#I was standing in the front and I didn’t catch a die bc I’m a very obviously nervous person

[rooolt]

So I was gonna make a post abt how funny naddpod Philly show was or maybe how nice the venue was, tell you guys all about Pendergreens broken ass, but now I can’t. All I can think about is

AUTISM WIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[aemondapologistfrfr]

His Princess - Pt7

fancast!bloody ben x targ!fem!reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Summary: The battle continues at Kings Landing as the dance begins in Harrenhal. When everything seems overwhelming there is a break on the horizon. Rhaenyra sends Y/n and Ben back to Harrenhal after they take Kings Landing to see the outcome. 

Warnings: 18+ battle/war, blades, blood, death, swearing, my version of the battle above gods eye(spoiler for the show bc it’s fr and it’s not cute) - mc but cannon death, beheading, alys spreading info like the gossip she is, after war and gossip oral(f receiving), fingering

Authors Note: hopefully the switching of the povs offers what I wanted it to!!!!, hate cole but i can’t deny he’s a good swordsman and would need at least two ppl to take him in a fight, i tried to keep gods eye minimal bc i can’t stand dragons fighting!!!, also daeron is not apart of this story bc i didn’t want another dragon to be hurt!

Word Count: 5.5k almost half of this is war

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

Y/n Pov:

“Find him,” I sob to Vermithor and his growls shake the walls around the city as Silverwing and I give out an earth shattering cry as we circle the host raining fire upon the Greens. 

Vermithor gives out a bone chilling roar and sprays fire along the Gods gate. I’m turning my head searching for any sign of Ben as Silverwing follows close to Vermithor. I take notice of Vermithors wound but it’s more of just a scratch and the bleeding has already ceased much to my relief. My adrenaline rises to match my fear as my heart pounds wildly in my chest as we continue our search for Ben. 

Vermithor circles around where I last saw Ben and begins to fly down to the ground. He sprays the ground in dragon flame before he lands on the burning men as Silverwing lands us in the center of the fire next to him. The warmth licks at my armor as I watch the flames die around me. As the haze clears I see Ben cutting down men around him in a frenzy. 

I sob in relief as I see him still in one piece and quickly slide off of Silverwing. I slip the sword from my back and go to Ben’s side. My blade becomes an extension of myself as my body goes into a killing calm. Everything around me fades away as I face man after man. As I turn to my next victim I can see the burnt scorpion behind the host. 

Cole emerges from the ruins and bodies offering me a bloody smile. Our dragons step closer to me and bare their teeth. Their low growls and chuffs vibrate the ground beneath us. Ben turns to me and sees Cole walking over to me and quickly makes it to my side. 

“You need two dragons and a whores daughter to stand against me?” Cole laughs to Ben bitterly spitting.

“You will still die in the end.” I hum raising my sword.

“We shall see.” he charges forward with his blade in front of him and I quickly fold backwards to avoid his swing. 

Ben comes from behind and strikes with his sword and Cole barely avoids the metal. I rise once again and try to catch Cole from behind but he is quick on his feet. The three of us dance with our blades as the war continues to wage around us. My nerves start to rise as I see our host getting overwhelmed as both of our dragons are grounded with us for the moment. 

This moment of thought has costed me dearly. Pain washes through the side of my face as blood trickles down my neck as Coles sword slices my flesh. I give out a loud cry and Silverwing screams with me. 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

Harrenhal Pov:

The clouds hang low in the sky as the smell of rain on the horizon washes over the ruined castle. The sky is preparing to weep for the dance that will soon take place. Fog begins to roll in from the forest line casting everything in a gray light.  

“You will die here today.” Alys appears through the foggy gates walking to Daemon and Caraxes.

“As long as I take Aemond with me, I care not.” Daemon pulls his helm on and makes sure everything is secure.

“So eager to die before you meet your grandchild?” Alys tilts her head with a small smile.

“They’ll be better off without me.” he mounts Caraxes and shoots into the sky. 

Daemon has had enough of Alys’ mind games and doesn’t even bat an eye at the insinuation of having grandchildren. He never saw himself living long enough to see his children or wife contented. He knows this is the last thing he will be able to give them and he hopes it’s enough to change the tides of the war. 

Daemon circles around Harrenhal keeping his eyes peeled for Vhagar and her one eyed rider. He’s growing impatient but he can feel the promise of death in the air. Caraxes perches on one of the towers as they await their fate. A low grumble comes from the distance and Vhagar comes into view from the clouds. 

Daemon shoots into the sky and lures them away from the castle. He doesn’t much care for this castle but he knows many Lords will ask Rhaenyra for it so it must remain standing. He leads Aemond over the body of water called Gods Eye.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

Y/n Pov:

As I rise to my feet Ben is relentlessly bashing his sword into Coles. The metal song promises death. I try to find an opening to help Ben once more but he has a glazed look over his eyes as he slams repeatedly into Cole. I watch on in shock as I’ve never seen Ben fight like this. Some of his men stop and watch on as this one on one continues. 

Our dragons grumble as some of Coles men stand and watch. It seems as if this part of the wall is on a pause as they wait to see what happens. I rip a piece of my shirt off from under my armor and wipe off the side of my face. The cut seems to start just under my eye and travels down to my jaw. The dirtied cloth stings but it helps staunch the blood. Ben lets out a mighty roar and swings his long sword and I gasp with widened eyes.

“Your Kingmaker.” Ben yells as he raises Coles head into the air. 

He dips down and grabs Coles foot and drags it to Vermithor who grabs his leg in his claws. He returns to me still gripping Coles head in his hands and I look to him as he’s breathing heavily. He turns my face and looks at my cut as his nostrils flare.

“I’m sorry.” he whispers as the men begin to look around unsure if we’re to keep fighting. “To Silverwing.” he nods his head and begins to usher me over before he goes to mount Vermithor. 

Vermithor and Silverwing shoot to the skies and give out victorious growls. I look down at Vermithors claws as Coles headless body is being paraded through the air. He slides low to the Green host and they falter as they take on the body hanging above them. 

“Your Kingmaker is dead and your King dies at Harrenhal.” Ben proclaims as we fly along the walls. 

A loud grumble comes from the clouds and my heart stops as I see a large shadow approaching. As the dragon comes into view I squint my eyes trying to figure out who it is. It’s not Vhagar or any other I’ve ever seen. Silverwing chirps and flies to meet the new dragon. I shake my head thinking I must be delusional from blood loss as I spot Rhaena atop this dragon. 

“I figured I would help in the war!” Rhaena calls out as her dragon gives out a fierce cry and I look below as a sob rips through me as I see a grand host from the Vale and the North seeping through the tree lines running to meet the Greens host.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

Harrenhal Pov:

Caraxes and Vhagar circle each other around the body of water and give out low grumbles. The sky begins to cry as the dragons close in on one another. The Blood Wyrm quickly twists around the old fossil as she barely turns in time for the first snap of teeth. Vhagar gives out a loud cry as Caraxes sinks his teeth into her neck. 

Vhagar pulls away from Caraxes and breathes fire upon him and Daemon. Daemon flies through the flame and straight for Vhagars rider. Aemond dips, narrowly avoiding Caraxes maw. They pull back from one another and the dragons circle above the water once more.

“You have lived long enough,” Aemond calls across the skies to Daemon. 

“Something we agree upon,” Daemon chuckles as he begins to unclip from Caraxes. 

The world seems to hold its breath as Daemon unsheathes Dark Sister and points to Aemond and Vhagar. Caraxes flies quick and hard latching onto Vhagar. Daemon jumps from his dragon to Aemond landing on Vhagars head. He sprints down on uneven feet as Aemond struggles to get his weapon or unclip from his saddle. 

“For my Queen,” Daemon roars as he pierces Dark Sisters through Aemonds one eye before everything goes black.

The dragon’s give out a cry and spiral down to the water. The impact could be felt well over a hundred miles. Blood rain falls from the sky as the false King and the Rogue Prince implode to their watery grave. 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

3rd person Rhaenyra Pov: 

Addam has been sent to recruit the small folk and hand out armor and weapons for those willing and able. Rhaenyra has slipped into the castle through the tunnels and has made quick work of finding her loyalists. She makes it to the throne room and lets out a breathy laugh. Alicent and Helaena are brought in and kneel before her. 

“Rhaenyra please,” Alicent pleads from her knees as Rhaenyra holds a blade to her throat. 

“You brought this upon yourself.” she looks down to Alicent with contempt. 

“The Kings are dead.” Helaena speaks softly from her place next to Alicent. 

“Which ones?” Rhaenyra turns her head to Helaena lowering the blade from Alicents throat. 

“All of them.” Helaena shakes her head and Rhaenyras blade falls out of her hand. 

“Ring the bells to let-“ 

“Your Grace, another dragon and a host.” Addam bursts through the throne room doors breathing heavily.

“Who?” Rhaenyra looks at him confused. 

“They say Rhaena with a host from the Vale and North.” Addam takes in the scene before him. 

“She’s done it.” Rhaenyra smiles breathing out a sigh of triumph and relief.

“They also say that Ben and Vermithor are flying around Coles headless body above the host. He carries his head on his back.” Alicent lets out a soft sob at his words. 

“Your son’s are dead. Your Kingmaker has been beheaded. You are surrounded. Ring the bells and save your remaining men.” Rhaenyra looks down to Alicent. 

“The common folk will remember this destruction.” Alicent narrows her eyes at Rhaenyra. 

“They fight your host from within the walls. You have lost.” Rhaenyra tugs Alicent up harshly and begins to bring her to the bell tower. 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

Y/n Pov: 

My head cranes to the city as the bells begin to toll. All of the dragons surround the city and  give out one last cry before they start to the Keep. As we look down the fighting is slowing and swords are being lowered. I’m in awe as we fly through the city at the amount of small folk that are pushing the Greens out of the gates. 

Baela and Jace come into view and tears start sliding down my face as I see them unscathed and safe. Rhaena comes from behind the Keep with Addam trailing close behind her. Our dragons follow Syraxs call and we land perched on the main gates. 

We all dismount and make it down to the main courtyard. We all look to each other and my siblings take in mine and Ben’s appearance. Their eyebrows furrow as they see my cut and look to our blood and dirt covered bodies. I turn to Ben and see Cole’s head bouncing against his back as he approaches me. Vermithor lets out a low growl and flings Cole’s body to the center of the yard. 

“I see burning people wasn’t enough for you both.” Jaces voice drowns out as me and Ben look to each other. 

“Let’s find a witch to bring him back. I want to kill him slower.” his voice rough as he tilts my chin to look at my cut. 

“I’m okay.” I look up to him taking in the death that remains in his eyes. 

“We will find you a maester at once.” he pulls me with him into the castle. 

“Where are you two going?” Baela yells after us. 

I tug him to the throne room thankful he doesn’t know where the maesters chambers are. I must see my mother. I need to know who rang those bells and what it means. As the doors groan under my hands I behold my mother atop the throne with her crown on her brow. 

“Daughter,” Rhaenyra rises taking in my state. “My children,” her voice wavers as the rest of my siblings trail in behind me and Ben. 

“My Queen,” I bow. 

“Call for a maester,” Rhaenyra flicks her head to Jace and he’s out in the hall shouting in seconds. 

I huff as he brings in a maester who sits me on a chair and begins to clean my wound. Ben holds my hand as the maester beings to stitch up my cheek. Rhaenyra is lowly talking to my siblings about how their plans went and she finally turns to me and Ben. 

“I wish to see the head.” Rhaenyras voice travels through the hall. 

“The rest of him is in the courtyard.” Ben rises from my side and pulls the head from his back. He offers her the head holding it by his hair. 

“You’ve done me a great service, Benjicot.” she shakes her head at a loss for words. “What happened to your cheek?” Rhaenyra turns her attention to me. 

“Cole.” I say trying to steady my breathing as the maester pulls the thread in and out of my flesh for his last stitch.

“You fool,” she shakes her head before she leans down and engulfs me in a hug before she turns back to the group of us.

“We’ve done it, gather the remaining Lords so we may start about clearing out the traitors and moving forward.” she turns and nods her head to us. “Ben, Y/n,” she stops us before we exit.

“Yes?” we turn back to her. 

“I have one more immeasurable favor to ask of you both.” she whispers down to us. 

“Say it and it will be done.” I look to her with tired eyes but ready to do what she needs. 

“Go to Harrenhal and see what remains.” her voice barely a murmur as her eyes begin to tear. 

“We will go at once,” I nod my head. 

She walks out of the Keep with us as we take in the dragons and the wall crumbling under their claws. Her head snaps to the rest of Coles body that remains in the center of the courtyard. From beyond the gates we hear shouts and cries of agony from the people who were not as lucky. 

“Fly safe and stay together.” she pulls me and Ben into a tight hug. “Please return to me.” her voice a whisper as she looks to both of us. 

Ben turns to me and we finally have a moment alone to ourselves. I look into his eyes and he seems to be coming down from his adrenaline still. I wrap my arms around him and he holds me tightly against him. I care not of our blood and dirt and pull his lips to mine feverishly.

“I want you to fly with me and Vermithor,” he looks down to me separating our lips. 

“Ben, I’m fine,” I sigh looking up to him.

“I know, but I just want you by me.” his hold on me tightens.

“Then ask Silverwing,” I relent and he pulls away to turn to my dragon as I walk to his.

“You flew valiantly today, my beautiful Silverwing. Will you allow Y/n to fly with me and Vermithor on our next journey?” I turn from Verithors neck and see Silverwing nudge into Ben before he starts towards me.

“Up you go.” he softly tugs me towards his wings and I begin my climb. We quickly settle and take flight. Silverwing flies next to us and they both give out a victorious song to the men below before we coast out on the horizon.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

As we enter the Riverlands we can feel the great loss in the air. The clouds weep, cleaning off some of our blood and dirt as we make our way to the ruined castle. Our dragons give out low grumbles as we approach Harrenhal and begin to make our descent outside the main gates. 

Ben helps me off refusing to let me do anything on my own. He has a hand pressed against me at all times and grabs my hand for his own once we make it the ground. The heaviness in the air is unsettling while the wind sings an eerie song. 

The castle grounds are silent. We saw no dragons on approach and hear nothing as we look around for any sign of a threat. As we turn my heart goes to my throat as Alys appears. 

“Where are they?” I ask pulling the bone knife from its sheath and pointing it at her. 

“I would think you wouldn’t be so quick to show your child more death and violence. Though, you are your father’s child..” she trails off with a smile. 

“My child?” my eyebrows furrow as I raise the knife even higher. 

“The one you’ve been carrying for a moon now.” she nods to me and looks to Ben. I bring my free hand to my abdomen and try to think of any signs that her words are true. “I may have played mind games with your father but I can’t slip through your bond with the child’s father. He’s very protective.” she chuckles to Ben who is now trying to push me behind him. 

“Where is my father?” my voice wavers as my mind already knows the answer. 

“You’ll find him under the Gods Eye.” her skirts swish as she disappears behind the walls once more. 

“Stay with the dragons and I will go.” he looks down to me intensely. 

“You will not start with this overprotective male dominance now.” I huff as I try to walk past him but he grabs my arm to stop me. 

“Y/n,” he looks to me with pleading eyes as his hand travels to my lower abdomen. 

“After I find my father,” I shake my head and pull him along with me. 

We walk silently to the body of water just beyond the crumbling fortress. Our dragons follow behind us the ground shaking at their heavy steps. As we approach my breath catches taking in the blood splattered around the shores. 

Pieces of the once great dragons are jutting through the surface of the water. I can tell it’s both dragons by their coloring and a sob bubbles out of my mouth. My hand slips from Ben’s as I fall to my knees on the shore looking on at the still water. He kneels next to me and hugs me tightly. 

“I have to go find him.” I shake my head as tears begin to slip down my cheeks. 

I rise and start to walk into the once clear water that seems to now be stained a blush pink. Water licks at my thighs until I begin to start my swim. I swim around the masses in the water until I spot Caraxes. As I dip my head under the water to look for him my stitched cut screams in agony. 

I pull up for breath and begin to move around to see if I can find him anywhere else. I’ve been searching around Caraxes and have found nothing so I relent and begin my search around Vhagar. Ben shouts at me from the shore but I can’t abandon this search. 

As I dip down under the surface again my eyes blurry I spot Aemond in Vhagars saddle. I slip above the water to take in a deep breath before I dive down. My eyes bulge as I take in Dark Sister pierced through his remaining eye. I quickly scan the area and my remaining air bubbles out of my mouth as I see Daemon resting on the rocky bottom. I swim to the top and let out a loud sob. 

“Ben, I need you,” I cry and he’s running into the water and at my side in seconds. 

We swim below the surface and I rip Dark Sister from Aemonds head as Ben begins to lift and pull Daemons body to the surface. I grab on and help him carry him to shore. As we finally make it to the sands I sit silently looking down at his blade. 

“I-“ I shake my head as tears begin falling down my face. 

I let out a grief stricken scream and Silverwing quickly approaches the shores and curls near me. Ben holds me to him as my sobs continue to wreck me. My breathing finally settles and he looks up to me with sad eyes while wiping them away with his thumbs. 

“We need to prepare his body to bring back home.” I sniffle before getting to my feet.

“I’ll go see if there’s a maester or someone,” Ben rises wiping the sand off of him. 

“I told him he would die here.” Alys comes from the other side of the shore. 

“Are you just here to mock me and speak in riddles?” I yell exasperated. 

“I’ve brought this for your cheek. It’ll heal it better than those stitches.” she offers me a cup and I look at the foul smelling paste. “I’m also the only maester, if that’s what you want to call me, and I can prepare his body for your travels.” she offers and I cant tell if she’s sincere or not so I turn to Ben hoping he will deal with this situation for me. 

“What is this paste?” he grabs the cup from my hands. 

“Your dragons wouldn’t allow me to poison the mother of your child. Use it or don’t.” she chuckles turning her head to look at our dragons. 

“I want his body treated with respect. Bound and wrapped tastefully befitting a King. All of his armor is to be cleaned and properly packed so we may travel with ease. We will take our old chambers while you finish your work.” Ben pulls me to his side as we begin to walk to the castle once more. 

Our feet drag up the stairs as we stop in front of familiar doors. Ben pushes them open and escorts me to a chair to sit down. I place Dark Sister next to me and let out a shaky sigh. He kneels in front of me and locks his eyes with mine. 

“I’m sorry,” his words soft as he places the cup with the paste next to me and grabs my hands. 

“I had hoped he would make it.” tears still slide down my cheeks as he pulls me down into a hug.

“It seems as if Alys made you a bath. Let me clean you and help you relax.” he hums standing with me. 

He walks me to the bath and begins to remove my stained armor. I peel off my clothes as he starts to take off his armor. When he removes his shirt I can see small cuts littering his skin and I look at him with sad but thankful eyes that he’s still with me. He helps me slide into the bath and takes a seat next to me. 

The warm water lulls my muscles and I lean back resting my head on the lip of the small pool. I feel the water shift and he starts to undo my braids releasing their tension. I sigh in relief and allow my eyes to drift shut. He brings a cloth and soap to begin wiping my skin as I relax further into the water. 

“Do you want to try her paste?” his voice soft as I crack an eye open. 

“Sure, if anything bad happens Silverwing will eat her.” I shrug as he rises out of the bath. 

“I will kill her myself if she causes harm to you.” his voice trails to me from the couch before he returns. 

He applies a generous amount of paste to his fingers and brings his free hand to my jaw to tilt my head. I look up to him expectantly as he lowers his fingers to my cheek. I wince as the cold paste slides down my face and a shiver travels my spine as I feel the wound dispelling the stitches and doing its own work. 

“It’s healed.” his words almost a question as he tilts my head. He brings his hand up and shows me the black thread that was once holding my cheek. “That means she wasn’t lying.” his hand slides from my chin and he places it on my stomach. 

“Ben,” his name falls from my mouth as I allow myself to finally think about Alys’ words and the life growing inside me. 

“The mother of my children, my Princess, my wife.” his words filled with devotion as his lips softly press against mine. 

I let his lips wash away the day and all that’s come with it. His hand resting on my lower abdomen slides a little lower and I moan into his mouth as he circles my clit. His lips kiss down my now healed cheek and licks around my pulse. 

“I can’t wait to see you growing with our child.” he whispers in my ear as he dips his fingers into my core. “You’re gunna be even more beautiful.” I rest my head on his shoulder as my hips grind into his hand as my pleasure is already washing through me from my heightened emotions.

“Come let’s get you into bed while I find you some clothes. I’m sure we’ve left some behind.” he helps me out of the tub and walks me over to the bed always keeping a hand placed on me. 

“Ben I’m not going to break, I just fought alongside you in a war.” I huff but still allowing him to pull the covers over my body. 

“Do not remind me.” his rage seeps off of him. 

“Don’t work yourself up again.” I roll my eyes chuckling. “Come to bed, let’s forget today for a little while.” I pout my lips trying to pull him in with me. 

“I must find you clothes and food and a drink. Is there anything else?” he rambles as he begins walking to the doors. 

“Maybe some clothes for yourself? I know Harrenhal is empty but I don’t think the ghosts want you walking around nude.” I shake my head smiling. 

He pulls open the wardrobe and quickly slides on some pants and continues to rifle through what we’ve left. He pulls out wrinkled shirt next and shrugs before putting it on. He finds the shortest slip that’s been made in all of the seven kingdoms apparently and tosses it to me on the bed. 

“Now you have clothes.” he nods to himself before slipping out the door. I sigh and slip the piece of fabric on nonetheless. I pull the blankets closer and allow my eyes to rest while he’s off on his hunt. 

“I found some meat and cake and that’s about it.” Ben pushes the doors open jolting me awake. “And water. I’ve also spoken with Alys.” I stretch out wiping my eyes. 

“Pray tell what more Alys had to say.” I sigh as I hold my hands out expectantly for my water. 

“Just that she’ll have everything prepared for us by the morning. I’ve sent a raven to  Rhaenrya telling her that we will return tomorrow.” he hands me my glass of water and sits on the bed next to me with the tray of food. 

“You didn’t deliver the news of Daemon in that letter, did you?” I pull the cup from my lips. 

“No, she needs to see for herself.” he shakes his head. He starts to cut up the meat on the tray and goes to feed it to me. 

“Benjicot Blackwood,” I scold. “What happened to the man who made me and Silverwing hunt for him and his dragon?” I raise my eyebrows as a smile plays on my lips. 

“Shh, I’ll be the man now.” he tries to hide his smile as I accept the meat from the fork. 

“Then that means no more jumping off of Vermithor into the middle of a war.” I narrow my eyes at him as I accept another mouthful. 

“I was wondering when you would yell at me about that.” he says sheepishly. 

“I was so fucking scared. I thought my heart was going to stop. Never do that again.” I furrow my brows. “You did look incredibly fierce doing it though.” I whisper and his eyes snap to mine. 

“Fierce, hm?” he smiles down to me. 

“And fucking stupid.” I push him back as he chuckles. 

“Well let’s hope our child takes after you.” his smile is soft as he sits up. 

“Do you wish for a boy or a girl?” I hum as he starts to feed me cake. 

“I care not.” his smile widens. 

“I hope for a girl, so I think we’ll have a boy.” I chuckle accepting more of the sweet dessert. 

“Then we’ll have as many until we get a girl.” he discards the tray on the ground to bring his full attention to me. 

“We shall see what the Gods grant us.” I hum pulling him into a kiss. “Did you not bring any food for yourself?” I pull back looking to him. 

“I ate as your food was being prepared. I wanted to have a different kind of dessert.” his eyes darken and he crawls over me kissing me once more. 

My thighs spread as he settles between them. He licks and kisses down my neck before circling his tongue over my covered nipples. I whine as he scrapes his teeth around them before snaking his way lower. He places featherlight kisses down my slit as I sigh, bucking my hips to his face. 

His tongue juts out and offers small licks to my sensitive bud as I softly pant above him. His lips encase me while his tongue lashes against me quickly. My hand goes to his hair as I grind against his mouth and chase my pleasure. His other hand interlocks with my free hand as he continues with his tongue. 

“Ben, fuck,” I cry as I arch off the bed. 

He licks down my center and pushes his tongue into me as I gasp trying to catch my breath. He brings his other hand to circle along my bud as his tongue laps at my wetness. I explode across his face and he continues licking to clean me off. I sigh as my body melts into the bed as he comes to lay at my side. 

“What of you?” I say my eyes barely open as I go to reach for his length. 

“I’m okay, my love. Rest.” he grabs my hand and kisses my forehead as I curl into him allowing my mind to forget all of the bad today and only think of the good. 

We’ve taken Kings Landing. My mother sits the throne. My cheek is healed. I have a life growing inside me. I have a man who is absolutely devoted to me at my side awaiting the day we can marry and I can’t wait to marry him. I drift off contented listening to his heartbeat. 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

masterlist 🔌 

Part 8

ik i said 3 more parts 2 parts ago which means only one more after this but that’s just not enough?? and now i want to write abt them being happy and married and with kids wtfff are ppl down for that or do i do a spin off series??? like lmk bc i want more than just an epilogue and a glimpse like no i want to see this man waiting on you hand and foot and being absolutely OBSESSED with you pregnant with his child 

taglist ✍️ 

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @anaviieiraaa @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @zanygot7straykidsbonk

if I missed anyone lmk!

[writingchalamet]

You meet Ross when he's on a brief break from tour, and hit it off straight away. You agree that it's only going to be a bit of fun, nothing serious, just sex and adventures until he has to go away again. Except it doesn't work out like that and by the time he goes away for the second leg, he's really fallen for you. You feel the same but you both stick to the plan, neither of you aware of the other's true feelings. You keep in touch on tour, casual at first but the flirting ramps up and it soon becomes very apparent that you're mad about each. May or not end up with Matty sending you plane tickets 😆

Just a fling

Warnings: smut, swearing, use of good girl bc I can’t help myself! minors DNI

Loud music pumped through the speakers, drinks flowed through your veins, you and your friends laughed and chatted across the table in the bar together, sinking more and more drinks, you were happily buzzed. Ross was on the other side of the bar, sipping on his whiskey, eyes dragging across various faces in the bar as he half listens to what his friends are saying to him. Taking in the space, when his eyes land on you, his eyes narrowed slightly as he stood for a moment just watching you across the room as you laughed with friends, occasionally sipping your drink, eyes eventually leaving the group when you feel a heavy gaze burning into your skin. Your eyes find his and you see a subtle smirk settle on his face, a smirk that almost read ‘you’re mine, if only for tonight.’

You hesitantly return your gaze back to your group of friends having missed what they said “huh?” You draw out, eyes still lingering back and forth between your friends and the tall, dark haired, handsome stranger. “We said it’s your turn to buy a round” one of your friends practically shouts across the table at you, finally regaining your full attention. “Oh, uh, okay, same again for everyone?” They all nod as you grab your bag heading towards the bar, you place your order with the barman and wait patiently, about to turn around to look at your friends when a broad chest blocks your vision. You raise your head to meet the eyeline of the man an entire foot taller than you, to find the same brown eyes you had met across the room moments ago, only now they were right in front of you, and the warm lights of the bar were glistening in his eyes making them shine, and making your heart race. You gasp when you realise how close he is and that he is in fact real, not a figment of your imagination. “Sorry love, didn’t mean to make you jump” his voice is deeper than you had expected, but he smiles and his dimples pop out making your shocked gaze soften. “It’s okay, I just wasn’t expecting anyone to be there, which is silly really because this place is packed…” your voice trails off, eyes leaving his to look at the floor for a moment, out of embarrassment.

“No it’s my fault, I shouldn’t have been standing so close, but you caught my eye earlier and I thought I’d catch you while you’re alone” your eyes widen slightly as he speaks. “Wow didn’t mean for that to come out as predatory as it sounded” he jokes making you laugh, easing the tension, the barman hands over your tray of drinks and your about to pick it up when the kind stranger takes it for you, you give him a strange look but he nods his head for you to follow him. He walks over to your table, your friends all go quiet and stare wide eyed at the incredibly good looking man stood next to you carrying their drinks, he places the tray down and the girls fly to their cocktails like vultures, all needing a drink in their systems for whatever was about to happen next. “Hello ladies, I’m Ross, I was wondering if I could borrow your friend for a little while?” He speaks to them so politely you want to die, the girls all gawk at you until your friend hannah “babe take her, she’s been away with the fairies all night anyway” they laugh and you shake your head whispering a thanks to her as you lean down to grab your drink. Following who you now know to be Ross, across the bar and to an empty table.

“So, you know my name but I’m yet to learn yours, would you enlighten me?” He smirks once more as he sips his drink. You roll your eyes own drink burning down your throat, “Y/n” he smiles and reaches across the table, fingers grazing your knuckles as your hold your glass. “Y/n, beautiful, I like it, it suits you” you feel yourself blushing at his forwardness. “Thank you" you breathe. The night carried on, more questions asked, learning the ins and outs of each other, you learn he's in a band, a successful one, which has you surprised as to what he's doing in a little bar like this, in the middle of nowhere. He learns that you're a writer and write a column reviewing films and Tv series, for a notable news blog. You were both successful in your line of works which was something he liked. He also hated to admit it, but he liked that you didn't immediately know who he was, only recognising him once he told you who his band mates were. "We nearly met once actually" he raises an eyebrow at you as you speak. "I was asked to be one of the journalists reporting at the brits a few years ago, but I had to pass up on the offer" you admit, raising your glass to your lips, as his eyes widen, "and what was more important than a night at the brits?" Ross smirks as he talks, edging himself closer towards you, "I prefer to do my reporting behind my screen, never really been one to get out in front of a camera, besides, couldn't have you fawning all over me when you were supposed be answering questions about your award" You wink a the man, earning a blush and snigger.

You don't know how you ended up here. Back pressed against the elevator wall, as Ross peppered hot, wet kisses along your neck, jaw, biting your earlobe. You're not sure a what point in the night, the soft touches of your hands turned into kisses, but it didn't take much after that for you to get your coat and follow Ross back to his hotel. You hear the ding of the lift doors opening signalling you'd reached his floor, Ross practically dragging you down the hallway, hand struggling to swipe the card through the reader to unlock his door, you stand behind him, hugging him, hands roaming across his chest, dragging them down his front to rest above his belt buckle. You chuckle into his back as you hear him groan tapping recklessly as the door lock trying to get it open. It finally clicks open, Ross turning in your arms, taking you by the waist and pulling you in for a kiss as he pushes through the door.

Hands sliding up his stomach, past his chest to land on his broad shoulders, giving them a squeeze, pulling him closer to you as his lips press firmly against yours, tongue begging for entrance as it glides along your bottom lip, you grant him access, colliding the muscles together, his fingers digging into your waist, bunching your dress up, you moan into his mouth at the feeling of his lips pressing harder against yours, Ross pulls away from you briefly to close the door, backing you up against it again once it's closed. "Do you wanna go over to the bed for me?" Ross lowers his mouth to your ear, lips brushing against the joining of your neck and jaw as he whispers the words to you. You don't trust your voice, settling for a nod of the head, slipping off your heals, making Ross tower over you even more, he can't help himself but raise one of his hands to caress your cheek, leaning down to peck you, the new height difference fuelling something inside him, he felt the need to hold and protect you. You pull apart and walk over to his neatly made bed, feeling bad for the maid who would inevitably have to clean up your mess the next day. You sit down in the middle of the bed, hands pawing at the soft fabric of the duvet beneath you. Ross comes to stand in front of you, kneeling on the, shuffling closer to you, out of instinct your legs parted for him, making him smirk. His rough hands hind their way to either sides of your legs, stopping under your knees, he feels the silky skin of your thighs under his finger tips, running them up and down the length of your bent legs. Your eyes bore into his from your seated position, hands leaving the mattress to find the top button of his dress shirt, beginning to un pop each button, his eyes watch your fingers carefully as they move along each button, slowly and skilfully undoing each one, until you reach the bottom, hands making their way back up his now uncovered stomach, hairy chest, to land on his shoulders, gently pushing the fabric down his back so it hung off him loosely.

You notice the small gold chain that laid flat around his neck, one of your hands reaching round, fingers delicately playing with the metal, you take a hold of it between your fingers and gently tug him towards yourself, stretching your top half up to meet him in a hungry kiss, he moans into your mouth at the feeling of the cold metal digging into his skin, and the way your fingers clench at his shoulder, as if to feel him closer. His grip on the back of your legs tightens, he manoeuvres himself to settle fully between your legs, resting a hand on your back as he pushes the two of you back until you reach the mattress. Your lips moving together in sync, drawing moans and gasps form one another as he pressed you further into the mattress, lowering himself on top of you, your hand reaches behind his head, gripping onto the bun, tugging at the strands, feeling the soft hair wrap around your fingers, and loving the sound the sound that falls from his lips when you deliver a particularly harsh pull. His tongue traces your bottom lip, drawing a line, from your lips and licking down your neck, your head rolls to the side, at the tingly feeling surging through you.

Ross's hands skim over the fabric of your dress, stopping at the bottom, where it had bunched up at your waist, lifting it up further revealing the lace of your underwear, his breath hitching noticing the wet patch gathering, he continues to drag the fabric up, you sitting up to help him rid you of the barrier, he throws the garment to the floor, the second it's off your body, admiring your bare chest, loving the fact you opted out of wearing a bra for the night. Feeling like a teenage boy seeing boobs for the first time, absolutely mesmerised, a hand reaches up to cup your left breast, palming at the soft skin, running his thumb across your nipple, feeling it pebble beneath his touch, he squeezes again earning a breathy moan, and your back arching, practically falling into his hand. His other hand grazes your jaw, thumb running along your bottom lip, watching the way your eyes close briefly in pleasure under his actions. "Does that feel good darlin?" his words come out an octave lower than before, making you putty in his hands (quite literally) "yes" you whisper the words out not trusting your voice. He lays you down once more, leaning forwards sprinkling kisses along your chest, down your abdomen, nipping at your hipbone, and kissing along your inner thigh, placing a kiss to your clothed core, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. He continues kissing over the soft spot, laying his tongue out flat licking up the wetness that had gathered on the front of your underwear, groaning to himself at the taste, his fingers dig into the sides of your knickers dragging them down your legs, revealing perhaps the most obscene view he had ever laid his eyes upon, you laid back, head tilted up to the ceiling, tits perky, back arched up, legs spread and pussy dripping, all for him.

"You look fucking divine darling, tell me what you want" his hands are all over your body, unable to settle on one spot, occasionally squeezing in a spot he finds particularly tantalizing. "You... your fingers, anything I just need to feel you" You grab at one of his hands bringing it to your entrance, watching a sly smile absorb his face as you guide two of his fingers inside you, mouth falling open and whining as he pushes them in fully to his knuckles, hooking them upwards, feeling you tighten around him. He pumps rhythmically, other hand grasping onto your hip, hooking your leg around his waist in his seated position. Your eyes meet, and you swear you could fall apart right there from just the look alone, his big brown eyes boring into yours, scanning your face intently for traces of pleasure, as he works away below you. Your eyes roll back as his actions speed up setting a new thunderous pace, feeling your walls contracting around him each time he thrust his fingers inside you, his thumb reached up and began rubbing circles on your clit, gaining a lewd moan of his name, which he would die to hear again, circling the bud with more ferocity, to match the pace of the fingers inside you, the tense feeling building in the pit of your stomach, begging for release. "Are you gonna cum for me like a good girl?" your nails claw at his wrist, the other hand clinging onto the duvet for dear life. Your head nodding, turning to the side and lulling back all at once, too far gone to comprehend your actions. You feel his fingers hitting and curling upwards one last time sending you spiralling, your legs clench around his waist, walls contracting around his fingers as he continues to pump you through your orgasm, "Ross, need you" you moan out, tugging on his arm until he was close enough to crash his lips back to yours, the connection feeling warm and passionate, he withdraws his fingers from you lifting them between the pair of you, licking one finger himself, slipping the other past your lips, allowing you so suck the juices off from the digit, moaning as your tongue swirls around, keeping heavy eye contact as you suck his digit clean, he pulls his finger from your lips, hand moving around the back of your neck, attaching his lips to yours again.

"Do you wanna carry on?" Ross mumbles against your lips, feeling himself painfully hard in his trousers, "God please don't stop" clutching his shoulders you sit up, flipping the two of you so you were straddling his lap. You wanted to burn this sight into your brain for the rest of your life. His hair messy and falling out of his bun, shirt undone, dick hard in his trousers pressing against you. He raised an arm to lay under his head as he watches you with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. You fingers trace over the top of his trousers, stopping at the button, looking up at him through your lashes to ask permission, his head nods slowly, enjoying the sight of you taking control, knowing fully well he could take it back any moment. You popped the button undone and slid the zipper down, pulling them down slightly, along with his boxers to reveal himself to you. Your mouth watering at the sight of his cock leaking with precum and throbbing in your hand.

You pumped him a few times, listening as his breath goes rigid when you raise yourself upwards, sinking down onto him in one swift motion. His eyes rolling back, large hands making their home on your hips, digging into the skin as you start to bounce up and down on his shaft. He loves every little moan and gasp that leaves your mouth as you fuck you self on him, hands firmly placed on his stomach to balance yourself. “You feel so good Ross” you gasp arching your back, hair cascading down, becoming sticky with sweat. Ross thrusts up inside you, encouraging you to set a faster pace, “come on baby, you can do better than that, I wanna feel you cum for me again, be a good girl” the words are lost to your deaf ears, only caring about the groan that leaves his lips when you fuck yourself even harder on him, pulling him up by his shoulders and finally ridding him of his shirt, your fingers claw at his back as he continues to thrust up into you, you circle your hips, feeling your clit rub against his pubic bone, you continue the action feeling your walls clench and the knot tighten in the pit of your stomach. Ross’s hands trace a pattern up your back, one hand clutching your jaw as he pulls you in for a kiss, wet, sloppy and still tasting the remains of your juices on his tongue. You can’t help but to moan his name over and over into his mouth like a mantra. “I can feel you’re close, let go for me” his words are spoken between broken kisses and hushed moans, feeling you clenching around him.

All you can do is nod, forehead leaning against his as he holds your hips down delivering a particularly harsh thrust, he feels the spasm of your walls crashing around him, and your legs shake as what feels like the most earth shattering orgasm hits your system. “Good girl” he whispers, planting a kiss to the side of your head. Suddenly you’re being flipped again, onto your stomach, ass up in the air and Ross is between your legs once more. You’re not sure you’re ready for what’s to come when you feel him slam his length back inside you. Hand making contact with your right cheek as you pull away slightly, unintentionally awakening something in you, at the all but pornographic moan you emit. Your head flicks back to make eye contact with Ross, who was wearing the most sinister smirk you think you may have ever seen. All at once his hips are roughly pounding into your arse as, hands holding them in place while he fucks you roughly and thoroughly. Your top half falls limp feeling exhausted from exerting yourself as you cling onto the quilt, knuckles turning white. The sound in the room was obscene, anyone walking in the hallway would know what was going on, the bed was rocking, slamming into the wall, Ross was grunting and moaning away above you while you gasped and screamed out his praises, you could only pray that the people in the room next to you were out. His dick pounded into the sweet spongy spot inside you repeatedly building that all familiar knot once more, not sure you could handle much more you cry out for him, eyes watering, pressing the tears away into the pillows. “Ross…please..I” your brain can’t comprehend words too fucked out to form any real sentence. “You can take it, be a good girl, one more, then you’re done okay?” His hand sweetly moved some hair out your face to check you’re okay, a sweet juxtaposition to the actions of his hips pounding away at you. He leant forward placing a kiss at the top of your back as he continued to hit away that spot inside you, “well done, good girl” you feel the fire ignite in your belly once, clenching around his dick feeling your juices flowing, you could feel him pulsating inside you knowing what was about to happen, you contact your walls around him once more milking him for everything he had, hearing him moan your name loudly for all to hear, he stilled inside you as he emptied his load before pulling out slowly flopping down next to you on the bed with a humph.

You roll onto your back turning your head to face him, his fingers brush away the hair that had fallen into your face, admiring your beauty once more. You smile at him and lean in to peck his lips, fingers softly running though his beard. “That has to be the best sex I’ve ever had” you sigh and giggle looking away from his eyes at your confession. “Mmm me too, I can die happy now” you laugh as he slings an arm over your stomach pulling you into his side, you look up at his face and can’t contain your smile. He presses a kiss onto your shoulder, and settles back on the bed, expecting you to lean back with him, but you don’t, you sit up, looking around on the floor to reach for your clothes, Ross frowns. “I should probably get going” you turn to Ross once you’ve slipped your dress over your head. He finds his hand reaching out for you “oh okay, um sure…” it was the first time you had seen him at a loss for words, “I’m just gonna use the bathroom” you give him a awkward smile, crossing the room to the bathroom and closing the door, you freshen yourself up and notice your flushed cheeks and messy hair in the mirror, you look well and truly fucked. Well you had been.

You run your fingers through your hair, splashing some cold water on your face before exiting the room, seeing Ross now standing in the middle of the room, his trousers are done back up and he now has on a T-shirt instead of his button down. You walk over to him, unsure of either of your next moves. “You can stay if you’d like, I don’t want you to feel like you have to leave because you don’t” his words trail off, eyes glued to the ground almost as if he was afraid of your answer. “I uh, I’ve never done this before, I assumed you’d want me to leave” you take a step closer to him, head tilting so you can meet his eyes. “No, I want you to stay, if you want to that is, don’t feel like yo-“ you take another step forwards and attach your lips to his once more, feeling him relax under your touch.

That’s how it all started. Ross was in town visiting friends for a few weeks on a break from tour before going back to America. So you two agreed that while he was in town the two of you would meet up and have some casual fun, however what was supposed to be just a fling, or hanging out a couple of times turned into every night huddled up in each others arms after hours of exhausting sex, exploring each others bodies, learning how to make each other feel good, and learning everything about one another. It was like Ross had a fixation with her, the second they were apart, he wanted her close again. They had spent their time doing novice things like visiting garden centres and book stores, hiding from friends when they saw them crossing the street, then giggling like school children if they nearly got caught, but they promised each other just until tour restarts so no one gets hurt.

The day did finally come for Ross to leave and you’d spent the night before in his arms telling him how much you’ll miss him and begging him to promise to stay friends with you, to which he kissed you so hard it knocked the air out your lungs. And you thought in your mind that when he left that would be it, just a bittersweet memory of your time spent with the bass player, but when your phone wouldn’t stop dinging with the back and forth text messages every day you couldn’t help but feel hopeful. He’d been gone a month, the both of you never failing to message everyday and call when you can when Matty noticed something was up. The once sociable Ross kept hiding himself away, quieter than usual, always staring at phone, and when it did finally ring or buzz, he couldn’t help but notice the smile that reached his best friends face, he looked like a Cheshire Cat. But there was one day where Ross just moped around, not saying a word to anyone, barely eating, and he hardly interacted with the crowd when they performed that night. The band were in their dressing room after the show having a drink all chatting and praising each other feeling the after show high, bar one, Ross was skunked in the corner on a sofa staring at his phone, Matty watched as the taller man shook his head and made his way out the room, leaving his phone behind on the sofa. He knew it was wrong but the way he’s been staring at his phone for weeks has given Matty his suspicions, walking across the room sitting where Ross once occupied the seat. Seeing Ross had left his phone unlocked he took a quick glance, instantly tapping on his text messages, seeing the first name that popped up being an unfamiliar name, he clicked on the messages, and clearly he had found the source of Ross’s discontentment that day.

Y/n 🖤 - I hope the tours going well I miss you xx

Ross - it’s going great, would be better if you were here tho, I miss that beautiful face xx

Y/n🖤 - I wish lol xx

Ross - please come, I’ll send you ticket, I really wanna see you babe xx

Y/n 🖤- Ross, you know what we said, besides what would everyone think of you bringing a random girl on tour with you! Xx

Ross - I know we said it was just a fling but I want you, I miss you too much, and the guys would love you, please just think about it? Xxx

- message read

Matty looked at the name and the photo attached in his friends phone, feeling giddy at the thought of his friend having a secret girlfriend, he sneakily puts your number in his phone dropping the phone back to the arm of the sofa before standing to join the other boys.

———

Another week passes and you dodge the topic tour all together when you speak on the phone, at least you try your hardest. It’s another late night for him, early morning for you spending as time talking to each other, wanting to hear each others voices. Ross can’t help but feel how deeply he missed seeing the way your lips would move with each word you would annunciate. He missed watching your smile light up until it reached your eyes and he missed the pretty sounds you made, just for him. He would give anything to have you close again.

“Sorry what did you say, babe?” His voice relaxed finally hearing the soothing tones of your voice in his ears he forgot to listen to what you were saying. “ I said I saw some videos of you the other night, you looked really good, like you’re having fun” he waits a few seconds before replying knowing he’ll get reprimanded for it. “I’d be having a lot more fun, if a certain someone I know would come along” he sighs dramatically, head resting back on his pillow as he daydreams about the girl on the other end of the phone. He just hears you chuckling, picturing you shaking your head, “I have to get ready for work soon” you wished you didn’t. “Don’t go, come back to bed, we’ll cuddle a bit longer” Ross sighs eyes shutting at the thought of you being with him in his bed. “You know, I cuddle your jumper every night, it’s starting to smell like me instead of you though, it’s making me sad” you admit, pouting as if he can see it through the phone. “God I would give anything to touch you right now” you gasp at his words he can hear you biting your lip through the phone and it drives him wild. “Not even like that, I just miss holding you, feeling your skin on mine, I don’t think you realise how much I miss you, I really care about you y/n”

————

After that night Ross finds himself in a bit of a slump, he had tried his best to push his feelings down but the more he did that the more they grew. And even though you were both making the effort, the calls and the messages just weren’t enough. He longed to be near you and didn’t realise that being without you was bringing him down. He was messing up on stage, missing cues and looking miserable and the band noticed, trying to cheer him up onstage to no avail. The person that would cheer him up was thousands of miles away blissfully unaware of the affect she had on him. After 3 consecutive nights of fluffing up on stage Matty confronted the tall bearded man, much to his surprise.

“Hey man, what’s going on?” He decided to keep things simple, afraid he’d aggravate the man. “Nothin, just missing someone I guess” he draws out, taking a sip of his drink, subconsciously tapping his phone while he thinks about you, Matty notices, “anyone in particular?” He pushes, tilting his head to the side hoping his friend would finally open up to him about the mystery girl he has been messaging. “It’s uh…” he sighs shaking his head thinking for a moment “no one, just family, you know how it is” Ross stands from his place on the sofa, clutching his phone in his hand tightly, nodding his head to Matty, before walking off out the room, head in is phone.

You were asleep when your phone began ringing on top your beside table, you groan as it carries on ringing, the caller relentless to speak to you apparently, you click the green button before seeing it was an unknown number calling giving them a very groggy “hello” down the line. “Is this y/n” you hear the other person speak, “yeah, uh who is this? And why are you calling me at 3am?” You question flinching as your phone screen brightens to find out the time. “Oh shit sorry about that, I always forget about time zones, it’s Matty, Ross’s friend, from the band…” it takes your tired brain a second to comprehend what he’s saying before it clicks. “Oh right, hello Matty” he laughs, a bit too loud for your liking, you wince pulling the phone away from your ear. “Uh basically I’m calling because Ross has been super down the last couple of weeks, and really isn’t himself, and I think he really misses you” you almost jump up in your bed, “he’s spoken about me?!” Matty chuckles shaking his head, if she was as mushy about him as his friend was they were a match made in heaven. “Indirectly, he just keeps moping around waiting for his phone to go off all day and if it doesn’t he looks like he could cry…anyway I was wondering if I could sort you out a plane ticket and get you out here to surprise him?” You could feel your heart beating fast in your chest at the thought, and before your brain could say no your mouth was saying “yes!”

-

Matty had picked you up at the airport telling the guys he had some ‘business to attend to’ then not really caring what that meant to question it. Ross had been messaging all day but had received no response, making him worry. And when he tired to call it went straight to voicemail, had something happened or were you angry with him about something, his head was reeling and he felt like he could pass out. They were performing a few shows at the same venue, opting to stay in a hotel for the week instead of the usual bus, which you had been glad to hear about, not liking your chances with squeezing into a bunk with your giant of a man. Ross was sitting impatiently on his bed in his hotel room staring at his phone, waiting for the read receipts to appear next to his text messages when there’s a knock on his door. He huffs and drops his phone reaching the door in a matter of seconds. Eyes nearly popping out of their sockets when he spots you behind the door. In the flesh. “Hi” he doesn’t respond or acknowledge Matty standing next to you holding your bags, he lurches forwards lifting you into his arms, legs wrapping around his waist, your hands find their way to his hair and beard, combing through the locks, noticing both had gotten a bit longer. “Hi” he finally says, lips pressing to yours with so much passion. His arms around you squeezed you as you kissed making sure you were really there. Matty stood awkwardly before dropping your bag walking down the hallway muttering “so much for thank you Matty” shaking his head laughing. Ross pulls away to laugh resting his head back against the door frame “thanks Matt, appreciate it” he shouts to his friend, who in return waves the pair of you off, entering another room on the floor. Ross sets you back on the ground, hands flying to your face, brushing hairs out the way, and caressing your cheeks. “I’m not even gonna ask why, or how, just gonna thank god because I’ve missed you so much” he kisses you once more and you feel everything he gives you in the kiss, all the hurt he’s been feeling, all the joy he feels now, and you want to feel everything. “Come on Mrs, let me show you how much I lov- miss you” you’re eyes widen, biting your lip as you excitedly follow him into his room.

[frozenjokes]

the boatem ghosts epilogue is over 10k words I am filled with such great fear what have I started. Also given that I’m writing it all before I post it bc I have no idea what I’m doing uhhhhhhhh idk where o was going with that here’s a sneak peak.

cw: violence, fighting, not really much blood cub is a ghost and scar is built different. That’s all the context you really need

Also this is unedited

***

He grabbed for the firework rockets in his pocket, but Scar was quick, his claws hooking into Cub’s legs. Cub shrieked and kicked out, but his foot found no solid purchase on Scar’s body. In a moment of panic, he dove downward before Scar could drag him out of the air, aiming to drive him against a tree. The thing about running headfirst into trees however, is that you, the guy in front, also get a face full of bark if you’re not careful, which Cub was decidedly not. Cub reeled back, unsure if the screech filling the air was his own or Scar’s. He sat, suspended in a daze, but didn’t get the chance to recover before Scar pounced, dragging him to the ground in a sharp pin.

“I’m not done with you. I have one more question. Go ahead and relax, alright?” Scar breathed, his nails shaking lightly against Cub’s shoulders. Cub huffed, his eyes closing seemingly against his own will. Well, it wasn’t like he could see much anyway face down in the dirt. And resting here, surrounded by such a strong magic presence, well, it was comfortable. If he didn’t think too hard about the claws in his back, he almost felt safe. He hoped this spell wasn’t going to affect his memory.

“Good,” Scar continued when Cub didn’t answer, still breathing heavily, “This magic I’m doing, I know you can track it, but can anyone else? I didn’t see any other… vex.. whatever you are.. around.”

Cub grumbled to himself, struggling to turn his head, which Scar did not make any easier. “We all have ways to track traces of magic of any creature that’s able to use it. When you’re looking for a specific mob, we’ve got machines that can track anything. If someone wanted to find an evoker or a vex, they could. As it stands, it’s pretty obvious something big is here. Though, I don’t think anyone is looking, so you can take your nails out of my back, thank you.”

Scar seemed to take his last comment as a suggestion to do the opposite. Cub winced, the fog on his mind parting slightly. Was this part of the spell? Did Scar have to work to make him comfortable for it to be most effective?

“Right. Well I’m done with you now.” Scar wrenched his claws across Cub’s back, Cub opening his eyes fast enough to see the sneer on Scar’s face. His stomach dropped. He couldn’t die here. What if his spirit couldn’t find its way out? Scar seemed to wait for Cub’s response, cruelty dancing in his expression. Cub didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, but he needed to buy time.

“My question,” Cub pushed back, fighting to push back the reason for his fear from his voice, “I haven’t asked my question.”

“Oops,” Scar raked his claws against his back once more and Cub opened his mouth in a silent scream, “Well, I’m getting tired, so maybe next time, hm?” Scar raised his arm to strike again, but Cub turned, drawing his own claws across Scar’s face, catching the left side. Scar gasped as Cub scrambled out from under him, but apparently the threat of injury was not enough to deter the vex. Either the spell made Cub move slower, or Scar was just quick, but as Scar leapt again, it was becoming increasingly clear Cub wouldn’t be able to run.

Cub turned to face him, just fast enough to catch one arm, but not the other as Scar dragged it down his chest. Scar only grazed his skin, but given the malevolent excitement in his eyes, Cub got the impression that was on purpose. He was being played with. He lashed out clumsily, but Scar stepped back, diving forward at the follow-through and knocking Cub back to the ground. Cub kicked out again, but still couldn’t seem to strike where the other’s scars had made him physical. Cub grimaced as Scar shoved his arms to the ground.

“You’re afraid, now why is that? This isn’t about the question, is it, Cub,” Scar snickered, digging his claws through the old injuries in his arms. Cub winced at the discomfort, struggling to pull his face away from Scar.

“Let me go. I’ll leave, you don’t have to send me back this way. I’ll leave.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Believe me I’ll leave. I won’t even come back for a while, if that’s what you want,” Cub squeezed his eyes shut, wincing at his own desperation. He could swallow his pride if that meant he could get out of here in one piece.

“Oh, don’t worry, I believe you,” Scar drew his claws gently across Cub’s neck in a tease. Cub thrashed, but stopped stiffly as Scar tightened his grip. “Are you worried? About getting lost?”

Cub gritted his teeth as Scar pressed down harder. “No.”

“Ah, well that’s good. Personally, I’m feeling optimistic! Watching you bumble around the woods for a couple hours has got me feeling pretty good about this. Good luck!”

“No-” but Scar had already ripped away his throat, sending darkness swirling through his vision.

[obitohno]

primeval | 02

satoru gojo x reader

synopsis ⤸

you have never believed in fairy-tales. besides, werewolves don’t actually exist… right?

chapters ⤸

៚ contents

៚ prev | next ᝰ

themes ⤸

fem! reader, 18+, dark fic, werewolf! gojo, human! reader, slow burn, soulmates, omegaverse, werewolves, mating bond, smut, masturbation, cunnilingus, blowjobs, anal, breeding, creampies, ruts, heats, action, angst, graphic depictions of violence, mentions of blood

word count ⤸

6.1k (edited, lowercase intended)

a/n ⤸

thank you to everyone who shared the first chapter of ‘primeval’. i honestly didn’t think many people would like it bc the first chapter doesn’t jump straight into the smut… it’s coming, though, dw. this chapter is a little more action packed, which i’m still getting my head around on writing, but it was fun to write. also!! i actually edited this one?!?! wow??!!! feeling v proud of myself bc this’ll probably never happen again, lmaoo

reblogs are appreciated ~

two:

when you come to, two days have already passed. your mother’s face is the first you see, and you're bewildered at the sight of unshed tears that glisten in the very eyes you’d inherited from birth. 

‘mum?’ 

your mother barely contains a muffled sob, shaking hands reaching to embrace you into a bone-crushing hug. you groan, head swimming as you reluctantly return the gesture with an awkward pat to your mother’s shoulder. 

‘what’s wrong? i—’

your mother’s voice is grave, with an expression to match, as she leans back from the embrace to stare at you, ‘we need to leave.’ frown forming between your brows, you move from the bed, standing on shaky legs. with a glance, you realise that you’re still wearing your dress, the fabric crinkled and matted in places, and your frown deepens, lips parting to question just how long you were asleep for, but your mother interrupts you, ‘now.’ 

before you can even think of a reply, your mother’s fingers are curling around your wrist, pulling you towards the door. your temples throb and you wince, a wave of vertigo hitting you just as she pulls you to the bottom of the stairs. your left hand flails to catch your balance on the wall, but your mother doesn’t wait, pushing you towards the front door. your confusion doubles when she doesn’t even allow you time to tug your shoes on. ‘what’s going on—?’

‘no time,’ she snaps at you, yanking the front door open and pushing you out of it. stumbling, you wince as the gravel bites into the soles of your feet. ‘get in the car.’ 

doing as you’re told, you slump into the passenger seat with an exhausted sigh. you’re unsure of why you feel so tired, but there’s no time to dwell, your mother sliding into the driver’s seat, slamming the door closed. she wears an expression of panic, and whilst you have so many questions to ask, they die on the tip of your tongue when the car rumbles to life. your mother wastes no time in reversing the vehicle out onto the road, almost colliding with a passing car, the sound of their horn cutting through the air. wide eyed, you gawk at her, she who pointedly concentrates on the road, kicking the car into drive. 

the small car makes it to the other side of town in record timing, and you’re sure that your mother has broken just about every road law along the way. just as the car starts down the long winding path that leads the way out of the town, you dare to ask, ‘where’s dad?’

the car speeds even faster and you grip the door handle to keep yourself from slamming into the door as the vehicle swiftly veers off to the left. 

something is definitely wrong, you think. horribly wrong. 

‘w-wait! dad—we can’t just leave—!’ 

something suddenly slams into the car from behind, the tyres skidding across the tarmac so roughly, the noise rings in your ears. your body is lurched forward, hands flying out to stop your head from colliding with the dashboard and your seatbelt groans under the strain of your weight, the fabric burning into your shoulder. wincing, you do your best to ignore the ache in your forehead, your mother letting a sharp yell slip past her lips. it isn’t long before the car skids to a halt and your entire body trembles, breath mixing with the warm air, steaming the windows from the inside. with shaking hands, your mother reaches for you, and you look up, horrified to see the blood pooling from her temple. 

‘m-mum—!’

a low, animalistic growl echoes from the outside, the sound tracing its way down your spine until it reaches the tips of your toes. and then, you smell it again. freshly cut grass, only this time, it intermingles with the scent of… dog? it reeks, seeping in through the metal framework until you have no choice but to inhale it. your nose crinkles and you have to force down the urge to gag. 

‘did we hit something?’ you dare to whisper, hand reaching to wipe the condensation from the window. the sight of a large shadow makes your stomach churn, your back hitting the seat as you slump, slack-jawed. the shadow moves closer, close enough that you can just make out the shape of four legs, accompanied by a tail. ‘oh my god—i-is that—?’ 

your mother’s fingers are pressing the button on your seatbelt and she leans over, throwing the passenger door wide open, ‘you need to run!’ 

your head head whips to gawk at her, ‘do you not see that? it’s a fucking wolf!’ tears cloud your vision, ‘oh god—dad! he said… i… i should have—’

she shoves you, hard. hard enough that you lose your balance, body hurtling out of the side of the car. your left wrist takes the brunt of your weight, the impact shattering its way up the length of your arm. a shriek is punched from your lungs and your bottom lip wobbles, pain stinging your now bloodied hand. dazed, you look up to meet your mother’s panicked stare. 

‘run! you have to run!’ her eyes are glossy, the tears staining her cheeks in a way that you have never seen before. when you don’t immediately heed her order, she all but screams at you, ‘fucking run!’ 

heart in your mouth, you scramble to your feet, body wavering as you almost trip over your feet. to your horror, the wolf is much closer that you had initially thought, not even a few yards away. behind you, the forest takes form again, and you take another wobbly step back, debating on the possibility of you escaping into the thick foliage.  

what the hell are you even thinking?  

if the wolf gives chase—which seems likely as its steely gaze is glued to you, completely ignoring your mother’s frantic wailing—there’s no way you could out-run it. just the sheer size of it seems unnatural—is it even possible for wolves to grow to such a size? even the colour of its fur seems ludicrous. the palest of silvers seems to gleam, almost white in colour, and if not for the animal advancing closer, you would stop to admire the sheen that spreads across its spine. the scent of freshly cut grass grows stronger with each step the wolf takes towards you, and you match its pace with one step backwards. there’s another scent in the air, something you can’t quite decipher, but you don’t bother to question it, stumbling back with another unbalanced step.

the ache in your temples has now spread to the back of your head and you suddenly find it a little harder to keep your eyes open. 

your mother calls your name again, begging, ‘run… please, you have to—!’ 

the beast releases a growl so loud that you feel it vibrate beneath your bare feet. something snaps to your left, a branch, perhaps, but you don’t stick around to find out, legs moving of their own accord. faster than you’ve ever moved before, you lunge towards the tree-line, barely processing your mother’s voice that echoes after you, egging you on. your feet sink into the soil, branches whipping past your head as you weave through the heavily crowded birch trees, the trunks stretched high above your head. the further you run, the denser the trees become, making it increasingly difficult to move. you duck under a particularly low hanging branch, feet pausing as you strain to listen. 

the forest is eerily quiet, the canopy of the trees blocking out the sunlight, making it harder to see. you listen as best as you can, sucking in air between your lips, nursing your injured wrist to your chest. your teeth bite into your bottom lip in order to muffle the cry that escapes, eyes welling. blinking rapidly, you sniffle, continuing your escape with a limp hindering your movements. you don’t think that you’ve been followed, but if you have, there’s no way that that huge, muscled body would ever be able to follow you through the thickening tree-trunks that now make it a task for your frame to slip through. 

you quietly pray that your mother has gotten to safety.

you’re unsure of how much time passes as you walk, but suddenly, there’s a break of light in the swarm of trees. you rush forwards, tripping over your feet just as you burst past the last of the roots, falling as you do so. you make the mistake of bracing your weight onto your injured wrist, unable to stop the pained shriek that ripples out into the darkening sky. it’s far too late when you slap your uninjured hand over your mouth to swallow the sound, and for a tense moment, you lie still, dirt caking your clammy skin, buried under your nails and matting the hair that sticks to the space behind your ears. 

then, you hear him. 

his footsteps are slow, calculated and not at all rushed. yours, however, are panicked, trying your best to stand, but soon realising that your right foot is trapped, squeezed into a tight gap between two large birch trees. this time, you don’t bother to hide the chest-wracking sobs that escape you, scrambling into a sitting position to try and dislodge your foot. it makes no difference, and the more you pull, the faster the pain throbs its way up your leg, dizzying. a pained moan breathes past your lips, blood ignited with adrenaline. 

he’s closer now, heavy footsteps almost deafening as he stalks towards you. he seems to be moving cautiously, which would have confused you had you not been focused on wrenching your foot free. but to your trepidation, the beast approaches, stepping into your line of sight, hackles slightly raised. 

stilling, you tilt your head back to look at the animal towering above you. and much to both your relief and horror, it’s not him. gone is the fur lined with silver; this beast is coated in a dark brown that almost looks black. its eyes, as equally as dark, watch you for a moment, before taking a slow step forward. immediately, the fear returns by a tenfold, and you begin to struggle again, your ministrations more urgent, panic-driven. you cry out as your foot twists painfully and in your distress, you almost miss the sight of his body morphing before your very eyes. 

the sound of cracking bones makes your stomach lurch, and you’re only just able to swallow the bile down, glossy eyes wide as the wolf disappears, only to be replaced by the large frame of a stark-naked man. 

you blink once, twice, thrice, absolutely baffled as to whether your eyes are deceiving you. 

but then he takes a tentative step closer, and your heart immediately lurches into your mouth. 

‘g-get away from me,’ you stammer, twisting your leg once more. 

the man raises his hands, as if to prove he means you no harm. something you’re unable to believe, especially when he just transformed from the form of a wolf. your father may have warned you of the wolves out here in shirakawa, but you wonder what his reaction will be once he hears the wolves can shape-shift into humans. the thought of your father is enough for the tears to return, features settling into a quiet cry as you attempt to twist your foot once more. 

the man is slow to approach you, and you pretend that you can’t see his penis hanging between his legs, as naked as the day he was born. ‘i can help,’ his voice is quiet but you are just able to hear him over the sound of your buzzing blood echoing in your ears. the mere thought of this… man? wolf… hybrid? whatever the hell he is…. the thought of him touching you makes you shiver and you look at your leg, miserable. there’s only one option that you can think of to aid your attempt to escape, and just imagining it makes you grimace. but you have no choice. the man seems to guess your next move and with surprising speed, he’s rushing towards you, shouting, ‘no! don’t!’ 

but it’s too late. 

gritting your teeth, you use the momentum of your weight to twist your leg as far as it will go, before the tibia bone eventually gives way under the pressure. the snap! rings down your eardrums, followed by a choked scream of pain. blood rushes behind your eyes as you somehow manage to wrench your foot free, but that’s as far as you get, your body immediately giving in and crumpling to the floor. 

the naked man is by your side, his hands reaching for you. you don’t even have the energy to move out of his grasp. he lifts you easily and you babble unintelligently, head lolling over his forearm. black clouds your vision and your entire leg now throbs, body barely able to process the pain that throbs underneath the surface of your skin. 

‘fuck,’ you are just able to hear the man curse, eyelids heavy as you try to blink up at him. your injured hand hangs limp, dangling in the air as he begins to trek away from the shadows of the trees. you attempt to tell him to leave you behind, to remove his strangely human hands from your body. but your tongue is heavy in your mouth and whatever you plan to say is rendered useless as you slip in and out of consciousness for the remainder of the journey. 

when you eventually come to for the fifth time, it is when a light is shone directly into your left pupil, and you groan, eyelid snapping to shut out the intrusion. someone gently shakes at your shoulder, but when you try to blink your eyes open, your sight is blurred. blinking your pupils back into focus, you recognise that you’re now indoors, lying on your back, head tilted up towards the ceiling. the first face you see is of the man who had carried you from the trees. you instinctively flinch at the sight of him, although, your eyes continue to peer at him curiously. his lips seem to be curve into a slight smile, and although he is now clothed, the memory of your meeting makes you flinch, grimacing. 

you attempt to sit, bracing your weight on your uninjured hand. your left wrist is bandaged, the fabric wrapped neatly to secure the injury in place. you don’t dare to look at the damage of your leg, an ache pounding across your forehead as you successfully pull yourself into an upright position. 

‘careful,’ the dark haired man coaxes, his expression one of barely concealed amusement. his words gain the attention of the other person in the room, one you hadn’t even noticed. he’s a pink haired man who stands to your right, torch in hand. he grins down at you, toothily and welcoming. he appears to have a peculiar taste in facial tattoos, and you can’t help but gawk at them. is that a mouth?

his grin broadens. ‘humans,’ he tuts, but he’s still grinning, ‘so jumpy.’ 

you grimace, tearing your gaze from him, back to the brown haired man to your left. he’s still watching you, his expression unreadable now. ‘don’t worry,’ he assures you of worries that you daren’t acknowledge out loud. ‘everything will be—’

the door flies open so wildly that it ricochets back off the wall behind it. you have to bite the inside of your cheek in order to stop yourself from yelping out in surprise. your eyes flicker to the doorway, along with the two men in the room, the three of you peering at the man who enters the room. 

you stare. 

it’s hard not to. 

especially when the first thing you notice of him is the wild mass of white hair that sits atop his head. you tremble when he steps inside the room, all but slamming the door shut behind him. 

‘so jumpy,’ the pink haired man repeats, chuckling. 

you sit frozen on the tabletop that you’ve been placed on, watching the unnaturally tall man stare down at you with a scowl that makes the bottom of your stomach churn with nerves. you swallow, the room silent as no-one dares to speak. you have so many questions, most of which you’d never thought that you’d ever have to ask, but your tongue doesn’t seem to want to work, frozen stiff in the confines of your mouth. you dare to inspect the white haired man, who is yet to say a word, or to even blink an eyelid.

if he’s at all bothered by your stare, he doesn’t voice it, taking the time to look you up and down, electric-blue eyes loitering on the expanse of skin that is bare to the world as your torn dress has ridden up your thighs. you try to not look so jumpy as you clench your thighs shut, eyes sweeping over his abnormally large form. his biceps strained under the neatly ironed dress-shirt that he wears, crossed over his chest, and you try to not notice the freckles on his lips, nor the way his trousers fit perfectly around his—

someone clears their throat and your eyes snap away from him, cheeks hot as you realise that you’ve been caught staring. 

‘now she’s awake, i’ll go fetch the male,’ the pink-haired man announces to no-one in particular. 

he crosses the room, brushing past the white-haired man whom is yet to stop staring at you. ‘what of the female?’ his voice is deeper than you expect, the sound charming its way into the centre of your abdomen.

a pair of brown eyes glance towards you before he answers, ‘sedated.’ and then he’s leaving, closing the door shut behind him. you feel the ache dull slightly and you manage to exhale with relief, good hand reaching to massage at your temples with your index finger. 

‘i can get you something for the pain,’ the dark-haired man—your saviour, you think bitterly—offers. but he seems to decide for you, already rising from his chair. however, his white-haired companion beats him to it. he crosses the room faster than you can blink, sneering down at you before his canines elongate and harshly sink into the meat of his own wrist. horrified, you watch him leer over you before his other hand snaps out to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling your head backwards.

yelping at the sudden pain, you recognise your mistake a second too late. he presses his bloodied wrist to your open mouth and your cry is muffled against his skin. with your uninjured hand, you attempt to slap him away, gagging at the taste of iron filling your mouth, coating your tongue. his grip is relentless, however, and he doesn’t budge, his fingers tightening in your hair. 

‘you’re hurting her,’ the other man says, and you close your eyes so that neither of them can see the tears that bubble beneath your eyelids. you scratch at the hand that twists your hair until the roots begin to burn. 

‘fuckin’ drink,’ he hisses into your ear, the sultry tone of his voice sounding very much electric as it shocks down your spine, your body unwillingly slumping against his, weak. you cave, reluctantly swallowing down the metallic liquid that’s begun to thicken inside your mouth. your stomach lurches, but his grip tightens to prevent you from wiggling away. the iron scent taints the air and the more you drink, the warmer your body tingles, sweat trickling down your spine. his blood is hot on her tongue, and you shiver, his chin resting on the top of your head, his chest pressing to your spine. 

the door clicking shut is barely registered by either of you, but you soon recognise that the two of you are now alone. the ache is slowly dissipating from your forehead and you shakily exhale from your nostrils. you moan against his wrist, swallowing, goosebumps etched across every inch of your skin. his chest rumbles against your back and you realise that he’s practically purring in your ear, the sound enticing another embarrassing moan that slips, uncontrolled, from your bloodied lips. 

a few minutes pass before his blood ceases, his wrist slipping away from your face. to your utter embarrassment, you have to stifle the whine that builds upon the tip of your tongue, with a cough. satisfied that your stomach is now bloated, his fingers retrieve from your hair, and suddenly, the spell is broken, and only then do you feel disgust. 

disgusted by him feeding you his blood. appalled that you’d allowed him to do it. mortified that you had actually enjoyed it. 

but before you can begin to feel alarmed by what has just transpired, his fingers are curling under your chin, tilting your head towards his. he leans over your shoulder with ease, eyes staring down at the blood staining your lips. up close, curiosity spikes and without thinking, your index finger is tracing the faint, but jagged scar that cuts through his left eyebrow, his eyelid fluttering shut to allow you to ghost over the skin that’s slightly raised. he makes a noise, something a cross between another purr and a growl, electric orbs blinking open to meet yours. 

something screams at you to escape from his embrace, that there is something terribly wrong with these shape-shifting people, that you most definitely should not be thinking about kissing a man you met just minutes ago. but there you sit, allowing him to press his nose to your cheek, listening to him inhaling deeply. when he moves his head again, his nose traces yours, his breath hot against the gentle slope of your chin. 

he closes the small gap between the two of you, his mouth moulding to yours, and he shudders against you, panting heavily through his nostrils. for an ungodly reason that you don’t understand, you do your best to return his kiss, but he’s frantic, desperate, almost animalistic as his tongue pushes its way past your lips to taste the inside of your mouth. he licks everywhere that he can reach, a low growl hummed against your skin when your fingers dare to tangle in his hair, tugging. his fingers bite into the soft flesh of your thigh and his breath shakes, almost whimpered into the crook of your neck. 

the spell is broken by a knock at the door. 

there’s a flash of cold air that whips you in the face as he all but rips his body from yours, practically flying to the other side of the room as he straightens his clothing, running his fingers through his hair and clearing his throat. he composes himself in a way that gives no indication towards what just happened, expression now stoic as he glances at you. you’re bewildered, unable to comprehend what the hell you’ve just done. 

you’re unable to hide the confusion from your face, even when the door is pushed open to reveal the same pink-haired man as before, along with his brunette companion. but the third figure is the one who gains your attention, the kiss rapidly forgotten. 

‘dad?’ 

he rushes into the room, arms curling around you as he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug. ‘oh god,’ he’s crying, eyes squeezed shut as he pats your matted hair with a heavy hand. ‘they said you’d broken your leg—i thought—!’ he pulls back to look down at your leg, and you follows his gaze with your own. only, when you wiggle your toes, there’s no flinch of pain, not even a twinge nor an ache. 

dumbfounded, you twist your leg the other way, leaning forward to pull it towards your groin. you prod at the bandage with a lone finger, confusion doubling. you had definitely broken your leg, for you can still feel the ghost of the nauseating reverberation of the bone snapping, and the searing hot pain that had shot up your entire leg. 

‘i—’ you don’t even know what to say. you lean back on both hands, baffled when your sprained wrist doesn’t so much as throb under the pressure. you tug the bandage from your hand, expecting the skin to be swollen underneath. but to your surprise, your wrist appears perfectly fine, even when you proceed to twist it to the left, to the right, and back again, just to make sure. 

looking up, you meet the stare of the white-haired man who remains brooding in the corner of the room, only to look away when your father pushes your hair back from your face. he’s frowning down at you, ‘why is your mouth bleeding?’ 

your hand flies to your lips, wiping at the corners. dark red comes away, staining her fingertips. 

‘it’s not mine,’ you say faintly, hand dropping into your lap, limp. the dots start to connect, and when you realise exactly why he’d forced you to drink his blood, you’re both disgusted and relieved at the same time. you also feel a twinge of bitterness. you’d sacrificed the use of your leg in order to escape, but here you are, sat in a room you don’t recognise, with people you don’t even know. 

your efforts were in vain, and yet, you are still alive. you could be relieved with that, at least. 

‘dad,’ you whisper, hoping that your voice doesn’t break despite how desperately you wish to cry. ‘where’s mum? she—’

your father’s expression is grim, eyes gleaming with exhaustion. he sits before you, his hands curling around yours. ‘i need you to listen to me carefully…’ 

and then he begins to talk slowly, as if talking to a child. most of what he says goes through in one ear and out of the other, but you process the more important details. your mother, always so strong, so beautiful, is now rendered weak, induced into a coma because she’d worked herself into a state. ‘it’s for her own safety,’ your father explains when he sees the fury burning in your eyes. the very same eyes that you had inherited from the woman he’s adored for the past thirty years. he continues to explain, and he’s rambling, talking about things you don’t —can’t—quite comprehend. 

‘did you just say…’ you interrupt him, whispering. your gaze sweeps over every face in the room, before focusing on your father’s once more. you swallow, disbelief plastered into your tone when you utter the word, ‘werewolf?’ 

the other men immediately bristle at the word, the white-haired one straightening his spine, arms crossed over his chest. he sneers as he spits, correcting you, ‘wild.’

you are unable to help the shrinking of your spine, cheeks enflamed by your mistake. you don’t even know why you feel the urge to apologise, but you’re able to swallow it down as you look to your father once more. your hands shake under his and he sighs, head lowered as he mutters, ‘i know it’s a lot to take in, but—’

‘a lot?’ you scoff, bitter smile smacked across your face. ‘it’s crazy.’ you pull your hands free from his hold. ‘do you even know what the hell you’re saying? werewo—wilds,’ you correct quickly, ‘they’re not… they… they don’t exist.’ your hands shake as you push your knotted hair back from your face. ‘i-i don’t know why you’re saying…’ your words trail off, unshed tears forming in the ducts of your eyes. ‘mum… she told me to run… i tried.’ your bottom lip trembles and the first tear escapes, four pairs of eyes watching it roll down the curve of your cheek. ‘i-i tried to… but then i fell and then he… he—’ 

your head tilts to look at the dark haired man who remains standing by the closed door. he almost looks sorry for you but all you can recall is him reaching for you in the forest, your body pressed against his naked skin as he carried you out of there, just before you’d passed out. unconsciously, your eyes dart down to his clothed groin, barely registering the way he squirms under your stare. 

‘oh my god,’ you croak. 

you had watched him transform from beast to man in the blink of an eye. 

the reality settles into the pit of your stomach, just before the organ violently lurches inside you. you barely manage to hunch over to the side before you promptly heave, emptying your stomach out onto the carpet. the stench of blood, hot and metallic, fills the room, and you gag, eyes squeezing shut. 

‘the carpet, man,’ someone groans, exasperated, and you guess that it’s the pink-haired man. 

someone touches your back, stroking soothingly, pulling your hair back from your face. 

‘i-is that blood?’ you hear your father ask, suddenly no longer by your side, his voice quiet from the other side of the room. 

the hand on your spine stills when they feel you stiffen. you soon realise just who is trying to comfort you and your stomach lurches again. empty bile burns its way up the back of your throat before spitting out past your lips, a dry cough filling the tense silence. when you feel it safe enough to straighten up, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, a thin sheet of sweat now coating your entire body, and you shiver, willing away the tears that threaten to spill. 

‘this isn’t happening,’ you whisper to no-one in particular, eyes boring up at the ceiling. the presence beside you is domineering, yet somehow comforting, but you hate how your body instinctively leans into his touch, allowing him to hold you upright when a bout of dizziness almost unbalances you. 

you flinch from his touch, not noticing how he bristles at your rejection. 

‘dad…’ you wince at the sound of your voice cracking, tongue now dry. you try to ignore the lingering scent of your vomit, another ache forming between the crease of your brows. your father is by your side once more, his hands wiping at the blood that is smeared across your cheek. 

‘i’m so sorry,’ he sounds pained, guilt-ridden. ‘i should have told you sooner, but your mother… she didn’t take it well and by the time i followed her home…’ he chokes back a sob, ‘she’d already taken you.’ 

tears well in your eyes despite your attempts to blink them away. you point to your leg, ‘how did…?’ the question is frozen on the tip of your tongue but your father still answers. 

‘so… you know the stories of wolves… wilds and their mates, yes?’ you don’t respond, staring at him blankly. he sighs heavily. ‘wolves—wilds are destined to a mate from the day they’re born. someone that they’re bonded to… for life.’ 

you frown, headache worsening, ‘what? like soulmates?’ 

‘if you like, yes,’ your father nods. he pauses then, glancing to the white -haired man who you are yet to look at. you would be a fool to not see the apprehension in your father’s gaze, your own flickering to the very man whose blood you’ve just consumed, stomach twisting with nausea once again. ‘you see,’ your father starts, pausing again as if he isn’t sure how to best word his sentence. but he doesn’t need to. 

you’re now staring up at the man before you, memory flashing with the sight of the white-furred wild whom had all but ran head-first into the family car, the memory of the taste of the the heat of his blood on your tongue, and you are forced to inhale the overwhelming scent of freshly-cut grass mixing with the very human smell of someone who is entirely, one-hundred percent all male. 

‘mine,’ he croons, his large hand curling around the back of your neck to hold you in place. the word alone is enough to cause the heat that pools into the space between your legs, similar to the sensation of pride. taken aback by your own reaction, you attempt to tug back from his touch, but your own body betrays you, quickly relishing in the heat of the palm of his hand. his thumb strokes at the jugular vein on the right side of your neck, and you watch, wide-eyed, as the corner of his mouth lifts as he feels for the rapid pulsing. then, as if he remembers that you’re not alone, he’s leaning back, your neck suddenly cold now that he’s no longer touching you. you blink, dazed. 

your father clears his throat, a tad awkwardly. 

‘him?’ 

the lone word that escapes your lips causes a mixed reaction. the dark-haired man, along with his acquaintance, both gawk at you with expressions of disbelief and amusement. the pink-haired man pulls a funny face as if he’s trying not to laugh, the brunette peering down at you, a dark brow raised. your father, however, looks mortified. 

‘… gojo-sama is very well respected,’ he sings praises as if he hadn’t just met the other male just a couple of days ago. ‘he owns these forests, and this town, too. he—’

‘do you know what happens when a wild finds his mate?’ 

the room is silent as he speaks and you dare not to raise your head to meet his gaze. you feel his fingers tapping under your chin, tilting your head up to his own. your eyes zero in on that scar of his, your fingers itching to touch it again, but you settle for curling them into the tattered fabric of what was once your favourite dress. his breath fans across your cheek and you become all too aware of just how close he’s leaning, uncaring of your small audience. his hand seem to scorch your skin, pulse thumping against your neck so rapidly that it’s almost uncomfortable. 

‘my blood heals you,’ he murmurs, voice suddenly much deeper. ‘and yours…’ he trails off, your spike of fear suddenly hitting him square in the face as the tips of his fingers brush against your brow in order to calm the throbbing in your neck. the taste of your fear doesn’t sit right with him, and it loiters in the air, thick. 

his wild itches to ease your discomfort, but gojo presses down the urge with a deep inhale through his nostrils, willing it away as his hand slips from the side of your face. 

‘yours strengthens my very being.’ 

‘alpha blood,’ itadori chimes in, grinning. ‘s’like liquid platinum.’ geto roughly elbows the younger man in the ribs, and itadori grunts, rubbing the sore spot with a scowl, ‘what was that for?’ geto glares down at him, and even the human male shares the same expression. 

you fixate onto the word alpha. 

something changes within you. he scents it before your expression shifts, eyes filtering a shade or two darker. 

both geto and itadori stiffen by the door, sharing a look as they await the order that they are sure is to come. your father, the human male, nervously shifts on the spot, but gojo isn’t paying attention. 

he watches your pupils expand until they are blown wide, unfocused as you peer up at him. a small, pale hand stretches to him and he allows his eyelids to flutter as his wild greedily welcomes your touch. it’s not enough, he needs more, he thinks, his eyes daring to dart down to your lips. your palm flattens against the side of his face, index finger tracing that wretched scar again. you appear entranced by it, and your attentions warm his skin. 

and then, you do what none of them expects.

you brace your weight on your left hand as you lean closer, right hand disappearing into the hair at the base of his neck, your fingers twisting into the locks of snow. you lick your lips, and his stare is transfixed to the slant of your neck, his gums itching as he feels his canines elongate. there’s already a heat forming a sweat under the collar of his shirt and his stomach twists, with nerves or anticipation, he’s unsure. he struggles to not announce his desire to the entire room, although he’s sure they can sense it anyway. swallowing hard, his throat bobbing as he does so, he exhales through his nostrils, struggling to hide the shiver that trickles down his spine. 

and then you whisper one word, calling out to the wild that quivers under the surface of his skin. 

‘alpha.’ 

© obitohno. all rights reserved. do not repost my works.

[morallygreyyn]

when the haikyuu boys want cuddles (hc)

warnings: none

characters: kageyama, oikawa, akaashi, kenma (setter squad)

authors note: here’s another headcanon post bc apparently this is how i’m spending my summer

requests are open!

this boy is so awkward pls help him

would rather die than ask for a hug

but….he really wants one

like its been a very long day and he wants one

so he tries to find you after school and when he finally spots you walking towards him smiling and waving

let’s just say his brain malfunctions kinda like it does at the mention of exams

how is he ever gonna ask now that you’re actually here?

he definitely didn’t think this far ahead seeing as he forgot he’d actually have to ask you

ya no

quickly turns around and begins briskly walking away

you catch up and grab his arm

the look on his face makes you pause and laugh

you know that face he makes when hinata misses his set at nationals because he was so excited about the jump?

this one

yeah i imagine it’s something like that

from that face alone you know he wants something that he doesn’t want to admit out loud

so you drag his ass to the side of the school where no one can see you two

“what is it?”

no way is he gonna answer that question

so he just kind of awkwardly stands there, tugging your sleeve and shuffling on his feet

you got the message

“come here then you big baby.” you open your arms for him

“HUH?” he yells but you pull him in for a hug, cutting him off 

he was instantly calm, though he did grumble slightly about not being a baby

buries his face in your shoulder

“you know, you don’t have to ask for hugs.” you remind him

does he know this? yes

is he ever gonna stop being awkward about it? probably not

i feel like oikawa would be an incredibly cuddly person so i don’t think asking for a hug is anything new to him

is probably very whiny vocal about his need for affection

slightly childish in the way he goes about asking

so when he sees you talking to your friends in the hall, he rushes up to you

“y/nnnnnnn”

“what now?”

“gimme a hug.”

“no please?”

“pleeaasseeee”

rolling your eyes, you apologise to your friends before being all but dragged away by this man child

of course you know that he was only like this in front of other people so when it was just the two of you alone, his attitude changes

he stands in front of you, kind of apologetic

“i’m quite stressed.” is all he says for you to get the message

ever the understanding partner, you quickly enveloped oikawa in an embrace, wondering just how far he’d pushed himself this time

you ran your fingers through his hair, trying to melt his stress away

“please try not to push yourself, i don’t want you collapsing on me again.”

oikawa doesn’t respond because he knows he won’t take your advice, he only hopes you’ll stay by his side regardless

is very good at knowing everyone’s wants and needs but when it comes to his own they’re a very low priority

would probably benefit from having a partner who is very attune to his feelings

he would be in class focusing on what the teacher was saying but he would also be quietly thinking how nice it would be to receive a hug from you after school

he had been studying nonstop and needed some kind of comfort and you were always his go to option whenever he needed a safe space

so he would seek you out after school, waiting patiently for you at the gates

it wasn’t uncommon for akaashi to walk you home like the gentleman he was so you weren’t really surprised to see him waiting

what did surprise you was when he asked if he could stay at your house for a bit

“don’t you have to study?”

yes akaashi would usually go straight home to study but he knew the importance of breaks and if he wanted to avoid a burnout then a few hours with you would do him the world of good

he didn’t have to tell you that he needed some comfort, you just knew

on the walk back to your house you would softly tell him about your day, anything to distract him from his stress

akaashi was a very good listener and knew exactly the right things to say to keep the conversation going

your stories were helping distract him, just like he knew they would

you excelled in calming him down

when you reached your house, you lead him to your room and quickly wrapped him in your arms

he sighed, already feeling much better

a calmness washed over him and he could never thank you enough for providing him with the security and comfort that he needed

though he promised that he would try to repay you

however long that takes

like kageyama, i feel like kenma would rather swim with sharks than ask for a hug

but this poor bby loves them so what is he to do

i feel like he would never admit it but he really really loves affection

seriously this would be something he takes to his grave

you would probably just have to be forward and take the initiative to start things because kenma would  n e v e r

he’s also very introverted so i feel like he would thrive being with someone extroverted but also not exhausting

this boy’s social battery runs out fast

but if you’ve been together for a while, his social battery won’t count for you

so when kenma finds himself quickly becoming exhausted, he kinda sticks by you a lot more 

you know his needs like the back of your hand so when you notice that he hangs by your side a lot more, you know this boy needs to recharge

preferably with games and affection though you knew he would never admit that last part

so you go back to his house after school

you both curl up in oversized comfy clothes (you leave a spare set at his house for times like these) (you have to because kenma is tiny and nothing of his would ever be oversized on you)

you both lie on his bed, his head on your chest, your fingers in his hair

his eyes close in relaxation 

he would never admit it but he really loves quiet cuddling sessions with you, they’re some of his favourite times/memories with you

you knew this so he never felt the need to voice it

but when you kiss the top of his head and whisper “i love you”

he gets really close

[alrightberries]

Hi! So like what if Levi & F!Reader are like cuddling, and Levi over slept (maybe misses a meetings?) and Eren and his squad have to go find him and they see Reader and Levi all cuddly and stuffs. AND THEN Levi become super pissed bc they went into his quarters without permission and blah blah blah (you can decide the rest lolll) basically crack, fluff and humor lol. Please& thank uuu

the short end of the stick

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: fluff, semi-crack ❈ word count: 3.3k

❈ summary: In which the 104th cadets were not prepared to find out that the terrifying and ever-intimidating Captain Levi... is a little spoon.

❈ trigger warnings: implied sex. brief mentions of blood and death. profanity

a/n: i made the reader gender neutral, hope y’all don’t mind. i had too much fun writing this and got kinda carried away. this is my first request ever and i’m glad that i finished it. enjoy!

Eren was shaking.

Sweat dripped down his forehead and his knuckles turned white from how hard he was clenching his fists, nails piercing his skin so harshly he swore it would draw blood. His heart angrily pumped inside his chest, every beat so strong he nearly anticipated for it to jump out of his ribcage at any given moment.

Fear.

He felt fear.

He puts a name to the feeling and it doesn’t make him feel any better. Ears ringing, lungs breathing rapidly as he tries to steady his fear-induced heart. He was hyperventilating. His eyebrows crease from his anxiousness and he feels his knees weaken, daring to give out beneath him. Was he actually shaking right now? He couldn’t even tell.

Vulnerable.

He felt vulnerable.

Eren had seen many horrors throughout his short lifetime. He saw the colossal titan rear its ugly head over Wall Maria as its foot smashed into the wall’s gates, debris flying throughout the district as a boulder crushed his home with his mother still inside. He saw his mother get snapped in half and eaten by a titan right before his very eyes at a tender age as he sat by and could do nothing but watch.

He was orphaned. Forced to grow up too soon, too fast just so he could say he survived. His entire district was left homeless, forced to become refugees as titans rampaged throughout the outer walls, forced plow the fields to combat the famine and hunger, forced to have 250,000 people go on what was essentually a suicide mission to appease the growing population.

He trained in the military. He trained for three gruesome years and had his physical and mental psyche crushed into dust beneath the boots of the commanding officer, only to be thrown into a battle—completely unprepared— with the titans once more before he could even graduate.

He saw his friends, his family, his brothers and sisters in arms get eaten. Killed. Murdered. Swatted away like flies by the very beasts he swore he’d kill.

And yet, nothing could prepare him for this.

Nothing could prepare him for the blood-pumping, adrenaline-induced terror at the mere thought of having to carry out his mission.

Nothing could prepare him for having to wake up Captain Levi from his nap.

Jean groaned. “Dammit, just fucking do it already.”

Eren is snapped out of his reverie, suddenly reminded that he wasn’t alone. His fellow soldiers stood behind him.

“Well if you’re so brave then why don’t you do it, horse-face?” He grits back, turning around and clenching his fists at his side.

He glimpses around the hallway and his eyes loom over his teammates’ amused faces, each painted with a shit-eating grin. Everyone was relieved that they weren’t the ones tagged with waking up the Captain from his nap.

Rumor around the base is, the last person from his original squadron (may they rest in peace) who had to wake up Captain Levi almost had his ear sliced off. Levi wasn’t even carrying any gear or anywhere near a knife.

One look at Mikasa told Eren that even she was glad she didn’t get picked for this task, and he shudders at the thought of being the poor bastard who had to lose his ear just so the Captain wouldn’t be late for his meeting. He quite liked having both of his ears attached to his head, thank you very much.

“It’s your task.”

“Yeah but why is it my task?!”

“Because you drew the short end of the stick, genius.” Jean replies easily.

Oh. Right.

“There has to be something we can do! Another plan. One that doesn’t involve waking up Captain Levi.” His eyes are pleading as he looks at his fellow soldiers, yet none of them seem willing to switch places with him.

Dammit. They were really going to make him work for it.

All his dignity is thrown out the window as Eren quickly gets on his knees and starts begging his friends, the shit-eating grins on their faces turning into wicked smiles as they watch him beg for mercy.

“Mikasa? What about you? Are you seriously going to let them send me to my death?” He asks, but Mikasa simply turns her head the other way as she speaks.

“He won’t kill you. Just sever your ear.”

Eren’s eye twitches.

She looks at him once more. “I’ll pick up your ear and ask the medical unit to sew it back on you. I’m sure they’ll understand.”

As proof, she holds up a glass jar and some tweezers. She had gloves on her hands.

God, he was going to kill his teammates.

Jean, apparently fed up with Eren’s incessant whining, marches towards him and grabs him by the collar, forcing him to stand up.

“Yeager, you trained in the military for three years. You’re a goddam titan shifter. You got kidnapped and held hostage. Three times. Waking up a growth-stunted man won’t be the last of you.”

Jean’s words are reassuring but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. No, his eyes are still amused. Very amused.

Scratch that, he wasn’t going to kill all his comrades. Just Jean. Jean and his extremely punchable horse-face.

Before he could even reply, Eren is shoved inside the Captain’s office with a quick “Off you go!” and the door is quickly shut behind him.

Fear.

This was truly fear.

Captain Levi’s office is empty, Eren notices. It’s spotless as always and tall shelves line every wall, each filled to the brim with books and documents. A lone door sits at the far right wall.

The Captain’s bedroom.

Slowly, with bathed breaths, he forces his legs to walk closer to the door that held his fate. Briefly, Eren thinks about getting some protective ear covers (just in case) but he quickly shoves that idea aside when he realizes that Jean and Conny were likely blocking the door from the outside.

That, and he concludes that the Captain would just break another part of his body. Maybe his hands. He didn’t need ears for handling ODM gear but he did need his hands.

“Captain?” Eren’s voice is weak but clear as he knocks on the door. “Captain Levi, you’re late for your meeting.”

He holds his breath for a few seconds, and there’s no response. He tries once more.

“Captain,” he repeats, louder this time. “Captain, you really need to wake up. Commander Erwin says your attendance is required for the meeting to start.”

But there’s still no response.

His hands are shaky and he’s still extremely nervous, but he knew Captain Levi’s presence was urgent to the meeting. Classified, Commander Erwin had said when he asked what it was about. 

The third time Eren repeats his fruitless endeavors, he realizes that Captain Levi really wasn’t waking up any time soon.

He runs back to the door he came in from.

“Let me out!” He yells, hands throttling the doorknob as he tries to pull the door open but just as he suspected, Jean and Conny are sealing the exit and pulling at the doorknob as well.

“Let me out, dammit! Captain Levi won’t wake up, I don’t wanna die— just let me out!”

His feet are pressed up against the wall at this point and he manages to yank the door open by a few mere inches. A quick glimpse outside confirms his worse fears: all his friends are holding onto the doorknob as well, trying to keep the door closed. Even Mikasa.

He’d never felt so betrayed.

“You got this Eren!” His eyes drift to the back of the group where Sasha was smiling at him with a cheeky grin. “I’m sure the Captain won’t hurt you too badly when you wake him up.”

“No, fuck that! He’ll murder me and say it was because I went ape shit in titan form. He won’t even get arrested!”

It was when he made eye contact with Mikasa when he realized what true betrayal felt like.

“Good luck, Eren.” “No, don’t—!” Mikasa yanks the door close with one strong pull and he falls to the floor, on his ass.

The room is quite once more (save for the cheeky giggles on the other side of the door) and Eren brushes himself off as he stands up. He eyes the door to the Captain’s bedroom and he breathes in deeply when he comes to terms with what he has to do to wake the Captain from his deep slumber. He has to go inside.

He finds himself in front of the door once again, and this time his knocks are a little louder, a little more unsure, as he speaks. “Captain? I don’t think you’re waking up soon. I’m coming in.”

Slowly, he tells himself. Slowly.

Eren wasn’t sure what to expect when he opened the door to Captain Levi’s quarters. Maybe a torture chamber. Maybe swords and skeletons on the wall. Maybe a book on How To Murder With One Glare on a coffee table. He didn’t know.

But oddly, he thinks as he glances around, the Captain’s bedroom is... normal. The room’s dark, with its curtains drawn and the candles unlit. Tall shelves holding an impressive collection of books still line a portion of the walls. A bed is pressed up against the wall opposite the door, and there are two lumps underneath the blankets—

Wait.

Two lumps.

Two.

Captain Levi’s in bed with someone?

“Captain Levi,” Eren quietly calls out. He wonders who the hell managed to catch the Captain’s attention... or if someone even caught his attention at all. Captain Levi could just be hugging a pillow, he reasons. But Eren’s curiosity overtakes his fears and his legs start to walk closer towards the bed. “Captain?”

The blanket was pulled over the two sleeping lumps, and Eren gently tugs it down to reveal their faces.

No way.

No fucking way.

Briefly, Eren is speechless. His words get caught in his throat, hand frozen mid-air as he marvels at the sight of Humanity’s Strongest Soldier cuddled up within the arms of his lover. His normally stoic face is gone, replaced by relaxed eyes and a slightly ajar mouth, one cheek puffed up as it’s squished into his lover’s chest and his head is nuzzled into the crook of their neck. His arms disappear underneath the blankets, but judging by the fact that his lover’s arms were around him, Eren surmised that the Captain’s arms were most likely wrapped around his lover as well.

He looked innocent— cute, almost, and if Eren didn’t have to train under him everyday he might have actually believed that the Captain’s innocent sleeping face could be taken at face value.

Eren recognizes you, as well. He’s seen you around the base with your own squadron, an elite soldier with your own team of other elite soldiers. You’re known around the base as the squad leader who works their team to the ground, training your members so hard that they genuinely considered going to Captain Levi for comfort. But it wasn’t for naught, of course. Your squad’s survived longer than Captain Levi’s (again, may they rest in peace), barely making it out complete when the fiasco with the Female Titan occurred.

“Oi, Eren.” A voice behind him speaks, and Eren is briefly caught off guard as he turns around and makes eye contact with his comrades. Most likely, they got impatient with waiting for him and decided to see if he’d been murdered already.

Great, so now they decide they weren’t scared of going inside the Captain’s room.

“What’s taking so long?” Jean asks.

Eren is still speechless, opting to instead shakily point his finger towards the bed where Levi lay wrapped in your arms.

“H-he’s... he’s—“ “He’s what?”

He gulps and sighs deeply, speaking out so quietly his friends almost didn’t hear, speaking out in a mere shaky whisper as he utters his words.

“He’s a little spoon.”

Chaos is what Eren would use to describe what happened next. His comrades immediately jumped to stand next to him and take a look at the sight on bed, crowding around them as if they were a soap opera.

“Oh my god, he looks so...” Sasha starts in awe, hands on her cheeks and stars in her eyes but unsure how to finish her words.

Eren nods his head, understanding her speechlessness. “Innocent.”

Silently, his friends nod as well. But he couldn’t just stand here and gawk at Captain Levi’s sleeping form, he came here with a mission. “We need to wake him up. He’s already really late.” He says, more to himself than to his friends. He doesn’t wait for his comrades to exit the room as he gently places a hand on the Captain’s shoulders to shake him awake.

“Captain Levi—“

Eren learns his mistake too late as Levi’s eyes immediately snap open, hand clamping down on Eren’s and twisting it behind his back to disarm him.

“Eren!” Mikasa yells behind him, making a move to free him from Levi’s iron clad grip. From the corner of his eyes, Eren sees the person lying down next to Levi quickly sit up and throw something silver, flying past his comrades and towards Mikasa’s head, embedding itself deep within the wood next to her face.

Eren stares at his friends, all silent, frozen with fear, and rooted to their spots as their mouths hang open.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Levi sneers, pushing down on Eren’s arm.

“C-captain, you’re late for the—“ “Holy shit, we’re late for the meeting.” You cut in, eyes wide in realization.

The Captain briefly glimpses at you and clicks his tongue as he releases Eren from his grip, the young soldier immediately slumping to the ground in relief. His arms and legs felt like jello and he could already feel himself melting into the wooden floor.

“Can someone explain to me why you brats thought it would be a good idea to enter my private quarters?” Levi glares. “Without my permission?”

Oh shit. They didn’t think this through.

A cold shiver runs down the soldier’s spines as they unanimously realize their mistake, something that Eren undoubtedly would’ve felt as well if he wasn’t too busy gawking at the realization that Captain Levi was shirtless (probably naked underneath the sheets), and you were shirtless as well (also probably naked underneath the sheets).

Levi catches Eren’s eyes staring at you, and he silently pulls the blanket over your chest and up to your collarbones without breaking his glare at the cadets.

Fuck. Eren thinks, eyes snapping to the ground as a blush creeps up his neck. Captain Levi’s definitely going to cut off both my ears now.

Conny, apparently already cracking under the pressure, flails his arms and yells as he tries to make a run for the door. Before anyone could even blink, another silver blur whizzes through the air, stabbing the wood directly in front of Conny as he freezes.

It was a knife. A fucking butter knife. Why the hell the Captain and his lover keep a butterknife next to them on the bed is something Eren doesn’t want to know.

“Since none of you lot have tongues,” Levi speaks. He’s not going to get an explanation soon. “We’ll discuss punishment later. For now,” He stands up, grabbing a still flustered Eren by the collar and dragging him towards the door, pushing out the rest of the team as well.

Eren doesn’t have time to be relieved about the fact that Captain Levi was not, for a fact, naked and was wearing black boxers. He was too busy getting pushed out the Captain’s bedroom and dragged through the office before finally getting thrown out into the hallway.

“For now, you leave me alone. I have a meeting to attend to.”

Levi slams the door shut at his awestruck soldiers, breathing in a frustrated sigh as he rests his hand on his forehead. He was getting a headache. He feels arms wrap around him from behind, hands resting on his chest. He sighs once more, this time in content, as he leans into your touch.

“Hey,” you kiss neck. “Thought you said you locked the door.”

“I did.” He turns around, still in your arms, and gently places his hands on your face as he kisses your nose. “Someone must’ve accidentally unlocked it when they were trying to grab onto something. Y’know, when they were getting fucked from behind.”

You chuckle. “Well, I’m sure that someone probably got sweet talked into getting fucked against the door.”

You break away from his arms after giving him a kiss, making your way back inside Levi’s bedroom, no doubt to get dressed for the meeting.

He stares at you as you walk, still naked and looking gorgeous. His face may be stoic but his heart was leaping, the gold ring on your left hand that matched his own glimmering in the light.

Your head peaks out from behind his bedroom door. “Round two before the meeting?” You ask cheekily.

Levi rolls his eyes as he makes his way to the bedroom as well, patting your bum as he passes by. “No. We’re already late.”

Eren clutches the pillow to his head, exhausted from the laps he’d done. He glances around the room, eyeing the tired faces of his comrades.

As punishment for invading your privacy, Captain Levi assigned them laps around the base until sundown plus two weeks of stable duty. As punishment for invading his privacy, Captain Levi deemed them unworthy of having their own private space and made the entire squadron bunk together in the small room beside his own. 

Well, the entire squadron except for the Captain himself, at least.

Eren was pretty sure the room they were made to sleep in indefinitely was supposed to be a supply closet of some kind, but it fitted enough bunk beds for the entire team and was deemed a worthy location to carry out the rest of their punishment.

“How long do we have to sleep here?” Sasha asked dreadfully, hands covering her ears in attempts to block out the noises coming from the other room. The sound of a squeaky mattress and a wooden bed slamming against the adjacent wall continued.

“Until we learn our lesson,” Jean quotes the Captain. He himself looked extremely tired but he wasn’t trying to cover his ears like the rest of them were, undoubtedly because he’d already given up on getting a good night’s rest if the bags underneath his eyes were anything to go by.

“I don’t even care how long we have to sleep here anymore.” Conny interjects tiredly. “I just want to know when they’ll ever stop.”

As if to prove his point, a moan is heard through the walls. The soldiers flinch, still not accustomed to the sound. Mikasa silently runs her hands through Eren’s hair to calm him down.

“They’ve been at it for hours,” Jean whispers in horror. “How much stamina do those two have?”

Armin sighs, the bags under his eyes feeling heavier by the second. “They’re elite soldiers who’ve trained for years. They have more stamina than all of us combined.”

The whole room heaves out a collective groan, finally accepting that they weren’t getting any sleep tonight. 

In the other room, Captain Levi bangs his fist against the shared wall. “Oi,” he calls out. “Shut up, you brats. We can hear you.”

Levi thrusts his hips, eyes glancing down at your pleasure-struck face as he grinds into you more. The action causes you to throw your head back and let out a desperate moan, finger nails scratch down his back. He grabs your hands to pin them to the sides of your head, leaning down to whisper “Not too harsh, darling. We don’t want you leaving marks now, do we?” He continues his pace, the bed’s wooden frame slamming against the wall as he once again speaks to his soldiers.

“We have thin walls, y’know.”

alrightberries © 2020. do not modify or repost.

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[violettelueur]

RYŌMEN SUKUNA || LITTLE CAGED ARTIST

| featuring : ryomen sukuna ft. itadori yuji 

| warnings : mention of emotional abuse and murder as well as grammar errors

| form : imagine

| word count : 1691

| published : 22 december

| request : Hello, idk if your request are open but feel free to ignore, but just, imagine another reencarnation au (those imaginw of yours are my favourite) where the reader was a painter and Sukuna's personal favourite so he took her and kinda abused her psycologicaly to the point where she would just draw him and only him and he loved that, and in the future she's still an artist that draws Yuuji bc theyre friends but when she sees the tatoos she again draws Sukuna and he feels guilty for the way he treated her and her art in the pastIf It's angst i would apreciate but it's not really necesary

| barista’s notes : hi there~ i apologies for the extremely long wait for your coffee order but now it is there ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ right now it is nearly 5am in the morning and i have no idea why the hell i am awake, but oh well ʕ ᵒ ᴥ ᵒʔ  DONT WORRY THOUGH! after this, i am going to sleep and rest up since today it is Fushiguro Megumi’s and Kageyama Tobio’s birthday today ʕ≧ᴥ≦ʔ but other than that, i hope you enjoy your order of a cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and i hope you come back soon! ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆

“Sukuna….please leave me alone...leave the village alone, I beg of you please,” you whimpered to the man that was standing tall and proud with a sadistic smirk painted on his face, while you were on your knees tightly holding onto his large wrist - somewhat slightly covering the black ring marking - as if your weak physical strength could do anything to stop his raising them up and giving a rain upon hell to the people that was residing in the small town you lived in.

You have no idea how you had managed to catch the attention of the most feared curse to both humans and jujutsu sorcerers nor did you know how you managed to become acquainted with the man in front of you. All you knew right now was that the situation you were in at this current moment and time, was not ideal to anyone at all.

You were just a simple artist. A simple village girl artist that was blessed to be hired by the nobility and aristocracy to paint their family portraits with the finest colours that they would offer you, for you to be then paid so you could provide for your village. However, as luxurious as it sounded, you were in love with the idea of just placing a sharped piece of charcoal on a piece of paper or cloth you could find anywhere and sketch your heart designed.

“Leave you alone?” Sukuna questioned you in his deep voice, before slowly crouching down to become face to face with you. “I could never leave you alone, not when you have caught my attention with your craft little one,” Sukuna then stated, as he gently placed a hand on your cheek before using his thumb to caress the soft skin he was touching. 

Ever since Sukuna had caught sight of you delicately painting a portrait of a noblewoman with such care and gentleness, he couldn’t help but wonder how your hands were so carefully and how patient you were to make sure every stroke was perfect to your desire. Slowly, he began to wonder what it was like to be the subject of one's view. A subject that someone desired to recreate on a simple piece of paper. However, compared to his past sightings, you were the most talented as well as the most beautiful he had ever seen and once he was able to gain a clear view of the noble woman that you were illustration, he was surprised at how much detail you were able to encapture in your work and just like the noble woman’s reaction, they both were extremely happy with the result of the final product.

“How about this?” Sukuna suddenly asked, causing your head to suddenly shot up leading you to meet eye to eye with the King of Curses, “if you come with me and draw me and me only for the rest of time, I would leave this little village alone as well as the people residing in it. How does that sound, little one?”

‘Come with him? Where? Why? What’s going to happen to me?’

“If you don’t accept this deal, every single person here will die. Burned, stabbed, slashed, any way possible I can. Men, women and even little children’s lives will be gone, and it would be all your fault.”

‘My….fault? But-’

“You know I’m not a patient person little one, I might as well start my massacre while you take your time to think, it will be-”

“NO PLEASE! DON’T, YOU CAN TAKE ME, JUST LEAVE THE VILLAGE ALONE, PLEASE!” you screamed in desperation, as you tighten the grip of his wrist that was within your grasp to keep him down, as you didn’t want to risk him getting away from your sights for the safety and protection of the people  within the little town you had lived in since the day your life had started.

With a large cruel grin, Sukuna had somehow managed to pry his wrists free from your tense grip before sliding an arm under your knees as well as an arm around your body lifting you up in a bridal position, while you were just expressing a face of shock and fear, confused and fearful on what you had just accepted in exchange for your life. Where were you going? Was this the end? Were you going to die? How much longer have you had left?

“Don’t worry, I won’t kill you, you’re too precious to be slaughtered little one,” Sukuna answered - as if he knew what you were thinking - before placing a ghostly kiss upon your temple leading you to freeze still, petrified on what he would do with you had moved a single inch.

This was your life now. 

A caged artist.

                                               ꕥ

Here you were, sitting on a wooden platform outside with a sharpened piece of charcoal that Sukuna had kindly given you, in order for you to sketch a portrait of him. The second you placed the charcoal upon the paper, Sukuna couldn’t help but stare at the light movements of your hand as you lightly stroke a few lines to create an outline before watching your hand suddenly pause, causing the King of Curses to switch his view from the sheet to you, only to find your look at him with such a frightened look.

“I’m sorry…..I shouldn’t look at you, should I? I apologise deeply,” you softly muttered before quickly turning back to the portrait that was right in front of you - you didn’t want to do anything wrong in his eyes, you knew he could go back on his words and harm the people that you cared about. However, it seemed like Sukuna didn’t care at all, he had managed to trap you into his life and had the power to demand you to draw him every time he would mention he could go back to your little village and burn it to the ground. He relished in the idea of being the subject of your attention.

This is what he wanted. 

His little caged artist.

                                               ꕥ

1000 years later and here you were. 

Here you were sketching a picture of your best-friend Itadori with a picture of him that you had managed to capture on your phone. Itadori first came into your life shortly after you had enrolled into Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Techincal College around the same time as your other classmate Kugisaki did. 

You have no idea what drew you into the boy with the pink hair, but something within you pulled you towards him causing the blooming and somewhat hilarious friendship to start, even causing Fushiguro and Kugisaki to wonder what was going on in your mind to somehow relate to the boy - yet, they didn’t mention their questions since they didn’t really think you knew the answer yourself, and they were correct.

However, as you continued to smoothly glide your pencil across the page, applying different pressures to construct some definitions as well as shadows within the photo you were copying from, you began to suddenly realise that you were starting to draw marking upon his portrait. Markings that were so familiar to the ones the person within him had.

Ever since that day at the Eishu Detention Centre, the sight of Sukuna standing in front of you with his shirt ripped off showcasing his black marking caused a trigger of unknown memories to suddenly flood into your mind, causing excruciating pain that was so unbearable, you thought you were going to pass out from the intense pressure, maybe as even close to dying from the immense pain.

From what you could even recall from the sudden flood of blurry images that appeared in your mind, there was a picture of you drawing with a piece of charcoal with the infamous King of Curses seating right beside you, watching you draw will whispering in your ear the threats that he would bombard you in order for you to make sure that you were only drawing him and him only.

Slowly but in a shaking manner, your drawing hand continued to sketch in Sukuna’s markings that would appear on Itadori’s body as you were somewhat extremely afraid of what the King of Curses could do to you if you didn’t - just how you left 1000 years ago.

Although unknown to you, your best-friend Itadori was standing right behind you, having a clear view of what was happening to you as well as the drawing right in front of him. Seeing your shaking figure with slow but clear teardrops landing on the sketch book as well as the drawing evolving from him to the curse residing inside of him, made him realise how damaging Sukuna was to not only him but also to the people around him. Carefully, Itadori placed a hand over your hand that held the pencil, causing you to flinch before finally noticing that it was your friend that was holding it and not the special grade curse.

Within his Innate Domain, Sukuna also had a clear view on what was happening to you and slowly but strangely began to feel something drop to his stomach with the feeling of his throat closing up at the sight of you slowly breaking down into a small state of insanity. This isn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want his beautiful little one to become lifeless and paranoid like you were now.

Even after 1000 years after your death, your incarnation was carrying the feeling of fear, despair and numbness that you were weighed upon the second you had given your life away to the King of Curses for the sake of your village. Even though you had more freedom then you did then, you still left trapped and lost within the metal cage that Sukuna had enclosed you in. Even with the small hint of guilt that was manifested within the cruel curse’s heart. 

You were trapped with no escape out.

You were trapped forever with no key to open the door that was clearly right in front of you.

Forever his little caged artist.

[haztory]

hi mcdonald’s can i get uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh nanami + “nice tits”

“Nice tits.” from my writing event that ends today! 

 warnings: adult language and sexual themes, but that’s about it!

a/n: 3k words all for sanju that probably strays from the prompts but its fine bc i love you biiiiitch. thanks to everyone that requested a prompt! they will be out momentarily!!

nanami kento x gn!reader

There’s a universal understanding amongst the adults in the general realm of well-formed maturity and a sense of responsibility that there is no situation to ever exist in which listening to Gojo Satoru’s advice is a viable option. 

Much less any advice about love.

“You know,” His voice sings to your left, interrupting the tranquil silence of your office by his surprise warping, “If you needed help in satisfying your urges, you only had to ask. Looking at porn during school hours is a bit of a cry for help, (Y/N).”

“Go away, Gojo.” You reply, hardly perturbed at his unannounced visit and continuing the matter at hand. Your index finger continues its motions, pushing the wheel of the mouse downwards and studying the plethora of Google Search images the float past your eyes on your computer monitor.

Gojo leans his elbow on your desk, perching himself on the left side of your body, “Hey, I don’t judge! I’ve done it once or twice myself. I just always pictured you as more of an ass-person.”

Landing on an appropriate image for your task you click it, enlarging it on your screen. Gojo whistles.

“Now that’s just obscene, isn’t it?”

A finger enters your line of sight, pointing itself obnoxiously at the screen, specifically at the rather large pectoral belonging to that of a male model. An image that is necessary for your study of a new cursed technique that you witnessed on your last excursion with Nobara, and not at all the focus of sexual release as Gojo might insist. Even if they are rather admirable in their size. 

You would rather die before ever telling him that, though.

“They should really put a warning on those honkers—”

“Is there a reason you’re bothering me?” You ask bluntly, printing the image and retrieving it from the printer tray beside you.

“I just wanted to see what my second favorite teacher was doing, but never did I think I would catch you in the act of making a shrine to tits, so—”

You roll your head to the left, meeting Gojo’s shit-eating grin with a deadpan stare. With a sigh, you shake your head, “I’m studying.”

Even beneath the blindfold, you can see the waggle in his brows as he props his head on the bent elbow. “Oh suuure.”

Huffing impatiently, you swivel your desk chair to face him, placing a singular finger on his chest to push him back from your immediate space. He only continues to grin in his usual unabashed manner, as though he’s caught you red-handed. It makes you roll your eyes once more.

 You didn’t need to explain yourself; it wasn’t like you were doing anything immoral. Sure, staring at a number of pectoral muscles might seem inappropriate to the passing eye, but it was easily explainable. 

But as it always is with Gojo, he manages to rub that small part of you that just has to fight back. Fuckin’ prick. “We came across a cursed technique two days ago that targeted the chest. It caused—”

Gojo waves his hand in your face, “Seismic tremors in the pectoral muscles that affected a cursed energy point, yeah, yeah. Nobara told me all about it.”

“If you knew what I was doing why are you making me sound like such a creep?!” You exclaim, kicking his chest with the heel of your shoe. He catches your foot with a laugh, dropping it and holding his index finger upward.

“Because it’s fun to tease you.”

Huffing, you turn back to your monitor and point at the door, “Leave.”

“Oh, come onnn,” He warps in front of your computer, leaning himself over the top of the screen, “I’ve brought you a little gift of knowledge to help your studying.”

Even as he desperately tries to insert his gangly arms into your line of vision, you continue typing into the search bar. Some variations of “pectoral”, “muscles”, and “large men”. For research purposes, of course.

“Oh yeah?” You ask noncommittally, knowing full well the manner in which Gojo dangles his plots of mischief disguised as help, “And what would that be?”

Smiling largely once more, he lets out a giggle, “The larger the muscle, the more potent the attack on the cursed energy.”

Sparing him a quick glance, you mumble, “Doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.”

“No, but it does take a genius to figure out how to reverse the effects.”

He stops the statement there; grin audible in his words. After having spent years in the presence of the obnoxious Gojo Satoru, you already know there’s an ulterior motive to his words, something that is going to bite you in the ass rather aggressively.

And as much as you want to avoid being in the line of fire, especially the one directed by him, you’re simultaneously dying to know where this is going.

You hesitate to ask, but it comes out. Dripping in all of its cautiousness. “And?”

“And it also takes a willing participant to study.” His smile, in all impossibility, became even wider.

“I’m still not getting the picture.”

“A participant with rather large pectoral muscles.”

Oh.

Oh no.

“Someone who would willingly participate for the sake of education.”

Of all the people to have figured out about your (not so) little crush on a fellow sorcerer, it had to be the world’s largest idiot and nuisance. You had to end this, now. Before he does something so irrevocably stupid— 

“Shall we go ask Nanami?”

And that’s how you find yourself flushed with absolute mortification, gripping your clipboard with tight knuckles against your chest, wondering how you ever managed to forget the utmost important rule when it comes to Gojo Satoru.

Never listen to him, especially on the matter of love. 

Maybe that’s indicative of the state of your crush as a whole, something you should probably pay more attention to, seeing as the minute Nanami Kento was mentioned, you’ve forgotten the extent of logic and reason and followed the whims of Gojo without hesitation. 

It’s problematic, horrifying, and ultimately a monumental issue at the moment considering your mouth is as dry as a desert and your brain absolute mush, rendering you completely unable to formulate any words.

“Wow, Nanami,” Gojo shamelessly says, one hand shoved in his pocket as he stands beside your frozen figure, “Nice tits.”

Nanami hums unenthusiastically, unbuttoning the last button on his blue shirt and elegantly removing it from his large, muscular frame. Folding it neatly on the expanse of the couch beside him, he turns his stoic gaze back to you, hardly even concerned about his half-nakedness. 

Whereas you felt yourself almost drooling at the revealed expanse of firm muscles peppered with sparse hair. The fact that it was that easy to get to see this, to almost be able to touch it— 

Maybe listening to Gojo isn’t a bad idea after all.

“Shall we begin?” Nanami asks, pulling his glasses off of his face with his (large) hands and folding them on top of his shirt. A strand of blond falls onto the front of his face and his gaze trails from the impassive stare at Gojo, to you. 

And by all that is sweet and holy you swear that you’ve ascended to an ethereal plane and before you sits an angel waiting to take you to the pearly gates. No longer stares a man unamused at the teasing of the white-headed idiot beside you, but instead a celestial being with a body made of pure stone and dare you say, looking at you with a tenderness in his gaze that was absent only a moment before.

An elbow digs into your side, pulling you rather dramatically out of your stupor and towards the smug grin of the man beside you. 

“Well?” Gojo asks, “If you’re not going to touch him, I will.”

“Thank you, Gojo, but I can take it from here,” You all but hiss, pushing him once more away from your body, accompanying the action with a pointed glare. Beginning a backward trek towards the door, he holds his hands up in surrender.

“Alright, alright. I can see when I’m not wanted. I’ll be back in half an hour.”

Opening the door and stepping out of it, he halts, turning his head to look over his shoulder and says, voice coated in that familiar tone of teasing, “Remember to use condoms, lovebirds!”

He shuts the door quickly, hardly giving you a chance to spear your ire at his retreating figure, but you have half a mind to chase him down the hall when you hear his echoing laughter ring out. 

An awkward silence settles between you and the man of your horrid fascination that not even an uncomfortable laugh can ease. Clearing your throat and trying to remember your sense of professionalism, you straighten your shoulders and take a deep breath, facing the handsome man with a confidence that was growing incredibly difficult to face. 

“I’m going to touch you. For research. Your chest, specifically.”

In a move you’ve never quite seen before, Nanami sheds that formidable air of quiet stoicism and lets a small smile grace the features of his face. It gently pushes against the corners of his mouth and his bare shoulders move the slightest bit with the exhalation of his amused breath. 

“For the tremors in the pectoralis.” He says, leaning his body to rest against the backing of the couch, straightening his legs wearing their usual tan slacks to rest naturally in the position and hands folding in his lap. 

You gulp. “Y-yes.”

“I read your report.”

“You did?”

“I always do,” With his eyes still trained upon yours you can see them widen a bit at the realization of what he’s said as if that were an intimate detail he hadn’t meant to make you aware of. He quickly brings his fist up to his mouth, clearing his throat, “You are one of the few sorcerers here that fill them out correctly. I learn a great deal from your detailing. It’s… very helpful. You’re very thorough.”

Blinking repeatedly, you only nod at the compliment. Despite wanting to combust internally at the growing flames that burn inside of you, you take a step forward. Then another until, in an unforeseen reversal of circumstances, you’re towering over the man of great strength and respect. The man you’ve admired for the longest time.

The man that continues to stare at you with a softness you’ve never seen him reveal before. 

You can see the spattering of freckles that have intricately placed themselves over his broad shoulders resembling that of an artistic constellation and the delicious protruding of his biceps, great in mass yet telling of his of strength as your try to conservatively trail your eyes over his torso.

He’s beautiful, incredibly so. Baring himself to you in this way only affirms that.

 “Thank you,” you breathe out, and it’s more intimate than you intended it to be, but truthfully, it’s as fitting a phrase as it can be considering the proximity and the intensity behind his stare.

It’s all you can give him without crumbling at his feet. Placing your fingertips against his shoulder, you gently push him back, silently instructing him to lay on the couch. He follows suit like the dutiful sorcerer he is.

“I’ll just be examining the way in which your cursed energy extends from your chest. It shouldn’t hurt, but if you feel uncomfortable, just let me know.”

He hums once more from his supine position on the couch. Despite being much larger than the couch allows, he hardly looks uncomfortable. Only watches the way in which you press your fingers into his chest, pushing into his muscle and slowly massaging your finger in a circle. You circle around the left side, trailing around the outer edge of the muscle and above the rib cage, stopping and pressing rather firmly when you feel a surge in an energy presence beneath the skin. Almost on the center of his chest.

You snort a quiet laugh when you realize where it is.

“Should I be worried?” His deep timbre vibrates your indented fingers drawing your focus to his interested stare. He looks relaxed, the usual crease between his brow hardly recognizable. A stark refute to the question he posed.

You quickly shake your head, smiling growing wryer, “No, not at all. I just… think it’s funny that your energy presence is strongest where your heart is.”

Nanami quirks an eyebrow, “Isn’t that the same for everyone?”

“Would it be much of a surprise if I told you Gojo’s comes from his mouth?”

Nanami rolls his head, a breathless laugh exhaling as he stares at the ceiling. “No, I guess it wouldn’t.”

“Everyone has a different point from which their energy roots itself. Each one gives a different feeling of sorts. It doesn’t really mean much in terms of power and technique, but it is noticeable. You have an overwhelming presence as is, I just…” Your shoulders drop with a sigh, one stemming desperately from loving admiration and instead try to disguise as just an exhalation, “…never realized it came from there. Kind of fitting if you ask me.”

His brows furrow in contemplation, unsure if whether he could accept the statement. Unsure of whether it was a fitting examination or compliment for him. He must deem it something insignificant of his ponderance because he quickly moves on.

“And yours?” He asks, alight with curiosity, “Where does yours come from?”

You hum, grateful to finally shed the last remnants of awkwardness and engage in the usual friendly conversation you tend to have with him. The brief discussions that always prod a little too close for friendly discovery, but never breach the line of professional respect. That self-imposed limitation that you desperately wish he’ll cross, that this conversation is once again coming toward.

“Take a guess.” Allowing that lilting tease to infiltrate your words, you watch as Nanami adjusts himself on the couch. Bracing his arms against the cushion, he pushes himself into a sitting position and crosses his arms. Trailing his eyes over your seated body next to him, he leaves a burning trail in his wake.

He fixates on your face for a second and your breath hitches, before he travels downward over the column of your neck, then your chest, to your legs. Drinking you in as per your consent and request. Then, he extends his hand. Palm facing upwards in a silent request. You understand.

Placing your own hand in his, he turns your hand upward, allowing full access to the center of your hand and tracing his finger over the lines.

“Your hands. That’s your center.” He says with finality, monotonous but confident. With a small smirk, he looks up at you, “You are a healer after all.”

You give a small nod, “I’m not sure if it comes from my fingertips or my palm, but yeah. My hands.”

Looking back down at your hand in his, he traces the finger in a circle, “Palm. That’s where I feel it the most.”

“What does it feel like?” You ask with a laugh, expecting something asinine and noncommittal considering Yuuji once said your presence felt like a cool wind on a summer’s day and Nobara insists that it feels like a warm shower.

Two entirely opposite feelings, yet somehow categorized in the schema of comfort. You hardly expect Nanami to give something so introspective, nor anything that reveals too much considering the extent to which he tends to maintain the boundary of respect in the conversations of explorations. The kind in which two people teeter on the thin ice of interest, yet never voice it.

And yet, his eyes connect with yours again, and it's entirely too overwhelming for you to process. Too interested, too warm. His face betrays no nervousness nor any hesitation as he stares, entirely convinced that this is what was meant to happen. As though he knew from the moment Gojo asked that it was going to unfold this way.

Like he prepared for it. Like he decided today was the day that he crossed that line.

“Home. Warm and comforting.”

Slow heat the creeps its way up your spine that makes your brain halt thought altogether and sputter intelligently, “Gojo’s kind of feels like… tar. Thick tar. Super gross.”

His hand, large and warm, encompasses your hand once more, lays it flat against his chest to feel both his exuding energy and the steady beat of his formidable heart.

“And mine?” He asks, low and gravelly. Like sweet honey that has you captured entirely, unable to escape. Not like you want to. No, you’d rather drown in this overwhelming redolence than ever live without it.

You don’t even realize your breathing heavily, nor that his face has gotten closer to yours. When did he move there? Did you move there?

Either way, his face is in front of yours, noses almost touching and the compulsion to answer him on the tip of your tongue.

“Addicting,” you whisper.

And then his lips are on yours, molding sweetly into you, and it's everything you have ever imagined it to be. Slow, yet firm. Warm and craving, and you can only fight for more, more, more.

His hand moves to the back of your neck, pulling you in impossibly closer and you place your hands on his bare chest, the great reason as to your current predicament entirely, to steady yourself and your erratic heartbeat. Time seems to slow in the passion of his kiss, and yet when he parts for air, you feel as though you only had him for a second.

All the months of pining could barely make up for that singular moment.

“I’ve been meaning to do that for a while,” He says, leaning his forehead against yours, breath fanning over your aching lips. You scoff in laughter, meeting his smile with one of your own.

So, maybe, just maybe, listening to Gojo wasn’t a bad idea. And maybe, sometimes, he’s right about some things.

“Hey Kento?”

“Yes?”

“You really do have nice tits.”

“Likewise.”

[amimimi]

joe and cherry taking care of their drunk s/o

synopsis: in which joe and cherry take care of your drunk ass

pairings: joe x reader, cherry x reader

warnings: drinking, getting sick, suggestive themes, swearing, slight spoilers in joe’s part

notes: i separated the joe and cherry head canons from the langa and reki ones because I thought I was gonna make these a lot more suggestive,,,but i did not 🤥 i apologize in advance for any grammatical/spelling errors!

JOE

will laugh at you

in a good natured way, of course

he just thinks you’re so cute, he can’t get enough of you

joe and you go bar hopping for date night this week, which y’all have done in the past so it’s nothing too crazy

except this time around, you overdo it 😗

and joe thinks it’s the most endearing thing as you cling onto his biceps as you sway on your feet

he holds you by your elbows, grinning down at you as you blearily smile up at him

you both are standing near the dance floor, as you struggle to maintain your footing

“you good?” he calls over the music and you nod slowly, grinning even harder

“yea! you’re a great dancer!” you shout back at him and joe chuckles

“we aren’t dancing, baby cakes” he says, giving your elbows a squeeze

you frown

“oh...i knew that! i meant in general...” you murmur, eyes struggling to stay open.

joe purses his lip at you, before wrapping his arms around your waist. “i think you need some air, babe” he suggests and you nod sluggishly

guides you outside the bar and takes you across the street

the crisp night air doesn’t help you out all that much

you get sick and joe can’t even hold your hair back because he has to hold you to keep you from falling face forward

“okay, babe, let’s get you home” joe chuckles,

not even one bit worried

has a lot of experience with drinking/drunk people up his sleeve

honestly maybe the best person to care for you while you’re drunk

joe doesn’t panic or even if he IS concerned, he’s good at keeping a straight face (i’m thinking of the episode when ad*m hits cherry in the face and he’s the only one who doesn’t flinch)

he takes you in his swole arms (that man is built like an ox 😩) and carries you bridal style all the way home

entertains your babbling and carries a conversation with you no matter how nonsensical it is

if you think you see someone even looking at joe, you try cussing them out msnxjshwdghd

and joe’s like “haha, darling, my sweet dove, ☺️” and then turns to whoever you’re cussing out and says “they’re drunk, sorry about that!”

joe definitely takes you to his place

makes you take a shower! but he showers with you because he doesn’t want you to fall and break your nose or something

stands behind you, with his arms wrapped around you for support

rubs a loofah down your arms and torso

every now and then he’ll press a kiss against the side of your neck <3

joe wraps you in a towel and gently dries you with another towel

he makes you sit on his closed toilet seat and kneels before you to dry your legs with a smaller towel

he glances up at you to see you staring at him, slightly swaying and wrapped in a towel

“you like watching me work, don’t you?” he smirks

“i like watching your back” you reply, the alcohol numbing your shame and joe laughs at you

makes you brush your teeth

he places a hand over your forehead and holds you up by your arm as you brush

joe: “are you...are you swallowing the tooth paste??”

you: “...no...not on purpose”

okay, joe maybe slightly concerned

pulls one of his shirts over your head and laughs when your hair gets messed up

when you finally get in bed, you sleep in between joe’s legs with your head resting on his naked chest, arms wrapped around you

doesn’t mind if you drool on him <3 he just fondly smiles at you

CHERRY

HE IS NOT HERE FOR IT SKDUSKSJDJD

does not like being around drunk people—like he avoids it with a passion

someone he knows could be drunk as helll and he’d just be like “...and what the f*ck does that gotta do with me?”

obviously he won’t let anyone DIE, but prefers to take preventative action such as cutting someone off from having any more drinks than to deal with their drunk asses

and obviously, he’ll make an exception for you 😙

he’s not impressed tho 😗

like if your tipsy, he may find that endearing

but if you’re like—DRUNK DRUNK, like belligerently so...he’s gonna be like “*sigh*”

you probably don’t get drunk in public when you’re out with him to preserve his the respect of his business

so he’s probably having a night in, no S, no dinner with joe

he’s catching up on reading when his doorbell rings and he’s like “??”

cherry goes to peek out the peephole and — holy shit is that you? and who’s standing next to you??

he opens the door to see you, drunk off your ass, and barely standing on your own as you friend wraps their arm around you for support

when you see cherry, you perk up and smile “kaoru!”

“does this belong to you?” your friend grins at cherry, who’s just staring at you wobble on your feet like a newborn deer

“yes” he says slowly, a little surprised at how drunk you are

he reaches out for you and you all but collapse in his arm, cherry slightly straining under the weight

“okay, then! my taxi’s waiting, bye babe!” your friend calls to you and you sluggishly wave at them while hanging off of cherry’s waist

cherry makes sure you friend gets in the taxi safely before turning to you

“what have you gotten yourself into?” he sighs, hoisting you up and carrying you into his house

“just had a few drinks!” you chirp, wrapping your arms around cherry’s neck

“a few...” cherry echoes you flatly

“ maybe a couple!”

“...”

“ okay, maybe a lot”

doesn’t even wait for you tell him if you feel nauseous, he just carries you to the bathroom and sits you down in front of the toilet

ties your hair back as you babble nonsensically about how dangerous it is that he rides a skateboard

if you get sick, he gently rubs your back and murmurs soothingly to you

makes you wash your mouth out and brushes your teeth for you (he’s grumbling as he does it, BUT HE’S STILL DOIN IT)

he’s gonna save the lecturing for tomorrow so he just resorts to muttering under his breath, but he’s still very gentle with you

he bathes you! but then you tell him that he looks like your mother as he does it and he’s just like “😐 okay bath time over”

get’s you a silk robe and guides you into his bed

he runs to get you a class of water and when he comes back, he hears you sniffling as you lay with your back to him

“what’s the matter, love?” he asks gently, sitting down the bed next to you

he brushes your hair back to see you are, in fact, crying

you take a shaky breath as you struggle to sit up and look directly at him

“are you cheating on me with carla??” you ask wobbly, stealing yourself for his answer

cherry: “😐😑😐”

he just hands the glass of water to you and doesn’t say anything bc he’s TIRED

when you finish your glass, he places it on his bedside table as you sink into the sheets

“you didn’t answer” you murmur glumly, staring straight ahead

cherry looks down at you and tilts his head, brushing your hair back from your face, kinda smiling for that first time that night

“no. how would cheat on you with a skateboard?” cherry asks, slightly teasing.

“you literally make heart eyes with it...don’t laugh!” your lower lip begins to wobble as cherry slightly chuckles

“you’re so drunk” he smiles at you softly

you weakly nod in agreement as cherry continues brushing your hair back

“yea, ‘won’t do it again tho...thank you kaoru, i love you” you garble out, sleep overtaking you

cherry waits until you fall asleep to give you a kiss on the forehead,

he stays up a to watch you before he slides in next to you and sleeps facing you with your hand in his

notes: i’m gonna do langa, reki, joe, and cherry all in one post for the sequel (?) to this where reader takes care of them when they get drunk!

[realcube]

characters dealing with a deep sleeper! s/o  (_　_)。゜zｚＺ

characters: bokuto, oikawa & saiki k 

tw// swearing, fluff, mentions of death, illness, funerals, sexual references 

Kōtarō Bokuto

he literally thought you died 

this was your first time sleeping over at his home and last night, y’all were stuffing your faces with treats until your stomachs ached

you had mentioned several times how you were feeling sick - even after bokuto took you out for a late-night run - but he just told you to take a pain-killer and sleep it off

but now he was kinda regretting not calling someone to help 

like what if the sickness was a symptom to a deadly disease which took you overnight?

plus, he had tried everything he could think of to wake you up: he shook you, he blasted music from his phone, he opened the curtains to allow blinding light to shine on you, he flicked spits of cold water onto your face and he literally wafted cookies around the room in hopes you’d catch the scent 

but it was no use as even after all that, you didn’t move an inch

he tried to check your pulse which he believed to be on the wrist but he couldn’t think it 

so either he was too stupid to find the exact location or......you didn’t have a pulse

he’ll admit, it was an eerie thought that there could be a dead person in his bed rn but even he considered that a rather outlandish idea 

how could a person as healthy as you just die overnight? so he did what any reasonable person would do in that situation-- no, not call a doctor

he held a funeral for his beloved s/o 💀

he gathered all five of the plushies laying around his room (all of which were owls) and lined them up on the foot of the bed 

‘we are all gathered here today to celebrate the epic life of my partner, (y/n) (l/n).’ he sobbed into the sleeve of the black blazer he had pulled out of his closet, ‘gone too soon.’

silence. but in his mind he was met by a chorus of ‘aww’s and whimpers from the crowd

‘i loved them. (y/n) was my rock; they helped me through some of the hardest points in my life--’

his speech was cut off upon hearing one of the audience members pipe up, ‘bo, what are you doing?’

a wave of excitement washed over him as he scurried up to the line of guests, closely examining each one, ‘i didn’t know y’all could talk!’

you rolled your eyes before leaning forward and gently tapping the back of his head, ‘it’s me.’

upon laying his eyes on you, healthy and alive, his lips curled into a foolishly large grin as he immediately pulled you into a tight hug, ‘(Y/N), you’re alive!’ he cried

you gasped at his rather dramatic reaction before slowly melting into his embrace, ‘yes, i am.’

as your lips parted from the skin of his jaw and he slowly let his arms fall from your waist, you finally inquired, ‘did you hold a funeral for me?’

bokuto’s eyes-widened at your ‘crazy’ suggestion, ‘uhhhh, nooooo.’

if his elongating of each word wasn’t enough to show that he was lying, the dead giveaway would have to be the sheet of A4 paper with ‘(Y/N)’S FUNERAL 😭’ written on it that was stuck to the door with blu-tac

ignoring his completely false reply, you leaned back on the bed and picked up on the owl plushies, gently stroking it’s soft fur, ‘are these the guests? why are there only five?’

bokuto shrugged, picking up one himself and absentmindedly attempting to balance it on your head, ‘seven; if you count me and you.’

you giggled, about to make a inquire about the names of each guest until bokuto suddenly through his arms around you again 

‘why didn’t you tell me that you are such a deep-sleeper before?! i was so worried - i thought you died! please never die on me again, (y/n)?’

you smiled, pulling back to plant a sweet kiss on his cheek, ‘i promise.’

Tōru Oikawa

he would take advantage of this opportunity lol

the first time y’all slept over together as a couple, he had no idea that you were as deep of a sleeper as you actually are

like he thought you meant ‘i sometimes sleep through my alarms’ deep-sleeper

NOT ‘IT TAKES A WHOLE NATURAL DISASTER TO WAKE ME UP IN THE MORNING’ DEEP-SLEEPER (/h)

anyway, at first, he’d probably just freshen up while you sleep: take a shower, wash his face, brush his teeth, floss etc so he’s no longer effected by that ✨morning crust ✨

but when he pokes his head out of the bathroom and noticed that your sleep asleep, he tries to blow-dry his hair bc he knows how much you like it when it’s all fluffy

but his blow-dryer was quite loud so he put it on for a few seconds to see if it’s wake you up and just as he expected, you were still sound asleep

so he blew-dry his hair until it was that soft texture that you liked so much- all while you were still like (∪.∪ )...zzz even though the blow-dryer was making a racket 

you were still sleeping and upon looking at the time, he realised that it was completely fair considering it was currently half past 8 and he had just woken up extremely early for some unknown reason

he didn’t want to wake you so he was just doing to go out for a run or make breakfast until he caught a glimpse of himself in mirror

o.O

despite his  puffy hair and pearly-white smile, he still looked sloppy

but it was definitely bc of his stained, torn, washed-out pyjamas tbh

he was just wearing an old T-shirt that he’s had for god-knows how long and a pair of grey sweatpants; it wasn’t a look

he had no idea what possessed him to wear such casual nightwear while you were at his house - especially when you chose to wear something so relaxed yet titillating - but he knew that he needed to change

after a while of rummaging through his nightwear drawer, the best he could find was a pair of white, silk, loose-legged trousers which he had bought for a halloween costume many years ago

it was pretty classy though :)) he was sure that you’d like it 

however, he still couldn’t find anything to wear on his top half but there is no fashion problem oikawa can’t solve 

thus, he went shirtless ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

he also threw on some jewellery too, just for the lols

you weren’t awake yet thought, so after he set up some candles to create a ‘mood’, he just sat next to you on the bed, scrolling on his phone and anticipating your reaction once you woke up

for a moment, he thought that he might’ve went when too far but upon taking a look at himself in his front-facing camera, he realised that there was no harm in spicing things up

once he noticed one of your eyes slowly flutter open, he quickly tossed his phone to the side and turned his body to face you, shooting you a kind smile and he gently ran a hand through his fluffy hair, ‘morning, angel~’ he cooed

you grumbled your greeting in response, then proceeded to rub your eyes to make sure you were seeing him correctly, ‘what are you wearing, tōru?’

‘can a guy not dress up for his special someone anymore?’

you rolled your eyes, playfully slapping his chest and going to hop out of bed until he pulled you back down against the sheets

a faint gasp escaped your lips but you were quickly hushed by oikawa pushing his finger against your lips, ‘you’re not going anywhere, (y/n).’

Kusuo Saiki

this was the first time you ever slept over at his house or next to him yet y’all had been dating for year and a half

he was just scared that he might accidently do something crazy in his sleep (bc of his powers ofc) and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you 🥺

you were patient with him though but bc y’all had never woken up together before, he had no idea how deep of a sleeper you are

he thought it was cute at first bc you were laying there like the beauty you are, lookin’ all serene and calm and stuff

but after a while, he got bored on his own  #•̀ ︿ •́

also, you promised to bake macarons with him for breakfast and he was hungry as hell, still he didn’t want to eat without you but if he didn’t wake you up rn to make macarons, he’d surely starve to death while they were in the fridge

on any other day, he’d just try do it himself but when you helped him make food- it just hit different 😍

‘(y/n), wake up.’  he spoke into your mind using his telepathy, while light nudging your arm, ‘i’m hungry.’

you didn’t reply, seeming completely knocked out

he tried the next best thing, holding his annoying alarm noise near (but not too close) to your ear

still nothing, though

his last human attempt was aggressively pulling your blanket away but even after that you showed no signs of waking up so he realised that he’d have to resort to using his physic abilities

he considered using his astral projection to possess your body but he felt as though taking over your body might cross a few boundaries 

but he did try duplicating himself so he could shake you from many different angles but it was still no use

he continued to use his telepathy to try wake you up but it didn’t seem to work either

after multiple different attempts of using his powers to try wake you up; here he was, standing in the middle of some dystopian, apocalyptic scene - alarms ringing in the distant along with sirens, screaming, honking and wails. everything around him seemed to be engulfed by flames which created thick, smoky air 

he wasn’t really sure how he got here but he was pretty sure it started around the time he tried to form an energy ball 

whatever 🤷‍♂️ it’s no biggie

he jumped back in time so he was standing next to your bed once again, exactly where he left off before he created the energy ball

he stared down at your sleeping figure and let out an exasperated sigh as he realised that he’d have to employ one of his most dangerous tactics

he really hoped it didn’t have to come to this

‘(y/n), if you get up right now.’ his voice rung through your head, ‘i speak with my voice.’

just like that, both of your eyes shot open as you hastily sat up on the bed

‘do it, saiki!’ you cheered, a foolishly large grin plastered on your features

and he couldn’t help but smile too 

curse you for being so cute

[hurting-fictional-people]

hi!! idk if u take requests, but if u do, i was thinking maybe something where a villain and a hero are in love and in a romantic relationship (which is already stablished),, and then the hero has to fight someone they wont be able to defeat, like a supervillain or something, who is merciless and will probably kill hero if they go tru with it. anyway,, the villain knows abt hero's plan to take down supervillain bc they told them bc they r lovers n share everything <3 and villain tries to convince them not to, but hero doesn't listen and still wants to go tru with it, so villain knocks them out, kidnaps them and keeps hero in their house so that they wont b able to go try and defeat villain and die. bc they love them <33 but their morals r grey at best

Hii! Anon, this is exactly the kind of scenario I love, so thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it <3

-

If it wasn’t for the dread pooling in the pit of Villain’s stomach, they’d think that Hero looks beautiful. They always do when that fierce light shines in their eyes.

“Darling, what do I have to do to dissuade you from this insanity?” Villain is almost surprised by how steady their voice sounds. It holds nothing of the wild things stirring inside of them, making their heart race and their hands shake.

“You can’t,” Hero says, tilting their head to the side and offering them a soft smile. “I know you are worried and I love you for it, but I have to go. Supervillain needs to be stopped, Villain, and I can’t waste this opportunity. It’s the first time I have the location of their current hideout, and who knows when I’ll get a chance as good as this one to put an end to all the chaos they’ve been spreading. This city needs me, love.”

“Hero, Supervillain has years of experience on you. They know what they’re doing, and for all we know, they could be the one who sent you the anonymous tip about the hideout location. If you go there, you’ll die.”

Hero frowns, crossing their arms over their chest as they look away. “Is that truly what you think of my abilities?” they ask quietly. When Hero raises their eyes again, their expression is one of pure determination. “I know what I’m doing. I won’t die. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

Villain swallows down the need to scream in frustration and takes a step in their direction. And then another one, until they stand right in front of Hero. Villain leans their forehead against their lover’s, and Hero takes a deep breath at the closeness before wrapping their arms around Villain’s shoulders.

“Trust me on this, my love. I’ll be back before you can even miss me.”

“I trust you,” Villain says, holding Hero’s waist with one hand and letting their eyes flutter closed. Villain rubs their back in soft circles, and Hero doesn’t notice Villain’s other hand sneaking into their pocket. “But please trust me on this, Hero. This isn’t a fight you can win.”

“Villain, I already said everything I had to say. I’m doing this whether you want me to or not. I’m sorry, but this isn’t an argument you can win.”

“I could say the same,” Villain whispers.

They open their eyes and find Hero’s confused gaze locked on theirs. There is gentleness there too, staring at Villain’s soul like only Hero ever has. When the needle pricks their neck, it turns into shock.

“You… What did you just…?”

Hero pushes them away, parted lips and wide eyes as they stumble backward, holding their neck. Villain doesn’t stop them. All they do is let the syringe fall from their hand and watch as Hero gasps and shakes their head in incredulity.

“No,” Hero whimpers, and that simple word sinks into Villain’s chest and shatters their heart with the horror it carries. “Villain, what did you do?”

They open their mouth, but before any words can leave their lips, Hero sways on their feet, and Villain sprints forward without thought. When their lover’s knees buckle, Villain is there to catch them.

“How could you?” they sob in Villain’s arms, clutching their shirt. “I… how could… I’ll never… V-Vil–, how c…”

Hero’s grip loosens as their voice dies down, and their hands fall limply on their lap. Their head lolls against Villain’s chest for a moment before their body sags and they are completely lax in Villain’s embrace.

“You matter far more than this city,” they whisper to Hero’s unconscious form.

-

When Hero wakes up, the first thing they notice is that they aren't at their house. And then the scent. Even without opening their eyes, they know the bed they are lying on isn’t theirs, but the smell is. Wherever they are, it still smells like home.

Smells like Villain’s perfume.

Hero blinks against the sleep still gluing their eyelids together, again and again until they open to reveal Villain’s bedroom.

“You are awake.”

They turn their head to the side and find Villain sitting by the bed. Hero nods, frowning when it makes their head throb, and then deeper at how parched their throat feels.

“Want some water?” Villain offers, and Hero nods again.

Gentle hands help them sit up for Villain to slide behind them, letting Hero lean against their chest and guiding a glass to their lips.

Hero closes their eyes and drinks.

“How are you feeling?” Villain asks, resting their chin on top of Hero’s head. It is pure instinct that leads Hero to sit back against them and hold Villain’s arms around their body.

That’s where they belong, Hero thinks distantly. In Villain’s arms.

When they open their mouth to answer, though, the words get caught in their throat. Hero blinks at Villain’s bedroom again, shaking their head when muddled memories flash before their eyes.

Hero pulls away from Villain’s hug, and turns around to face them.

“You drugged me.”

“I did,” Villain says calmly. “It’s why you are alive to talk to me right now.”

If it wasn’t for their aching head and pounding heart, Hero would think this is a nightmare.

“How long was I out?”

“A few hours. Time enough for Supervillain to change locations – it’s all over the news.”

Hero parts their lips, but there aren’t enough words to voice what they are feeling. The cold, heavy darkness enveloping their heart and squeezing.

“I had to do it, Hero,” Villain says, showing their palms in what might’ve looked like remorse if Hero didn’t know what to look for. The pride hidden in the way their brows curve, the slight tug at the corner of their lips. “If I didn’t, you’d be dead now. I can take your anger, but I can’t take a world without you in it.”

“My anger?” Hero snickers, swinging their legs off the bed and getting up. The floor seems to move when they do, and when a wave of dizziness crashes over them, Hero takes an unsteady step forward. They frown and close their eyes as they sway, and just before they can fall, warm, familiar hands wrap around them, holding them upright.

Hero’s eyes snap back open as they shove Villain away and stumble backward. “Don’t touch me,” Hero hisses.

They make it two steps back before their legs give out. Villain moves toward them, but Hero bares their teeth as their knees hit the floor.

“I said DON’T TOUCH ME,” they shout. “You think I’m angry? Is that what you think, Villain? You’ve drugged and kidnapped me. You completely disregarded what I wanted to do with my life. This isn’t a fight you can solve with a charming smile and pretty words. You, you, you drugged me–”

“I did it because I love you, Hero!” Villain yells, taking another step in their direction.

Hero gets up on wobbly legs and staggers to the nearest wall, leaning against it as Villain follows their movements with a lost expression that makes them want to scream.

“If that’s what you think, then you have no idea what love is,” Hero says, and they can’t hold back the sob that slips out along with the words. Nor the tears that roll down their cheeks unbidden. “Love isn’t choosing for the other person. Love isn’t ignoring what I wanted and kidnapping me. Love is respect and trust and understanding. This? This is… this is a tragedy.”

“No,” Villain breathes, crossing the room and only stopping when there's no more room between them and Hero, soft hands cupping tear-streaked cheeks and tilting Hero's head up until they look into each other's eyes. “Hero, I… you know how much I love you. Darling, I’d burn down the whole world for you. Please, tell me how to make this right.”

Hero closes their eyes, feeling that tender touch they want so desperately to lean into. To let Villain kiss the pain away.

“You aren’t even sorry, are you?” Hero whispers, eyes fluttering back open to find Villain blinking and opening their mouth.

“I am. I hurt you, of course I’m sorry.”

“Would you do it again?” Hero swallows, placing their hands on top of Villain’s fingers, holding them against their face. “If we could go back in time, would you do it again?”

They don’t need to hear the answer to know it. It’s written in Villain’s creased forehead and cautious eyes.

“Then you aren’t sorry,” Hero’s voice breaks as they grip Villain’s hands and push them away with as much force as they can manage.

“Okay,” Villain nods, holding still when Hero steps away from them and reaches for the door. “Okay. Cool off, we can talk about this later. We can fix this. As long as we have each other, we can fix anything.”

“Well, that’s the problem then,” Hero holds onto the door handle as they turn around and meet Villain’s wide eyes. “You don’t have me anymore. I can’t forgive you, Villain. Not for this.”

“Hero–”

They don’t stay long enough to hear anything else. Hero runs, and doesn’t stop until they are as far away as they can from the person they thought they’d spend their whole life with.

When they curl up and sob, Hero can’t help but wish Villain’s touch, soothing the pain and keeping them safe. But the pain is too big, this time. Too deep. Caused by the very hands they want around them.

So Hero hugs themself, and cries for the love they thought would last forever.

[ihatebnha]

hello pls can you write headcanons for the bakusquad finding sexy toys in your room?

LMFAOOOOOOO I can!🥴🥴🥴

I’m setting this under the guise of it being a pre-established relationship… Hope that’s okay!

Enjoy!

-

Bakugo

Assuming that you’re not hiding your toys from him, he probably finds them and just doesn’t say anything about it for awhile 

You catch him staring at one of them silently and when you ask him about it he’s like “RAAAWR I DON’T CARE IF YOU HAVE THIS,” before throwing it back to where he found it

You’re kinda like, “Okay… but whatever I guess” and just move on, because knowing Bakugo, if he had something to say, he’d just say it 

LITTLE DO YOU KNOW… he thinks about them nonstop for a while… before pulling them out AGAIN 

When you catch him the second time he’s like, “you’re not using these, are you?” 

(Poor guy) 

You laugh, like, “…only when you’re away…” and he gets all smug and shit

Honestly he probably gets horny thinking about you using them and you fuck after that

LMFAOOOO though he turns them on once secretly basically just to “take notes” 

Better watch out for his fingers after that  

(Definitely washes his hands after touching them the first time)… 

Kirishima

Poor baby

You know he’s not a snoop so you don’t mind him looking through your stuff, so he probably finds them on accident when he’s looking for something else🥴

Definitely gets curious and pulls them out, but after realizing what they are… he gets a little shy 

You walk in the room like, “Baby, did you find what you were looking…oh” 

He sitting there all cute and ashamed, rubbing the back of his head like with them in front of him like, “Uh…. I…. Sorry…🤕” 

And you can’t even be mad because he’s just too cute like that

So of course you tell him not to worry about it… but as you’re going to put them away he’s like, “Do you… really use those?👉🏻👈🏻” 

AKLJFJADJF 

You’re like, “Yeah, but I mean… less now…”

Not the both of you just standing there blushing like little fools

Definitely wants to pull them out and use them on you at some point… 

King 

Denki

LMFAO you walk in on the stupid boy PLAYING with them, like they’re already buzzing in his hands and everything by the time you catch him

Definitely does not give you a moment to breathe once you walk in, jumping straight to, “Babe, why didn’t you tell me you had these” while giggling and waving them around

It would be kinda mortifying except for the fact that he’s genuinely pretty excited

Doesn’t even care if you use them regularly or not, he just feels like that’s more of an excuse to fuck you more often

Definitely tries to get you to take him to the sex store after that

He’s like, “I just want to seeeeee…” as if he doesn’t want to buy more that you can use together

AKA: do not let him get some hands on a pair of handcuffs… for both of your sakes 

Will let you use one on him if you catch him in the right mood

Please keep an eye on him though, because he’s not above telling Sero, Kiri, and Baku what he’s found 

Definitely pulls a stupid move where he’s like, “and they BUZZ!” 

DENKI, WE KNOW!!!

(TBH it’s probably kinda funny tho bc I bet he’s not that sensitive to the vibrations because of his quirk…)

Probably also wants to try zapping your pussy… both of you would literally die

Sero

AHHH he’s so bad, he definitely pulls a “dis you?” in the chat when he finds them 

You try to snatch them back and he absolutely will not give them up for anything

(God damn his stupid long arms!!!)

Probably asks a bunch of questions too AND makes you explain yourself

He’s mostly just messing with you, but he’s actually probably genuinely interested in the answers, so you don’t stay embarrassed for long (even if you’re heating up) 

NGL would be down for a mutual masturbation session at some point (because honestly, he wants to watch) 

Whenever you argue, he brings them up 

“I guess you can just use your toys tonight, babe, sorry😒” or, “Not like you even need me with those toys around, huh?” 

He’s joking but it’s kinda 😠😠😠 so slap him around for it

Be like, “You know what? You’re right!” and I guarantee he’ll be taking it back in 0.2 seconds 

Mina

NGL she finds your toys and probably fucking… parades them around like it’s not a big deal

You catch her in your room holding like two of them at once, and when she sees you she’s all excited and cheering 

Teasing you and asking you questions like “OoOoOhhh what are these?” “Can I try them?” and “You’re kinda a lil freak, huh?” 

If you get embarrassed and try to snatch them back she holds them away from your grasp and starts talking about sex positivity and that she “understands!!!”

Still though, probably posts a picture of them on Snap with a caption that’s like, “FOUND BAE’S TOYS🥴😍” (as long as you give her the okay)

OMG, or “Boutta get railed!”

Definitely begs you to bust them out during sexy time after that

And honestly, at some point, you probably find her own collection of them too and she’s even worse than you 

Gets embarrassed about it and now it’s your turn for revenge ;)

I want to fuck Mina now… Bye

[palbabor-writes]

Lá Bealtaine

Pairing: Choso x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of blood, cunnilingus, SMUT, NSFW/18+only, loss of virginity - if you squint, using sex to mask feelings & trauma, mild JJK manga spoilers; but if you’ve seen the anime you’re pretty caught up on this stuff

Word Count: 4732

“Why do you let them––us, stay?”

You lift your head, blinking at his obsidian surveyance. “What am I supposed to do? Say no? Not like I put an advertisement on the door: seeking dangerous men and nefarious spirits, inquire within. I’m not wanting to die, you know? Besides, it’s not all bad.”

“Name one thing that’s not bad about this,” Choso demands, his tone clipped.

Why? Why does he care? You’re not someone he can save. There’s no room for you. You aren’t family.

“Only one thing? Well, that’s easy,” you continue, the steady lull of your voice jerking him out of his musings. “You.”

Notes: hehe, when i said i had Choso brain rot i was not joking. this dude has been on my mind for weeks, ya’ll. WEEKS. special thanks to @libiraki​ & @kugutsuu​ for beta editing! if you haven’t checked out their works please stop what you are doing & scuttle yourself over there bc you are missing out.

Lá Bealtaine [l̪ˠaː ˈbʲal̪ˠt̪ˠənʲə] 'the bright or yellow day of Beltane' - a time of fire and fertility.

It started with a touch. A simple interaction; but it sticks to the back of his mind and the heat of your hand lingers, a remembrance that he can’t shake.

He’d returned to the dingy bowels of the hideout, boots echoing over the well-worn floor as he made his way to his customary seat; unaware of the blood that oozed from the strip above his nose. Legs and arms are heavy as he slots himself into the chair, his eyes drooping closed as he leans his dark head against the cushions. 

Two weeks.

Choso’s younger brothers were killed two weeks ago. Leaving him alone; adrift in his loss, his failure as an elder brother. The remembrance of them stung in the morning and was an ache by afternoon, but in the night’s darkness it burned.

He will have his chance, he reminds himself, furrowing his brow; seeking the faint traces of the other six who need him to press on, and the hollow twinge of the two who need vengeance. The 31st is only fourteen days away; he can wait. He can–

The pressure of the sudden touch makes him jerk; coal-dark eyes snapping open, searching for the source. You’re standing above him, hand outstretched, the pad of your thumb delicately catching the long forgotten drip of blood against his cheek. 

“You shouldn’t touch that,” he says, voice gruff in the vacant emptiness of the space; but he doesn’t shift, meeting your frank gaze unblinkingly. 

“Oh?” you question, swiping the sullied digit across your pants, tacking the deep crimson into the material of your jeans.

“It’s poison,” Choso clarifies. The spot you’d stroked your thumb down is tingling. Exhaustion, he muses, itching his nails into the thick fabric of his loose pants. He’s imagining it; there’s no other explanation.

“You’re not going with the others?”

What? How can he? They’re dead. Ah, no. He’s not thinking clearly. You don’t mean his brothers; you mean Getō.

“No,” he quips, lifting the back of his hand to his cheek, wanting to quell that spreading warmth that you’ve left him with. 

“Then you don’t need this, right?” You gesture to the mess of game pieces and the forgotten board that is scattered across the low table in front of him. He shakes his head and you begin the steady process of tidying up, collecting the mismatched jumble into your arms, folding the rest into the tattered box before you step away. 

Choso closes his eyes again, steadying his breaths, finding the pulse of the blood that thrums within him. Nothing is out of place. So why does his cheek feel like it’s on fire? There’s no reason for it. Is he this starved for a connection that he’s latching onto the first interaction he receives? 

His onyx eyes follow you as you walk across the matted flooring. You own this space; have struck some kind of deal with Getō and the others, permitting them to come and go, quietly cleaning up their messes, and ducking out of sight when they gather within the confines of the darkness; talking through the plans, the ins and outs of the sealing and the massacre that they hope to spread throughout the underground station of the pre-ordained prefecture. 

In the grand scheme of things you’re nothing. Why waste energy focusing on you? It won’t matter in fourteen days.

The clink of the cup on the table rattles him out of his thoughts and Choso peers into the depths of your clear gaze once more. “What is it?” he queries, running a broad hand down his face, hoping the pull will make him forget the persistent warmth that’s radiating from the spot you’d touched. 

“You look tired. Drink that and get some rest.”

“Giving orders now?”

“Sure,” you grin, cocking your head at Choso’s curled lips and wrinkled nose. “That’s a good one. Like any of you would ever listen to me.”

What’s this called? Self deprecating humor? Well, whatever it is, Choso doesn’t enjoy the brittle tone your voice has drifted into. It doesn’t suit you and that low annoyance that’s been brewing under his skin is coming closer and closer to the surface. His fingers are on the cup before he can properly sort through his mismatched emotions, but he doesn’t miss the lift of your lips when he gulps the scalding tea down his throat. 

Why does he care? You don’t matter. You’re no one to him.

“Easy,” you tut, shaking your head at his sharp gaze. “You’ll burn yourself.”

So? He’d rather feel something burn than linger into the uneasy pull of an ache. 

Choso looks for you when he enters, shifting past the others. You’re tucked toward the back, brows creased and head down. It’s a smart move, but the frightened hunch you’ve adopted bothers him more than it used to.

“We have a few minutes,” Getō announces to the gathering, dark eyes bright as they fall on his impassive face. “And Mahito is always late.”

There’s an implication behind it, but Choso opts to ignore that uneasy instinct, already turning. He’s just going to ask you for tea; that’s all. When you spy him, you smile and that spot on his cheek flares, remembering the sweep of your thumb.

“Lucky you caught me,” you tell him, hands busy with the rattling cups. “I was about to go.”

He narrows his eyes, watching the curve of your neck, the stretch of your fingers, and the uneasy twitch of your shoulders. This sort of existence doesn’t suit you. You’re the antithesis of this; normal, kind, unabashedly human. So why do you… 

“Why do you let them––us, stay?”

You lift your head, blinking at his obsidian surveyance. “What am I supposed to do? Say no? Not like I put an advertisement on the door: seeking dangerous men and nefarious spirits, inquire within. I’m not wanting to die, you know? Besides, it’s not all bad.”

“Name one thing that’s not bad about this,” Choso demands, his tone clipped. 

Why? Why does he care? You’re not someone he can save. There’s no room for you. You aren’t family.

“Only one thing? Well, that’s easy,” you continue, the steady lull of your voice jerking him out of his musings. “You.”

Choso shakes his head, openly scowling at your answer. “Me?” he sputters, sucking his teeth and pressing his clenched fists into the long table that you stand behind. 

“Yeah,” you confirm, pouring the steaming water over the leaves, wafting the fragrant essence of the tea between his clenched jaw and your ducked head. 

“I don’t… that is...I...” Choso begins, but fumbles into silence when he catches sight of your eyes, half hidden behind the sweep of your lashes. It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes sense. “You’re strange,” he finishes, huffing a belabored sigh between his pursed lips, but when you laugh he can’t help a faint smile. 

It will feel disloyal later, that burst of momentary happiness, but right now he doesn’t mind the distraction; cupping the yunomi between his palms, catching your fingers before they can pull away, enjoying the warmth you transude into his chilled hands. 

Nothing holds. Choso knows this better than most. All things, given time, change. It is an inevitability. Something he’s known intrinsically, and clung to, all those years; when the only constant was the beating of his brother’s hearts beside him. But change rarely announces itself, content in its own emergence; the omnipotence of its bite.

Something has shifted. 

“You didn’t go again?” You ask one night, sitting beside him, a cooling mug between your fingertips. 

“Didn’t see the need,” he tells you, an outstretched legs brushing against yours. 

“You’re different… you know that?” A smile hidden within your words. 

“So are you.” He likes that, he thinks. He likes it more than he should.

“Can I ask you something?”

“What?”

You bite your lip and he watches the press of your teeth, hoping you’ll split the skin. 

“Come closer and I’ll tell you.” You bargain, coyly shaking your head.

“I’m close enough and I don’t like games,” he grumbles, hoping you won’t leave it at that, because while it’s true that he doesn’t like games, he’s enjoying this give and take. 

“Please?”

There’s something intoxicating about that gentle sound and he turns, wordlessly following your crooked finger. He towers over your seated form, but you don’t let that imbalance hang, hands tugging against the white of his shirt, urging him to kneel between your spread legs. When he settles, you curl your fingers against his jaw, smoothing that blistering heat over his icy skin until he’s pressing forward, resting his heavy forehead against yours. 

You’re so warm, he inwardly gasps, his breaths coming in pants. So warm he fears he might grow addicted to this heady intimacy. “What do you want?” Choso asks, the deep timbre of his voice quaking. 

“You.” It’s such a simple answer; how like you.

“I am here,” he replies, half drunk on the feel of your skin.

“Yes, but what if I told you I want more?”

That question casts him into the darkness. He’s unused to this; doesn’t know what to do, what to say; he’s been sealed for so long, too long, and he feels wobbly, lightheaded, but he tries to reach, his fingers grasping at the base of your neck, pulling you toward... toward…

The clatter of the front door startles you both, and he’s on his feet, eyes wild as they look down on your parted lips, and the furrowed confusion of your brow. Your hands are still upturned, waiting for his.

The others step into the space and when he blinks again you’re already gone; your chair vacant, the warmth you’d shared evaporating into the unfeeling cruelty of the chilled air. Shit, Choso curses, grinding his teeth.  

Something has shifted; it will be impossible to tear himself away from you now.

It’s only been a day, but he can’t stop staring at you. He doesn’t hide his blatant gaze, obsidian eyes tracking each step, hungrily snapping to yours each time you come near. You do nothing to lessen this itching want that’s raging within him, leaning close, pressing your hand against his shoulder as you gather the discarded cups that are scattered between them, asking him if there’s anything else he needs, your breath hot against his ear. 

He’s unsure if he likes this. 

But each time you shift away he wants to drag you back. 

When they leave, used to his excuses, and his protestations that as long as the mission doesn’t involve Itadori Yuji or Kugisaki Nobara he’s uninterested, he stands; head turning, searching for you. 

Ah. There you are. 

He’s against you in an instant, stiff hands cupping you, greedy to touch, to hold. You squirm, a laugh bubbling from your lips, swatting his wide palms from the tempting swell of your hips. “What’s gotten into you?” As if you don’t know.

“Tch,” he scolds, “you’ve been toying with me all evening. You said you wanted more yesterday, so show me.”

You breathe out a chuckle, bemused by his enthusiasm and take his hand in yours, leading him down a hallway. He’s never been back here, but he follows, trying to steady the thudding of his heart. Controlling his life’s blood is second nature to him, so why does this feel like it’s a losing battle? 

The room you open is dark, but he can make out the shape of a futon, stark against the mats, and his eyelids flutter, too overwhelmed by the realness of this befuddling situation to look. To distract himself, he pulls you against the slope of his chest, splaying his fingers against the sweep of your collarbone. You twist in his loose hold, folding your arms around his powerful neck.

“Do you still want this?”

Choso unsticks his tongue from the roof of his mouth, gulping down a wavering breath. “I already told you,” he begins, his voice gravel, “show me more. Show me what else you want to do with me.”

“Can I kiss you?” you inquire, dipping your head enticingly, catching his wandering attention, urging him nearer. He doesn’t answer, electing to tap his lips against yours, clumsily pressing until the tip of his nose digs into your cheek. It’s easy to feel your heartbeat like this, and he wraps his arms around your lower back, eliminating the meager distance that was trapped between your heaving chests. 

You let him steady himself, careful to keep your movements slow, but the squish of his face and the jerk of his hands tugs a bated humph of discomfort from you and he breaks away, elegant brows crumpled as he searches for the source of your discontent. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you amend, smiling at his obvious pout. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Hmm?” Choso questions, stroking a palm up your spine, a smirk quirking the corner of his mouth when you draw in a gasp. 

You cup your hands beside his ears, fingers sinking into the dark tangles of his hair as you lure him back to your parted lips. “Open your mouth.”

He does as he’s told and you mold him against you, lapping your tongue over his, earning a shuddering moan and a sharp caress as he coils his hand around your throat. It’s easier this way and Choso steadily follows your lead, mimicking your sucks and teasing bites. Teeth clash when he reaches for more but he eases the sting with a flick of his tongue, and you nibble his lower lip in retaliation, pleased he’s so malleable. 

Your fingers fall to the sash that rests above his stomach and he grunts when you pull at it, easing it away with a stable unwinding. His breaths are heavy against your kiss shined lips, but he keeps perfecting his new found techniques, sweeping chapped skin until it’s worn smooth by the wetness of your tongue. His own hands are preoccupied with your neck and the gentle underside of your jaw, fingertips pressing until you can sense the pound of your heart within his grasp. 

“What are you trying to do?” you ask between his frantic presses. “It’s like you wanna match my pulse, or something.” 

“Worry about yourself,” he grouses, ill-pleased with your answering laugh. “It’s going to take forever if you go that slow.”

You shove your palms against his chest and he stumbles backwards, his booted feet loud against the heavy mats, dark eyes flashing up at yours as his face falls into a deep-seated glower. “What?! What was... why did you…”

His angry retorts melt into nothingness when you fling your shirt over your head, sending the thin fabric fluttering to the ground. The sudden exposure leaves him gaping, unsure of himself once more, but you ease the shock, grasping his limp hand in yours, guiding it over the dip of your stomach, and up the flow of your side. 

“Let’s play fair, huh?” you tease, tapping a kiss to his cheek, careful to land it in the same spot your thumb had touched weeks ago. Choso nods, obsidian eyes wide as his fingers trace over your goose-prickled skin. “Alright, well, it’s your turn.” 

His gaze snaps back to yours, whisking over your face; as if he’s searching for some kind of answer in the lift of your nose, or the plushness of your lips. Whatever it is, he seems to have found it because he ducks his head to yours, resting his brow against the crown of your temple, hands lifting to his own clothing, making quick work of the intricate knots and folds of the fabric.

The gleam of his skin in the moonlight takes your breath away, and you reach for him as he eases the black off of the white, sliding your warmth over the coldness of his bared pectorals. He’s smooth; skin as soft as freshly cleaved talc, or a scattering of downy feathers, and you keep stroking until he’s shaking under your touch, his exhales unsteady against your face. 

“I think I have more blemishes on my fingers and arms than you do on your entire body. You’re so soft,” you tell him, tracing an outspread hand against his muscled abdomen. 

“I’m... this is a new manifestation,” he answers, hoping the strangeness of him, of his half human, half cursed being, won’t drive you away. 

“Hmm,” you nod, pulling him down for another kiss. “It feels nice.”

He’s slow to undress. Not because he doesn’t want to see more of you, he’s simply distracted, too focused on touching what bits of you are revealed; the arc of your hips, the tipped buds of your breasts, and the line of your legs. But you’re like water; slipping through the gaps of his fingers, leaving him wanting, unsatisfied with his fragile hold.

When the last scrap of clothing is off, he waits, his cheeks flushed and mouth dry. “Now what?”

“Do you want me to touch you first?” you ask, that tantalizing smile lifting your lips. 

“No,” he asserts, shaking his dark head. “I want to learn you before that...so show me.”

“You’re very unusual.” Tilting your head as you take his hand, leading him to your futon. “You know that?” you continue, tumbling him over you as you splay across the crisp sheets. 

“Says the woman who is letting me between her legs,” Choso smarts, finding your lips in the gathering darkness. “Stop stalling; show me.”

With a pleased sigh, you reach for his hand again, looping your fingers around his as you guide him to the juncture of your thighs. You work one away from the others, gliding it along the ridges of your folds, showing him how you like to be touched. After his initial gawping and mystified rumblings of, ‘so wet,’ and half croaked, ‘fucks,’ he shifts closer, easing onto his haunches as he curiously follows your lessons.

“There,” he hisses, onyx gaze catching your twitching stomach and jerking hips. “Teach me how to do that.”

You work him to that apex, using your other hand to lift the slippery hood of your clit, showing him how to press and tap against the spongy nub. He’s a quick learner, his eyes falling from yours to watch the flutter and quaver of your cunt. 

“Move your hand,” he tells you, resting his lips against the hollow of your neck, his tongue lapping over your pulse. When you untwine your fingers from his he waits, lips too busy sucking a bruise into your skin; reaching for that unsteady thump of your heart. 

Bump-bump-ba-bump.

Yes. This will do. He’s caught the rhythm; can almost sense the flow of your blood, and see the surge of your clit under his touch.   

The next frig of his digit has you gasping out his name, legs unfurling, knees shaking beside his ribs, your head flopping back onto the futon with a dull thump as you arch into his hold. Choso reapplies the pressure, adding the pad of his thumb, leaving it opposite his seeking forefinger, squeezing until you’re clawing your blunt nails down the sheets. 

“You look good like this,” he smirks, looming over your heaving figure, licking his wet tongue along the valley of your breasts. “What else can you show me?”

Your fingers’ grip into his hair and you yank him from you, one brow delicately arched as you take in his irascible scowl. “You could put your mouth to better use…”

There’s no need to elaborate, and he’s wedged between your thighs before you can fully blink, ravenous lips slurping kisses and bites into the tender skin; he’s asking another question, but you can’t hear when he’s touching you like that, his fingers doggedly pressing at your clit, jerking more moans from your throat. 

“Wh-what?” you ask, breath stolen before it’s past your quivering mouth.

“I said,” Choso pants, lifting his inky head and fixing you with a dazed stare. “I can feel your heartbeat.” 

“Does that matter?” you laugh, popping onto your elbows to regard him inquisitively. 

“It helps,” he answers cryptically and you jab your toes against his arm.

“Helps with what?”

“You’ll see. Do you care if I experiment?” He lifts his fingers from you, sucking the dripping pads into his mouth as he waits for your answer.

“Knock yourself out,” you gape, biting your lip between your teeth.

His dark eyes glaze before he averts them, an appreciative smile gentling his sharp features. “Good,” he replies, easing one bent leg over his broad shoulder, sparing you a last glance before sealing his lips to your throbbing folds.

It starts slowly; a deep shudder that seems to radiate from your core before pooling against your extremities, making your fingers twitch and your muscles spasm incrementally. But Choso is mindful of the power that he’s found, and he eases you onto his tongue, helping you to relax with steady sucks, avoiding that all important button that is distending above his nose. He can almost hear the rush of your blood, can sense where to press with each swell of your slick folds, and he follows unquestionably; pleased he can lose himself in this, in you.

He taps his thumb against your entrance, eyes opening, searching over the curve of your breasts to see you, to watch what kind of expression you’ll make when he finally breaches this boundary. The sheer heat of you takes him aback, and he groans, his low voice vibrating over your twitching cunt, and you reward his elation with another moan, his name falling from your lips. 

What is this? 

He’s drowning and all he’s done is taste you. Will he die if this goes further? Or will it burn? Lapping away the remnants of his regret until there’s nothing left of him but splintered bone. 

“Choso,” you breathe, fingers latching into his wayward hair. “More, please… it’s not enough.”

He rotates his thumb before easing it out, making room for the wide push of his index finger, tongue lifting to swirl around the pulsing nub of your clit, and teeth grazing until you’re squirming.

“There!” you cry out, bucking into his open mouth. “Oh, god… I... I can’t––”

Something inside you shudders. He can feel it in the comforting thump of your heart and it makes him clutch you to him, his own hips rutting against the edge of the futon as he finds himself awash in the sheer intoxication of you. 

Fuck. Is it supposed to feel like this? Like he’s half himself and half you? Or is he simply drunk on the rush of your blood?

Your cunt sucks his finger deeper, gummy walls pulsing in time with your heart as he gulps down your essence, tongue greedily catching it before it has time to drip onto his upturned wrist. It’s good. It tastes so fucking good. 

He’s so winded by the sensations that he barely notices you pulling from him, his dark head lolling over the crinkled sheets, an inaudible moan slipping between his clenched teeth. Choso doesn’t resist when you ease him upward, warm fingers tracing up his heaving body as you press him onto his back. Only when you press a kiss to his fevered temple does he find himself, eyes bleary in the darkness.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, straddling his hips, your hand reaching for his straining cock, palming some of the leaking pre-cum over your fingers as you stroke him. “I can’t wait… I want you… can I? Choso?” 

This part will burn, he thinks, helping you to hold yourself steady, eyes slipping closed when he feels the slick heat of you gliding teasingly over his tip. When you sink down, his back arches, and he hopes that the whispering shadows, the lingering remnants of his guilt, will be tossed onto this fire you’re stoking. Your hips still when they reach his base, legs twitching around him, your nails catching against his smooth skin, working nicks into the clean slate. 

You’re clutching onto him like he’s the only thing tethering you down, and he opens his shuttered eyes to watch, hoping he can glimpse you past the smoldering of his want. You’re beautiful, he thinks, hand lifting from your hips to fiddle with the necklace that sits around your neck, admiring the glint of metal in the gloom. 

He wishes he could see more, that he could wait a little longer, but he wants to put an end to this ache; he wants to burn.

The lift of your knees leaves both of you gasping, and Choso stifles a moan, legs tensing restlessly under the steady push and pull you’re establishing over him. It’s so warm inside you, and he can feel the thrum of your blood again, so he tries to match his to yours, controlling his pulse, right down to the multiplicity of his cells, eager to feel that potent tug of release once more. 

“Does it feel good?” you ask, leaning back so he can admire his engorged cock as it plunges in and out of your sodden pussy. 

“Do you have to ask?” he grunts, lifting a hand to your breast, tweaking the tender bud of your peaked nipple between the knuckles of his fingers. 

When you call out his name again, he snatches you to him, dragging you to his parted lips as he digs his heels into the futon, rutting into you until you’re squelching lewdly around his pistoning cock. The world feels like it’s narrowing; the shadows lessening as he engulfs himself in you, his teeth working bruises into your neck, your shoulder, the tops of your breasts, anywhere he can reach; but it’s not enough. 

With a huffed groan he’s gathering you into his arms, robust thighs helping him to flip you onto your back, hands splitting your legs as he drives himself back into your welcoming heat. It’s deeper in this position. He can feel more of your twitches and pulsations as he steadies his arms beside your ears, bracing himself over your prostrate form. 

“You want me to touch you again, don’t you?” he asks, voice broken. “Do you want me to touch your clit? Will that make you cum for me? Will it?”

“I-I can do it,” you gasp, easing your fingers between your grinding bodies, knees spreading so he can watch. “Tell me when,” you murmur, head dropping as you arch, slipping him further.

“Now,” he moans, grabbing your jaw, forcing your lips to his as he slams his cock into you, setting himself alight; easing the incessant tug of his guilt until it’s a blunted thrum resting close to his heart. 

When you shatter around him, he follows, wholly caught in the ebb and flow of his release; lost in the depths of this unsteady solution.

He stays with you through the night, eyes following the line of your body as you sleep. His hands are cold, he thinks, easing them beside you, but not for much longer. 

The 31st is only four days away.

“Did he question you? Ask you for anything?” Getō’s words are lanced with care, his voice honey sweet as he steeples his fingers, peering at you with an avariciousness that makes you shake.

“He didn’t. I doubt it will happen again. I didn’t...I don’t want to...to… hurt––”

“What? Hurt him? He’s a half-breed monster. His feelings don’t come into this. Nor should yours; you have a family to think of, a mother who’s an invalid, a younger brother who can’t be depended upon, a father who’s a drunkard; too far gone to notice, or care, his eldest is missing; hasn’t attended her college classes in weeks... and your sister. Well, she’s still a child... much too young to suffer from your mistakes, don’t you think?”

“You’re the monster,” you grit, hands folded into your lap, nails pressing until blood wells under your fingertips. 

“Perhaps,” he smiles. “We’ll be out of your way soon enough. Let me know if you show any signs of impregnation, would you? Any spawn you whelp will be useful; very useful indeed.”

notes: i was gonna name this something else, and i know the dates i am describing don’t match with the sabbat, but Beltane felt like a smoother fit. 

[luvhollands]

I defo need some Peter ParkerXStarkReader smut and Tony walks in on them and freaks out and he gives them the talk and it’s like super embarrassing bc he does that in front of the avengers in the living room 😭😭 make it long pls bby💜💜

I tried to make it long as I could babes

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

You bit on the sleeve of your hoodie as Peter held your legs open, lapping up the juices that were squirting from you. It was already bad enough your dad plus all the avengers were right outside, you nor Peter could wait any second until you both got home. Your thighs quivered while your panties dangled loosely around your ankle, it was the adrenaline rush; knowing someone or anybody could easily walk through that door and it’ll be Tony losing his head. When you and Peter started dating you tried to keep it a secret from your dad but he knew both of you too well not to notice to way you and Peter looked at each other and the way you held each other in pictures on the internet, it wasn’t quite best friend material. Now here you are having your cunt devoured on the bathroom counter, a shaky hand run it’s fingers through the brunet hair, pulling on it to which Peter never minded, it only drove him to eat you out more. Moaning into the musky air - the lewd sounds bouncing off the walls. “Y-yes…” You’d whimper, you saw the smug look on the hero’s face while he pleasured you. “Look at this sloppy pussy, already drenched the floor baby. Wonder what your daddy would think if he saw how much of a whore you are.” His words made you shiver, “I-I can’t anymore!” You started to cry from the intensity of your third orgasm, Peter hummed of this as he reach up to grab at your tits, playing with the bud while you thrashed around; unable to form sentences as you babbled him to make you cum. He sucked on your folds and soon as your vision became to turn white and spotty the bathroom door busted open, Tony standing in the doorway with horrid eyes - the avengers behind him sitting around the living room table. You and Peter both jumped as you nearly fell on the floor, trying to retrieve your panties. It was silent; in quick movements you put back on your underwear while Peter whipped the cream from his chin. Tony finally cracked the silence with, “Unbelievable, this is an awkward encounter. I didn’t mean to interrupt I was just, Natasha needed to use the restroom-“ You looked over to see the red head covering her mouth, Thor was snickering and Bruce looked like as if he wanted to pass out. This was extremely embarrassing and you wish this wasn’t you right now. “I’m so sorry Mr. Stark! I didn’t mean to offend you I was just-“ Peter started but Tony stopped him, “You were not just doing what you were doing to my daughter?” Your boyfriend slumped his shoulders, giving up. Great now your first line of defense was gone.

“Did you use protection?” Both you and Peter glanced at each other, why was he asking these question as if this was normal? “Dad!” You yelled in humiliation, Tony shrugged while crossing his arms. “Clearly we need to have this conversation if you two continue…” He spoke in the monotone dad voice, “It’s very important that you both truly know about the bird and the bees.” You rolled your eyes, this really isn’t happening; this has to be a dream. “Seems like they know half of it already!” Natasha called out, causing the rest of laugh with her. You and Peter wanted to crawl into a hole and die a painful death, maybe this wasn’t so terrible but half of the room saw your boobs and now your dad was trying to give you a lecture on sex, in front of everyone?! Tony scoffed at his friends immaturity, returning his attention back to the both of you. “You out before I tell your aunt.” Peter nodded and tried to give you a kiss but Tony gave him a look which cause the boy to run off like a scared puppy, “To your room. I’ll deal with you later.” The man said, you groaned before snatching your jeans and stomping your way up the stairs - trying to ignore the giggling and jokes from the avengers.

In the end Peter texted you with apologies and heart emojis to which made you feel better considering you thought he was too embarrassed to speak with you. Tony eventually came to you and also apologized for making a whole scene in front of everyone, “Just don’t let me catch you doing that again in this house or I’ll break down the door.” He kissed your forehead and told you goodnight, the next day it was like nothing happened...until you heard the voices of the other heroes.

[elysianslove]

Hi! <3 I'm the roomate hc anon again (lol) and can I request best friends to lovers hc for iwaizumi, kuroo and oikawa? Also this blog is gonna blow up soon so remember me when you're famous bro 😌✊️❤️

OMG HI AGAIN! i’m so sorry this is late :( but oh my the excitement that flooded through me when i saw this request hsvhjsd. i really hope you enjoy this!! also vshdks i luv u bb THANK YOU.

iwaizumi hajime

im making these as detailed as fuck so i apologize in advance <3

becoming best friends with hajime was a very out of the blue thing 

the two of you shared a lot of classes together, and since you were always seeing each other, you’d choose each other as partners a lot 

you’d sit next to him in all the classes that you could

you’d meet up a lot during school breaks and just hang out 

you two clicked very well honestly, like you found that it was so easy to talk to him, and it was so easy to lose yourself in the conversation 

most of your convos are v mature and sophisticated too like

it’s nice when you can talk to someone on the same brain wavelength as you yk 😼

anyways overtime you’d come to his practice sessions, and even if they were long you’d just stay and watch bc why not

if you had hw to do and he noticed you were a lil stressed about it, he’d tell u to come study while he practiced as a change of scenery and all 

he’d walk you home almost every night at this point

oikawa noticing and being jealous <3 

“they’re stealing you from me!” “they’re not— what is wrong with you oikawa.” 

okay so this best friend stuff has been going on for a long time

long enough for you to realize you wanted more from him

but this is iwaizumi hajime and it’s almost impossible to know what he’s thinking 

like

ever 

so you just keep it to yourself, thinking it’s just a small crush and it’s not worth ruining what the two of you have at this rate 

so all this had happened first year, and when you’re nearing the end of your second year

that’s when you realize that

shit

it’s not just a crush

and when you have feelings for someone, every little thing they do expands a million times in your head

so a hug from him that you’d once never go over twice has you thinking about it as you go to sleep

the hoodies he’d lend you during practice while you stayed in the gym bc it was ungodly cold in there now send tingles down your spine at the lingering scent of him

the way he’d grab your hand to drag you somewhere now leave a heavy effect on your palm, forcing you to trace it once he’s gone 

his texts give you butterflies 

every time his name pops up on your phone screen you have a mini heart attack

and yeah

those are all symptoms of a crush

but is a crush meant to last this long? 

at the start of your third year, you greet him outside of the school gates after not seeing you all summer

he smiles so bright and hugs you so, so tightly 

you already are so hyperaware of how strong iwa is

but the feelings you have for him that won’t go away are so not helping your fixation on the feel of his biceps 

anyways before this becomes v nsfw 

you two catch up like u had met yesterday 

and then at the end of the day, after practice, which you stay for bc u missed ur vbc boys 🥺

he walks you home 

like always

and as he stands by your front door, in a burst of courage, he takes your hand in his and pulls you harshly towards him, pushing his body against yours and capturing your lips in a heated kiss

it’s so messy and harsh and you pretty much collided 

but holy shit

you were pretty sure fireworks erupted when you two kissed

years of pining and what had felt like unrequited love finally being resolved 

it’s the most satisfying feeling ever

you never want to stop kissing him

but alas </3 

when he pulls back, you’re both breathing so heavily 

you’re not sure if it’s the adrenaline or the kiss itself 

and he just looks at you and goes “did u tan while you’re away ur eyes look brighter” 

no sir i am in love with you

when you two officiate things 

he’s actually way shyer than he was as best friends??? 

like as best friends he wouldn’t feel slightly weird about hugging you in public or grabbing at your hand randomly or being seen alone with you

but now like

people know ??? and somehow that scares iwa 

or makes him uncomfortable 

idk he just feels iffy

but ur so understanding bless ur heart <3 

ur so careful with him and take it at his own pace 

zero pda at the start of the relationship 

like he won’t even wanna hug u in front of the seijoh team 

but slowly he warms up 

and he starts getting more comfortable with things like hand holding and occasional pecks on the cheek/lips 

your traditions as best friends don’t die as lovers 

if anything you believe in them even more 

now you watch more diligently during practice 

you proudly attend his games in his jersey, cheering the loudest for him (and for the rest of the boys bc they: best) 

walks home with you are so much more serene 

always gives you a kiss before he parts ways 

idk it’s like some sort of commemoration for your first kiss/confession 

unless you invite him inside 😏

this is so fucking long im so sorry i just love iwa 

anyways anybody want boyfriend!iwa headcanons i got a lot hehe 

to conclude, it was so gradual and inevitable with the two of you, and you’re forever glad it happened when it did and you hadn’t rushed anything <3333

oikawa tōru

unlike hajime, this wasn’t something that took one or two years

this bitch couldn’t admit he was in love with you for like 10 years okay 

you’ve known him for the majority of your life, because you’d always lived in close proximity to each other 

but you were never best friends yk? just acquaintances 

it was around the end of middle school when you two got close

cause you saw he was applying to aoba johsai for high school

and you were like !!! i’m going there too 

at first he was like stop copying me 😾 

you guys had a staring contest bc y’all are idiots and there were legit tears streaming down ur face but u were not about to lose to a pissbaby like him

he blinked 😁👍🏼

and he lost 

and then he decided “you’re my best friend now ” 

anyways aside iwa, he now had someone else he was going into high school with

like it’s a completely new environment but he had two people he very much liked going with him !!! 

when the time came around to like apply for/join clubs, you had been so clueless 

but toru stuck by you !! and he was so adamant on helping you !! 

he would sit with you after school as he practiced tossing with hajime and just brainstorm with you what you liked to do

it’s what brought you two closer together

cause you realized just how many things in common you had with him 

for a full week he tried to help you come up with something

for the sake of this hc let’s say u decide to join the newsletter club 

you’re very wary at first but then he’s like when ur part of it you’ll visit the vbc regularly so u can take pictures/observe to write essays 

the fact that toru would be there kinda set you at ease 

now you’ve never seen toru play properly 

he’s practiced in front of you before

plenty of times

but a proper match? or a practice one? 

never 

so it’s safe to say u were in awe when you got assigned to go watch a practice match against (idk pick a school) 

it’s embarrassing to admit but your eyes were on him the entire time 

thank god he became the captain later on else it’d be so sus 

you really tried to pay attention to anybody else lmfao 

it’s kinda what drew you to him more

you still didn’t really have feelings

you only realized just how passionate he is about everything 

at some point you had an essay to write for your newsletter about the volleyball club

but you were having a hard time like really getting into it

so you immediately just called toru and were like “help 😃” 

he came over and you asked him a bunch of questions, and he would go on deadass 20 min rants for each of them

you were just 

so amazed 

like how could someone have so much passion for something like this?

you realize how but that’s for later

overtime you two got closer bc of how much your work was associated with him

he’s incredible as a best friend 

he’s the first one with the school’s weekly newsletter as soon as it’s out

granted it’s to read the section about him but yk, the sentiment’s there 

also love, love, loves lazy days with you 

he doesnt even care if the boys know that he worships the chick flicks you two watch 

i feel like oikawa would be an avid anime watcher

idk why i just do 

so he’d be blasting anime theme songs on a speaker as you’re in the shower and he’s in your room waiting for you and you’re both just singing w the sound of water rushing down 

actually it’s not just anime songs it’s all songs 

a l l songs 

anyways

so you two get really close, and then he has a super important match coming up 

let’s say it’s the spring interhigh one against karasuno

the one they won

idk im just choosing at random 

and the night before he’s like begging you on text to wear his jersey

he’s like PLEASE NO ONE’S EVER DONE THAT FOR ME

you’re like bruh u have a cult following ????? 

but eventually u say yes

ur not really sure where it’s coming from but this is oikawa he’s an unpredictable as can be

when you show up in a jersey he so conveniently left at your house once

he’s so genuinely shocked even though he was the one that asked for this???

gives you the biggest hug like spins you around and just 

“you’re my lucky charm” 

when he wins 

after celebrating with his team

he runs over to you

and just

he kisses you

full on the mouth

it’s probably the rush and excitement of winning that gave him the courage to finally spill all his feelings out into this kiss

you’re in his jersey, in the stands and you genuinely feel like it’s only just the two of you

despite how sudden it was the kiss is so gentle, like he’d been planning it since forever 

“i told you you’re my lucky charm” he says as he rests his forehead against yours and kisses you gently again

oikawa had already been affectionate as your best friend

always displaying his love outwardly with like always calling out your name so loud whenever he sees you and giving you bone crushing hugs

deadass his 6’0 self will just jump on you 

but now it’s extra

makki always gags around the two of you but you just stick ur tongue out at him and go “ur just mad ur best friend’s getting some pussy/dick and ur not” 

makki then proceeds to shriek at you like a fucking banshee <3 

anyways 

yes 

oikawa best friends to lovers excellence is so cute eeeekkk

and now u always wear his jersey at games 

(u couldnt make it to the game against karasuno where they lost for whatever reason and he held it against u for the longest time)

(“maybe if a certain someone were there we wouldn’t have lost”)

what a big baby you love him

kuroo tetsurō

AH SEXY CHEMISTRY NERD 👅👅👅

kuroo as ur best friend 

im frothing 

i feel like you’d grow close after meeting at an event or something 

like you’re a friend of a friend of a friend 

i see kuroo as someone who’s so suave and cool and flirty with people he doesn’t have feelings for

but put the crush factor in and he’s a mess

like his brain just stops working

so when he first met you

he thought u were so fucking hot 

but that’s it

his lower body was doing all the thinking <3 

so he was so flirty 

and that’s essentially what your friendship is built off of 

and when friends are so flirty with each other, they generally grow close and trust each other really quickly 

ur not a nekoma student but ur in tokyo so you meet up often 

you just

it’s so nice to be around him

you find it so easy to just be yourself around him 

going out with him is super fun 

and a lot of the times you guys have study dates and you literally don’t talk except during the 10 min breaks you two take

it’s just hyper focus for the two of you which is great

he really channels the best student in you what a man ! 

i think during your third year of high school you two got insanely close

because you were highly unsure if you were gonna leave japan or stay 

so you wanted to make the most out of everything 

so you’d go out with him more often

he’d stay during the weekends and you two would like bake christmas goods all night even if it’s literally september lmfao

cuddling is so natural 

like you’re both so touchy with each other but not in a weird way just a super comfortable kind of way

like if you’re shorter than him, he’s always leaning his arm on you like you’re his arm rest 

it’s a win win bc he gets to touch you and tease you

wow the horny really jumped out in that one

anyways

you go to every single one of his games !!

cheer him on so!! fucking!! loud!!

you probably make a provocative sign and stand a chair and just wave it around and kuroo’s so heart eyes lmfao

the climb up to becoming lovers is so

natural? 

i think kuroo first realizes that maybe, yk, he wants those flirtatious comments to mean something and those random touches to hold more romantic value to them, when you two are out together

it’s a completely chill day and it’s not really warm not really chilly. you’re just comfortable 

he takes you to a park after buying the both of you ice cream from the stand across the street and sits down at a bench with you

just people watching 

and then it kinda goes really silent

but 

it’s not awkward??? like at all???

he’s not looking to fill the silence with any random words

he’s just

enjoying simply being with you

and he glances at you momentarily and it hits him like so hard just how pretty you are 

his eyes slightly widen like

holy fuck

what the f u ck

remember when i said he’s all cool until feelings come into play

yeah 😼

he literally freezes up and blurts out, without even meaning to, “i think i have feelings for you.” 

he really didnt even process he said that

you kinda

pause for a second

and then you realize what you said and you just smile and lean over towards him, lifting your thumb up to the corner of his lips and brushing away some ice cream

“you think?” you tease, and then at the spot where the ice cream was misplaced, you placed a gentle kiss

he kinda relaxes and then eyes you as he says, “i know.” 

it is just. heaven after that

i think the two of you would be less flirty around each other once becoming official 

like yeah he definitely comments once or twice every now and then and don’t get me wrong, so do you

but it’s just less frequent 

like a blanket has been lifted to uncover the true, hidden meanings behind the comments and you can now just breathe easier 

you two end up in the same uni on accident hevejsk

like you had a long ass talk about how it’s okay if you didn’t end up in the same uni you’d still make it work

and it would’ve worked tbh

fate just ships you two too much

when you told each other you were literally that spiderman meme of the two spidermen pointing at each other lmao

power couple of the uni

power couple of tokyo

power couple of japan

you’re literally so happy with him you wouldn’t trade him for the world 

and maybe you saw it coming 

but it still remains a shock whenever you wake up and he’s there laying next to you, smiling lazily at you before reaching over to give you a gentle kiss 

anyways happy early birthday king i love you kuroo hehe

end note; i really had a lotta fun w this one omg!! thank you again for requesting, anon, and i hope everybody else enjoyed!! feel free to request, mwah <3