#I will snitch on them every single time I don’t care

[onedirecton]

I’m going to move when my lease is up because I cannot staaaaand the music I can hear from my neighbours

[star-girl69]

Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

sypnosis: clarisse comforts you after a nightmare.

a/n: when luke in ep two said “we all get those super bad recurring nightmares�� i don’t think he expected for me to screech and kick my feet and make fanfiction out of it. anyways, i hope you all enjoy!!

Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby - Cigarettes After Sex

warnings: nightmares obvi, mentions of death, mentions of violence, kissing, soft clarisse I NEEEEDDDDD YOUUUUU, pretty much cutesy tho, not proofread, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

Clarisse always called you baby. She called you about every nickname under the sun, but she always came back to that one. That’s exactly how you ended up here in her bed.

You’re both not quite asleep yet, staring at the ceiling, listening to her siblings still shuffle around. Clarisse has the best bunk in the cabin, a single in the corner, and all the power and influence to make sure that no one snitches.

She only does this every once in a while, dragging you to her bed even while you worry about getting caught, calling you baby the entire time. She kisses your worries away and says that no one will care, no one will even notice.

It’s not like you’re doing anything bad, you’re just sleeping.

You recently got a new cabin mate, a very sweet boy who seems very scared and very young, but Gods does he snore extremely loud. You almost wonder if the healers should have a look at him- but he seems to have no clue that he snores.

You’ve dealt with snoring half-siblings for years, but none of them have been this bad before. It’s so loud you swear it sounds like a roaring truck.

And of course, Clarisse noticed. Clarisse noticed how hard it’s been to sleep lately, she noticed how you always seemed to reluctantly split up from her at the end of the day, she noticed the bags under your eyes.

As night continues to fall, Clarisse’s grip on you becoming looser as she slowly drifts off.

“Quiet, right?” she mumbles, kissing your forehead. You listen to her heartbeat. Much more comforting, much more rhythmic, much more her.

“Quiet,” you affirm.

“Good. I-I’ma fall asleep now. Night, baby,” she mutters, and you can feel her heartbeat slow and she’s out like a light.

Clarisse has always had this amazing ability to just knock out whenever and wherever. Even for a five minute power nap, she can lay her head on the table and be up and refreshed. Sometimes you even swear she closes her eyes and falls asleep standing.

You follow her.

It’s so quiet here, except for her breaths brushing against the top of your head, except for her heartbeat like a lullaby. It’s such a cold summer night, but you’re so warm in her arms.

Falling asleep is a lot like falling in love, because it’s all the same action of letting your guard down and letting something in. You fall asleep every night just like you fall in love with Clarisse every day.

—-

It’s cold. It’s so, so cold. There’s the ashes of a fire next to you, and you feel so startlingly alone, like you shouldn’t be alone.

You’re in the woods, but there’s sand on the ground instead of dirt and leaves. You’re in the woods, but there’s leaves on the trees even while you’re teeth chatter.

You stand up, bare feet sinking into the cold sand, your arms wrapping around yourself. You’re supposed to be warm in her bed. All your wearing is a t-shirt. It’s like you’re at the beach at night and you forgot the sun is the reason it’s hot.

There’s a whisper of a sound, like wind blowing, and the fire springs to life.

You gasp and jump back into a tree, the rough bark scratching at your back.

You look around but there’s nothing, no weapons, and the tree branches are too far up to rip one down. There’s no wood burning the fire, just ashes. But now that you look at it, the sand around the fire is covered in some sort of bubbling black liquid.

Only on one side, like it had been blown at it.

There’s some sort of slithering sound, like a snake, and talons dragging against a tree, like a knife.

It’s coming from above you.

You look up and barely have a second to realize a drakon is staring down at you, roaring right in your face, before it looks into your eyes and you can’t move. Can’t breathe.

You can’t do anything except for get swallowed whole.

—-

You jump up, blanket’s falling around you, gasping as you look around the dark room. But it’s not there, it’s not that weird place, it’s just the Ares cabin. It’s just Clarisse’s bed. It’s just Clarisse.

She shoots up right behind you, awake immediately.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you whisper, thanking the Gods none of her siblings have woken up to see you so shaken by a stupid nightmare. “Nothing, sorry.”

She looks out into the darkness like she’ll see something, but she doesn’t, of course, it’s all in your head. You know it’s all in your head, but you can’t help feeling like it’s real.

“It’s not nothing.”

You lay back down, pulling the blanket up to your chin. You stare at the wooden ceiling.

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” you finally mumble.

“Y/N.” She always calls you baby, except for when she really wants to get your attention. “Tell me what happened.”

“Stupid nightmare. It was stupid. It’s all stupid and embarrassing.”

You can feel Clarisse visibly deflate. She settles back down next to you, laying on her side.

“It’s not stupid,” she whispers. “It’s normal. For demigods, at least.”

“It doesn’t feel that way.”

You press yourself closer to her and she lets you, she wraps her arms around you tight and folds herself around you. You feel shaky and uneasy, like there’s something under the bed, no matter how childish you know it is.

“Tell me what happened and I’ll tell you how I would have fixed it,” she says, her lips brushing your temple. She adds after a moment, “Or kill it. Was it a monster?”

“A drakon,” you whisper. She hums.

“Did it breathe fire? Spit acid? Have those creepy paralyzing eyes?”

“All of it.”

“Ooh,” she mumbles, like it’s a challenge. “I would… blind it with the electricity from my spear. And while it’s distracted, I’d stab it however many times you wanted.”

“I didn’t like that place either,” you whisper. “It was so cold. So dark, and it was like a forest was on the beach, cold sand.”

She doesn’t say anything.

Her hand travels up your body, tracing your face until she draws circles at your temple.

“I can’t protect you from what goes on in here. But I’ll always be out here, baby.”

“I know,” you say, and it’s true. “I know you will be.”

“So you won’t mind me telling you eight more times?”

“No,” you breathe, smiling.

“Good,” she kisses your temple. “I’ll always protect you. I’ll always protect you. I’ll always protect you. I’ll always-”

You shut her up by pressing a kiss to her lips. She smiles against you, slow and sweet, just you and her.

She drags herself up on the pillow, so her head is above yours, her arm under your head. Her other arm around your waist, hand splayed flat against your side.

“Sleep now, baby.”

“Clarisse.”

“I’m right here,” she says, like it’ll solve all the problems in the world. Yeah, the cabin’s burning down, yeah, there’s a tsunami coming towards you- but she’s right here. She’s right here. “Nothing’s gonna hurt you, baby.”

And you believe her.

Clarisse always calls you baby. She whispers that name in your ear until you fall asleep.

—-

y/n, waking up: omg that was so scary

clarisse, fully ready to start attacking the air: WHERE THEY AT BABY WHERE THE DEMONS AT WHERE DO U SEE THEM

we love a gf who supports their slightly schizophrenic gf (me, i am the slightly schizophrenic gf)

—-

me after choosing a drakon (the monster that killed silena in the last olympian) as the monster that kills y/n in the dream 😊😊😊😊😊

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme

[faithst]

ZB1 AS TYPES OF BROTHERS

genre fluff

notes i don’t have a brother 🤞

masterlist<3

— zhang hao

the brother that keeps you in check 🫡

he’d ask ‘have you done your homework yet?’ and other things like chores so you don’t forget

isn’t too strict but won’t let you lay off until you finish everything you need to

he does this so that you can get stuff done quickly and survive in the real world 🤝

makes you learn a musical instrument to continue his legacy 😭

— sung hanbin

the very caring brother

there’s not a single day where he’d raise his voice at you or scold you 🫶

why? because that’s just not his nature

he’d always be patient with you

also always makes sure to check up on your well-being

your standards are very high bcuz of him 👍

— seok matthew

the best friend brother

he just seems like the type to love chatting w you

he’d share abt his day and you share abt yours

he’d know instantly if something’s bothering you

you’d tell him everything and vice versa, so he knows a bit too much abt you

def knows your deepest darkest secrets 🤫

— shen ricky

the secretive brother

as in, he doesn’t talk about himself or his day much

because he prefers to listen to others more so he listens to your problems alot

you don’t know much of his personal life but he knows alot abt yours

he’s not hiding anything, he just never thought to talk about personal stuff 😀

he’d be the type that if you hate someone, he’d hate them too

— park gunwook

the protective brother

protects you in every way possible

not physical fights tho cuz he doesn’t condone violence 💪

but he does condone it verbally (i’m kidding)

would secretly follow you on dates to make sure you’re safe 😭

it’s a bit privacy-invading but you know he just cares for you

— kim taerae

the cool/chill brother

the one who would bring you around with his friends so you won’t feel lonely

or drives you to places you wanna go

but you have to hear taylor swift blasting through the radio every time 😀

pays for your stuff most of the time

does karaoke w you to flex his great voice 😗

— kim gyuvin

the tattler brother

snitches on everything you do 🥲

he does this because he doesn’t want you doing anything illegal

babies you alot (have you seen him w yujin?!?)

would do anything for you 🫶

he would also keep a spare of everything incase you need it

— kim jiwoong

the parent brother (?)

could classify as your legal guardian

he does the most for you; picks you up from school, assists you with homework, gives you advice

the first to know when you’re having a bad day

if you’re feeling a bit sad, he sits there consoling you instead of asking questions

you trust him the most

— han yujin

your regular younger brother

sets you as his role model

teases you for things when in reality he’s jealous 👍

wants the same things you own

he would leave your door open after barging into your room 😭

would prefer to hang out w you than his friends imo

would love playing games with you

© keiwook

[livingfast04]

Monster Au? - Part 2

part one II part three I’ll post a snort snippet of Part three when I get ready to post this on ao3, or I might post this as just a tumblr thing. I’m not sure yet, I have kind of an idea of what I want. but also not really. However I also don’t want to conflict with “An Untuned Piano” (which if you haven’t read before you should totally go and do that-) and this was just a little break for my messy brain.  TW for Vomit- and a little body horror- (this hardly scrapes the surface of the terrible, terrible ideas I have. My poor little Hurt No Comfort Brain is mean)  ---

Steve hated how much he identified with the creature, with Frankenstein’s Monster. It made his skin prickle, that was his threshold for, for relating to a character. A creature whose creator turned on him- a creature that kills every person who had the capability to love him, and then himself.

Even now, tucked against the couch watching his friends pile together, touching in some way. Steve felt sick to his stomach, knotted and messy. He wasn’t sure what to think. His belly ached, and he wasn’t even sure if it was rebelling food he couldn’t process or if he felt like an outsider in his own space.

After everything, after 83’, after the Junkyard, and the Tunnels- the Demo-dogs, after Russians and the mall. 

After Vecna. 

Of the kids getting attached to Eddie, Eddie who is a vampire- Eddie who only lived because of that fact. Came out of the bats almost completely unscarred, unscratched- with a mouthful of blood, and fear in his eyes. 

Steve envied that, the quick healing, the way Eddie bounced back faster than any of them really, right next to Max and her single broken arm. The wolf sleeping in her bones pushing her further than Vecna could even dare to go.

Now they push into Steve’s space, into his house with little care for what Steve thinks. It’s their space, pack space, coven space. And Steve shouldn’t care because he’s human. Not wolf like Robin and Hopper, not Born-Witch like the Byers-Hopper Clan, not Made Witch like the Wheeler Siblings, not Dragon as the Sinclar siblings are, not Gremlin like Dustin or even remotely close to being a Vampire like Eddie- not, not- 

Steve was human, and it was just his house, and it shouldn’t matter if they want to stay in it for hours. It shouldn’t matter if Steve said no, if Steve didn’t want them there. It was their space now. He should enjoy having people in his house after being alone for so long- but the way they treat it, as if Steve’s the interloper.

It was driving him nuts. 

He couldn’t keep anything down, processed foods he wasn’t supposed to eat filled the tables- foods that Joyce cooked, or Hopper when he made breakfast. It was twisting around in his head, curling his stomach and turning it over.

It was his space, and he couldn’t mark it as his own. No, scratch that it was his father’s space. 

Why Hopper had no sway over him, why every forceful remark from Nancy stung. Steve wasn’t a part of whatever kind of pack had collected in his living room. He wasn’t allowed to be, not until he had his Father’s permission, or they recognized him as a part of it. 

And they hadn’t.

They probably never would. Not with the way they all seemed to dislike that Steve was even around half the time. But it’s fine, it’s okay. His skin crawls, all the perfect edges, the ones that he shapes, molds, covers up how bad the scars around his neck actually look, about how his stomach isn’t fully healed. His skin is struggling to stitch itself back together with the lack of proper care. 

Steve’s missing chunks, muscle, skin, fat- his body moves and changes. There’s limits, and caring for himself as he’s supposed to is hard when he’s supposed to wear human skin. He’s not supposed to wear it for one- he can’t heal like this. 

So all imperfections are covered, hidden away. Bites his tongue and hopes he can keep down whatever processed meal he’s eaten. Avoid Eddie’s imploring Vampire snitching gaze every time he tears a stitch. 

His stomach knotted painfully another time. And Steve was on his feet, don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t panic- It wasn’t discomfort this time, not with the saliva pooled on his tongue. He stumbled slightly, bile rising in his throat. His head spun as he stood, and his knees threatened to buckle-

---

Eddie watched with sharp eyes as Steve stood from his place on the couch, part of him wanted to coo, call out the other to join the pile. Curl around him and remind everyone that Steve was Eddie’s.

He worked his jaw as the younger boy shuffled out of the living room and down the hallway to the bathroom. Eddie’s sharper ears heard the sink turn on almost as soon as The door shut, which was unusual. Eddie twitched, disturbing Dustin who was sprawled across him.

Under the sound of water running was the sound of retching. Eddie’s face screwed up in sympathy. Oh damn, how long had Steve sat there feeling bad? How did Eddie not notice? Over everything, all the little things. With the way anxiety made Steve’s pulse beat far to fast- 

Eddie tapped Dustin’s side “Up.”

Dustin grumbled, a long drawn out why, as he wiggled around for a moment, but ultimately flopped off Eddie. Right on to Mike who let out a groan at the sudden impact to his ribs. Eddie ruffled his curls, pushing the boy's head around a little bit.

“Going to go check on Harrington.” Interrupting bonding time, the displeasure was loud in the air, but Eddie could hear Steve’s heart kick, thumping anxiously. And he couldn’t just leave it. Not with the way he’d watched the boy slightly stumble before all but bolting for the open bathroom door.

Not with how in tune he had accidentally become of the human. “He’s just in the bathroom-“ Nancy’s voice was rough, half asleep from where she was tucked between Robin and Jonathan. Eddie looked over the gathered group with raised eyebrows. He knows that some of them probably could hear Steve over the water running.

Eddie snorted, a little bit of a bitter sound. “Yeah Puking.” That startled Robin who jerked up right. Her ears weren’t completely useless like this, but there was a small chance that she wasn’t used to recognizing Steve as much anymore. The human had pulled back some from the group, Robin had been almost inconsolable for over two weeks over it. 

That she couldn’t recognize his footsteps, or his breathing patterns. That Steve was hardly around outside of work anymore, and it was devastating. They’d been bonded, they were bonded, a pair. Eddie had been sympathetic, but he remembers asking if she’d even talked to Steve about it.

Nancy had been more vocal in her displeasure for Steve’s actions. Eddie wanted to ask them if they knew that Steve smelled like blood, and healing. As if there wasn’t a clotting heavy smell of skin stitching itself back together. Maybe Steve was retreating because he was hurting, and uncomfortable. 

That the smell of blood wasn’t going away and it was making Eddie anxious.

“I’ve got him, Buckley. Lay back down.” Eddie moved around the pile of sleepy bodies, eyeing the adults in the kitchen as he passed, and then paused in front of the bathroom door. His feet quiet on the floor.

He tapped softly on the door, knocking his knuckles just slightly against the wood. The Retching hadn’t stopped, if anything the closer Eddie got he could hear just how painful it sounded. The smell of blood was underlying, and it set him on fire. That wasn’t right. It wasn’t. “Harrington? You alright?” The toilet flushed, not quite covering the gag that Steve made. Eddie knocked on the door again, leaning against the door frame.

“‘M fine, Ed’ie,” he didn’t sound fine. Eddie hummed under his breath.

“You don’t sound fine.” There was a pause, the water hadn’t stopped running, and Eddie was starting to get nervous. Steve’s pulse was jackrabbiting hard. “Can I come in?” He pressed his palm against the doorknob, the metal was frigid. Steve was quiet, and then Eddie hears another gag- and then what sounds like dry heaving. 

Fuck, okay- that’s, “I’m coming in Harrington.” Eddie pushes open the door, not locked- which is good, he really doesn’t want to break a door. The light isn’t even turned on, and it takes his eyes a minute to understand the difference. He steps fully into the space and shuts the door behind him.

Steve is hunched over the toilet, legs curled uncomfortably. “Go away Munson.” Eddie reaches out to turn the sink off, the handle squeaks. Before sinking down to sit on the small bathroom floor next to the other.

The smell of blood was thicker now that he was sharing the space. Eddie worked his jaw, pricking his lips slightly with his teeth. “Steve.” His voice is hard, and it draws wet hazel eyes to his face, they dart around slightly, before falling back to look at the toilet. “Are you bleeding?” Yes, Eddie knew this, could all but taste it, and it was making his skin crawl because it was wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

Steve’s whole form shuttered, curling tighter around the toilet. He retches again, and doesn’t respond. The bathroom didn’t smell like healing, and the blood that comes with it. It smelled like distress, vomit, and blood.

Eddie reached out to touch Steve’s shoulder, his body curled away from the outstretched touch. His creature hissed low in his belly, angry at the rejection, Steve was his. God he hated imprinting on Humans.

But this didn’t feel like flinching away from Eddie because he was well, Eddie. But rather a curl away because he was uncomfortable and touch wouldn’t help. So Eddie pulled back. He could hear Steve’s heart jackrabbit, the anxiety heavy in the air. “What can I do to help?” 

“Go away.” Eddie blinked, well fuck you to then. He huffed, standing up, offense now filling his chest.

“You are literally vomiting in your toilet- and you want me to just leave?” Eddie lowered his eyebrows, looking at Steve’s shaking form with something close to a glare. Steve didn’t even bother to look up. 

“I didn’t ask for your help, just go back- to, to the living room, and the pile of people who don’t live in my fucking house.” Eddie jolted, echoed into the porcelain and muffled as it was, there was almost a growl to the tone, low and sharp. Maybe Steve was spending too much time around them. Eddie hissed, mind realizing Steve was claiming their space-

He jerked up to stand, “Fine then, suffer by yourself. And it’s your house, but it’s our space.” 

Steve’s body was shaking harder as Eddie turned to leave, hands curled around the toilet seat, holding onto it. “Fuck off Munson.”

Eddie slammed the door behind him. Chest heaving, his whole body giving a hard shake, trying to rid himself of the smell of blood. He wandered back into the living room, flopped down in his spot, and curled around Dustin. “Eddie?” 

Robin’s voice was hesitant, he lifted his face slightly to look at her, “You okay?” Was Steve okay? She was anxious, that was telling from the way she was clinging to Max who had burrowed into her side. 

“Fine.” He bites it out, the word feels too sharp, but he was hot, and angry. 

He can hear Steve leaves the bathroom maybe 20 minutes later, and he goes upstairs instead of coming back to the living room. Maybe it’s for the better.

---

[retrieve-the-kraken]

Young Royals season 2 play-by-play analysis

This is where the season gets so fucking good I couldn’t even think properly, so this is where the “analysis” gets completely derailed and it’s just me going “AAAAHHH HNNNNGG OOOOOHH EEEEEEEEH SQUEEEEE” and just losing my shit over every single moment. The drama, the jealousy, the bottled up feelings, the tears, that kiss…

It was also so difficult to pick the gifs that I would be able to include in this post, because there were SO. MANY. MOMENTS. Thank you to all the people who constantly gif all these moments, for all the time and effort and quality (if there’s anything better than watching the kiss is watching every single part of the kiss on a loop, like I’m literally hypnotized).

EPISODE 4

“I don’t think Henry will snitch.” Oh Wille, you don’t know how gossipy boys are…

I hate that the girls are not only talking about Felice, but they’re not being discreet at all. Absolute bitches. Simon turns to look at Felice and smile. Is she the only person that Simon is friendly with in the choir? Poor Felice… (And how did he not hear the girls gossiping, if they’re being absolute bitches and talking way too loud?)

The first time Skott’s “Evergreen” plays and you realize that it’s about Sargust… uuuuurgh… and it never gets better… (the only thing that I will say about their relationship at this point, is that their first time together was very sweet and all about consent and protection, and I appreciate that, but… uuuuurgh, Sargust…)

Sara hearing about the rumours about Stella and Fredrika, and learning that Stella did not care at all. Stella, it feels to me, is being more and more open and rebellious, like if she gets found out because she said something then so be it, but not so about her feelings for Fredrika.

I like the girls’ way of being supportive, making fun of Felice in a harmless way, ensuring her that it’s not a big deal.

“But you should know that Felice only makes out with members of the royal family.” It’s like some sort of foreshadowing, now that Sara is technically with August and August is technically next in line for the throne.

“We should respect each other’s privacy!” Yes, Wille!

“So nobody was in your room yesterday?” FUCK YOU VINCENT, HE JUST FUCKING SAID… Fuck Vincent and his need to put people on the spot all the fucking time.

I hate that Wilhelm is so visibly uncomfortable, I hate that he’s obviously not wanting to share any more information because Simon is right there, I hate that Simon is obviously also uncomfortable and blindsided, and YET the boys just keep pushing the fucking subject. Toxic masculinity sheep mentality, dear god…

Simon didn’t end things with Marcus, and he knows that Wilhelm saw them kissing and probably felt horrible. Yet when he finds out that Wilhelm might have been with Felice, his first response is to seek out Marcus again… Poor boy doesn’t know what to do with his feelings.

“You wanna show me off to everyone there?” No, dumbass, just one person. Either Marcus is so dense that he really thinks he’s convinced Simon to want to be with him, or he’s so toxic that he thinks he’s already achieved it. Meanwhile Simon is still trying to convince himself that he can have a thing with Marcus, whatever it might be, a serious thing, a rebound, anything.

The burnball scene… still fucking gold. The seething look on Simon’s face, still so perfect. The force is strong with this one. Such a jealous, petty boy. I know I said that I wanted jealous Wille, which turned out to be exactly as I expected, a sad mopey mess; but I never expected jealous Simon, and I certainly didn’t expect this level of anger. Like Homer Simpson says “jealousy is when you worry someone will take what you have, envy is when you want what someone else has”. Whichever Simon might be feeling right now (pretty sure it’s jealousy, because he has not, as we have seen this whole season, been able to completely let go of Wille), I hope we get possessive Simon in the future. And I know it will be DE.LI.CIOUS…

(I want protective Wille and possessive Simon next season, pretty please.)

“You kinda have double standards.” Yes Wille, you tell him.

Simon’s little shrug when Wille asks if he and Marcus are official. Of course you don’t know, you’ve been gaslit into thinking you shouldn’t end things so quickly.

Fuck, Wille’s face when Simon admits that he can’t accept his family… it breaks me every time. He blurted it out, because he’s angry and jealous and confused, and he really means it, but as soon as he realized how much that revelation hurt Wille, he’s full of regret. There’s a horrible chasm between them, and Simon hates it. Star-crossed lovers…

The make up scene between Wille and Felice, oufff, makes me feel so much better. Poor Felice.

“Can you tell Simon that? That it can be a good thing?”

“Feels like I’m going to die… I have to let him go…” Poor baby. “Fun” fact: did you know that love is a form of chemical addiction, the main chemical being oxytocin, and that the sudden cutting off of the supply can give you withdrawal symptoms? That is why people feel physically ill when they’re heartbroken, it literally feels like their heart is breaking. Heartbreak also causes stress, which can have a real impact on a person’s physical health, and it can lead to depression, which increases a person’s sensitivity to pain and decreases their immunity. That’s why when Wille says he feels like he’s going to die, he’s so physically and mentally ill that it really feels like he’s dying. But letting go of Simon would be the beginning of his recovery, which would eventually happen… You can heal from a broken heart, but how long it takes depends on how deep or how long that love lasted. Meanwhile Simon is not entirely in physical pain, because he’s too busy trying and failing to distract himself/replace Wille with Marcus (placebo effect?) and also he has the advantage of having stolen Wille’s sweater to get a hit of oxytocin every once in a while (more on that in the next analysis). But Wille has it a little bit more rough. And the fact that Simon and Wille weren’t together for very long before they broke up, means that their love for each other was so deep and meaningful that it lead to profound heartbreak in no time at all.

That whole conversation with Nils. Nils is thinking about Wilhelm hooking up, whilst Wille wants something like what he had with Simon. Then Nils saying “one of us” again. Nils, just admit you want to bang him… Nils wants to take Wille to Verbier and present him with lousy options and for Wille to hopefully seek out the only person he actually knows over there… “Come on Wille, I got so many guys for you, so just pick me— I mean, pick one!”

(Would Wille have gone to Verbier if he hadn’t gotten back together with Simon at the end? Maybe, but he would’ve ended up in a room all by himself, crying over Simon).

Stella’s poem is so pretty and so sad… Then she immediately suggests to forego getting dates and for the girls to just go together to the ball. Sweetheart…

August’s face when he hears ‘military education’ and ‘next ten years’. Hmmm, not so into being next in line anymore, are you?

Sara just keeps hoarding secrets. The video, her relationship with August, and now August being the backup (and his use of ADHD meds even though he doesn’t have ADHD). She knows that going to the ball with August means that Felice and Simon will find out about them, and she knows they won’t be happy about it.

“Wille and I are just friends, and thank god for that, right? Dating someone in the royal family seems to suck ass.” Sara internalizing that information.

Wilhelm crying as he puts on the costume and makeup… my heart. I love Edvin’s explanation of it, how Wille is transforming into the image of the prince, even though he doesn’t want it, but he feels like he has no choice. This is after Simon told him that he can’t accept his role, this is after Nils told him basically that being out is a mess and that he should try to get with someone who is discreet. Poor baby is just so, so helpless.

Damn you August, being all sweet and romantic and making me feel bad about you… (Someone pointed out that the subtitles in english basically say that Sara tells him that she can’t go with him tonight, but what she really texts in Swedish is “we can’t be together anymore” or something along those lines… so she basically breaks up with him… over text. Even when it’s August, that’s got to hurt.)

Simon, what are you listening to whilst you stare intently at your fish?

By the way, this is the second time that Marcus just walks into Simon’s room uninvited. Asshole. He thinks he’s so smooth.

Never ever ever getting over Simon’s mischievous little look before saying “they don’t have names.” I need that on a t-shirt.

Felice looking FIYAH in her outfit and her natural hair. Love that she wanted to stand out but also feel like herself. More of this, please.

Is it me or did Wille take off the makeup? He doesn’t look particularly white-faced, like other people at the party.

Another secret for Sara’s hoard pile: Stella being in love with Fredrika. Poor Stella.

Simon going to the party with Marcus specifically to make Wille jealous. Meanwhile Wille is psyching himself to get over Simon, even if he’s miserable.

Marcus being like ‘you can stay at my place tonight, if you want’, and Simon automatically responding ‘okay’ because he’s not really paying attention, or he’s just going with it, he can say no later. And Marcus trying to get his attention by kissing him. Marcus, just give up, dude. You’re not it. You never were, never will be.

Alexander, who dislikes August so much for the way he treated him when he was prefect, and then for (as far as he knows) blaming the drug thing on him, rubbing it in that Felice and Wille are supposed to be together. Alexander you’re better than that.

But August telling Alexander the truth is one of the few moments in which August is honest, but for the wrong reasons. Just August being August, really. Stirring up shit (all because he’s miffed that Sara went to the ball without him). (Well, after learning that she actually broke up with him over text, I realize now that he’s a little bit more than just miffed.)

Wille psyching himself to be nice to Marcus, be all polite and show Simon that everything is cool, that they can just both move on… it’s so painful to watch, probably as painful as it was for him.

Simon asking “what was that? It seemed weird,” and then being unable to look at Wille, he’s acknowledging that he doesn’t like it, Wille being nice to Marcus, Wille acting like it’s no big deal, Wille being willing to move on too. He’s acknowledging that it feels weird to be strangers from now on. Simon being weirded out, like that’s it? No jealousy, no seething, nothing…? Baby, it’s what you wanted, or thought you wanted… There’s an ongoing debate about whether Simon wanted Wille to fight for him or not, like that’s why he’s so disconcerted when Wille is so polite. But he comes to learn that Wille is not like that, and that Wille is ready to put Simon’s wants before his own. And if that means letting him go, then so be it.

Meanwhile Simon’s facial expression, as it’s been pointed out, screams “shit fuck that did not go according to plan”. And Omar acts it out masterfully. (You can hear his brain short-circuiting, you can see the color draining from his face, you can feel the cold shiver going down his head and neck and back. “You don’t love me anymore”. Warning! Danger! Abort! Abort!)

His little smile and attempt at nonchalance, trying to pretend that everything is fine… but he’s literally hyperventillating. You can almost hear his heart thumping in his chest.

And baby Wille rushing out because he’s about to burst into tears… because he’s physically in pain… he can’t breathe, his legs don’t work properly… my heart…

August complaining that Sara seems like she only wanted to sleep with him. Self-worth issues, self-image issues… Sara saying that she doesn’t want things between them to end up like Simon and Wilhelm. “I’m not like Wilhelm, okay?” (Yes, you’re right about that, you are not like Wilhelm, Wilhelm would never.) But he doesn’t know what she’s actually referring to. She means that maybe being with someone from the royal family is too messy, and she would end up heartbroken, but he probably thinks she means something else. To him Wilhelm is the problem, because he’s not committed to his role as Crown Prince, he doesn’t want it enough, and August wants it so bad. What could possibly go wrong with that? What could Sara possibly be afraid of? He doesn’t get it. He also doesn’t understand that Wille is in love with Simon, he probably thinks that Wille is only mad about the video because it was a betrayal, because it outed him to the world, but Wille is also mad that this ruined his relationship with Simon too.

“Are you nervous?” “What?” Simon snapping defensively because he thinks Marcus is referring to what Simon is actually nervous about, that he’s seen through him.

“I’m just going to check something with the choir,” he lied dishonestly with his lying face. But if he had said he was going outside to get some fresh air or something, Marcus would have offered to come with him. Clever.

“I’m just trying to move on,” sounds like he’s saying it as much for himself as for Wille, like he’s trying to convince himself. He wants Wille to tell him “no, please, don’t move on”, but Wille is still set on letting him go, even though it makes him physically ill.

Why did he step into Wille’s space? Because it’s like magnetism, he can’t help himself, he can’t keep away. He’s saying one thing and doing another, because he’s short-circuiting. “This whole thing between us got so messed up,” he says right in Wille’s face, he’s so conflicted. He shouldn’t want this, he shouldn’t be so desperate for it, this can’t work… but the heart wants what the heart wants.

That kiss… that kiss belongs in every list of the best kisses of all time. Enough has been said about the kiss, so, let’s just watch it eight(y) times in a row and then let’s continue.

(Just an additional thought, Wille needs to take a moment because he can’t believe what just happened. He can’t even feel his face. He can’t believe it worked, he thought he’d really lost Simon. It turns out it’s true: if you love someone, let them go, and if they come back they are yours. He can’t believe it happened in less than five minutes. This has been a real rollercoaster of emotions.)

And then Marcus knows. Marcus looks sad, but you know what? Fuck Marcus. Fuck him for not letting Simon go when Simon wanted it. (But then maybe this was the way that everything needed to happen, for Wille to come to this realization that if he really loved Simon he had to let him go. And maybe Simon had to continue thinking that he could power through until he felt something for Marcus for him to realize that it’s pointless, that he was lying to himself as well as everyone around him, that he only wanted Wille.)

Wille really trying not to smile like an idiot. Because he’s so happy to have been kissed by Simon again, because he has hope again, and because Simon is singing… it a bit like the first time he saw Simon, and Simon was singing, and Wilhelm smiled for the first time in so long…

And Simon can barely contain his love, his relief, his joy at that moment. It’s the little half-blink for me that kills me every time.He has to look down, because if he keeps looking at Wille his face will betray all those feelings. Also he’s so pretty‼

(This whole episode was all about Wille realizing that he needs to let Simon go, to put Simon’s feelings ahead of his own, even if it’s at the cost of his own happiness; and about Simon coming to terms with his true feelings, with realizing what he really wants, despite what everyone else tells him he should do or feel. And when those two things combined… magic and beauty).

This episode was brought to you by JEALOUSY ™.

[pegging-satan]

THEIR HAIRSTYLES ARE SO OVER THE TOP AMD EXTRA like who’s their hairstylist and follow up question; do they share the same one

Because it would be so funny if the agency and port mafia have the same hairstylist, who knows, to every minute detail, what’s going on in both the agency and the mafia, from every single member. And it’s not like the mafia kidnapped a hairstylist and made them work for them or anything. It’s just a normal ass salon and every other day a mafia member or an agency member walks in, demands that same hairstylist because only they “get” their stupid hyper specific haircut.

So this hairdresser is like this archival all-knowing being but they never divulge any secrets or anything because they ain’t no snitch. Like imagine a super epic fight and the whole city’s burning except for this one hair salon where it’s just business as usual. And it’s so much fun imagining them talking about their struggles with each other like

“Chuuya’s such a darling but he’s also so angry all the time. Actually, on hindsight Kunikida is also constantly angry. I wonder why”

“If that idiot Dazai doesn’t stop trying to kill himself i swear I’ll do it for him”

“I want to kill that weretiger but unfortunately I’ve grown a little fond of him. I hate to admit it.”

“I didn’t get why someone would want to kill someone else but then I met Akutagawa. I like to imagine killing him but I kinda don’t want to. I mean he did. slice off my leg and stuff but I like to forgive and forget ya know?”

“I’m constantly worried about what would happen after I’m gone” “haven’t you put kunikida in charge?” “No I’m not worried about that. It’s just that Ranpo and the cats can be quite the handful sometimes and he already has his hands full with Dazai you know? Yeah keep these strands a little longer this time, I like them. A little less off the top too, thank you”

“So anyways yosano took me to the bar with her the other day. I didn’t know they made fancy schmancy cocktails so i told them to make it extra sweet because I hate the taste of alcohol. I’d much rather be drinking pop but I thought I should try something new for a change. Anyways that’s how I found out I was a lightweight” “are you even old enough to be drinking” “I’m twenty six” [surprised pikachu face]

“For a large part I don’t really care what my executives do, as long as they get the job done and keep trivial issues away from me. Anyways make these slut strands a bit more bouncy than the rest of my hair. I think fukuzawa likes it that way. He won’t ever admit it though”

[herehavesomeheadcanons]

On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me… Five Golden Bois!

Aaaaa sorry this one's late, I was busy yesterday and didn't have time/inspiration to write it! But it's here now!

Kenji Miyazawa

💛🐄Kenji adores the Christmas season, though it was celebrated differently in his little home town. He's excited to learn all the big city traditions!

💛🐄Kenji loves helping out with the decorating! He helps out with a lot of the heavy lifting, such as carrying big boxes of decorations up and down the stairs. He also asks Kunikida’s advice for where he should put everything. A wise decision, as Kunikida will lose his ever-loving mind if one single decoration is out of place. Dazai likes to mess with him by moving the decorations when he’s not looking, but Kenji snitches on the suicidal maniac like the good little boi he is.

💛🐄He adores Christmas music, and would love to go caroling. He doesn’t know a lot of the newer, pop song carols, but he likes them regardless!

💛🐄His village didn’t have electricity, so Kenji has never seen a Christmas movie before. He’s super excited to cuddle with you and watch them! He definitely enjoys some of the more childish classics. Don’t worry, he’s very gentle. He’ll probably fall asleep during the movie after eating all the snacks!

💛🐄Kenji does know about decorating gingerbread houses. He loves it dearly, but once he’s finished he eats the whole thing. That’s just how they did it in his village, nothing goes to waste. He’ll eat yours too, if you’re not going to! He would love to have a snowball fight with you, just make sure you tell him to be careful. Remember, his ability is super strength. He’s never heard of the mistletoe tradition, so don’t expect him to understand the significance of standing under a poisonous plant.

Finnian

💛💐Finni loves Christmas the most out of the Phantomhive servants. I'm not certain what else you expected from the sweetest cinnamon roll in the show!

💛💐As much as Finni would love to help with the decorating, Sebastian takes care of it. Every time poor Finni has tried to help out, it hasn’t ended well. If you let him help decorate with you he’ll be ecstatic!

💛💐Finni loves Christmas carols, and he’ll sing them as he works. There isn’t much gardening to do in the winter, but he helps carry things around.

💛💐Unfortunately, Christmas movies didn't exist back in Victorian times, so we have to use plays instead. Finnian has never been to one before, but if you take him to one he will thoroughly enjoy it! He’ll probably try to cuddle you during it! Just make sure you tell him to be gentle, remember he doesn’t know his own strength!

💛💐Gingerbread houses with the Phantomhive servants are really something. You’ve got to make them from scratch, for starters. Sebastian probably takes care of it, if we’re being completely honest. Last time he let the servants bake their own gingerbread… well… with Bard’s pyrotechnic obsession, you can probably guess how well that went. Even with Sebastian baking the gingerbread, the kitchen is still a mess by the time you’re finished! Finni gets a little too excited with the sprinkles… Snowball fights are a disaster as well. Actually, everything is a disaster.

Alphonse Elric

💛🐱Al is a lot more into the Christmas spirit than his brother. Being the sweet little bean he is, he loves spending time with people he cares about!

💛🐱Pre-Promised Day, Al was the decorating champion. Being a 7 foot tall suit of armor really makes reaching all those high places a lot easier. Ed probably stood on his shoulders for even more height! Post-Promised Day, he’s still the decorating champion because he’s still taller than Ed! Ed is still going to stand on his shoulders to reach the high places. You’re definitely going to have several heart attacks because of their antics!

💛🐱Al enjoys Christmas music, and can tolerate it a lot more than his brother can. He loves the sweet Christmas carols about love and family and peace on Earth!

💛🐱Again, We’re just assuming that Christmas movies exist in Amestris because it’s funny and I need more content. Al is perfectly happy to snuggle and watch any Christmas movie you choose! His favorite is probably Santa Clause is Coming to Town.

💛🐱Al isn’t nearly as competitive as Ed when it comes to snowball fights. He’s very concerned with not hurting you, or his brother! Ed takes full advantage of this and wins every snowball fight. Al thinks mistletoe is such a cute tradition, and he hangs it every year. He thinks it’s especially cute when Ed and Winry get trapped under it. Al also makes the cutest gingerbread houses ever! But then he gets sad when it’s time to throw them away…

Denki Kaminari

⚡👍WOOHOO!!! IT'S CHRISTMAS!!! Denki is absolutely ecstatic about Christmas every year! He's also just enthusiastic about the 2 week break from class (shhh, he’s a little bit stupid but we still love him-)!

⚡👍Denki thoroughly enjoys decorating the dorms with the rest of class 1-A. He’s not the most artistically talented, so he tends to just follow Iida’s orders. A wise idea, since Iida is ridiculously uptight about the decorations. Seriously, it's a bit of an issue.

⚡👍Denki loves Christmas music, particularly pop songs. All I Want for Christmas is You is a classic for him. He’s also caught up on all the latest Christmas music.

⚡👍Christmas movies!! Hell yeah!! Denki is a cuddly little shit, so he loves movie nights with you! He doesn’t really care which movie you want to watch, he’s just happy to spend time with you!

⚡👍Snowball fights between classes 1-A and 1-B. Need I say more? Bakugo gets way too competitive and goes after Deku most of the time, even if they’re on the same team! Unless Monoma happens to open his big mouth and attract Kacchan’s attention. Then the angry pomeranian will target him. Iiida and Bakugo also keep arguing and trying to direct class A like it’s the middle of a war or something. Everyone is freezing and soaked to the skin by the time you’re ready to quit! Momo makes hot chocolate for everyone from both classes, like the queen she is. Denki loves mistletoe, and will attempt to trap you under it every 5 minutes. Just… go along with it. Just give him the attention he craves.

Naruto Uzumaki

💛🍜Does Christmas exist in Naruto??? We're gonna say that it does because why the heck not. Contrary to what you might think, Naruto Uzumaki doesn't actually like Christmas. Being an orphan who was bullied his whole life, seeing other people be happy with their families upset him greatly. This does get better as he gets older, and when he gets to spend Christmas with you!

💛🍜Naruto loves decorating, but his artistic style is lacking a little bit. He's got spirit, just not talent. You may have to help him out… or just tell him where to put things. Or move them when he's not looking!

💛🍜Naruto used to hate Christmas music, but he's growing to like it the more Christmases he spends with you!

💛🍜I’m honestly not certain if Christmas movies exist in Naruto but if they do, Naruto would love to watch them with you. He craves the cuddles.

💛🍜Gingerbread houses are a disaster (hands up… who’s surprised?). Like the excited child he is, he uses way too much frosting. And sprinkles. His house looks like an overly excited toddler got into the candy bin and frosting. He’s also somehow gotten himself coated in the frosting and sprinkles. Oh dear oh dear snowball fights. This little shit likes to cheat with his shadow clone jutsu, and Kiba gives him shit for it every single time. It’s gotten to the point where snowball fights end up as you and Naruto (and his 100 clones) versus everyone else. You were expecting me to mention mistletoe, weren’t you? Well you’re right. And you are correct in guessing that he is going to come up with ridiculously complex plots to trap you under it.

[kierreras]

i’m now rewatching first two seasons of obx in order to prepare for the new one and there is one thing that drawn my attention for this rewatch. i am pissed at how relationships were formed previously and i am so glad that we are getting slowburn with jiara because they are the healthiest canon (ish?) relationship that we could have in obx right now so, i love jarah. i really do, i think they simply click together. i am not a huge shipper because of the whole fastburn romeo-juliet kind of love not being my thing, but they simply work for me. still their beginning is not the healthiest. before they went to mainland together, we saw how john b reacted to sarah. one scene in particular stand out for me - when ward fired him after stealing scuba and he literally went and released his anger on sarah. which, let’s be honest, is really out of character for him. he threw away her bag of chips and the way he talked to her (or yelled at her?) was really bad. i understand that this was his job and he was convinced that it was sarah who snitched on him, but it does not give him a permission to act like that with any girl. also, when john b found out that ward knows about the gold and went to cameron’s - let me tell you if i was sarah i would have screamed. i know that after that there was no indication of such a behaviour from john b, but those two scenes totally imprinted in my memory.  moving on to pokie, where do i start? first of all, you cannot guilt force someone into a relationship. and i honestly think that this was guilt-forced from both sides. pope was the one who acted so salty for no reason. when you are rejected, you are rejected. you can feel all the emotions you need, but you can’t be mad at another person for simply not feeling the same way. yes, rejection in such a young age sucks, but processing the rejection by painting another person as a villain cannot be okay. from kie’s point of view, i can see her clenching to pope because she has just lost her best friend and she could not lose another one. was it healthy to cope this way? totally not, but it could be justifiable.  i am not so negative on them having sex. it was unnecessary, yes, but it is realistic. because you know that it’s not working, your relationship does not make you happy, so you go full on, trying for it to work. using sex as a last straw to make it work. and breaking up after first time is so real. every friend i know broke up with his first time partner. and it’s okay, this is how life works.  however, again being petty and playing on guilt is not justifiable.  i am even going to start with sarah/topper because topper is just a massive red flag. so, moving to two couples that were left out of this list? jiara and cleope. listen, there is only one scene with jiara that i treated as scene with toxic vibe and i know that many people would not agree with me. however, there is a scene where jj shakes her shoulders near the car in one of the last episodes of season two, i don’t like it. i just don’t like when there is an angry touch involved. and i know that it could be interpreted as jj’s inability to show emotions in stressful situations because of his abusive childhood, but it wasn’t on my mind when i first saw this scene.  other than that, there is no single scene that i interpreted as kind of a red flag. the way writers handled them, their silent communication, the way they care about each other. their banter is always light and the only time they were accusing each other was during their incident with pope’s camera. still, jj yealling “why are you always taking his side? why are you never on mine?” doesn’t sound like he is angry at kiara, it is just him feeling hurt, that’s all. so jiara could potentially have healthy start which not many obx ships had, just saying. as for cleope, i am sure they are going to be sweet and their second-love trope has so much potential by default. also, no past is hanging above their head for now, no family drama, so they potentially could have a very healthy story of healing broken heart and falling in love again. and i’m here for it.

[starryhyuck]

limit. (m)

pairing: gryffindor!mark x reader

words: 3.4k+

summary: with gryffindor on a continuous losing streak, you have no choice but to push your quidditch player boyfriend to his breaking point.

genre: smut

warnings: public sex, overstimulation, squirting, oral sex, degradation, daddy kink, face slapping

“If you keep pushing him, he’ll snap.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for.”

You observe Mark across the Great Hall, fingers clenched tightly around his spoon. The other Gryffindor seated beside him are eyeing him warily, afraid the resident happy Head Boy was slowly losing his mind.

This, of course, is partly due to you.

You’ve refused to give Mark an orgasm until Gryffindor wins a Quidditch match, which has effectively been very hard since the team has been on a losing streak. You and Mark aren’t animals, per se, but the two of you fucked regularly and the fact that he hasn’t gotten the chance to touch you in weeks is taking a toll on him.

Lucas swings an arm around his shoulder and whispers something to him, but Mark’s eyes are locked in on you. You could almost feel the magic radiating off of his form. You smile deviously, arm reaching to wrap around Donghyuck’s, who gladly accepts your touch. Luckily, Donghyuck enjoys pushing Mark’s buttons almost as much as you do.

Donghyuck’s in the middle of feeding you a bite of his chicken when all of the glasses in the Great Hall shatter. A jumbled murmur of shrieks and gasps of surprise echo at the performance of wandless magic. Students whip their heads around, frantically trying to find the source of the fiasco. You already know who the culprit is, watching as Mark stomps out of the Great Hall, fists clenched tightly.

—

Donghyuck snickers beside you.

“You’re really asking for it. Wearing Slytherin gear and sitting with the snakes? He’s going to ruin you.”

You roll your eyes, brushing off his comment and adjusting the green tie wrapped around your neck. You briefly lock eyes with your irate boyfriend, who is currently on the Quidditch pitch, waiting for the match to begin. You smile and wave at him innocently, only to receive the nastiest look in return.

Donghyuck laughs again at the exchange. “I’ve never seen Mark look like that. Are you sure you’re ready for the consequences?”

You grin as the game begins, the cheering sounds from the Slytherin stands almost drowning out your voice.

“He needs a little push. Gryffindor has lost three games in a row already.”

You prove Donghyuck right a hour into the game. Mark has been scoring goal after goal since the match started. Slytherin’s Keeper tries to block every single throw, but Mark is clearly on a mission, showing no mercy to the Slytherin house. He almost looks like he would Avada someone on the spot just to win.

Every time he scores, he makes a point to look straight at you before zooming off. You smirk to yourself, already feeling your panties dampen at the sight. One part of you is slightly afraid of what Mark will do to you once Gryffindor wins. The other part of you is unabashedly excited.

The Slytherins around you groan and complain as Mark continuously scores. Donghyuck is enjoying the show, knowing you’re truly in for it later after seeing the murderous look painted on Mark’s face.

The game ends after two hours, with the Gryffindor Seeker securing the Snitch and winning the match. The sea of red erupts in a roar of applause and cheers, while the Slytherins grumble and curse their luck. It was the first loss of the season for the Slytherins, and they could all thank your boyfriend for that.

Usually, when Mark wins a game, you would wait outside the locker rooms and congratulate him with a kiss. This time, you want to make him work for it a little more.

Donghyuck chuckles when he sees you turn the opposite direction of the locker rooms.

“You’re in for it now.”

—

You’re laughing at something Doyeon’s telling you when you feel the abrupt tug on your arm. You hiss at the contact, ready to hex whoever it is. Realization seeps within you when you see the look of fury on Mark’s face as he tugs you away from your friends.

“I’ll see you guys later!” You call out, already feeling the slick of your wetness coating your thighs.

“Okay! Great game, Mark!”

The Gryffindor boy doesn’t even thank them, pulling open the door to the empty Potions classroom and shoving you inside. You put on your innocent persona.

“That wasn’t very nice. I was having an interesting conversation with Doyeon, if you must know.”

“On the desk. Now.”

The anger laced in his tone has your body vibrating. You decide to push him even further, frowning and clutching your books tighter to your chest. You still have Donghyuck’s Slytherin scarf wrapped around you, which Mark is heavily glaring at.

“I don’t even get a please? Where are your manners, Mark?”

You gasp when he steps forward, fingers bunching around the locks of your hair and pulling. Hard.

“You think this is so funny, don’t you? Watching me fall apart, breaking all the glasses in the Great Hall and receiving detention for it? How about wanting to injure someone on the field just so we could win? Just so I can come back to you, fuck you so hard your tight cunt stretches out.” His fingers grip the fabric of your skirt and he growls. You swear you can feel your juices start running down the inside of your thigh with how wet you are. “And what about this? This stupid fucking little skirt. You think you could get away with that too?”

You placed a charm on your clothing early this morning, making your button-up shirt just a little tighter around your chest and your skirt a little shorter than normal. You smile and try to raise your chin as much as possible, struggling as Mark continues to pull your hair.

“Daddy likes it? I did it just for you. Just so Daddy could win today.”

Mark’s eyes are the darkest they have ever been, and you try not to glance down at his trousers, which are probably straining from his growing erection. You only play the Daddy card once or twice, mainly because once it’s out in the open, Mark fucks you until you can’t feel your legs. And most days, you would prefer not to limp from class to class.

Another gasp rips out of your throat when he discards your clothing with the flick of his wand. He casts a silencing charm on the room, and you know you’re done for.

He leaves you in your undergarments, and today, you have chosen to wear a nice lacy number in Slytherin green. The sight makes him hiss in frustration, and it isn’t long before he slams you down on a nearby desk. You whimper at the contact, but Mark hardly cares about your well-being at this point.

He snickers at the sight of your ruined underwear, snapping the garter you’re wearing against your skin as you yelp.

“Look at you. Greedy little slut. Who got you this wet?”

“D-Donghyuck,” you manage to say, gathering enough courage.

The answer earns you a slap across the face and you cry at the pain.

“Wrong answer. Try again.”

“Y-You, Daddy. Just y-you.”

He hums in contentment. You shudder when you feel a finger run up and down your slit. “I’m going to make the rules very clear today. You’ll do your best to obey them, or else I’ll use your body how I please without letting you cum. Understood?” At your timid nod, he continues. “I’m going to fuck your tight little cunt raw. I’m going to cum as much as I like, and make you cum as much as I like. If I hear any protests, I’ll add an extra orgasm to the list. I don’t care if you’ve reached your limit. I don’t care if you can’t handle any more. I’ll do whatever I like, and there will be no arguments about it.”

You chew on your bottom lip. Mark has never fucked you raw before — you both always use Muggle condoms or contraceptive charms.

“But, Mark-“

He slaps your clothed slit and you gasp loudly. “That’s another orgasm added to the list. Do you want another one? We’re already at five.”

Your eyes widen. You’ve never been able to take more than three orgasms from him without passing out. You immediately shake your head, sealing your lips tight.

“Good. Bend over.”

You scramble to follow his orders, shakily positioning yourself over the desk. Another flick of his wand and you’re completely naked. You whimper at the vulnerability, wondering if he also cast locking charms on the doors too. Anyone could walk in and see you bent over like this.

Mark usually likes to see your face when he fucks you so you’ve never really tried this position with him. Goosebumps rise on your skin when you feel his hands exploring your backside.

“Wish everyone could see you like this for me. Bent over during dinner while I fuck you into the table. They always tease me about you. Gryffindor Head Boy could never satisfy his partner. They think I’m such a goody-two-shoes.” You almost scream when a finger unexpectedly pushes into you. “I wonder what everyone would think now — having you bent over the Potions desk like this, eager to be fucked like a little whore. Waiting for my cock to split you apart, isn’t that right?”

“Y-Yes, Daddy,” you garble.

He adds another finger, the squelch of your wetness causing you to grow even warmer. He thrusts his fingers inside of you, skillfully digging them into the spot you love.

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about your cunt? Ever since you made that ridiculous bet with me, I knew I was done for. I had to excuse myself so many times from class just to rub one out in the bathroom. Seeing you in this cute little skirt, so eager to earn House Points, so willing to please the professor. I imagined how tight your pussy would feel when I wrapped a hand around myself, how many of those sweet moans I could bring out of you.”

When he pushes a third finger in, you shriek as you cum without warning. You were probably moaning without any sense, writhing on top of the desk as Mark fingers you through your orgasm. He drank up every single one of your sounds, gazing down at you with a feral look in his eyes.

Even as your orgasm subsides, Mark doesn’t stop fucking you. You almost request for him to give you a break, but you know it’ll just earn you another orgasm.

He watches you, waiting for you to beg for him to stop. He smiles when you obey, continuing to thrash and whine as his digits pump into you.

“So pretty, perfect for me. You’re always so tight, it’s not fair to me, you know? I could fuck you every single day and you would still need to be stretched out regardless.” He leans over your frame, mouth beginning to press open mouthed kisses at your throat. The sensation has you jolting, his fingers grinding down to rub at your clit. “But you would like that, wouldn’t you? So hungry for my cock.”

This was true — you couldn’t seem to get enough of Mark on a daily basis. Even if you didn’t fuck every single day, you always had the urge to get on your knees for him and suck his cock. It calmed you in a way. Before exams, Mark would pull you into a nearby alcove and let you suck him off until your worries disappeared.

You could feel your high approaching again. “P-P-Please,” you stutter, gasping and pushing yourself further down his fingers. “Please, Daddy.”

At the sound of your begging, Mark sinks to his ground. He jerks your body until you’re halfway off the desk, pushing your thighs apart so he can see you fully. He takes a moment to marvel at how pretty you are before licking a stripe up your cunt. You groan, fingers tangling into his hair, which is still slightly damp from his after-game shower.

He hums against your folds, exploring them with his tongue. Mark could eat you out for days and remain unbothered by the outside world. There have been multiple times where you’ve woken up to his head in between your legs as he snuck into your dormitory room early in the morning to get a taste of you. There’s also been a few occasions when he would convince you to sneak out while he runs patrol in the hallways, just so he could prop you against a wall and eat you out until you cry.

Your eyes flutter closed as you revel in the feeling of Mark’s mouth on your cunt. He’s groaning with you, hands cupping your thighs and bringing you closer to him. His nose continuously nudges your clit as he licks you, slurping on the remnants of your orgasm.

It doesn’t register for a few seconds that he’s still talking to you.

“This is mine. My cunt for fucking. I’m the only one who’s allowed to see you like this, understand? The only one who gets to make you cum.”

He is, indeed. You topple headfirst into your second orgasm, juices spilling into Mark’s waiting mouth. He cleans you up as your body attempts to recover. You’re lucky he remembered to place a silencing charm, your voice almost giving out with the amount of screams you’ve emitted. He decides to spare you this time, rising from the ground and licking his lips.

“Tastes so good.” He smirks down at you, watching as your chest rises and falls from heavy panting. You feel like you’ve run a marathon, but he looks like he’s only just started. His fingers brush stray hairs away from your face. “Poor baby. All fucked out already? I haven’t even given you my cock yet.”

You blink deliriously in response and he laughs. His fingers dig into your hips once more as he adjusts you on your back again.

“How about you answer a question for me? If you answer correctly, I’ll give you my cock. If you fail, I’ll add another orgasm to the list.” You blink again in response, brain fuzzy. He grins. “Why don’t you tell me what a bad girl you’ve been these past few weeks?”

He slaps the inside of your thigh to jolt you out of your reverie. “I-I was a b-bad girl, Daddy.”

“Hm? And why’s that?”

“I ignored y-you,” you whisper as his hand cups your breast, tweaking your nipple between his fingers. “I cheered for S-Slytherin when I-I should have b-been c-c-cheering for Gryffindor.”

Your breath grows more shaky as Mark’s other hand inches towards your entrance again.

“And?”

“And I f-f-flirted with D-Donghyuck when I’m o-only s-s-supposed to have e-eyes for y-you, Daddy.”

“And?”

“And I charmed m-my clothes t-to tempt you.”

“Because?”

“Because I’m a whore.”

He smiles in contentment. “That’s right.”

Instead of pushing his fingers inside of you, you’re taken aback when the tip of his cock sinks into you. You moan loudly, not even noticing he had taken off his trousers.

“Fuck,” he curses, watching himself push into you. “Such a tight little cunt. Only for Daddy’s eyes, right?”

“Y-Yes, Daddy.”

His fingers find their way to your throat, curling and gripping your windpipe. You gasp and hear his sinister chuckle.

“There’s my little whore. Back in her place.”

He almost pushes you off the desk with the force of his thrusts. You have another small orgasm when Mark fully bottoms out, and he laughs when he realizes.

“Already? Looks like you’ve been just as desperate as me, baby.”

You’ve never taken more than three orgasms before. Since Hogwarts was a big school with many prying eyes, it was hard to get alone time with Mark like this. You often had to face the judgmental glares from the portraits whenever Mark fingered you behind one of the tapestries. Now that he has you all to himself, however, he intends to make the most out of it.

You’re pushing on the border of exhaustion, watching as your boyfriend continues to furiously push into you. He moves his hand from your throat to your cheek, slapping you once more to wake you up.

“Have to stay awake, baby. We still have two more to go.”

You mumble incoherently in response, past the point of comprehension. Once the tip of his cock rubs against your sweet spot, you cry out in pleasure. He grunts, angling himself so that he keeps hitting that spot inside of you. Over and over.

“M-Mark, I-“

“I know. Let me feel you, baby. Want to feel your cunt cum all over Daddy’s cock.”

You can’t begin to explain the tightening feeling in your stomach. You feel like you’re flying up to your peak at an unsteady rate. It almost feels like you need to use the bathroom, but before you can warn Mark, you fall apart.

You think you black out for a bit. You blink dazedly, body twitching and nervously moving on top of the desk. You get the strength to lift your head and check on Mark. His cock has slipped out of you, his gaze locked on your pussy.

“M-Mark?” You ask softly.

“Fuck, baby. You just squirted all over me.”

You gasp. You’ve never been able to squirt before and you eye the mess you’ve made all over Mark’s chest. He grunts, fingers pumping up and down his cock.

“Fuck fuck fuck. How can you be so perfect?”

And then he’s pushing back into you. You scream loudly, still trying to recover from such an intense orgasm. You realize that you’ve started crying, tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Perfect girl for me,” he hisses, hand returning to paw at your breast. “Cunt is so so sweet. Can never get enough of you. Just give me one more, baby. One more.”

You want to tell him you can’t, you’ve reached your limit and can’t push it any farther. You squeal when he pinches your clit.

“Daddy, please-“

“Daddy wants another, baby. One more for me.”

His thumb circles your clit while his cock pistons in and out of you. When he finds your sweet spot again, he doesn’t rest. He’s on a mission to get you to orgasm again, the same expression painted on his face from the Quidditch game just a hour ago. He’s determined to see you fall apart, filth spewing from his mouth.

“I wish I could take you like this every time. Push you up in the hallways, fuck you until you’re a sobbing mess for me. Having everyone watch while I make you squirt, showing them I can fuck you better than anyone else can. I bet they would all be jealous. They could never have you falling apart for them, begging for them to fill you up with their seed.”

It dawns on you that Mark still hasn’t cast a contraceptive charm of any kind. He seems to be on the same wavelength as you, digging his heels to the floor and thrusting harder at the thought of cumming inside you. The lewd sound of your wetness fills the room, along with his grunts and your whimpers from oversensitivity.

“I want to fuck you everywhere before we leave this place. Want you to ride me in the middle of the Quidditch pitch for everyone to see. Want all the Gryffindors to watch as their Head Boy plows into his girlfriend in the common room. Want you to bounce on my cock during every meal. Fuck, I want you so badly, baby.”

When you squirt this time, you’re coherent enough to watch it happen. Drops of your slick pour out of you, gushing onto Mark’s cock and the floor. The sound of his thighs slapping against yours only grows louder and wetter with your orgasm.

Mark hisses. “Want my cum, baby?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you echo back to him, barely staying awake.

He groans when he reaches his high, pushing deep inside of you to empty his load. He cums more than you expected, but you suppose he’s been holding it in for weeks. He finally finishes a minute later, collapsing on top of you. He subconsciously places kisses on your neck.

“Never act up like that again. I don’t think I have the stamina to do another round.”

You giggle, about to respond when the booming voice of your Potions professor echoes throughout the room.

“Mark Lee! What on earth do you children think you’re doing? Fifty points from Gryffindor!”

[little-diva-gurl]

You are the best drug I consume

Elliot x Reader

Warnings: drug addiction, sexual thoughts

Word Count: 1.4K

Have you ever felt like every time something went wrong you could just wrap yourself up in a blanket like a burrito and ignore everything that goes on in the world? Better yet, I could’ve asked if you ever felt like a plastic bag drifting through the wind wanting to start again?”, but those are just lyrics from Firework by Katy Perry. Well my drug of choice and ONLY drug is weed, Mary J, marijuana, cannabis, etc. it calms all anxiety, depression, anger, majority of the negative feelings I get on a daily basis.

It’s my sense of Euphoria, and no one will be taking it away from me. My parents knew I smoked but they never voiced their concerns, because that would make them hypocrites when they smoked too. I made sure to tell them when I’d go out to smoke with friends or hang out with Rue the ex-drug addict (when everyone knows she’s not clean she just denies it when we ask).

New years Eve and parties are something that definitely mix well with weed, other drugs, and alcohol. I already smoked a blunt of strawberry kush that smelled amazing with my champagne toast perfume from bath & body works. My dark red tight dress hugged my tits, and ass perfectly with my blood red stiletto nails. Rue texted me the address letting me know where she would be when I got there, which was with Fez (our lord and savior).

Walking through the crowded house consisted of one gigantic fuckwad named Nate Fucking Jacobs. Maddy’s (hopefully stays that way) ex-boyfriend who’s dad likes to fuck minors (Rue told me about Jules), that kid has many anger issues with bigger daddy issues than every kinky girl with daddy issues have. But what caught my eyes was that Cassie Howard was with him hopping out the truck making my eyes widen.

“Oh fuck, that’s fucked up. Maddy will fucking kill Cassie if she finds out.” I whisper to myself walking slightly quicker into the house before either one could make eye contact with me.

Pushing through people who I might’ve known and just didn’t give a single fuck to know their names, because there’s reason to care since they’re mindless zombies. I head to the living room seeing Fez and Rue talking making a smile appear on my face finally seeing faces that I recognize and care about.

“Hey guys, how’s it going? Excited for a new year of bullshit and school?” I asked while approaching them making their attention turn to me

“Y/N! What the fuck is up, girl? Need more weed from me? I got a new shipment today.” Fez asked making me smile and shake my head declining his offer since I was already stocked up.

Fez was a drug dealer but he was like a brother to me making sure I take care of myself as well as keeping me well stocked on weed since I pay him up front instead of Rue. usually when I need someone to smoke with since Rue hasn’t smoked a lot of weed, because she’d rather take stronger pills.

We talk about personal things like the future, or how our days went, or how we feel deep down. He’s someone I trust as well as Rue, since he’s someone that will listen and give an opinion even when he has a lot going on especially with his grandma and Ash.

“Y/N, you wanna go to the bathroom with me? I just don’t want something to happen while I’m sobering up.” Rue asked me while getting up with a squinty smile.

“Alright, I’m coming especially with Nate Jacobs being here who knows what will happen later.” I said making Fez glance around since he’s the one that snitched him out to the cops

Saying a quick see you later to Fez as he lit up a joint, Rue and I walked towards the hallway where the bathroom might be. Lexi passed us but not without asking if we knew where Cassie was, making us reply with a no. She sighed telling us to let her know if we see her as we walked further into the hall seeing Maddy knocking on a door which might be the bathroom.

“Hey Maddy, are you waiting on the bathroom too?” I asked her making her turn around with an irritated sigh making me giggle slightly while Rue turned around walking to another hallway to find somewhere to get high. I’ll just follow her after talking to Maddy.

“Yes, but Nate decided he wanted to take a fucking shit at a party! Can you believe that?” Maddy told me making my smile drop instantly remembering seeing Nate with Cassie when I arrived

“Huh, what a dick. Who takes a shit at a party? Hold that in until you get home.” I answered making her laugh while groaning knowing she has to pee causing me to laugh even more with this weed in my system

The door opened up with Nate Jacobs glaring down at Maddy and I as he pushed her out the way, probably heading towards the alcohol to drink. In my head I’m hoping Fez or Ash beat the shit out of him for ratting them out, especially when I had to wait a whole month without my supply since I wouldn’t buy from anyone else. Maddy walked into the bathroom after saying a bye to me as I turned away to find where Rue had gone.

Heading towards the hallway that she went to, my eyes then found a familiar blonde girl with Kat. Jules. She was back and that made me frown slightly knowing that Rue went to a dark place, especially when she almost OD’d in front of me. I walk faster down the hall opening some doors Rue nowhere to be found. I checked the last one and opened it to find a guy with bleached blonde tips in the laundry room sitting on the floor with 2 fingers on Rue’s pulse.

Fuck.

Author's Note: Hi guys! this is my first time actually writing something and really posting it, please I would love feedback as well

[shotorozu]

you like their hands

character(s) : shinsou hitoshi, kirishima eijirou, monoma neito (2/?)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns, quirk left unmentioned

post type : headcanons + small scenario [fluff, the mildest of spice] not even nsfw

note(s) : i was gonna put denki in this but i had a hard time thinking about what kinda hands he’d have, so i’m putting him in the next post

»»————-　♡　————-««

shinsou hitoshi

his hands are big, and his fingers are quite thick.

really likes wearing rings and bracelets, but he usually doesn’t wear them when he’s working (i’d say that bc wearing jewelry while doing physical activity HURTS)

regarding texture, his hands were initially soft— but due to transferring in the hero course, they roughened up over time

he’ll use hand cream if you want, but he doesn’t go the extra mile. and his nails are trimmed at all times. painting his nails a black color would be great once in a while.

lol i forgot to mention nails in the last post

he notices right away that you like his hands when he catches you staring at them when he’s cracking his knuckles

like.. people have said that his hands are nice, but he doesn’t really say much about them bc they’re not you

scenario

a crack sound is briefly heard in the rather silent room. the scrolling on your phone halts, and your eyes follow the sound of the crack.

ah, he’s cracking his knuckles. you think to yourself, and you’re left just simply admiring the way he applies pressure on a knuckle. who knew that his rather— large hand would look appealing, even while cracking his knuckles.

you snap out of your observation, but instead of just simply going back to whatever you were doing, you’re met with lilac eyes. “you were staring again.”

your cheeks heat up, and you opt to just turn your head to the opposite direction. “sorry,” you apologize. however— that’s not what hitoshi was looking for apparantly.

“if you like my hands alot,” he scoots next to you, hands sliding up and down your arms— his firm grip practically making the pre existing butterflies in your stomach act up again. “then you should’ve said so, kitty.”

is he conscious of his actions? hm. you could say that

he’ll purposely play with his capture tool right in front of you— the material wrapping around his hand. and he can only laugh when you immediately get absorbed into it

the back of his hand will brush against your cheek. then, when he comes in to kiss you, he’ll cup your cheek— kissing you with his other hand resting at your nape

under the table, his hand will start to slide against yours, interlocking hands with you. he’ll act like nothing is happening, but on the inside— he’s taking in your reaction

a little spicy, but when he wants you to look at him— he’ll do that thing where his thumb brushed against your bottom lip, as it almost dips right into your mouth

if he feels a little extra, his hand will also be tugging on your hair (if you’re fine with that. otherwise, he’s sticking to the one above)

oh and he also does that thing where he rests his hand on your neck, thick fingers squeezing your throat lightly.

overall— THIS MAN omg, he’ll entertain your interest in his hand nicely, just for you. and every single thing he does is memorable

kirishima eijirou

his hands are quite normal regarding size, they are almost always veiny, a lot more than bakugou’s actually. i think at some point he was concerned about them

his hands are rather flushed in color, but that’s because of his quirk. his fingers have a few tiny scars here and there,

he occasionally has pen marks on his wrists due to bad penmanship, and his nails.. don’t look the best, but they’re not the worst it’s bc of his quirk

the palms of his hands are ridden with callouses. but he wears them with pride because it’s the pure evidence of his hard work with his training.

but he starts to get worried about them when he goes to hold your hand.

you always had a thing for kirishima’s hands, but you just never had the chance to tell him that. i guess asking you did it for him

scenario

did you even realize how hard you were staring at his hands right now? it happened every single time he enlaced his arms around you, his hands resting at the sides of your arms

at first, he thought it might’ve been because his hands are too rough, or you might’ve been in discomfort— because maybe, just maybe, he accidentally activated his quirk?

the fact that he can’t exactly tell what it is worried him, maybe he should just ask you.

but his worry washed off when you told him upfront that you ‘liked his hands’

“wait so.. you’re staring at my hands because you like them?” kirishima wants to confirm your words, and— so casually, by the way— nod in agreement.

tracing the veins on his hands, you elaborate “your hands are really nice, i can tell how hard you must’ve worked.” pressing your smaller hand against his, you smile.

eijirou takes a moment to process it, but it’s surprisingly quick. “oh t-thanks!” he sheepishly took the compliment, a small blush sporting on his cheeks. “i’m glad it wasn’t because you thought they were weird.”

kirishima unintentionally feeds your interest with his hands. like sometimes.. he’s just not aware of it, but yes— he is feeding your interest well

will always make you compare hand sizes with him, chuckling softly at the dazed look on your face when your palms touch

if you allow him, he’ll fix your hair for you. doesn’t matter what hair type you have, he’ll do LOTS of research to know how to style it

those hands are magical

if you get a papercut, or a wound from cooking— he’ll patch you up, then he’ll press a kiss on the bandaid.

he’ll do this thing where he’ll squeeze your sides when you pull in for a hug. but if you’re not okay with that, he’ll opt to just rubbing your back with his hand— rocking you softly as he hugs you

a little spicy, but his hands do wander a lot. you might need to even hold them in place to make sure they don’t go too wild

in addition to that, he’ll just SLIGHTLY, activate his quirk to make sure you’re conscious of his touch. his finger tips gliding against your back, sending shivers down your spine.

but of course, he’s careful. he doesn’t activate it to the point it causes scratch marks, nor will his actions draw blood. he doesn’t wanna do that

in short— kirishima’s a little clueless at first. he wouldn’t really tease you in public, but he’s surprisingly attentive to your interest.

monoma neito

his hands are on the tipping edge of slightly above average. he doesn’t have a lot of veins on his hands, but they do pop out depending on what quirk he’s using

monoma’s hands are pretty spotless of any scars (from cuts, abrasions, etc.) because he gets REALLY annoyed with wounds pretty easily

to the point he’d want to attend to the wound immediately, he doesn’t let them sit— it’s just a personal preference

his nails are at the perfect length. not too long and not too short to the point it hurts, you don’t know how he does it.

wears watches on his wrists, and not the digital type— he sorta acts like he can read it easily, but it takes him a few seconds to even get to know the time

you know this because kendo snitched on him and told you LOL

you secretly hate yourself for this, but you really like his hands because of how he takes care of them. you’d never tell monoma even though you’re dating him

scenario

you’re unsure of yourself on how your boyfriend— monoma, found out about your fascination with his hands. it was supposed to be a secret for the rest of your life, and you only remember talking about it once out loud

which you assumed was a close call, considering that you thought he didn’t hear it at all— but he did.

“so i heard you like my hands, huh Y/N?” monoma’s teasing tone does not aid the situation. your cheeks heat up with embarassment, and you can’t get yourself to answer his question— without sounding like a fool anyway.

you fake annoyance, “where’d that come from?” you ask, and monoma doesn’t seem to want to switch the topic

“i’m asking you a question, dear Y/N— i heard you like my hands,” his tone would’ve sounded condescending to any other person, but you can tell that he’s either genuinely curious

or just teasing you, because that’s how he is.

to aid his question, he brushes his fingers along your neck— near your pulse. you jolt, stunned by the sudden action— heart beating rapidly against your chest.

“see,” monoma presses his hand against your chest, where your heart is palpitating, grinning in a way that’s teasing you “it’s true, isn’t it? sweet Y/N has a thing for my hands, hm?”

you furrow your eyebrows, and flick his forehead— and he hisses in reaction, “fine then, i do like your hands.” you finally give in, admitting final defeat.

ever since then, you haven’t heard the end of it

definitely that person that’ll just randomly bring it up to you, no matter what hour of the day it is.

“oh Y/N, you were totally fawning over my hands earlier—”

“i will castrate you.”

you know he means well most of the time, but sometimes he just loves teasing the heck out of you.

but that doesn’t mean he neglects your obvious interest in his hands.

he’ll compliment you, he’s a snarky person in general— but to you, he’s totally smooth with it.

slides his hand from your forearm to your hands, only to bring them up to his lips, pressing a kiss against your hand

squeezes your hand everytime he sees you, it’s kind of a nonverbal greeting at this point

similar to kirishima, he likes comparing hand sizes— teasing you about the size difference (even if it’s not even a big of a difference, he’ll take that chance.)

does this thing where he rubs his thumb against his palm. does it a lot when he’s concentrated about something, or just out of the blue

a little spicy, but he’ll make you tell him what you like about his hands, and what you like about the things he does with those hands of his. if that makes sense

he wants all of the details, doesn’t care if it’s mundane, or things he does when he’s feeling a certain way.

he wants to know, because as soon as you’re done with your spewl, he’ll do exactly what you like, teasing you while he’s at it. and so he can start incorporating those habits whenever he’s around you.

totally someone that’ll make you suck on those fingers. oh, but he’ll purposely get some dessert on them— asking you to suck them off

“good grief, i got some dessert on my fingers again. Y/N, come suck them off”

sometimes he’s serious, sometimes he’s just teasing.

overall— it’s pretty adventurous. he starts to act on it as soon as the revelation is revealed to him.

but i’d say he does just fine.

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei. i only own the writing, and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, translate, repost, or use my work for audio readings without my consent :))

[sirthisisa-wendys]

In Bloom: Alpha!Geto x Fem!Omega!Reader

synopsis: take a look at this ask

wc: 2.9k

tw: NSFW

masterlist

Omega.

The lowest of the low.

You look at your reflection and ask the universe why you aren’t at least a beta. But today you and the other omegas would be passed off to various available and willing leaders of the pack, chosen only by scent.

“It’s not so bad,” your best friend, Geto Suguru, chimes in at breakfast, assuaging your fears. He’s an Alpha, but you know he wouldn’t choose you. You two were too close to consider being part of a household together; you had been best friends since you were young, and that was the extent of it - well, that’s what you knew was true. It’s not what you wanted to be true. “Plus, sometimes you’re not picked for mating, and you meet your mate later. It’s just an easier way to distribute enough people to avoid overwhelming each house.”

“The sniffing test sounds worse than it actually is,” your sister, Marie, chuckles, nudging her beta husband, Yuta. “You’ll see what I mean later.”

And later came sooner than you thought, you realize, standing in a room with the four other omegas in the pack who haven’t been claimed yet and are of age. Nostrils are flaring, eyes are dancing around, and your head is clouded with the smells of the other betas and alphas in the room in front of you.

“No one here is pleasing to me,” Nanami crosses his hands over his chest, looking at the head of the pack with disdain. Gojo shrugs, looking over the four of you with passing interest.

“Anyone?” Toji Fushiguro steps forward, eyeing you all carefully before picking Mei Mei, a small little thing that would definitely be dominated by him inside and outside the bedroom.

“I’ll add Mei Mei to my group.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, thankful that you wouldn’t be the one Toji picked. It was every girl’s worst fear - well, until he satisfied you in bed, of course. Rumors of his prowess in bed were enough to make any omega tense up, and he was famous for not having a single complaint come from his household about polyamory. In fact, both of his mates - Gunnar and Elizabeth - were some of the kindest and heartwarming people you had ever met, despite being mated the weapons handler for the pack.

“I’ll take Haibara,” Yuki, another Alpha, announces. You look over at the man - who had been waiting patiently for this moment - as he joined the only person he loved in the camp. Yuki’s choice had not been unexpected at all. But now it’s down to you and Urahime, and you eye her with curiosity. Would Geto choose her? Or would Gojo take her? Urahime was an introvert, and not really suited for being the head of the pack, so obviously--

“Urahime,” Gojo holds his hand out, and she shuffles toward him, her hair hiding the blush creeping up her cheeks. You look over to Geto, who smiles and crosses his arms over his broad chest before nodding at you.

But wait--

“Come on, y/n.”

Wait, but wasn’t he-- didn’t he say--

Aren’t we just--

You’re still dumbfounded as he walks you to his - now your - home, which isn’t too far from yours. Geto didn’t have a mate, nor did he have anyone else in the house. That was why he spent so much time with you and your sister in your home.

“Just see this as the main house,” Geto announces as you climb the stairs behind him. “We can bounce between your old one and here if you’d like.”

“Wait,” you finally murmur, finding your voice. “Why did you choose me? Was it because I was last?” Geto turns around, raising a brow as his hand lingers on the doorknob to his bedroom.

“I would’ve picked you first if we hadn’t cast lots to see what order we would go in. I lost this time.” He swings open the door, and you see the room has completely changed from what it used to be. What used to be a bachelor’s pad with flannel sheets, LED lights, gaming consoles, and a massive TV on the wall has become a light-filled room with grey curtains, cotton sheets, a bookshelf, and two comfortable chairs by the unused fireplace instead of swivel chairs and a banner that covered up the brick enclosure.

“You redid the room…” you breathe as you walk past him, and he smiles a toothy grin, watching you take in the transformed space. “All of this for me?” You touch the comforter, and eye the row of candles beside a wooden desk - all things that weren’t there before.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Am I here just to take care of the home? I understand if that’s the case. I’d be happy to--”

“Let’s talk about it over lunch,” he murmurs, and you jog to the kitchen downstairs. Your sister is already there, apparently coming in through the side door that’s closer to your former residence. She’s just finishing up making pulled pork sandwiches, and you help her set them on the dining room table.

“Not so bad, huh?” she laughs at you, and you shrug.

“I mean, staying with Suguru and helping out until he meets his mate is enough for me,” you smile, placing a bag of chips onto the table. Your sister raises her brow but says nothing else while you work. When you finish setting the table, you all take your places and begin to eat, the silence deafening. You glance at Geto, hoping he will explain your duties while you stay here, but he just looks at Yuta, who glares back at him.

“Just spit it out, Suguru,” your sister gripes, and Geto sighs, placing his sandwich back on his plate.

“So, y/n. I know today you joined my household, and I want to tell you why.”

“Sure,” you shift in your seat, placing a chip in your mouth before Suguru announces,

“I want to be mated to you.” Saliva and chip pieces create a blockage in your throat, and you cough, eyes falling to your lap as your sister pats your back roughly.

“Me?” you finally croak, still choking a little. “Are you sure? We’re friends, Geto, not--”

“I would hope that would come with time. But I wanted to know if you would stay with me. You can say no and move back into the house with your sister; I won’t be hurt.”

“It’s not like you would be doing anything you’re uncomfortable with,” your sister adds. “All of this will be at your pace.”

You scoot your chair back, and whisper, “I need some time to think.”

_____________________________________________________________

Your time to think about everything lasted more than one night. It lasted almost a whole two weeks, you realize when you look up from your wooden desk. Geto had given you the room to yourself, choosing to huddle on the couch downstairs or retreat to his study when necessary.

You hadn’t really touched on the prospect of mating with him the entire time, not wanting to betray your feelings for him as a big brother, but the part of you that saw him as a handsome and caring man (and potential mate) wouldn’t go away. Actually, it just grew as you cohabitated with him and learned more about him.

But today would be especially difficult, you remember, rubbing your thighs together. You look over at the collections of pillows and one stolen hoodie from Suguru’s closet. You try your best to avoid being near him because you know what kind of overdrive your heat would throw him into. So you stayed in your room for most of the time, using the master bathroom, and only coming out to eat when you knew he left to run an errand. Your stomach growls angrily, and you clutch at it, hoping Suguru would go out for lunch and leave you so you could grab food and just be left alone to decide what you want to do if anything. You pick up your phone and frantically text your sister:

SOS, need food

Within a moment, your phone buzzes and Marie replies:

Can’t you ask Suguru?

You furiously type:

No! Last day of pre-heat.

Seconds later, a knock at your door startles you so bad that you almost leap out of your seat, and you call out, “Yes?” The door opens to your dismay, and Suguru peeks his head in, his wet hair and grey shirt appearing first. Should’ve locked the door.

“Marie told me to check on you, are you…” He examines the nest of blankets, pillows, and the stolen hoodie, and the confusion in his eyes vanishes. “Oh.” You try not to grimace, but he closes the door behind him, retreating down the stairs then reappearing with a carton of juice and a bag of trail mix.

“I keep these around, just in case,” he explains, then walks out of the room. “Lock your door,” he warns, then shuts it behind him with finality.

_____________________________________________________________

The knob jiggles in the middle of the night.

That’s when you know your heat has started.

“You okay in there, y/n?” Suguru murmurs, lips pressed to the crack of the door. You shift the large blanket off of you and wipe the sweat from your face.

“I’m fine,” you croak and rub your face slowly. “Just tired.”

“L-let me know if you need anything.” You hear him slump against the door and slide down, effectively blocking any and all exits. “Do you want to go home to your sister?” he calls out, and you groan.

“No.” You didn't want to inconvenience your sister and Yuta in this way, and she’d already snitched on you once in hopes that your heat would push you and Suguru together.

“Sure you don’t need anything?”

“N-no.” You whisper, and he falls silent, no doubt attempting to figure out how he can get on the other side of the door. No, you still had to decide. If you held out for long enough, you’d find out that his feelings were just figments of your imagination, and Geto couldn���t be interested in an Omega like you. He needed a Beta, a beautiful one that could match him in every way. You’re not that woman, and you could never be.

“Y/n…” You perk up at the way he whines your name, and inch closer to the door. “Let me in. Please.”

You hold a hand to the smooth wood, closing your eyes and letting it fall to your lap.

“You need a strong mate,” you answer, shaking your head. “I’m not the right one for you.” You stare at the doorknob with longing. You could open the door and let him in, but what would happen when he moved on to someone better? You’d be crushed, settling into the reality that you’re just a replaceable Omega.

“I don’t want anyone but you. No beta or other omega could be perfect for me. Not like you are, y/n.” When you don’t answer, Suguru murmurs, “Remember when we were in the park when you got your first heat?” You nod, even though he can’t see you. “I swore you knocked me flat on my ass right then and there. I knew I didn’t want anyone else from then on, but I had to fight Gojo once you ran off with your sister to go home.” He chuckles, as if this happened yesterday and not when you were seventeen, which was five years ago.

Your hand is reaching for the doorknob before you can stop it, and you unlock the door, anticipating Suguru to burst in and ravage you. But when he opens the door, he walks in slowly, taking stock of you on the floor and in an old t-shirt of his. He’s still in a grey shirt and joggers from before, his hair pulled back like always.

When he crouches down to face you, you’re shaking - whether it’s from fear or from excitement, you can’t tell. Either way, when Suguru places his hand on your cheek, you feel all of your nerves drift away. He taps a kiss to your nose, then tilts your head up to kiss you on the lips, holding you close by the neck. Once he’s done kissing your mouth, he trails below your chin, lips making a path to your collarbone.

“Get this off me,” you moan, and he flips his shirt off of you, tossing it into your nest before lifting you and taking you to the bed. He lays on top of you, spreading your legs wide while you jerk your hips up to meet his palm.

“I know you want to go fast,” he breathes, pressing another kiss to your mouth. “But let’s go slow. Take our time, hmm?” You whine, a fire building in the pit of your stomach while he smooths his fingers and lips over your skin. “I’ve waited for this for years.”

“Please take me now,” you plead, and Suguru shakes his head, diving past your underwear and sliding a finger into you easily.

“Patience, sweetheart.”

You don’t know how you got so turned on, but damn Suguru is going incredibly slow. You grunt in displeasure and your hands feverishly push down his joggers, letting his hard length spring free without hesitation. Suguru is taken aback at your show of aggression, but he follows it with his own, taking his teeth and raking them up your leg.

“Can’t hold back, huh,” he wonders, finally shucking his pants off. The dark-eyed Alpha removes your underwear and spreads your legs, pumping his cock a few times before nestling into your heat. You both give a loud groan of pleasure, which rocks you to your core as he sinks into you before pulling out, then thrusting back inside of you. You keen as he angles his hips so that your hips are meeting him easily without a single ounce of resistance.

“Please, Su,” you whisper, holding him close as he fucks you senseless. A haze settles in over you and you’re lost, wandering around aimlessly in your mind as he continues to pump into you. There’s no pain, no fear, no nothing. Just you and Suguru mating in your bed with abandon.

A stretching feeling fills you towards your entrance, and you pant, feeling even more full than before.

“S-Suguru…” you hiccup, but he hushes you, still pushing into you as his hand ghosts over your cheek.

“It’s okay… everything’s okay…” His fingers are shaking, but you don’t know why. Even so, something in you shifts, and you feel the burning fire roaring to life in your stomach. You grip him a little harder and cry out his name, which makes him lean forward, mouth open. At first, you think he’s going to kiss your neck, but when you feel his teeth graze a sensitive spot and then press down, you know what’s happening immediately. His scent explodes tenfold and you do the same, biting into his neck with equal pressure and feeling a trickle of blood run from the spot after a while.

The feelings that flood in are incredibly overwhelming, and you suddenly lose all sense of time, space, and knowledge. A loud exhalation is ripped from your throat, and Suguru echoes your sound a few moments later, spilling his seed deep inside of you.

A few minutes pass, and he’s recovered considerably, the mark on his neck still fresh with blood but not as red. His knot has only gone down a fraction, but you don’t mind. Your thoughts are like water and mist, just flowing past you easily, nothing sticking for too long.

“Talk to me,” Suguru whispers, but you can’t reply, your mind landing on one word, but then ghosting it away as soon as you go to speak it. All you can do is rest in his arms, nuzzling him close and closing your eyes.

BONUS:

As you rest with your back against Suguru’s chest, he’s making that sound while rubbing your swollen stomach. The sound is like a croon - bordering on a purr - and whenever he does it, it soothes you to the point of sleepiness. Your pup is tossing and turning despite Suguru’s soothing motions, and you wonder what your pup would be for a second before Yuki and Haibara appear in the backyard.

The sounds of greetings from the other pack members echo around the large space, and you watch them hand over a plate of uncooked steaks to Yuta, who is busy flipping the meat on the grill. Yuki approaches you, hands out to touch your bump as Haibara chats with Gojo and a two-year-old Yuji.

“I say it’s an Alpha by how much it keeps you up at night,” Yuki speculates, and you laugh, praying to God you wouldn't have a mini-Suguru running around the house any time soon. Gojo would very easily snatch him (or her) up and train them how to be “the strongest”, which wouldn’t bode well for your doors or kitchen cabinets.

“I’ve been telling her it’s an Alpha,” Geto chimes in, and you sigh, rolling your eyes.

“Are you going to also tell Yuki here what you said about the Fushiguro’s son?”

“What?” he asks innocently. “I only said Megumi would make a great Omega.”

“And Toji told you to eat shit.” Yuki leans back and cackles, holding her stomach.

“Sounds just like Toji.” You let the two alphas continue their conversation, tuning them out and watching Megumi run across the grass with Yuji and Nobara.

“You know, there’s only one thing worse than a curse user,” You hear Gojo mutter to Toji, and the green-eyed man nods.

“Yeah, a child.”

[i-cant-sing]

Ok ok so you know how reader was hospitalised? imagine once the reader came back home, she started becoming dizzy and randomly fainted every now and then, but she made the secret service SWEAR not to tell President Kai, would Kai find out ??

I love your work btw! Keep up the good work! 💗💗✨

Lolol i love yandere secret service! like imagine reader making her big buff secret service guys: Katsuki, Shotou, Izuku (maybe Aizawa?) swear that they wouldn't tell the President that you'd been feeling dizzy all day at the parade and then passed out as soon as you got in the car (not to mention that all of them started freaking out, thinking you'd been poisoned or something). It goes something like:

Y/n: You will not inform the President that I passed out today- Shotou, you better not be calling Hari or Kai!

Shotou, slowly hangs up: but ma'am-

Y/n: no! I am Mrs President-

Izuku: the correct term is "First Lady"-

Y/n, glares:

Izuku, nervously chuckles: right, sorry ma'am.

Y/n: look, I don't want him to hold another thing over my head. I don't want to listen to his stupid voice telling me how much of a bad job I did today, or how frail I am that I can't even stand in the sun for some time.

Bakugou, wiping your forehead with a cold rag: some time? You had been in the Sun for 8 hours straight! That too in those heels! I'm surprised you didn't get a heat stroke! Whenever we tried to give you an umbrella or a bottle of water, you would give them away to one of those brats!

Y/n, gasping: you mean the orphans????? What do you have against innocent, naive, helpless children?!

Bakugou, pushing the rag back to your face: one of them had a knife and she tried to stab me with it!

Y/n, throwing the rag back at him: Toga?! she's an orphan, Kats! She probably has a traumatic past or something.

Bakugou, pushing the rag back to your face: What past?! She's 3!!!

Y/n, glares: be honest. You provoked her, didn't you?

Bakugou recalling accidentally knocking down a kid with his leg: ...no.

Y/n, narrows her eyes at him: mmhmm, yeah right. Look, yall can't tell the President because if you do, then he'll blame you guys for not taking care of me, and that will lead to you guys getting replaced. So, do yall promise not to snitch to Kai?

They all look at each other before signing, nodding that they won't tell Kai as long as you promise to listen to them next time.

But of course, Kai finds out. He always does, and he has many people keeping an eye on you, and while these people may slowly become more attached and yandere for you, they still report back to Kai.

And when Kai finds out you fainted, he of course freaks out. Why did you faint? Are you sick? Why weren't the men he'd hired help you? Are you alright now? Why did you hide this from him?

So many questions, but he pushes them down for later. Right now, he calls the doctor to do s full medical check up on you, and give him a copy of all your reports. He definitely does restrict you from going out a lot, especially not without him, and definitely not without the Secret Service. Oh and he hires more men for you, all of them are to report to him of every single moment of your day.

Also, Kai may or may not make the doctor give you mild sedative so that he can come by later that night to check up on you- yknow, cause he has trouble expressing concer when you're conscious. He may even caress your cheeks, brush your hair and if he's feeling a little risky, he might join you in bed and cuddle you from behind.

He knows you work hard. A little too hard, sometimes to the point of exhaustion, all just for him.

You're too kind to him🥺

[natureismynature]

/rp

People need to realize that the Dream SMP characters are completely different from the content creators that play them. 

They’re literally actors that are playing characters who have (most of them) completely different set of morals, values, experiences, and mindsets. The characters don’t know every single thing the content creator does. So when a content creator says they don’t know and shouldn’t know a particular detail in the lore, then stop fucking spamming it in their chat. (Stop snitching every time you get the chance. Kinda cringe.) (Except when the content creator asks for info then you’re good)

I know that we want Tommy out of that prison as fast as possible, but don’t spam content creators’ chats about it. When you know their character knows nothing of the current happenings and if their character will obviously do nothing for Tommy because their character doesn’t care for Tommy’s character, like Eret and or Jack, then stop acting like they do. 

When Eret says their character don’t canonically know where c!Tommy is even though their IRL self does, then stop telling- demanding- them to save Tommy. 

When c!Jack says he hates c!Tommy and he wants him dead and he deserves to be in prison, that doesn’t mean his IRL self agrees with his character’s morals, he has explicitly pointed this out. Stop hating him for it. 

When Phil says his character is clueless about most of the things that are happening in the smp, then stop spamming him to save Tommy because his character doesn’t even know c!Tommy’s in jail. 

TLDR: The characters of Dream SMP doesn’t always know what the content creators knows so stop spamming/accusing them of things their characters don’t even know about. 

TTLDR: Stop snitching, it’s cringe.

[strawb3rryw00]

Late Night ♡ woo wonjae x female reader

warnings -> swearing

synopsis -> y/n works hard in her studio day and night and begins to worry her boyfriend who works right next door.

fluff and some suggestive shit.

also there’s a little bit of jay park x reader in here too

~♡~

4:25 am.

You let out a long sigh, slamming your computer shut after listening to your track. You had recently joined AOMG as their youngest member. You were a prodigy, having only been rapping for a year when Jay saw you performing at a small show just two years ago. No one in the company had a doubt in your skill, all of them praising you highly on the single you released after joining.

But you were a perfectionist. And you were determined to prove to everyone that your talent was undeniable. You were labeled as the hidden ace of AOMG by a magazine company after a special performance at one of Simon D’s concerts.

Your lyrical abilities and flow were unmatched by most artists in the game. You had a unique musical and physical style which caused you to have a large fan base, doubling in size when AOMG confirmed your relationship with Woo Wonjae, another artist under the label.

You were featured on his album, his fans becoming yours after hearing your talent paired with his.

But that only made you put more pressure on yourself.

You’ve locked yourself in your studio for days on end. Wanting to get your first full length album utterly perfect for your fans, the company, and yourself. You’ve gone days without sleeping or eating, earning the worry of your label mates.

Just three hours ago Jay was in your space lecturing you. He made sure to take care of every artist under him, checking up on them despite his busy schedule. While having two companies and multiple rappers and vocalists under his labels, you were the one he was always most worried about.

“Y/N man,” He spoke to you casually in english. “I love your drive and effort, but you need to go home sometime tonight.”

You frowned, pausing your song you had played. “But Jay,” You rolled up your sleeves and exposed your tattooed arms. “I’m just trying-“

“I know what you’re trying to do.” Jay cut you off, his tone a little harsh. He hated talking to you like that, but it’s what you needed. “Your friends? They snitch on you. Especially your little boy next door,” He referred to Wonjae, who was probably working away in his studio as well.

Since your boyfriend was also an artist, he understood your mindset and left you alone due to your request. Of course you guys still talked and spent time together, yet it was minimal during this time.

“I should not have to hear that you’re in here day and night. I gave you the full fucking luxury studio as a gift, thinking you’d take care of yourself. But youre basically living here. The shower is for occasional late nights y/n,” Jay furrowed his eyebrows at you, standing up and sighing. “I’ll force you to move to a smaller one, don’t think I wont.”

Jay opened his arms for you to stand up and hug him, which you did. He held you tightly, resting his head on yours and sighing again. “You stress me out. I better hear that you’ve gone home by tomorrow afternoon.” He says sternly, pulling away and looking at you.

“And you better fucking eat babe,” He always spoke to you in a friendly manner but it was never flirty. He genuinely cared for you and the other artists. And it was normal for you both to use babe in a casual manner. Despite his lecturing and the wide age gap, you both were very good friends.

“I will,” You smiled at him, pulling your phone out to find something to order.

He exits your studio and you sigh, sitting down on the couch you added. Your studio felt more like home than your apartment. You decorated it as such, even adding a cat tower for when you have your feline roomie with you, which is usually always because you don’t like leaving the ginger cat alone all the time.

After he left you went back to working diligently. You had finished three songs in the five months you’ve been working on the album. You didn’t have an actual deadline but you knew your fans were waiting. You had several features you wanted on this album as well. Hoody has been waiting for you to finish your part of this song so she can add her magical vocals to it. But you hadn’t quite found what you were missing from it.

Your phone lit up, a message from Jay on it. ‘I have your location ma’am’ The message read, earning a laugh from you.

‘lol’ you respond, setting your phone back down. You look at your lock screen and smile. It’s a picture of you and Woo that a fan took of you both performing on stage together. It was the first time you performed with him after it being confirmed you both were dating. In the picture you’re rapping to the crowd, squatted down a little and Wonjae is looking at you with the happiest look plastered on his face.

At the thought of your lover you decide it’s time to take a break. You get up and stretch, hearing your back pop, slipping back on your slides. You tend to stay in your socks while working, it’s more comfortable to you.

You walk out the studio and next door, smiling as you read your boyfriends name on the door. You walk in without knocking, knowing he never minds.

He’s in the booth, rapping his verse to Kunst, who looks at you with tired eyes. You stand behind his chair, resting your hands on his shoulders and giving them a slight squeeze while listening to your boyfriend.

You could listen to him rap all day. His deep voice was so beautiful in your ears. “Are you about to leave?” Kunst asks you. “Jay told us to make sure you leave.”

You shake your head. “Not yet.” You say, earning a sigh from the taller male.

Wonjae exits the booth, his eyes lighting up when he sees you. “Ahh finally taking a break mm?” His arms wrap around your shoulders and pull you close. You inhale his scent, closing your eyes in comfort. He doesn’t let you go, and holds you while talking to his friend.

“Imma head out, you did good.” Kunst gets his things together and pats you on the head before wishing you both farewell and leaving.

Wonjae kisses the top of your head and yawns. “Let’s eat baby,” He says softly. You nod and slide your hands under his shirt and run your fingers along his back, his favorite thing.

“I missed you,” You say into his chest, still with your eyes closed. He chuckles, his hand resting on the back of your neck while his fingers play with the few pieces of hair that fall from your bun.

“I missed you too, you been busy huh?” He pulls away slightly to look down at you. You meet his eyes and give him a tired smile which he returns.

“Yea you could say that.” He laughs at your answer which is music to your ears.

Now having been in his arms you don’t want to return to your studio for the day. You really did miss him but work is very important to you.

Wonjae sits down in the chair his friend was occupying previously and pulls you into his lap. Your legs hang over one arm while your back rests against the other. You lean into him, his arms sliding around you once more and pulling you closer. You tuck your head into his neck and relax to the sound of his deep breaths.

“It’s almost 6 am,” Wonjae hums, his fingers tracing the outlines of the tattoos on your exposed arm. “I’m tired.” He sighs. You know he’s hinting that you guys should leave, especially after Jay having said something.

“Me too,” You admit, placing a gentle kiss on his jaw and yawning. “Let’s go.” You add, reluctantly leaving his lap.

He stares at you a little shocked. “You’re finally listening huh? I’m impressed.” He stands up as well, laughing when you hit his arm.

“Go get your things jagi,” He waves you off.

After getting your things and your kitty, you lock up your studio and meet by his while he locks up as well. He smiles at you, sliding his bag on his shoulders and wrapping his arm around your shoulders while you both make your way to the parking garage.

“Let’s go get some early food and then go to my place yea?” Wonjae offers, guiding you to his car. “Ron can come with us and play with my babies,” He refers to your cat that you named after the ginger wizard.

You nod, getting in the passenger seat in his car and setting Ron on your lap. You inhale the comforting smell of his car, not having been in his car nor outside for a week now.

Wonjae drives down the empty road to a restaurant near his apartment that’s open early on weekdays. His hand rests just above your knee, his index finger reaching out to pet the cat on your lap. “No work talk today.” He says, looking at you as he parks. “You’re taking a break.” You smile, loving how he already knows how you are.

After you fill your stomachs, you’re on the way to his home. Even more tired now that you’ve ate. Once parked, he grabs his bag as well as yours and leads you into the building and up to his apartment. Unlocking the door, he rests his hand on your back to usher you in where you set Ron down while slipping your feet out of your shoes.

Ron immediately mingles with Wonjae’s three cats who make their way over to the two of you, the four of them following you to Wonjae’s room.

“Do you want to shower with me?” Wonjae asks softly, cupping your cheek into his hand and rubbing the pad of his thumb along the bone. You lean into his touch, kissing his palm. “Yes please.”

“Okay, I’ll go start it.” He rushes to the bathroom and you hear the water being started. You undress yourself, throwing the clothes in the basket he has in the corner of his room. Once you’re completely stripped you push open the bathroom door where you see Wonjae beginning to take off his clothes as well.

After sliding off his shirt he looks at you and smirks. “Mmm,” He hums, pulling you closer to him by your hips. “I missed looking at this.” He leans down and places a kiss on your neck, licking a stripe to your ear and flicking your lobe with the tip of his tongue. It sends a shiver down your spine, your eyes closing in bliss.

He knows your body like the back of his hand, he cherishes every piece of you. He looks at you, smiling. “I’ll fuck you later,” He kisses your lips, lingering for a moment before pulling away.

He finishes undressing and you both get into the shower. He hugs you under the warm water much like he did while you were in his studio but this time it’s much more intimate due to the skin to skin contact. Your breasts press against him, head tucked into his neck. The warm water cascades down your body, causing you to grow tired.

After you both wash up, you find yourself clad in his hoodie and sweats that are just a little big. Wonjae waits for you on the bed, the four cats finding their way to join him. He lays on his back, scrolling through his phone.

You crawl into the bed, snuggling into his side with your head resting on his shoulder. He immediately puts his phone down and rolls over on his side to wrap his arms around you too pull you closer. You feel him breathing in your scent, his legs pushing to get in between yours.

“Jay isn’t letting you back into the studio until tomorrow and I’m forcing you to lay with me all day .” Wonjae mumbles.

You laugh a little, feeling grateful to have such caring people in your life. “Your album can wait for a day. I’ve missed you.” He adds, pulling you even closer to him.

You both fall silent, your eyes closing. You’ve never felt more content and comfortable than how you do now. You feel one of the cats snuggle into your back and purr against you.

“Wonjae,” You began, earning a hum from the half asleep man. “I love you,”

His hand slides under your shirt and gently scratches your back. “I love you.” He says, resting his hand on the small of your back.

You find yourself slowly falling asleep. You know you’re going to be asleep for the whole day and you’re honestly looking forward to it. Especially with Wonjae and the cats.

He’s right, your album can wait.

~♡~

lol i had to write another for wonjae. it’s so hard for me to find fics for him so i jus been writing my own.

[bluecookies02]

Dabi x Reader- I Run To You /nsfw/

warnings: praise/degradation, sex oriented quirk?(meaning succubus-ish!Reader), choking, overstimulation, squirting, pinning/slightly obsessed reader.

The reader becomes a villain-->brief mentions of blood, mentions of Touya's "death".

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Maybe you're supposed to feel some sort of remorse when you see your childhood friend on the screen, blue flames hugging every corner of the building he's in, the poor glass shattering and melting as the reporters hurriedly fly around to catch every evidence and information they can.

You couldn't see much of his face, but the way he carried himself and the exact patterns of his scarred arm were enough for her. You only needed one glance.

It took a few months for you to wrap your head around it. Trying to push down the anger and grief by finding excuses for whatever he's doing. You became obsessed though, super fixated on every last trail of him you can find.

Years went by fast. Gaining the trust of other villains was fairly easy when you share the same hatred for the heroes. It brings you a sense of belonging and they listen. They listen and feel your anger, understand loss better than anyone else you tried to talk to before. You don't receive stupid condolences and bullshit like "it gets better" or "that's what faith had in store for you". You get raw emotion, telling you exactly what you yearned to hear, finally knowing that you're not crazy and that there are people who have enough braincells to see through the terrible facades the society has been smearing over everybody's eyes.

It's hard at first, watching blood and flesh rip through the air you breathe as your shoes leave red trails that follow your step...until they don't...they get mixed and lost and the footprints you once knew were yours look foreign, you don't know where you came from, you just know where you're headed.

You come back to your small apartment almost every night, writing down and scribbling each piece of information before it has the chance to be forgotten, intent on not letting a single detail slip.

You find it bizarre. You wanted to be a hero. For as long as your memory goes, you admired and glorified the kind and selfless faces you saw on TV, and in your own house.

He wanted to be a hero too? Even more than you. You're close, just a handful of months and you'd earn yourself a place. You know it.

Would he remember you?

Your pen breaks under the pressure of your palm, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You stack the notebooks neatly, locking your door before plopping on your pillow.

All of this for a boy...how silly of you...Would he be happy to have someone familiar next to him?

You feel lonely...You miss the comfort of the past and you wonder if he does too. Did he even like you back then? You dig for every memory of him smiling at you, gracing your hand while the two of you played the games on his computer.

Then your eyes wander to the pictures on your wall, collages of newspapers with his face on it. He aged like fine wine. Strong and handsome. His hands are something you can't look away from, his long fingers keeping you in a trance while you snuggle under your blanket, slipping your hand in your shorts. Just this time.

You bend your legs at your knees, head craned to look at the pictures on your walls, mouth loosely open. You take your time working your clit, imagining how he would do it. How he would take his time exploring you after not seeing you for so long.

Your ass bucks off the bed a little, humping against your fingers, almost dipping into your greedy pussy, ghosting over the slicked up hole and spreading the nice coat of the slimy wetness across your folds.

Would he be good at eating you out? Stretching his scarred jaw to fit his mouth over your cunt and lap at it, sticking his tongue out as far as it can go.

You stretch your shorts to fit your hand in, pressing two fingers on each side of the sensitive nub, using your other hand to flick at the exposed pearl. It almost burns from the pressure, too sensitive when it's not hidden under the thin layer.

What if he had his tongue pierced? Imagining the metal on you, swirling over every inch, digging into you as it bumps your clit. You can't make yourself wait anymore, pulling your shorts down and pressing your knees to your tummy. Like he's there in the room, giving him a perfect view of your dripping hole, untouched and clenching around nothing as you trail your finger across it.

You slip two of them in, too horny to drag it out anymore, you start pumping them in and out of your pussy, convulsing and shivering each time you hit that spot while you arch off the bed. Your other hand works your clit, chasing the trashing of your hips while your drenched cunt pools around your fingers, the sound making you high. It's wet and erotic, your palm slamming against your other hand, the rhythm on your clit rushed and messy, interrupting the pace you need.

You imagine his skilled fingers on you again, precisely circling your swollen nub as he stuffs you with his cock, his hot breath on your neck while his dyed hair tickles your face, wet kisses adoring your skin as he's about to stuff you full of his cum, press your legs to your stomach until they feel like they're gonna break. He'd try to go deeper than possible, holding your neck so that he can kiss you properly as your bodies rock the bed.

He'd cum first, seconds before you just to make sure that you milk every last drop as you cum and pulse around his shaft, your pussy gripping and sucking him in while he still balls deep inside you, groaning into your mouth.

The sensation of him shaking against you sends you over the edge, your breath being knocked out of you as your thighs flex and clench together, squeezing your hands and trapping them in place.

You're gasping for breath, eyes closing and ears buzzing from your high, light thrust against your clit coming to a stop as you slowly calm down.

Bliss washes over you as you lay there for a bit, chest rising and falling, your body completely relaxed.

You hope it'll all turn out to be worth it and joining the League would just be another step from many to go. Yet you still hope that your feelings were mutual back then. You experience loss too early in your teen years and a lot has changed since. But one thing was constant, you never stop loving someone even after they're gone, and Touya is the biggest proof of that.

You still had his books, pens, shirts and all of the notes the two of you passed around during dinners or classes...and you held onto them long before you found out he was still somewhere out there.

He was stoic and cold most of the time, his affections looked calculated, keeping you on the line throughout the whole friendship, not letting the two of you slip into a relationship. Pausing his flirting as soon as you seemed to get your hopes up.

If not a relationship, you want closure, and you want him, in any form you can have him.

_______________

Slowly you wake up to a pattern of knocks on your bedside table, not having the time to panic or get scared as you're slipping away from your dreams.

When you finally do see a tall white-haired man next to your bed, you raise your hands up in defense, heart skipping beats and toes curling as you back away to the headboard.

"Quiet a stalker aren't you?" Red eyes pierce through you, your quirk activating for a split second until he grabs a hold of your ankle with four fingers.

"You know what the fifth one does...so behave nicely, I'm not here to kill you" You look around the room, avoiding the uncomfortable gaze of the leader.

The shame of your interior upsetting you more than the initial fear of getting murdered.

"How did you get in?" Your locks are too good to be broken down, your alarm system expensive(but stolen) and working perfectly.

A purple portal flashes in the middle of the room. Well not so perfectly, you figure.

"I won't snitch on your obsession cause I couldn't care less, I want you in the League. Pack your shit or run." Your eyes are wide open, watching as the man slips into a portal and disappears, the purple mist still glowing in front of you.

You hurriedly grab a small suitcase, stuffing everything you know is important, already having some luggage packed in case you had to move fast for whatever reason. It comes in handy being organized.

You hide the newspapers you took off your walls, slipping them between your clothes and zipping the suitcase. First impression matters, so you risk wasting a bit of time to pick out an outfit, making yourself look presentable before you slip into a mellow cloud, dragging your stuff with you.

Your heart is pounding, blood rushing to the tips of your ears and the pads of your fingers, pulsing and warming you up.

The leader greets you again, grinning as he leads you to a room, telling you to make yourself at home.

"I wanted to give you a roommate, but that would be distracting" he teases, his teeth still showing as he closes the door behind you. The room is warm and surprisingly not messy at all. Yes, some things are carelessly tossed on the bed or draped over the chair but everything else is neat. You figure out fairly quickly that it was probably occasionally used.

You take your time to explore the room, piling up the stuff that wasn't yours in one corner of it. You unpack one of your suitcases and half of the other, cursing yourself for bringing the evidence of your little plan.

You don't know why you brought it, it seemed useless after you found out where you're going, but you guess it's for sentimental reasons. You didn't plan for it to happen so fast. But they were indeed a bit low on numbers after recent attacks so they must've gotten impatient and started seeking out more people.

You did do everything in your power to get noticed so you do want to take some credit. You smoothen out the sheets before you sit on the bed, thighs rubbing together from nervousness.

Is he on a mission?

How can you play it cool?

What's his favorite food now?

What are his interests?

Does anything make him particularly happy...maybe a hobby?

Should you try using your quirk to lure him in?

Does he know you exist?

Will he recognize you?

Would he remember you even after you tell him?

Maybe you shouldn't tell him.

You stop before you get too deep in your thoughts, deciding that you should make yourself comfortable. It's very likely that he's not there anyways, and he might not even show up soon, sitting there all alone is just making you more anxious.

You decide to leave the room, curious to meet other members that you heard in the hallways a few minutes ago. They were all headed to the same place, so you decided to go to what you figured was the living room.

The smell of alcohol got stronger, and the small giggles and banter got louder. You fixed your clothes one last time before opening the door, seeing the all too familiar faces in the room.

A blonde-haired girl ran to you, almost tumbling them both to the floor as she giggled excitedly.

"I was dying for more girls in this dump, they all stink" she whined, sniffing your shirt. She was grabbed by the collar by the boss, his pinkie up as the girl huffed.

_________________

So that's exactly how you met everyone, sitting on the bar as you silently wished the last member showed any desire in greeting you. He was sprawled out on the sofa in the far end of the room, a beer in hand and a cigarette in his mouth. You've never seen someone so unapproachable before, and it had to be him of all people.

Yet you didn't take it to heart. He was always like this...well minus the alcohol. New people didn't phase him, even more, he hated new. You're not worthy of his time until he deems you as so and you figure he never met "you" before.

But you do glance at him. The whole fucking night, chatting with others but always slipping and almost getting caught. They pointed it out but you just brushed it off as being curious to why he doesn't look like he's enjoying himself.

Even tho, you can practically feel his gaze on your back each time you turn away, feeling flustered you sip on your drink through the night, blushing when you catch him averting his gaze.

He is intrigued, to say the least. The way you move and talk is intoxicating, your voice feeling like something he had forgotten a long time ago. It reminds him of his past and it makes him fairly angry...but it brings some form of comfort he didn't feel in a while. He'll be selfish enough to indulge himself.

And he does. Months. Seeping into years.

________________

Missions are exhausting, so far you've been on more than you could bring yourself to count. On the run for weeks with little to no rest wasn't the luxurious lifestyle younger you dreamed about.

The comfort of the not so soft bed never felt more heavenly than now. A cheap motel wasn't your form of rest either, but you had to deal, hopping in for a not so relaxing shower with water that jumped from freezing to burning hot every second, tho it did an amazing job on easing the coil in your stomach.

Your quirk is taking a toll on you, control over it fading away as soon as you are laying clean and fresh on the bed. Too much...You were working too much and just teasing the victims never seemed to satiate your quirks' hunger. You second guess your path a lot, especially when you end up alone and exhausted, but you never think about quitting...as weird as that feels. It has its perks you guess...

Him being your partner wasn't one of them. He's practically eating you up, showing off in front of you but ignoring you all the same. You feel like crying from frustration, huffing to yourself before digging into your backpack and grabbing your small toy. It's been a few weeks since you could indulge yourself, the tension of your muscles painful.

Tears are almost freely rolling down your cheeks, your quirk making you feel dizzy as you slip the toy against your clit.

His voice is rough and quiet in your head, the conversations you had playing on repeat, searching for anything that you might've missed.

Every time you thought of one, it was followed by a memory of him pushing you away, smirking before going to do his own thing. He always had a smart mouth, flirting with you but making sure to step right off when he feels like he's dancing on that line.

You bit back equally though, returning the snarky comments and putting up a tough facade all while you tried to cling onto every thread of hope he threw your way.

He was almost sure he heard you though, his real name followed by a muffled cough as you tried your hardest to drown it with small talk. A moment of pure joy after you both made it out alive and safe made you let your guard down.

And when he called off the rest of the mission for the day out of nowhere, you were almost sure too.

But he isn't here now. He didn't follow you, and you're certainly all alone in this empty room. He'll come around...or he'll leave in the middle of the night. You wouldn't be able to blame him for either.

He's in the room right next to you, his fist wrapped tightly around his cock and his eyes squinted shut. He knows exactly who you remind him of, knows exactly what he felt as soon as you joined. You were always similar to her.

Awfully similar.

He knows.

It doesn't feel fair. Not to you or him. But he can't think. He can't focus and he can't stop himself from moaning out your name as his cock slicks up with pre-cum, his other going to his balls and squeezing them lightly.

He feels drunk, even though he didn't drink...well more than the usual amount... his body is burning like it's on fire...which isn't a foreign feeling to him. But it's different, the blood in his veins is warm, surging to the tips of his hands and toes as he fucks into his own fist. He's almost in a haze, fighting the urge to get up and slam your door open. If he runs away now, you'll be safer, maybe quit the League if he's lucky.

But he can't win, messily pulling his pants up and slipping on his shoes, grabbing your door handle in less than a blink as he tries to go back one last time. He has a primal need that pulls him towards you, even when he's not in the same room, it urges him to reach out and chase you, grip on the last straw of sanity and happiness that happens to be you.

Your toy buzzes faintly, sweat gracing your body while you so desperately try to cum. You're too sad and it doesn't help in reaching your high at all, but if you don't do it you feel like you might explode. He knows and he doesn't want you. You wasted your life away. You deserve it for being a creep.

He opens the door cautiously, feeling his cock pulse against the loose buckle. The lamp highlights your tear-stained cheeks and it's criminally hot, illegal even, making his toes curl.

You notice him immediately, dropping the toy on the mattress and using the sheet to cover as best as you can.

"I can't believe you" he whispers.

"Please..." you whine, drinking in the sight of him, wiping the tears with the back of your hand. To leave or to stay...any of the two.You know desire when you see it, praying that he came to quench it.

You're so desperate, craving him, letting go of your quirk and sending hormones to clash and bite against his skin.

You'll lie if you have to, say how you couldn't control it for a second more.

Nothing matters now when he's crawling up your naked body like a starved man, ripping the sheets away, digging his nails into your sides as he ravages your skin like it's the sweetest thing he's ever tasted.

And it probably is, the soft nibbles turning rough and hungry as you struggle to hold one, tangling your hands in his hair. You try to pull on it, yearning to kiss him and pour everything you feel against his lips, even if you're just a fuck, you need him to know that you never forgot him.

He doesn't budge, instead, he makes quick work of his pants, pulling you to the edge of the bed.

The room is too warm for you, the air too thick to breathe. You don't know if you want to stop and talk first....maybe you'll have the chance later?

"This is your fault" he huffs, slipping one hand to his boxers to ease the tension, gripping his cock tightly. He'll have to rush it, groaning when your legs subconsciously twitch and spread to let him fit in between.

"I feel like a fucking teenager" he argues, cupping your pussy and hunching over you.

He's missing a few steps, but seeing you so desperate and aching to cum urges him to help you out first.

"Since when did you start luring me in with your stupid quirk huh? Part of your little plan?" he questions, not letting you answer.

You're shaking your head, trying to mumble how you never tricked him into wanting you, not until this exact moment. But words are not your friend right now.

His eyes pierce through yours, beautiful blue swallowed up by the black of his pupils, half-lidded stare stripping you naked. Bare and vulnerable as your back arches, ghosting his fingers over the right spots and making you moan out a soft "Dabi".

It doesn't sound right on your tongue, and he sees the way it rolls off your lips, strained and dishonest.

His large hand wraps around your throat, holding you in place as he works the small bud, lowering his lips dangerously close, whispering across yours.

"Don't close your eyes." he demands.

It's in his arms reach, and everything is so close to making sense. If you look at him, he might start feeling like himself again. One of his fingers slowly dips inside your warmth, dragging the pad of it gently while he presses his thumb against your clit.

Your soft lips fit on his, your hands pulling him in by the back of his neck. He wants to make it slow and romantic, a nice reunion, yet he lets you slip your tongue in his mouth, deepening the kiss.

He's not holding himself up anymore, his body's weight shifting onto you with each thrust of his finger, the clacking sound of your pussy urging him to move even faster, make you feel even better. He adds in another one, watching you mewl and relax.

"That's fucking right, you wanted it, you fucking planned this, you sick fuck" he muses, catching you off guard. There's something bittersweet in the fact that he'll never be able to leave every little aspect of his life behind.

Before you even try to mumble something out, his lips are slamming against yours, teeth clashing and pulling on your soft skin.

You clench around him, riding his fingers greedily and roaming your hands across his back, fisting and gripping at his shirt.

You can feel the blood on your tongue, hissing when he pulls out only to slap his palm over your clit, causing you to yelp and pull away from the kiss.

"Touya, listen-" He shakes his head, nails digging into the flesh of your ass.

"You little stalker...how much work did you do for this cock huh?" he presses against you for good measure, making you feel his hot length on your cunt.

"You have no fucking idea" you snarl, gaining some of the confidence back, wiggling from beneath him.

He kicks his shoes and boxers all the way off, getting on your bed and pulling you to him.

His shirt is thrown messily to the edge of the bed, his hands pressing on the small of your back so that you can tower over him, trapping him between your thighs as he leans against the headboard.

Your ass slides over his cock, your hips moving slowly while he trails your figure, gliding his warm fingers across your thighs and up to your breasts.

Both of his hands cup the soft mounds, eyes glued to yours as he sticks his tongue out of his mouth. Hypersensitive to every little touch, your body shivers as he takes gentle, almost there swipes across your nipple, moving his arms back to your sides while he slips the sensitive bud in his mouth.

He lowers his thumb to your clit, flicking it slowly while he nips at your tits, biting and sucking marks across the smooth skin. His cock hooks and prods at your hole each time you both sway against each other, teasing you until the knot in your belly becomes too tight, skin crawling with pleasure wherever his body meets yours. He can hear your breath hitching in your throat, grinning while he speeds up the work on your clit, patiently waiting for you to start arching into his hand. He's gonna make you feel so good...convince you that chasing after him was the best decision you made in your life. Make up for all the years you had to deal with everything on your own.

He can feel your pussy clenching around the tip of his cock, making him push up in one slow and deep motion, immediately feeling the spasms of your soft walls gripping tight around his length. You let out a shaky breath, riding out the first high that finally satiates your quirk if only for a bit, making you drop your weight on him.

"There we go...Feeling better?" the ground might swallow you up, but when his hips start to lazily buck into you, you get distracted...You didn't notice how full you are, every inch pushing and stretching perfectly. You realize his finger never really stopped, only slowed down while he built up the agonizing pace he's bouncing you on.

You know your quirk makes you needy, but it makes everyone even more so, the realization that he probably feels like 9 circles of hell causing your hips to move, meeting his thrusts more roughly.

His head moves back to the headboard, eyes glued to yours as you ride him, propping yourself on his shoulders.

He ignored the burn of his body, too intoxicated and keen on making you feel better to focus on his aching cock, getting drowned in pleasure now that he can experience everything clearly.

You're beautiful.... and he wants to break you, make you blabber his name as you cling to him like he's the only one that can make you feel good. And he's gonna make sure he is. He admires you for a moment, cheeks heating up while watches your tits bounce, your eyes averting under his stare.

Your world turns upside down, your head sinking into a soft pillow as your legs are pushed as far as they can go.

You're scared to look away now, his gaze never breaking when he starts plowing in and out of your cunt, slamming his cock all the way in with each thrust.

His feet dig into your mattress, making the cheap bed creak.

You don't know where to put your hands, switching from the sheets to your thighs.

"Dumb little whore...is this all it takes?" he moves lower to you, pressing your spit coated lips against his.

You manage to hook your arms around his neck, swinging your legs behind his back.

He's plowing too deep, his navel bumping against your clit. He can't make himself pull out at all anymore, stuck on humping inside your pussy, slamming and angling his cock until you cry out.

Panting and groaning against your lips, he manages to slip a few curses, hissing when he tries to stop himself from cumming. Your quirk is cruel.

His fingers tangle in your hair, holding you still as he bottoms out completely, feeling his cock throb and spill, your walls tightening up against his shaft as hot cum paints them white.

He's high and addicted, already fucking his cum deeper, making sure it goes into every little crease and pore it can reach. You slip your fingers to your clit, trying to get yourself off while he rocks both of you.

"You wanna cum? Wanna milk my cock again huh? Want me to knock you up?" He's stammering it out, words spilling from his mouth in a rush, feeling the burning of his sensitive head as he picks up the pace again, slapping your hands away.

He raises just a bit, pressing one of his large palms on your belly.

His other hand slips to your clit instead, circling and flicking it to make you reach your high before he fills you up again.

Your whining does nothing to slow him down, his motions too rough and almost painful, your cervix bruising up when he presses even harder on your tummy, making your hips buck off the bed.

"Want you to cum...want you to make a mess..." he urges, a low rumble in his throat.

You can only nod, grabbing both of your thighs and spreading them further for him, your pussy open and on display to him to watch as it hugs his cock, slick and dripping.

You have to close your eyes, too embarrassed as you feel the burning sensation surge through you, eyes watering from the pressure as you finally let go. Your whole body tenses up, a low scream slipping out of your mouth when clear liquid splashes over your thighs and stomach, leaking onto his cock.

"Fucking hell" is all you can hear before he stuffs you full again, this time dropping onto your chest as his knees and feet numb out, hot breath tickling your neck as he moans against your skin.

Your weak hands slump on his back, muscles relaxed and barely working.

Someone is supposed to say something...minutes passing by quickly.

Your tired voice fills the room, a soft "Touya..." reaching his ears as you trail off. You're not sure what you wanted to say, but he holds you a little tighter, heart beating faster at the sound of his name.

He kisses your cheek softly, snuggling into the crook of your neck. "Fucking creep".