#I think this is from Blinking Eye but I'm not 100% sure

[releasing-my-insanity]

https://www.vote.org/polling-place-locator/

[kalims]

he's a ten but he...

premise. sometimes certain bad habits of theirs make their overall rating just a tad bit lower—besides the fact that they keep doing it.

characters. dorm leaders

content. gender neutral reader

malleus (doesn't have a sense of space)

"look beastie, that flower is a native of ours,"

"I agree mal, but I didn't think you taking up the entirety of my seat will make me see it better,"

he blinks, then shrugs.

like i said, has NO sense of space.

if an average person would make an excuse to constantly be in physical contact with who they admire, then malleus is the complete opposite. well, not entirely but he doesn't even bother to construct an explanation as to why he's literally sat over your seat when you coincidentally get put in a table together.

if you start questioning him about it the most you'll get in a very outright 'because he wanted to.' it's not even one of those sarcastic replies he's 100% serious!

cause he believes there's no use in lying about things to be honest.. to further emphasize that, if he ever acts like he does hold fondness for you that surpasses the platonic meter but doesn't mention it he probably hasn't realized yet.

if he did he'd already walk over and bluntly tell you about it.

(I wish I could be that unbothered.)

lilia thinks it's the cutest thing though. you swear you see flashes of light for a split second from the ceiling but when you look up there's only a suspicious swinging chandelier.

^ totally has his own album full of pictures.

if malleus ever discovers it he won't even be disturbed, probably would ask for a copy 💯

since human lives, and their bodies are so fragile he'd taken it upon himself to protect you from harm. even if it means trailing behind you everywhere way too close for comfort, or standing a bees wing away.

while he is respectful most of the time, he's encouraged if you don't comment. if anything, he seems pleased you dont seem to be bothered! (and it'll get harder to tell him to stop when he's so happy the more you let it happen..)

"child of man, have you slept?"

*starts leaning his body forward, to squint at your eyes.* practically right in front of your face.

"WTF."

not even a warning or anything! but atleast he's concerned?

idia (won't even show up for anything and insists a 'virtual' date is better.')

user: where tf r u??

ghoul666: WDYM? at the dorm?

user: IVE BEEN WAITING HERE FOR 20 MINUTES

unintentionally stood you up 💀

you literally have to tell him that you're waiting for him to arrive at the specified area you discussed where your date would take place but would end up vastly irritated when he questions if you guys even did.

ghoul666: we do??

user: I'm taking my minecraft bed away from urs.

ghoul666: NO PLS

ghoul666: HELLO????

next time you log in minecraft it's probably because he begged you to play, you WILL end up seeing some kind of structure that probably took days to make. that's not even the entire thing cause the inside is entirely decorated to your taste.

in short: he constructed some kind of venue for a wedding.. even changed his skin to wear a tuxedo 😭

though he has sparked your pettiness, hence the ignoring him period. even you have got to admit that it's freaking adorable...

big sign, emphasis on please: Im sorry pls put ur minecraft bed back I can't sleep w/o u and I have to wait entire days for it to turn into morning :(

with what he's built you're sure it's 65% true.

if you do end up forgiving him, few weeks later attempting to schedule another date will only end up in naught.

ghoul666: can we not go there

user: 😐

user: you are testing my patience love

ghoul666: 😓 (he is screeching about the term of endearment part btw KABSJAJSAJA ortho would enter his room very concerned.)

ghoul666: how abt

ghoul666: mimic together? call

user: sighs

user: I'm only agreeing cause I want to spend time with you

queue more screeching from his end that you're completely oblivious to.

the only screeching you're gonna hear though is when you guys do get into call as you play, and it's mainly out of terror when his soul gets sent to the void ascending when the entity pops out of a corner and starts chasing him.

"I GOT THIS. ILL CARRY U THIS IS FINE" *screams again* but really wants to impress you so he pushes through.

unsurprisingly does carry you.

asks to match avatars right after (idia love languange)

vil (frets over you way too much.)

"vil, did you see the chocolate in the freezer?"

"oh, that? I noticed that you've already gone through the ideal number of bars this week so I took it upon myself to make sure you don't go sick on me,"

"I love you but please give it back—"

"I love you too, and no."

disclaimer: he does this for your own good 😜 (average mom excuse.)

looks out for you more than he does for his own dorm residents. everyone is wondering where he ran off to after class, especially since he's the one that scheduled the pomefiore meeting every fridays!

and to think he was the one getting irritated over the more newer first years for being late..

*shows up literally half an hour in*

why you ask? you simply shouldn't have texted him about abandoning your daily walk together through the gardens in favor of catching sleep since you called in sick (you're suspicious if crewel really did go in to check for proof, and not concern.)

vil's really feeling the absolute regret of not checking his phone during classes.. well, he only saw the message which was coincidentally sent like somehow ONE minute after the lecture started and he's only seeing it 59 minutes later.

oh you poor thing!! though the lunch break is short, he has about 5 minutes for a trip to the mirror chamber..

you'd think the 'seen' icon below your message was a weird omen for something you're not sure but it must be doom cause vil is right at the front porch of your crappy dorm. at his own expense?! looking more disheveled than you've seen him before.

if a few stray hairs was disheveled at all. more importantly, he still looked drop dead gorgeous!

you probably looked quite terrible with the blanket draped around your shoulders looking like you just crawled out of your grave, because he looked absolutely mortified at your state.

"oh great sevens.." he looked like he was faint, huffing and fanning himself with his hand. "look at you, why didn't you tell me sooner, darling?"

you blink, swallowing to make your throat less dry but your voice still comes out raspy. "I did, like an hour ago—" without your invitation whatsoever, he steps in. promptly shutting the door behind him (which surprisingly still stands sturdy.)

vil takes a hold of your shoulders before reaching his hands upwards to tilt your face around. "you should have sent earlier," he says. you keep in the comment that you were sleeping during it, and you told him about it during second period so.. "your face is so pale."

you sigh.

"yeah, I just saw. I know, I look hideous right now."

vil frowns at you, stopping to angle your face at him. "don't ever say that. I always find you beautiful even if you are.." he glances at you from face to toe, then back up. "sickly."

"... I feel offended."

"hmph, shush now. let me draw you a bath then I know something that will boost your system."

after much coaxing in his end, you reluctantly take a warm bath in the hopefully hygienic bathroom. true to his word, vil did... concoct something. though it looked pretty the random steam that flew from it was really suspicious.

the residents don't dare to question, except rook of course. who already knew what transpired! :)

epel: 😃 (atleast vil wasn't around.)

"roi du poison~ tell me, tell me! is the trickster well? have you cured them with your love?"

"rook, you have 5 seconds to get out of my face."

rook giggles away.

kalim (thinks money will buy anything, including your forgiveness.)

"here!" there's a suspiciously bright smile on his face as he hands you.. some keys?

you deadpan, jingling it in your hands. it weighs heavy than the average, probably because of the fact that it's literally made of gold. "... kalim what is this?" you emit a sigh, from suspicion and concern.

"a gift!"

"wait why does it say lot 111--"

as you can already, that was an actual, literal house. which you imagine would probably be a lots more grand, and new compared to your old baby ramshackle.

but you do love it despite it's love for falling apart at the most inconvenient of times..

fighting with kalim was rare but it was hard to even argue with him because the notion of disagreements are so bizarre to him that he unintentionally doesn't treat you seriously with your concerns, accidentally downplaying them aaaand now you're upset.

after the ranting to jamil about how you must be busy with a lot, since you haven't even talked to him in the past 2 days. all it took was a side glance to his friend in denial and jamil immediately knew.

"what do you mean they're mad!? D:"

"just.. go apologize, I don't want to get caught up in this."

if his definition of an apology is buying you an entire house...

( ^ it is btw.)

kalim really doesn't mean any harm. he just really wants to sate whatever anger you held for him <- maybe he's overthinking it but it's kalim so he's 99% sure it's his fault! even though it hasn't even been confirmed from your end he'd probably accept it whole heartedly.

he wanted you to talk to him again so badly that he wouldn’t mind showering you with houses... since your living situation doesn't live up to your kindness (sorry ramshackle love u xx)

you know what. he wouldn't even notice he's the reason you're upset at first even though he's been asking around on who put you in that mood. despite himself being the perpetrator but he didn't really know that did he?

the only reason he does is because he assumed you were just because you avoided him like some sort of.. cockroach! (he dislikes those.) and he couldn't take it anymore.

was probably 1 sec away from barging into your dorm which wouldn't take a lot of effort since one ram to the door would probably break it.

bless jamil for jailing all the carpets so kalim doesn't find them.

even if said carpets fling him off when he's riding them.

"kalim, why would you buy a literal house... and you also got a rare address paid--"

"for them! ;D"

"... you do know they'd be more offended by the fact that you'd try to replace that.., ahem. dorm, right?"

"oh... should I buy them a vehicle then?"

you only promise to forgive him once he takes back the keys, and the house entirely...

(grim begged you to keep it, 'house for him apparently.')

azul (keeps trying to offer you discounts thinking it's a good excuse to have you over.)

"I assure you. you'll find no deal better than this."

"I'm not even that hungry for sea food, actually I'm craving some--"

"you're in luck then! ahem, it's 26% off due to a special event for today."

pro tip: keep insisting to eat at other places cause he's gonna keep increasing the discount by 2% until you eventually relent. once, you made him go to the point of 75% off, it's almost hilarious if not for the fact it only worked once.

now he won't go last 50!

ahem. if you look closely you can almost spot tiny cracks accumulating with each denial you respond with, and each increase of his discount. he's grown to be wary about the bullshit 'lucky' promos you just happen to stumble on.

last time you did he practically lost a week's worth of the presumed income he's predicted cause you actually went around and told your first year friends about it... who.. in turn told some, other friends of theirs about it and you could guess.

love must hurt.. and unfortunately it's his wallet wailing.

but azul is not so easily swayed by this! for you have swayed him first! *wink wonk*

but azul has another trick up his sleeve... keeping on roping jade and floyd into it; whom are far too enthusiastic cause finally— something fun to do! someone to bother! not only have you got the most stubborn octopus having frequent suspicious 'deals' but here are his equally suspicious lackeys.

who keeps.. talking about fried octopus..

yeah, you're not sure if preaching about azul’s species is the job they were assigned.

they're fairly easy to point in the right direction anyways. the tweels have always associated you with the word 'fun' so just a little, friendly suggestion from and they were off to their merry way. mortifying every single person you come across with their sudden attachment.

one of their tricks? following you around. and just somehow, every single place you enter is just mysteriously full even though you peered inside and there was like 7 tables empty. what are they hosting? ghosts? spirits?

...

they do look like they've seen some though..

jade rn: "a shame indeed, you must be hungry. why don't we escort you back to monstro lounge?" :)

long story short you can't even reply cause the sleek eel is already guiding you around by the use of his hands on your shoulders. just to make sure you don't stray away from the destination, he says.

"didn't you say that yesterday's promo was like, a one day thing?" you quirk a brow, and you almost fool yourself into thinking he flinched.

azul clears his throat. "well—today is.. the month before you've graced octavinelle with your assistance—"

he praises himself for his quick thinking.

COME ON! it doesn't matter if you're sick of eating stir fried shrimp, or the butter one, or every single dish they serve that includes shrimp! (also do not mention that you ate somewhere else before you just decide to visit his dorm because that establishment just mysteriously got filed a non-legal business report.)

then you've got floyd chasing you around with a fork. which is more terrifying because he's holding it in a notion that would seem like he'd just stab down at you when he catches up with your little goose chase.

it's just.. you're not sure if your stomach could take another bite of the poor food he stabbed into, and is now chasing you around with.

you screech. "JADE PLEASE."

the man shrugs. "it's a free taste."

"AZUL."

"... only on a condition of course."

frankly. it took all the balls he had to actually sputter out the most simplest sentence ever, cause during the time he rehearsed that in front of his mirror it just plagued him with embarrassment but he's getting desperate.

'I'd like to take you out to dinner, somewhere else of course.'

actually, maybe obliterating any possible craving for the food of his lounge just might've been part of his plans to ask you out..?

leona (prevents you from actually being productive via dragging you down to 'nap' every. single. time.)

"I will literally fail if you don't let go of me right now."

"hmph. so what? it's not like failing a grade killed anyone."

"leona just because you've lived through a lot of fails doesn't mean I have to, we're not all rich enough to not finish school."

to which he'd retaliate that all you'd need is to marry him and you'd be set for life.

there is no winning an argument with leona when it comes to his naps. if he states that you're to be next to him as he sleeps, its final. no buts, no retaliations, cause apparently they're all invalid according to him even if you drag him to court.

rhetorically of course, that if its a comical court scene his only statements are; 'well you're wrong', 'who cares', and 'i dont care'. one way or another he's still gonna win you over and now you're fit snugly in his arms, lamenting.

and if crowley chastises you for not doing the errands (via leona's common interference.) the only thing you need to honestly do is to complain to leona about it and suddenly crowley has the kindness to forgive you for your 'laziness' then says something about enjoying your time together?

leona's work no doubt.

you suppose he does has its perks. even if most of it isn't exactly ideal.

if you're being smart then you should give him an ultimatum or something, or bribe him. but... that really has no guarantee to work either cause you're ending up defeated, or just defeated and flustered since he's somehow unconsciously flirty.

at the end of the day you can't really hate him cause the following day you find out he sent an already sleep deprived ruggie to do your work. 'so you can shut your fussing up and let me enjoy you.' he says, and you quote.

it goes something like;

"if i finish my work i'll stick by you all day."

a stready flow of confidence keeps your voice firm as you glower down at the blank-faced leona sat on the grass. he merely tilts his head, raising a brow at you and seemingly pondering from the way his eyes fly to the sky.

you'd think that maybe your plan actually worked but he merely grunts and flops backwards, holding the back of his head with his palms as he laid. and! he ignores you.

...this little greedy man... "why should i care whether or not you finish your work?" he huffs, like the evil, arrogant spawn he is but you can't really defend yourself cause said evil spawn bewitched you so much that you actually still like him.

"because you care about me?"

"...fine," he scowls, releasing a breath you'd mistake for irritation. "then, do you really think i need you to finish your work when i can just keep you right here?"

you sulk. "i'll do anything you want?"

he deadpans as if you said something stupid. "i don't need you to anything else but sit still and be pretty."

...

...

see what i mean about him eventually winning you over? yeah.

next morning there's a rebellion in savanaclaw about overworked residents and ruggie is the head of them.

"he said that he doesn't need you today." <- ruggie, steering you away.

"really?" <- you, confused

riddle (overthinks TOO HARD.)

“I'm just a little busy.”

“I understand,” riddle says.

“I'm just a little busy.” he understands.

“a little busy.” its just… a small thought…

“I'm just busy.” his mind is a hazard at this point. 

for someone as supposedly maintained as riddle—you'd think his mind is as composed as it is organized. like the pens you'd perfectly align in correlation to order of colors, or the neat pile of clothing folded neatly, tucked in some corner in your closet that is farther in since it's used less.

that's just how he is, or at least seems to be. a bundle of organized thoughts, every thought connected to another. a mind too clean to be going on haywire (when he isn't in a particular mood, that is.)

you're just busy. he thinks. you said it yourself, with that agonizingly nice smile that must be sprinkled with some kind of spell from the way it just eradicated all the protests in his throat upon sight. he isn't one to question it, he wants to help but not if you don't ask.

he can only stare with resigned acceptance at your insomnia induced eyes.

but when the curtain of darkness befalls night raven college, even in the comfort of heartslabyul is he still thinking about that thought–and he can’t help but wonder; why exactly are you busy? its not that he’s suddenly hyper aware of your lack of presence since you’ve been attached to the hip the previous week and now you’re just.

…busy…

riddle likes to think of himself as a level-headed, private person. like the boy he raised himself to be and therefore proud of. but its way past 10AM. which is usually the time he sleeps, and let me tell you that he’s never once broke the cycle for years. yet here he is, a frown of frustration present on his face as he wills his mind to sleep.

somehow closing his eyes felt forced, he immediately snapped them open once his mind decides to conjure an image of you even in the darkness his lids offers.

“THIS IS ABSURD.”

and the yell promptly woke up the entire dorm from the ferocity of his scream. (and of course gave them the flashback of their year.)

that night was one of the worst he’s ever had because he woke up with red rimmed eyes and a pounding headache that ensured his bad mood the rest of the day.

everyone noted to steer clear.

and he unknowingly steered clear of yours since you were ‘busy.’

“why are you sulking?” a voice queried, spoken as though they were eating something as they asked. a reprimand rises in his throat, but it all just dies down once his sharp eyes settle on you, slipping into the seat in front of him then raising a brow and the traces of irritation practically evaporates from his eyes.

he feels the need to cough–so he does. “i’m– i’m not.” he clears his throat, avoiding your eyes but still sneaking in glances, something he notes is that you’re still looking everytime he does. (and boring an unimpressed face because he knows you don’t believe him at all.)

guilt rises in his mind, because he feels a slither of annoyance and its the presence of pettiness that bothers him. riddle knows you’re not at fault, just his mind at convincing that you just somehow decided in the span of a day that you might not like him anymore–so he can’t help the bite. 

“why are you here?” a glance not intended to look mean.

“i thought you were busy.” he adds.

your brows raise, he spots your teeth holding your lips back from showing your grin and he feels warm. “what?” he hisses defensively, despite you not even having replied to him yet.

he leans backwards, straightening up in his seat when your chin leans forward, resting on your intertwined fingers. you flash him a smile. 

“mr. rosehearts, are you perhaps… sulking because i’m busy?”

“no!”

silence.

“no.” he repeats, weaker.

“well,” you continue, beaming. “i heard from ace that you were awake the entire night, and that you kept him awake too. are you alright?” 

he sputters. “it wasn’t because of you!”

you snort. “i didn’t even say anything about me.”

so you incline to following riddle around, poking fun at him and still trailing after the seemingly enraged red head because despite his angry protests, demanding you to go away because you’re annoying he keeps glancing back to see if you’ll follow,

so cute…….

[romana-after-dark]

Keep Running, Little Bunny!

Dark!Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Masterlist

Buy Me A Coffee : Kofi : Go Fund Me

Summary: Logan takes you, but gives you a chance to escape... what isn't he telling you?

Warnings: NON CON DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!! Logan is a masochist and a bit of a sadist but def more into the pain. Feral!Logan, primal kink, THIS IS NON NON, READER AND LOGAN GET SLICED UP! I'm not listing everything here, just please read with caution! Physical and sexual violence! Somno!

Immersivity: Reader is fem, afab, able bodied

A/N: first time writing Logan!!! Im obssed with him after deadpool wolverine but the only other Wolverine movie ive seen was that really bad one in like japan or something lmfao. I do wanna watch them all now (Oscar Isaac is in apocalypse!) This may not be the most correct but I'm trying. Lemme know if you wan more Logan!

Divider by @xxbimbobunnyxx

Im late but I wanted to do the manspreading for the manspreading olympics by @toxicanonymity

"You're a hard girl to get a hold of, princess."

Logan is sitting across from the bed you've woken up in, in a chair with his legs spread wide. You can see the bulge in his pants from how he touched you, caressing your sleeping body as you slowly woke up from whatever you were given. His hands slid up your loose shorts, a single finger slipping in and out of your hole, making sure the first words you woke up to were, "Are you always this wet?" with his hot breath fluttering on your skin.

Slowly, the memories began to come to you: how you fought and kicked and screamed as Logan tried to drag you away, him shoving the chloroformed rag in your mouth until you passed out gagging... 

Now here you were, watching him as he palmed his hardness in front of you.

"i thought X-men were good guys." You spit, arms crossed over your chest as you watch him touch himself.

He shrugs with a little smirk on the right side of his face. "I wouldn't call myself a good guy. Never have. Saving the world is one thing... but I think I'm owed a little something on the side."

You laugh at that, a bark of a laugh that signals the disbelief that he's actually speaking to you right now, saying such things. "I don't owe you shit!"

"Maybe not. Doesn't matter though, because I'm gonna let you go." Logan groans, stroking a long, hard drag down the line of his cock in his pants.

This makes you narrow your eyes, suspicious. "What do you mean?"

"I'm gonna let you go. Gonna let you make a run for it. Here." He tosses a knife to the bed, making you flinch but then you quickly grab it, eyeing him. He's still touching himself, but with an agonized sigh he lets go. You wonder if he was close... Logan stands up, opening the door to the small, one room cabin and letting you see the trees outside. "Half a mile west there's a road. Not used a whole lot but someone is bound to come by, pick you up. I'll give you a head start, and you can use that knife on me. You can kill me if you try hard enough. Little fighter like you, might even be able to get the slip on me."

You blink. This can't be real. "This is a trick, isn't it... you're gonna punish me for running, or, or for stabbing you..."

Logan shakes his head, gesturing out to where the sun was setting fast. "Nope, won't punish you for that. Just like a challenge, that's all."

"There's... there a catch, isn't there... something you aren't telling me."

For a moment his face is still, like he's trying to put on a poker face. Then, a smile breaks. "I've never been a good lair. yeah, there's something I'm not tell'n yuh, bub, but really, what choice do you have?"

As you rise from the bed, he stands back. You hold out the knife, and he keeps his hands up, palms towards you... his face was almost condescending... but what choice did you have. Once you back away several steps, you turn around and make a run for it. You weren't exactly sure his powers, but given his name was wolverine you were fairly certain speed was one of them.

"I'll count down from 100!" Logan calls after you, his voice starting to sound distant. "100... 99...98... keep running little bunny! 97... 96..."  You faintly hear the 95 before you're out of earshot, running as fast as your legs can take you through the woods. Jumping over logs and stumbling down hills, you run more than you have since your high school made you do a mile, your out of shape body struggling to take in oxygen. Tree branches smacked your face, leaves wet with dew, the little sticks drawing blood on your cheek but you don't dare stop, not for a second. 

Something zooms past you nearby, a rustling of bushes an the faint sound of '10' in your ear, before all goes still again. You're close, you have to be.

'5'

Shit, shit. You grip the knife in your fist as you try to pick up speed, tired legs carrying you as fast as they'll go but it's not enough.

Logan is in front of you, a broad smile on his face and hands gripping your shoulders to stop you. "One." 

You scream, stabbing him in the rib cage expecting him to shout in pain but instead he moans in pleasure. No time to process this, you kick him in the dick and shove him over, making a run for it again, but Logan grabs your foot, causing you to fall face first into the dirt and grass. Strong arms yank you, despite crawling as nothing, and suddenly you are under him. 

"No!" You try to get away, but he's too strong, too quick, pinning your hands down and he looms over you.

"Pretty little bunny... running so fast..." Logan cocks his head to the side. "Not quite fast enough, eh?" Leaning down, Logan licks a stripe up your cheek, tasting the blood on your face. "Tasty little bunny..."

Your hand with the knife continues to be pinned down, Logan bracing his entire weight on your wrist while he undoes his pants, freeing his cock from the restraints. The throbbing member lay heavy against your thigh, a size you can only guess from the feeling and for a moment you think he's going to take off your shorts the same way. Then, Logan placed his knuckles at the base of your shorts and suddenly there's a stinging, sharp pain running up your leg and to your waist.

"Fuck!!!" No one is around to hear you screaming, no one except Logan who thrust his fist out, tearing your shorts and underwear to literal shreds.

When cock is thrust into you, you can't even scream anymore as the sounds get lodged into your throat, trapped in there just as you are now, his body caging you.

"Fuck'n tight there, princess. Is that fear, or is that all you?" You respond with a slap to his face which only makes him fuck you harder. "Aha, I think that's all you, baby doll, you were soaking my fingers earlier. Creamy little pussy ready to squirt on a strangers hands."

"FUCK YOU!"

"You want me dead?"

"Yes!"

He releases your sore hand, but the knife still lays next to it. "Take your shot, why dontcha?"

Thinking fast, you grab the handle again and with a scream, you plunge it into his neck.

To your surprise he just grins broadly. What the fuck is wrong with him.

Again, again, again, you stab the knife into different parts of his body as he stabs between your legs, fucking with more more intensity, with loud moans, closer and closer to his release. His gruff pants in your ear mirror your screams, listening to Logan moan and groan and whimper as he ravages your helpless body when you realize... he likes it. He likes it and the wounds are healing as fast as you can cut him. 

"Pretty bunny..." He chuckles lowly, his hand gripping your sides so hard it feels like a pinch, your fragile non-mutant body nothing but a plaything for him. With a loud growl, Logan cums inside you, filling you up as he continues to fuck him cum inside you, streams of hot cum flooding inside you. How was he still hard? Movements begin to slow, but your exhaustion begins to take it's toll on you, giving up harming him and simply taking it. "That's it... that's my good girl. Give in to me, little bunny. Let me have you... I can make it so good." Logan thrusts up into you, hitting something so devastating and deep no one has before, his rough hand sliding to your center to caress your bud.

"I don't want it to be good..." You cry weakly, even as pleasure builds down in you.

"Sure yuh do... c'mon, pretty girl you can give it to me... don't fight it, it's useless. You're mine now, my bunny... cum for me..." Logan's demeanor changes, suddenly indulgent and begging, his facial hair tickling your skin as he nuzzles your neck. "Wanna feel it... Wanna feel my sweet bunny coming on my cock... becoming mine..." You can't fight it anymore, the thick stretch on him, his skilled hands, the sleepiness clouding your rational... and he feels it too. "There we go... that's my girl, all mine, huh? You're mine now my pet... yeah... all mine..." It was painfully delicious, the way he made you feel, how his hands seemed to know you so intimately... 

Then that chloroformed clothe was on your mouth again, his cock still buried hard inside you. You didn't fight this time, letting the release of sleep take you. 

Slowly, Logan began to grind his hips into your body again, his hands claw extending again as they slipped under your shirt. No cuts this time, only a few nicks before he shredded your shirt now, leaving you in tattered clothes as he felt you up. Logan's mouth was at your ear. "Can't have you fighting me this time, little bunny. I'm gonna get to know this sweet body, I'm gonna lean everything it likes..." He cups your breasts, tweaking at a bare nipple. "Gonna take good care of you."

As you fall asleep, you can hear a car driving nearby.

THANK YOU!!!!!

I am so excited to try out a new character!!!!!!

Unfortunetly, after I made the go fund me listed above my car's fucking starter went bad ;-; that'll be like $800. I'm struggling to get by. Please please pease consider making a donation or donating o my ko-fi or biy me a coffee all linked above!. If not, thats totally okay! Theres no presure.

If you are inclinded, please consider reblogging this post with my go fund me.

Likes, comments and reblogs are sooooo appriciated!!!

I knew I'm new to logan but if you like OScar Isaac or Pedro PAscal characters, consider checking out my other work!! thanks!!!

Tagging those who expressed interest or who i thought might like?

No presure if its not your thing! Comment if you want more dark logan!

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @reveric @wolverineswaifu @birbita @multiversed-daydreamer

love yuh!

[solxamber]

I just think the tweels reaction to a short, stronger than one would assume magicless prefect reader being strong enough to be able to suplex or princess carry them would be funny, write this if you wanna or not, i just think it could be funny, have a good day!

Headcanons probably best for the thought i assume

Floyd Leech, Jade Leech with a strong reader

I'm not very good with headcanon format so I hope you like this

Floyd Leech

Floyd Leech is 100% not expecting it. One minute, he's towering over you, leaning in with that sharky grin of his, ready to mess with you as usual. Then, in the next moment, he’s upside down, staring at the ceiling as you effortlessly hoist him into the air like a sack of potatoes. The entire dorm goes silent, mouths hanging open.

“Shrimpy—WHOA?!”

You suplex him so smoothly that even Floyd, who usually loves chaos, is completely thrown off (literally and figuratively). He hits the ground with a thud, but instead of being upset, his eyes are sparkling like you’ve just given him the best gift in the world. He scrambles to his feet, laughing like a madman.

“Hahahaha! You suplexed me! That was amazing! Do it again, Shrimpy! Come on, come on, one more time!” He’s bouncing around you, more excited than a kid at a theme park, while you're just standing there, dusting your hands off like it’s no big deal.

It takes a minute before you realize that this was the worst thing you could have done, because now Floyd’s going to pester you non-stop. He’s hyped, literally begging for you to throw him around like some kind of wrestling toy.

“So strong! I wanna see how far you can toss me next time! Maybe over the pool, yeah?!"

Great. Now you’ve created a monster.

Jade Leech

Now, for Jade, it's a different kind of shock.

Jade is much more composed. At least, he tries to be.

You offer to carry him—he humors you, probably thinking you’ll struggle with it. But instead, you scoop him up into a perfect princess carry. Jade freezes. The usually poised and calm eelman, who’s used to having everything under control, suddenly finds himself being cradled in your arms.

His eyes widen ever so slightly, but he quickly tries to recover, though the surprise is still evident. “Oh my... this is certainly... unexpected.”

Jade, for once, is at a loss for words, blinking at you like he's processing a particularly strange specimen of mushroom. Meanwhile, you're just holding him like it’s no big deal.

“Comfortable up there?” you ask with a smirk.

Jade’s lips twitch into the smallest of smiles as he adjusts his glasses, trying to play it off coolly. “I must admit, I did not foresee this turn of events. You certainly are... stronger than you appear.”

But you can tell he’s internally screaming. The facade of calmness slips for just a second as his cheeks tinge ever so slightly pink—whether from the embarrassment or sheer amusement, you're not sure.

“Perhaps... we should keep this between us, yes?” he suggests with a laugh, clearly amused but not entirely keen on Floyd—or worse, Azul—finding out that he was princess-carried across the room.

But deep down? Oh, he’s impressed. And probably already thinking of how to use your newfound strength to his advantage.

Masterlist

[slushycoookie]

Kissing Practice ~ Miguel O'Hara × Spider AFAB! Reader +18!!

A/N: Had this short idea late at night so enjoy this little somn somn. ALSO, thank you for the 100 followers!!! I'm happy you all really like my stuff. <3 (Ignore the format, I'm trying out different stuff).

Miguel froze, staring at you as the question you asked him replayed in his mind.

You wanted to practice kissing…on him. Out of all those days he spent pining on you, admiring you from afar, you go ahead and ask him this. He couldn’t believe it. He must be dreaming.

“I’m sorry…repeat that again.” He asked you, wanting to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

You rolled your eyes. “You heard me. I want you to help me practice kissing. For a guy I like.”

His shoulders deflated at that last sentence. Of course you weren’t asking to kiss him because you liked him. It was for someone else you liked. Not him.

“Why are you asking me?” He turned his back to you, pretending to go back to work and not be bothered by the pang in his chest.

“Because you’re my friend.” You maneuvered to get a good look at him, not wanting to be shut out. “And friends help each other with stuff.”

Miguel scoffed, the sound almost turning into a laugh. “Friends don’t ask other friends if they could practice kissing one another.”

“Not true.” You retorted, putting up a finger for emphasis, “Teenagers ask their friends all the time to help practice kissing.”

“We’re adults. Not teenagers.”

“I know. That means we’ll be more mature about it.”

His muscles tensed in slight annoyance. Your logic was terrible and didn’t make any sense at all. After all, why were you asking him out of all people? There were plenty of other spider people around your age you could run to. So why him?

As the lab was silent, you peered your face around to meet his eyes. “Come on. I wouldn’t ask anyone else.” He felt his shoulder getting poked by your finger. “I always think I don’t kiss that well. And I wanna get better at that. You seem like you have some experience…”

Miguel shut his eyes as he thought for a moment. This would get really bad fast if he didn't have any self-control. He always pictured kissing you, just not in these circumstances. But you were asking him. And you two were great friends. That’s exactly what he was doing. Helping out a friend.

“Fine.” His heart flipped at your squeal with joy, “Let’s do it now.”

You stopped at that, looking around as if anyone else heard him. “Right now?” He nodded. You weren’t expecting that response. Or for him to say yes. So you dug into the pocket of your spider suit, digging for something you said was very important. Your lip balm. The same one he’s watched you put on many times. How the red-colored product glided along your full lips. Adding a red tint to them. He had to resist staring at you directly, folding his arms as you smacked your lips.

“Okay. I’m ready.” You stood close to him, a small smile on your face. Your eyes were closed, lips puckered up and ready for a kiss. He stepped closer. Ignoring how the soft feeling of your body was against his. Miguel licked his dry lips before leaning down and pressing a small peck on your own. Hints of strawberry lingered around his nose while you blinked in question.

“Really? That’s it?”

“Yes. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

You sucked your teeth, “I said kiss, Miguel. Full on lip action. Not a little baby kiss.”

“That was a peck. Not a baby kiss.” He argued back, running his hand across his face.

“You heard what I said right? How am I going to learn from a peck?”

Miguel shook his head, stepping back into your space and placing a firm hand on your lower back. You were fully flushed against him as his other hand cradled your cheek. He leaned in and kissed you like you wanted. It was slow and gentle as he wanted to savor how you felt against his own lips. Kissing you like this was like the last time he was able to.

When he pulled away, your face was flushed. The red tint from your lip balm was a little faded, he was sure there was some on his lips. But he wanted to kiss you again.

“H-How was that?” You asked after clearing your throat.

Miguel shrugged, “You could be better.” Inside, you did perfectly. He didn’t understand why you needed practice in the first place. “We should keep practicing so you can get better.”

“Okay.” You nodded in agreement, “How does tomorrow sound?”

He had to hold himself back from smiling, “Tomorrow sounds great.”

Everyday he set some time for you to come into his lab and kiss him. It was only for ten minutes. Ten minutes of holding you close, enjoying your soft lips against his own. And then pulling away as if nothing happened.

There were times when you wanted to switch it up. Add tongue or a bite on the lip. Miguel was happy to oblige as you allowed his tongue to slip in, gliding along your own with fervor. Giving a gentle nip to your bottom lip whenever he pulled away. He took note of the sounds you made each time you kissed. And there were times he got carried away, his groans mixing in with your moans. And it took all the strength he had to not take it further. Because this was for someone else you liked.

“What about during sex?”

He almost choked on his cold coffee, “What? What do you mean?”

“You know, kissing during sex? I was never good at that either.”

Miguel’s talons were digging into the console. You weren’t suggesting…?

“You want to kiss during sex?” You nodded quickly and he took a deep breath. “That’s not…You should ask somebody else…”

You waved him away, “It’s just kissing during sex. No big deal.”

“It’s a very big deal.” He was over you again, chest heaving. But Miguel wasn’t angry. The complete opposite. He was making sure that you really wanted to do that with him. Be completely intimate. You didn’t back down, taking this entire conversation casually.

“There’s no one I’d rather do it with.”

Miguel’s lips rarely left yours. Not as he peeled your clothes away from you at his apartment. Placing you on the bed as if you were delicate. Even as he thrusted into you. Feeling your walls stretch around him as he kissed you with infatuation. He took everything from you. Your pleasant cries drowned against his embrace. He was determined to show you that the person you did like should be doing this to you. Not anyone else. Not even him.

He was emotional as he sat on the end of his bed. Miguel knew you all shouldn’t do this again. Especially after you tell this guy that you like him. He wondered who it could be. Who stole your heart before he could?

You shifted against him; eyes lowered in satisfaction. He stared at you as if you were in a dream. Someone he couldn’t get enough of.

“Miguel?” He hummed when you called, wondering what you needed. “You’re the guy I like.”

[cythena]

JUST FRIENDS

ꨄ︎ synopsis . satoru told your parents you were "just friends" then proceeded to dick you down in your bedroom

warnings . fwb, porn with no plot, protected sex this time, almost getting caught, multiple orgasms, teasing, slight degradation, gojo has is attached, reader's feelings are ambiguous

word count . 0.8k words

notes . 100 posts yippee

"no don't worry, we're just friends," with an emphasis on that part.

satoru was a liar through and through and he'd be caught in a huge one if anyone were to catch you two right now. his broad shoulders covered your own as he dug his nails into your waist. his other hand pushed your back into the perfect arch for him. his strong thighs slammed against your ass, forming ripples for him to admire. you gripped onto the pillow that you sank your teeth into, soaking it with spit and muffling moans of your friend's name. he also tucked his shirt between his teeth to quiet himself.

"shiiiittt," satoru cursed into his shirt. he let it fall out of his mouth. "barely even touched you 'n you're soaking. should've done this way fuckin' sooner, y'know."

"t-toru! i- ngh—" your pretty voice slipped off into a whimper. satoru grinned at how mindless you became. your brain fried from his cock pounding into you. mascara dripped from your eyes onto your pillow now smearing from your watery eyes. you'd surely have to throw it away or maybe satoru could keep it.

it'd be a nice memorabilia. y'know, finally getting to fuck the girl he's been into since he met her. it needed to be framed, never forgotten. not that he could forget this if he tried. he already ingrained the feeling of your cunt around him and the sound of your moans.

"it's okay, pretty, don't need ya to speak. you're doing so good for me," he teased. you could hear your parents walking through the hallway but he didn't slow down. "you hear that-"

"y/n?" your mother called. satoru wrapped his hand underneath your chin and pulled your face up. he urged you to respond, squishing your doughy cheeks and pulling at your swollen lip. you blinked into to focus enough to reply.

"yes mom?" you bit your lip hard.

"pizza's here. you and gojo can come down wherever."

satoru sighed mentally, relieved that she had no reason to open the door. he gave you a particularly hard thrust. one that sent you over the edge just as you were giving your final reply to your mother. your juices spilled all over satoru's cock and dripped down to your bedsheets.

"yeah be down— ngh! in a sec!" you hurried your words before burying your face back into your pillow.

satoru leaned down next to your ear. he dipped his fingers down to your clit where he rubbed delicate circles. his sultry voice soaking you further with a soft chuckle, "naughty girl . . . you came while talking. didn't think you could be so slutty, all for me."

you let out of muffled sob into your pillow. "y-you're such a— fucking b-bully satoru," you hissed. his length continued hitting you in all the right places. he knew he was a bully but you didn't mind at all. you could feel every detail sliding against your walls and going so deep into your guts that you were sure you could taste him.

"i know it doesn't bother you. can feel you squeezing down on me. wanna cum on my cock again, pretty?"

you frantically nodded. your body writhe under the cool palm he dragged over your back and pushed your shoulders down with. you reached a hand back. your brain was overridden with pleasure and you grabbed onto nothing until satoru linked his hand with yours.

"oh fuck fuck fuck toru! i'm cumming!" you gasped so loud you slapped your hand over your mouth.

holding hands while you came on his cock again? how romantic, he thought. it made his head dizzy and his heart pound. he felt his cock twitch inside of you. he held you tighter while his pulsating cock spurted out warm ropes of cum. his eyes shut in bliss as he sighed.

"mhmm, so good . . . you're so perfect f'me."

he rocked his hips steadily before he pulled out. he sank to a sitting position where he carefully removed his condom then tied it and tossed it into the trash. he helped clean your smudged makeup and even replace your pillowcase. he brought you a new shirt to throw on.

"lie down with me," he whined. he wrapped his arms around you and held you close to his chest. he nuzzled his face in your neck.

you gently pushed away from him but it was futile. you sighed and let him hold you. "what are you doing satoru? we have to go downstairs," you reminded him.

"come on it's just an innocent nap . . . as friends." friends is what satoru decided to call you. it's what you were and he was okay with it being just that as long as he got to hold you like this.

[r0se1111]

actually getting a physical reaction to reading your reader x ford fics so here's an idea i had, do with it what you want :) reader works at the shack and is close friends with stan (i just know that man flirts with everyone, including reader). when they meet ford, they immediately develop a massive crush, cause who wouldn't but ford reads the friendship they have with stan wrong and thinks he doesn't have a chance and gets jealous of their banter/flirting… brb twirling my hair

Your mind... thank you <3

Working at the Mystery Shack really isn't all that bad. You had quickly formed a friendship with the owner, an eccentric conman named Stan. Sure, the pay isn't the best and sure, Stan flirts with you an almost obnoxious amount, but you would be remiss to say you didn't find comfort and even joy in this little situation. Is it a bit pathetic to say your boss is your best friend? Maybe, but Stan's jokes meet your own sarcastic quips with perfect compatibility. So much so that quite a few people have assumed the two of you were an item. Normally this conclusion wouldn't bother you, after all you guys are pretty comfortable with each other. And it keeps any creepy tourists from hitting on you when Stan's arm makes its way around your shoulder and a fond "toots" leaves his lips.

Normally, this wouldn't bother you. But things haven't been... normal as of late. Stan, as it turns out, has a twin brother. Now, you have always been able to admit that Stan was attractive in his own rugged, girdle-wearing way. But this Ford guy? Tussled hair, broad shoulders hidden under layers of sweaters, and an achingly cute smile? Sorry Stan you try not to gape as Ford introduces himself to you, this guy is more my type.

Now the banter you normally find yourself looking to with Stan feels a bit awkward as you're painfully aware of his brother's presence. You so desperately want to yell at him "Hey! I'm actually super single and super not dating your brother and super into you!" But, being the mature (ish) adult you are, you choose to forgo the dramatic love confession and instead focus your efforts on evading Stan's ever-present touching and joking.

You squint critically at the sale tags Stan has instructed you to place on some old t-shirts in the gift shop. "Take 90% off? Geez Stan, why don't we just let them take 100% off, the poor tourists are paying too much for this place anyways."

"I can tell you what I do wanna take 100% off, and it's not the price of those shirts." Stan grins widely and his hip jostles you a few times. "Get it? It's- it's your shirt. That I wanna take 100% off."

You scoffed and hid your grin as you shoved away his nudges. You were about to retort with your own witty remark when you turned and came face to face with Ford. His face was flushed, and his widened eyes darted between you and Stan before zeroing in on where Stan had begun to tug at the hem of your shirt playfully. You stuttered and slapped your friend's teasing fingers from your clothing.

"Ford!" You could feel warmth seeping up your collar and onto your cheeks. God. Did he hear all of that?

"Y/N. Stan." He blinked at you both and you noticed his hands clench at his sides. "I see I've interrupted something... I should go."

Panic wells in your stomach and quickly floods into your throat, making you nearly mute as you flounder for something to say. Luckily, Stan speaks up before you could choke out some half-assed excuse as to why he should stay.

"Awh c'mon, you're missing all the fun. See how red she gets?" He curls his arm around your shoulder to reach around and poke your cheek in a familiar gesture for you two. This was your routine: banter, tease, someone gets flustered (normally you), tease about said flustering, and so on. How fun! However, any possible fun is overshadowed as you feel painfully aware of his this must look to the man standing in front of you.

Ford looks almost... hurt? Disappointed? Before that mystery emotion flashes into something much more defensive as he silently watches your exchange.

You grit your teeth and eye your friend. "Stan."

"What's the matter toots? Don't say I hurt your feelings." He tilts his head to look at you in faux-pleading. "Oh c'mon baby I really didn't mean to!" Stan's dramatic little performance is completed with a bat of his eyelashes and a pout of his lip that makes you audibly groan.

"Listen, I-"

"Well I should really-"

You and Ford interrupt each other in your attempts to escape this awkward situation. Finally, after one last glance at where Stan's arm has pressed into you, Ford gave a little tight smile and walked past you.

One he's out of earshot, you nearly flip Stan over in an attempt to dislodge yourself from him. "What the hell was that?"

The man blinks before quirking a crooked, unsure smile at you. "What? I can't mess around with my best pal?"

"Not in front of him!"

"Him?"

"Ford! Your brother!" You throw your hands up in an explosion of frustration before they meet pressed to your temples as you grumble.

Stan seems to be catching up with your crisis, although he still looks at you like you're a crazy person. "My brother. Ford." He stares at you for a moment before you see the wild mischief enter his eyes.

"Don't."

"You wanna bone old poindexter! You perv!" He cackles and elbows you with a wiggle of his eyebrows. "You gonna be my sister-in-law?"

You nearly trip over your own feet in an attempt to shut him up. He's my best friend. You remind yourself. People don't strangle their best friends. "Don't be so crude! Yes, I like him. But he probably thinks we're together!"

Stan's laughter cuts off as he all but wrinkles his nose at your words. "Why would he think that?"

Overwhelmed with your friend's obliviousness to his own nature, you sigh before walking past him with a pat to the shoulder that means we'll talk later. Right now you have a devastatingly handsome author to explain yourself to.

Luckily, Ford hadn't wandered too far after his self-imposed removal from the gift shop. He sat on the steps of the front porch, legs outstretched as he watched the sky as if he was deep in thought. You notice his hand gripping the splintered edge of the stair as you lower yourself to sit by his side.

"... sorry about that." You spread your fingers over your propped up knees in a placating gesture. "Stan can be... like that sometimes."

Ford had tucked his own knees up to balance his elbows on at your arrival, and his breath had hitched at your voice. He watched you with a sort of calm understanding, but something deeper and more intense seemed to simmer beneath the surface. "Ah well. The things we put up with for love, right?"

You nod, grateful for his understanding. Then the word he used hit you. Love. Love. It didn't even register what Ford meant at first, because of course you love Stanley. He's your best friend, and it's just a fact of life that you love him, and that he loves bugging the hell out of you. But you aren't sure Ford knows that you love him, but aren't in love with him.

You clear your throat and turn your next words around in your mouth a bit, tasting them before you carefully explain to Ford, "Right. I mean, Stan is like a brother to me. We're best friends. And normally his flirting act is pretty damn funny, but there are times when it can complicate things." You inhale and stretch your legs out as Ford had been doing when you came to see him. Opening yourself to him. "Like when there's a guy I'm into and I don't want him to think that I'm not totally single. And totally into him."

Glancing at Ford from the corner of your eye, you see he's staring at his intertwined fingers which had frozen in the midst of their fiddling. His expression reminded you of when you'd walk in on him working on some complicated passage of his journal, or figuring out what word would fit in the crossword puzzles that come in the Sunday morning papers he still gets. Like there's a problem in front of him, and he's trying to fix it.

His eyes light up and he turns to meet your stare. Eureka. "So- not Stan?"

"Not Stan."

"Then... who?"

Now it's your turn to stare at your hands. In your very best nonchalant, I'm-totally-chill-about-this voice, you reply, "You."

A quick exhale that makes you wonder if he'd been holding his breath, and Ford chuckles. Really, it's more like a giggle, but let's try not to embarrass the poor guy. He lets his knees drop down and he mirrors you in the open stretch of your legs. "It's you for me too."

It feels like little cartoon birds are pulling the edges of your mouth into a smile as raw, dreamy elation sparkles up your spine, colors your cheeks pink, and draws loop-de-loops in your chest.

You look at Ford and he's already watching you. That spark catches again like he's the one holding the lighter. The bubbling storm of his eyes had cleared to a beautiful sunny day, and the sun reflecting off of his cracked glasses combined with his smile almost blind you. You decide to test these clear waters. Scooting over a little, you place a hand on the porch between your two bodies.

You watch him inch his hand towards yours until your pinkies are overlapped. You would've thought the two of you had just kissed for hours with how out of breath you feel. You open your mouth to say something probably very suave and charming when a familiar trio of voices interrupts.

"O-M-G! Y/N and Great Uncle Ford? All my dreams have come true!"

"HA! So you DO wanna bone him! I called it!"

"I don't even want to know what that means..."

Turning over your shoulder you smile coyly at Mable, Stan, and Dipper, who for all their teasing and overlapping rambling, seemed over the moon about the newly confessed feelings between you and Ford.

Stan squeezed his way between the two of you, slinging an arm around each of your shoulders. "Guess this means you gotta stop flirting with me on the job, Y/N. I know, it's gonna be so hard but I believe in you." He nodded solemnly in your direction before turning to his brother and jostling him up to his shoulder. "And you! You dog, I can't believe you had it in you! Us Pines men are just too irresistible I guess."

The family breaks into their signature "Pines! Pines! Pines!" chant in celebration of Stan's sage advice and Ford's "success in the lady department" as Mabel had put it. And as you were sandwiched between your best friend, your dream guy, and the two coolest kids on earth, you laughed and joined in.

"Pines! Pines! Pines!"

[dinogoofymutated]

Hi!! I LOVE your Remy hcs! They were so sweet and in character 😊 I'm on my period and ya girl is suffering and I keep thinking that Remy would be the sweetest AND totally amazing in the fried food department 👀 Any hcs? Totally chill if nah

xx

Gambit/AFAB!reader!- Period HCS YES!!! just yes. absolutlely. I want to taste this man's cooking so bad but I am ridiculously sensitive to spice and would probably die.

I have a similar req for Nightcrawler as well so keep an eye out for that one too ;) Sorry that this is a little short!

TWS: Menstrual cycles. Cramps. Menstrual cravings. Damn I'm hungry rn ngl. Can be read as GN as no pronouns are mentioned.

If cooking Isn't one of Remy's love languages I'm calling bull!!

I mean, who else would go out of their way to cook beignets for breakfast? I mean, sure, he could have made the dough beforehand but seriously that shit takes time.

I 100% believe he would go out of his way to make you anything you were craving on your period. Fried chicken? Done. Beignets? Obviously. Done! Hell, you want stuffed french toast but every time you try to make it you fail miserably? Don't worryyy! He's got you.

Although, that doesn't mean he does it for free!! He asks for payment via smooches and love. He tends to stray away from period sex until he knows you're comfortable with it, and if you are comfortable with it he's always there to offer his assistance if you need an all natural pain killer ;)

Mother nature fucking sucked. It wasn't enough that you had to deal with blood leaking out of you every month, but debilitating cramps on top of that? Straight bullshit!

You've been cocooned under your blankets all morning, curled up into a fetal position as you delt with the intense cramps. You've already taken the last of the painkillers you kept in your bedside table, and unfortunate for you, they were not working. You know you've certainly missed breakfast by now, but you just hurt too much to get up. You're face down on your pillow when there's a quick knock at your door before it opens.

"Good morning, Chère~" Remy sings. You cant really respond to him other than giving him a tired hum. You hear the door shut behind him before the sound of him placing a plate on your bedside table.

" 'Figured you weren't feeling well when you weren't at the table, so I've brought you the Gambit special." He jokes. You feel the bed shift with his weight as his sits next to you, running his hand up and down your back soothingly.

"Thanks Rem." You mumble. If only you could bring yourself to sit up. You can smell the sweet scent of the beignets he had brought you, and it makes your stomach growl loudly. You wince as another wave of pain hits you coincidentally, and you're absolutely sure your body was planning to kill you.

" S' pretty bad, huh?" Remy asks, a comforting hand brushing the hair out of your face. You nod.

"Alright, c'mere." You don't have a chance to refuse as Remy is sitting you up, making space so he can sit against your headboard. You're blearily blinking your eyes open as he drags you into his lap, propping you up against his chest. You send him a groggy, questioning look, but he only responds with catching you in a chaste kiss.

"What? You didn't think I was gonna let my favorite person suffer alone, did you?" He asks, sending you a smile that you can't help but return. Remy feeds you your breakfast like that, keeping you snug and safe between his arms as he gives you plenty of kisses and rubs your lower stomach through each wave of pain. Those painkiller never did kick in, but at least you had someone sweet to distract you for a while.

[angelwithdemonictendencies]

my palms ran red turning over jagged rocks, thought i'd find some kind of sign; you pressed your mouth to my wound, weren't your bloody lips sign enough?

qh43 x reader: you really have to stop meeting like this.

(warnings: mostly plot, but also blasphemous filth (yes, we're back on the smut train), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), fingering, hair pulling (i haven't changed), choking (i really haven't changed), descriptions of self-doubt and shame and all my typical stuff. mostly tension building (10k words worth), general debauchery.  please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: oh my god, favorites. i hadn't read this one in so long, so thank you for allowing me an avenue to rediscover it. i'm so happy you're getting to rediscover it now, too. if you want a song to listen to that i think goes with this story really well, give BONES! by girly teeth club a try :) i do genuinely believe that this story was a real turning point for me, and it holds a very special place in my heart because of that (i had the line then who was i praying to? well, who answered? taped to my computer for a long, long time. personal favorite of mine). i hope you enjoy this one again, and also hello to the followers and readers who have no idea what i'm talking about when i bitch and moan about my old account. i see you, and i love you, and i'm so eager to hear what you think. enjoy mechanic qh43 and all of the mythical divine powers that he inspires within me. to the seven people who care, more ol and rus coming momentarily. sunday is now my designated tumblr day, so if you want to chat, sunday is your best bet. i love you and your snakes! be kind to yourself).

like most all-consuming things, it started with something insignificant.

if your tail light had never gone out during the summer before your third year at university, perhaps none of it would have ever happened. part of you wanted to believe that some determined power would have guided the two of you together no matter what, but most of you thought the powers of the world to be nonchalant at best, hostile at worst.

regardless, your right tail light went out a few weeks before school started, and despite your intense unwillingness to spend money on your car, your mom insisted that you get it fixed.

"that family auto shop will do it quickly," she suggested, "the one a few streets down from school."

so here you were, standing uncomfortably in the lobby of the mechanic's, less than soothed by the harsh noises that echoed through the small garage.

you cleared your throat, attempting to get the attention of the teenage receptionist, probably the daughter or cousin of the owner, currently on her phone.

she looked up immediately, smiled wide, full of braces and friendliness. "sorry," she said, only a little guilty to be caught on her phone. "how can i help you?"

you smiled right back at her, immediately put at ease by her presence. "my mom called earlier," you said. you went to continue, but were enthusiastically cut off.

"miss tail light!" she exclaimed, to which you laughed and nodded. "have a seat," she urged, "quinn should be out in a minute, and that's a quick fix."

you nodded and sat down, then crossed your legs as you waited, bouncing one foot against your other calf. you looked at your hands, twisted one ring around your finger.

"you're the tail light?" a low voice called from the lobby entrance, forcing your gaze up from your hands to meet a pair of eyes that somehow swam with both steel and uncertainty.

this newcomer, quinn, supposedly, confirmed by the embroidered patch on his breast pocket, seemed to be immediately off-put by your matching gaze, as he shoved his wide hands in the pockets of his coveralls and blinked several times, a bit too fast.

his confusing mannerisms, combined with his curious combination of handsomeness and beauty, forced a small smile to your face as you stood up.

he really was pretty like you had never quite seen before, tall but not menacingly so, broad across the chest in a way that just looked warm, his coveralls hanging off of him, drawing attention to his frame, his thighs, his arms.

his hair was messy, curling only slightly at the tops of his ears, his cheekbones and jawline so, so sharp, but his nose and mouth softly curved.

you cleared your throat again when you realized you were probably staring.

"i suppose i am," you said, answering his question, approaching him and the door, by extension.

he gave a forced nod before turning to leave, urging a fluid reaction from the muscles in his neck and shoulders, which you pretended not to notice as you walked behind him.

in a choppy, sudden motion, he made to hold the door open for you, arm extended but gaze averted.

"thank you, quinn," you said, trying out his name, surprised to find how natural it felt on your tongue, something like a hymn a past-life you must have sang with unmatched conviction.

he seemed just as surprised as you, practically tripped over his own feet before quickly recovering. you bit your lip to stifle a laugh.

"should only take a second," he said as he crouched down next to your car, his voice a bit rougher than before, pulling a couple of tools and bulbs from his many pockets.

"take your time," you said, sitting down nearby as he got to work, and you meant it, feeling a somewhat shameful urge to just watch him. just look at him.

you fumbled to distract yourself, settling on looking interested in your phone. in reality, it took real effort to keep your eyes down, away from him, when you felt as if he emitted some kind of magnetic force suited only to you.

it felt like an eternity, but it took all of ten minutes, a couple swift motions, and he was done, rising again to his full height and turning to face you.

you allowed yourself to meet his eyes and it felt like a heaving exhale. "all done?" you asked, rising as well, willing brightness into your voice.

he nodded in affirmation, and you could have pouted. a man of few words, it seemed, and how you wished he would give you a few more.

he wiped his hands with a rag, and you refused to let your eyes follow the motion. "so i should pay..." you started.

he nodded towards the lobby. "you can pay with bean," he said, gruff.

you grinned right at him, and anyone else would have seen his gaze soften from stone to molten rock. "bean?" you asked.

the slightest smile took over his mouth. "my cousin," he said, slowly, "at reception."

you hummed, comforted by his sudden ease. "well then," you said, "i'll go check out with your cousin bean."

"i'll walk you," he blurted out, a blush coming to tint the tops of his ears in a positively dreamy sort of way.

so you walked the several steps back to the lobby together, the silence so comfortable you could have sighed, fallen asleep wrapped up in it.

already you felt some sense of loss creeping in, knowing you were probably never going to see him again, knowing this was all you were going to get. just a couple of glances and words and blushes, that's as far as this would go. and it made a lot of sense, but logical reason grew over your hazy, momentary crush like ivy on a brick building.

he held the door open for you again, and as you walked past him this time you looked up into his eyes. stone and steel and ivy.

you thanked him again.

"quinn?" came that delightfully girlish voice from behind the desk, this time intensely confused. "what are you doing?"

he stood in the door frame, his swallow almost cartoonish. "just making sure she checks out okay," he mumbled, not quite looking anyone in the face.

the girl smiled so wide, you could see she had chosen to make her braces purple last time she visited the orthodontist. "you've never done that before, is all," she observed with all the subtlety of a volcanic eruption.

was that pink tint creeping past his ears to his neck, now?

"do it plenty," he muttered, less than convincing and more to himself than anyone else.

the girl shot you a knowing look before turning to her cousin again. "if you say so," she relented. "miss tail light is in good hands with me, now, so you're all set, mr. random acts of kindness."

quinn muttered something under his breath before making to leave, embarrassment still flushing just under his collar.

the knowledge that this was it, this was all this would ever be, that's what made you reach a hand out to lightly grasp his forearm, stopping him where he stood.

you swore some kind of divine warmth rose to meet your hand.

he looked down at where your fingers met his arm before meeting your gaze. molten, yet again. he didn't move, didn't dare to scare off your touch.

"thank you again, quinn," you said, just to him.

a pause charged by meaning sparked between you both.

maybe some minuscule fraction of your heart feared he would push you away and roll his eyes, mumble something about personal space. or maybe that disgust would flood his lovely gaze, and he would say something much meaner.

you should never have touched him, you scolded yourself, stupid, desperate, foolish girl. you began to lift your hand away when his rough voice became a whisper, just for you.

"anything, doll," he said. and then he walked away, leaving his words to rattle around in your head like the whirring noises around the garage.

you paid, laughed playfully with the young receptionist as she insisted she had never seen her cousin so embarrassed, and especially not so bashful.

"i'm sure that's not true," you said, trying in vain to force your sky-rocketing hopes back to earth.

"oh, it is," she said as you made to leave, giving you a big smile and a wave as you bid her goodbye.

as you drove back home, those tendrils of reason crept back again, began to suffocate the dreamy romance that had settled like a glittery mist in your head.

you gave a single exhale, breathing out any unrealistic expectations. you'd probably never see him again, you admitted to yourself, and you tried to convince yourself that you were fine with it.

and so you let the image of steel and stone and ivy become a phantom in the back of your mind, along with the scorching solidity of his forearm underneath your delicate palm.

you'd never see him again, you believed.

in theory, you knew you could have had one of your friends find him on social media, it probably wouldn't have been too hard. a first name, an occupation, they'd tracked down fleeting flings and past crushes with much less information to go off of before.

but you didn't like the idea of interference, much preferred the way he looked in your memory to the fear that he would be someone very different online, that he would be someone different than the person that now existed exclusively in your head.

you were never supposed to see him again, and yet you did, and just as you had almost forgotten the way his shoulders moved when he walked, too.

three weeks later, just before you went back to school, you were eating dinner outside with your family at the country club they belonged to. you had been there maybe twice in the last couple of years, as your mom worked long hours and your dad only really used his membership for golf.

now, though, sitting outside, overlooking the course, in the pleasant air of the late summer, you were glad you were here, enjoying these last few moments with your family before you began your third year.

you were laughing at a joke your mom had made when you heard someone close by call out, "that's my marker, quinn!"

something distant fluttered in your stomach as you registered the name, tried so hard to not care if it was him or not. trying so, so hard to not care, but you cared so much it felt as if you might have willed him into existence yourself, wanted him enough that even the uninterested powers were forced to relent with a bored sigh.

so, in truth, you knew it was him even before you turned and focused on the hole just below the patio.

you knew it was him, and yet you were wholly unprepared for the way your head spun when you registered his familiar figure.

as if compelled by your gaze, or by something else worth worshipping, he turned, too, and there you were, staring at each other. did he recognize you the way you did him? the way you recognize your first lover's cologne? the way you recognize what's waiting behind a door with a scalding doorknob?

but then he took a hand off of his club and gave a timid wave, and you felt your body relax as you waved back. he paused for a moment as if in thought, then motioned towards him, silently asking you to come down.

"who is that?" your mother asked, not critical, only curious.

"my mechanic," you answered, "be right back, promise."

so, even though it was probably (definitely) against the rules, you made your way down to the impeccably cut grass, holding your shoes in one shaky hand.

you waved again as you approached him at the edge of the green, his friends gathered closer to the hole, talking animatedly amongst themselves.

he tilted his head and gave you a small smile, which gave you wings. a smile, and you hadn't even done anything!

"hi, quinn," you said, getting your first good look at him up close, and this time not in coveralls. this time in a polo that brought out his eyes and shorts that had you straining not to stare at his thighs.

"doll," he greeted, that ghost of a smile still on his full lips. "thought that was you."

heavy uncertainty suddenly settled between the both of you. what were you supposed to say? what was he supposed to say? what do you do with time that feels stolen?

"didn't think i'd see you again," you landed on, then physically cringed at yourself. "not that i was thinking about you, or anything," you added, then pursed your lips in a line.

awesome save.

he let out a laugh, though, and it shook his shoulders and lit up his face in a way that made it impossible to regret your rambling.

his laugh made him look human in a way he hadn't really, before, at the garage. it stripped back all the flowery expectations your imagination had buried him in and set him down here, in front of you, a real person.

a real person, who, in this summery light, was much more unabashed and generous with his smiles. his eyes had a softness to them that you hadn't noticed before.

"i wish you had, then," he said, in that deep, low, voice with a confidence that didn't quite suit him, like he was just trying it on.

it almost made you drop your shoes, regardless.

"yeah?" you asked, tilting your head and letting your satisfaction drench your face like sunset light.

he gave a little nod.

"c'mon, huggy!" one of his friends called. what do you do with time that feels stolen?

he looked back at them and his jaw clenched, for a second.

you knew you had to be the one to walk away, or it would haunt you like some ancestral debt.

"maybe i'll see you again, then, quinn," you said, your tone not conveying the desperate hope you felt.

he looked you up and down, amusement alight in his eyes. it seemed his nervous demeanor existed only in his coveralls. "you willing to take your chances on a 'maybe,' doll?"

were you?

you silently begged those distant forces to prove your hopes were not futile, but you didn't really believe that. you were headed to school in just two days, and who knows where he was headed, this mysterious mechanic who liked to golf and had eyes like a deity.

you knew you were on stolen time, and that this, again, was as far as this would ever go.

"we're going!" his friends called.

"i hope i see you again, quinn," you amended, already feeling a sense of loss again. but you had to be the one to walk away, so you began to.

his face was unreadable, some mixture of disappointment and interest and knowing.

"think about me some more this time, yeah? until you see me again?"

your smile glowed. "if 'm honest, quinn, that'll be hard," you said, thinking about how he had been a constant in your mind for the last couple of weeks. you leaned into your flirtatious side since you were both moving apart. it was always easiest when you were on the way out.

he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "try extra hard for me, would you, doll?"

and for a moment, time seemed to ooze like amber. a blink felt like eternity, like you were both suspended in an hourglass.

"promise," you said. it came out like a whisper, but it felt like you screamed it across an open expanse.

and so you parted ways a second time, practically daring the universe to stop you from meeting again.

do whatever you want, universe, you seemed to say, i don't care! i'm fine with the story ending here!

oh, sweetheart, the universe seemed to say, yawning, barely looking at you, then why do you clutch at the book until your fingers bleed?

you could have scowled.

and, just as he wanted, and just as you were afraid of, he was there, in the back of your mind, for several weeks into the school year.

everything started smoothly. you were happy to see your friends again, to be living with them. classes started well. you went out when you wanted to. you began your regular job, tutoring other students in classes you had already taken. it was nice to see the students you had helped out last year, to continue helping them.

teachers referred you to help students who were struggling in their classes all the time, so it wasn't anything significant when one set up a time for you to meet at the library with someone who wasn't quite getting intro to calculus.

it was significant, however, when you opened up the reserved study room door to see quinn sitting at the table, textbooks out in front of him.

so significant, actually, that it genuinely scared you. "jesus," you muttered, exhaling and placing a calming hand over your heart.

he looked up when he heard the door open, and you were frozen in place.

this is what you wanted, right? the universe probably asked, bored. now will you leave me alone?

"i was not expecting you," you admitted, willing your heart back to beating normally.

you couldn't read him, yet again. and yet again, you felt as if you had wanted him hard enough that even the fibers of the universe were annoyed enough to comply.

ugh, they probably said to each other, just give that desperate fool what she wants! i'm tired of hearing her pleas!

but you could have sighed at how beautiful he looked, this time different again - sweatpants and a t-shirt and messy hair. soft looking and sleepy after a day of class and whatever else.

"yeah?" he asked, although he hadn't expected you either. he wasn't shocked the way you were, though. only pleasantness played across his full features. "who were you expecting?"

not you, you wanted to say. things just don't work out like this for me. "i didn't know you went here," you said, simply.

"i didn't know you were a tutor," he replied, leaning back in his chair.

i didn't know your smile gets lopsided when you're tired, you thought to yourself. you could never forget that, now.

"safe to say we know very little about each other, doll," he added, as if he could hear your thoughts.

and he was right - you hadn't asked him anything about himself the last two times you saw him, and he didn't know anything about you. how easy would it have been at the course to say you were going to the local university in a couple of days. why had you not?

why had you relinquished control so easily?

it practically pained you to think about that, just as it was practically painful to look at his face head on, eyes weary with sleep yet bright with amusement, so you decided to solve both of those problems.

"well," you said, sliding into the seat next to him at the table, excruciatingly aware of your closeness, "what do you know about derivatives?"

he gave a huff of a laugh. "probably even less," he said.

you gave him a smile and started to go over your notes with him. the more you spoke, and the deeper you got into the topic, the easier it was to be close to him.

you were still hyperaware of his warmth, his presence, his beauty, his being, but you could do this. getting lost in your purpose here instead of getting lost in him.

after about an hour of you explaining derivatives, you looking at your notes, and him looking at you, you shut your textbook.

"i think that's good for a first session, hm?" you asked, turning to face him and hugging one knee to your chest.

he held your gaze as if studying your face. it felt like being center stage, under a white hot spotlight.

he spread his legs out and reached his arms up, stretching after sitting in the same position for a while. you had to look down at your hands.

"five more minutes?" he asked like a kid begging for an extended bedtime. only now he was asking for more time with you.

you scrunched up your nose, which made him smile, a bit. "can i ask you a question, quinn?" you asked. "since we don't know anything about each other."

"only if i get one, too," he answered.

you thought carefully, flexed your hand on your knee as your gaze met his sleepy one. "it's not that late," you started, "why are you so tired?"

he laughed again, making your chest sing. "busy day," he answered, "had two classes, practice, and a lift."

and as he elaborated you added to the carefully protected vault in your mind of information you knew about him. he played hockey for the team here, he was a defensemen, he was always busy.

"my turn," he said after he was done, low like a secret.

you nodded, forced away the flush his tone alone was able to pull from you.

"did you keep your promise?" he asked.

of everything he could have said, you were least expecting that. of course you knew what promise he was referring to immediately. of course it felt like something abominable to tell him the truth.

suddenly the space between the two of you felt much too little, much too dangerous. so small that you could see each of his eyelashes, he could see the way your eyes dropped to his mouth for a second.

there was something in his eyes that surprised you, though. there was a trace of those nerves you had seen in him that first day - that instability and uncertainty. he wanted you to say yes, you realized. he wanted it so, so much.

"of course i did, quinn," you soothed, leaning forward onto your knee just a bit. it was always easiest on the way out. "did you have any doubts?"

did he let out a breath? his silence spoke for him. still, you had to be the one to walk away. you couldn't afford any more ghosts.

"same time next week?" you asked, gathering your things.

"not gonna leave it to chance this time, doll?" he asked, getting his things together too, but in a lazy sort of way. his hands moved slowly, reluctantly.

you tried not to stare at them.

you gave him a last look before you left.

"do you want to leave it to chance?" you asked, genuinely.

ugh, chance seemed to say, can't you just do it yourself?

his molten gaze dripped over you like honey. "no," he decided, "no, i wouldn't say that's at the top of my wishlist."

you didn't ask what was.

so, each tuesday night, you tutored him in calculus. and each tuesday night, you learned more about him, and he learned more about you.

you learned about how he got into auto mechanics (he never grew out of his childhood truck phase), why he liked golf (really just an excuse to talk with his friends for a couple of hours), what was so special about hockey (it felt like he could see things that others just couldn't). his favorite candy (sour skittles), his favorite color gatorade (red), his favorite t-shirt (a worn in concert shirt from high school).

but you also learned that he got shy when you complimented him, that he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek when he was about to say something that made you blush, that he got more confident as he got to know you.

his nerves only came out when he grew unsure, and you did your best to make him so, so sure.

and he did get to know you. how you got into your major (data analysis was the family business), why you applied yourself so vigorously in your classes (you didn't know any other way), all about your close friends and family. your favorite soda (cherry coke zero), your favorite frat (pike, only because a couple of your friends were dating brothers there, and they had the goofiest themes), your favorite snack (pretzel goldfish).

he was nothing if not observant, too, so he noticed that you had a special smile for when he got a question right, and that you only wore your hair up when you were extra tired, and that, towards the end of the session, when you were caught off guard, you would lean a little closer to him without realizing.

that was his favorite. when you would lean into his space, just a little more, as if you were pulled towards him by a magnetic force.

and each session, you made him a little more confident, and he made you blush a little bit more. until you both felt utterly comfortable with each other, like you had known each other for ages.

well, as comfortable as you could feel with a person who made you feel like every inch of your skin was on fire. as comfortable as you could feel with someone whose voice made your throat go dry, whose hands made you stutter, whose mannerisms made your stomach flutter.

one tuesday night, late into a session where he had told you he had passed his quiz with flying colors, he twisted his pen in his hand.

"you know, doll," he started, "you should come to a game sometime."

you looked up. "one of your games?" you asked, searching his steely eyes for meaning.

his lip quirked. "yes, one of my games."

here, he might as well have said, have a little more of me.

"unless you don't want to," he added to your silence. "which would also be fine. i don't want to force-"

you stopped him with a hand on his forearm, transporting you both back to that first day. did you imagine him relaxing into your touch, this time?

"i'd love to come," you said, looking him square in the face.

"good," he replied, content.

but nothing could have prepared you for what awaited you that friday night, standing with your friends in the student section of the rink you had never been to.

"how have we never been to a hockey game?" one of them asked, looking around at the crowd.

"basketball's just better," another said, although, to be fair, she was on the club basketball team. "what the hell is icing, anyways?"

"we never had a reason to, i guess," your best friend said in a teasing tone. you shot her a look, to which she raised her hands in surrender. "hey, no judgement," she said, and you laughed.

as soon as quinn was on the ice, though, he had your complete and undivided attention. he skated with a mesmerizing fluidity, hit with a concrete, undeniable kind of force. and he was right - he did see things no one else could see, made connections that you, nor anyone on the ice, could predict until they were already completed.

he was all over the ice, all over this space, he was everywhere. and you were transfixed.

walking back to the house with your friends, they noticed. of course they did.

"oh god, i know that look," one said.

"this is gonna be trouble," another added. was this trouble? was trouble when everything someone did felt like some great treasure you had discovered? was trouble this kind of fire, of comfort, of excitement, of rest?

you shook your head. "calm down, guys," you said. "it's not that serious."

"right," someone said. you didn't believe yourself, either.

"what did you think of the game?" he asked the following tuesday after you had covered enough material to be satisfied.

you were so close to him now, it probably would have been easier to just share a chair. so close you could feel the warmth radiating off of him, could all but feel his chest against your back.

"what did i think of the game?" you repeated lazily.

you could hear his smile in his voice. "yes, doll."

you hummed. how honest could you be, here? what could you get away with?

and maybe it was your closeness to him that made you bold. maybe it was the heat you saw in his eyes that had you leaning your head on his shoulder and looking up at him. you felt his breath rumble through him and into you.

the air sparked.

"thought you were incredible, quinn," you said honestly. "like nothing i've ever seen."

his exhale was shaky as he peered down at you. "yeah?" he asked.

"mhm," you hummed, your body buzzing with his contact, the most you had ever had. something unspoken settled between you like dust.

"you would come again, then?" he asked, hopeful but drowsy.

you couldn't help but smile, a bit, gaze up at him through your lashes. "think i'd have a hard time saying no to you, if 'm honest."

something like wonder misted across his heated gaze. "i like knowing you're there," he said. "like knowing you're thinking about me."

dangerous desire swirled around the two of you, melting your gaze and blurring the lines.

things don't work out like this for you, a voice said, bitter and mocking, drawing the lines up again, sturdy and menacing.

you cleared your throat, lifted your head from his shoulder. if you could look at him, you would have seen that uncertainty swimming in his eyes again, along with something like hurt.

but you couldn't look at him. at the drowsy slouch of his shoulders, the rugged line of his jaw, the glossy want that practically dripped down his face like starry tears.

i'm always thinking about you, you wanted to tell him. i'm sorry.

but you gathered your things, stood up. "i should go."

he was silent for a moment, looked you up and down, gave a small sigh. "okay, doll," he conceded. "on one condition."

you scrunched up your nose in confusion.

"you agree to come golfing with me tomorrow," he said in a completely satisfied tone. "then, you can go."

a million excuses flooded onto your tongue.

"i'm busy tomorrow," you tried, your voice coming out tight.

he waved that off lazily. "me too," he said, something like a smirk growing on his pink lips. "but we're both free at four, so let's plan on that. next?"

you sputtered.

"but i don't know how to golf," you tried.

he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. trouble.

"don't worry, doll," he offered. "i'll go real slow for you."

you flushed, almost walked into the doorframe, quickly decided you needed to leave immediately, if you wanted to maintain any level of mystery or dignity.

"fine," you said, already on your way out. it felt like flames were nipping at your heels, biting at your nose. "i'll come."

his smirk deepened, a different look on him. "don't put up much of a fight, do you, doll?"

"i'm leaving," you choked as you walked out, turning to face him one final time. "what if i just didn't want to come?"

he seemed to ponder this for a moment. "i think," he started, "if you really didn't want to come, it wouldn't make you blush like this to say so."

he didn't ask you to think about him, but by the look on his face, you knew he could tell he didn't have to.

so, the following day, you found yourself on the course with quinn.

a terrible, terrible idea, really.

especially considering the want that filled his gaze when he first saw you, catching on your legs before returning up to your eyes.

"showed up for me, did you, doll?" he asked, a hope you recognized tinting his voice a shimmery pink.

you rolled your eyes, but smiled. "you knew i would."

"thank you anyways," he replied, and his genuineness, his honesty, his straightforwardness, it all made you melt. made you want to know what his smile felt like against your neck, what his hands felt like in your hair.

so, as you both made to tee off, you turned to him. "can you help me with my swing, please?"

his gaze softened. liquid steel. "sure, doll," he said, then lined up next to you and explained his way through it.

you bit your lip. "i'm a hands on learner," you said, which was a lie. "i think i need you closer." that part wasn't.

he didn't adopt a cocky smirk, like so many would have. he didn't lean into your act, didn't pounce on the opportunity to show his superiority. he only approached you from behind and reached his arms around you to grip your driver with you, his hands on top of yours, warm and rough.

you could feel each breath he took in your back, felt the solid plane of his chest on your shoulder blades.

"close enough?" he all but whispered into the space between your neck and your shoulder.

something sinful must have possessed you then. "for now," you breathed out.

he went through a swing with you, slow and fluid. you weren't paying attention, not really, but how could you, when he was just so, so close? was this dazed sensation, was that what he felt when you touched him, that first day? or later, in your study room?

but, of course, the swing was soon over, and he reluctantly retreated off to the side.

"your turn, doll," he said.

you took a breath to shake the phantom of his embrace away, then teed off - beautifully straight and hard, arcing through the air like a physics textbook problem.

you looked at him to find a knowing, teasing look on his face. he ran a hand through his hair, displacing the curling ends as he gave a quick laugh.

you smiled. "call me a natural," you offered, shrugging.

"oh yeah?" he said, tilting his head. "how about i call you a liar?"

you leaned forward onto the end of your driver, grin widening. "how about i call you gullible?"

he shook his head, let out a playful scoff. "like you'd ever have to trick me into touching you."

the rest of the round went by quickly, both of your guards down, lost in conversation and high on each other. too soon, it was over.

it was this realization that urged you to act uncharacteristically - in that, you acted according to what you truly felt.

"can i see you tomorrow?" you asked him as he loaded your clubs into the trunk of your car. you didn't cringe as much as you would have a few weeks ago.

he wiped his hands on his shorts, looked at you with something that looked like relief. "think i'd have a hard time saying no to you," he parroted. his ability to remember things about you warmed you from the inside out.

"meet me at the sig nu party tomorrow?" you asked hopefully. "maybe you can meet some of my friends?"

he looked truly touched. "some of the guys are going already since we don't have a morning lift on friday," he said, "so you could meet some of them, too, if you want."

you nodded, flushed with expectation. "see you then," you said, making to get in your car. "and yes, i'll think about you."

his smile as you shut your door was something of dreams.

sigma nu was not one of your favorite frats. their basement was especially dirty looking, their brothers were on the sketchier side, and the never seemed to have enough alcohol to make it through the night.

but one of your friends was talking to one of the brothers, who also played club basketball. so you and the rest of your group were going for moral support. and also because no one else was throwing. it was only a thursday.

you were nervous. you had only just begun to accept that you were really, really into quinn, and you had only just begun to accept that he might, possibly, probably, be just as into you.

it still didn't make much logical sense to you. when had it ever been so simple?

don't talk about logical sense around me, chance would say, that bitch knows what she did.

when you first saw quinn across the crowded room, chance and logical sense and all those divine powers, they all melted away.

it was just him. his hair was messy and his gaze was relaxed and the lights made it look like his face was glowing as he laughed with his friends.

but the crowd got the better of you, for a little while. you danced with your friends, politely escaped several "so, what's your major?" conversations, and actually spent a while talking to your friend's new talking stage.

as you laughed at something, you were internally surprised. this guy seemed perfect for your friend - they shared so many interests, and he was able to laugh at himself easily, which was something that was at the top of her priority list.

after a while of learning enough about him to approve of him graduating from the talking stage, you looked up. of course your gaze was immediately drawn to quinn, closer than you had seen him last.

closer, and yet farther than he had ever been, because he was leaning against the wall, talking to another girl.

you couldn't really see the girl, but it wouldn't have really mattered. it wasn't about her. she was just a girl talking to a guy at a party. a guy who was, in all technical senses, single and available.

it was more so about him, and how close he was to her, how he leaned down to hear her, meaning she could probably smell his all-but-worn-off cologne.

your grip tightened on your red cup as you swallowed.

before, quinn had only ever been yours, because even when you doubted that he could ever return your feelings, he had never given you concrete evidence that he was interested in anyone else. so even though he hadn't been yours, he had been almost yours, probably going to be yours, or something like that.

but here he was, giving you concrete proof that he existed to others, too, that other people could be interested in him and he could be interested back.

and of course that had always been the case. how could you have been so narcissistic? of course people would foster crushes on him, like you did, and of course he was bound to reciprocate eventually, to someone.

you had let yourself believe that you were the center of the world for a moment, of his world, and you hated that.

so, honestly, it was barely even about quinn. this struggle, this was about you.

but if you stripped back everything external, oh, how downright jealous you felt right then.

so jealous that you had to leave, that you couldn't watch anymore. when you got home, you shut the door and exhaled.

what did i tell you? that bitter voice said, things just don't work out that way for you.

you could have growled, now, at how lazy, how self-centered that sounded.

don't look at me, chance would have said, hands raised in surrender, this was all you.

he was just talking to another girl, logical reason would say, that doesn't mean he's not interested in you. you have what, a couple months of history?

and of course reason would be right. of course, you knew, deep down, you didn't have to let this consume you.

but now a tendril of doubt had woven its way into your heart. if you had been so misled by your own ego before, how could you tell if any of it was real? how could you trust yourself to know if this wasn't much more to you than it was to him?

time. you needed some time.

thankfully, that was doable. you went home for break on friday after class, and planned to stay there for the week.

so you stayed home, caught up with your parents, ignored his numerous texts.

it hurt to do so, but you told yourself you needed some distance.

which wasn't that hard, considering he was playing a series of games across the country. you still put on his games though, which your parents noticed.

"didn't even know we got this channel," you dad observed one night as you watched quinn stickhandle around a sloppy winger.

"when did you get into hockey?" you mom asked, never critical. "we could go see a game sometime, if you want."

you started to settle down a bit, really enjoyed the time at home. before you knew it, though, break was almost over.

"sweetheart," you mom called to you on your second to last day, "would you mind taking the car in?"

you were skeptical. "why?"

"they just called," she explained, "said we're due for an urgent oil change."

you thought it was weird that they would call for that, but quinn was supposedly still away, so you figured it wouldn't be that much of an issue.

"sure," you responded. "i'll bring it in now."

you knew it was a trap as soon as you opened your car door at the garage.

the young receptionist approached you quickly with a guilty smile.

"hi, miss bean," you said, trying to gauge what she was about to say.

"look," she rushed, "i didn't want to, and i'm thought the plan was stupid, and i'm sure you're ignoring him for good reason-"

you sighed, knowing what was coming. having walked right into it. "i'm not, really," you stopped her, then felt the need to clarify. "it's not really a good reason."

"what is it, then?" that low voice asked from your side, and everyone else disappeared.

just him, standing there, looking the same as you had last seen him, but so, so different.

the same, because he was just as lovely as you last recalled. was it insensitive to say that he wore his weariness beautifully?

so different, because he just looked so tired. his coveralls did little to hide the slight slouch in his shoulders. a subtle stubble now shadowed his face, making his jaw sharper. and his eyes. that steely stone that had occupied your mind all this time - it was cracking, desperate for something to hang on to.

"just needed some distance," you mustered. you were jarred by his appearance, by being close to him again, just the two of you.

"yeah?" he looked you up and down, that desperate disappointment now running down your figure. there was no malice in his tone. "why, doll? so you can say you were right?" you could have hissed. "so you can go on knowing everything went exactly as you told yourself it would?"

things like this don't work out for you. who had been telling you that, again?

you sucked on your teeth, had no idea what to say. what do you say to someone that sees right through you? the pause settled like sludge. "i thought you were away," you eventually whispered, ignoring his question.

he ran a hand through his hair, let all his grief flood into his eyes. "and i thought it would be a lot harder for you to forget me," he said, "so i guess we're both at a loss."

you took a step forward, then stopped yourself, almost dizzy. "you actually think i would forget you?" you breathed, practically choking on your words.

he scoffed. "what was i supposed to think?" he rubbed his palm against the back of his neck. "i think everything is going well when you ask me to come to this party, then you spend the whole time talking to some other guy-"

your brow furrowed before you understood. "my friend's new boyfriend," you interrupted. to his confusion, you clarified. "i was talking to my friend's boyfriend."

he blinked, registered this information, appeared a bit lighter. "regardless," he sighed, "you were supposed to be talking to me, doll."

"hold on," you said, the memory of jealousy seeping into your bloodstream, "you were talking to someone else, too, quinn." you crossed your arms, images flashing in your mind of him leaning down, his ear much too close to her lips. "and i don't think that was your friend's girlfriend, unless they're trying out an open relationship."

"i just-" he gave a frustrated gesture, looked down at his feet for a moment.

"you what?" you pressed.

he sighed, now flushed. "i just wanted you to look at me."

you both were silent for a beat as you processed his words. you exhaled, took a few steps until you were right in front of him. his eyes flickered down to your mouth, took the long way back up.

you took his face in your hands, his stubble rough under your palms. you knew you didn't imagine the way he softened into you touch.

"surely by now you know you're all i think about," you said, an offering. like some sacrifice at a long-abandoned altar, so terribly desperate, shamefully honest.

so terrible, the way he grabbed at your hip, pulled you forward, against him. so desperate, the way his other hand twisted into your hair.

so shameful, how he captured your lips with his, all brute emotion, sleepy resignation, a million pleas of "look at me" answered with "i never looked away."

so honest, how he just barely whimpered into your mouth when you tightened your grasp on his jaw, kissed him harder. he pulled so slightly on your hair, you slid a hand down to his chest, gathered the collar of his coveralls in your first, trying to get him impossibly closer.

here, you both were practically screaming, here, have some more of me.

someone whistled across the garage. you pulled away from each other with a jump, having gotten a little carried away. quinn flushed on the tips of his ears and shot the culprit a look, which made you let out a light laugh into his chest.

the little rumble made him look down at you, wrap his arms around your waist and clasp them on the small of your back.

you stayed like that for a moment, just looking at each other. stone, molten.

"i have this thing next week," he said eventually, barely anything more than a rasp. "a formal for the team."

you nodded, reached up, twisted a strand of his hair around your finger.

"come with me," he asked, soft. "please."

you didn't have to think about it. "yes."

and so, about a week later, you found yourself at the hockey formal, an event you hadn't known existed a couple of months ago.

the past week had been blissful, but frustrating - you both were so busy, you with schoolwork and tutoring, him with the team. so much so that you could barely see each other outside of your scheduled tutoring session.

needless to say, you were very much looking forward to a weekend away with him. a whole night, just for the two of you.

and the whole night was wonderful. you were introduced to his teammates, saw a new side of him, heard his laugh so many times it made your head spin.

it was all just so easy. even the mess ups, the uncertainty, the silences, those were easy too, because they were with him.

when he stuttered over telling you how beautiful you looked - easy.

when you didn't know how to introduce yourself to his friends, so you just said you were "quinn's..." and then faded out, unsure - that was easy, because you weren't even really lying. your laugh was instinctual, and everyone else's was, too.

when he asked you to dance, reaching his hand out to you, there had never been an easier yes.

you danced with all the beautiful awkwardness of two people who weren't quite sure what they were yet - weren't quite sure how far they could go. there was not a question of how you both felt, but how slow were you taking this?

how slow could you bear?

every touch felt electric, like a gentle flame ignited whereever his hands had been. you felt a shiver erupt when his hand grasped your waist as you both moved together to a simple rhythm.

so up close and personal, you could smell his worn cologne, feel the warmth from his chest.

he gave you a sly smile, something close to a smirk. "okay, doll?"

you bit your lip, peered up at him through your lashes. "you just look so lovely, quinn," you told him, squeezed his hand, gave him a flushed smile. "it's distracting."

he pulled you a little closer, so that your chests were almost touching as you moved across the floor. "yeah?" he asked, his smile lazy, almost shy. "love a suit, do you?"

you tilted your head, met his gaze entirely and absolutely. oh, how much, how deeply you wanted. hadn't your want seemed to fray the fibers of the universe before?

babe, they seemed to remind you, we never cared.

then who was i praying to? you could have asked.

and they would have only shared a look, laughed like two girls at a sleepover.

well, who answered? they would have responded.

what you did do is give a slight shake of your head. "not the suit," you said. "you're distracting."

you watched his eyes become hooded, felt the underlying heat ignite between you. his grip on your waist tightened. "careful, doll," he breathed out, a warning, a plea.

"don't wanna be," you replied. there was a moment of understanding, a pause of anticipation.

"how slow do you want to take this?" almost drowsy with desire, his voice was slow, rough, only for you. "you know i'd go so slow for you, right, doll?"

you nodded. "i know," you assured him, "but i don't want you to."

you thought you heard him mutter a fuck before he was pulling you from the floor, out of the elaborate event room, upstairs to your room at the hotel. everything was a blur as his hand clasped around yours. a desperate escape, fleeing from everything, everyone except him.

and then the door was shutting and he was pushing you up against it, a hand on your hip and the other on your jaw as his lips met yours in a heated kiss that was every bit as desperate, as longing, and terrible and horrible and shameful as the first one.

you were both too far gone to hold back any longer.

you tangled your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck, felt the curls between your fingers.

he tasted like mint and salt and something earthy.

kissing him felt like barbed wire made of gold, flowery rust, somehow the most violent act you had ever committed, yet also the most gentle.

like removing your heart with a cookie cutter, offering it to him on a painted porcelain plate.

you moaned into his mouth, he hissed just a bit as you pulled at his hair.

he pushed his hips up against yours, hiked your leg up around his thigh, making you gasp at the hardness you found across his front.

"more," you murmured against his lips, felt his sly smirk grow against yours.

he moved his hand from your hip to slide up your dress, glide his fingertips along your inner thigh, just barely skirt across your folds. "like this, doll? so wet for me already," he asked, his voice gravelly. "this must be enough then, yeah?"

you shook your head, moved your hips to try to get some friction.

"no?" he said, obviously teasing, "greedy girl, hm? wants even more?" he brought his other hand to your mouth, pressed his thumb against your bottom lip, smirked when you closed your lips around him without a second thought. "what do you say?"

"please," you whined around his hand, in a voice you barely recognized. "please, quinn."

he answered you by dragging his fingers through your folds once before pushing two into you, slow and deep, making you arch your back up off of the door.

"fuck, so tight," he rasped.

you whimpered against his thumb, closed your eyes as you felt his hand move from your mouth to your throat.

"open up, doll," he demanded. "look at me."

you obliged with effort, wrapped an arm around his neck for support, another one bracing the door as he increased his pace, pushing his fingers in and out of you, grazing your clit each time.

your nails dug into his neck as you lost yourself in the sensation, barely registering the way he groaned at the delicious shot of pain.

"this enough, doll?" he cooed, annoyingly smug at how audibly wet you were.

you vigorously shook your head, so desperate to get him to keep going. "no," you pleaded, "fuck, please, quinn, don't stop."

he tightened his hand around your throat just a little, only barely squeezing as he flattened his other palm against your clit, making you moan loudly. "must be ready for me then, yeah?"

you fisted his dress shirt in your hand, pushed yourself off of the door and pulled him onto the bed. "please, need more of you," you begged, nothing more than a prayer, "fuck, want you so bad."

something lovely flooded his gaze as he moved his clothes aside, pulled himself out as you further hiked up your dress.

he spat into his hand, pumped himself up and down in a way that made your mouth water.

you were practically pouting. "please, fuck me, quinn," you said, pathetic and just so fine with it, "'s all i've been thinking about."

and you knew you had said something magical when he groaned and tugged you towards him by the undersides of your thighs, his grip hot and rough, a working man's grip.

"shit," he hissed as he ran his cock up and down your folds once, twice, collecting your wetness there, "'d never say no to you."

you whined when he first pushed into you, so, so deep that you swore you could feel him in the palms of your hands, feel him rattling around in your teeth, behind your eyes.

he moaned like a sinner, clutched at the flesh of your hips so tightly you knew his fingerprints would be left behind later.

as he began to thrust in and out of you, his rhythm hard and even, both of you could barely form words, so lost in the feeling of each other, finally as physically close as you could be.

"fuck," he bit out eventually, his rhythm picking up speed, "so tight, doll. so wet for me, hm?"

you nodded, clenched around him, reached one of your hands forward to rub at your clit, increasing the pressure quickly building inside of you.

he choked out a grunt at the sight of you touching yourself, only making you squeeze him harder. "feels so good, quinn," you whined, "so deep inside me."

he moved one hand up to your calf, hoisted one of your legs up to change his angle, thrusted down into you in a way that hit a dizzying spot inside of you. he kept going, bringing you both closer every minute.

"shit, feel so perfect," he bit out at some point. "made for me, hm?" he asked as you rubbed your clit faster. "squeezing me so perfect, yeah?"

you hummed something like affirmation, your breathing becoming ragged as he hit that spot over and over, his chest rising and falling, his thrusts becoming broken and messy.

"fuck, quinn," you moaned, "fuck, 'm so close."

he groaned. "gonna cum for me, doll?" he asked, letting your calf rest on his shoulder as his hand travelled down to apply only the slightest pressure to your lower stomach.

the sensation, that unique pressure making you feel him impossibly deeper, sent you soaring right to the edge.

"feel you squeezing me," he breathed out, his own voice tight and rough, his chest and stomach flexing as he fought off his own orgasm. "cum for me, doll, yeah? wanna feel you cum on my cock." he squinted with effort. "be good for me, hm?"

and his words sent you spiraling, a wave of pleasure finally crashing, clenching and spasming around him in a way that triggered his own high.

he moaned as he came, his breathing labored as you both collapsed back onto the hotel bed.

effort and satisfaction glowed on your faces, realized desire settling along his cheekbones and on the cupid's bow of your mouth.

there were several moments of easy silence in the warm air, his hand throw lazily around your middle, one of yours resting on his chest.

"can i ask you for something?" you said eventually, looking up at him with tired eyes full of possibility.

"anything, doll," he said, and you remembered back to that first day, in the garage. how easy it was, now, to remember it fondly.

"can i have a kiss, please?" you asked, almost shy, more so gentle.

a smile already played across his mouth. "especially that," he said, eager to comply with your request.

he leaned down to press a fluttering, beautiful kiss to your lips.

well i definitely didn't see this coming, chance stage-whispered to logical reason behind her hand.

i don't really deal with this lovey-dovey kind of stuff, logical reason said, not my thing.

all the divine powers and the fibers of the universe and such, they were silent. perhaps they always had been. perhaps this was much too far out of their jurisdiction.

perhaps it was just none of their business.

fin.

[ryescapades]

can i request Narumi x reader but the reader is similar to Dazai(not really but i forgot who else that i could make an example of) ? Very silly and people underastimate them because of that but when the situation calls for it they're scary as hell.

Maybe Narumi underastimate them at first, and then he saw how scary they actually are but instead of going 100% scared he's like "thats kinda hot"

Maybe the reader is a captain/vice-captain of another division or a platoon leader. Also, make the personality EXTRA silly(the reader is doing it on purpose) like airhead, silly, and very naive (the reader is faking it and people actually fell for that act)

caprice | narumi gen

— three times narumi noticed you during the joint training session between the first and third divisions, slowly getting to know you from afar and the one time he inadvertently decided to fall for you (literally).

genre/warning: gn platoon leader dazai!reader, fluff, inaccurate use of scientific conditions and processes, idk if reader is silly enough here... i tried my best ok TT

a/n: uh another long fic haha thank you for the request!! dazai is actually one of my top kinnies but i'm not sure if this is even good, anon i'm rly sorry if it's not up to your standards 🥲 also here's the menace :3

3.4k wc hoshina | extra

the first time narumi gen met you, a member he'd assumed was from the third division, the only thing that was on his mind was what the fuck?

no, literally.

because what the fuck were you doing being hung upside down in the first division's gym room, discussing about god knows what with his platoon leaders?

"wait, wait, i think i'm finally feeling it!" you squealed, arms expanding to the side to distance the others from your hanging body. "whoa! is it working, is it working?" tachibana inquires excitedly beside an entertained-looking shinonome. "are you really sure this method is even legit?" the latter added, amusement clear in her eyes.

"what the hell are you guys doing?" narumi couldn't help himself from intervening the scene, for the sheer incredulity had taken over him before he even had the time to think it over. the three of you turned to face him in surprise.

his own subordinates straightened up to give him a salute, while it took you a few minutes before you did too. "ara, if it isn't captain narumi himself," you mused. narumi only raised an eyebrow, not shocked in the slightest that you knew him as he waited for a reply to his earlier question. at that, your expression enlightened.

"oh, right! your platoon leaders here were meditating earlier and tachibana-san almost dozed off... so i suggested a method to feel less sleepy. being hung like this makes you feel the blood rushes to your head, you know? it's such an exhilarating feeling for real," you claimed, resulting in the captain to gaze at you questioningly as your thumb and pointer fingers perched below your chin almost proudly.

narumi blinked, thinking about how... odd this person— you— was. is the third division only consisted of weirdos? must be some random low-class officer meeting those two on accident, he thought, shaking his head slightly in disbelief.

it was not long after that when the first division's captain saw you again, this time in the mess hall where you were sitting with some familiar faces from the third division, which only reinforced his theory that you were indeed from the third.

"reno, have you watched the new movie i talked about before?" furuhashi asked, swallowing his food before looking at his fellow officer. "oh, the one with that famous actor from russia? no, i haven't. isn't that movie adult-rated though?" the silver-haired prodigy asked.

"whaaat? why are you children watching movies about people who play hide the salami, huh!?" kafka scolded, causing furuhashi to counter back, "who the heck even says 'hide the salami' these days, old man?!" by then you just arrived with your tray of food, hearing only one-fourth of the sentence when you took a seat beside the older man.

"oohh, are we pranking someone?" you butt in eagerly, joining in the conversation. the other three snapped their heads towards you in confusion. "prank? who said anything about a prank?" reno asked, head tilting to the side.

you smiled, blinking owlishly at his question. "hide the salami? why are we hiding food if not for a prank...?" your eyes bounced between the three men who were sharing awkward glances with each other.

narumi, who had been eavesdropping the whole time, nearly grimaced. so you're odd and... kind of an airhead, in a way. his brain concluded, simply observing when you abruptly pointed your finger at something far to the right, "captain ashiro, look! there's a cute cat over there!!" when ashiro snapped her head so fast, she realized a bit too late to catch your sneaky hand stealing a piece of food from her tray.

"hey, eat your own food!" kafka reprimanded as you happily nibbled on the stolen treasure but ashiro only waved it off, muttering about how she's gotten used to your antics by now, secretly fond of how your delighted expression itself comically resembled a feline creature.

"what are you staring at, baka shisho?" kikoru's jeer interrupted narumi's daze, causing his back to tense. "nothing. can't you go a day without being an annoying pest?" he sneers, which the girl only laughed mockingly at, though surprisingly she didn't notice that the captain was still snooping in to hear the conversation at your table, listening to the many obnoxious and bizarre (yet interestingly smart, he'd begrudgingly admit) ways you'd recommended to prank someone.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

the third time narumi saw you, it was during a joint sparring session between his and the third division. he was initially supposed to be overseeing kikoru and her new numbers weapon suit but the commotion at the central area of the training venue had snatched his, and the other officers' interest instead.

it was you, preparing to spar with hoshina, his nemesis. in hand-to-hand combat, no less. not to add the two of you were going to use real swords, not the dummy ones.

"are they serious? why would they match up against hoshina?" "i know right... they're gonna lose for sure," "yikes, i'm sending early condolences to them right now,"

narumi had to agree with what he heard his division members were whispering about. sure, he sometimes thinks hoshina's skill level is below his own, but to spar with a regular officer? the swordsman is gonna pummel you straight to the ground, no doubt!

however, his chain of thought was eventually cut off when he later noticed that you were holding on your own, superbly at that. with every hit of hoshina's blade, you'd parried with your own and every small opening hoshina had unknowingly exposed, you had taken the advantage by striking just as hard.

the rapid sounds of metal clanging against each other were loud, echoing even. it was plainly and clearly visible to him that you're not just an officer.

narumi called for his disciple, "oi. who's that training with your vice-captain?" he asked, head nodding towards where you and hoshina were still exchanging blows. kikoru glanced at the direction he mentioned before she grinned wide and cheshire-like.

"oh, them. that's one of our newly appointed platoon leaders, y/n-san! such a spectacle to behold, i know! they're from the third, after all!" she boasted. a platoon leader? y/n, huh... narumi could finally put a name to that pretty face.

wait, what? who the hell said that?

the bicolor-haired man shook his head a bit before focusing back at the fight. "what are you gloating for, dumbass. it's not like—" his sentence died midway when suddenly a particular hard swing from hoshina had struck you straight in the face, causing you to stagger backward as your block was seen a little too late to cover the blow.

the atmosphere suddenly became silent and still, narumi's eyes widening in surprise at the same time as hoshina's in guilt when everyone noticed the few drops of blood through your fingers. "shit, sorry! i didn't mean to hit ya that hard! you okay there?"

narumi instinctively took a step towards your direction when your figure started swaying, his eyes unconsciously glaring at the violet-haired man as the latter reached out his palm so that you could show him the bruise but when you gave no reply, eyes downcast and body rigid, hoshina cursed under his breath. "fuck, y/n. i'm so sorry—"

"boo!"

the unexpected sight of your mischievous, uninjured face and only a faintly sliced skin on your palm greeted the crowd. an annoyed mark appeared at the side of hoshina's head. "you cheeky lil' brat! ya had me so worried there!" he scolded, his hands pulling on your cheeks so hard your eyes watered as you whined, "but it was hilarious watching you— ow, ow, vice-captain! that hurts!"

the others seemed to relax, and a few hushed murmurs entered narumi's ears.

"the heck? what a fluke." "right? there's no way they held off for that long. the vice-captain must have gone easy on them."

on the sidelines, narumi's mouth gaped open and then closed like a fish. was that actually a fluke, or are you actually...? he was slightly bewildered, not knowing whether to acknowledge the fact that you are, in fact, such a whimsical and unserious person he almost found it quite endearing (he didn’t bother acknowledging that thought), or that it was unnoticeable by almost everyone else, but he could see the scratches on hoshina's hands and face, the nicks his RT-0001 eyes had detected were done by your sword.

they were indistinct, hardly noticeable, and barely bleeding that it just proved how careful you were in handling your blade. what's more jarring, however, was that his kaiju eyes couldn't miss the deadly and almost murderous look in your eyes when you were exchanging blows with hoshina earlier.

narumi couldn't help but to smirk menacingly as he ran a hand through his locks, feeling enraptured by the sudden realization.

so it's not just hoshina he has to beat. there's you now.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

it was another random tuesday night when the emergency kaiju alarm blared, signalling the entire headquarter of the incoming kaiju attack. in the meeting room together with the captains and other platoon leaders from the third and first divisions, you were briefly discussing strategies and plans for the neutralization process.

"so it's settled, then. two platoon leaders from each division in one sector. make sure to remember where your group is assigned and keep track of any yoju going in and out of your sector before alerting the other platoons of it. this one might get messy," ashiro summarised before everyone briskly moved out, preparing to head to the kaiju location.

narumi, who had been halfheartedly listening to the whole briefing in boredom, pushed away from the wall he was leaning against and headed towards the door, before noticing a lone figure standing by the desk in the middle of the room.

you were staring hard at the splayed out map in front you, hands shoved in your pockets and head tilted to the side in what narumi assumed to be deliberation. what else is there to think about when ashiro already summed up everything? the man thought before he shrugged, leaving you alone in the meeting room.

the mission was supposed to be simple. tedious, sure, but easy enough for the two divisions to handle. take down the honju, then finish off the remaining clusters of its accompanying yoju— it was said they'd go berserk when triggered by the death of the mother— that were scattered throughout the district.

well, until it's not so easy anymore.

once ashiro had shot down the honju using the explosive power of her cannon, all the yoju had indeed, gone ballistic. the battlefield was messy with all the kaiju corpses and rubbles from destroyed buildings.

appointed as one of the main firepower on land, narumi's earpiece dinged, and the voice of one of the operations officer filled his ears. "captain narumi! sector d requested for backup just a few minutes ago but we've recently lost contact with them!"

confusion took over the captain's expression. backup? these lots of yoju barely have a 4.0 fortitude, did a new high-leveled kaiju appear? oh well, another material to be used in increasing my kill count and popularity if that's the case. his mind pondered as he stepped off the dead body of the kaiju he'd just taken down, his bayonet slung over a shoulder.

"aite, on it," straight away on the move, he considered the possibilities of a bigger threat popping up, like another one of no 9's creation, for instance. narumi's expression darkened at the thought.

however, when he arrived at the site, there was no commotion at all. it was rather quiet. he would've thought that no battle had happened here, if not for the concrete debris and kaiju remains laying around. he decided to look around and survey the area, just in case the information he received was just a small miscalculation.

it was not until he realized he had walked for too long that he froze. sector d wasn't supposed to cover this much space, so why were there so many corpses outside of the neutralization area? narumi tried connecting his earpiece, only for it to let out a series of crackles. this is where they lost connection, huh? he thought.

a sudden movement to his left had him going stiff before he swiftly and sharply spun, bayonet ready in his hand. irritation took over his expression when he saw that it's just an officer. "hey, i almost took your head! be more mindful next time, will you?" he chastised, causing the officer to bow profusely, cowering away from his large weapon. "i apologise, captain narumi! i was just wondering what are you doing here... the neutralization is already finished in this part of the sector."

"haah?? operations said you guys needed backup. what's up with that?" he complained, glaring at the officer who he assumed was from the third division since he wasn't a familar face to narumi at all. "oh, that's already been dealt with! platoon leader y/n had it all planned out!" narumi halted at that, now intrigued so he told the officer to fill him in on what happened prior to the mission.

---

"psst, you two! come here for a sec," the men in question, toma and ryu turned when they had heard you calling for them a few feet away from the mixed group of first and third divisions soldiers in sector d. "yes! what is it, platoon leader?"

"mind helping me out for a bit?" as they immediately nodded their heads, you straight promptly explained what you wanted them to do. "so we just need to be on the lookout with you at the communication towers outside the sector?"

"ding, ding! that's correct! if you see a kaiju coming your way, just lure it back to your original post where everybody else is. i'll be staying back to tweak out some electricals at the radio masts." you stated.

with the yoju having a bat-like behavior, you'd theorized that they would use ultrasonic echolocation to create a radio wave disturbance that could badly affect the earpieces you're using. despite how low the kaiju's fortitude is, it's immense intellect make up for most of that small number.

that's why the yoju would've probably target the region with the densest wave energy, which is the telecommunication towers. with its echolocation and your communication devices pulsing simultaneously, they would interfere with each other and cause an overlap of frequencies. hence, communication lost between officers would highly likely happen.

"that's fine and all, but y/n-san... if the kaiju really is how you speculate it, what if there's a lot of them coming at once?" toma asked worriedly. "you'll die, of course." you simply answered, making the officers screech in horror, "WHAT??!!"

letting out a chuckle, you waved a hand in dismissal. "don't worry. if there are many of them appearing, just leave them be and return to your post,"

toma and ryu exchanged a look. "but then we'd be leaving you alone, y/n-san!" the latter wailed. at that, you hummed thoughtfully, "hm... i'll be the one dying then," you said matter of factly.

"Y/N-SAN!!!"

"how about we do rock-paper-scissors to decide who's fixing the comms?"

"this is not the time to joke around, platoon leader!"

you belted out a laugh at their unified shriek of despair. "it's fine, it's fine! put a little trust on me, yeah? if there's nothing else, i'll head on first. i'll be counting on you guys!"

---

"turned out the kaiju that emerged really did behave exactly like how platoon leader y/n had expected. i kind of felt bad for the first division officers that were assigned together with us because they weren't informed about the plan," toma, narumi had learned of his name, said.

narumi stood there, a tinge of amazement sitting in the far back of his mind at the thought of how meticulous you had been in planning your own strategies. although he was a bit annoyed that you didn't bother telling your fellow platoon leader or superiors— ashiro, hoshina, or him, even— about it. your officers were right; you could've died.

toma was about to add more when your sheepish voice in his earpiece caught his attention. "nee, nee, toma. are you free right now? or anybody, really. i've fixed the signals since it got altered again but uh, i kind of need some help with all these yoju around me," you said, not in the slightest worried about how dangerous the situation you were in right now.

in fact, you sounded like you were casually talking about fixing a broken lamp instead of trying to adjust the freaking junction boxes while being surrounded by a bunch of kaiju.

narumi zeroed in when toma cried out your name. "what? you said you already neutralized all of them, y/n-san! what do you mean there's more?!"

the first division captain immediately snatched the earpiece, completely unapologetic in his action. "your location, platoon leader?" he ordered. "i'm still at the comms towers— oya? is this captain narumi i hear?" he didn't bother answering before he was already running (not before tossing the earpiece back to its owner), leaving behind a flabbergasted toma.

when narumi eventually stepped past the metal fences enclosing the area where you were at, the rosiness of his irises detected not just the piles of dead monsters but also a horde of still-alive kaiju swarming around a radio mast. his eyes twitched, visibly annoyed now that he knew why his earpiece had been giving out static noises one too many times ever since he entered sector d.

he made a quick work of taking them down, slicing away and shooting at every kaiju that came his way. at one point, he heard a faint sound behind him. narumi was about to turn and finish off the kaiju that was ambushing him, but then there was a slight change in the air. it was heavy, and it was approaching fast.

suddenly, a figure dropped from above, plunging the kaiju straight in the core so swiftly narumi almost thought he saw a lightning strike right in front of his very eyes. with a power so dense it almost rivaled his own, the man could only stare as blood sprayed out from the dead monster, raining down on both him and you.

sweet lord, it was you.

with your personal weapon in hand, standing so gracefully on top of the corpse it had his breath stuttering in his chest.

fuck, that was so hot, narumi unconsciously thought.

you, with blood smeared everywhere on your face and suit, finally connected your eyes with his. "oh, captain narumi! i didn't think you'd actually come here," you exclaim. when he gave no reply, your eyebrows raised in curiosity. "did you get injured, captain? why are you on the ground?"

it was only then that he noticed that he was down on his knees (narumi? the narumi gen?? kneeling???), his own weapon laid at his side, neglected. what the hell? he refused to admit how powerful and magnificent you were that it had him forgetting about your little naivety, that it had him weak in the knees.

he shook himself out of his embarrassing stupor before quickly standing back up. "good... i'm good," narumi internally cursed at himself when he realized his voice quivered midway.

"anyway, what in the world was that?! your officer said you didn't inform my platoon of your little plan here!" he fussed.

"ah, that! it was a gamble actually. i didn't want to risk the lives of those who haven't worked with me enough to understand how i operate in this line of work. my subordinates knew what they were in here for," you explained, nonchalantly wiping away the red liquid from your face.

a gamble on your life, basically. narumi frowned at that. he was about to comment more when you turned away, though your face was still directed at him. "well, in any case, i think i should be thanking you, captain." you sent him a cheeky grin.

"huh, what for?"

"you said i was hot earlier. thanks!" with that, you dashed away to handle the remaining kaiju, leaving behind a flustered and rigid narumi gen as he watched you go on a killing spree.

in spite of your beauty and grace, in his eyes, you ain't no angel, no. you're a goddamn valkyrie, an ethereal being dancing with death in the middle of a bloody battlefield. and he— his heart, is a mere soldier ready and willing to be lead by you to the gates of heaven, he realised.

jp phrases used >> おや (oya), ねぇ ねぇ (nee nee)

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[another-lost-mc]

a new dating sim catches your eye and asmo is absolutely 100% not jealous at all.

a date with death | asmodeus x gn!reader

cw: sfw (slightly suggestive towards the end). pet names (asmo calls reader darling, sunshine). vague spoilers for parts of the game (up to day five). silly fluff and jealousy over 2d characters.

word count: 1.2k words

a/n: I really like this game (a date with death) btw, I definitely recommend it.

"I tried that new game you've been playing."

Asmo's comment catches you off-guard and your eyes slowly blink open. You were on the verge of sleep, warm and content with his chest pressed against your back and his arm draped loosely over your waist. The words are muffled slightly against your shoulder, his lips leaving a sticky trail from the hydrating mask he smoothed over them as part of his nightly skincare routine.

You've been playing a new dating sim lately. You knew Asmo peered at the monitor over your shoulder to see what you were up to, but he didn't seem all that interested. He didn't give any indication that he wanted to play it himself, either.

It's not the first romance-based game you've played in the Devildom and he never cared before. He thinks it's cute when you find a character that appeals to you. Sometimes he watches you play through the stories, or he'll listen with a smile while you talk about the game later.

When you offered to play other games with him in the past, he insisted that was Levi's area of expertise. That didn't prevent him from finding his own ways to enjoy your hobby with you though. He preferred to indulge you with a little bit of roleplay instead: parading around his room dressed like your favourite characters, imitating their speech patterns and mannerisms to sweep you off your feet, and seducing you as if they had come to life.

(Later, he seduced you properly as himself because no one can ever love you as much as he does).

But he knew right away that this particular game was different. You giggled at your desk while you tapped away at your computer. It made you smile in a soft and charming sort of way. It irked him that some pictures and words on a screen drew that sort of reaction from you the same way he did.

You lean back and glance at him over your shoulder. His expression is hard to read in the dark, but you can feel the heavy weight of his stare on your face. "I didn't know you wanted to play it. You should've told me! Did you like it?"

"Not at all," he declares firmly, and you can't help but chuckle at his sharp response.

"Really? Why not?"

"I'm so glad you asked, darling," he says as he turns over and sits up suddenly. He flips on the lamp beside him, and he rubs the back of his hand against your cheek in apology when you wince as light illuminates his room. He plucks something off the bedside table and waves it in your direction with a flourish. "I made a list!"

You give him a skeptical look as you roll over to give him your full attention, and he clears his throat and taps the top of the page. "My first complaint is the ridiculous title: I Made a Bet and Have to Survive the Next Seven Days Without Falling in Love With a Babygirl Reaper Who Wants My Soul! Seriously? The title alone should warn you how terrible it's going to be."

"That's not what it's called in the human world," you explain with a shrug. "I don't understand why they changed it here, it's a little bit silly."

He tsks under his breath. "Silly indeed. Where do I even begin with this so-called love interest? It's almost like the creators have never met a real reaper before. I can assure you most of them aren't as nice or cute as they make him out to be." The look he shoots you next is oddly serious, and it sends a chill up your spine as his words sink in. "I recommend not getting too close to their kind. Thirteen seems docile enough, but I prefer your body and soul to remain in one piece."

You're not sure how to begin to respond to that little speech, but he pokes the paper with his finger and continues reading his list of "glaring issues" with the game. The complaints get more ridiculous and obscure, and it's only when he gets to the bottom of the page that the reason for his sour mood dawns on you.

"...and when I thought it couldn't get any worse, he calls you 'sunshine.' He has some nerve - that's what I call you. Remember when Mammon thought it would be funny to call you his sunshine too?" A dangerous gleam twinkles in his eyes before it disappears just as quickly. "At least he learned not to do that again," he murmurs under his breath.

You shuffle over on your knees and swing your leg over his thighs so you can sit in his lap. "Do you have any other complaints on that little list of yours?" you ask him with a teasing smile.

He huffs in frustration and his frown is adorable - of course he has one more grievance to share. "That stupid reaper doesn't even know your favourite flower. Tomorrow I'm going to buy you the biggest and most beautiful bouquet you've ever seen."

He finally drops the paper but neither of you spare it a second glance as it falls over the side of the bed and flutters to the floor. He wraps his arms around you and squeezes your waist gently, slumping his head against your chest with a drawn-out sigh. "I don't see what you like about him."

"Oh, Asmo." You run your hands gently through his hair as you hide your smile against the crown of his head. "Are you telling me there's a video game character you're actually jealous of?"

"Of course not," he mumbles into your collarbone, mouthing softly at the skin with little flicks of his tongue but it's not quite enough to distract you. "I wanted to see what all the hype was about." His teeth graze the bottom of your throat and you swallow down a quiet moan. "I found it extremely disappointing, by the way."

You cradle his jaw gently and tilt his head up so you can kiss the corner of his mouth. "You're so cute when you pout," you coo softly, just to watch how his cheeks turn pink. "I hope you know that he could pop into existence and appear outside your window right now, and I still wouldn't be interested in him. He's not you."

The words seem to soothe him a bit if the purring in his chest is anything to go by. You kiss the tip of his nose and let out a quiet squeak when he grasps the back of your neck and pulls you down so he can kiss you.

Repeatedly.

"You're right, darling." Kiss. "He's completely irrelevant," kiss "and I've already forgotten what his name is."

The world tilts suddenly as Asmo flips you onto your back and braces his weight on his hands. You giggle when he leans down and noses along your jaw. One of his hands slowly glides down your chest and tugs at the hem of your shirt, lifting it up and tossing it aside without a second thought.

"Let's see if I can make you forget his name too, hmm?"

read more: asmodeus masterlist | obey me masterlist

[hoes4hoseok]

enhypen as the tortured poets department

pairings :: ot7 x gn!reader (if i accidentally slipped in a gender-related mistake please let me know!) genres :: angst & fluff warnings :: swearing, alcohol, mentions of food, sorta emotional cheating, reader being down bad ™️ word count :: 2.1k author’s note :: thanks to ogs @sunoosill and @fandomgirl489 for helping me hehe love you guys! also i kind of tried something new with this one, they're actual little fics this time so let's see how it's recieved 😭 that being said i lowkey hate this. i started doubting all my choices once i was like 60% done but this took an embarrassingly long time. also this is unedited because i'm sick of this draft. i hope y'all enjoy though!

ni-ki as my boy only breaks his favorite toys

“i felt more when we played pretend than with all the kens cause he took my out of my box, stole my tortured heart, left all these broken parts, told me i’m better off, but i’m not”

ni-ki swept 👏 you 👏 off 👏 your 👏 feet 👏 when you first met

because he doesn't seem like he'd necessarily approach a relationship the same way as everyone else just because everyone else is doing it

so when he asked you out he was pretty nonchalant about it (even if that wasn’t how he was feeling)

&& it all felt so romantic because you’d do things like get dessert in the middle of the night & then drive into the hills together 

especially because he didn’t treat you the same way as the other people he dated — a fact his friends confirmed.

he was passive about it all before you.

there wouldn’t be any doubt that he loved you because he most certainly did

not to be cliché but he made you see the world differently! & more importantly, he made you see romantic relationships differently

but you could tell that he had a sense of uncertainty around you

not because he was uncertain about his feelings for you

but an uncertainty that told him that he needed to spend each moment like it could be taken away from him in the blink of an eye

he knew he was feeling too much — he knew you were feeling too much

because ultimately, he was unsure about whether he was right for you.

so he left you, promising that you’d be better off without him.

you weren’t.

sunoo as down bad

“for a moment i knew cosmic love, now i’m down bad, crying at the gym”

sunoo would be such a good boyfriend on paper

he'd buy you flowers & give great hugs, of course, but he'd also be supportive & reassure you when you felt insecure and unsure about your place in the world

that being said, sunoo is not one to string people along

so the moment he realized that he wasn’t 100% in, he made a plan to end things & he did.

&&...losing sunoo fucked you up. it would fuck anyone up, to be fair.

finding out that he was leaving you when the relationship was everything to you would catch you off guard, to say the least.

he probably left feeling proud of himself for doing everything right too LMAO 😭 

&& yes, i don't think it's anything he did that made it so bad

it's just that break-ups suck & you really loved him! even if he “did everything right”

no matter how it transpired, you were still in shambles at the end 

you broke down in tears at the sight of anything that made you think of him

from the smell of gardenias in a grocery store

‘he bought me those 🤧! for our first anniversary 🤧!’

to the most upbeat song you’ve ever heard coming on shuffle while you work out

‘he loved that song’ (even if you couldn’t stand it)

&& you really hoped he was feeling a shred of what you were 

but it sure as hell didn’t seem that way.

jungwon as fresh out the slammer

“all those nights, you kept me going, swirled you into all of my poems”

you & jungwon had a lot of your own problems to deal with the first time you dated

likely because he had a lot on his plate at the time as an idol & you were just at different places in your lives

&& even though your brain was telling you not to, you fell in love fast

he’d taken you to a quiet spot in his hometown that he used to go to when he was overwhelmed as a kid

it was an old swingset at the park where, somehow, everything else had been renovated

the two of you sat there for hours with your hands entwined, talking about your futures 

&& the possibility of them ending in the same place.

it felt childish & implausible, but you wanted to believe it

&&, as the break up proved to you, it was, in fact, childish & implausible to believe that your lives could magically become compatible

you tried to move on, you really did. you dated other people for years. 

one boyfriend stuck around for four years. a coworker. your future with him felt written in stone.

he was good to you, but there was a part of your heart that yearned for more

the part that yearned for the type of connection you had on the swingset all those years ago

you didn't spend that time waiting for jungwon — you accepted that you were going to spend your life content with your boyfriend

but you sometimes thought about what it would be like if you met jungwon under different circumstances or another life where his career wasn’t so controlling and demanding of him

you would smile listening to his music (that you subconsciously hoped was about you) 

&& checked how he was doing online periodically

but then you were single. it was something your boyfriend said about not seeing a future here. not seeing a future with you. when you gave him four years of your life. 

you knew you should have felt more, that you should have been torn apart for months

but a week later, you picked up the phone & dialed the number that had been seared into your brain for six years

“y/n?”

his voice was almost a whisper.

“do you think you could take me to that park again tonight?”

“i’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

“thank you.”

“y/n?”

“yeah?”

“i missed you.”

heeseung as the alchemy

“where’s the trophy? he just comes running over to me”

when you started dating heeseung, you knew it would be really easy for him to put you low on his priority list being an idol

&& you wouldn’t have blamed him for that 

because your careers are important, especially at this point in your lives (also your exes probably did that with much less demanding jobs)

but he didn’t! he told you it would be tough but that he’d try his best to make sure you had time together even with his insane packed schedule

&& try he did omg 🤭 that man put in the WORK

he would show up towards the end of your workday just to whisk you off on a date 🫶

which you not-so-secretly loved for two reasons:

one: it reminded you that he loved you & valued your career as much as you valued his

two: he’s really hot. so it’s fun to see everyone’s reaction to him showing up heehee

&& after your workday he’d take you wherever you wanted

but you’re indecisive at times, so he’d just guess sometimes.

it was usually your favorite restaurant or a massage parlor, but once he literally took you to the airport for a getaway? who knows what he has planned lmfao

you loved getting surprised by your boyfriend, of course, but the nights when you were at his concert to support him? those meant the world to you.

you swore that you’d never forget the look on his face when he realized you were in the crowd the first time you surprised him

but honestly? his excitement never faltered. he still wears that childish grin every time he sees you showing up for him

&& the post concert kisses are incomparable to all the others 

because he kisses you like you’re the stars in a rom-com. every. damn. time — whether it’s backstage or in front of 20,000 people.

jay as chloe or sam or sophia or marcus

“if you want to break my cold, cold heart, just say ‘i loved you the way that you were’”

jay was hurting you

with every instagram post he uploaded with a woman you didn’t recognize,

at every red carpet appearance where he had someone else on his arm,

with every polite smile he greeted you with when you crossed paths.

you broke up with him. years ago, at that. you had no right to feel this way.

his mind seemed scattered in your time together & he was unsure about most everything

at first, it had seemed like you were the exception to that.

until you weren’t.

when you broke it off, you told him you loved him. & that maybe you always would.

he might have loved you.

but if that was the case, he never told you.

on occasion, you thought about how he felt seeing you date around aimlessly.

had he done the mature thing & moved on?

did his jaw clench seeing another man kiss you the same way it did before you dated?

did he care about what you were thinking as much as you did about him? 

there were times that you’d stare at his contact, finger hovering above the ‘call’ button

almost hoping your finger would slip so you’d have the chance, the smallest chance to hear him say

“i loved you the way that you were.”

(i really want to write a oneshot about this actually? maybe?)

jake as so high school

“get my car door, isn’t that sweet, then pull me to the backseat, no one’s ever had me, not like you”

jake was so obsessed with you before y’all started dating HEHE probably from the first time that he had a conversation with you!

he was so enthralled by the way you think & see the world

&& he blushed and stumbled on his words every time he talked to you for months & his friends would tease him RELENTLESSLY

he got so nervous before following you on social media that he had to employ his friends to help.

“guys, just press it for me. i can’t look!”

he probably thought about asking you out on many occasions but chickened out for one reason or another every time

but then he saw you at the local convenience store while he was out getting ramen at 2 a.m. — or rather, you saw him.

"jake?" he'd know that voice anywhere. oh god oh god oh god oh god

he needed a moment to compose himself, but he pulled himself together enough to look up at you & greet you properly <3

his stress slipped away fairly fast after that & you found yourselves shopping for your respective midnight snacks together

"have you tried this one? it's probably my favorite limited edition flavor" you had said, pointing to your favorite candy

which, naturally, he responded to by pulling a handful into his basket 😚

you didn't know whether he wanted to try it because you liked it or he was buying it for you, but either way, you found it endearing

after you both paid, jake took your groceries in his other hand, declaring that he'd carry them to your car for you

which, of course, wasn't possible. you had walked.

😧...😟...😶...🤔...☝️😲 "i could give you a ride! i don't want you walking home alone at this hour. or i could call you an uber if you're not comf—"

"i'd really like that"

&& then his heart would damn near explode at the sight of your smile. because how could it not.

he fumbled with the bags before opening the passenger door for you

&& on the drive there he'd stare at you with heart eyes while you talked at every red light

you'd have to tell him it turned green because he was just so distracted hehe

oh my god not this being my second fic about jake driving you home,, 🫣 IT'S FUNNY BECAUSE I DON'T PLAN THESE I JUST GO WITH WHAT FEELS RIGHT

i'm just hilarious, this does not show anything about what i want irl, absolutely nothing.

sunghoon as i look in people’s windows

"what if your eyes looked up & met mine one more time?"

you & sunghoon had a mutual break up, but it didn't feel that way a month after it happened

especially not when you were walking alone down the street his friend lived on & noticed the light shining through the large window

contrary to what you told yourself (i don’t even care if he’s in there) you approached the warm light warily

you didn’t really know whether you were hoping to see him in there, but you did — he was laughing with a few people, glass of wine in hand

&&…you weren’t expecting a flood of memories to overcome you in the way they did.

memories from when you were invited. memories from when you called them “our” friends & not “his” friends. memories from when you were the one making him laugh.

you didn’t notice your mouth fall agape or the tears welling in your eyes until sunghoon met your gaze with a tilt of his head, his smile falling as he registered your presence

for a moment, your mind rushed to decipher the look on his face — the way his eyebrows were slightly furrowed, the way his mouth fell agape too — the same expressions you used to be able to read so well.

finally tearing your gaze from sunghoon, you noticed his friends turning back to look out for whatever it was that made their friend so unsettled

they never saw you. you ran before they could.

perhaps if you had stayed a moment longer, you would have heard the front door open.

txt version ☆ midnights version ☆ masterlist

[cosyvelvetorchid]

Buck and Tommy run into Tommy's HS girlfriend who has no idea he's gay and Buck decides to have a little fun with it.

This was fun to write, thank you!

You can send bucktommy, saltommy or Tommy prompts to my ask.

Thanks 🩶

*****

Tommy pushed the cart down the aisle as Buck scanned the shelves, placing the baking ingredients in it.

"How many cookies are you making?" Tommy asked seeing the sheer amount of flour Buck had added.

"Around 100. Gotta make sure there's enough for all the kids at Christopher's school bake sale."

"Right. Do you- oh crap." Tommy quickly turned around. "Act small."

"What?" Buck questioned, confused.

"Just act small. Like we're not here. Let's go -"

"Tommy? Tommy Kinard?" The voice sang from behind them.

"Ah shit." Tommy muttered through gritted teeth. He sighed before plastering a fake smile across his face and turning around.

"Sonia!" He greeted in a tone that Buck didn't recognise. It was sort of sing-songy, which was totally not Tommy. The short, bleached blonde woman click-clacked in her high heels over to them and hugged Tommy tightly.

"It's been far too long!"

"Sure, yeah." Tommy agreed in a tone that wasn't quite believable. The woman didn't seem to notice.

"Uh, Evan, this is Sonia, we went to high school together. Sonia, this is-"

"Went to high school together?" Sonia interrupted. "Tommy, you know that's not quite accurate." She tapped his chest with her finger as though to chastise him. "We were high-school sweethearts!"

"Is that so?" Buck asked with an amused smirk as he looked at Tommy. Tommy's face was pinking up with a hint of embarrassment, and Buck found it highly amusing.

"Uh-huh." Sonia nodded. "In fact, I still remember prom night as though it were yest-"

"So.." Tommy interrupted this time, in desperation for a subject change. "What are you up to these days?"

"Oh, I'm a mom now. I got 5 kids."

"Five?!" Tommy said incredulously.

"Yep. Oldest just turned 18 and my youngest is 6 months old." She said, smiling. "You got kids?" She asked

"Uh, no," He threw a quick glance to Buck. "Not, uh.. not yet."

"Hey, do you happen to have any photographs of Tommy in high-school?" Buck interjected.

"Evan.." Buck ignored his boyfriend and focused on Sonja.

"I actually do. Not on my phone though."

"Tommy, why don't you give Sonia your email address?" He told him with a grin.

"I don't really, uh, use email all that much." He tried to argue. Buck waved his words away.

"That's alright. You can have mine. It's firehose118 at Gmail dot com. 

"Really?" Tommy and Sonia replied in unison. Tommy with a raised eyebrow.

"What? It's old. Anyway, send me any pictures you have. He would love to see them." Buck was practically vibrating at the idea. 

"Sure." Sonia told him. "So, are you married?" She asked Tommy, curling a strand of hair around her finger.

"No, I'm not married. Yet." He added the last word and caught Bucks eye.

"We should definitely have dinner then."

"Thanks, but I'm actually seeing someone." He smiled softly.

"Is it serious?" She asked, hopeful.

"Very." He replied without having to think about the answer.

"She doesn't have to kno-" her phone rang in her bag and she huffed before answering the call. "What do you want?...When?....for god sake...Well can't your father pick you up?...fine...." She hung the phone without saying goodbye.

"One of my kids has had an accident at school I gotta go pick them up. You-" She pulled out a card from the pocket in her bag and handed it to Tommy "-should call me. We'll have a few drinks to.. catch up." It was clear by the flirty glint in her eye what 'catch up' meant. "It's was good seeing you, Tommy." She reached up and left a longer than appropriate kiss on his cheek.

"Oh!" Tommy uttered as her hand grabbed his ass before she turned a click-clacked away.

"Call me!" She yelled out before turning at the end of the aisle. Tommy stood silent, blinking in shock at what just happened. His eyes eventually made their way to Buck who was standing grinning.

"You enjoyed that, didn't you?"

"Every minute." He admitted with that same grin. Tommy shook his head. "I've just never seem you so.. not squared away. I never knew that the big, strong, firefighter pilot Tommy Kinard even had the ability to be nervous." Buck teased.

"Shut up." Tommy teased back.

"So prom night, huh? Honestly, I kinda assumed that you'd never had sex with a girl."

"I haven't. I mean, that night we did.. stuff. But when she put her hand down my pants and I found myself picturing Jonny, the captain of the football team instead on Sonia-" He slid a hand around Bucks waist and leaned into his ear "-I kinda realised that boys were more my thing." He punctuated his words with a kiss to Bucks cheek.

"Remind me to thank her, then, when she emails me those pictures." Buck smiled and Tommy groaned with embarrassment at the thought of Buck seeing those photographs.

[findafight]

Wait. Wait. Kinda part 2 to this post. For the angst of it all. Cw: implied and assumed homophobia

Because sure, after that dinner Joyce relents in not being, y'know, openly confused or frustrated with Steve being around. El obviously adores him and Jim is always glad when he comes around. Joyce can put up with Steve for them. But she's a stubborn woman, and somewhere in her mind, Steve is a Bad Egg. So she's still not 100% on board.

All this rears its head one night after a lot of their world saving group has had a movie night and ended up in a puddle on the floor. Steve is squished between Robin and Eddie, snuggled up all cozy. Joyce sees this when she quietly pads out of her bedroom to just. Check on the kids.

Eddie and Steve are sat up, Robin's face pressed against his hip. They're whispering something, heads leaned close. And they lean in further, silhouetted by the moonlight filtering in, and kiss. It's pretty chaste, though not a peck.

Joyce's blood boils. Steve has a girlfriend, he should not be going around kissing his friends like that, stringing them all along. She feels strangely vindicated, that her assumptions about Steve were right, that he wasn't actually a good guy or had changed at all. She almost yells at him then and there, but holds off. No need to wake everyone up. She can lecture him in the morning.

Once everyone is fed and lounging in the late morning, she pulls Steve out onto the porch.

"I saw you kiss Eddie last night" she says, without preamble. "And I cannot believe you would think behaviour like that is acceptable in my house."

Steve blinks, clenches his jaw. "Jo--Mrs Byers. I--"

"I don't want any of your excuses! It's despicable what you're doing, and I won't have it. For whatever reason, those kids look up to you. What kind of example are you setting for them? For El?" Steve's eyes widen, and if Joyce hadn't been so caught up with her anger she probably would have seen that instead of being ashamed or embarrassed, Steve is scared. "She looks up to you so much, though I can't imagine why. You need to clean yourself up, Steve. For real this time. You can't go around doing whatever you want. It's disgusting and disrespectful. Did you even consider the people you'd hurt? How doing shit like that would affect the lives of people who care about you? They deserve better than that." She shakes her head. Arms crossed. Steve is tense in front of her, but he doesn't say anything. To her, that's as good as confession. "Everyone talks about how you've worked hard to improve yourself, become a better person. But after last night? I just don't believe it. No one who's really changed, really a good person, would do what you did." She sighs. "You should probably leave now."

Steve nods stiffly. "Right. I'll. Uh, I leave. Can you...please, don't tell anyone, ma'am. I'll Grab my bag and I'll get outta your hair, but don't tell. I'm so sorry. Please." She purses her lips. His girlfriend deserves to know, but Joyce has no clue who that is (it might be the Robin girl attached to his hip, but she has no way of knowing). She nods once. Steve's shoulders slump.

Stepping back into the house, Steve quickly and jerkily snags his backpack from the corner it was shoved into before leaning over to whisper something in Robin's ear. The girl nods, looking worried.

He doesn't look at Eddie.

For a while, her house is Steve-free. Joyce breathes easy, hoping their talk was a wake-up call for steve. He is painfully polite when they bump into each other, Robin usually by his side with a strained customer service smile. Small talk is non-existent.

But then Will starts getting quieter. Maybe avoiding her. Certainly does his best to be small and doesn't look in her eyes. She has no idea what's going on, and she's worried.

What if the Upside Down came back? What if there's something wrong with her boy? What if everything they've fought for and sacrificed didn't mean anything and it's never actually over?

She tries to talk to him, but he shrugs her off, says he's fine and not to worry about it. Assures her it is definitely not the Upside Down.

Finally, after two weeks of Will looking absolutely miserable when he talks to her, she gets Jonathan to try. Tension around the house is high, Steve is barely around and always skitters away when he sees her, and in combination with will, it's out everyone on edge.

She doesn't mean to eavesdrop. But she doesn't not mean to either. It's just that they're on the porch, and she was in the kitchen and heard something, and when she went to see, she heard them talking.

"it's not--i want to tell you but it's not my secret to tell."

Jonathan sighs. "Will. I can't help if I don't know what's wrong. Please. Talk to me. I'll love you no matter what, you know that."

Will heaves a breath. "I had a talk with Steve --" and oh, the rage in Joyce's chest when she hears that. What did he say to her boy?? "And...uhg. fuck. Okay, you have to swear, swear! You're not going to tell anyone what I'm going to tell you. If you figure it out, because I don't. It's not mine to tell."

"okay. I swear. I won't go spilling Steve's secrets."

"you have to mean it, Jonathan. It's dangerous!"

There's ruffling fabric. Jonathan's voice is softer. "I promise."

"Steve said he was telling me because he thought we might be...similar. In some ways. And he talked about who he's dating. And that Hopper and El and Robin and Eddie know. And that they're all safe. Y'know? Like you are."

"okay..."

"and I said you were, and he said that was really good, and then emphasized that if I ever wanted like, and actual grown up to talk to, not just another teenager, Hopper was safe. But. The way he said it made it seem like...I don't know, but something was off? And I asked him." There's a pause. "I asked him if Mom knew. And he said yes. But he hadn't... Before that, he hadn't said she was safe. Jonathan..."

Something...wasn't adding up. Joyce was trying to puzzle what she wouldn't be safe to talk to about. She'd been in the tunnels and Upside Down and through it all. Her children, and by extension the children that had helped save them, were always safe in her house. To come to her if they felt unsafe. Why Steve would tell her own son she wasn't --

Will continued. "Steve said that it'd probably be different because I'm her kid, y'know? She--she did all this stuff to get me back and to keep me safe and loves me. So she could. So she'd maybe change her mind. For me."

"Will..." Jonathan's voice sounds pained.

"but what if she's not? What if that's where it ends? Shell save me from a demogorgon but not love me for this. Steve's saved my friends half a dozen times, Jonathan! He got--he got tortured" that is not something Joyce knew. When the hell did that happen? "with Robin to protect Dustin and Erica, Billy beat him half to death when he stepped in to protect Lucas and Max! He's good! I'm not as close to him as the others but he still told me. He trusted me enough with a secret that I can't even say outloud about myself yet! And Mom still-" will hiccups, and Joyce wishes she knew what he was talking about. Wishes he was saying these things to her, so she could comfort him.

Heaving a breath, Will is quieter. "Steve's the reason no one's died. He's El's first brother. And she still called him disgusting for-- for kissing someone he loves."

Ice fills Joyce's veins, a heavy pit balls in her stomach. Because that's not--she didn't--it wasn't like that.

But Steve had begged her not to tell anyone. Had stood still and not tried to justify anything and called her ma'am when he asked her not to tell. Held himself still when she was around and bolted at the first possible opportunity, leaving disappointed people in his wake. Oh, shit. Oh, she's fucked up so badly. Hurt some kid because she was suspicious of him from over three years ago and assumed the worst. Instead of realizing that maybe the reason he and his girlfriend were keeping it quiet was because he didn't have a girlfriend at all, and that the boy he kissed that night was his boyfriend, she had just assumed he was cheating. And then she'd told him he was disappointing and disgusting and a bad influence on the kids. Even after, he still made sure Will knew there were safe people around, that he'd have someone to talk to. And all she'd done was make him scared of her.

"oh, buddy."

Will's voice is muffled, and Jonathan has probably pulled him into a hug. It cracks when he speaks. "how can she say that about Steve but still love me? When so much of this shit's been my fault?"

"none of this is your fault. Don't believe that, will. No one blames you or El for any of it. You know that, right?"

"okay..."

"it's true. And as for mom...I don't know." Jonathan huffs "I'm not sure. I'm sorry, buddy."

Joyce turns then, feeling sick. She shouldn't have eavesdropped on her children, but now she had she was going to make things right. Hopefully.

Ensure everyone, including Steve, knew she was safe.

Part 3

[lnfours]

🍊 prompt : cooking for one another

Reader is feeling homesick & lan makes y/n’s favourite pasta dish which her mum makes & he got the recipe from her mum to make reader feel at home in Monaco 🥹🥹🥹 the thought of this is making my heart MELT

my heart is absolutely, 100% melting. i love this with my whole soul

11.8k friends to lovers sleepover

you walked into the kitchen to see lando at the stove, reading something on his phone as he stood over the pot. you could recognize the smell of your mom's homemade pasta dish anywhere, but watching him as he followed every step precisely made your heart swoon. if you weren't already in love with this man, you were now.

"whatcha making?"

he jumped around, your newfound presence in the kitchen catching him off guard. he cleared his throat before speaking, "uhm, cooking..?"

you knew what he was doing, but you wanted him to tell you why he had spent his time calling your mom and copying the recipe down word for word to make sure it was perfect.

"what're you making?" you took a seat on top of the countertop next to him, smiling as the dish was already looking almost identical to the one your mom would make for you all the time.

"uhm," he stammered, "so, you said you were feeling homesick the other day, so i uh... i called your mom and i asked her to send me the recipe for her homemade feta pasta.."

you smiled, your heart clenching in your chest as you watched the man you were falling in love with all over again stir the ingredients in the pot. the thoughtfulness and the attention to detail to make sure everything was perfect almost bringing tears to your eyes.

"so you called my mom and asked her for the recipe to my favorite dish so that i could feel less upset about not being home?"

he nodded, knowing it sounded crazy, but he was for you, so it just made sense, "... yeah."

i love you was right on the tip of your tongue, but instead you said, "well, it smells the same so it's promising so far."

"wanna taste?" he asked, holding the spoon out for you, "i mean, it's not done yet but you could tell me if i'm missing anything."

you nodded, taking the wooden spoon from his hands before tasting the sauce. you hummed, nodding in approval as you licked your lips, "pretty spot on, i'm impressed."

he smiled, eyes wandering over your face before they locked on the small bit of sauce on the corner of your mouth, "oh, you have something..."

his voice trailed off as his hand reached out, his thumb swiping away the bit of sauce on your soft skin. your eyes locked with his, the feeling of having his hand on your cheek sending shockwaves through your body. you weren't sure how long the two of you stayed like that before he blinked, shaking his head before moving to pull his hand away from your face.

"sorry,"

you pulled on his arm, letting him closer to you before you grabbed his face into your hands, unexpectedly bringing him in for a kiss. he was surprised at first, but it soon subsided as he kissed you back, deepening the kiss as his hand slotted between the area of your jaw and the back of your ear.

you pulled away, breathless and giddy as you smiled at him, "i think i just fell in even more love with you."

he smiled against your lips, "who knew all it took was a pasta dish."

you laughed, bringing your lips back to his, no longer feeling as homesick as you had before because right here felt like where you were supposed to be all along.

[ninibeingdelulu]

His biggest fan ✧

rin’s version here

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Plot : You’re the girlfriend of one of the player of Blue Lock, cheering him up during the U20 game.

A/N : Slight spoil, and I think imma make this a series. Anyway— BACHIRA MY CUTIE. And it’s not accurate at 100% bc I read this arc like a long time ago…

Daily reminder: English isn’t my first language.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

The roar of the crowd is deafening as the players take the field, the air electric with anticipation.

Among the sea of cheering fans, your eyes are fixed solely on one player - Bachira, the enigmatic and unconventional striker of the Blue Lock Eleven team.

As the match begins, Bachira's movements on the pitch are a mesmerizing dance, his footwork a blur of dazzling feints and dribbles that leave the opposing defenders scrambling.

You continue to watch, your heart pounding with a mix of pride and awe, your voice joining the thunderous chants that echo through the stadium.

Bachira's unorthodox style is on full display, his disregard for convention and his sheer creative flair captivating the audience.

Time and again, he breaks free of the defense, his shots on goal narrowly missing their mark, but each attempt a testament to his relentless spirit.

And then, in a moment of pure magic, Bachira receives the ball, his eyes scanning the field with laser-like focus.

In a blink, he's weaving through the opposition, his movements almost too fast to follow, before unleashing a shot that rockets into the back of the net, the crowd erupting in a deafening roar.

You leaps to you feet, your hands clasped over your mouth in sheer disbelief, tears of joy glistening in your eyes. You watches as Bachira celebrates, his infectious grin and unbridled enthusiasm radiating across the pitch.

As the match winds down and the final whistle blows, signaling the Blue Lock team's victory, Bachira's gaze immediately seeks out the familiar face in the stands.

With a mischievous wink and a playful gesture, he breaks away from his teammates and sprints towards the stands, his eyes locked onto the woman he loves.

You meets him halfway, your laughter mingling with his as the two of you collide in a passionate embrace, oblivious to the cheering crowd around them.

Bachira lifts you off the ground, spinning you around with a joyous abandon that is so quintessentially him.

"Did you see that?" he exclaims, his eyes shining with exhilaration. "I told you I'd make it happen, didn't I?"

You nods, your smile radiant as you gazes up at him, your palms cupping his cheeks .

"You were amazing," you murmurs, the voice thick with emotion. "I'm so proud of you."

Bachira's expression softens, and for a moment, the rest of the world fades away, leaving only you two in your own private bubble of celebration and affection.

"None of this would be possible without you," he whispers, his forehead gently pressed against yours.

"You're the one who keeps me grounded, who believes in me when no one else does."

Still locked in their embrace, Bachira can't seem to contain his boundless enthusiasm, his eyes sparkling with a childlike glee.

But being calm for more than 5 minutes isn’t like Bachira, so the second after telling you the most caring words ever, his usual wide smile appears on his face again.

"Did you see that last shot?" he exclaims, his hands gesturing animatedly.

“I thought from sure it was going wide, but then- bam !”

He punctuates the word with a dramatic flourish, eliciting a soft giggle from the woman in his arms.

"I saw it," you assures him, your fingers now gently tracing the contours of his face. "You were incredible out there, Bachira. Absolutely unstoppable."

Bachira beams, his chest puffing out with pride.

"Well, I had the most amazing fan cheering me on," he declares, nuzzling his nose against yours in an affectionate gesture.

"That's what gave me the extra boost I needed."

You laughs, your eyes sparkling with adoration. "You're such a flirt," you teases, playfully swatting his shoulder.

Bachira grins unabashedly, his arms tightening around your waist.

"Only for you," he murmurs, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know you're the only one who can keep up with me."

Suddenly, his expression brightens, and he pulls back slightly, his hands grasping your shoulders.

"Hey, you know what? The team is having a big celebration dinner tonight. You should come with me!"

The woman blinks, momentarily caught off guard by his enthusiastic invitation.

"A dinner with the whole team?" You asks, a hint of uncertainty in your voice.

Bachira nods emphatically, his eyes shining with excitement.

"Yeah, yeah! It's going to be a blast - we're gonna eat, drink, and dance the night away!"

He pauses, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Unless... you don't want to?"

You quickly shakes your head, offering him a reassuring smile.

"No, no, I'd love to come," your assures him. "I just wasn't expecting the invitation, that's all."

Bachira's face lights up, and he pulls you into another tight hug, practically bouncing with glee.

"This is going to be so much fun!" he exclaims, his words muffled against your shoulder. "Wait until you see me bust out my moves on the dance floor!"

You can't help but chuckle, your arms wrapping around him in return as you savors this moment of pure, unadulterated happiness.

Bachira's infectious enthusiasm is a balm to your soul, and you knows that wherever this enigmatic striker goes, there's bound to be an adventure waiting.

As they pull apart, Bachira's gaze is filled with adoration, and he leans in to press a tender kiss to your forehead.

"I'm so glad you're here with me," he murmurs, his voice soft and sincere.

With a contented sigh, you nods, your heart swelling with the knowledge that you’re an integral part of Bachira's world - a world filled with boundless energy, unorthodox brilliance, and a love that knows no bounds.