in front of Jack, Will disagrees.

Will: He isn't mocking him. This isn't disdain. He's commemorating him.

Hannibal: This killer has no fear for the consequences of what he's done.

Will: No guilt.

Then Will retreats into his mind to talk to Randall’s corpse.

Will: Hello again.

Randall: Come closer … Can you see you?

Will: Clearer and clearer.

This proves Will’s honesty in all his discussions with Hannibal. He really is exploring his violence, not just pretending to do it, coming to the realization of what kind of monster he is.

Will: You forced me to kill you.

Randall: I didn't force you to enjoy it.

This takes place in Will’s head, so every word is genuine.

Will: I gave you what you want. This is who you are. What you feel finally matches the reality of what I see.

Randall: This is my becoming. And yours.

Will shakes his head, this is not his becoming.

Will: This is my design.

So, what do we have here? Will calls murder, mutilation, and storage of Randall’s meat his design. It’s not his Becoming, not yet, Will isn’t ready to fully embrace himself, but this is a start. He understands his design now.

In the same E10, Will attacks Freddie when she discovered his trophies. We know he didn’t kill her, but would he have done it if she hadn’t called Jack? We can only guess. Will sure took his chance to be creepy and physically violent with her. At the end of the episode, he brought Randall’s meat to Hannibal and they cooked as well as ate it together. This was not about getting Hannibal to trust him. Hannibal already did, especially after thinking Will killed Freddie, so there was simply no need for it. Bryan Fuller confirmed Jack had no idea this happened, so Will was acting on his own, out of his genuine curiosity. This is where he willingly became a cannibal.

In E11, Will dreams of burning fake Freddie and hears himself screaming. It’s easy to interpret this dream: he feels guilty for betraying Hannibal. Alana comes by and Will is being deliberately creepy again. He gives her a gun for protection, but later, it almost becomes her undoing. Will is equally creepy during the funeral. He enjoys being dark, and he feels free to act like this because technically, he has an excuse.

In E12, Will is freshly angry at Hannibal. He fantasizes about murdering Hannibal in the most violent way possible. Then he makes three deals. The first one is with Mason: they agree to kill Hannibal together. The second one is with Hannibal: they tentatively agree to target Mason together. The third one is with Jack: they agree that when Hannibal tries to kill Mason, Will is going to arrest him. Will goes with his and Mason’s plan at first. Hannibal is kidnapped and presented in front of Will just like in his fantasy. But instead of acting on it, Will chooses Hannibal and frees him, getting all Mason’s people killed in the process. Later, he watches Hannibal mutilate Mason, approach him to kill him, and snap his neck. He does nothing: he ignores his deal with Jack completely and covers for Hannibal. Yet another proof that Will is siding with Hannibal more and more, and that his initial honey-trapping plan is almost a formality at this point. At the end of the episode, Will offers Hannibal to kill Jack.

In E13, Hannibal and Will are getting ready to kill Jack while Will and Jack are getting ready to arrest Hannibal. Will doesn’t seem to know on whose side he is until the end. At the same time, he lies to Jack about where the attack is supposed to take place. He helps Hannibal burn all evidence, even though he could have easily preserved some of it to use it later. He burns the evidence related to himself as well. Will doesn’t take Hannibal’s chance to run away before dinner, but he does hesitate and wonder about it. When the final moment comes, he calls Hannibal to warn him — he chooses him above everyone. Justice for Abigail, justice for himself, the desire to save other people — none of it matters to Will now. He made his choice, he chose his side, but he did it too late. When he goes to Hannibal’s house, Alana tells him that Jack is still inside, and Will takes out his gun. He doesn’t even try to point it at Hannibal. When Hannibal accuses him of lying, Will implies that he’s wrong.

Hannibal: I gave you a rare gift… But you didn't want it.

Will isn't so definitive.

Will: Didn't I?

Because yes, Will wanted it. He was ready to accept it. But he did so too late.

Will’s thoughts are only about Hannibal and Abigail. He breaks into Hannibal’s empty house and sits there in silence. When Alana comes to find him and tries to talk to him, he coldly sends her away. He’s repairing a boat to go after Hannibal. When Jack comes to him to ask about his motivations, Will is very open — he doesn’t care about hiding any more.

Jack: Do you remember when you decided to call Hannibal?

Will: I wasn't decided when I called him. I just called him. I deliberated while the phone rang. I decided when I heard his voice.

Jack: You told him we knew.

Will: I told him to leave. Because I wanted him to run.

Jack: Why?

Will: Because he was my friend. And because I wanted to run away with him.

In Italy, Will is full of regret over his actions. He blames himself for what happened, admonishes himself for lying to Hannibal. E2 shows his state of mind perfectly – Hannibal is his everything and he admits he wants to be with him. He doesn’t care about justice at all.

Will: I do feel closer to Hannibal here. God only knows where I would be without him … He left [me] his broken heart. He misses [me]. [I] still want to go to him? Yes.

He admires the corpse twisted into a heart, touching it and then lying at the place where it was located. He intimidates Pazzi who tries to talk sense into him and indicates that he’s not here to catch Hannibal.

Will: You couldn't catch him when he was just a kid, what makes you think you're going to catch him now?

Pazzi: You.

A small, polite scoff from Will, unable to take his eyes off the small stairwell to the catacombs.

Will: What makes you think I want to catch him?

Later:

Will: You shouldn't be down here alone.

Pazzi: I’m not alone. I'm with you.

Will: You don’t know whose side I’m on.

Pazzi stares at Will, cautious.

Pazzi: What are you going to do when you find him? Your Il Mostro?

Will: I'm curious about that myself.

Pazzi: You're already dead, aren't you?

Other people realize how dark Will is, too.

Then we move toward Will’s trip to Lithuania in E3. His reverent attitude to Hannibal begins to change once he meets Chiyoh, but he admits the following:

Will: I’ve never known myself as well as I know myself when I’m with him.

Will learns that Chiyoh has been staying here for all these years because she doesn’t want to kill another person. He notes that they can’t be sure whether her prisoner really killed Mischa because Hannibal is the only person who knows the truth. Despite all this, Will sets Chiyoh up to kill or be killed, releasing her prisoner secretly. Chiyoh rightfully accuses him of it:

Chiyoh: You said Hannibal was curious if I would kill. You were curious, too.

He was, if he is honest with himself.

What Will did was cruel and violent. Hannibal just left Chiyoh be, he openly and boldly risked her life, not caring about her safety or about whether her tortured prisoner deserves this. Will stays behind to make the body into art in Hannibal’s style, in accordance with his own design from when he killed Randall. This Will is dark and confident, and very in touch with his dark side. He dreams of killing Chiyoh and keeps asking her whether she saw what a monster she was, unable to accept the idea that only he has real darkness while Chiyoh doesn’t and that murder didn’t make her feel good. He repeats to Jack that a part of him will always want to be with Hannibal. Sadly, he then sees Bedelia as his replacement, grows even bitterer, and tries to attack Hannibal with the knife.

In E7, Will bites into Cordell’s cheek and tears a piece of meat out of it. Then he looks at Hannibal to see his reaction, waiting for his pride. He shows zero reaction to the news that Jack is alive — he doesn’t care about it. He rebukes Alana and shows that he still sees himself and Hannibal as a team, referring to them as “we”.

Will: You helped Mason Verger find us.

Alana: I helped Mason find Hannibal. We followed Bâtard-Montrachet when we should have just followed you.

Will: Almost as ugly as what Mason wants to do to us is the fact that he can do it with the tacit agreement of people sworn to uphold the law.

Alana: I was trying to get to Hannibal before you. I knew you couldn't stop yourself. So I had to try.

Will: By facilitating torture and death.

Alana: I can abide the thought of Hannibal tortured, not necessarily to death. I'd say he has it coming, wouldn't you? Or maybe you wouldn't.

Alana can no longer deny Will’s twisted morals. Will tries to push Alana to a darker side, manipulating her into releasing Hannibal, by telling her almost exactly what he and Hannibal were discussing in S2.

Will: Then you have to evolve, Alana. You have to spill blood. By your own hand or someone else's.

After the escape, Hannibal says the words that define Will perfectly:

Hannibal: You delight in wickedness and then berate yourself for the delight.

This is exactly what Will does — he acts on his darkness again and again, but then he gets scared and makes two steps back. He’s not ready to fully let go of the idea of a normal life yet.

Will sends Hannibal away. When Jack arrives, Will doesn’t even bother to pretend he tried to arrest him — he just says that Hannibal is gone. Jack clearly has zero trust in him at this point since he sends people to break into Will’s house without asking his permission. Will has completely discredited himself, proving himself as someone dark and twisted.

But Hannibal gives himself up and 3 years pass. After the epic Europe failure and his new insecurities, Will tries to retreat again. He decides to try being normal one more time, despite his previous failures at suppressing his darkness and his feelings for Hannibal. So he marries Molly, and it goes as well as expected. Their relationship is shown as weak from the start. The first time we see them, they are apart: Molly and Walter have gone fishing, which is what Will loves and dreamed of sharing with Abigail, yet he stays behind. He didn't let go of the past. He subtly manipulates Jack into talking Molly into urging him to come join the investigation — he deliberately leaves them alone under a weak excuse, knowing very well what Jack is about to do. Will is bored with his normal life and he misses Hannibal, even if he isn’t ready to fully admit it yet.

His treatment of Molly deserves a separate mention: this is the woman he lies to through his teeth, the woman whose “I love you” he doesn’t bother to return and who he doesn’t want to interact with the second she raises the topic he finds personally uncomfortable, someone he leaves her at the first opportunity. He never told her the truth about himself. The way Molly tries to joke about him having a criminal mind proves that she knows nothing of Will's dark struggles, and the way Will immediately shuts down demonstrates their incompatibility and his unwillingness to be honest and open with her.

On the very first day, Will demands to see Hannibal, lying about having to restore his mindset. We know it’s a lie because we’ve just seen him reconstruct Francis’ murder perfectly. He just wanted to see him because he missed him, and both Hannibal and later Bedelia call him out on it.

E9:

Hannibal: You just came here to look at me. Came to get the old scent again. Why don't you just smell yourself?

E10:

Bedelia: Have you been to see him?

Will: Yes.

Bedelia: Haven't learned anything, have you? Or did you just miss him that much?

This is what Hannibal says about Will’s marriage — and another reference to his darkness:

Hannibal: How did you choose yours? Readymade wife and child to serve your needs. A stepson or daughter – (off his look) – a stepson absolves you of any biological blame. You know better than to breed. Can’t pass on those terrible traits you fear the most.

This is very accurate and Will doesn’t bother to deny it. He’s more concerned about stalking Bedelia and asking her about her relationship with Hannibal than anything else. He makes zero efforts to preserve his family, which shows how irrelevant they are to him. This makes him a very cold and cruel person. Also, the way he acts with Bedelia is very different from how he acts with others. With her, he can be himself. He’s dark, relatively confident, and dangerous — which is likely why he keeps coming back to her. With others, he still puts on a rather meek mask.

There is quite a solid idea that a part of Will knew Hannibal might target Molly and Walter and send Francis after them (it’s up to interpretation, though). Hannibal gives Will very clear hints.

Will: Tell me who [the killer] is.

Hannibal: I don’t know who he is. When you close your eyes, Will... is that your family you see?

[Will scoffs at this.]

Will: Do you know who they are?

Hannibal: Yes.

Will: And you're willing to let them die.

Hannibal: They're not my family, Will. And I'm not letting them die. You are.

These are huge hints, and since Will is supposed to be an excellent profiler — more than that, a profiler who understands Hannibal intimately, it’s strange that he didn’t even suspect anything. Maybe a part of him subconsciously wanted proof that Hannibal is in love with him — since he goes to Bedelia with his question right after the attack. Maybe he wanted reassurance that the passion is still there. Maybe he even wanted an excuse to abandon Molly and Walter (and he does it very easily an episode later).

Ultimately, Will seems genuinely infuriated by the attack, but it’s possible that “the enemy inside him” secretly hoped for such outcome. He spends about a minute being truly angry at Hannibal — then he becomes concerned that he’s competing with Francis for Hannibal’s attention, which underlines the irrelevance of his family to him once more. When talking to Walter, Will doesn’t try to hug him or actually comfort him. They are like strangers, and Will shows resentment about having to explain some facts about himself to Walter later.

Will: He read about me in a Freddie Lounds article. I had to justify myself to an eleven year old.

Not “to my son”, but an indifferent and impersonal “11 year old”. Another reminder that Will is a cold person.

This attack made Will realize Hannibal is in love with him, and it finally started the process of his Becoming. Will is shown as full of resentment toward Jack and Alana. He callously sets up Chilton, an innocent person, for torture and death in E12. He explicitly says that he did it deliberately and doesn’t regret it.

Will: Damn if I'll feel … The divine punishment of the sinner mirrors the sin being punished. Chilton languished unrecognized until Hannibal the Cannibal. He wanted the world to know his face.

Bedelia: Now he doesn't have one.

At first, Will makes a half-hearted attempt at denial.

Will: I put my hand on his shoulder for authenticity.

Bedelia: To establish he really told you those insults about the Dragon? Or had you wanted to put Dr. Chilton at risk? Just a little?

Will: I wonder.

Bedelia: Do you really have to wonder?

Will: No.

Bedelia: You were curious what would happen, that's apparent. Is this what you expected?

Will sounds very ironic.

Will: I can't say I'm surprised.

Bedelia: Then you may as well have struck the match. That's participation. Hannibal Lecter does indeed have agency in the world. He has you.

Considering the timing, Chilton looks like Will’s courtship gift to Hannibal. This is the second time Will harms an innocent person, which makes him far darker than a righteous killer should be. And why? Just because. His darkness is really evolving.

When Will visits Chilton with Jack, he openly lies to him (Jack) and tells him Hannibal is responsible for what happened.

In E13, Will stages another deadly game. He plots with Francis to break Hannibal free — the immediacy of his plan makes it look like Will has already been thinking about it before. He lies to Jack and Alana. He hides the fact that Francis is alive from them, and when they discover it by themselves, he offers a plan: to use Hannibal as a bait and stage his escape. Jack begins to plan everything. If Will had actually followed this plan, it would have gotten Hannibal and Francis killed. But Will doesn’t care about justice — he wants Hannibal free and he doesn’t give a damn about the consequences. He shares his true intentions with Bedelia and threatens her.

Will: I don't intend Hannibal to be caught a second time.

Bedelia studies Will. Sensing where he might be going. Hoping she is wrong. A flicker of alarm plays in her eyes.

Bedelia: Can't live with him. Can't live without him. Is that what this is?

Will: I guess… this is my Becoming . I'd pack my bags if I were you, Bedelia. Meat's back on the menu … Ready or not… here he comes.

This is a crucial moment because while in S2, Will called Randall’s murder his design, now he’s finally Becoming. It’s the climax of everything. He leaks info about Hannibal’s transfer to Francis (who, if you recall, has attacked Will’s wife and her son). He gets many officers murdered by proxy; he sets up Jack and destroys him professionally again; he endangers Alana and her family as well as Molly and Walter. Without showing even an ounce of regret toward the dead officers, Will climbs out of the car. We don’t get to see it, but this is what he does according to the script:

Will takes the gun off the dead cop.

Still with no care, he watches how Hannibal throws another body out of the car and offers Will to take a seat. Will looks long-suffering and fond, even though he has just gotten about 5 people killed. He goes with Hannibal.

In the cliff house, he admits he’s not sure if he can “save” himself by killing Hannibal.

Will: I don't know if I can save myself. And maybe that's just fine.

He intends to try, though, but when Francis attacks, Will naturally chooses Hannibal because he can’t see him killed. He reaches for his gun and the fight begins. Seeing Francis strangling Hannibal, Will pulls out the knife from his body and rushes to protect him. He and Hannibal kill Francis together, and Will plunges the knife into him with obvious relish. Then he admires the way the blood looks on his hand.

Will: It really does look black in the moonlight.

This is proof of how Will remembers everything Hannibal has ever said to him. He reaches out to embrace Hannibal, finally allowing himself this weakness, finally accepting that this is who he is and that there is no way back.

Hannibal: See? This is all I ever wanted for you, Will. For both of us.

Will: It’s beautiful.

These words have a tremendous worth. Hannibal’s dream for them, the one he has been hoping for since early S1, has just become realized, and Will found it beautiful. The script confirms it additionally:

A moment as Will considers the brutal pack hunting he shared with Hannibal Lecter. He genuinely feels it is beautiful.

Upon this realization, Will gives the fate the last chance to stop himself and Hannibal, knowing that if they live, they’ll unleash their mutual darkness on the world. He pushes them off the cliff that has been confirmed to have no rocks by Hannibal, giving them a chance to survive. And they do — and they stay together and hunt. Will threatened Bedelia with being eaten and he kept his promise. The deleted epilogue to the series shows him and Hannibal in perfect harmony with each other.

Note that this is far from the only moments and details of Will’s long Becoming. There are many more, but if I addressed them, this meta would be even longer. However, here’s a quick analysis of Will’s softer sides — because they also aren’t as simple as it might seem at first. Will seems to sympathize only with people he can relate to personally, who remind him of himself in some way, and most often, they are murderers. He’s bitter about not being able to save killer-children in E4 because like them, he struggles with understanding what family means; he feels close to Georgia because he also thinks he’s losing his mind and no one can understand him; he’s gentle with Peter because he sees him as his fragile mirror; he’s soft with Reba because like Bryan said, they are both people in love with serial killers. With everyone else, Will is indifferent or cold. These traits were less visible in S1, but after he started to Become, they began to come to the surface. His softer sides still have a degree of selfishness to them.

So, Will has always had darkness in him. He has always been a rather cold person despite his genuine struggles, confusion, and the desire to be normal. Hannibal changed his life, helping him embrace himself and find unconditional love and acceptance. Will’s journey was very long, it had many setbacks, but in the end, he made it. They both did, and now they are free to enjoy their new life together.

Tagging some old fans who might be interested! @typicalher @hannibalized @bloodsmile @victorineb @he-s-dead-jim

#hannibal #hannigram #hannibal lecter #will graham #becoming

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