#I thought this book was like excessively mean and gross

[traxanaxanos]

The com sounded. "Bridge to Captain Archer."

That was T'Pol.

"Excuse me a minute." Archer walked to the nearest companel. "Archer here. Go ahead."

"We have been contacted by the Thelasian Trading Confederacy."

"What?"

"We have been contacted by the Thelasian Trading Confederacy."

from Rosetta by Dave Stern

[daechwitatamic]

VI. Don't Think About Him || KNJ

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Title: My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni

Genre: college!au, roomie!au, angst, s2l, the absolute slowest of burns

Pairing: Namjoon x female reader, unrequited Taehyung x reader

Beta'd by @/kookstempo, @/casuallyimagining, and @/toikiii - thank you endlessly!

Summary: You know a lot about the many types of love thanks to Kim Taehyung. You love him as the only person you see as “family”, you love him as your very best friend, and you love him as the beautiful, funny man he’s become. But when a twist of fate during your senior year has you rooming with his good friend Kim Namjoon, you just might find that you have plenty left to learn about love. 

Lesson One: there are such things as a right way and a wrong way to love and to be loved.

//

You try - and fail - to figure out who and what you want.

Section Warnings: excessive drinking, bar scenes, language, kissing, groping, maybe grinding idk

WC: 6k

The world is mine: blue hill, still silver lake, Broad field, bright flower, and the long white road A gateless garden, and an open path: My feet to follow, and my heart to hold. - Journey | Edna St. Vincent Millay

Sunday October 28th

Fire burns low in the hearth, but my feet itch and beg to go, into the night where the wolfpack hunts, into the storm of wind and snow.

I can hear only their hunting song. The blizzard steals from me my sight. I have no map to traverse this land, But I peer wistfully into the night.

The wolves, the storm, the wild land, Even still I must decide. I know despite the dangers, I can’t afford to stay inside.

“That’s fucking terrible,” you mutter, closing your book and scooting it away from you in disgust. “Wolves? Am I fourteen? For fuck’s sake.”

Still, it does touch on how you feel: like proceeding forward will result in you getting ripped to metaphorical shreds - but staying here, stuck in the familiar just because you’ve deemed it safe, would somehow be worse.

“Talking to yourself?” someone asks, and you jump with a shriek. 

“Namjoon!” you scold, as you register that it’s him in the doorway. “I thought you weren’t home for a few more hours!”

He crosses the room and tosses his bag onto his bed. “Yoongi has a lead foot.”

“How was it?” you ask mildly.

Namjoon wiggles his head, indicating both good and bad. “The brewery was really fun,” he says. “And it was nice for us all to hang out and talk at the house. We all used to dorm together… it’s been weird not living in the same place as them. I didn’t realize how much I missed it.”

This makes you smile. You’d been to that dorm once or twice, but you’d refused to hang out with Taehyung there because… well, dudes are stinky. And you’re not a clean freak by any means, but it was a little gross over there. 

“Well it was lonely and boring here,” you report. “I’m glad you’re back.” 

You’re instantly unsure if that was too forward, too much. Namjoon going away the literal day after you’d kissed him had given you plenty of time to think in private, but it had also given you room to sow doubts in your own mind. But Namjoon smiles shyly, pleased, so cute it makes your toes wiggle.

“I’m glad to be back too,” he says. “I’m gonna go shower and unpack. Have you made plans for dinner yet? We could order later?”

You hadn’t, but you have a feeling Taehyung will want to hang out after two days away. “I have plans,” you lie, figuring it will end up being true. 

“Ah, no problem then,” Namjoon says easily, and heads into his room, closing the door behind him with a little wave. 

You text Taehyung - “welcome home!! dinner later?” - and get up to start some laundry. By the time it’s done washing, and drying, and you’ve folded it, he still hasn’t answered. 

You try again - “hello??? this is y/n, looking for signs of life???”

This time, the response is almost immediate. 

[4:56 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: sorry [4:56 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: can’t tonight

In the end, you walk to campus alone, eating by yourself in the far corner of the cafeteria. You’ve splurged on ordering too much lately when these meals are built into your tuition. Besides, you don’t want Namjoon to know that your “plans” fell through. 

Friday November 2nd

Angel on the right… Devil on the left… 

You look side to side, conflicted. Such a strong case for each. 

“Are those for tonight?”

You jump, spinning away from the two Halloween costumes you’ve laid out on your bed. It’s not like Namjoon to come over to your side of the apartment; in fact, you’re not sure he’s ever talked to you while you’re in your own room. It’s usually you going over to his door to bother him, if you aren't both in the living room or kitchen. 

“Yeah,” you say. “I can’t decide. You’re coming?”

“I think we all are, except Yoongi,” Namjoon tells you. “I’m going as a detective. I have a magnifying glass and everything.”

You laugh. “I can’t wait to see that. Any thoughts on which way I should go tonight?” You mean the costumes. You’d texted Taehyung for his opinion and he’d returned with, “flip a coin”. You’re not sure why you expected anything else from him. 

“I think that’s going to depend on your mood,” Namjoon teases. “How are we feeling today? Naughty or nice?”

You raise your eyebrows. Was that… outright flirtation? “What if I’m feeling both?” you ask.

He laughs. “You need one of those half-and-half costumes. I’ve seen them in the stores.”

You have too, but you think they’re cheesy. “I think I’ll go devil,” you muse, a finger on your lips as you consider. “The angel wings are pretty cumbersome. And the bars are going to be slammed.”

“Naughty it is.” Namjoon flashes you a grin and disappears from your doorway, throwing over his shoulder, “No complaints from me!”

You slap a hand over your mouth to muffle the giggle. Well this is new, and damn, you want to keep playing. 

You Uber together to the first bar of the town’s Halloween pub crawl, the guys waiting for you outside. Taehyung howls in laughter at Namjoon’s long coat, fedora, and magnifying glass. 

“I see the devil won the coin toss,” he says to you, grinning.

You roll your eyes, still a little peeved that he couldn’t take anything seriously, even when you needed him to. This was a trivial thing, but still. It wasn’t a lot to ask.

Jungkook hands you and Namjoon a flyer with a QR code - it listed the locations of each bar and what time the group would move, in case you got lost or missed the exodus. Inside, you have to pay to get wristbanded, but the wristband earns you special prices at each of the stops. 

“This does not go with my costume,” you pretend to pout, the bright yellow wristband glaring against your short, red dress.

“I think everyone will understand,” Namjoon teases. Taehyung appears on your other side, pointing out the little laminated sign that advertises this bar’s drink specials. 

“You two need to catch up,” he insists.

Three hours and two bars later, you think you’ve achieved this. You and Taehyung cling to each other’s arms, holding each other up, somehow taking turns being the one who needs help staying upright. The first two bars had offered specials on shots, but this one only has special offers for mixed drinks and beer. 

“Do we pay full price for shots, or do we let The Man tell us it’s time to settle down?” you muse loudly into Taehyung’s ear.

“Don’t start with that shit,” he tells you. “This is Halloween, not a hippie convention.”

“I see at least four hippies,” you sniff indignantly.

“I think you’re seeing double,” he counters. “No more shots for you.”

“You aren’t in charge of me!” you yell, and head for the bar at a clip, ankles crying for mercy in your heels. You grasp the bar in both hands when you get there, steady yourself, and then reach up to fix your horn headband, which had been starting to slide. You thought Taehyung was right behind you, but when you turn to look, he’s talking to a girl in a mermaid costume. 

Of course.

It’s fine.

The bartender finally catches your eye and you flash your wristband, indicating you’ll take the special. He nods, turns and picks up a bottle. A body settles beside you; you turn, expecting that Taehyung caught up, or maybe Jungkook stopped by for a beer. Instead, a guy you’ve never seen before smiles at you. 

He’s in scrubs, complete with a fake stethoscope (you think it’s fake, anyway) slung around his neck. His nametag reads Dr. Love. You laugh out loud. “That’s so corny,” you say, your filter well and gone for the night.

Luckily, he laughs too. “It’s sewed on!” he protests. “I honestly almost Sharpied it out, but I thought that would look even stupider.” 

He’s really cute, you notice. He looks… clean. Older. 

“You look…” he trails off, letting his eyes roam to your feet and back appreciatively, “phenomenal. Is there an angel wandering around here looking for you?”

You grin. “Just me.”

If Kim Taehyung can find a hookup everywhere he goes, why can’t you?

But as you lean against the bar and take a sip of your drink, your eyes scan the bar before you. In the mirrored wall behind the team of bartenders, you can see a slightly distorted view of the patrons and all of their costumes. 

Your eye catches on a detective. 

Namjoon’s eyes hold yours through the mirror, though he’s about six seats down from you. There’s a tiny smile on his lips as he sips at what looks like a beer. A smile that says maybe he should have expected this. It’s the same face he’s seen on you when Taehyung does exactly what he did tonight. 

Beside you, Dr. Love is asking you something, but you don’t hear him at all. You don’t want to be here, in this spot, anymore. You want to be six seats over.

“I’m sorry,” you say, interrupting him, plastering a sickly-sweet smile on your face. “I just found one of my friends, and I’d lost them. Enjoy your night, though!”

You slip away before he can protest more than a syllable, before you can really register the disappointment on his face and feel guilty about it. Better luck next time, Doctor, you think, as you make your way to Namjoon.

As soon as you’re close enough he extends an arm, making a space for you right next to him. His arm tucks you closer, protective. He walks with you towards the far end of the bar, where it’s marginally less crowded. Once you settle into a spot there, he doesn’t remove his arm. His fingers rest on your bare, body-glittered shoulder, moving imperceptibly now and then, as if they have their own agenda. 

“Are you having fun?” you ask him. 

“Loud bars aren’t usually my thing,” he answers. “But the costumes are great.”

There’s a lot of alcohol in your system; your filter’s taken a hit. “I like this,” you sigh happily, closing your eyes for a second. You think you sway on your feet a little. The arm around your shoulders tightens.

“Like what?” His voice has gone deep, and you shiver a little. You want to kiss him again; you’d blame the shots but you’ve been thinking about it since it happened. The drinks just make it louder.

“Your arm around me,” you tell him honestly, and he ducks his head, dimples appearing along with a blush.

He shakes his head, still smiling. “You’re drunk,” he accuses playfully.

“It’s a Halloween pub crawl,” you point out flatly. “I’m supposed to be drunk.”

“That’s a fair point,” he allows. Then, he peers at you through squinted eyes. “Are you okay, though? How drunk are you?”

You consider this. “Drunk enough that I want to kiss you again, to hell with the consequences. Not too drunk to remember that there would be consequences.”

The playfulness leaves his face; it’s too obvious not to notice. “Consequences like what?”

It’s a challenge. He knows you know it.

“Namjoon,” you say, a little pleading. Don’t. 

“Consequences like Taehyung would see?” he presses. His voice has gone hard. He’s tiptoed around this issue before, but it’s the first time either of you have ever really given it life.

You feel like you want to cry. “Are you mad? About Taehyung?”

He softens. His fingers brush your shoulder again, absently. “No,” he admits, deflated. “No, I guess I’m not. But we both know that’s what you meant.” He removes his arm from your shoulders. It hangs listlessly at his side. You feel its absence painfully, like it had kept you tethered and now you might float away.

“Hey,” you say sharply, and reach for his hand. You miss and get his wrist, but you hold it like your life depends on it. He looks at you curiously. “I like you,” you tell him firmly. “A lot. I’m trying not to mess everything up - with anyone. But he’s my family, and if I lose him…” You take a deep gulp of air, trying to will your pulse to calm, your stomach to settle, your eyes to clear of stupid tears. “I have no one left. It feels… delicate,” you finish finally. You need him to understand. You wish you were better at explaining.

Namjoon twists his wrist from your grasp gently, but takes your fingers in his. “What about me?” he asks, voice a little pouty. “We aren’t delicate?”

You smile at him, relief giving you more of a high than anything else could right now. “No,” you say, and touch his chest lightly, just over his beating heart. You brush your hand down his chest, drop it to your side, and turn to stare out at the crowd. “No,” you say again, finishing the thought. “You aren’t delicate at all. You’re steady. That’s something I really like about you.”

There’s a moment of silence that stretches between you, tension building like a bassline, and then he gives a tug to the hand he’s holding. You turn back to look at him.

“What do you want, Y/N?” he asks plaintively. 

You open your mouth immediately to answer, but he cuts you off.

“Don’t think about him when you answer that,” he commands seriously, fingers clutching yours so tightly it almost hurts. “Don’t think about anything else but you and me. What do you want?”

What do you want?

“I…” you start feebly, unsure how you’ll even finish the sentence. “I want…”

Jimin rushes up to you, breathless, grabbing both of your arms. Namjoon drops your hand like it’s burned him. If Jimin notices, he doesn’t let on. 

“We have to go,” he pants. “Literally right now. Jungkook hit on some huge guy’s girlfriend, it’s about to be a thing. Help me find everybody?”

“Where are they?” Namjoon asks, quickly setting his beer glass on the bar and reaching for your drink too. You let him take it, eyes wide. 

“Taehyung grabbed Jungkook and ran - I think they’re outside. Have you seen Hobi? Or Jin?”

“Jin left with a girl two bars ago,” you supply, glad to be able to help. 

“I see Hobi,” Namjoon says, craning his neck to scan the crowd. “I’ll go get him. Y/N, go with Jimin, we’ll meet up outside.”

He moves without waiting for an answer, wading through the crowd in what must be Hobi’s direction. Jimin takes you by the hand - it feels much different than it had felt a minute ago with Namjoon - and leads you through the crowd hurriedly, dodging people left and right. You look over your shoulder as he pulls you, trying to find Namjoon in the sea of people, but you can’t.

Outside, Jungkook seems to be arguing heatedly with the bouncer. 

“Come on,” Taehyung is telling him, looking honestly pissed. “Let’s just go. The night’s already ruined, let’s just leave.”

You pull away from Jimin and head for Taehyung. 

“Hey,” you say softly, resting a hand on his arm. He turns on you, still furious, but you don’t waver. “Take a breath,” you tell him softly. 

His temper gets the best of him sometimes. 

He shakes his head, angry, but you see his chest move as he obeys anyway. A second later he says, more calmly, “Come on, Jungkook, we can even go somewhere else if you want. We won’t have fun here, that guy’s friends are all worked up in there.”

Jungkook relents as Hobi and Namjoon join you on the sidewalk. You slide your hand off of Taehyung’s arm, feeling weirdly guilty. 

“We rallying?” Hobi asks hopefully. “Or did we kill the buzz?”

“Rally!” Jimin cheers, going over and shaking a sullen Jungkook’s shoulder. “Come on! The night prevails!”

“I’ll go somewhere else,” Taehyung says. 

“I think I’m done,” Namjoon says, glancing at his phone for the time. “I’ll Uber from here.”

“Y/N?” Taehyung asks, looking to you. For a second, you’re not sure why. Then you realize - you either have to Uber home with Namjoon, or opt to continue on with the rest of the guys. 

The angel whispers that you haven’t hung out with Taehyung as much lately. 

The devil whispers that you and Namjoon could be all alone.

0-2 for the angels tonight.

“I’m tired,” you say. “I’ll Uber with Namjoon. You guys have fun though. JK, try to keep it in your pants.”

He flips you off wordlessly, still sulking. 

They all tell you goodbye, Taehyung giving you an extra-tight squeeze with his hug, and they walk down the block to find another bar. You turn to Namjoon, who’s tapping at his phone to order a ride. 

What do you want? His question floats in your head. 

You don’t know. You want too much, too many things, too many contradictions. 

It seems like Namjoon knows, and forgives you. He silently holds out a hand, waiting. You take it, keeping it tight in yours, not letting go even as you slide into the backseat of the Uber, as it weaves through the neighborhoods until it stops in front of your building, as it drives away, leaving you lit in red taillights before vanishing around the corner.

You’re standing on the sidewalk in front of your building’s front door, Namjoon’s hand in yours, your eyes sleepy but your pulse racing. 

He tugs you towards the stairs, and you think he’s going to lead you inside. Instead he spins you and presses you back against the stone balustrade, one hand splayed across the middle of your spine, the other cupping your jaw as he kisses you insistently.

You open immediately for him, giving a happy noise low in your throat. His spare hand, the one not holding you up off the rough stone below, grips the back of your neck for the barest of seconds before continuing down - rubbing patterns past your shoulder blade, the middle of your back, down to the dip of your waist, the swell of your hip, the meat of your ass. He’d better appreciate every curve, you squeezed into spanx for this dress. 

You grip at the lapels of his ridiculous detective coat, the earth spinning in circles around you in a blur. You’re aware of only where your hands bunch the fabric, of only where his teeth and lips and tongue clash with yours, of only the fiery path his hand traces up and down your body. You melt into his touch, wanting more, trying to pull him closer, trying to get lost in each sensation.

He breaks the kiss to nip a line of sharp nibbles down your neck. You whine, trying to give him more room. His hands come to rest on your ribcage, thumbs not quite reaching your chest, which has to be a conscious decision on his part. You can feel the cold night air on your thighs; your dress has ridden up. This snaps you out of the moment a little. 

“Namjoon,” you murmur, but it comes out a little whiny as he continues to nibble down near the juncture of your neck and shoulder. “We should go inside.”

He stills, then pulls away, eyes seeking yours for any signs of discontent. “Yeah,” he says finally, one syllable all he can handle. “Come on.”

He releases your body gently, letting you find your balance on the pavement. Then, he leads you up the stairs and inside. In the threshold of the apartment, you look at him, a question on your face.

“We’re both really drunk,” he says apologetically, reaching out to brush some stray hairs away from your face. “We should probably cool down a little.”

He’s right - you know he’s right. 

“Yeah,” you say, letting the front door close behind you. “Okay.”

You press one palm against the wall for balance as you fight with your shoes, sliding them off one at a time. 

Namjoon’s in his room, but the door hangs open. You pause in the doorway of your bedroom, realizing you have a problem.

“Um, hey,” you call across the living room, and he takes a few steps to come look at you. He’s lost the hat and the long coat, and his button-down is undone, revealing a tight, white undershirt beneath. “I promise this isn’t a come-on,” you say, biting back a smile. “But I legitimately can’t reach the zipper on this. Can you-?”

“Of course,” he says, crossing the living room. You turn your back to him, presenting the zipper. He gently sweeps your hair off of your nape and places it over your shoulder. You shiver, goosebumps rising along your arms, and you hear him hum a pleased noise at your reaction. You feel him fumble with the hook-and-eye at the top, and then the zipper sounds. He pauses halfway down your back.

“That good?” he checks. “You can reach that?”

“Yes,” you say, turning back to face him. He’s still got a bit of your lipstick on his mouth, and it makes you have to fight off a smirk. Down, girl. “Goodnight, Namjoon.”

He looks at you for a long minute, expression unreadable. Finally, he says, “Goodnight,” and steps back out into the darkness of the living room. When he gets to his room this time, he closes the door behind him with a soft click. You stare at the inch of light that comes from under his door for a minute before hurrying to close your own door against the dark.

Sunday November 4th

You spend most of Saturday in bed, heart and head both pounding, which means you have a lot of homework to cram in on Sunday.

After you shower and eat, you set up in the living room to get some work done. Namjoon’s door is halfway open, and you can hear the clacking and bass thumps that mean he’s writing in there. 

Midafternoon, he appears in his doorway, stretching widely. Your eyes skim the inch of stomach exposed with the stretch and then flick back to your page before he can catch you. 

“How’s it going?” he asks, heading into the kitchen. 

You twist your mouth, eyeing your laptop and the text spread open on your lap. “I guess it’s going. Sort of.” 

“What are you working on?” he asks.

“A paper for one of the bullshit general classes,” you tell him. “Which makes it more challenging, because I deeply do not care.”

He laughs at this, then plops onto the couch a few feet away from you, a water bottle in his hands. 

“How about you?” you ask. “It sounded like it was going well.”

“It was going okay,” he agrees. “I reached the end of a scene, so now I need to like… process, look at what’s coming next. I might take a short walk and let it marinate in my brain a little.”

You smile. “How come you never work out here?” you ask him, just curious. 

He gives a quick, self-deprecating laugh. “I wouldn’t get anything done. I’d just talk to you.”

You flush, feeling your face heat up, and bite back a smile. “What if I refused to answer?” you offer. “I could just sit here like -.” You mime zipping your lips, still fighting a smile. For good measure, you lock it up and throw the key over your shoulder.

His smile grows. “Wouldn’t help. I’d still be able to look at you.”

Your blush intensifies; you’re tempted to go stick your head in the freezer to cool your cheeks down. “I’ll turn around, then,” you tell him.

His grin turns wolfish. “I assure you, that will not solve the problem.”

Your jaw drops. “Kim Namjoon!” you scold, but you’re giggling.

“I’m just being honest!” he defends, laughing deeply, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Anyway, why? Does it bother you that I stay in there?”

“No,” you say immediately. “You can do what you want.”

He gives you a knowing look, like he’s used to your bullshit and isn’t falling for it. When did that happen? “Don’t get prickly,” he warns. 

“Don’t compare me to plants,” you grumble. 

“Do you want me to work out here instead?” he asks gently, smiling at you like you’re adorable, which just sets your prickliness off even more.

“I don’t know what I want,” you retort.

There’s a long, stretchy silence as you both consider just how true those words are, on several different levels. 

Finally, Namjoon gives you a nod in goodbye and heads back to his room. 

This time, he closes the door gently behind him.

–

Taehyung invites you out that night, to see a movie you’d been talking about. You tell him yes, as long as you can go to the earlier showing. But then you start to feel… guilty. Unsure.

You want to ask Namjoon if he cares if you hang out with Taehyung still. He’s bothered by some aspect of your friendship, obviously, but you don’t know what it is. Is it only the fact that Taehyung is a bit of a barrier for you two? Or is he threatened by the whole friendship? 

You lay sideways across your bed in the fading late afternoon light, considering this. You imagine asking Namjoon. You think his answer would probably be, do what you want, I’m not your boyfriend. 

Which, fair. That conversation needs to come first. Are you together, do either of you even really want that? 

In the end, you don’t bring it up. When it’s time, you do your best to sneak out of the apartment, hoping to avoid any conversation about it at all.

Taehyung’s car idles on the street below, and you let yourself in the passenger side and buckle up. You’re anxious, you realize, as Taehyung starts complaining about an argument he had with Jimin back at their place. You’re afraid he’ll ask something that will lead the conversation to Namjoon, afraid that he’ll catch you tripping up, clue in that there’s something worth his attention there. 

You can’t lie to him. He knows this as well as you do.

That’s why he never asks you questions he doesn’t really want the answers to.

You’re anxious for nothing, because Taehyung talks about his own shit for the whole drive to the movies, and the whole time you’re in line for snacks, and for the whole time before the movie starts as you sit in the back row of the theater munching on overpriced popcorn.

But the movie is good, and you get pulled into the fictional world, and when the lights come on you find Taehyung’s arm casually over the back of your seat. You hadn’t even noticed it was there. 

“I can’t believe Jimin wouldn’t come see this,” Taehyung scoffs as you file out of the theater and back to the lobby. “That was so good! Just because he doesn’t like that one actor?”

You’re curious if Taehyung would have still asked you to join him tonight if Jimin hadn’t turned him down first. 

But, like Taehyung, you don’t ask questions if you aren’t prepared to hear the truth. So you don’t ask. What would be the point?

You wonder during the drive home if you’d feel better talking to Taehyung about what was going on with you if the guy in question wasn’t his friend.

Maybe.

But only a little better.

Monday November 5th 

Unlike the Monday before, Namjoon leaves for campus without you on Monday morning. You aren’t sure if he’s upset with you, or if he just needed to be there early. You’re too cowardly to ask. 

You need some support.

If it’s not coming from your “best friend”, you’ll have to outsource. 

You trudge through your morning class, eat as fast as you can - alone - in the cafeteria, and head to the student center. You get to the store well before your shift starts. 

You aren’t allowed to clock in yet, so you kill some time doing reading for class in the stock room. The second your shift starts, you’re at the front registers, uncomfortably close to Kris’s personal bubble.

“Yes?” they ask you archly, eyeing your proximity suspiciously. 

“I… have a confession to make,” you say, your voice as quiet as you can make it. You’re barely moving your mouth, you’re trying so hard to not actually say these words. “There… has been… perhaps… some kissing.”

Kris is stunned into silence for the first time since you’ve known them. Eyes wide and jaw slack, they stare at you. Then, they clarify loudly, “By you?”

You growl in exasperation. “Don’t be cute.”

Kris beams. “Can’t help it, it’s ingrained in my DNA.”

“I need you to be just a tiny bit serious,” you tell them, “because I am having a full-blown crisis.”

Kris sobers instantly. “Wait,” they whisper. “Crisis? Explain.”

“I kissed…” you cast your eyes around the bookstore, making sure no one’s lurking, “...the one I live with.”

Kris gasps. “You did not! You kissed him? Not the other way around?”

“I did,” you admit, feeling yourself flush again. “Twice. Well, the second time he started it, if you want to get technical.”

“I do want to get technical,” Kris whispers, voice almost reverent. “I can’t fucking believe this. So, why the crisis?”

You take a deep breath. Which factor to start with? Because you don’t want to give up on Taehyung yet? Because you don’t want to risk altering that friendship beyond repair? Because you don’t know if Namjoon will be able to handle your best friend being a guy - a guy that you’ve had feelings for?

“Because I don’t know what I want,” you say, the simplest truth. “I can’t get my head straight.”

Kris cocks their head. “If you didn’t know Taehyung - if you removed him completely from the situation -.”

“Impossible,” you protest.

They hold up a finger to silence you. “If you removed him from the situation,” they continue over you, “would you want to pursue things with Namjoon?”

Guilt hits you like an ocean wave, tugging you down, down, down. “Yes,” you whisper, because that part is just true. There’s no wiggle room, no if’s. You like him. You want to see where it will go. If there were no chance of losing Taehyung in the mix, it wouldn’t be a question at all.

“Y/N,” Kris says insistently, leaning towards you. “You are not doing anything wrong here. Taehyung is your friend. Nothing else - and that’s his fault. You aren’t, like, betraying him by catching feelings for someone else. He can’t expect you to sit around waiting for him until you die!”

“He doesn’t expect that,” you say, still in a whisper, because suddenly your throat is tight in that way it gets when you’re upset. 

“You need to talk to Taehyung,” Kris tells you gently. You groan. “And the conversation should not be you asking for permission, either!” they continue, impassioned. “You need to tell him I’m seeing someone and you need to be okay with it.”

“But they’re friends,” you protest. “It’s so messy. I’ve never had messy before.”

“You’ve never had anything before,” Kris points out.

“That wasn’t nice,” you grumble. “Yes I have.”

“Nothing that mattered,” they correct. “Nothing with feelings.”

You slump onto the counter. “I hate this.”

“I’m telling you,” Kris says airily. “If you don’t talk to them, this is all going to blow up in your face. You can’t have your cake and eat it, too.”

“Why do you have to be right all the time,” you complain. Kris smiles beatifically.  

When your shifts ends, your feet take you not towards home, but towards the academic building where Namjoon’s “office” is. 

You’re thinking about your conversation about Kris; you’re thinking about the idea of fairness. 

It isn’t fair, as Kris said, for Taehyung to expect you to wait indefinitely for something that was probably never coming, to hold you emotionally hostage.

It isn’t fair for you to do the same thing to Namjoon - to keep him waiting, wondering, unsure if you’ll ever be completely in it. You know that’s the reason things have kept progressing so slowly between you. You’ve felt guilty letting it get any further, felt afraid of those damn consequences. And if you had to bet, Namjoon has been trying to wait for you to sort it out, to make the choice - to choose him. 

You can hear the low tones of his voice as you approach down the quiet hallway. Only the staff are normally back here, sometimes one or two students who need to speak to a professor, so there’s not a lot of foot traffic. 

You linger in the hallway, leaning against the wall and messing around on your phone, far enough away to not be able to tell what Namjoon and the student are discussing. When the student - a young guy who looks absolutely dejected as he passes by you - exits, you slip past him and lean against the doorway. Namjoon doesn’t notice you right away. It’s clear that his hours have ended and he’s packing up his stuff. When he does notice a body in the doorway, he jumps, inhaling sharply in alarm.

He slumps against the back of the chair when he registers that it’s you.

“I’m usually the jumpy one,” you giggle. 

He gives you a sideways smile as he leaves over his bag on the floor, messing with the clasp. “I didn’t expect to see anyone else. What are you - I mean, what’s up?” 

“What am I doing here?” you tease, catching his slip. You feel a little nervous, but you’re determined to do this correctly, to treat him better. “I came to see if you wanted to walk back together.”

Namjoon goes a little still, and you hurry to add, “It’s okay if you don’t! It didn’t make my walk longer or anything to come here first. I just thought I’d check.”

He lets you babble. He does as he’s been doing since the beginning - he waits you out with a patient smile. 

“So…” you finally finish, the nerves fluttering and hopping around your stomach. “Do you? Want to walk back with me?”

He stands, lifting his bag from the ground and hoisting it onto his shoulder. “Yes,” he says simply, giving you a tiny smile. 

You follow him down the narrow hallway, back down the stairs you’d climbed a minute ago, and outside. It’s a nice day - bright and sunny, chilly but not freezing. Campus is busy, and you have to people-dodge a little as you cross the main section, the crossroads of the two main paths. 

The second you cross through the front gate and step onto the city sidewalk on the other side, Namjoon silently reaches for your hand. It’s different from last time, in the rain - not urgent, not pulling. It’s gentle and tentative and, weirdly, somehow sensual the way his thumb runs over your knuckles as he glances sideways at you to see if you’re okay with this.

You give his fingers a tiny squeeze.

You walk together in silence for a few minutes, and then Namjoon asks you quietly. “How was your day? You had class this morning? Was it for Thesis?”

You smile up at him, happy to have someone to talk to about this. Kris would listen, you’re sure, because Kris is a good human, but they would much rather talk about romance. And Taehyung… it’s November, and Taehyung has asked you about your classes or your thesis exactly zero times. 

“No, not for my thesis,” you tell him. “Just a regular lit class. It was okay! I was so tired, I could barely stay awake… I think I’m still recovering from the weekend.”

He laughs. “Can’t imagine why,” he teases, voice going a little deeper. “I’m sure you were a perfect angel all weekend long.”

The joke - that you’d dressed as a devil - is not lost on you, and you grin up at him. “Clever,” you say.

He beams back, proud. “Sometimes,” he allows.

“How about you?” you ask. “Did you have class before your TA hours?”

“Yep,” he says, nodding. “Unfortunately, it was a research-based class.”

You groan in sympathy. “First thing on a Monday morning? Fucking ouch.”

“Tell me about it,” he says with a shake of his head. “I’m not much of a napper, but damn, I could use a nap.”

At the apartment, you decide to watch a show you’re in the middle of, and you settle on the couch with a throw-blanket over your legs. Namjoon appears in the doorway of his bedroom, looking at you a little balefully.

“Can I… do you mind if I read out here?” he asks.

You scramble to sit up a little making room on the other side of the couch. “You don’t need to ask,” you say, a little appalled that he’d felt the need. “You live here! I never mind, I promise.”

Appeased, he makes his way over and gets comfortable on the other side of the couch. It occurs to you that this is how you and Taehyung usually spend your time - on opposite ends of the couch - but you shove the thought away. 

You glance at him now and then as your show plays, and a few times you think you catch him watching more than reading. In between episodes, you notice his book face-down on his chest, rising and falling in deep, even motions. His head leans back against the arm of the couch, and his eyelids flutter as he dreams. 

Smiling a tiny smile, you fluff your blanket to cover his legs, and press play for the next episode.

<- Prev || Next ->

Thank you so much for being here!!!!! What did we think of what I lovingly call "the Halloween Pub Crawl Fiasco"?!

Section VII will drop on Friday, February 24th! I hope to see you there!!

[craetor]

Another Death Note book, another Tumblr post of overanalyzing details within it

This is a literal reformatted Twitter thread that was collected as the book was read, so, in theory, one could just flip through the book & find the things addressed all in order. Enjoy my needlessly high IQ going to town on this damn legendary expansion pack AU spin-off novel...

This obviously contains spoilers to L Change The World

.

"I'm no good with girls" - L Lawliet, like 2004? (He probably had a real good time having Misa around)

L calls the kids of Wammy's House "letters" (*tries not to explode*)

It's verified that the orphans are entrusted with solving cases as grave as murders to prove & train themselves

Beyond Birthday is mentioned to crack his neck in LABB, which is oddly enough also a habit of Ryuk's. Shinigami urges, especially those of the rather unhinged kind

Suruga heard that L never even showed his face to Misora, meaning she kept quiet about their encounter to everyone until her very death. Which is pretty nice.

Tbh Beyond wasn't too far off about mocking L's behavior. He does tend to crawl when he's being frantic & is also a messy eater (from getting food on himself when not provided with utensils (even when he is...), to consuming excessive amounts of sweet toppings)

There's too many "god"s in DN names... ('Kagami' can be translated to 'nurse god' which is so stupid & uncreative /affectionately)

"L's back grew rounder as he sat on the sofa with his knees tucked tightly against his chest. [...] He seemed to be burdened by the weight of something very heavy that she could not see". L's slouch gets lower after Watari dies under his surveillance. Nothing new, just fantastic symbolism that I love about him.

Also how actually well L suppresses his emotions while working on cases is really outlined in this book. It gets to a point where he seems apathetic, as people who've seemingly gone through trauma reunite over tears in front of him, while minutes beforehand, he's exuded real sadness over Watari's passing. (this is not inherently negative or positive)

His reputation with the FBI really sticks to him like a tick, yet it's suppressing his humanity that gets L to do what's needed & initiate measures necessary (which earned him the ill-willed reputation of kinky bizarre murder-loving detective. Whereby I still can't quite locate the origin of the "murder-loving" part..)

"Nobody would think anything important to be in a bag of potato chips, don't you think?" Honey, first of all, how did you fit an entire notebook into a bag of potato chips without it looking like it's your 1 pound hershey's chocolate stash... Oh, and L has a pattern of emulating tricks that people have used to try and fool him

It seems that L wasn't lying when he said that he's a fan of Misa's work, though idrk what to make of that... Not everything in the half-canon is canon, kids. M went a bit too hard on that 'L is weird & creepy' at times. Until it's not even goofy and ridiculous anymore, I'm just.. concerned?

L seems fulfilled and glad when he's stressed about saving the world. Nothing like a superiority complex, just very INTJ.

L will know to evaluate people so much as to accept food from the ones trying to deceive him, if he knows they're pacifists. Having them vacuum his room & stuff, letting them think they're earning his trust. A side of him we haven't seen thus far, just thought it to be important to share.

Watari, now officially L's mentor and father figure (we knew this but i love it)

The fact that L prones to share sweets with anyone compatible to himself or whoever he wants to tempt is not just a quirky gesture of respect, but actually seems to write out, more than anything, 'let's put us on the same level here. Have this thing that indicates gross luxury within societal hierarchy while also being the thing that keeps me going on an everyday-basis'

Fem-disguise flirty L. He's enjoying the vibe & living vicariously. That's it that's the jot

And then there's page 151. And i wonder, am I needed here at all?

The "L-organization" Blue Ship made up is comically the truest hypothesis that has existed as a theory about L. After all, Wammy's House is the founding ground of 26 Ls each generation to come

Watari seems to be involved with the Wammy's kids more than initially thought. But this could also be Kujo's illusion, as having any contact with the one closest to L at all would be a big deal and in her mind more prominently

And finally, the relationship that was created between L & Light is closer to love and worship than friendship. Even best friends. L's reliance on the thought of Light even exists as comfort in heavily emotionally distressing situations. Your definitely romantically touched soulmate-other-half-comfort-human can be your best friend too is what I'm trying to say. Like, you don't have to choose. Just add it to the list.

Verdict: I assume the main point of the book is literally to clear up misunderstandings about L, hence information about him is being blatantly pointed out and aggressively reinforced around every corner. But I'm here anyways because page 151 exists for me and me only (and everybody else who's done their thing correctly before having read this thing) as a pat on the back and a hearty 'good job'. It was fun to have found a couple more hidden details along the way too though. L called Light his 'best friend' like he called Misora 'some guy in the US who told me about capoeira'

[froms8nsashes]

The Party

It was unusual but Sam, Taurtis, and Grian all got invited to a party. The one who was throwing the party was Dom because he wanted to show his classmates how cool he was. So, he threw them all out of their house. It was pretty easy with Jerry's help.

There was music, lights, tons of people. While Taurtis and Grian enjoyed the party Sam sulked up in his room because Sookie wasn't there with everyone else from their old school. The brunette didn't like how loud it was, and he hadn't expected to come home to this. Putting a pillow over his head he groaned, trying to do his history homework.

"Does loser boy not like parties?"

"No, I don't. Stop calling me that."

Ridley was out on the balcony, sitting on the ground. Her tail curled beside her and a big grin on her face.

"It's because you've never been to a party."

"I'm the cool kid! I've been to parties!"

"I bet only parties with your mom. Never lets you have girls over."

"I don't party with my mom, and dad encouraged me to bring girls home!" Sam closed his history book, mildly annoyed.

Ridley tilted her head, her grin getting bigger. She stood up and leaned against the back of his desk chair. Watching him from across the room, mischief in her eyes.

"He only encouraged you because no girl would go home with you."

"As if you'd know."

"Kiku doesn't want you." Ridley said.

"So what?"

"So what?" She scoffed. "She's the prettiest girl here! Then again, it obvious she wouldn't like you."

"Shut up!"

"Make me bunny boy." She sneered.

"Alright fine!" Sam stood from his bed, just out of arms reach.

As soon as she could she grabbed his wrist and pinned him against the doorway to the balcony. Their noses almost touching. His face became red very quickly and she laughed, pulling away slightly.

"You thought I would kiss you? Gross."

"...please kiss me." He mumbled.

"What?"

"Nothing!"

"Nothing? Okay."

"Why are you even up here?" He asked. "Wouldn't you rather enjoy the party, you seem like the rowdy type of person."

"Eh, typically, but today I just need to chill y'know." Ridley shrugged. "I was actually sitting on the fire escape outside but then I saw the balcony."

"You don't like parties, do you?"

"On the contrary my furry friend."

"Friend?" Sam echoed.

"It's just a saying, don't let it get to your head."

"It has a different meaning when you're spending time with me instead of downstairs."

"And it already went to your head..."

She had let him go minutes ago but he hadn't moved from the doorframe. He watched the wind tousle her hair as she leaned against the railing. Without all the excess energy she seemed very calm, and very approachable now.

"...Would you- Would you have kissed me?" He was already tripping over his words.

"Maybe, maybe not. I dunno." She shrugged, staring at someone's garden across the street. "It is really fun teasing you, though." He could hear the smile in her voice.

"I know, I know. It's too easy."

"Yeah! It's like you lose all feeling in your legs and then your knees buckle, it's great."

"Hey."

"It's like you've never been touched your entire life and then suddenly you turn into a ball of nerves."

"Hey! I've been touched before!"

"Now that, that just sounds wrong." She snickered.

"You said it first!"

"Yeah, because I'm making fun of you." She turned around, a shit-eating grin stretched across her face.

"I walked into that..."

"You make it sound like you want me to kiss you."

"I... I don't..."

"Yeah, you don't sound too sure about that."

"I don't." Sam repeated.

"You don't what?"

"Ugh, you're impossible!" He turned back and flopped onto his bed, burying his face in his pillows.

"What? What do you not want?" Ridley was leaning on the doorframe now.

He mumbled something into the pillow and she stepped closer.

"I didn't quite hear you."

He mumbled again, only a hair louder.

"Bunny, you gotta speak up." She was leaning over him now.

He mumbled something again and flipped over, his face was the color of a tomato and his eyes were the size of saucers. She only stared down at him, just as surprised as he was.

Then Taurtis opened the door.

"Oh my gord! Grian! Grian! Sam is making out with a girl!" He was heard running down the stairs yelling to his friend.

"It's your fault." She scoffed.

"You're the one who couldn't hear me!"

"I don't have stupid sonic hearing!"

It's safe the say they argued for the duration of the party. Even when their friends were watching to catch another out of context moment.

[nenebot]

y'know what? we made a hahafunni googledoc of a researcher trying to figure out how an absurd fantasy species works so have this:

Observations and hypotheses about It

Immortality and Invincibility greater than scp 682 (and 682 can return from even zero atoms left!) is due to the fact that “each member of its species has a single ‘true’, but still not really vulnerable form in a single universe where said ‘true’ form is the only thing that exists, and the visible form i see of it is a projection that its species considers more important and the actual form. These universes can not be accessed by anyone except the ‘true’ form”. As for the “projection”, Its cells can somehow contain stupid amounts of a ton of chemicals to use for digestion, toxin neutralization, and More. don't ask how, or what the more means.  On the topic of cells, they also kinda do like sea sponges where they can rearrange any organ and can just trigger cells to become stem cells and then make those cells do/become whatever.

Also due to the above, very atypical way of gleaning energy. Special receptors on surface of the material that could be considered skin-analogous by a stretch so absurd it almost breaks and has torn in quite a few places, sense what it is, take it into the body, and utilize aforementioned chemicals to convert it into whatever. Also note that it can somehow produce excess of its own cells enough to sustain itself if wanted/needed.  

The texture of it, despite resembling different common materials (porcelain, plastic, and precious metals for main body, eye tissue, feathers and fur for rest) can spring and rebound even bullets if hit… due to the cell chemicals as well?

The crystalline stingers on its fluffy tails and fangs are filled with lethal toxins worse than anything previously known and become consistently more hazardous to anything that is not part of its species… 

Is it  made of all the same substance? Who the f— knows?! Certainly not this tired researcher…

On a similar note, why the hell is that fire-esque semi smoke-like, seemingly gas/plasma state substance that coats its wings and mimics hair something it can change at will (due to similar mechanisms as the rest of the cells) while staying the same shade of iridescent ? What liquids are its clear arms filled with, and what are the cute charm-like objects inside said liquid..? 

The other day, it showed me that it can make any its tissues into vocal cords and i have no idea how to react.

It has told me that its species does not reproduce or mate in any way, and are all grossed out by that idea due to how foreign it is. Apparently, they must either evolved so that this generation is now all thats left, or were created. Either way is simultaneously beautiful and cursed. 

I think the rest of the system, considering we are all repulsed aces who laugh in the face of maslows hierarchy of needs, can relate.  I particularly envy the fact that they have never given birth and just must have reproduced/would reproduce asexually (while somehow maintaining genetic diversity too!). I dont know how though, it did say it was “born from a rock”... whatever that means. 

It has spoken of being able to perceive all radiation wavelengths and dimensionalities. Perhaps that explains some of its quirks? Though i still cant see how that could give it control over the universe that overshadows anything from any media, and it has no pupils or marks on its iris…

Its magic seems to function similar to the system from wundersmith, complete with markings identical to what is described in the book, but on a much more powerful scale.

Now to figure out how it jumps/controls universes so well…

It said that though it can generate a cursed vocal cord structure anywhere it wants, it generally prefers to use strigulation to speak and preform mimicry and a thought leaked that was along the lines of “he doesn't need to know why?!” 

Dear. (nontheistic) God. 

(edit: a couple minutes later another thought leak was revealed: “he wouldn’t get it” 

…W. T. F. 

(it should be noted that its response to this was to giggle and say “don’t worry little one”...)

my cpu overheating

[randomfandomswriting]

Frank x Mikey x Fem!Reader

A/N: obviously this is completely fictional and doesn’t take into account their both married. it’s fiction and just for fun and never meant for their eyes. ANYWAY, SMUT with little storyline ahead: 18+ only minors dni!!!!!!! also if you have any one shot requests, send them to my inbox!!!! i’ll write for mikey or frank… or both ;) hahaha i also do fluff and take like one-shot prompts!! anyway my inbox is open!!!!

It started off as a joke.

“At this point he might as well join us.” Frank chuckled, the two of you thought you locked the door before a quickie at a party, that’s when Mikey walked in, red-faced and wide-eyed he walked out.

It had been a long time rumor that mikey had a massive crush on you. Frank, your boyfriend was never bothered by it. In fact he enjoyed

teasing Mikey about it. You laughed it off but found it kind of endearing. Mikey was a sweetheart. Usually shy, he seemed to open up to you. He was smart and funny and always put a smile on everyone’s face. He was all around a good guy.

You knew the crush would pass when he found someone, eventually.

“What if I let him borrow you for one night?” Frank asked, seemingly as a joke.

“Let him borrow me?” You scoff, “I am not a library book.”

“No, I know.” Frank slapped his palm to his forehead. “I just mean like, maybe he can join us?” Your brows raised and you let out a chuckle.

“Do you want to fuck mikey too?” You muse and he sighs heavily. You grab his hand and assure him, whatever he wanted was fine with you. “What is the fantasy in your head?” You hum, genuinely curious, you climb into his lap. Your fingers tangle in his hair. He smiled at you.

You and Frank were always open books with each other. You could tell him anything without him thinking you were crazy and vice versa. You wanted him to be comfortable with you and you did your best to be open and honest with him

too. This conversation was like any normal conversation.

“Like he… can fuck you, but I’m there.” He explains. “But maybe I can help you too?” You giggle, but nod.

“Okay.” You shrug, “If you’re okay with it. If it’s what you want.”

“But are you okay with it?” He asks, “Is it something you want?”

“I think it’ll be fun to try something new, and with you.” You sigh, “As long as you’re there the whole time, because I love you.” He smiles, and nods, kissing your lips.

It was a few days later when you found yourself on the couch with Frank and Mikey. Really, everyone was invited but backed out at the last minute. You had excess food and refreshments to prove it. The talk you had about Mikey with Frank had been simmering in your brain for about a week, and neither of you acted on it. You wondered if this was your shot, and even though you didn’t discuss it with Frank, you wondered if it was the right time.

You laid against Frank as the movie played, and the dress you wore came up past your thighs as you yawned cuddling into frank. A tattooed hand finding your exposed thigh you hummed. You knew this caught Mikey’s attention and he shifted in his seat. You look up at Frank, who looks down at you and then at Mikey. Frank pulls you up to him, kissing you deeply, you giggle, as he tightly wraps his arms around you.

“You two are gross, get a room.” Mikey muses, and you both look at him.

“Care to join us?” Frank retorts. It catches Mikey off guard. He lets out a short laugh, his face turning red. He soon realizes that Frank wasn’t joking. His eyes went wide.

“You’re— You're serious?” He said more than asked.

“We are.” You say, climbing off of Frank you sit next to him. “If- if you’re comfortable with it.” Mikey’s eyes meet yours and you smirk, your hand reaching out to his hand gently squeezing it.

“You’re okay with this?” Mikey asks you.

“We both are.” you reach back to grab Frank’s hand pulling him closer to you.

“Fine, I’ll bite.” Mikey giggles, and you look back at Frank, his eyebrows raising he wrapped his arms around you, his chin sitting over your shoulder. “What’s the catch?”

“We didn’t discuss… rules...” Frank furrowed his brows, looking at you.

“Well one, Frank is going to be here… and he wants in.” You say.

“Okay.” Mikey nods, his eyes looking around the room. “Any other rules?”

“If any of us get uncomfortable it’s done and we just go about our business.” Frank says.

“Should we have a safe word?” Mikey asks.

“Yeah.” You nod, looking at Frank again.

“… Guitar.” Frank smirks, and you giggle but nod.

“It works.”

“Okay.” Mikey says, “I’m in.”

You feel your adrenaline start to pump, as you sit between the two guys. You were a little nervous, never having experienced something like this. Frank could see it.

“You okay?” He asks and you nod, because you were. His fingers come up to your chin, his thumb grazing your lip before he presses his lips to yours. You soften into the kiss but your hand comes out to reach for Mikey. You pull him toward you, as you gently pull away from Frank. Keeping your hand on Frank’s arm you turn toward Mikey, hesitantly you move into him.

Kissing Mikey was different from Frank. His lips felt different and the way they moved softly, carefully. His hand came up to the side of your face, his thumb running against your cheek as Frank’s tattooed hand ran down your arm gently, and you pulled him over to you, turning to kiss him.

You had never felt that before, but you liked it. Mikey seemed to like it too, the way his lips found your neck as you kissed Frank. Your breathing hitches as Mikey kisses you softly up your neck and behind your ear.

“Use your teeth.” Frank mumbles to Mikey, “She loves that.” You tilt your head back, giving Mikey more access to your neck. His kisses turn into his teeth sinking into your skin, your body flushing hot as you whine. “See that.” Frank chuckled.

“Fuck you.” You giggle, Leaning back into Frank as Mikey continues kissing and nibbling at your neck. Frank kisses the other side of your neck, your body melting into him the sensation of two mouths on your skit. Teeth sinking into you, tongues pressed against your skin, though not in the same rhythm your body ached for them.

Frank’s hands run down your body as his fingers gently run down your body, fingers hooking into your dress as Mikey made way for him to remove it completely off your head, leaving you exposed and you blushed as Frank pulled you into his lap. Your back pressed against his chest as his fingers made their way down your arms, as Mikey’s eyes admired you. You felt powerful, as his mouth practically watered at the sight of you.

You tilted your head back to look at Frank, his lips meeting yours, comforting. He kisses you deeply, one of his hands wrapping around your throat, not squeezing just holding you there as his tongue slipped into your mouth. You hummed as Mikey’s eyes watched the two of you, Frank’s hand slowly gripping around your throat making you whine as he kissed you hard. It may have been a territory move, but you loved it. He smirked down at you, knowing you’d let him have you any way he wanted.

“I bet you’re so wet for me— and mikey,” He muses, and you already know you are aching. Needing some relief. You nod, your eyes leaving his to find Mikey still admiring you, his pants already tight against his erection. Frank’s grip releases as you press back against his chest, his hands wrap around you, running down your exposed skin and running over your thighs. Your skin reacting faster than you do, goosebumps trailing in the wake of his fingertips. He runs his tattooed hand over your center, making your chest rise and fall heavier and you whimper at the slight touch.

“Fuck.” You cry, as his fingertips collect arousal and he tightens an arm around you to stay still. He slips a finger into you making you arch until he pulls you back down. He chuckles, darkly as he brings his fingers to your mouth. Your mouth falls open without instruction and he presses his fingers against your tongue as your lips wrap around his fingers. You moan, at the taste as he slowly slides them from your mouth.

“Tell mikey how much you want his mouth on you.” He growls in your ear, “How good you taste.”

“Please, Mikey.” You whimper. He practically

jumps toward you, and Frank giggles again.

“Take your time.” Frank hums, “Make her wait.” You groan, but can't move too much to strike him. His arm was still wrapped tightly around you. “Start with the spot next to her knee. Kiss. Bite.” Frank begins instructing Mikey exactly how you liked to be touched and he is a good student.

Mikey’s lips press against your calf, his pretty hazel eyes looking up at you helpless in Frank’s tight embrace. His lips move up to your knee, where he gently sinks his teeth into you. You cry out, your body needing more from him.

“Now her thighs.” Frank hums, kissing down your cheek to your shoulder. “Use some tongue, bite. harder.” He hums and you shiver at the words from Frank, knowing how much he knew you. Knew your body. What you liked. It was the hottest thing he’d ever done and you loved him for it. As Mikey's teeth sank into your thigh, hard. You moaned, melting further into Frank as he continued peppering kisses around your skin, on your neck and shoulders. Mikey was really taking his time, kissing, licking, and nipping at the skin on your thighs and it felt good, but you needed more relief. You bucked your hips toward him and he giggled looking up at you. He pulled off his own shirt and Frank giggled too.

“Please.” You shivered, and Mikey looked to Frank for further instruction.

“Please what?” Frank toyed with you, and you groaned again.

“Mikey, please.” You beg, and he smirks up at Frank again. Frank’s hand comes back up around your throat and his teeth nip at your ear making you cry out again.

“Tell him what you want.” Frank growls, “Tell him you want his tongue buried inside of you.” You can barely say the words, your breath escaping your lips at this side of Frank that you loved.

“Mikey… Please…” You whimper, “Please put your tongue inside of me.”

“Good girl.” Frank hums. He nods to Mikey who doesn't waste anymore time kissing from your thigh down to your center. His tongue dips into you and you gasp finally. Again, it’s different. It’s not Frank and your head tilts up to check on him and he’s watching intently. Mikey buries his tongue into you, like you asked before swiping up to your clit. His lips wrapping around you making you moan out, your hands wrapping around Frank's arm that was wrapped around you. Your nails dug into his tattooed skin, as Mikey worked at you. He began reading the signs of what you liked, and how your body reacted. He was like Frank in wanting to make you orgasm. He buried his tongue into you, his nose nudging at your clit as he moaned, the vibration making you shudder. Your knees snapping together like magnets, Mikey’s hands wrapping around and pulling them apart so he could continue working you. Your moans became involuntary, your mouth falling open as you felt your orgasm building deep in your tummy, your eyes clenched shut.

Frank could read you, he knew what was starting

to build and wrapped his fingers around your throat again, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as you began to shake.

“That’s it…” Frank mumbled, “She’s almost there.” Your head tilted back into Frank as Mikey’s tongue still worked tirelessly away. Your hips bucked up to him and Frank chuckled again. Your eyes squeezed tight as you felt your orgasm building, your body shaking. You moan loudly as you feel Mikey use his fingers, slowly pushing them to curl inside of you. “That’s right.” Frank hummed, “She loved that.” He giggled “Make her cum.” He says, “She’s right there.”

Mikey pumped his long fingers curling them to hit your spot, as his tongue worked your clit. His lips sucking at you as your arousal dripped and you cried. Having Frank’s lips on your neck, and Mikey’s on your clit made your brain freeze out, your sight blacking as your orgasm rolled out of you like it never had before. You shook and cried and mumbled curses that didn’t sound like real words at all. Mikey slowly pulling his fingers from you, you felt real tears welling in your eyes. You could pounce on him right now for what he did to you, and Frank too.

“Good girl.” Frank hummed, kissing you as you tried to catch your breath and stop your trembling. Your limbs were like jelly as Franks grip around you, loosened up letting you breathe. “Now it would be impolite to not thank him.” Frank cooed and you shook your head giggling. You slowly rose up to sit and pull Mikey toward you, your kiss sloppy but needy. You could taste yourself on his lips as you kissed him, your hands roaming his soft skin down his chest and arms, your hand landing on the erection he had. You looked to Frank for a go-ahead.

“Should I thank him properly?” You ask, and Frank’s smile spreads across his lips as he nods.

“Show him how good you are.” Frank smirks, and you sink down to your knees in front of Mikey. You don’t waste time getting his jeans unbuckled and off. Mikey was a good size, not huge but not small by any means. He was more thin than Frank but you didn’t care. You looked up at Mikey, who’s breathing hitched as you used your tongue to swipe a warm trail of spit up his erection. Your tongue swirling around the tip of his cock you watched him writhe beneath you, a smile spreading across your cheeks as you slowly sucked him into your mouth.

You could feel one of Frank’s hands gathering your hair, wrapping it around to hold it firmly as you sucked back off Mikey, making him gasp. You hummed as you sucked him back into your mouth, deeper this time moaning around him as his mouth fell open and he whimpered a high-pitched cry. This only encourages you to bob your head, taking him back into your throat until you gag but keep him there. Your eyes water but you bob your head until the saliva builds around him, slowly sucking back off of him, Frank’s hands guiding you. You repeat this, sucking him back, gagging, bobbing until you get some air. Spit runs down your chin and Frank moans at the sight of you. Your hand pulling him to kiss him sloppy and wet. He hums.

“Take your pants off too.” You say to Frank who drops your hair as you turn to work on Mikey some more. You take your time slowly bobbing your head, sucking and moaning around him. Mikey is already ready to cum by the time your hand wraps around Frank’s erection. You stroke Frank, using his own spit as lube.

“Look at him, let him see your pretty eyes.” Frank moans. “So fucking pretty with a cock in your mouth.” He groans. “Tell her, Mikey.” he says.

“Fuck.” Mikey moans, looking down at you, your eyes meeting his as you continue to suck him back. “So fucking beautiful.” he growls. “I’m close.” he whimpers.

“Where do you want to cum?” Frank asks. “She takes it back so well.” he compliments, “But she’ll be good and take it anywhere.”

“Swallow it.” Mikey moans, “Swallow it like a good girl.” His words turn you on, your body warm again. You can feel yourself starting to get wet again. You continue sucking him until you feel his cock twitching in your mouth. Frank’s own moans from your hand still working him, a talent you never knew you had.

Mikey’s orgasm came as his mouth fell open, his head falling back. His words are not making sense and you smile proudly as you swallow his cum down your throat. You watch as he shakes beneath you, but want to get over to Frank. You crawl over and wrap your lips around him, replacing your hand with your mouth and Frank moans as you swallow him back. He bucks his hips up and you gag on him but don’t move back. He’s needy and impatient and you want to make him cum, reward him for being him.

Frank was wider but your mouth fit him, you swallowed him back into your throat with no time to waste moaning around him as your eyes fell shut. This was familiar and you felt Mikey’s hands running through your hair, gathering it back out of your face and you hummed. You bobbed your head around Frank as he whimpered and shifted beneath you. You loved having this power, your saliva pooling in your mouth as you sucked off him breathing as you used your hands to stroke him.

“Fuck.” Frank grunted, and you smiled up at him before sucking him back into your throat again. You moaned around him, holding him in the back of your throat for a few seconds before you gagged and moved to suck him again and again. You could tell he was close, his growls turning into high-pitched cries. He began thrusting up into you, and you let him fuck your mouth because it felt good. He came with a loud grunt, his thrusts slowing but consistent as you took back his cum as you did Mikey’s, with a smile on your face. You could feel your jaw was weak now but you still jumped up to land kisses on Frank.

“Now go get on our bed.” Frank says, “So Mikey can fuck you, proper.” You can feel the ache in your center as you stood up, needing to be fucked. You quickly made your way with both men following behind you, you crawled onto the bed, and laid back. As exposed as you were, you felt comfortable and reached for Frank as he crawled toward you. His lips crashed into yours as Mikey joined on the other side.

“So wet for me.” Mikey’s voice surprised you. He was usually soft spoken and quiet so to hear his dirty talk enthralled you. Frank grinned up at him as you opened your legs.

“Look at her. So needy.” Frank teases and you swat at him. He takes your wrist and pins it down, devilish grin across his lips. “Make her wait.”

“Frank!” You spat and he raised his eyebrows. His response was a hard kiss, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip.

“Tease her with your cock.” Frank says, darkly. “Make her beg for it.” You wiggle to try and swat at Frank again, but he’s pinning you down as Mikey smirks, holding his cock in hand, his thumb moving up your wet center. It’s agonizing as he runs his thumb over your clit slowly. You whine, needing more than that. He trades his thumb for the tip of his erection, rubbing it through your slick arousal his teeth clamping into his bottom lip. You cry out again and Frank chuckles.

“Please.” You beg, and Frank’s fingertips run over your chin and up your cheek. Mikey smirks, but doesn’t fold… Frank’s best student. He continues teasing you, his cock gliding up toward your clit as you whimper. Your hips buck toward him and he presses your hips down into the mattress as he dips two fingers into you. You cry out again, your head falling back into the pillow. Mikey pumps his fingers slowly in and out of you. You could tell he was a bass player, and he was playing with you.

“Is she ready?” Frank asks, looking down at you and then at your legs spreading further apart.

“I think she is.” Mikey smirks.

“Please.” You beg again, “Mikey I need you inside of me.” your words send Mikey’s cheeks blazed red and Frank hums against your temple.

“That’s my girl.” He hums, and you reach for Frank’s hand.

Mikey is careful, gently sliding his cock into you. You feel every inch as you gasp at the feeling, Frank’s fingers gently brushing over your hair and down your cheeks. He looks down at you and kisses you again. Your mouth falling open as Mikey thrusts, a little harder than expected. You moan, Frank smiling as he pulls away to nip at your neck again.

Mikey’s fingers dig into your skin as he drops his head back, feeling you warm around him. He grunts as he slowly slides out, but back into you with more force.

“Fuck.” Your voice is low, Frank giggles knowing you liked that, really liked that.

After a few slow thrusts Mikey begins to pick up the pace, rocking his small hips into you in a more even pace. Your breathing unsteady as he picks up a rhythm and it feels so fucking good, your grip on Frank tightens. Your lips tremble, as you feel pleasure washing over you. Your body is warm as he holds you down to fuck you relentlessly into the mattress.

Frank’s hand runs down your chest and rubs your clit as Mikey pounds into you, his own moans mixing with yours. You whimper and cry in Frank's arms as he helps build up your orgasm. You feel it coming, and you can tell Mikey is close too. His thrusting became more haphazard and out of sync. He’s needy, he wants to cum but more than that he wants you to cum. You start to feel it building more, your knees starting to pull inward around Mikey’s waist and Frank’s hand still working you.

“Keep your legs fucking open.” Frank growls, and you whimper but obey his words. Mikey whimpers, and you can feel him twitch inside of you. He’s just about there, and Frank knows it too. “Where do you want it?” Frank asks, and your words are inaudible.

“I’m—“ Mikey whimpers, “I’m close.” His brows furrowed together and your hands grip the sheets on your bed.

“Tell him where you want him cum.” Frank demands in a raspy growl.

“Cum… in… me.” You whimper, crying out as Mikey thrusts deeply into you, falling forward as you let your own orgasm roll out. Your legs shaking again, Frank hadn’t stopped rubbing your clit and you cried out as you felt Mikey’s warm load fill you. You shook as you came right after him, slowly he pulled from you.

“A fucking mess.” Frank chuckles, as Mikey lays beside you, your hand coming up to rest on his chest as he catches his breath. You try and catch yours but Frank’s lips are on your shoulder and down your chest. You shiver and giggle at how sensitive your entire body is. Your hands find his hair as his head dips lower. You whimper when his tongue is swiping over your sensitive clit.

“Frank!” You moan, already over-stimulated. He chuckles, against your thigh before licking at you. “Frank.” You whimper, your legs already shaking again.

“Do you think you can handle another one?” Frank asks, and you nod. “Turn around.” He smirks, and you oblige turning over, and pushing your ass up toward him. His hands pull your hips over to him and you giggle briefly before you feel his cock lined up with your slick center. You brace yourself for him to slide into you, and as he does you gasp your head burying into the sheets.

Frank gasps, his own head falling back at how good you feel around him. He thrusts into you fiercely as you arch your back, your hands tightly gripping the sheets. You feel a hand tangling in your hair gripping it back and you know it’s Frank because Mikey is in front of you watching. His own hand stroking his erection as Frank pounds into

you.

“Tell Mikey how much you miss his cock inside of you.” Frank groans, and you moan in response. His hand comes down hard against your ass as you whimper. “Look at him and tell him.” Frank growls.

“Fuck…” You cry, but your eyes flash up to Mikey’s “Mikey, I miss your cock inside of me” you manage through gritted teeth as Frank roughly fucks into you.

“Good girl.” He commends through gritted teeth, just like yours.

From already being sensitive, you're close to an orgasm, and you want to hold out for Frank. You moan again, your eyes clenching shut the feeling of Frank fucking you into the mattress leaves you reeling. Your body is on fire as he stays relentlessly in sync with you, and his grip on your hair loosens so his hands are free to grip your hips tightly. He dug his fingers into your skin and you struggled to catch your breath, your head falling back into the bed as your mouth fell open.

“Look at him.” Frank grunts, “Show him how much of a mess we’ve made you.” His words melt into moans and you know he’s close to his orgasm. Your eyes struggle to find Mikey, exhausted from the night, you weakly raise your head and find him. His eyes are on you as he continues to stoke himself his teeth biting his bottom

lip so hard it’ll bleed.

You can feel your own orgasm starting to come, as Frank’s thrusts become harder and slow, hitting your spot. You could feel yourself starting to unravel. Frank used a hand to reach around and pull you up against him, with one arm he holds you up and the other reaches down to your clit, your body shaking as he rubbed slowly making you whimper.

“Fuck!” You cry, your eyes finding

Mikey again, his own cum starting to spill over down his shaft. It was the hottest thing you’ve ever gotten to be a part of and the sight of him unraveling over you made you melt. Your mouth falling open, as your own orgasm started to warm your entire body. Your head went dizzy, your body giving out as Frank finished inside of you making you moan again, weakly. He gently lets you lay back onto the bed, his lips kissing down your back making you shiver, your eyes falling shut as he slowly pulls his cock from you. You gasp at the feeling and he gently runs his fingers over your back. You sigh.

Frank helps you clean up, and as always he’s sweet. His lips gently pressed against your forehead and lips before he grabbed some of your favorite comfy clothes from your drawers. You knew you’d be sore tomorrow, but it was worth it. Mikey was sweet too, asking how you were.

“That was fun.” You sighed and giggled laying between both of them on your bed.

“Should we do this again, sometime?” Frank asked and you chuckled looking at Mikey for what he thought. He nodded, quickly, causing you all to giggle.

.

[malimangle]

Logistics of Chickens in The Tower: AKA Kyle Crane Torturing Himself (Again)

In the first Dying Light game, there’s a mini side-quest where you can find this dude Khaliq his glasses. Attached to this quest is an objective to find a gardening book. 

Once you give him those things, the Tower'll gain a goofy little rooftop garden that looks like it flourishes. Which is totally bitching because then folks get fresh produce. Hell yeah! So fun. No scurvy or whatever for these guys.

But I got to thinkin’. Rooftop garden is all well and good. Love produce. Lettuce??? So here for that shit. But you know what makes produce even BETTER?????? Protein! Which must DECIDELY be in short supply, countless human bodies not-withstanding since I doubt the survivors would have any interest in cannibalism. Yes, they’ve got what looks like canned ham, but canned meat is fucking gross. And given that live animals seem like a rare commodity, I was like:

"The Tower would probably LOVE to have a couple chickens since eggs are multi-use and they don't need TOO much to eat (compared to humans) and they do well with produce. Which the Tower is sure to have an excess of. I mean, fuck, I grew cucumbers in AZ heat, dead of summer, and I still had fucking WAGONS full of cucumbers in a matter of weeks. Like, a genuinely unconscionable amount. And as it turns out, you get real sick of those after a hot min. If I know humans, there’s like a 100% chance that after five straight weeks of eating cucumbers for their fresh produce of the day, people would be fucking beside themselves. But chickens wouldn't be."

But then I thought of the logistics of trying to get chickens from bumfuck middle of nowhere all the way over to the Tower, and then up the Tower without anyone being seriously maimed, and I was like, "There's no way they would though. Too much work." 

Then I was like.

“Oh. I forgot about Sir Masochist Kyle "I climbed to the top of Infamy Bridge at ass o'clock for fucking lightbulbs" Crane" and I was like “...He totally would."

So now I have this truly Kyle-torturous idea where he finds a couple bedraggled chickens scampering around a backyard on the outskirts of the slums--near the ocean, past Infamy bridge, past the Ferry station, nearby the Railroad station safe zone where Rais' men were with the dynamite. A VERY specific area.

Here’s how it goes. So he finds these chickens, right. And obviously he radios Brecken like "Hey Harris. Uh. I found some chickens. Live ones. We have shittons of cucumbers and I’m pretty sure these lil guys eat those. Do you think we have a place we can put em? Bcus like, eggs are good. And stuff."

and Brecken's like "You found fucking what"

"Chickens."

"LIVE chickens."

"...Yeah."

Brecken sounds like he cannot fucking believe their luck. He's like "If you don't bring those little bastards back, I will actually stab you. Where are you? Alfie's friends helped fix up a car and I could send em over if it's an accessible location" and it is decidedly Not an accessible location so Kyle, resident try-hard, is like "Nah don't worry about it. It's just a couple hungry chickens. I got this."

",,,You HAVE dealt with chickens before, yeah?"

"Well,,,no, but they're just chickens. I can hold one in a single hand. How hard could it be?"

He doesn't understand why Brecken laughs and laughs and laughs at him. Brecken's just like "No, I'd love to see you try, really, but seriously, just stay there. I'll send some Runners over to help."

Kyle's mildly offended. Yes, he's a city boy. Yes, he's never really encountered chickens in his life. But he is a grown ass man. These are just a bunch of sleepy-looking feathery fucks. They're cute, even! It's gonna be fine. He'll just....meet the Runners halfway, alright? So he tries to pick up a chicken.

Dude.

This is where this chicken goes fucking ballistic. With unadulterated rage held at an intensity that does not, at ALL, seem like it should fit into that itty bitty feather body, this chicken kicks the shit out of Kyle. It takes him thirty minutes to wrestle--LITERALLY WRESTLE--five hollering chickens--two roosters and three hens--into a busted ass cage. He is yelling the ENTIRE time.

By the time he’s done, I’d imagine he could hear several Virals pounding the shit out of the barb wire fence and is Praying that it holds. Once these asshole chickens are securely locked in, they are still hissing and spitting at him, Virals are spitting and hissing at him in equal measure, he is covered in a multitude of cuts, he is just a little faint from mild blood loss and heat exhaustion, and he is embarrassingly close to frustrated tears.

He stabs the Virals through the fence with mute, rage-filled precision, grabs the chickens, throws a couple bags of their heavy-ass feed into his backpack, and off he trots, moving down to the coast and following it to just before the Ferry station (less Infected near the water--fuck that tunnel by the gas station hide-out), hugging it all the way under Infamy Bridge, up the road and all the way to the Fisherman's village, then up the road, up to the cell tower(?) safe house, and then down towards some of the slums, and then towards Zere's research trailer.

By the time he nears the Tower, the chickens are making such a ruckus that he's been relentlessly swinging his sword one-handed at encroaching zombies and he is YELLING at the chickens to just shut the fuck up.

So obviously, Spike is drawn outside by the noise. He comes to a scene of Kyle Crane, covered in blood, holding a writhing crate of chickens in one arm, and battling back easily 20 zombies with a sword one-handed. The guards are frozen, watching the spectacle, so he kicks em into motion and in seconds, the zombies are decimated by bullets.

Crane turns to look at him with a look of SUCH despair and he says, distraught, as Virals immediately start shrieking from somewhere scarily nearby, "Why. Why would you shoot guns?" and Spike feels really bad.

So Kyle books it back to the Tower, makes it up all those stairs in less that two minutes as Virals just start to get their eyes on him, and he all but throws the chickens at Blake, one of the dudes who guards the entrance. Kyle crawls up the wall to the Tower landing. Flops on his back. Does not move. Blake peers down at him, concerned.

"You alright?"

Blake looks warily at the extremely angry chickens in the crate. Kyle just shoots him a look of utter despair. Blake nods, and wanders off to find bandages. Eventually Kyle hauls himself up, and radios Brecken. "The chickens are at the fucking Tower. Tell me where I'm putting these little bastards or so help me GOD, Harris."

Brecken's like "Holy SHIT, Kyle. My runner's have been looking for you for ages. Let me radio em back--we set up a coop for them on the roof."

Kyle scrubs his face. "FINE." and he picks up the chickens. Trudges to the elevator. Goes up to the top, climbs the stairs to the roof, and finds Khaliq, who looks like he's trying VERY hard not to laugh at the look on Kyle's face.

"Let me take those from you, friend." Khaliq says consolingly. "You'll be the first to get some scrambled eggs, I'll make sure of it."

Kyle goes into the fenced in "coop" himself. Puts the crate of chickens in the coop. Stares at it, heaving. "I don't even fucking like eggs. They're gross. They're so gross." One of the chickens does not appear to appreciate this honesty and lets out a particularly loud caw. "Shut UP." Kyle goes, and kicks the side of the crate because he apparently, at this point, has the rage-impulse-control of a twelve year old.

Unfortunately, God shows yet again that He does not like twelve year olds and the crate busts open. Not only do the chickens gang up on Kyle for one last hurrah in beating the living shit out of him, not only is this the scene that Brecken comes to the roof just in time to see, but Kyle ALSO gets to onlook in utter despair as all five chickens make a break for the open coop door, haul ass to the edge of the roof, and fucking jump off.

He just. He just lays there on the ground, face pressed to the top of the roof, while Brecken and Khaliq lose it.

Thankfully, the chickens are aerodynamic and take awhile to fall. And they fall right into the arms of the runners who'd been called back from looking for Kyle, and--since the chickens are now paralyzed with terror--they are very cooperative all the way back up, and they make it safe and sound into the coop after all.

Now. We are not done YET. Bcus recall.

There is a recurrent easter egg in the Dying Light games where chickens are aliens.

So there is one night. Where Crane is on the roof of the tower, enjoying the air, because he had this awful nightmare of chickens eating his organs and crawling out of his ribcage. He goes over to go angrily pelt them with cucumber chunks because it IS helpful--it feeds them--and he gets some satisfaction out of nailing them on the heads with the cucumbers chunks since it doesn't hurt them--just startles them

But as he rounds the corner to see the chickens, all five of them are crowded around a mysterious looking device and speaking into it.

"Yes, we tested him. His perseverance was most admirable. Anger control leaves a bit to be desired, but he was ruthlessly effective. He may be a good candidate for our blessing."

He stares. Rubs his eyes.

"What the fuck are you guys doing?" He says, shaking his head in utter disbelief. He prays to God that he is hallucinating. God does not answer.

Instead, one of the chickens turns to him, real slow. Crawls onto the side of the coop with very un-chickenlike crawling skills. Looks him directly in the eyes.

"No one will ever believe you." The chicken says. "Ba-cawk!" and it falls backwards into the coop, alongside the others, which are now acting remarkably more chicken-like.

The mysterious device is now gone, having disappeared while Kyle was distracted by the chicken looking into his eyes.

Kyle stares at the chickens for awhile. He wishes he could say he was thinking, pondering, even. But there are literally no fucking thoughts in his head. He has a big capacity for bullshit--his fuckbudget is massive. But somehow. Finally. He has finally encountered something that does not fit into it.

He goes to bed. He never fucking tells ANYONE.

(And when he wakes up one morning with a chicken stood on his chest, face inches from his, he just goes back to sleep. He does not get paid enough for this, or enough to ponder WHY he's a little more aerodynamic after that. No, sir.)

And bam that’s how the Tower would get chickens. 

[quelquechosedhorrible]

Study Break

You’ve been buried with schoolwork since taking advanced classes, and your time spent with your best friend, Loki, has become nonexistent. He wants to change that.

Note: Eep! First posted fic! I hope people enjoy it. 🤗 I used a divider by @firefly-graphics. Check out their work; it’s great!

Warnings: Eh, one minor curse word?

Words: 868

“I think you should take a break from your studies. Let’s go for a walk.”

You looked up over your laptop toward the doorway to your bedroom. You saw Loki leaning casually against your doorframe.

“I can’t; I have this AP English essay due soon, and an AP World History exam the day after tomorrow. Which also has a freaking essay I have to write,” you grumbled. “A timed essay.”

“I just think you’ve been working excessively hard.”

“Then go to the next PTO or school district meeting or whatever and complain about all the work teachers give us.”

You were being snarky, and you knew it. But you were stressed, and you just wanted Loki to leave you to your schoolwork. Instead, he made your papers, books, and laptop disappear.

“What the hell?!”

“Ah ah ah,” Loki said waving an index finger at you. “Mr. Patriotic would not appreciate that language.”

“Y’know, why don’t you go to my school and make the teachers’ shi-,” you stopped yourself. “Crap disappear.”

Loki sighed. “It won’t be for long. Just a little walk. A study break; you’ll be able to focus better after.”

You frowned at him. “I was in the zone.”

“We haven’t gone for one of our walks for some time now,” he said softly.

It was true. You and Loki were tighter than tight; he just seemed to get you the most out of everyone else in the tower. The regular walks you two would take were a time when you could talk to him about things that were bothering you or ask his advice on situations or things you needed to do. Both he and you valued that time spent together.

But as you took increasingly advanced classes, your workload seemed to quadruple, which left less and less time to hang out until it had become virtually nonexistent.

You looked at him for a moment and saw how much he truly wanted this, how much it’d mean to him. And you had to admit, you really, really missed those meandering walks along the city streets or around the parks with him.

“Alright, alright, lay off the puppy dog eyes,” you muttered, but there was a small smile on your face.

—

“How about some ice cream?” Loki suggested.

The two of you were walking around the city, looking through shop windows at everything from little boutiques with vintage clothing to small, hole-in-the-wall restaurants that all seemed to be emanating delicious smells.

“Loki, it’s February, and freezing.”

“It’s never too cold for ice cream,” he said as though the mere thought were absurd.

You smiled and walked with him to the ice cream shop. You were greeted by the shop owner when you entered.

“Two hot chocolates? That’s my most popular thing right now. Made with real melted chocolate and whole milk too,” he said.

“Oh, actually we’re here for ice cream,” Loki told him.

“Heh. Don’t get many requests for it this time of year, but we’ve got a limited selection of flavors available. What can I get ya?”

—

“Y/N, that looks disgusting.”

You’d gotten three scoops: chocolate, lemon cookie, and bubblegum. You had to admit, the brown, yellow, and pink swirled together where they’d melted slightly did look gross, but they all tasted delicious.

“If it weren’t for me, you’d still think of grapes and nuts as sweets.”

Once you’d introduced Loki to Midgardian confectioneries, he’d discovered he had quite the sweet tooth. He wasn’t much of a pie or cake eater, but he enjoyed ice cream and things like Skittles and Sour Patch Kids. And don’t get him started on the wonders of cotton candy. The Asgardian loves it.

“What’d you get anyway?” You asked peeking into his cup. “Pistachio?”

You made a face.

“What? It’s very good. Want a taste?” He offered.

“Nah. Not really a nut kinda person.”

“Oh? Are you not one yourself?”

You rolled your eyes and mocked laughed. “Ha ha ha.” When it came to you, Loki had dad jokes for days.

“You’re my favorite nut, Y/N.”

—

After you two had returned to the tower from your walk, you both settled in on the couch to watch an episode of your favorite show. Afterwards, you both just enjoyed the quietness of simply being in each other’s company.

“Hey, Loki?” You spoke up.

“Hmm?”

“Spring Break is only a few weeks away; I’ll have a whole week off. We can plan a bunch of things to do and hang out; get back to old times when we never went a day without at least some time together,” you told him softly.

You felt bad for pushing him aside this whole time as you let worries about school overtake you.

“Or, we could even just sit in the library together while I study and do homework, and you read. I just want to spend time with you again like we used to.”

You were leaning against his side, head on his shoulder, playing with the sleeves of your hoodie. The arm he had around you pulled you closer, and you felt him plant a soft kiss on your head before he gently rested his chin atop it.

“I’d really love that, Y/N.”

[quicksilverownsmysoul]

Can you writeba one shot for Cooper where he's talking about Emily (the girl he kind of dates) and the reader who has been his childhood friend and fell in love with him can't take it anymore so She just snaps at Cooper and confesses to him? If you dont want to write it, I understand! 😊

omg Ilysm anon this is such a good idea! Of course I'll write it!

Shut Up

Summary: You had been in love with Cooper ever since you were kids. One day when he’s talking about Emily you just snap and accidentally confess your feelings for him.

Warnings: this is pure fluff

Word Count: 1698

You were hanging out in Cooper's room like you guys always did after school. One of his random edgy CD's playing on the stereo as Cooper sat at his computer furiously typing away. You were painting your nails on his bed, the nail polish bottles balanced on your thigh. "You better not spill that shit on my bed." Cooper grumbled, not bothering to look up from his screen. You rolled your eyes as you gently blew on your nails, hoping to dry them faster.

"I'm not going to spill it, I know what I'm doing."

 "Sure you do."

 You got up to sit in the chair next to his. You leaned your head on his shoulder and he didn't even flinch he was used to it. You guys had been friends forever now, you had met in third grade. You both had scoffed at the idea of reading another picture book, you both were far more interested in reading classical literature. He had given you a smile from across the room and in that moment you fell in love with Cooper Day. You squinted at his screen, your brow furrowing in confusion at the words. It was so different from what he usually wrote. “What is this?” 

 “A story duh.” 

 “I know that idiot. I mean why are you writing this fluff piece instead of your usual end of the world edgy philosophical stuff about life.”

 He jerked his shoulder up, knocking your head off. “Just trying something new.”

 “Bullshit.” You saw his phone buzz and went to yank it off his desk before he could. You saw the name Emily flashing and you felt your heart drop. You pushed past it, holding his phone out of reach and teasing him. “Who’s Emily?”

 “No one.” He said, kicking the bottom of your chair and knocking it over. You fell onto your ass and he yanked his phone back giving you a triumphic smile. 

 “Dick.” You muttered. 

 “Only if you ask nicely.” 

 You picked your chair and sat back down. You saw him finish off his writing and held your hand out asking for his. He compiled, swirling his chair to face you already knowing what you wanted. You shook the nail polish bottle, and twisted the cap off, wiping the excess off on the side of the bottle. You carefully brushed the color onto his nails, careful not to smear your own in the process. ``So… are you writing that crappy piece for that Emily girl?”  

 “Yea.” He admitted.

 “Why?’

 “Cause she’s hot.”

“Gross.”

He just shrugged. “I mean when am I going to get a chance like this again?”

“What do you mean.”

“Girls like her don’t usually look at me, and I don’t know doing this for her gets me a lot in return. Like the other day-“ Cooper started to ramble and you did your best to listen, biting your tongue each time he mentioned that this was probably the only time someone was going to like him like this.

You tried to change the conversation multiple times but it someone always drifted back to that Emily girl and how she had made out with her the other day. The second he mentioned that he could smell her sickly sweet shampoo you snapped, roughly shoving the cap back on the nail polish. Cooper gave you a confused look. “What are you doing you didn’t even finish painting my-“

“Shut up!” He reeled back at your words. “Shut up, shut up, shut up!” He looked at your with wide eyes. “If I have to listen to you talk about that stupid girl for one more second I’m going to jump out that window.”

“What’s your damage (y/n)?” Cooper had snatched the nail polish bottle, finishing what you hadn’t.

“What’s you’re damage?” You mocked, lowering your voice to imitate his. “It’s you!”

“What did I do?” He asked, slowly getting angry.

“You’ve been rambling for the the last half hour about how no likes you but that Emily, to the person who has been in love with you since the third grade!” The minute the words left your mouth you slapped your hand over your mouth, praying you hadn’t said what you thought you said.

You could feel the tension in the air at your words. You looked down, not daring to meet his eyes. “You like me?”

You looked up at Cooper, he had a hint of a smile on his lips. You took it as a good sign and returned it. “Duh. You’re just too oblivious to pick up on it.”

“If you’re calling me oblivious what does that say about you?” You gave him a confused look and he let out an airy laugh. “I’ve been love with you since the third grade too.” You felt your jaw drop and cooper laughed at your shocked expression. “I guess we’re both idiots when it comes to this stuff.” He joked.

“I guess so.” You laughed with him.

You could feel the tension in the air from both of yours confessions. You just stared at one another, smiling dumbly, neither one of you knowing what to say. Cooper was the first to break the silence, he grabbed the nail polish bottle and tossed it at you, you caught it. “Now can you come finish painting my nails, I keep smearing it.”

You rolled your eyes and gave him a smile. “Sure.”

You sat back down in your chair across from Cooper. He had scooted closer to you, allowing your chair to sit comfortably in between his. He was so close you could feel his hot breath on your skin, you did you best not to get distracted by it. Focusing on finishing up his nails. Every now and then you guys would glance up at one another, but then you would both get flustered and turn away.

The next time you looked up Cooper didn’t break your gaze. He wet his lips and hesitantly leaned closer to you, his eyes fluttering shut. You met him half way, a smile on your face. It was exactly how you always imagined it would be. His lips were rough against yours, but his kiss was gentle and loving. A complete opposite from his cold exterior, he let you take control for a moment before finally pulling away. Cooper’s face was bright red, he glanced down at his hands noticing that you had messed up his nails when you had put your hand over his durning the kiss.

“Shit.” You gave him a panicked look, fearing you did something wrong. “You smeared my nail polish.” Cooper lifted his hand up for you to see. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “If you keep doing that your eyes are going to get stuck back there.”

“Shut up you idiot.”

“Only if you make me.”

“Deal.”

You smiled as you felt his hands pull you closer by your waist, your hands coming up to rest around his neck. You pressed a kiss to his lips, both of you smiling as you both finally got what you’d always wanted.

Taglist: @booboomother @xxspqcebunsxx @coffeeandteaintheevening @kitwalkerangel @xmaximoffic @livingmybestfictionallife @evanmybeloved @shlutnutt @rottenstyx

[touyasdoll]

Dumb Luck

From anon: Hi, I've had a shitty few days with terrible luck and I hoping a request for you could make things better. Just a simple Shoto x reader story where the reader regards Shoto as her/their lucky charm, because he makes them feel less cursed and actually valuable. (I'm really venting here, but I hope this gets your inspiration flowing, it doesn't have to be very long.)

Word count: 2.3k

A/n: I’m so sorry that it took so long to get to, but I hope you enjoy and I hope things are going well for you, anon 🖤

———————————

“All right, class, we have a new student. I trust that you will all make her feel welcome.”

Your new home room teacher was addressing the entirety of Class 1A, but he kept his intimidating gaze squarely fixed on a shorter looking boy with purple balls atop his head, who was clearly squirming under Aizawa’s stare.

Making a mental note to avoid whoever that boy was, you scanned the room to peer out at the faces of your new classmates. They all looked nice, save for one blonde boy who’s face seemed to be permanently transfixed in a scowl.

Maybe you should avoid him too? And that’s when you saw the most handsome face you had ever laid eyes on for the very first time. His hair was two-toned, red and white. His eyes were also heterochromatic and one was framed with a large scar, but both seemed to gleam as he offered a gentle smile toward you.

“Go ahead and introduce yourself and then feel free to take your seat at the back of the class next to Todoroki."

That’s when you noticed the empty seat next to him. You cleared your throat, trying to fight off the blush that was creeping across your cheeks.

"Hi, my name is Y/n. I'm looking forward to getting to know you all."

You smiled as you took in some more of your new classmates faces, feeling reassured by the bright smile on the face of a green haired boy who just might have been an actual cinnamon roll in disguise.

"What's your quirk?"

Your attention was called to a girl with horns and pink skin, who also offered a reaffirming smile in your direction.

"Oh, uhm, I have a telekinesis quirk."

Tucking some hair behind your ear, you shifted on your feet as you were about to take a step toward your assigned seat when another male student with bright red hair called out.

"What? That's so manly! I mean--not that you're--that's not what i meant, you're really pretty actually I--," he scratched at the back of his neck, his face flushing the same shade as his crimson hair. "I mean can we see your quirk? If that's okay with you?"

Aizawa sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he took a seat at his desk, shaking his head at the awkward exchange that he would rather just not acknowledge.

You laughed it off and blushed in response to the red head's compliment.

"Uh, yeah, if that's okay?"

Looking over at your teacher, he exhaled and nodded, his stoic expression returning to his persistently tired features.

"Oh, and uh pick a number between 1 and 10,000"

Setting your bag down, you nodded toward the boy and watched him bare his sharp teeth as he momentarily paused to think and then nodded in response to your request.

"Okay, I got it."

Maintaining eye contact with him, you focused on his thoughts while activating your quirk to lift his backpack off of his seat, guiding it toward the front of the room with your hands, before returning it to it's rightful place.

"Whoa! That's so cool!"

He grinned in awe as he watched his backpack settle behind him once again.

"Y/n?" The green haired boy had his hand up, looking perplexed, but also so polite as he waited for your attention. "Why did you have him pick a number?"

You smiled as you physically picked up your bag, slinging it back over your shoulder.

"Oh, because there's kinda two parts to my quirk, but actually, could you pick a number? I don't know if I wanna repeat the one he picked."

You watched the red head blush as he shrunk back in his desk, before glancing back at Todoroki, who eyes were still intent on your frame.

"You can tell Todoroki for confirmation, so you know I'm not faking."

He perked up a bit at the sound of you saying his name, the corners of his lips turning up in a shy smile before he leaned over, so that the boy could whisper his number in his ear.

"Got it?"

You smiled at Todoroki, his small smile making your stomach do flips before you found the will to look away from him and back and the other boy.

After a moment of concentration, you announced your guess.

"4,389. Right?"

His green eyes went wide and an excited smile broke across his freckled cheeks.

"Whoa, are you psychic? Telekinesis AND telepathy? That's so awesome! Oh my gosh, can I ask you some questions after class, so I can write some not--

You nodded, blushing a bit at his enthusiasm. You've always enjoyed your quirk, but no one had ever reacted quite as energetically to it and the rest of the class seemed almost as amazed as him.

"Wait, what was Kirishima's number?"

The perpetually angry looking blonde boy's face twisted in curiosity as you moved to take your seat.

"It was uh, six thousand, nine hundred sixty-nine. Right?"

Your voice was barely above a whisper as your quickly scurried toward your desk, not missing the deep shade of red Kirishima had turned before the blonde boy smacked his arm with the back of his hand.

"Is there some significance to that number?"

Todoroki's gaze followed you as you took your seat beside him, ignoring the laughter that had erupted throughout the classroom, much to Aizawa's chagrin.

"Oh, uh, yeah it's uh--I don't quite know how to explain it though. Uhm," fidgeting in your seat, you slung your bag over your chair before turning somewhat sideways, angling yourself in your seat to face him, keeping your voice low. "Do you not know why the number 69 is significant?"

His expression seemed to only grow more puzzled as he cocked his head further to one side.

"No. I can understand why 6,969 would be significant, seeing as it's 69 repeated, but I don't see why that number i--"

A boy with yellow hair, striped in the front with a bit of black leaned over, interrupting Todoroki's query.

Suddenly, his eyes grew a bit wider and he nodded slightly, the faintest hint of a blush creeping up on his cheeks.

"Oh, I see. Okay. I can see why that would be funny.”

His smile was small and somewhat reserved, but it was adorable and the sight of it made you giggle.

"Yeah, that's why I didn't wanna go with his number. Didn't want anyone to think that I was a perv or playing a gross joke or something. I'm not trying to start off on the wrong foot here."

He cocked his head slightly to the side again, turning somewhat in his desk the way you had to better face you.

"Well, I think you have made a good first impression. I like you."

Your cheeks may as well have gone up in flames, you could tell they were beet red.

"Oh, uhm, thank you, Todoroki."

Clearing your throat again, you hoped the excess color would drain from your cheeks in the time you took to stare at the floor beneath your desk.

"You can call me Shoto."

His hand awkwardly extended toward you after a brief pause, flashing in front of the view you had of your feet beneath your desk.

You reached out and shook it carefully, feeling an icy coolness in your palms that you were grateful for as you felt your hands clam up.

"It's really nice to meet you, Shoto. You're uhm, you're so much nicer than anyone I ever interacted with at my last school, so uh, thank you for that."

His brow furrowed in confusion as you both retracted your hands.

"What do you mean? They weren't nice to you? Why?"

You shrugged shifting your weight to rest your elbow on the desk, accidentally knocking your unprotected cell phone straight off the desk, which mercifully landed on top of Shoto's bag, which had fallen to the floor, no doubt saving your phone from what would have been a thoroughly cracked screen.

"Oh--! Oh, wow, I thought that was going to end up broken for sure. That would have been my just my luck."

"Maybe your luck is changing. I hope your experience here at UA is different than it was at your previous school. I'll do my best to make your time here more positive."

His smile was somewhat sheepish, but genuine and for the first time in a long time, you felt comfortable around your peers. Maybe transferring schools was a good idea after all.

//Two Weeks Later//

"Dang it!" You huffed as your hurriedly threw your books into your backpack, scrambling to get up from the desk in the library.

Shoto calmly looked up at you in your frenzied state and stood, beginning to pack up his things as well.

"Where are we going?"

Throwing your bag over your shoulders, you nabbed the last of your books off the desk and made a move to start toward the door, but stopped when you realized Shoto was getting up to follow you.

"I completely lost track of time. I have to catch the last bus to go and pick something up downtown and I think I'm about to miss it."

He nodded and stepped toward you, following you out the library doors.

"Sometimes the buses run a little late. Maybe if you're lucky, it won't have come yet."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at his suggestion.

"Yeah, sure. Look, I will give you fair warning now; I'm one of the unluckiest people in the planet. The odds are super slim of even something small going wrong? My luck dictates that absolutely EVERYTHING will go wrong. At this point, I'm nearly convinced that a witch cursed me as a baby or something."

He shrugged, coming to a halt at the curb as a bus slowly began to pull up.

"I told you."

Your mouth gaped slightly as you shook your head.

"Okay, wow, well I'm glad you were right about the buses running late."

"I meant about what I said about your luck changing. I hope you've been having a better time here than at your last school. You deserve to, Y/n."

He stepped back and gestured for you to enter the bus ahead of him, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Oh, uhm, I--uh, I hope so."

You climbed up the steps and nearly tripped up the small flight of stairs, but his strong hands steadied your hips from behind before anyone could notice your falter, keeping you from making a fool out of yourself in front of a nearly packed bus.

"Thank you, Shoto."

You scurried toward the first set of open seats that you could find, letting your hair dangle in your face to try and conceal the heat on your face.

"Sorry, I, uh--," Shoto took a seat beside you, actively trying not to let his muscular thigh brush against yours, which was virtually impossible on a crowded bus, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with the way I touched you, I--I just didn't--didn't want you to fall or anything."

Feeling a bit more brave in sensing how nervous he was over the interaction, you relaxed and let the arm and leg that were already pressed up against him in the tight quarters press against him a little more intentionally.

"It's okay, I appreciate you not letting me make an absolute fool of myself. Seems like you're always around to help me in that regard."

Giggling, you began searching for the nerve to look up and make eye contact with him.

Hearing him mumble something, you decided to dig deep and look up at him with a curious smile.

"Hmm? Did you say something?"

His left side was giving off more heat than usual as you noticed he was blushing too, scratching the back of his neck nervously with his right hand.

"Dumb luck, I guess. That I'm always around when you need it. I'm glad I can be, I hope I can, uh, continue to be. If you, i-if you would let me be around you more often lik--"

He was rambling, clearly nervous, and it was an adorable sight to see. Further emboldened by his demeanor, you shifted your weight to lean against him, brushing the back of his hand with yours.

"Are you trying to ask me out, Shoto?"

His expression went blank as he nodded, save for the adorable flush on his cheeks.

"I am. Did I do it right? Or---wait, did you read my mind?"

You shook your head as your giggled, knitting your fingers together with his.

"No, I didn't need to."

He smiled, shifting his weight to lean against you as he rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.

"How did you know then?"

You shrugged playfully before resting your head against his shoulder.

"Dumb luck."

[yuyupowers]

aristocrat!seonghwa

aristocrat!seonghwa x fem!reader

genre: fluff

trigger warning(s): patriarchal society mostly. let me know if there’s anything else!

author’s note: none of the pictures are mine!!

for reference, i’m using british peerage (hierarchy). there are five ranks: baron, viscount, earl (count), marquess, and duke - the highest being duke, and the lowest, baron.

second son of a duke

i imagine seonghwa to be someone who values tradition

unlike hongjoong who finds who finds the numerous aristocratic mannerisms pointless, hwa believes upholding these (rather stringent) rules is a sign of respect

perfect gentleman pt.1

excellent in swordsmanship, horse-back riding, and hunting

well versed in poetry, literature, art, and finance

(can maintain a conversation about politics but honestly it kinda goes over his head)

a bit on the shyer side, but a decent conversationalist

good at keeping the flow and mediating in case anyone becomes a little too heated about their opinions

definitely cares about his and his family’s image

naturally caring and tends to dote on those close to him

(translates into excellent manners)

holds the door open, offers his hand when stepping out of carriages, makes sure to walk on the side closest to traffic, diverts conversation when things are too “distressing,” wouldn’t be caught dead alone with a woman that wasn’t related to him or his fiancée/wife

and surprise, surprise !!

this is where you come in

you’re the second oldest daughter, fourth child out of six; born to an earl

hwa’s family had the highest title bestowed upon aristocracy

whereas your family accumulated more wealth and land than the park family

and since both you and hwa were prime marrying age™, your parents decided upon a mutually beneficial marriage

the first time you met seonghwa was under the watchful eye of both your parents, when the park’s invited your family for dinner

tbh, you were pretty relieved when you met him

“prime marrying age” was different for men, so you were just glad he wasn’t some old geezer

and he seemed like a decent person !!

a well put together gentleman, and his image was only consolidated throughout dinner

all in all, you didn’t have much to complain about from the initial impression

though it was kinda annoying when your little sister would not shut up about how he was the handsome man she’s ever met

even if you agreed

and didn’t she say that when she met woo?

anyways

after the first meeting with the park’s, both your parents set up multiple occasions for you two to meet

whether that be evening walks, picnics in the park, etc,,,

you learned a great deal about seonghwa 

how his favourite is black, how he loved the stars and that his favourite planet was mars

how he loved kids and doted on your youngest siblings (much to your sister’s glee)

how he enjoyed spending a quiet afternoon with you reading dickens, discussing afterwards the contrast between carton and darnay

how he was always considerate of your feelings and opinions

you liked to think you were a decent judge of character and thought overall that seonghwa was a kind and caring person

but you also noticed a few characteristics that-

you wouldn’t say it was off-putting or anything but,,,

it might bother you in the future

see, you were pretty good friends with hongjoong

and while you weren’t as extreme,

(you didn’t sneak out weekly to hang out with a bar maiden that you definitely did not have a crush on)

you certainly agreed with him on certain points

like hwa, you thought that abiding by certain mannerisms = display of respect

but unlike him, you didn’t care all that much about your image

okay, that was a lie.

you couldn’t say you didn’t care about your image

(social ostracization isn’t exactly fun ya feel)

but you thought it was,,,exhausting

it’s one thing to be respectful, but it’s another thing to say things you don’t mean

to fake humility

to undermine people that are supposed to be your “friends” or “one of you”

to be perfect, when “perfect” was such a subjective term anyways

it just felt so fake and that left a bitter taste in your mouth

even now, you could see all the efforts seonghwa made to constantly keep his image of a “perfect gentleman”

with perfect mannerisms and perfect answers and perfect-

yeah, it kinda frustrated you

not to mention how obedient he was?

of course you didn’t fault him for being a dutiful and filial son, but his loyalty blinded him

and it wasn’t like his parents were bad people !!

no, you’d say they were much kinder than the average noble family

especially considering their status

but when they made important decisions for their son without consulting him,

(because they were more experienced, because they knew better, etc,,,)

and he accepted whatever decision they handed to him?

well,,,

nevertheless, despite being his fiancée, you, by this point, had realistically had known seonghwa for a couple months

and you didn’t feel like it was your place 

(at least not yet)

to point this out

so the two of you continued your cordial but emotionally distant meetings

that is until “the incident” (as hwa fondly likes to call it)

okay, so-

one day you paid hwa a visit and the two of you decided to take a walk in his family’s garden

chattering about this and that

a lovely time !!

it was a bit overcast, but it didn’t look too threatening

so the two of you ignored the clouds looming in the horizon and wandered deep into the garden

big mistake

the weather took a turn for the worst, and soon it was pouring

by this point seonghwa was a little panicked

he knew that for women, getting ready could be excessively long and tenuous task

(courtesy of his little sister’s complaints)

and now !! you were getting rained on !! because he didn’t bring an umbrella !! just in case !!

!!!!

he turns to you, ready to shield you with his jacket and lead you back to the manor

but he’s at a loss by what he sees

he had expected you to be upset, to huddle closer to him, to,,,idk, maybe reprimand him for this thoughtlessness??

but instead, he finds you staring up at the dark sky, eyes shimmering with barely contained glee with the biggest smile he’s ever seen from you adorning your lips

he likes your smile

and if he was already confused (he was), he was about to become even more so

because the next thing he knows, you’re hiking your dress in one hand and grabbing his in the other, running through puddles of water and mud and everything in between, laughter falling from you like the rain

up until this point, you had been acting like the perfect (you hate that word) lady

polite, demure, charming-

in public settings, you only spoke when spoken to, with a voice that was purposely soft and soothing

you chatted with his mother and sisters about traditionally feminine things over tea with impeccable manners

whenever you two met, you were always prim and proper; never a strand of hair out of place

but here you were, getting not only yours but his clothes soggy and muddy, laughing without a care about how pleasant it sounded or how loud it was

seonghwa liked to think he wasn’t a judgemental person-

he wasn’t repulsed or anything by your sudden change in demeanor

just.

really confused

and when you looked back, you could tell,if his expression was anything to go by

but your grin only grew wider, because you could work with this

he wasn’t enjoying himself per say; a bit too confused and bit too stiff to do so

but he wasn’t horrified or disgusted

okay maybe he was a little grossed out; he liked to be clean thank you very much

you could work with this.

and so over the next few months, you showed him things he never dreamed of doing

some of which he liked, some of which he didn’t

some he was willing to try, some, less

like sneaking into the restricted section of the library (he’s never been so scandalized in his life)

or visiting the kitchen in the middle of the night so you could teach him how to make some basic recipes (which he surprisingly enjoyed)

or meeting hongjoong

(“of COURSE it matters if they got the colour wrong?! lord help me you’re the most insufferable person i’ve ever met-”)

and the more the two of you explored, the more he,,,real he became.

and vice versa.

gradually, the mask of perfection he worked so on hard to maintain was slipping before you

don’t get me wrong, he’s still kind and caring and a gentleman

but sometimes he would whine and complain when you encouraged him to do something he was less than enthusiastic about (usually something that involved getting him messy)

or he made The Face™ (the disgusted one) to you and when he didn’t like something or someone

or he would be stupidly stubborn about some random fact that you KNEW was wrong but he just WOULDN’T admit if even when you showed him proof

(“seonghwa for the last time toads don’t give you war-” “LALALA I CAN’T HEAR YOU” “eye-”)

once, he even playfully stole the strawberry from your cake

(big mistake. he’s never doing that again. he never knew a woman could move so fast or be so scary.)

it made you so, so happy because the two of you were finally getting to know each other

actually know each other

then one day, while the two of you were reading underneath a tree at the park

“,,,hey love?” (hwa)

“yes?”

“why are we doing this?” 

“what do you mean, dear?”

“i mean,,,i’m not complaining, but i guess,,,why did you decide to show me this part of you? the part that runs around in the rain?” hwa

you don’t reply right away

instead, you shut your book and idly stared at the willow swaying over the pond, wind running its fingers through its drooping leaves

after a few moments of silence

“,,,i wanted to know you and what you believed in. actually believed in.”

seonghwa tilts his head slightly to the side

“love, i hardly think my convictions have changed”

“but do you know what your convictions are?”

and you know when you hear something that resonates with you?

something that strikes deep in your core and makes you rethink everything you’ve know?

yeah,,,this is one of those moments

now it was seonghwa’s turn to set his book aside, falling deep in thought

after an unnaturally long stretch of silence, you began to panic a little

because ?? maybe you misread the situation and got a little too comfortable-

cause i mean you were questioning his core values, which is something he takes very seriously

o god you messed up didn’t you o crap you need to apolog-

“will you help me figure it out?”

“,,,huh??”

“will you help me figure out my convictions?” he asked

and you swear, you’ve never seen such a smile from seonghwa

one that conveyed a plethora of emotions, ranging from honesty and vulnerability, to confusion and loss, to lightness and warmth

it filled you with an unnameable feeling

like something sliding into place, fitting perfectly; like it was always meant to be there, filling you with comfort

shyly intertwining your hands for the first time, you looked up to meet his gaze with a pattering heart and a smile matching his own

“,,,of course.”

[cayofdreams]

A Succubus’ Dilemma

Summary: Succubus!Reader is struggling with her identity as she gets closer to Kirishima. She wants to continue being the diligent, strong-willed hero that he praises her for being but the presence of Eijirou Kirishima is making that unbearably difficult. She just can't pretend to be quirkless anymore…

Words: 4.5k

Rating: 🌊 Explicit, Smut 

Warnings: cursing, virginity (but there’s no explicit mention of it), oral (receiving), aphrodisiac, heavy overstimulation, a bit of corruption, kinda dark ending? 

Notes: ~Welcome to another steamy piece from your favorite island resort~ 

This one is pretty straight-forward. I feel like I kicked up the smut on this one. Also, I based the ending off one of the endings of one of my favorite yaoi visual novels :-)              

You were lying down on Kirishima’s bed, deeply engrossed in the romantic scene transpiring on your phone’s screen. You had decided to entertain yourself with an episode from your favorite show while your best friend was in the shower.

‘I love you, Jake. But…I just want to wait before we get intimate. I’m just not ready, right now’

‘Of course, Kathrine! I’ll wait however long it takes! You’re so much more to me than a warm body!’

‘You say that…but what if I choose to stay celibate forever?’

‘Then you can live with the confidence that I, Jake Petersmith, have wholeheartedly loved you for the wonderful human that you are!  

‘Oh, Jake! 

‘Kathrine!’

You were tearing up at the cheesy displays of affection since you were a sucker for all things romantic. You loved how characters seemed to have an undying love for one another. Often, you fantasized about sharing that kind of ethereal love with someone yourself. How it would be to run together through a field of sunflowers, or skip hand-in-hand on the sandy surfaces of the beach, or even make couple pranksters YouTube videos that were so obviously not faked.

But that kind of future won’t happen for you. It can’t. Not in the gross body you were in. Surely you were easy on the eyes, but what lurked inside was a demon that constantly bewitched your thoughts. Making you see people around you as simply meat sticks and sticky caverns to be engorged in.

Simply put, you were a succubus. Or at least had a succubus-like quirk. You never told anyone though, only being known to your parents. You tried so hard to reign in these feelings on a daily basis while pretending to be quirkless. But it was becoming increasingly difficult as you got older and as you hung around the likes of…Kirishima.

Oh Kirishima. He was such a beautiful human on the inside and out. Always praising and encouraging you. Being there for you when it seemed you were at your worst low points, and then being there to pick you up and trophy you around when you succeeded at doing even just the bare minimum. You wished you could return even half the happiness to him that he gave you throughout your days at U.A. You wanted to do all the romantic things you saw in movies and books with him. Kirishima was just such a sunshine in your life and you wanted him to continue warming you for the rest of it.

There was a time where 90% of your thoughts toward him were like this…and then as time went on, they became more savagely. Where all you wanted was for him to sink those sharp teeth in your flesh, ravaging your body with a cock that could probably barely even fit inside you, holding you within those arms- those beautifully muscular arms that glistened provocatively with sweat when he trained. You wanted him. Needed him. Please desire me, Eijirou.

You were about to slip your hands down your underwear when you heard the creak of the door open.

“L/N!! Did you miss me?! I’m back!” Kirishima bursted through the door with that wide grin you loved so much.

Of course, I freaking missed you, Eijirou. You were only gone for 11 minutes, 35 seconds, and 23 milliseconds. But I missed every moment.

You covered up your lust with a chuckle. “You weren’t even gone that long.”

“Aww don’t say that!! I missed you, you know.” He teased at you.

Don’t tempt me, baby

“Haha, whatever, Kiri…” You sat up as Kirishima slumped down on the floor next to his coffee table and pulled out his laptop. “So what are we watching, tonight?”

“Hmm…not sure! What do you wanna watch, L/N?” He turned his head to smile back at you. He was so cute. So gorgeous. And your erotic thoughts seemed to be running rampant right now. Especially at the fact that the two of you would be huddled up alone together for who knows however long a movie marathon is. You had to find a way to quickly rid yourself of these thoughts.

“Mmm, let me look up some! Hold on.” A blatant lie. You were going to google get-dry-quick schemes so you could enjoy the rest of the night safely with Kirishima. It was the least he deserved after training so hard today.

HOW TO NOT BE HORNY??!!1!

You analyzed your search results before clicking on a forum where someone seemed to be going through the same dilemma as you.

‘Hello, my name is [redacted] and I’m horny all the time ☹. I’ve lost so many boyfriends because of it and I truly want to find a husband, but it would be silly of me to expect them to drop everything to please me. How can I stop these feelings?’

Someone just like you! You weren’t alone in this cruel abyss. Perhaps she also had a succubus quirk!

Looking through the answers wasn’t much help for the most part. Most of the replies being trolls who asked where she was so they could “help” her. Even worse were the ones that chastised her for her feelings. Saying she was impure and needed to change her ways.

But your eyes were intrigued at the first comment that seemed to provide some kind of helpful information.

‘You might be a nymphomaniac. Have you tried talking with a professional?’

A nym- what? What was that? You opened another tab.

What is a nympomiac?

Too concerned with research to get the correct spelling, you saw articles for definitions of the auto-corrected word.

Nym∙pho∙ma∙ni∙ac

               Noun: a woman with uncontrollable or excessive sexual desire

Gasping at the accuracy you divulged further.

How to not be a nymphomiakc?

A lot of the results for this returned with solutions that were too time-consuming. Prescribed medication, cognitive therapy, and even some evil medieval treatments that involved leeches.

But you needed something now. Why were all these long-winded answers so abundant?! Couldn’t they just give you something to do now? What the fuck would you have to do?? Shove an iceblock your pussy?? Should you go ask Todoroki for a favor??

You were in the middle of texting Todoroki when Kirishima pulled you out of your frenzy.

“You find anything, L/N?”

“Gyahh! What?!” You dropped your phone and looked at Kirishima like you were a deer caught in his headlights.

“Woah, you okay there?! Did I scare you? Maybe horror isn’t a good idea, then.” His worried face could send you to the grave. How could you let him worry about you like this?

“Ohh..no Kiri. I’m fine. We can just watch whatever you want.” You eased your breaths, desperately trying to sound normal.

“You sure?! Awesome! There’s this zombie flick I’ve been meaning to watch but I get kinda scared watching stuff like that alone.” He clicked around happily through some tabs on his browser. “I think if its with someone as courageous as you, I’ll be less scared.”

Was he trying to make you cry? Saying something so beautiful like that with a face like his. Shame on him, honestly.

“I’m gonna play it now, you ready?”

“Mmhm”

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

The movie so far was just as you hoped: grotesque, gory, horrifying, and most importantly, non-arousing. It helped that you stayed on the bed while Kirishima sat on the floor, so I guess that was cheating, but nonetheless necessary.  

“You doin’ okay up there, L/N?” Kirishima checked up on you. You had probably been suspiciously quiet due to concentrating on waving away any little lewd thoughts.

“Oh yeah, what about you, Kiri?”

“W-Well! I was kinda thinking! That maybe uhh…I could possibly join you up there?” He scratched his head in nervousness at his slighty flirty suggestion.

Oh no

“Up where?”

“On the bed. Y-you know…with you?”

At this point you didn’t really know whether to praise or curse the gods above you. If there was one thing you could be sure to thank them for, it was the dark room that hid the flustering of your facial expression.

“I-Its your bed after all…”

“I know! I guess its just- heheh..nevermind! I’m hopping up!” Kirishima rugged his massive body on the bed next to you. Even taking some of the blanket you had so you’d be forced to share with him, he just softly smiled as he did so.

This was way too much for the hellion within you to handle. You could smell his strong scent from beside you. His breathing more pronounced in your ear drums. And its like you could feel his heartbeat within you. Pulsating inside you…

Things would take a turn for the worse when it seemed like a sweet romantic scene was about to show up. The two main leads were alone in a bunker and one of them had just revealed they were bitten.

“Samuel, Nooo!”

“Lilia! Listen to me! I need you to hear what I have to say.”

“We don’t have time, Samuel! We- We need to get you medicine. We have to! We have-“

“Stop, Lilia! There’s nothing that can save me now! You and I both know what happens from here.”

“Samuel…”

“Lilia… I want you to be the one who does it.”

“I can’t…Samuel..I can’t”

“You have to, Lilia. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.”

“Don’t do this, Sam…”

“I love you, Lilia.”

“Oh Samuel! I’ll never be with anyone else! Ever!”

“Lilia…”

The words lingered in your head as the movie continued on.

‘I’ll never be with anyone else’

Was such an option available to you? Even if you did take away the innocence of your love, Kirishima Eijirou, who’s to know how your body would react? The best result would be that your body would finally be satisfied and you’d no longer have these perverse thoughts.

On the other hand, maybe you’d just sink further and further down. Drowning in the suffocating waters of lust. And then what? Kirishima can’t just drop everything to cater to your needs. No. He was going to be hero. An amazing one at that.

But Kirishima wasn’t just a hero, he was your best friend. You felt awful every time he would praise your strong-willed persona. Saying how amazing you were despite being quirkless. He’d even say you were more manly than him at times. It was like you were betraying him. You were betraying that innocent smile he wore for you everyday…you couldn’t hold it anymore.

“Kirishima.”

He looked back at you, surprised at your rare use of his name. Sensing something was wrong he paused the movie and turned his entire body to face yours.

“L/N, what’s wrong”

You were doing it again. Making him worry over you. But you couldn’t keep holding in this secret. You needed to tell him.

“I have to ask you something…”

“Please ask! I’m listening with all ears, L/N” He perked up at you. He looked just like a puppy, waiting for your every move like that.

“What do you think about…impulsive people?”

“Huh? Impulsive people?” He scratched his head at the question. “Well…I guess they’re entertaining to watch? Kind of like Bakugou. But I suppose being too impulsive is bad. You could get yourself or others in danger.”

Your head lowered at his statement, eyes closing shut. Of course he would say something like that. It’s only natural for humans to be mindful of their indulgences. They had to. It’s a part of social conformity after all.

Yet still, it hurt.

He noticed your displeasure in his answer.

“What’s wrong, L/N? Why did you ask that? You’re not impulsive at all!” He was trying to cheer you up, but it only dug the knife further into your chest. “You’re one of the most dignified, tough, and resilient people I know!”

Tears were starting to form in your eyes and before you could object him he continued.

“A-and that’s why…That’s why I love you, F/N. I want you to be my girlfriend.”

As much as you wanted to pull him close to you and pamper him with kisses, you needed to come clean. You shot up from the bed, your back faced towards him and your handing closing into a clenched fist.

“That can’t happen, Kirishima! It won’t work!”

Kirishima followed you by jumping up from the bed, grabbing you by the arms to get you to face him. “Why, F/N?! Why can’t it happen? Is there something wrong with me?! Please just tell me!”

“Nooo…nooo there’s nothing wrong with you, Kiri..” The waterworks flowed from your eyes and violent sobs escaped from you. You slumped down on your knees in sorrow. Kirishima joined you on the floor and tried to pull you into him, but you’d jerk your body away. “You know nothing about me, Kirishima…I’ve- I’ve lied to you.”

“What do you mean, F/N? What did you lie about? I’m sure its not that bad!”

“I’m not quirkless, Kiri…” A couple more sobs came out of you. “I-I’m a demon…a succubus. A filthy succubus! Just a filthy disgusting succubus!!”

Not being able to stand your self-hatred, he grabbed you by the jaw to force you to look at him. His blazingly crimson eyes met your beautifully wet e/c ones. “Stop that, F/N! You’re not disgusting! Or filthy! You could never be those things!”.

You gripped his wrist and pulled it harshly away from you. “What would you know?! You don’t know the things I deal with inside this wicked head of mine! I encompass the most obscene thoughts about people! About you! Every morning I think about how I’m going to seduce you and get you to desire me just as much as I do! Every training session I look at that beautifully sculpted body of yours and I mentally defile it! Thinking of you as nothing more than a walking, breathing dildo! I see you when you’re smiling with your friends and all I want to do is just steal you away make you mine forever! And every night, I cry at the lack of pleasure I’m getting. The lack of warmth that I only want YOU to give to me. The lack of feeling your hot, meaty cock inside me! It drives me insane, Eijirou! I hate having these thoughts! I hate them! I hate them! I ha-hmmph!”

Kirishima had suddenly kissed you, and you had returned it by ravaging your tongue around his. You didn’t care about the cuts you might receive from his teeth grazing against your delicate flesh. You could only be swallowed by the pleasures overtaking your mouth. You drowned in each other, but only briefly before you had placed your hands on his chest and pushed him away from you.

“What are you doing?! Didn’t you just hear what I said?” You struggled to catch your breath as you wiped away the remnants of his saliva from your face.

“Why didn’t you tell me this, F/N? Did you…did you not trust me? Did you not think of me as manly enough to handle this?” His hands gripped tightly at your shoulders, craving a reply from you.

“You know that’s not true, Kiri. You’re the best person to ever come into my life, and that’s why I had to withhold this secret from you. I didn’t want you to abandon me.”

“I could never aban-“

“But I also didn’t want you to get wrapped up in me. I want you to continue your goals of becoming a hero, Eijirou. Who knows what sanity you’ll be sacrificing by being with me. It’s not a chance I’m willing to take.”

“That isn’t your call to make.” Kirishima’s uncharacteristically cold reply created an atmosphere that overwhelmed you.

“What do you mean? Hiding my quirk was the best decision.”

“Did you really think about me?” Kirishima’s hands glided from your shoulders to your upper arms, still holding a tight grip. “Did you think about how I’d feel if I knew you were holding yourself back like that? What if you’re killing yourself and you don’t know it? I’m supposed to be a hero, F/N. Your hero.”

Before you could reply he had stood up and lifted you back on the bed. He layed you down and positioned himself between your legs, squeezing at your thighs. They were so soft, so delicate. All of you was soft and delicate. And nothing you had told him tonight would change the way he felt about you. There was nothing you could say or do to change his feelings for you. Nothing.

You tried to pry his hands away from the meat of your thighs, but you were admittedly weak from his confession and the thick, encompassing atmosphere that was Kirishima’s presence around you. “Kiri-“

“Eijirou. Call me Eijiirou.”

“…Eijirou. We can’t do this. It’s dangerous…”

“It’s dangerous if I do, its dangerous if you don’t. But I’m telling you right now, F/N, I’m not letting you continue to do this to yourself. Knowing that you’re hurting like this and not being able to do anything? Not doing anything to help the one I love? What kind of hero would I be?...What kind of man would I be?”

Kirishima then leaned down to capture your lips in another kiss. You tried to move your head away but he took one of his hands against your jaw to hold you in place. It felt so good. So fucking good. His lips, his tongue, his rough hands. You teared up just at the pleasure of it all.

He then took his other hand to lift up your shirt, revealing your bra that contained the softest bust that any man could ever lay his hand upon. And right now that man was him. And he’d make sure it’d always be him.

Letting go of your lips, he roughly caressed your breasts before completely pulling your shirt over your head. Faint thoughts of resistance would slip away as you lost yourself in the pleasure you’d been craving for so long.

Struggling to get your bra off, Kirishima impatiently ripped it himself, using a bit of his quirk in the process.

“Eiji…”

“Sshh, baby. I’m gonna take care of you so well.” He slipped off your shorts along with your underwear and threw them unmindfully on the floor. Gripping the flesh below your inner knee, he spread your legs wide enough to slightly sting.

Your pussy was overflowing with juices for him and he barely even touched you yet. He took a moment to relish in the view, taking in deep breaths to smell your intoxicating aroma. He was inexperienced at sex but he knew this erotic perfume you were exuding could only have been the work of your succubus traits.  He leaned down to give an experimental lick, his tongue curling to make sure he could gather as much of your juices as he could. He let your flavor sit in his mouth as if trying to enjoy the last sip of water on a mission in the desert.

His lewd behaviors made an unbearable heat rise to your face and you cowered behind your hands. Irritated, Kirishima jerked your hands away and looked at you as if you just insulted his entire lineage.

“Don’t you dare cover up that beautiful face of yours.” He leaned his head back down, this time capturing all the folds of your pussy in his mouth. “I want to see every expression you make. Hear every seductive sound that leaves that your throat.” The vibrations of his voice on your pussy drove you crazy. The rapid moving of his tongue against your clit was immediately sending you to a heavenly dimension.

“Ohh Eiji…Eiji I’m gonna cum…”

“Cum for me, baby. I want it.”

Your orgasm was so intense you could’ve passed out, but you couldn’t. Not with Eijirou still licking all over your clit like that.

“Oh my god, Eiji! Eijiii” Your hands gripped at his spiky hair, tugging tightly trying to get him to have mercy on your sensitive bud. “F-ffuckk! I can’t, Eiji, I can’t!”

Still not letting up, he continued to overstimulate you with his relentless tongue. “I’m sorry, F/N.” He slurped up your juices before working his tongue again. “You taste so fucking good. Like the freshest fruit from a garden.” He rotated between drinking up your fluids and licking vigorously at your clit. “I can’t stop, baby. I need more. Just cum again, okay?”

And cum, you would. A second orgasm was on the horizon and the overstimulation of it was making you shed tears. “Eiji…I’m gonna cum again. Oh my fucking god, I’m gonna cum againnn- Hnngh!!“. Intense waves of pleasure rode over you. However, Kirishima was still lapping up at your folds. “Eijirouuuu!!!”. Your moans became more high-pitched and erratic as you were overstimulated now for the second time.

“Just one more time, baby. I promise”. “I swear I just-“ Slurp. “Never tasted-“ Slurrp. “Anything so fucking good before.”

You were left with no choice but to cave into your third orgasm and Kirishima seemed to show no mercy for you. “Fucckkk.” You sniffled through your sobs as your next high came quicker than the previous ones. Finally Kirishima had lifted his head from between your lips. He had the most animalistic and erotic face you could have ever dreamed of seeing.

“Damn, that was so good. You did so well for me, baby.” Kirishima gleamed with the shine that was your juices. He leaned down to entwine his tongue with yours. You could taste yourself on him and it made you delirious. You had just cum three times, but you wanted more. You needed more.

Kirishima felt the same way as you as he backed up to give himself space to take his shorts off. Cock now springing free, you could see the beast of a rod he had and it made your mouth water. You whined at just the thought of the pleasure you were about to become entranced by. He lined himself up at your sopping entrance, but before he could slip in, you lightly pressed on his chest to get his attention.

“Are you sure, Eijirou? You can stop right now if want. I won’t be mad at you at all. You’ve already done so much for me, tonight.”

His cheeks faded into a deep pink as he moved your hands to be at his shoulders.

“I want you, F/N”. He stuck the tip of his cock in you, grunting at the tightness of your entrance. “I fucking want you.”

You let out a guttural moan as he slowly stretched your pussy to fit his cock. You finally felt it. The warmth you’d been craving deep inside. The stingingly sweet pain of his cock stretching out your drenched pussy. You could die right now. Right here in the arms of the man you loved. And your ghost would be perfectly okay with it. But your flesh craved even more. You needed him to reach the deepest parts of you. You needed him to destroy your greedy pussy.

“Fuck me, Eijirou. I want you to fuck me like the greedy slut that I am!” You looked directly into his dazed eyes, whining at him to give you what you wanted. “Please, I want you so bad. Mark this pussy with that cock of yours. Make me unable to think about anyone else like this. C’mon, give it to me! ”

Too aroused by your begging, he silently obliged. Sinking the entirety of his cock inside you, he twitched at your pulsating walls. It was like your pussy was a  breathing organ, sucking him in and tightening around him so he could never leave. And he wasn’t going to. He’d stay like this forever with you.

Not giving you time to get used to his size, Kirishima started thrusting brutally against your hips. You let out the sweetest moans as you littered his back with scratches. His thrusts becoming smoother and smoother as your pussy got used to him. His cock ferociously grazed against your g-spot as the tip teasingly nibbed at your cervix. The perfect mix of pleasure and pain, you felt your now fourth orgasm approaching. You let go of his shoulders to lay your head back deep in the cushions of his pillows.

“Eijirou, you’re gonna make me cum again! You’re gonna make me cum all over your cock-!”

“Oh fuck- me too, F/N”. The rhythm of his thrusts became more faltered as your walls inhumanely squeezed the life out of him. He looked at your cock-drunk face, pleased with his performance. “Where do you want it, baby?”

You raised your head to reestablish eye contact with him. “I want it inside! Cum inside me! I need your cum so bad, need to feel it in my-Hmmnghh!!” Your orgasm overtook your speaking as you groaned hysterically.

Kirishima not far behind you, quickened his pace to chase his own high. “Shit, F/N! I’m gonna cum inside you! Fucking take all of it, baby! Don’t let any seep out, okay?”

You moaned at the hotness of his seed spurting inside. It was so deep inside you and you wondered if it was either easier or more difficult to get pregnant as a succubus. Either way you wanted more and your walls clenched once again against Kirishima’s cock.

He grunted before leaning down to bury his face in your neck, once again starting to thrust inside you. He was overstimulated but your pussy was driving him crazy. Perhaps your juices were an aphrodisiac, making anyone a slave to the area between your thighs. He kissed along your jaw and brought his hand up against your throat. He didn’t squeeze tight, just enough to get your attention.

He rose his head up to get a good look at your face. You looked liked a corrupted angel beneath him. He couldn’t believe you withholded him from these pleasures for so long. Were you just gonna go fuck other guys? You were going to let other men taste what has been his all along? He needed to hear you say you belonged to him. He’d give up anything to hear your sweet voice tell him everything from your insides and out belonged to him.

“Tell me who you belong to, baby?”

You replied with no hesitation, willing to say and do anything to milk more of his cum inside you.

“You, Eijirou! I belong to you! My flesh, my womb, my guts! Everything belongs to you Eijirou!” You felt another orgasm filling up in your stomach. “Please don’t ever leave me, Eiji. I want you with me forever. “

Of course, this was something he had no qualms about doing. He was ready. He’d give up school, his goals, his life to please you at every waking moment. He’d keep you pumped full of his cum so you’d never think about anyone else. You wouldn’t even remember what it was like to live like you weren’t a succubus. You’d be happy like this. With him.

Because he was your hero.

[anxiouspotatorants]

Whoopsy daisy I made a Shadow and Bone random thoughts post:

The costumes in this show are impeccable. I was drooling over all the keftas and the ball gowns in 1.05 and the crow outfits. Hell, even the winter-camo outfits that Mal, Mikhael and Dubrov wore in 1.04 were amazing.

Am I the only one who isn’t surprised by the kruge pronounciation? Because I thought it would sound like how English people say Scandinavian words and I wasn’t wrong.

Coming in to this show as someone who had only read the Six of Crows duology, I expected to at least tolerate Malina based on the trailer clips. I kid you not: less than five minutes into the very first episode they owned my ass. That might be a new record for me.

Seriously the friendship? The pining? The finding home in each other and being able to acknowledge their faults and apologize to each other? Both of them having massive “fight me” energy and protecting each other? Hugs?? Why am I surprised that I ship this?

Some of those scene transitions/flashback edits were so good! Like I know they repeated that meadow scene a lot throughout the season, but the cuts from kid-Mal looking at the rabbit to grown up Mal psyching himself up for the fist fight? Poetic cinema.

The Darkling was horrible and I love it. He wasn’t a carbon copy villain, nor did his complexity redeem him. He was a perfectly complex and understandable monster and I am living for it. I have not been so happy to despise a character in ages and I genuinely bow in gratitude to both the writers and Ben Barnes, because I finally got to enjoy watching a character I did not for one second root for ( #writevillainswellagain)

Look I already loved Jesper in the book but his on-screen translation elevated him from a fave to the fave. I was worried that they would push him into a comedic relief-role, but he got to keep both his heart, his depth, and his humour. Kit Young did an amazing job bringing what was already a great character on page to an even greater character on screen and I once again applaud.

Am I a bit bitter that the casting had some interesting choices for certain roles (aka hiring light skin and mid-size actors for explicitly darker skin and plus-size roles)? Kind of. Do I think there are important discussions worth having about this? Yup. Do I also think that every actor hired for Shadow and Bone did an amazing job and deserve zero hate and massive amounts of love? Also yes.

I had Alexei for one episode and one episode only, and I still miss that poor sucker. This show did a surprisingly good job with making me care about a massive amount of characters considering the screen time they had and the amount of episodes this season had. Good job.

For some reason I expected Inej to be a lot more brooding based on how I perceived her in the books but I love what Amita Suman did with her. Her translation completely recontextualised everything I remember from the books and just brought this truly fresh character to life. Assassin with a conscience indeed.

Also I did love the Kaz we got in this season but I can barely contain myself as I wait for season 2 to be made and for a certain flashback to take place because that moment in the book was visceral and it stayed with me for a long time and I knew before the show announcement that this flashback could become a television moment. 

Speaking of Kaz the crows were so chaotic and messy and I’m here for it. Their interactions with each other and their improvised back-up plans were everything. I somehow didn’t expect the crows to become the comedic relief of the season but it honestly makes so much sense.

A couple episodes in I still didn’t get the Zoya hype (remember I haven’t read the books) but was a massive Genya fan. By the end of the season I was like “oh both of these girls are getting redemption arcs and I am here for it”.

Speaking of redemption I still don’t like Matthias. I’m sorry but I just don’t. I get that he is important to many and that they like his relationship with Nina, but I just don’t have the patience for him and feel like Nina can do better. I still want him to get a redemption... but maybe not through a romance with the grisha woman he repeatedly slutshames, is bigoted towards and chokes at least once (twice if that SoC scene from book 1 happens). That being said this is just how I see him, so feel what ever you feel about him and ship to your heart’s content!

Alina’s journey through this season made complete sense to me. It hurt to see certain things, but they were necessary in my eyes. Seeing her go from this essentially insecure but brave girl to a manipulated pawn to an even stronger and more self reliant girl in spite of everything was amazing. It did feel like a well-written hero’s journey and I’m looking forward to seeing where she goes next.

Apparently a lot of book-readers don’t like Mal (and I am not here to change anyone’s mind about that) but the Mal I saw on the show was amazing. I actually kind of wish we had seen more of who he was outside of his relationship to Alina (f.ex. other flashbacks than the meadow, maybe something about any of his missions while separated from Alina pre-show), but I also loved what we got of him with Alina. We still got to see a guy who was brave, stubborn, flirtatious, a bit judgemental but with a strong sense of humour, and a lot of loyalty (to Alina but also to his friends). I can hardly wait to see what’s next for him.

Milo the goat. Where do I even begin. Not only did we get that Jesper-scene, but their farewell actually became a Chekhov’s gun for Mal in 1.07? Milo is the true hero of the season.

Speaking of 1.07 I loved the tent scene between Alina and the Darkling. She both got to be realistic about her feelings for the Darkling and stand up for herself and for others and call him out. The way I interpret the Darkling, he is the kind of villain who creates a saviour narrative around himself but cares more about power than anything else. He’ll say he’s doing everything to protect his people but is the first to kill the very people he claims to love. And Alina’s tent-speech really hammered that in for me.

I adore Baghra. Is she morally dubious? Yes. Was she incredibly mean to Alina during training to the point where it might have been excessive? Yes. Did she not take any of the Darkling’s bullshit and act as the proper mentor for Alina when the Darkling had said that he was going to train her? Yes. Am I kind of a Baghra stan now? I mean maybe.

The antler-collar was so evil and gross but from a visually narrative stand point it was perfect. 

Also I still have no idea who David is but I want redemption for him too. Honestly I feel like half the supporting cast is gearing up for redemption arcs next season and I am excited for most of them.

Nina’s reaction when she hears Kaz on the boat? Priceless. Actually the whole boat scene from when she goes up on deck again to the cut back to the fold was priceless.

That being said the final scene had me even more ready for season 2.

Jesper kind of gave me messy period-fantasy James Bond? Does that make sense?

And Mal kind of gave me Lois Lane energy? As in he’s the mortal love interest that many assume is the hero/heroine’s weakness but actually functions as their emotional strength and inspiration? Am I reaching here or am I getting somewhere?

Mikhael and Dubrov. What a duo. Absolute madlads.

Also I’d like to see more Nadia if that is possible? Because the few scenes we had of her had me intrigued but then she sort of disappeared? Is she going to be important or was she just more of a temporary supporting character? 

I entered this show a casual Six of Crows fan with mild interest in Kanej and I finished this season a mess. A mess who ships Kanej and Malina and Genya with that David guy even though they had about 30 seconds of screentime together and Zoya with redemption and Jesper with main-character status (hey we’re not getting Wylan until season 2 at least) and kind of those two Ravkan army guys and Nina with anyone else and Matthias with a better redemption storyline and the Darkling with karma! Also, a mess with a whole new set of comfort characters!

[dottielovegood]

8. Is what you like to write the same as what you like to read?

10. How would you describe your writing process?

18. Do any of your stories have alternative versions? (plotlines that you abandoned, AUs of your own work, different characterisations?) Tell us about them.

23. What’s the story idea you’ve had in your head for the longest?

8. Is what you like to write the same as what you like to read?

Yes, I think it is. I do believe in writing the stories you want to read. I definitely write the kind of fanfics I like to read, but when it comes to ‘real’ literature, I do enjoy a wider variety. I do prefer books about romance, though. I tend to get bored by books if there’s no romance at all. Also, I read a lot of LGBTQ+ romance novels but I have yet to write a story about a non-straight couple.

10. How would you describe your writing process? In one word: Slow In more words: 1. Come up with an idea 2. Daydream about it excessively (especially when I commute to work) 3. Try to write it 4. Fail 5. Get a sudden burst of inspiration and energy (usually fuelled by wine) and then I sit down and write for HOURS 6. Edit (very important since you know… wine) 7. Read everything again + tell myself that it is shit 8. Post it anyway because I worked hard on it. Repeat. 

18. Do any of your stories have alternative versions? (plotlines that you abandoned, AUs of your own work, different characterisations?) Tell us about them. Hmm, not really? I mean, Pretty Little Angel was not supposed to be 30 chapters when I started. It was just going to be like 10 chapters of smut, but then the story kind of grew and all of a sudden I had a plot somewhere between all the smut. I had some really smutty chapters planned (yes, smuttier than the ones in the fic), but they didn’t really fit the vibe when I had to consider the overall plot. So, I guess PLA could have been smuttier/kinkier? 

23. What’s the story idea you’ve had in your head for the longest? If we’re talking about the stories I have published so far, I think Bloom is the one that has been with me the longest. I started thinking about it last year during my many hours on a train every week. It is supposed to be the first story in a trilogy (the other two will be Feysand and Nessian). I have all three stories planned out - I just need to write them. Apart from those stories, I have this idea that came to me when I started to think about why SJM seems to love the idea of mates so much and I came to the conclusion that she must have read a lot of alpha/beta/omega stories. And then I thought, hmm, I wonder what would happen if there were some a/b/o dynamics in acotar? And what if an alpha/omega bond was stronger than a cauldron given bond? And what would happen if Azriel was an alpha, and Elain an omega? (I have no idea if this fic will ever be written because writing a/b/o just feels a bit weird and there are a few things in those fics that gross me out - like the excessive use of the words ‘glands’ and ‘slick’. But maybe if I take some creative liberties? Who knows.)

[dwellordream]

“I can’t believe I have to write this down right now, but my dear friends, medieval people bathed regularly. Yes. I assure you. I am very serious. It is true. In fact, medieval people loved a bath and can in many ways be considered a bathing culture, much in the way that say, Japan is now. Medieval people also very much valued being clean generally in an almost religious way. This is not to say that getting clean was as easy for medieval people as it is for us now.

But medieval people were very clever and had ways of getting around that. So, say you are an average-ass medieval person. That means you are a peasant, because 85% of the population or so were peasants. This meant that you were working very hard doing manual labour in a field. How would you stay clean? Well you would probably wash daily at home. This usually involved filling an ewer with water, heating it and then poring it into a larger basin which allowed for ease of scrubbing….

Say that you couldn’t or didn’t have time to heat up water though, what then? Well people would just bathe in a local water source… So, fine, regular people figured out how to get wet, right? Well, the other thing that is important to note here (and I can’t believe I am saying this), when washing at home medieval people used soap. Yes. I am serious. They did. In fact soap is a motherfucking medieval invention. Yes. It is. The Romans – whomst I don’t see a bunch of basics going around accusing of being filthy – did not, in fact have soap, in contrast. They usually washed using oil. Medieval people? Oh you better believe that they had soap.

It was first introduced from the East, like most good stuff was at the time, but it took off rather quickly. Your peasant ass would likely have been making soap at home, and books of secrets often included various recipes for soap, all of which can still be made today. The general ingredients were usually tallow, mutton or beef fat, some type of wood ash or another, potash, and soda.

However, soap could also be purchased. As early as the seventh century soap makers guilds began to spring up , trading it as a high value commodity. If you were fancy enough to be buying soap you could also get the good imported stuff initially from Aleppo, which was traded heavily and involved laurel oil rather than animal fat. After importing rather a lot of this to Castille, in the twelfth century the denizens there got to thinking that they could probably create a similar product using the local olive oil. Voila! Castille soap was born and also became a popular trade good.

Even if you couldn’t get the good fancy soap, many people would scent the water that they bathed in, often with thyme or sage. People often used herbs not just for washing, but in deodorant as well. Yes. They had deodorant. It was often made of bay leaves, hyssop or sage. In fact, one of the more popular medieval deodorant recipes came from Dioscorides, a Greek physician active in the first century AD. His De Materia Medica was super popular throughout the medieval period and advised readers on how to make a deodorant using salvia and sage.

Medieval people also regularly washed both their hands and faces both before and after meals when in between baths because – stay with me here – they knew that dirt and grime could be hazardous to their health if ingested. Yes. They did. They really really did. In fact, the whole washing after eating thing was an explicit health concern, because as medieval medical writers such as Magninius Mediolanesis noted, If any of the waste products of third digestion are left under the skin that were not resolved by exercise and massage, these will be resolved by the bath.

Our girl Hildegard of Bingen even had a recipe for face cleanser because apparently she was a skin-care bitch. She advises that, one whose face has hard and rough skin, made harsh from the wind, should cook barley in water and, having strained that water through a cloth, should bathe his face gently with the moderately warm water. The skin will become soft and smooth, and will have a beautiful color.

So yes, medieval people, even regular old peasants were pretty clean types of people. In fact, they were so clean that for them bathing constituted a leisure activity. So the average person would likely wash daily at home, but once a week or so they would treat themselves to a bath at the communal bath house. That is where the party was at.

…You, my gentle readers may have picked up on something here, and that is that our girls the sex workers be showing right TF up in the public baths. This meant that whether or not you admitted them made the difference between whether you were keeping a bathhouse or a brothel. Here in London, of course the Stews in Southwark were essentially brothels where you could also have a bath (and were largely owned by the Bishop of Winchester (as you do).

Having said that, there were plenty of people who went to bathhouses just to go to bathhouses and by 1292 in Paris, there were at least 26 running that could give you just a bath. Medieval people related to this very much as we do having a spa day, and medieval bathhouses often included steam baths along with big wooden tubs where you could sit down and enjoy a meal. In order to stand out from the crowd, the Parisian bathhouses would even employ criers to advertise themselves.

And, I cannot stress this enough, this was just for regular ass people. Rich people? Oh, you better believe they were bathing, and often had dedicated rooms for washing unlike the poors. They also might go places simply to bathe, like Bath in England, or the thermal baths in Pozzuli in Campania, which was so famous it had a whole ass poem, De balneis Puteolanis written about it. They could also afford that nice soap and perfume and all that good stuff. In fact they were so into poncey baths that most medieval knighthood ceremonies involved having a scented bath.

So OK, clearly, fucking clearly medieval people bathed and were clean and into it. So why am I telling you all of this? Well the idea that medieval people didn’t bathe is a persistent myth that some basics on twitter will come at me with at least once a week. Why is that? Well part of it is a modern misunderstanding of the idea of bathing. It’s true that we have medieval sources which warn against “excessive” bathing. But here’s the thing, that wasn’t really about being clean, it was about hanging out naked in bathhouses with the opposite sex. They didn’t want you to not be clean, they wanted you to not be going down the bath house and getting your fuck on.

And yeah, some holy people didn’t bathe, notably saints who would forego bathing themselves but bathe sick or poor people. But if you bring that up you are missing the point. Medieval people thought that bathing and being clean was really nice, so giving it up and living with your stank was a sign that you had given up on the corporeal world and only thought of heaven. It was holy because it was uncomfortable, like wearing a hair shirt, or eating vegan, and hitting your chest with rocks and sitting in the desert trying not to wank. You know, standard saint stuff. It is mentioned because it is uncommon and uncomfortable.

These things, while they make sense in context are often taken by people who have never learned a damn thing about the middle ages and read in the worst possible light. If you intrinsically believe (and it is a belief) that the medieval period is the Dark Ages, and very bad, then you read stuff like this and just assume people are gross and dirty, even if there’s no real evidence of that.

You know what else helps? Well, in the modern period sometimes people were gross. In both the sixteenth and eighteenth centuries, there were times when some doctors claimed that bathing was harmful. This was often linked to the idea that bathing with warm water would open the pores and allow contagion in. And here’s the thing about that – a lot of people just don’t know what the medieval period is, but they are pretty sure it is when stuff was gross. So if they hear about doctors telling you not to bathe they are like, “LOL medieval people were gross”, even if that is going down smack bang in the modern period.

Now on the one hand we can see this as a historical quibble. After all it’s not like I don’t have a history of getting big mad about someone incorrectly relating to the medieval period. But here’s the thing, allowing myths like this to perpetuate allows us to keep upholding harmful ideas about the medieval period that furthers our colonialist ideas about history, and simultaneously allows us to gloss over all the harmful and gross stuff that we as modern people do. If we always blame medieval people for everything difficult it allows us to deny their humanity and write off a thousand years of thinking and culture that still influences us now. So, like, could you not?

- Eleanor Janega, “I assure you, medieval people bathed.”

[mxvladdy]

heyy i just read your fic Case of the Munchies on ao3 and im Loving it!!!! its amazing!! i was wonder if youre accepting requests and if you haven’t done it could you write the same for the rest: mammon, levi, satan, belphi, dia, barbatos and smth for simeon and luke (ofc platonic) like how angles have a true form and that means they can never relax around mc and how solomon has so much power at his fingertips he can just snap and end them or smth like that? pretty please and thank you!!!!

A/N: Of Course! Of Course! I already did Mammon and Levi HERE so I’ll do the other four in this request! You sent me a lot of good ideas and I’ll sprinkle them out into other requests soon!

Hope you like it!!

Case of the Munchies prt 3!

Word Count: 4.2k

Characters: Satan, Belphie, Diavolo, Barbatos

TW: Mentions of eating and cook humans, very mild gore

Satan

As the only full-blooded demon of the seven, he has thought about it...just hypothetically of course. When you were new to the Devildom he did find your scent more appetizing than the others. It’s a good thing he has the most restraint and control of all his kin, especially when it comes to his more base urges.

He doesn’t hide this knowledge from you. It’s readily available in the library and his own room in the history books. He just won’t bring it up. So if you don’t say anything, he won’t either. What would he say anyway? “Yes, I’ve thought about it, up until it was outlawed it was a staple of our diet after all…” Ye, probably not the best thing to say.

When you finally brought it up he was exasperated. Did you have to bring it up during the few hours he had alone with himself? He wasn’t going to lie but the thought of hurting your feelings would just about do him in.

He will alleviate your worries if you have any. If Satan was anything, he was genuine.

Mini Fic

His wine curdles in his stomach, turning sour along with the take-out he had nabbed for the two of you to enjoy tonight. Drinks and dinner were becoming a staple in your T.V. night tradition. If one of you had had a rough day you would drop by your favorite shop of the hour and pick up a meal to share while you vent.

Today in particular had been a shit day for him. Failed experiment after failed experiment, and one bottle that didn’t explode on impact with the potion he dropped. Sigh. At least your comforting words soothed his wounded pride a little. You chuckle at his escapades glad to see he is not hurt at least. It was nice to have someone to see the humor in something that normally would have dampened his mood.

“You’re a pest.” He laughs at you while snapping his takeout chopsticks in half to use. “I need sympathy-hours of work wasted.” You snort into your own bowl of udon.

“You need words of praise like Beel needs another stomach.” Satan gasps in mock insult pointing a sauce stained chopstick at you.

“How dare you insult your host! After I toiled over this meal of-” What did he get exactly? Honestly, when he placed the order he was near boiling with rage at his careless fumble. It was to be a surprise for you, something to give you a bit of magic while supervised by himself. He knew how frustrated you were with your lack of magical ability in class so he wanted to gift you something grand. Now he has to wait months to try again.

Ah, well...nothing ventured nothing gained as they say.

You watch him sulk over his soup dumplings, his mile away from the comfort of your company and his room. “Come on blondie.” You poke him with your foot before burying them under his pajama-clad thighs on the couch. “Eat your ‘hard earned’ meal before I do.” You snatch up his D.D.D forgetting your own food for a moment to set up your favorite streaming service to cast to his small T.V. “Want to watch a bunch of humans fail miserably at baking?”

"I thought you would never ask."

Satan feels you stiffen in his arms two hours into your bake-off marathon. Your takeout boxes are cold and forgotten on his coffee table, a bottle of wine gone between the two of you. He glances down at you curious.

You were transfixed on the screen. The novice baker on screen was struggling to keep his monstrosity of a cake upright. It was the annual Halloween episode and this fool went for a Silence of the Lambs inspired cake. A good concept really, but very poorly executed. The fake body parts and sugar blood weighted the pastry down dangerously. If he were, to be frank, the cake was also tacky as hell. Heh, he'd have to try to make this for Lucifer.

"Does his abuse of the piping gun offend you that much?" He jokes wrapping an arm around you.

Your laugh is breathy and lacks its usual warmth. "It is excessive isn't it?" You look up at him. "Hey, Satan-have you ever eaten people before?"

"Uhh…" Great, how eloquent. This came out of nowhere, did Lucifer set you up to this? No-no you wouldn’t. Would you hate him if you knew? “I have.” He admits through clenched teeth waiting for your reaction.

“Didn’t Diavolo ban it?” He can tell you are doing the mental math in your head.

He chuckles dryly. “Well, you never asked if I did it legally.” You move away from his touch and pause the show. “I mean...I did it legally! ” His mouth runs freely, his brain screaming at him to shut up.

“Satan.” You cross your arms unimpressed.

“It was a new law and I never meant to eat it for the most part. It was at a time where I was still struggling to control myself.” Young and stupid as Lucifer had said defending him every step of the way when he would slip up. Was it sold on the black market now? Yes. Did he know how to get it? Sure, but he would never nor would he tell you about it either.

You nod thinking about his words. “I can empathize.” Oh, thank the Devil. “Have you thought of eating me?”Ahhh. “Oh my God, you have.” You chuck a pillow at him with a laugh.

He catches the pillow and clutches it to his fiery hot face. “Everyone did at first!” If he was going down then he was going to take every one of his brothers down with him. “I wasn’t going to act on it! It was a spur of the moment-why are you laughing!”

“Sorry, sorry.” You wipe at the tears in your eyes wishing you had your phone to take a picture of his blushing face. “I kind of figured you did.”

Satan looks at you incredulously. “Shouldn’t you be a bit more torn up over this?”

You shrug. “After everything we’ve been through? I admit it was a shock to think at first but I mean, you would have done it by now right?”

“Well, thank you?” He flops back on the couch, still clutching the pillow to act as a barrier between you two. He’ll take it as a compliment.

You scoot close, nudging his knee with yours. “You ok?” He nods. “Can I touch you?” He nods again eagerly. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and squeeze. “Sorry, I made you uncomfortable.”

Satan chuckled, dropping the pillow to hug you back. “It’s ok.” He peaks your forehead. “Now, with that out of the way. Shall we finish this?” He swipes up his phone to hit play. You nod, flinging your legs over him to snuggle closer. “Good, I’m dying to know how he tries to save that thing. I’m putting money on icing.”

“You know.” You break the silence once more, unable to stop yourself. “I wouldn’t be opposed to being eaten...in some ways.”

Belphegor

After your first *ahem* encounter, he doesn’t bring up the whole food thing. He is afraid that if you learned about it, it would be the last strike for you and his relationship. Perhaps it’s paranoia on his part but better safe than sorry.

In all honesty, he didn’t eat it that much anyway. Killing humans was something he did often in his youth as a demon. A stupid attempt at revenge on his part. It filled the holes in his hearts to hurt those he believed killed his sister.

But to eat their flesh? Disgusting. He tried it a few times and it turned his stomach with every mouthful. He just hated them too much to even stomach them. He’s mellowed out with time but still never got a taste for it.

When you asked it was a shock but welcomed in a way. Like he could finally get this weight off his shoulders every time he looked at you.

Mini Fic

“It’s gross.” Belphie yawns, jumping up to sit on the high garden wall. He bends down to help you up placing you gently next to himself. The wind catches you by surprise threatening to topple you back from the wall before he rights you. He tosses his sweater over you with a nod of satisfaction.

You snuggle into the fleece lining burying your nose into the fabric. It smelled of elderberries and honeysuckles. Belphie watches you curl up into his side with a fond smile. “Seriously, you all are nasty.”

“Ouch!” You push his shoulder with a grin. “I feel like I should be offended on behalf of all humans.”

Belphie snorts, looking up into the bright colors of the night sky. “Good. Be offended. You, humans, are slimy.” You squawk indignantly. “It’s true, never in all my years would I willingly ingest it.” He shudders theatrically.

“Rude.”

“Shouldn’t you be happy? Lest I eat you?” He growls playfully, taking a swipe at you. He pulls you close to kiss the pout off your face. He stops only when your face is hot and your smile threatens to pull a muscle. “I’ll keep you safe, always.” He vows resting his chin on your head.

“Do you think other demons would try to eat me?”

“Have you met my twin?” He teases. He takes your jab to his ribs with a smile. “But if one of those lesser demons even tries to breathe in your direction I’ll kill them.”

“Ok, Mister sleeps till dinner.” You joke. His vow warms your heart a little, chasing away the small bit of fear that had rested itself in your chest. You saw how some demons looked at you at R.A.D, the longing and hungry looks got to be a bit much sometimes. A few older demons would discuss it loudly when they knew you were close by. Apparently, it was a long standing tradition of demons eating humans both body and soul when a pact was concluded.

Imagine what those brothers would do to them…

You shake your head hugging Belphie closer. You had nothing but his word that he would keep you safe, yet that was enough for you. Besides, he wasn’t one to follow the rules even at the best of times.

“I’m serious. You're off limits for everyone.”

You nod into his shirt, closing your eyes to enjoy the peace of the moment. “I’ll hold you to it.”

Diavolo

It is so far from his mind that when you say something it is like a rug was taken out from under him. He could be diplomatic about it, but you deserve better than a half-truth.

He was a wild child in his youth. Sometimes he would overindulge in his father’s heritage and gorge himself on his newfound powers and privilege. He would dine with the elders and eat with abandon under their proud eyes.

He regrets it now, in your company it brings up a slurry of emotions. Sometimes when he looks at you he sees flashes of his past behavior.

The urge is stronger in him than the brothers, a constant nagging tug in his guts, but he is strong. Stronger both in willpower and sheer physical prowess than them so the pull is more of an annoyance than a burning need. He can temper the hunger in other ways if need be *wink*

He fears what you might think of him if you ever found out the truth, but however you take it he will handle it in stride. He loves you too much not to.

Mini Fic

Dinners, when Diavolo could eat alone, were a rare and special treat. The solace of just being allowed to exist without constantly checking his posture or presentation was a blessing, just him, his thoughts, and a good meal. It was nice to have no paperwork to worry about staining this time or a tedious meeting where he couldn’t savor his meal. No, no this was good. He looks down at his heavily laden plate and smiles. Well, almost… Pulling out his phone he snaps a quick picture and sends it to you with a simple question. Join me?

Private meals were wonderful, but with you, they were perfect.

You arrive faster than he expected, flushed face and clutching a stitch in your side from rushing over. He almost felt bad before he saw the eager look in your eyes. Barbatos helps you with your school bags and coat before placing another plate of food across from the young lord. He winks at the prince before disappearing back through the door.

“Thank you for the invite!” You beam taking your seat across from him. “I hope you don’t mind that I'm not dressed for the occasion. I was just wrapping up a study session with the boys.” You look down at your rumpled lounge clothes.

Diavolo waved his hand disregarding your concerns. “I would emulate you if I had the time.” He looks at his own pressed school uniform. He had another meeting this evening, much to his distaste. “You look rather comfortable.” You smile in delight before tucking into your own plate.

You eat in a comfortable silence reading the room well enough to tell that he wished for some company but not needless chitter-chatter. Barbatos arrived moments after you put your fork down and left with the plate leaving behind a delicious smelling hot drink. You couldn’t put your finger on the flavor but it tastes spicy like cinnamon and coats your throat like warm honey.

Whatever was in the drink seemed to work some magic on the prince. His shoulder droop, his back sinking into the chair as his legs stretch out till they are close to brushing against yours. He starts talking over the drink, eyes slowly lighting up with delight. You drink, nodding along with him as he builds up steam. It was nice to see him so unguarded and light. You listen to him talk about simple innocent topics. You knew how he tried to have these conversations with the others to no avail. The brother’s always tried to stay clear of him, and Lucifer simply dismissed these things most days. Barbatos and the angels were a bit better but still listened mostly to placate him.

“Ah!” Diavolo stops mid-sentence as his door opens once more Barbatos holding a small platter in his gloved hand. Dia claps his hands in delight. “I’ve been wanting to have you try this with me for forever. The human palate is so different, but I hope this is tasty.”

“What is it?” You eye the covered plate curiously.

Dia says a word in infernal. It is harsh and guttural in his throat but his delight was evident in his tone. “It is like...a roasted nut? Sorry, it is difficult to explain but it has been a favorite treat of mine since I was a boy. I hope you like it too.” He opens the lid with little ceremony and tilts the bowl to you. Inside were several golfball sized pods piled on top of each other. Even from across the table you could feel the molten heat radiating from the porous black shell. It looked...ugly. Like a hunk of dried lava. You eye it suspiciously as Diavolo picks one up with his bare hands and bits it. The shell cracks under his sharp teeth, a fang catching in a weak spot with a noise that makes you shiver. Underneath the thick casing, you could see a dark red and fleshy core. He hums in delight pulling put the meat of the seed and discard the shell pieces onto an empty plate. He makes quick work of the innards already reaching for another by the time you casually pick up a seed.

The seed itself was dense and warm to the touch. You squeeze it, noting that the porous coating felt like a mass of steel in your hand. “Dia-how do I open it?” No way you could bite it, not without breaking your jaw in the process.

“Allow me.” He takes it from you and effortlessly cracks it. “It is a tradition to break them with teeth, instead of hands or utensils. Something about a show of strength. I just find it fun.” He shrugs, handing you the broken seed.

“Fun!” You marvel at his pearly fangs. “Those are some big chompers.”

“All the better to eat you with my dear.” He chuckles.

You blink in shock, eyes widening. “Would you? Eat me?”

Diavolo’s smile drops. “No.” He lies on reflex, his political nature kicking in. “No-no wait.” He shakes his head. “I...at a time would have without hesitation.” He feels you recoil. “It was common practice back in the day. To the common demon it was a great meal and for the ruling class a show. He looks down at the broken fragments of shell on his plate. Breaking the shell was far too reminiscent of other things. He squashes the unwanted wave of memories coming up. Instead, he looks up at you.

You sit quietly mulling over his words. You haven’t run yet. “Why did you stop?”

He leans back with a loud exhale. Why did he stop? There were many reasons, none he wished to divulge into at the moment, but he had to say something. “I grew up, and began to resent and regret it.” He used to read human stories of demons and his kind. They hurt their characterizations of him and his people. Yet, they had all been scarily accurate. He wanted to prove that they weren’t stagnating beasts, slaves to their desires. Even if it wasn't a popular opinion.

“I see.” You pick up the seed again. “Thank you for telling me. You didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted to, and to apologize… such admissions must have ruined your appetite. If you wish to retire-”

“Is it weird if it didn’t?” You cut him off. You felt-not apathetic to the knowledge but close to it. It confirmed a lot of things for you and put certain things in perspective. You still felt safe with him even with this new bit of knowledge. Without a second thought, you pop the treat into your mouth. You gasp in delight. The flavor and texture were not what you were expecting, but was delicious all the same. “Can you open another for me?” You push your plate over to him.

“Of course!”

The food was as wonderful as his company.

Barbatos

You knew he cooked it. He probably knows a million different ways to prepare a human. He is also very blunt about his dabblings in the market.

He doesn’t eat it, hasn’t ever. He sees no reason to, especially since he doesn’t need to eat anyway there is no temptation. He did find the meals he created beautiful though.

Once he lived for the praises of the courts and his young lord. He was a master at all mediums he cared to work with. Time, decorum, or of the flesh.

He is 100% unashamed of his past with the dark side of the Devildom’s history. In fact, he is damn near proud of it. He is a demon and it was a part of his life, if that frightens you, well there is nothing he can do about it.

He’ll entertain your questions and will try to put any lingering worries at ease. Just don’t expect to be coddled when he does.

Mini Fic

Barbatos had very few personal pleasures in his life. His schedule simply didn’t have the space for such things. So why even bother looking for a pastime. It wasn’t until Diavolo gifted him with an old worn cookbook did he find it.

Cooking was a necessity for his prince, but with that little book, it became something he looked forward to doing. Slowly, he began to seek them out, filling his growing quarters with cookbooks and loose-leaf slips of paper. He enjoys reading them. Each book was a little time capsule into the cook's life and memories. Could a mix of spices really remind someone of the arid heat of their motherland? Or does following a certain way of aging meat really honor the writer's late grandfather’s memory? He tries them all, each recipe a little invasion to a happier time.

He wrote his fair share of cookbooks too in his day. Simple modifications to things the young lord liked to the odd machinations of his own imagination. He got good at experimenting with flavors and textures over the years, mastering certain cooking techniques and flavors just for fun. He didn’t share many of them, a lot of his recipes were just too complicated for most. Luke was allowed to look at his pastry books only. The little cherub was enamored with his techniques and wanted to learn as much as he could in the short amount of time he was in the Devildom. Admirable, but he made sure to keep some of his...less savory books away from the boy. He shudders to think what Simeon would do if he scarred the young angel.

You are the only one who has full access to his collections. Whether you liked to cook was inconsequential to him. He simply enjoyed sharing this interest with you. Some nights you would take it upon yourself to be his “sous-chef”. Which meant you sat in the corner of the kitchen and read out the ingredients and steps for a recipe he knew by heart. Sometimes you would add in extra steps in an attempt to stump it. Cute...but ultimately failed each time. So, most nights when you tagged along to the kitchens you just flip through his collection, reading his immaculate scribblings crammed into the corners of the pages or where he scratched out certain ingredients for more demon-appropriate foods and more sustainable options.

You had gone through many beautiful books before you found it. The cookbook was small and inconspicuous compared to most. Just a simple black cover with a well-worn spine. What made you take notice of it was just how dusty it was. That wasn’t like him to do. Barbatos would never let something get so dirty. You wished you never had opened it. You weren’t stupid by any means, but after reading a few pretty graphic recipes it had unsettled you. So you withdrew from Barbatos trying to forget about the book tucked away deep in the bowels of your school bag.

“You’ve been distant.” You choke, hand flying up to your chest as you swear your heart skipped a beat. Damn demon. Should put a bell on him. “What’s wrong?” His eyes are piercing, cutting away at your feeble defenses.

“Nothing…” You fiddle with your bag’s strap. Your eyes drop to the floor taking in the differences between his polished shoes and your scuffed boots.

“Of course not…” You could hear the skepticism in his voice. “I trust that if there was something wrong you would feel safe enough to confide in me.” His words hit like a ton of bricks on your shoulders. He sighs seeing that his words got no reaction. “Please?”

Wordlessly you rummage in your bag and thrust the book into his chest. “Sorry. It shook me up more than I thought it would.”

Ah. He knew this book all too well. For a time it had been his favorite, one to pull out with Diavolo had guests or a deal that needed to be sealed. He accepts the book, noting how much your hands shook. “I understand.” He slips the book into his breast pocket making a mental note to hide it in one of his lesser used rooms. “Would you like to discuss this? In my room perhaps?” You follow with a timid nod.

“Where shall we begin?” Barbatos asks the moment he closes the door to his room.

“You don’t seem perturbed.” You frown. Barbatos shrugs, pulling the book out and opening it. He had a lot of good memories stored here. Some of these were still considered signature dishes, oftentimes a visiting dignitary would lament to him about the good old days when he could show off his craft when flesh was plentiful. He takes pride in that still to this day even. For as much as he loved you, he would not be ashamed of this.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You shake your head when he says as much. “It just confused me. Do-do you see me as food?”

“I never saw humans as food, no more than I see demons or angels as it.” He picks at an imaginary bit of lent from his pant leg. “As for seeing you as food no. No matter how sweet your lips are, or how honeyed your words can be.” He smiles, taking impish delight in your squirming. “I merely did my job as a butler for my lord.”

“Oh- sorry for not coming to you sooner.” You felt foolish now. Barbatos waves it off, pleased to have this issue put aside so quickly and cleanly. “Wait-" You gasp as his words finally sink in. “Have you prepared angels before?”

He flashes you a mischievous smile putting a single finger up to his lips. “Perhaps~ do you wish to read that too?”