#Or is it just savings put away carefully for months and months and people just make it seem quick and easy

[bruciemilf]

Still very haunted by the idea of a young! Justice League AU.

They come across each other with an intentional, common goal. It feels like coincidence, but it also doesn’t. It’s destiny at work.

When Clark is 18, spoon-fed good manners, tall like a tree who thinks it’s a flower, sunshine laughing in his blood, he gently carries two cows back in the barn when he hears it.

Buildings decomposing. Faint, blaring cars dying. Soft whispers of ‘please please— oh god — I don’t want to die— what is that? What is that?!’

Metropolis cracks open. There’s a wound in the sky the police, the army, cannot heal. He tried calling. No one picked up.

It’s wide and scary and red and bleeds violently and Clark is so scared — but if he can survive being Perry White’s intern, he can survive this.

He grabs his Pa’s red flannel, ties it across his midsection, and flies faster than fear.

Clark learns two things that day.

1) He hits good, but he can’t throw a punch to save his life.

2) The scariest boy in the world has eyes that could make oceans cry.

Dressed in tactical gear, cobalt blue, bat shaped symbol drawn in neon across his chest. Runny eyeliner, smudged, mixed in stale blood running down his temple.

Glare so strong it could bury God.

The Bat carries an injured civilian on his back and two kids under his arms. Looks at Clark like someone seeing a shooting star for the first time.

Clark’s heart caves in on itself. Say something cool.

“I like your — blood.”

Clark hopes the next alien thing leaking from that gaping hole puts him out of his misery.

The boy blinks.

“How hard can you hit?”

Clark gulps. He gets a truck thrown at him and he stops it with one hand. He doesn’t even look at it.

“Pretty hard.”

—-

Barry Allen doesn’t arrive into battle. He trips into it.

Fifteen. Physics homework slams against settling air when he stops. Blur of red and shaking like a live wire. His sneakers light up when he walks.

“Hi! I’m Barry! Does anyone have a granola bar?”

Bruce blinks. He hands him one from the emergency compartment.

“Did everyone see that thing?! I mean — you can’t really miss it, I saw it from my house and thought ‘oh that’s weird I better go check it out’ and — IS THAT BLOOD?!”

Bruce, flat, “Not ours. Entirely.”

“Oh, okay. Coolcoolcoolcoolcool. “

Clark — carefully — moves Barry out of the way so he doesn’t get impaled by a car. Barry screams.

—-

Hal Jordan, 17 and 4 months, is five bad jokes in aviator glasses and holds the world by his teeth.

He sees Metropolis burn from Jupiter.

He inherited a dying wish from a good man, got chosen by a purpose three times bigger than him, and begs the council to go.

They have to debate first.

Hal can’t sit around to decide if this is the day he’s gonna be brave.

He crashes into battle like a green meteor, blasts Britney Spears from his ring (the battle remix), and pretends he’s not rotting with fear.

“Green Lantern, willing and able! No need to panic, people! Coast City represent! Let’s GOOOO— IS THAT A BROKEN LEG?!”

Bruce, half his face shielded by Kevlar, swallows a molar. “Fractured.”

Hal throws up a little. Clark cries. Barry looks a sugar rush away from exploding.

“You call yourself Green Lantern?” Bruce raises a brow, like he’s speaking to the human version of a typo.

“Yeah? What do you call yourself? Nickelback and Trauma?”

“The Bat.”

“…Man? Boy? Customised?”

“I can’t call myself Batman yet. If I do it now, it won’t be chronologically accurate.”

—

Oliver Queen, 17, watches it on the news.

He’s got a meeting at 11, a tan at 1, a court hearing for punching a senator at 3, and a half broken bow from last night’s patrol.

He’s pretty sure he’s going to die if he goes.

He knows he’ll regret it more if he doesn’t.

“We’re gonna die, aren’t we?”

Clark takes a breath, raises two fists he doesn’t know what to do with, and looks up to a dying sky like he’s begging it to last longer. He doesn’t answer.

He just looks at Bruce, summer blue eyes wide, fear melted over.

“I’m not hitting until you do.”

So Bruce does.

—-

A girl, taller than all of them, older than all of them, grin sharper than her sword, pierces through battle like she has war on a leash.

Diana is 18, — in their years. She kills three aliens in under a minute.

Covered in guts and glory and sunny, walks up to them like nothing.

“We will fight together, yes?”

They all nod, a bit too scared of finding out what happens if they don’t.

[c-nstellati-ns]

APOLLO, GOD OF MUSIC ... — conquest x medic!superhero!m!reader prt.1

you were retired, for gods sake. why in the hell would everything go to shit exactly when you were on vacation? you struggled to even comprehend the fact that there were more than one invincibles flying around, and now the city was falling apart all around you? retired or not, there were people who needed help and that's what you planned to do, no matter how reluctant you were about it. ... so how the hell did you manage to get yourself wrapped up with the very alien who was turning this city into a fine dust?

> author's note — this is incredibly self-indulgent and the first time i've written in literal months LOL so sorry for being inactive for so long !! this was inspired by dj subatomic supernova from NSR, lucio from overwatch and luna snow from marvel rivals ... i love me a silly guy who makes music and heals people via that music :-) not that subatomic heals people ... more like ........ he tries to kill them via music and his planets ........ but whatever !!! this is irrelevant !!!!!! ( i was gonna have this be smut originally but i like where i ended off to continue into a part two soon ^_^ so sorry if anything is bad i am very rusty ... feel free to send me some thirsts in my inbox if you'd like! ) > word count — 1.6k > featuring — our fave viltrumite, conquest <3 > cw — intentional lower case, canon typical violence, unspoken death threats? nothing much really its mostly establishing how your relationship came to be before things get steamy LOL so sorry for the bait

MDNI. 18+ ACCOUNT, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

you had parted ways with the GDA some time ago, marking it off as a need for something new. you could only fight so long, for so much. you had been in the spotlight ever since your powers had finally developed, being someone who could virtually heal anything with the power of music. it was rather silly in your eyes but it made you and anyone you wanted to protect virtually invincible. any wounds or injuries would mend in seconds in your presence, people feeling safe around you, other heroes feeling energised to keep on fighting. at some point, you felt the same way until… you didn't. it had only been a matter of time, after all.

the GDA was desperate to keep you so you kept their number just in case things were to happen. that is, until something finally did happen. it was a random tuesday, you think. you had been on the way to your hotel in the city for your little vacation, you had been waiting for so long for it. tapping into your savings from working with the guardians to afford it. you were happy, life was good. you had a nice car, a nice place far from the city, a couple dogs, cats, and one snake that you loved dearly. you were single, not that you minded much actually.

so what exactly happened? how the hell did your car end up split in half by falling debris and cradling the lifeless body of some innocent civilian that got extremely unlucky? you could barely wrap your mind around it.

it was hard to try and keep your music up enough to keep yourself safe, but to try and sweep in and aid those who were helpless was something else entirely. you let out a loud groan of frustration as you carefully set the body down somewhere undisturbed, making a mental note to come back for it later. you had to keep up, getting as many people out of there as you could, but there was always the few that escaped your grasp, all falling victim to some horrible fate that no amount of healing nor music could help. you couldn't get distracted.

you were glad you had kept the equipment the GDA had made for you, even gladder to have kept it close. the music coming off of the holographic speakers around you was loud, a beacon of hope in the midst of the destruction around you, but it kept people safe and you kept playing. you kept far away from the fighting as much as you could, ushering innocents away from their very close deaths. of course, you were putting a big ole target on your head with how loud it all was, but you couldn't care less. sounds waves were blasting anything that came your way, cracking open asphalt that trapped some poor kid underneath it all. you could spot the blood pooling next to him, his mother probably. you grimaced and carried him away, making sure to heal whatever cuts and bruises he had. thankfully, unharmed physically. mentally… you wouldn't wish that on your worst enemy.

you were doing your job well, keeping things somewhat peaceful until you spotted a stray arm sticking out of some debris. you quickly flew over, pushing off any concrete that held this person down. your heart beating frantically in your chest, you dug as much as you could, hoping that they didn't die before you got there. you grabbed at their hand and pulled as much as you could, using your sound waves to blast at the concrete as you did so. you let out a sigh of relief as you felt the warm from their palm, squeezing it in reassurance. you passed your fingers over their wrist, trying to find their pulse but no dice. so you used your powers to heal whatever injuries they might've sustained, a soothing melody that has the person feeling mushy.

"hey, are you okay?!" you shouted over the chaos around you, hand reaching out to grip at their shoulder. you pulled as hard as you can, thinking to yourself, holy fuck this guy is heavy as hell. you were about to yell again until the hand grabbed at your own roughly, your joints creaking in protest as it did so.

"woah--" you couldn't even finish your sentence before a giant man emerged from the rubble in front of you. he was much, much taller than you, and built like a fucking tank. if you weren't scared shitless, you would have asked him where he worked out. your jaw dropped, staring at the stranger before you.

conquest was having fun with this. he was having fun with all of this! this planet's defences were as measly as he had imagined, so it wasn't a surprise when the creatures that inhabited it were squished by a simple rock to their soft spots. but he was pleasantly surprised by its defender. a halfbreed viltrumite, weak like all those other flesh bags, but much more resilient. the worm even got him to bleed, which was a surprise in itself.

so who was this, mending the little scrapes and bruises that his body has yet to heal? why did it feel… good? like a warm feeling throughout his body, a hum of a familiar tune that made him want to… sleep? what the hell was this? it feels odd, he feels light. lighter than he would when he's flying, it was something else entirely. the touch was soft, much unlike he's ever felt before. a gentle squeeze, a faint hold. it was a strange combination, nothing like he's felt before. he let out a rough grunt, grabbing at the hand that was given to him, rising from the rubble he was buried underneath.

conquest brought up the creature that had healed him by the arm, thick brows furrowed as he stared down at it. it was fearful, trying to wrestle out of his iron grip and escape. but the viltrumite was curious about it now, who exactly was this worm? and was it so stupid to not know its own enemy?

you were gonna throw up. of course, of course you healed the wrong person. just your luck that you had healed THE VERY FUCKING THING THAT WAS CAUSING ALL THIS DEATH AND DESTRUCTION IN THE FIRST PLACE. you let out a pained noise as his grip around your wrist tightened, trying to just get away. you could keep yourself safe when fighting anything but a viltrumite? this was something else entirely.

you were smarter than to try and use your offensive powers against him, so instead, you allowed yourself to play a somewhat scattered melody to heal the broken bones within your hand and wrist. he tilted his head to the side, examining you like a piece of meat. i suppose that was what you were now. a stupid, musical adept piece of meat for him to tear into.

closing your eyes, you couldn't believe this was the day you would die. you didn't even get to take your vacation.

… but nothing happens? it's been a couple minutes, he should've killed you by now. you crack your eye open and take a look at him, startled by his one eyed gaze. his pupils are slits, examining you like you were some foreign… thing. and then he smiles. it's an unsettling one, but he grabs you by the waist, a much gentler hold than what he had on your wrist.

"you're the foolish one who helped me, aren't you?" his deep voice rings out over your healing melody and the rumbling chaos around you both.

you're speechless for a moment before nodding frantically, looking around for anything, anyone. unfortunately, no dice. it was just you, him and the fuck metric ton of dead bodies that he caused around you.

"hmm…" conquest mutters to himself. it was a strange feeling, the closer you were to him, the more that strange warm feeling seeped deep into his bones. he couldn't help but let out a deep purr that rattled you silly. he was like a big cat to you, a big, murderous psychotic cat. with his arms around you, it was… comforting? in a really, really fucked up way. you swallowed thickly as you stared up at him as he smiled down at you, what the fuck is going on?

"what is your name, worm?" the stranger asked, examining your face closely as he spoke. your mouth was dry, gaping like a fish out of water. his arms was tightening around you the longer you took to answer him and you stammered out your full legal out of sheer nervousness. he didn't seem like a patient man at all.

he repeats it under his breath, it rolls off nicely on his tongue. his arms lighten around your waist, your ribs definitely bruised after all this. you let out a groan, brain too scattered to make a coherent melody to heal yourself. instead, you looked back to him as his grin widened. crooked teeth and a prominent scar, you would have called him handsome if you weren't actively in danger of being ripped apart by this alien.

"… perhaps lord thragg wouldn't mind if i kept a pet, hm?" conquest purrs, that metallic hand reaching up and tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "a healing songbird, doesn't that sound nice? my little songbird." you barely have enough time to speak before he takes off with you in his arms, away from the destruction and chaos that he caused.

mark was clueless as to why conquest had disappeared all of the sudden. in a blink of an eye, he was alone, beaten and bruised on the ground. it gave him time to breathe but it was nerve wracking to think about.

What the fuck just happened?

all works belong to c-nstellati-ns ⓒ 2025. do not steal, repost or feed into AI. ask before translating.

[valleydolli]

Only You | Chapter Four

CW𝜗𝜚 MDNI, Stalking, Obsessiveness, Controlling Behaviour, Love Bombing, Murder, Fluff, Kidnapping, Smut, Toxic Sukuna, Yandere Sukuna? Readers a sweetie, (Touch her you die… like actually…)

𝜗𝜚 Series Masterlist

𝜗𝜚 Chapter Three | Chapter Five

𝜗𝜚 WC: 3.5k

You fell asleep instantly, drooling a little on his chest, but why would he mind? He's been dreaming of this since he met you. He can’t stop stroking your hair, your face, your body. He's just so happy to be able to touch you. 

You’re a deep sleeper; deep enough that he was able to open your phone and put a tracker on it. As if the cameras all around your apartment weren't enough. Now he’ll really know what you’re doing 24/7. He scours through everything, your messages, your photos, emails. He didn’t miss a thing. He was most interested in your messages with that neighbour of yours… Satoru. Or ‘Toru 💕’ as you saved him under. You gave Sukuna the same heart, just without the nickname. Is he not deserving of one? You call him 'Kuna' all the time. Do you still call him 'Toru?

He continues to scroll further up your messages stumbling across something he’s not sure if he should be happy to see or fucking livid since you didn’t send them to him. It’s a photo of your nude self asking him to come over… you’re sexting each other. He takes a moment, taking in a deep breath. You didn’t know each other yet, this was two years ago. The two of you have been close. He’s not sure if the close was a relationship or just fucking. There’s no “I love yous,” no indication of the two of you dating at all. Either or the feeling sucks. He thought he’d be your first, but he guesses that’s out the window. He has to hope you’re not fucking Satoru now. 

Hopefully. 

It’s 3:00 am now, and he still hasn’t taken a moment to not stare at your sleeping body.  His sleeping beauty. Not Satoru’s, not Ren’s, not that ugly bastard from the club. 

His. 

Maybe in a month, he could ask you to be his? 

Officially. 

You already belong to him in his eyes. He might as well start telling people you’re his girlfriend. You sigh deeply, moving from Sukuna's chest onto your back. Your lips are swollen and plump, as if you were kissed… He could kiss you, right?

Just a small peck… a small… peck.

He carefully leans down, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours, and it twitches a little like a bunny rabbit. Which causes him to smile slightly, letting out a quiet airy laugh. He carefully brushes his lips against yours before pressing into them softly. 

A small whimper creeps from his lips before pulling away. 

Shit. 

God, he wants to kiss you again. 

But his dick is so hard it hurts. He feels so dirty, but there’s a voice in his head telling him to do it again.

Just once more.

So he does just that, pecking your lips once more. Sucking lightly on your bottom lip. Do you sleep this deeply every night? Or is it because you were drinking?

“Fuck… Love you, I love you so much.” He whimpers softly against your lips. 

He needs to cum so fucking bad. 

You start to move again, flipping onto your stomach, face squished against the pillow. Sukuna runs the tip of his fingers across your lips. 

“I’ll have you sooner than later, I swear,” he whispers.

He looks away from you, looking down at the… problem you caused. Should he do it here or be a good man and leave? He continues to play with your bottom lip while he thinks. Rubbing at his erection while you soundly sleep next to him.

“For fuck sake.” 

He quickly leaves the guest room, heading to his own room to relieve himself. 

He sits at the end of his bed, slightly pulling down his boxers, feeling the pleasurable tightness around his swollen tip. He closes his eyes, imagining you in front of him, kneeling so obediently. Like the good girl you are. Wrapping your perfect lips around his swollen tip. Tightly jerking at his length—

“Mmph!” He covers his mouth, quickly spurting out heaps of his cum all over his boxers. That might have been the fastest he’s ever cum. Or was it when he touched himself in your room?  

15 seconds. 

Damn.

Will he last that long when he slides into you? God, he thinks he’ll die of embarrassment if he does. He’s now wondering how long you’ll stay for and if or when you’ll come back again. The only reason you’re here right now is because of that piece of shit, jackass that was harassing you. He’s still thinking of what he’s going to do with him. Little did that asshole know, Sukuna swiped his wallet, and of course, his ID conveniently had his address. He’s about 30 minutes away from the two of you.  Far, but close enough. Too close for his liking. 

Jogo. 

What’s with all these guys harassing you, having the worst names? Fuck, he hates them. He might hate both of them more than you. 

He’ll deal with all this another time, not now. He needs to get back to you and soak in the fact that you’re sleeping in his penthouse right now. 

He changes his boxers before walking back into the room you’re peacefully sleeping in. Slipping in next to you, pulling you onto his chest. As if he didn’t just masturbate across the hallway because he kissed you. 

He hopes you’ll stay for a while in the morning. It’s a Sunday, you can’t be that busy, and he doubts you’d want to be at home alone right now. He shuts his eyes, praying that when he wakes up, you’ll still be next to him. 

——

You wake up on a hard surface. That hard surface being Sukuna’s chest. There are prickly hairs across it, scratching your face slightly. You examine the tattoos across his entire body. Bands around his arm and torso, other markings on his chest. Incredible. You carefully run your fingers along each tattoo, completely forgetting he’s trying to sleep, until you feel him grasp your arm, causing you to jump. His eyes are still closed as if he were asleep, but he questions your actions. “What’re you doing?” His voice is deep and sleepy, startling you. 

“I umm knew you had tattoos, but I never properly paid attention to them. I love them.”

Sukuna opens his eyes, watching you continue to trace his tattoos. “When did you get them?” You ask, laying your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat quicken. You see him hesitate before answering you. “When I was 17. My dad has a few of the same too. Guess it’s a family thing.” 

He’s lying to you, by the way. He got them in prison. They’re prison tattoos. In the Edo period in Japan, they would mark criminals with these tattoos. Though it’s not the Edo period, Sukuna Itadori is most definitely a criminal.

But you don’t need to know that.

“I love them, they suit you,” you smile. “I kind of want some tattoos myself.” Sukuna frowns slightly. Which causes your brows to furrow. “No, you don’t think I’ll suit any tattoos?”

“You’re already perfect, why ruin yourself with meaningless ink? You’re like a blank canvas,” he explains as he lightly brushes your arm. “That’s beautiful to me.” You stare at him with gleaming eyes. He thinks you're beautiful. You quickly push your face into the crevice of his neck, your cheeks hurt because you can’t stop smiling. You hear him chuckling before questioning you. “What’s wrong? Are you shy?” You slowly nod your head before sitting back up, facing Sukuna. His maroon eyes are scanning your face until he reaches your lips.

He wishes he could kiss you again.

Properly.

Before he can speak again, you slam your lips onto his, shocking Sukuna completely. Did you really just do that, or is he still sleeping? He pinches his thigh, feeling the tight sting on his skin. You actually just kissed him. He moves you on top of him, slightly grinding you onto him. Heaven, he’s in heaven. Your tongues are dancing with one another, getting hungrier for one another by the second. He should stop you. He can't control himself. You do too much for him, he’s gonna—  A groan rumbles from Sukuna’s throat. 

He stiffens. 

He might just end his life. 

You slowly detach your lips from his before looking down at his wet boxers. You don’t even know that this is the second pair he’s changed into. God, what the fuck is wrong with him?

“‘m sorry,” he mutters, while not looking at you. You’re still on top of him which he doesn’t mind at all, but he’s really, really fucking embarrassed right now. You place your hands on his warm cheeks, which prompts him to open his eyes, finding you smiling at him. Not a mocking smile, a comforting one. “Don’t be embarrassed, that’s honestly a compliment to me if you think about it.” You place a soft kiss on his lips, rolling off his body. He’s still as red as a tomato. 

“Do you have a spare toothbrush I can use?” 

He doesn’t respond; he just nods his head, confirming your question. So you sit up, grabbing his hand, telling him to show you. After you both brushed your teeth, Sukuna is still on edge because;

One. He doesn’t want you to leave. 

Two. He came in his pants from kissing you. 

“Erm, do you want me to make you breakfast?” 

Yes, angel say yes. 

“Umm, I need to let Himiko get her things. I’ve got to get back.” 

Fuck.

“I’ll take you.” He says, not giving you the chance to reply, grabbing his keys and guiding you out the door. 

“I can make us breakfast at your place after she leaves?” He quickly tells you.

“Y-yeah okay, sounds good.”

“Perfect, let’s go.”

——

You walk up the steps to your apartment with Sukuna stomping behind you. The two of you come into view of your apartment door, finding Himiko leaning against your door with messy hair and smudged makeup. She hears your footsteps immediately turning her head towards you, running to hug you. “Oh, I’m so so sorry! I was drunk, stupid, careless. All of the above, but I can’t lose you, please, I love you so much.” She’s hugging you tightly, sniffling slightly into your neck, while stroking your waist gently. You don’t know what to say. But the tall man behind you has plenty to. Surely you don’t believe this bullshit ass apology. And why is she touching you like you’re her girlfriend or something? Himikos’ face lifts from your neck, staring dead into Sukuna’s eyes. She scowls at him. Why the fuck did she just– “Do you forgive me?” she asks as she instantly changes her facial expression for you. “It’s fine, Himi, I’m over it already.” 

Angel, You're a damn pushover... 

You kiss her cheek before letting her go. She’s slightly blushing from your little gesture. You turn behind around, pulling Sukuna closer towards her to properly introduce him. “This is Sukuna, Himi. Sukuna, this is Himiko. Let’s pretend this is the first time you guys are meeting, okay?” Sukuna’s face is blank, he really does not like this girl. Will he have to be around her more often when the two of you start dating? She seems clingy. He wants her gone, but he can’t get rid of your apparent “best friend.” 

“Nice to meet you… Himiko,” he mutters bluntly. “Yeah, you too,” she also replies back bluntly.

You look between them, sensing the awkwardness from a mile away. 

“Well, um, lemme let you get your stuff.” 

You open your front door, letting the two into your house. Himiko skipping inside and Sukuna, of course, letting you in before him. “Is it okay if I shower quickly? It'll be 5 minutes. Just don’t… kill each other,” you say as you eye the two of them, you can wholeheartedly tell that they don’t like each other already. Sukuna because of what she did yesterday, and Himiko? Well, Himiko is always like this. Anytime there’s a guy you like, she immediately hates him. Never giving them a chance. Not one. According to her, “no one deserves you.” “You’re too good for them.” Was she right? sometimes? Yes, but she cannot do this with Sukuna.

Ever.

Sukuna takes a seat on your sofa, making himself comfortable, waiting for you, while Himiko… was collecting her things from your room. He’s watching her from his phone, of course.

She’s strange. She’s snooping around in your room, freak. Who does that? 

…

Nevermind. 

You make your way out of the shower, running into Himiko lying comfortably on your bed. She says your name as if she’s about to tell you off. “I don’t like him.”

Shocker. 

You roll your eyes, taking your towel off, and applying your lotion. Ignoring your negative Nancy of a friend. “Are you listening to me? He looks like a criminal. And why has he got such an angry face? What’s he mad about?”

“Himiko? Do you not get tired of this? Every time I like a guy, you act like this, it’s exhausting.” 

“It's exhausting for me, too. I just want you to be with someone who’ll take care of you. Does he even have a good job? I mean, he has a nice car, but anyone can these days.” You stare at her from the mirror of your vanity, sighing deeply. You turn to her, telling her what Sukuna does for a living. “He has a great job, he has a great apartment, he’s a good guy. Himi and I actually really like him. Plus, he protected me yesterday when you left me.”

“You said you were over it,” she murmured. 

“I’m over it, meaning I forgive you, but I’m not just going to forget, I mean it hasn’t even been 24 hours.” She gets up from your bed, wrapping her arms around your shoulder, turning your head to face her. “I am sorry, okay. I would never want anything like that to happen to you. I was stupid.” She’s gently caressing your cheek with her thumb, resting her forehead against your own. 

Sukuna is, of course, witnessing all of this, and he’s livid. She’s clearly in love with you. God, he’s in love with you too, but you are so damn blind. 

“Himi, I really like him, seriously, and I would really, truly appreciate you getting along with him, I mean, what if we get married, are you still gonna hate him then?”

“You’re thinking about marrying him already?” She says with a disgusted look on her face.

“I’m just saying it as a hypothetical, but I don’t want to date just to date, I want to fall in love, get married, have kids. How can I do that when you scare all the guys I meet away?”

“Just give him a chance, if you love me, you’ll do that for me.” 

“…Fine.” 

It takes 20 minutes for the two of you to come out of your room, 15 minutes longer than you promised, but it’s not your fault; you’re being distracted by your secret admirer. 

“Sorry I took so long,” you say, giving him a peck on the lips. He goes to reply, but nothing comes out. 

This is you guys’ second kiss— no third. What will the fourth be like? Or the 20th? Will he count every single one? 

Most probably, yes.

“Sukuna… I’m leaving… and I hope you guys have a good… Sunday. Goodbye.” 

She slams your front door, finally leaving the two of you alone. You place yourself on top of him giving him a gentle smile.

“I’m sorry about her. She always acts funny when I start seeing people. I don't know why.”

Because she wants you for herself, angel. 

“I don’t know, it’s weird, no? You should tell her to stop.”

“It’s fine, as long as she doesn’t do it with you. I really hope we have a long-lasting relationship.” 

Sukuna’s lips twitch into a small smile. “So do I.”

“I want to know more about you, and I want you to know more about me.”

He already knows nearly everything about you, but you genuinely know nothing about him. Do you need to know… everything?

“Hey, if you’re not ready to tell me things about you, I don’t mind waiting. Don’t stress.” 

“Thank you.” 

——

You and Sukuna have been seeing each other for almost two months now. Things are as great as can be. He brings you flowers at the beginning of every week. He picks you up from work with Yuji. He buys you crazy expensive gifts. And she showers you with the love and appreciation you’ve yearned for. He’s perfect. Now all you’re waiting for is for him to ask you to be his girlfriend. He’s told you he’s going to be busy this week with some cases at work he needs to go over, so you haven’t seen much of him, but you’re hoping that when you next see each other, he’ll finally ask you to be his. 

“Please, man, I was drunk, I didn’t know what I was doing. I have a family, a wife, two boys.” Jogo struggles to speak out.

Sukuna has Jogo locked up in a cage in a storage unit that only he owns, miles away from the city, nearer to his family estate. No one knows he has this. It was supposed to be a place for him to relax and get away from his nagging family. But now it’s turned into something more sinister than that. For the past three days, Jogo has been held captive and tortured profusely for what he did to you that night. Cuts, lumps, and bruises all across his body. He told him he doesn’t forget a face, but it seems that Jogo was doubtful. He thought Sukuna was a stupid meathead sending out empty threats.

How wrong was he?

Sukuna followed Jogo for a good 5 days, collecting a lot of information about him. He does, in fact, have a wife and two boys. He’s also cheating on said wife with an intern at the office where he works at and she happens to be 30 weeks pregnant with his child. He paid her a hefty sum of money to terminate the pregnancy and disappear, but she, of course, said no, took the money, and left the country. He’s a regular at Kenjaku’s club, and it’s not his first time harassing young girls. Sometimes even more than that.

He's a repeated offender. 

Sukuna is doing God's work right now. This guy doesn’t deserve to walk on the same planet you reside on, let alone breathe the same air you do. Why the fuck would he allow it. Every person who harms you should be taken out of the equation.

Reduced to none.

He will continue to remove any danger that crosses your path. Ren, Jogo, anyone. 

“Jogo, I already know a lot about you. Did I tell you that?”

“I—“

“I know you’re married with kids and a baby on the way. But wait, that baby isn’t your wife’s baby, it’s your mistress’s, right? A bastard.” 

“I know.” He mutters

“Oh, you know? Do you know your wife knows now, too? You have so much proof on that phone of yours. I didn’t even need to do much, I just sent her all she needed to see.” 

Sukuna picks up a letter from the table behind him, opening the small door on the front of the box, and placing it in for Jogo to take. Before closing the door, Jogo immediately tries to open the one on his side. 

Sukuna tuts. 

“It doesn’t work like that. It only opens when I close my side.”

Sukuna closes his side, telling Jogo to open his and read the letter that was sent to him. “Go on, open it,” Sukuna tells him as he takes a seat, largely grinning. “Don’t keep me waiting, I wanna know what it says. Read it to me.” Jogo rips open the large envelope, skimming through the first few lines. He looks as if he saw a ghost. He looks up at Sukuna, who is still grinning as wide as the Cheshire cat. 

“Read it to me. I’m waiting. What is it?”

Jogos adam’s apple bobs. “It’s divorce papers.” 

“Good,  and what does it say on the uhh 10th row?” Sukuna points out.

Jogo counts down the rows, landing on the 10th. “I’ll have no assets...” 

Sukuna does a loud clap, pushing himself forward and walking towards the glass cage. “It’s fine, don’t worry. You’re not even gonna need any assets. I’m gonna kill you.”

“Wha— No!”

“Yes, I can’t have you walking around aimlessly. What if you run into her?”

“Run into who? My wife?”

“No, don’t be stupid. I don’t care about her. I’m talking about mine.” 

“Please, I was drunk, I-I don’t want to die.”

Sukuna walks into the cage, grabbing Jogo by the throat, slamming into the wall. Just like their first encounter. He whispers sinisterly in his face. 

“Being drunk isn’t a fucking excuse. I don’t care if you want to die. I’m sure every girl you assaulted didn’t want to be raped either but you did it anyway. You’re dirt on the bottom of my shoe.

You. Don’t. Deserve to live.” 

Sukuna looks down, noticing urine trickling down Jogos' leg. He’s scared. 

Good. 

He should be. 

“I’ll take my time with you, I can promise you that.”

𝜗𝜚 Authors Note: I think I have nothing to say. I sat outside in my garden finishing this. It was really nice very sunny. I got a lil tan :p

extra note: so like i got really distracted and i started playing overwatch and then i started watching an overwatch streamer and i was trying to read through this but i was so fucking distracted omg. so i’m sorry i took so long LMFAO i’m actually addicted.

𝜗𝜚 Chapter Three | Chapter Five

[jaylalolz]

❛ 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐘𝐂𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 ❜ . . . nicholas chavez

MOTORCYCLE RIDER!nicholas x LITTLE SISTER!reader 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

SUMMARY, Nicholas goes to his friend's house for help after a motorcycle accident, only to be surprised by his younger sister instead.

A/N, love this plot and everything about it. hope you guys like it 🤍

WARNINGS, none

Nicholas limped up the driveway, the sting in his leg pulsing with every step. His motorcycle had skidded out on the highway half an hour ago, the slick asphalt catching his tires off guard. He had escaped the worst of it, but the scrape across his knee and the dull ache in his side were enough to remind him that tonight could have ended much worse.

His head throbbed, and his jacket hung loosely on his shoulders, the leather torn in places from the fall. He didn’t want to go home—not yet. He needed a familiar face, someone who wouldn’t ask too many questions. So, he had headed for Chris’ house. It was late, but Chris never minded; they had that kind of friendship.

He stepped up to the front door, wincing as he put pressure on his leg, and knocked softly. The house was mostly dark, save for the faint glow coming from the upstairs window. He waited for a moment, expecting his friend to answer, but there was no sound.

A shuffle came from inside, and after a pause, the door creaked open.

But it wasn’t Chris.

It was his sister.

She stood there, a book in one hand, her other resting on the doorframe. Her dark hair fell in loose waves, and her eyes widened slightly when she saw him standing there, bruised and bloodied.

“Nicholas?” she asked, her voice soft but full of surprise. “What the hell happened to you?”

His mouth went dry. They hadn’t spoken much in recent months. There had always been this strange, unspoken tension between them—a pull that neither of them acknowledged. But seeing her now, with the faint light casting shadows across her face, something in his chest tightened.

“Had a bit of an accident,” he muttered, gesturing toward his leg. “Chris around?”

She shook her head, stepping aside to let him in. “He’s out for the night. What kind of accident?”

“A stupid one,” he admitted, limping into the living room. “Bike went down on the highway. It’s not as bad as it looks.”

She closed the door behind him, her expression softening as she took in the state of him. “You look like you need more than just a few bandages.”

“I’m fine,” he said, brushing it off. “I just need to clean it up a bit.”

“Let me get the first aid kit,” she replied, not waiting for his protests as she disappeared down the hallway.

Nicholas sat down carefully on the couch, his hands trembling slightly from the leftover adrenaline. He wasn’t used to being vulnerable in front of her, of all people. He’d known her for years, watched her grow from the annoying little sister who always seemed to hover around the edges of his and Chris’s friendship, to… this.

She returned a moment later, a small kit in her hands. “Let me see,” she said, kneeling in front of him.

“I can do it myself,” he grumbled, trying to keep some semblance of pride.

“Clearly you can’t, or you wouldn’t have ended up here instead of the hospital,” she shot back, raising an eyebrow. She motioned for him to roll up his pant leg.

With a resigned sigh, he did as she asked, pulling the fabric up to reveal the scrape along his knee. It was raw and ugly, streaks of blood running down his shin.

Her face softened. “You really should have gone to a doctor,” she said quietly, but she didn’t press it any further. Instead, she carefully wiped away the dried blood, her touch gentle but precise. Her fingers grazed his skin, sending an unexpected jolt through him.

The tension between them thickened in the quiet, the only sounds coming from the clink of the antiseptic bottle and the sharp intake of his breath as she applied it.

“Sorry,” she murmured, her eyes briefly meeting his before she focused on the wound again.

“It’s fine,” Nicholas said, his voice rougher than he intended. He couldn’t ignore the way her presence made the room feel smaller, the way his pulse quickened when she was this close.

After a few moments, she reached for a roll of bandages, wrapping his leg with practiced ease. “You’re lucky it’s just a scrape,” she said. “Could’ve been a lot worse.”

He nodded, watching her hands move with surprising tenderness. “Yeah, guess I’ve always been lucky like that.”

She paused, her hands stilling on his leg for just a second, her eyes meeting his again—this time, there was something unspoken between them, something neither of them seemed willing to break. Her lips parted as if she was about to say something, but the words didn’t come.

Nicholas swallowed hard, feeling the pull between them grow stronger. The room felt too quiet, too charged. He could see the hesitation in her eyes, the same question he was asking himself. What would happen if he crossed that line?

“Angel..,” he began, his voice low. He didn't know what he was going to say next, only that his nickname he called her felt like an anchor in his mouth, keeping him here when he knew he should leave.

She didn't move. For a moment, neither of them did. The room felt smaller, the distance between them shrinking even though neither of them had taken a step. His pulse was loud in his ears, drowning out every rational thought telling him to walk out the door, to leave things as they were.

But he couldn't.

Her eyes flicked down to his mouth, just for a second, and something inside him snapped. Before he could stop himself, he closed the distance between them in two quick strides. She didn't move away. In fact, she stepped toward him, her breath catching slightly as he reached her.

"Angel," he says, but this time it was a whisper, like he was asking for permission he wasn't sure she'd give.

She met his gaze, her eyes dark and uncertain, but full of something deeper -something that mirrored what he was feeling. "Nicholas..." she breathed, and in that moment, it was all the permission he needed.

He reached for her, his hand finding her waist as he pulled her closer, his other hand gently cradling her face. She didn't resist. Her breath hitched, and for a moment, the world seemed to pause around them, everything else fading into the background.

And then he kissed her.

It was slow at first, tentative, like both of them were testing the waters of something they'd been dancing around for far too long. Her lips were soft against his, warm, and he could feel the faint tremble in her body as she pressed against him. He kissed her deeper, and she responded, her hands sliding up to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his torn jacket.

The kiss deepened, and suddenly all the restraint they had been holding onto vanished. His fingers tangled in her hair as he tilted her head back, his lips moving against hers with a hunger that surprised him. He had thought about this-too many times, in too many ways—but nothing compared to the reality of having her here, in his arms, tasting her lips like he'd never be able to get enough.

She pulled him closer, her body molding against his, and his hands roamed down to her hips, feeling the heat between them grow with every second. The tension that had been building for so long finally exploded, filling the room with the heat of their kiss, the sound of their breaths mingling in the quiet space.

She broke away for just a second, her forehead resting against his as they both gasped for air. Her eyes were wide, lips swollen, and her fingers gripped his shirt as if she was afraid to let go.

"Nicholas.. your hurt we can’t be doing this" she whispered, her voice full of uncertainty but also something that felt like surrender.

Before he could reply, she stood up, breaking the moment. She started to gather the first aid supplies, her movements suddenly brisk and purposeful. “I’ll tell Chris you came by,” she said, her tone shifting back to something more neutral. “He’ll probably give you hell for wrecking the bike.”

Nicholas watched her, feeling the weight of everything unsaid between them settle back into place. He knew he should leave. But part of him wanted to stay.

But instead, he nodded, rising to his feet. “Thanks,” he said quietly, pulling his jacket back over his shoulders. “For, you know… this.”

She looked at him then, her expression softening just for a moment. “Anytime,” she said, but there was something else in her voice, something that told him this wasn’t just a one-time thing.

As he limped back toward the door, the silence between them felt heavier than before, but not unwelcome. It was a silence filled with possibility—possibility neither of them was quite ready to face.

Not yet.

[elodieunderglass]

I have a fictional horse question and I would appreciate your perspective!

I read all of Tamora Pierce without being or becoming a horse girl. But! A fic idea I have been rotating in my head for months needs a Horse Response and I can’t rotate the idea without it.

Peachblossom, a strawberry roan gelding who is tricksy, bitey, and grumpy, has just saved the life of a person he has previously annoyed. Person (and the other people present) respectfully thank Peachblossom for doing so. And Peachblossom gives a Horse Response, to the effect of “you’re very welcome; I’m very wonderful; apples plz.”

What might that look like? I’ve put in a series of complicated ear flicks as a placeholder but it doesn’t feel correct.

Thank you for any horse thoughts you may have! It’s been very fun learning about Killie and his entourage. I’m particularly fond of Derek.

(killie the jockey OC's tumblr tag) Aww that's very kind! I'm continually amazed by meeting new people who say they're fond of Killie and his absurd network.

Peachblossom!! EXCELLENT hateful and independent strawberry roan representation! I remember him.

One sweet way that horses show affection and build bonds is to share breath. it's as sweet as it sounds. they place their foreheads close to each other, touch noses, and gently blow air from their noses into each other's nostrils. that serves as general greeting, kiss, affection, scent-sharing, gratitude, and various other expressions of intimacy, kinship, and/or friendship. in the image below they are being VERY sweet and completely pressing their faces together (saying LOVE LOVE LOVE and PEACE PEACE PEACE.)

I'll go into more detail below

if you want to do this with a horse, you should empty your mind and try to be relaxed and peaceful and indicate psychically that you want to do it. they'll usually have to put their head down for you to reach.

Another thing horses do to each other is to scratch each other's withers - the high point of the shoulder. they do it like this, which is super cute and heart-shaped:

they cannot reach this space of the body for themselves, and so this is especially delicious Prize Scratching Opportunity. to scratch each other's withers, they stand shoulder to shoulder and nibble each other with their teeth. it is Extremely Good. if you want to do this to a horse, you can usually offer to do it by saying something friendly and putting your hand on their shoulder - if they move away, they don't want it. scratches will normally be received well (only do this with horses that you're allowed to touch, of course, and upon invitation.)

various horses may do these things to each other in various different ways (or not at all). we are also differently shaped from horses. so the body language can be funny in translation. Horses actually do recognise this, though.

I had a horse friend once (a big stupid retired Thoroughbred - he wasn't mine, he just lived with my friend's horse) who would lovingly reciprocate a withers-scratch by wrapping his neck around my body to delicately, gently and respectfully remove my ponytail holder with his teeth and lips. this, to him, was the equivalent in body language. You can see EXACTLY how his mind was working! reach a high point of the body that SEEMS kind of like withers, this is where the mane is on humans, isn't it - this is the highest point - I'll give it a nice - OH you've got a big knot there!! I'll get it out for you!! Don't worry, I'm exceptionally popular BECAUSE I'm so good at grooming. OH MAN IT WAS ONE OF THESE THINGS AGAIN! you're always picking these up! do you roll around in them?! and then he would carefully give the hair elastic to you, with his mouth. Can you imagine - how careful and gentle he had to be to do that. And of course the correct thing is to say: "WOW big guy thanks SO much!!!!" and resign yourself to having a certain amount of green horse-smelling grass-slime in your hair. that, you see, is an expression of genuine cross-species love and communication - an invitation to love and be loved as a fellow member of the planet - and is to be treasured, even if you stink now and didn't really want your hair down.

And finally, a horse that thinks you are going to give it some treats will nuzzle and mouth at your clothing to find where you are keeping the treats. in case you have temporarily forgotten that there are treats in your clothing. their lips are surprisingly mobile. hi. hello. horses get treats.

those are all things that nice horses do.

now, horrible and rude horses do exist. they all have different personalities. they are extremely social animals. in an ordinary horse social life they will have size differences (sometimes quite significant!), dominance structures, breed differences, and multiple-species friendships. and therefore, each horse will initiate contact or express emotion in a different way.

a CHEEKY way to express affection, for example, can be just straight-up knocking a human over with their face. that's because a charming, kind and sweet thing for a horse to do to another horse is to firmly press faces together and share breath; the human/horse equivalent (as polite and intelligent horses know perfectly well) is to carefully imitate this by lowering their nose to your face level so you can blow in their nostrils with your little tiny face; the CHEEKY thing to do is to whack you with their nose and blow pneumatic amounts of snot on you. GET LOVED IDIOT. SNOTTED ALSO. and then laugh about it.

I can imagine that being in line with Peachblossom's sense of humour (not that I remember him especially well.)

tossing his head and arching his neck and dancing a bit to do a bit of stallion-ish showing off (I am tremendously gorgeous, aren't I) and then getting serious and calm and still for a second and putting his head down as if to nuzzle and share breath (I do actually like you a little bit) and when you fall for it, a very slight headbutt (hahahahaaahahaha you THOUGHT! you THOUGHT!!!!) followed by WHERE'S THE FOOD LMAO.

[fear-is-truth]

COLIN ZABEL — relationship headcanons

you’ve always heard people say, “find your person.” someone you want to share every sunset with, someone who feels like the start of all the best things in life. someone you want to keep learning about, discovering in small and big ways, even as the days, months, years slip by. you never thought you’d be that lucky, but then you found colin zabel.

colin, who remembers your coffee order down to the exact amount of sugar and cream, and hands it to you every single morning with a self conscious smile.

colin, who was so nervous the first time he asked you on a date that he couldn’t meet your eyes, clearing his throat and shifting his gaze to the floor, mumbling out an invitation in a way that was so painfully endearing you couldn’t help but say yes.

colin, who drives across town just to pick up pastries from your favourite bakery on sunday mornings, bringing them back with that look on his face that says he’d do it every day if it made you smile.

colin, who once poured his heart out to you after a few too many drinks, confessing that he had been terrified to fall for someone so completely and utterly.

colin, who keeps that photobooth picture folded carefully in his wallet—the one where you’ve just snuck a kiss to his cheek, and he’s caught mid-surprise, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. it’s a bit blurry, but it’s his favourite photo.

colin, who panics a little whenever he’s away from you too long, mind racing through all the things he forgot to say before he left. he’ll text you, even if it’s something that seems small and insignificant, just to let you know he’s thinking of you.

colin, who puts his coat around your shoulders when it’s chilly and you’ve forgotten to wear one, who fumbles with the zipper as he tries to keep you warm, even if he’s shivering himself.

colin, who insists on carrying your bag when you’re out together, not because he thinks you not capable of carrying them yourself, but because he loves looking after you, in any way he can.

colin, who tries his very best to comfort you when you cry at sad parts of movies, wiping away your tears with his thumb, even when he’s blinking back his own.

colin, who becomes completely sure of himself when it’s just the two of you. despite the stresses of his job, the long hours, the pressure—it’s like he saves all his energy for making you feel cherished, seen, desired. he knows you, knows what you need, and even when he’s exhausted, he gives you every bit of himself, like he’s still amazed he’s the one you chose.

and he loves kissing you, in every way—soft, lingering ones when you’re curled up together, quick pecks before he heads out the door, and deeper, needier ones when he’s feeling bolder, his hands slipping to your waist, holding you tight. sometimes, he just leans in to press his forehead to yours, closing his eyes and letting out a small sigh, pouring every ounce of his love for you in a single touch.

colin, who falls asleep holding you, an arm draped over you protectively. sometimes, you’ll wake up to see him already awake, just looking at you, his gaze so filled with tenderness it almost breaks your heart.

colin, who pulls you close in the morning, voice rough with sleep as he wraps his arms around you, begging you not to leave. just five more minutes. but those five more minutes often turn into ten, his kisses sleepy and unhurried, turning into something more, hands tracing gentle lines across your skin as he thrusts into you, morning light spilling onto your naked bodies.

colin, who loves to steal sips from your mug, always giving you a sly smile afterward, like he’s gotten away with something. when you call him out, he just shrugs, leaning in for a kiss that tastes like your favourite tea or coffee. he laughs when you do the same to him, pretending to be indignant, but you both know that he loves it.

colin, who sometimes stares wistfully at baby strollers when he thinks you’re not looking, his gaze lingering a little longer on strangers with babies. there’s a hopeful smile on his face, something almost dreamy in his expression. and when he catches your eye, he’ll immediately look away, shrugging it off, but you know he’s already imagining a future where it’s the two of you, maybe with a little one of your own.

colin, who watches you when he thinks you’re not paying attention, a soft, almost awed smile on his face, like he can’t quite believe you’re his. sometimes he’s so focused on you, lost in thought, that he doesn’t even realise you’ve caught him. your eyes meet, and he’ll blush, looking away with that heart-melting smile that makes you fall deeper in love with him then before.

he’s your person, in every simple, meaningful way. colin zabel, who is all the warmth, the tenderness, the home you’d never thought you’d find, and you’re his—his quiet, everyday happiness, the one he’ll keep choosing, day after day, for as long as you’ll let him.

 fear-is-truth

[daisynik7]

imma hit you with a twofer: extra smooth by aaliyah with geto...and gimme more by brittany spears with kishibe

Extra Smooth

Pairing: Suguru Geto x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~3.0k

cw: next-door neighbor Geto who is kind of an asshole, shy reader, smut – PIV sex (doggy style), cunnilingus, sex without a condom, sex toy use

Summary: Your next-door neighbor is loud, inconsiderate, and unfortunately, very hot. No matter how many times you bang on his door with another new noise complaint, he’ll continue to repeat his offenses nearly every weekend. You’re too timid to submit a formal complaint to the landlord, so you shrug it off, hoping that one day, he’ll suddenly become nice. That day comes sooner than you think, when he unexpectedly makes a visit to your apartment, discovering the real reason you need your peace and quiet.

Author’s Note: @demonwoman Mephisto! I LOVE this song and Aaliyah, honestly this was so perfect for Geto. Thank you for requesting a two-fer for the y2k karaoke party! I’ll post the Kishibe one soon. Had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you have just as much fun reading it! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciating, thank you for reading! MDNI divider by @/cafekitsune.

part 1 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series

Even with your headphones in, music on high, you can still hear the loud bass reverberating through the shared wall of your apartment. You remove one of the buds in your ear to press it to the plaster, listening carefully to your neighbor having another party next door. Rolling your eyes, you save the document on your screen before shutting your laptop closed, quickly putting on a pair of mismatched sweatpants and sweater. This isn’t the first time you’ve had to go over to Suguru Geto’s apartment to ask him to lower the volume. You did it last weekend, and the one before that, even twice last month. It isn’t fun for you to be that person, but the intense bass that rattles your bedroom walls really is distracting. You thought that after the first two times you complained, he would be more conscious of it. Nope, still noisy and obnoxious as ever. The problem is you’re too chicken shit to make a formal complaint to your landlord. Of course he isn’t taking it seriously, not from his timid, home-body neighbor next door. Why should he when it’s only you that it’s bothering? 

You slide into your fuzzy slippers and make your way out into the hallway, closing the door shut behind you. A few steps and you’re in front of Geto’s, knocking three times. You can hear people chatting and laughing from inside, not responding. You wait another couple of seconds before forcefully pounding on the door with your fist, finally getting a reaction. The chatter hushes and soon, he reveals himself, answering the door with a tight grin on his face, clearly annoyed. “What can I do for you, neighbor?” he grits through his teeth, still maintaining a forced smile. 

You cross your arms over your chest, suddenly insecure in his presence. There’s no denying it; he’s an attractive man, tall and lean beneath tight-fitting clothes. Long, black hair drapes down his back, a portion of it wrapped in a loose bun, loose strands falling before his handsome face. And sure, maybe sometimes he crosses your mind while you’re in your bedroom, playing with the toys you have currently hidden away in your nightstand. But that’s as far as it goes: fantasy. In reality, your next-door neighbor is an asshole.

“Could you please lower the volume of your music? It’s really loud.” You decide not to bring up the other incidents from the past, not wanting to aggravate the situation any further. 

He grins at you, disingenuous, definitely irritated, but trying not to show it. “Sure. I can do that. Anything else?”

You shake your head, muttering a quiet, “Thanks.” You glance at the people inside, who stare at you, snickering to each other.  

“Nice slippers, by the way,” he taunts, before slamming the door shut. There’s an uproar of laughter from inside, and you retreat back into your home, irked by his attitude. It’s not that hard to be considerate of others, right? So why is he making this so much more difficult than it needs to, making you feel like the asshole? You shake it off, trying not to let it bother you. He actually does lower the volume, so you’re satisfied, despite the unnecessary insults you hear from the other side. God she’s so lame. She’s home alone on a Friday night, what do you expect?

With another roll of your eyes, you open your laptop, resuming where you left off. Your fingers type away at the keys fluidly, your concentration regained, hating yourself a little bit for what you’re about to type, especially after what just happened:

Yeah, you want this cock, don’t you?

Been hungry for it this entire time, huh?

[clothing rustling]

Well, go ahead. Come get it. Use me like you’ve always wanted to. 

[spits into hand, starts stroking his cock]

I’ll be a good neighbor to you from now on. The very best.

~~~

You finish the script past midnight, falling asleep before you get a chance to proofread and edit it. There’s no title yet, though you have a vague idea of what you want it to be. Saturdays, you’re usually out with friends throughout the day, so you decide to finish the rest of it once you’re back home from dinner tonight. Before you leave, you type a quick title at the top of the page: [M4F] Your Hot Asshole Neighbor Finally Decides to Be Nice to You. 

This isn’t the first script you’ve written. Last month, you tried your hand at it and it got picked by one of your favorite nsfw voice actors. The thrill of hearing their deep voice moaning the words you wrote motivated you enough to work on another. The commission payment is an added bonus. With your full-time job occupying your week, weekends are the only free time you have to write, especially Friday nights. That’s why you need your concentration; and that’s why Geto’s loud music bothers you so much. You can’t completely hate him, though. After all, he’s the inspiration behind this latest piece, though you will never admit that to him. Ever. In fact, this entire gig you’re doing is a secret only for you to harbor. Not even your closest friends are aware that you’re doing this as a hobby. 

The document sits temporarily forgotten on your laptop while you galivant with your besties throughout the day. After a delicious dinner together, they drop you off to your apartment, where pour yourself a glass of white wine to sip on in your pajamas while you edit your naughty script at the dining table. 

You’ve read it twice through, starting from the top for a third review when there’s a knock on your door. You check your phone, searching for a text from a friend who might be stopping by, but you see none. Confused, you tip toe in your fuzzy slippers to look through the peephole, surprised to see Geto standing on the other side. 

You open the door, greeting him hesitantly. “Um, hi.”

He nods, hands in his pockets, giving you a quick scan before speaking. “Hey. I, uh, locked myself out. The landlord isn’t going to be back until an hour or so and I’m too cheap to call a locksmith right now. Is it cool if I just hang out in here while I wait?”

You consider this carefully, still in disbelief that this happening. You can’t just kick him to the curb and refuse, especially when it’ll only be for a short while. Deciding to let bygones be bygones, you agree to help him, opening the door wider to let him through. 

“Thank you,” he mutters, stepping inside. “Do you want me to take my shoes off?”

“Yes. I think I have some slippers for you. I’ll be right back.” You rush to your bedroom, searching for a pair of slides that he can use in the meantime. It takes a while to find them, buried under a pile of junk in your closet. Before you head out to meet him, you quickly put a bra on, acutely aware that he might have caught sight of your nipples peeking through the thin layer of your shirt. It doesn’t matter, though; he doesn’t think of you in like that anyways. You’re just his lame, lonely neighbor next door, right?

You return, looking towards the couch, expecting to see him sitting there. To your horror, you catch him at the dining table, seated where you previously were before he arrived, staring at your laptop screen. 

“Hey!” You hustle towards him, slamming it shut with enough force to rattle the table. 

He glances at you, cheeks red, an odd expression on his face. “What was that?” he asks, pointing to the computer. 

You snatch it away, storing it in one of the kitchen drawers, desperate to hide it as if the damage hasn’t already been done. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

He stands up, lips parted, trying to find the words to say. “That was…I’m pretty sure it said…Is that about me?”

Your skin is sweltering now, beyond freaked out and unsure how to fix this mess. Is it better to lie and try to chalk it up as one big joke? Or should you be honest and hope he’s understanding about it? Either way, there’s no turning the clock back. He’s already read something, and it’s not going to be leaving his mind anytime soon. 

You decide to tell him the truth, as best as you can explain it. “Okay, I know it’s weird, but I write these types of scripts for voice actors to perform. It’s just a little part-time hobby I have, and I even get paid for it. Sure, it’s a little risqué, but it’s nothing illegal, okay?” He continues to stare at you, expression relaxing just the slightest bit. 

“Also, it’s not about you. Maybe it’s a little bit inspired by you, but it’s definitely not about you. Not exactly,” you add, uncertainty laced in your voice. This is even more mortifying than you expected it to be. Is it too late to break the lease on your rent and move across town?

It’s quiet for what seems like forever. He doesn’t respond, contemplating your explanation silently to himself. Eventually, he takes a couple steps towards you, reaching behind to slide the drawer open, pulling your laptop out. You’re frozen, stunned by his close proximity, anticipating his next move. Finally, he says, “I want to read the rest of it.”

“What?”

He smirks, tension easing from his shoulders as he sits down, taking a swig from your wine glass. “I want to finish it. It was getting good before you stopped me.” He opens your laptop screen, the document appearing exactly where he left off. 

You bury your face in your hands, taking the seat beside him, groaning. “I can’t believe this is happening right now.” You refill your glass almost to the brim with wine, taking a large gulp of it before passing it to him. 

“Did you really think you could keep something like this a secret? This is pretty wild,” he chuckles, tipping it into his mouth, at the same spot where you did.

“I didn’t think you’d be the first person to find out, though.” You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for whatever is about to unravel from this. 

“Fair enough.” He scans the words, reading each one meticulously. “So are these lines supposed to be, like, what the voice actor says? It’s just them talking?”

“Yup.”

He giggles, blushing. “Okay, so, we’re pretending that I’m the asshole neighbor. Got it. Are you sure this isn’t about me?”

“It’s inspired by you. Inspired,” you reiterate, swallowing a large gulp of alcohol. 

He bites his lip, hiding his smile. “Okay. Um, so it says here in the bracket that there’s knocking.”

“That’s the cue for sound effects.”

“Got it. So,” Geto knocks thrice on the surface of the dining table, reading, “What can I do for you, neighbor? Oh, you want me to turn the volume down? Is it too loud for you again? This is totally about me!”

You can’t help but laugh, shrugging. “Maybe it’s a little bit about you.”

He hides his smile behind his hand, swearing under his breath. “Shit, okay.” He clears his throat before continuing. “I’m sorry for being so noisy these past few weeks. Do you think you could ever forgive me? Do people really get off on lines like this?” 

“Just keep reading it!” you yell at him, playfully kicking him beneath the table.

“Okay, okay! Ahem. I think I know exactly what I can do to make it up to you. I know you like me, even though I’m such an asshole. Think you can forgive me for just one night?”

You clench your thighs together, concealing the arousal growing between your legs. You’ve always thought he had a sexy voice but paired with the script and knowing what’s about to come, it’s hard to control your desires.

His voice is hushed now, low and sultry. “Yeah? That’s what I thought. You want this cock, don’t you?” Geto swallows thickly, pausing to catch his breath. “Been hungry for it this entire time, huh?” There’s a blush in his cheeks again. He shifts in his seat, hands down at his lap. “Well, go ahead. Come get it. Use me like you’ve always wanted to. Whoa, okay, this is…this is getting a little crazy now,” he chuckles nervously, avoiding your gaze. 

Unable to resist your curiosity, you glimpse at his crotch, an obvious bulge protruding from his sweatpants, stunned that he’s hard right now. Without thinking, you scoot closer to him, placing your hand on his knee. He meets your gaze, eyes wide, lips parted. 

“If you want to, we can stop,” you whisper, fingers trailing his inner thigh delicately. You can’t deny it any longer. You want him. You’ve always wanted him. And if he didn’t feel the same, he would have already been gone by now, too weirded out by your strange hobby to stick around. Yet, here he is, playing along with it, playing along with you. 

You wait for his answer, resting your hand dangerously near his erection strained in his pants. “I don’t want to stop,” he says, spreading his legs wider for you. “l want to be a good neighbor to you from now on. The very best.”

~~~

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” he pants, stripping his clothes off hastily as you watch him, already naked on your bed. When he’s finished, he hovers over you, relishing the sight of you beneath him. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a passionate kiss, tongues swirling around each other’s sloppily. “You’re sure you want to keep going?” you ask between smooches. 

He laughs, sucking on your bottom lip. “I’m not stopping this for anything. Are you sure you want to keep going?”

You nod at him, guiding his hands to your breasts. “Absolutely.”

He pinches your nipples until they’re perky and you’re whining in ecstasy, rutting your hips against him, desperate for friction. He slides down, leaving a trail of kisses along your body until he’s at your arousal, tongue lapping at your clit. You squeeze his head between your thighs, his mouth pressed firmly to your cunt, slurping at your juices. “Fuck, Geto. Feels so good.”

“Suguru,” he muffles, lips latched to your swelling bud. “Call me Suguru.”

You run your fingers through his hair as he eats you out, tugging at the strands when you reach your first orgasm, gushing all over his face. He licks you slowly as you come down from your high, flicking the tip of his tongue on your sensitive bud. He reaches down to stroke his cock, stiff in his fist and leaking with precum. “Fuck, you taste amazing. So fucking pretty when I eat out this sloppy cunt. Can I fuck you now, sweetheart? I want to make you come around my cock.”

You roll over in bed, spreading your ass cheeks for him. “Yeah, fuck me, Suguru. Fuck this wet cunt.”

He wipes the sweat beading on his forehead, jerking his cock feverishly in his other hand. “Fuck, I knew you were a slut, I just knew it,” he huffs, slapping his dick on your ass, rubbing it slowly between the soft flesh of your cheeks. He guides himself inside you, stretching you out little by little until you swallow him up completely. He starts thrusting, his motions extra smooth from your previous orgasm. “All those nights, I listened to you touch yourself with those vibrators. I’d stroke my cock with you, come whenever you did. Your little whimpers are so fucking sexy, especially when you try to hide them. You have no idea what you do to me.”

You’re too fucked out to process his confession, throwing your ass in tandem with his thrusts. His grip is tight on your waist, fucking you like you’ve never been fucked before. Suddenly, he pulls out, pussy fluttering around nothing, eager to be stuffed gain. You whine, craning your neck to glare at him while he gives you a naughty smirk, reaching for your nightstand. “Are they in here? Your toys?” He searches it blindly, retrieving one of your favorites, clicking the button to activate it, buzzing in his hold. “Use it while you use me.” 

You obey his request without question, holding the vibrator against your sensitive clit as he pushes himself back inside you, pounding away at your cunt. You climax twice more around him, completely spent now, brain like mush, letting the toy fall off the bed, slippery with your cum. He laughs at your docile expression, pulling out to bury his face back into your pussy, licking off all the cum smeared over you, determined to make you come again. When you do, he crawls up the bed, a satisfied smile on his face, straddling you while he pumps his cock in his fist. After a couple strokes, he shoots onto your tits, covering them in his pearly cum, moaning your name. 

He helps you clean it off, grabbing several tissues from the nightstand, wiping your chest dry. You scoot closer to the wall to make room for him, snuggling beside you with his mouth grazing your forehead, giving you a smooch. 

Thinking logically again, you recall his confession from earlier. “Can you really hear me through these walls?”

He chuckles. “Yeah. But only if I’m listening really carefully.”

“And did you really…?”

“Yeah. I did,” he admits, blushing. “Sorry. I guess I’m kind of a pervert.”

You giggle, nuzzling into his chest. “Well, what does that make me then? Who’s the one who wrote filthy scenarios about you?”

“I thought you said it was only inspired by me?” he teases, cuddling you closer. 

“It was totally about you, okay? I just never thought it’d actually happen.”

He massages your back lovingly. “Aren’t you glad it did?”

You peer up to smile at him. “Yeah. I am.”

~~~

The following weekend, there’s another noise complaint. This time, however, it’s you receiving it from your neighbor on the other side, complaining about how loud you and Geto are while having sex.  

[matchpointfaist]

the people (me) are asking for anything riff x reader related. also love love looove everything you write <333

this is so short while i'm workin on the next part for the riff series but i wanted to get somethin out!!!

riff saved up the whole summer to get you somethin' nice, silly as it sounds. he coulda easily just stolen you some rich lady's watch or bag off the street, but he didn't wanna subject you to that. he wanted to be good, to prove to you that he could.

so he occupied all his free time working odd jobs around the city, construction or painting or electric, anything to put a little cash in his hand. he finally managed to save up just enough to get you the pretty silver necklace he'd been eyeing in some fancy shop window, walking through the door with all the pride in the world, like the patrons weren't looking at him in disgust.

he was there gettin' a gift for his girl, with his hard earned money, just like any of the rich guys your parents would want you to be with. sure, it took him three months to afford it, and sure, he'd never be able to do anything more than that, but he knew you'd love it anyway.

it was simple, a silver chain with a star pendant, but it was perfect for you. his shining star, his angel. he was itchin' to give it to you even as he was checking out, wrapping it up safely and heading to meet you across town.

you met him at the usual spot, just a little ways down from your parent's driveway, squealing with excitement and throwing yourself into his arms as soon as you got close enough. "missed you," you mumbled into his neck, clinging to him like it had been years. "just saw you last night, you silly thing," he tsk'd, but his cheeks warmed at the sentiment.

he'd missed you too, of course. he always did, when you were all the way across the city in your big house, miles and miles from him. he saw you in everything, in the mundanity of everyday life, noticing things he never would have before simply because he knew you'd like it, had you been there to see it. "don't care," you giggled, pulling back to smile up at him, "miss you all the time,"

"missed you too, girly," he grinned, "got you somethin'," "for me?" your eyes got all wide like you just couldn't believe it, "you didn't have to do that!"

"wanted to," he waved you off, excitement buzzing in his veins, "close your eyes f'me," you were obedient as usual, letting your eyes fall closed, smiling giddily as you waited with outstretched hands. he let the chain dangle into your palm, the cool metal startling you slightly, "open up, baby,"

your eyes were so wide, watery immediately upon the sight of the necklace, tracing the charm with your fingers fondly, "oh, riff," you sniffled, pouting up at him, "it's so beautiful,"

he wiped your eyes gently, smiling down at you, "don't cry over a necklace," he teased, but his eyes were soft as he came to stand behind you, draping your hair over your shoulder to expose your neck.

he took the necklace from you, fastening it carefully around your neck, pressing a kiss to the exposed skin beside the clasp. "pretty necklace for my pretty girl, hm?"

you turned in his arms, looping your own around his neck to pull him closer to your height, kissing all over his face between giggles, "you're so sweet, riff, done gone all soft for me,"

"yeah, yeah," he rolled his eyes, squeezing your jaw lightly as he held you still, kissing you with all the affection he'd been saving up since your last little visit. you melted in his arms, like always, a soft little content noise muffled by his own mouth as he kissed you until he was breathless, warm all over.

"gotta go before i get carried away, sweet girl," he mumbled, kissing your forehead, "got a rumble tonight over in my neck of the woods, anyway,"

you pouted, nose scrunched, "wish you wouldn't put yourself in danger like that," "i ain't in danger," he rolled his eyes again, kissing you quickly, "only ones in danger are those sharks, y'hear me? now don't go worryin about me, silly. you just sit pretty and wait on me to come see you, mm?"

"yes sir," you nodded, teasing, "you better come see me tomorrow," "ah, doll, you keep callin me sir and i'll come see you tonight," he grinned, squeezing your sides, "i'll see you soon, promise,"

"you better," you gave him one last kiss, hugging him tightly, "i'll wear my necklace forever n ever," he pulled on the chain lightly, his smile softening, "you better, baby. all mine,"

"all yours," you giggled, kissing his cheek, "now get goin so you can come back to me sooner, pretty boy,"

god, he was so lovestruck for you.

[mandoriana]

I imagined a story, where Arthur was born a woman, but Uther wanted an heir and forced his daughter to be a boy. However, Arthur is not trans; she is not a boy, even having muscles, wearing pants and armor, or even working with the knights. Arthur is a woman, and looking in the mirror and seeing a man is torture for her. No one besides Gaius and Uther knows about this. Morgana suspects that Arthur is gay but doesn’t know that Arthur just wants to be seen and looked at as a woman in the same way Morgana is seen. Basically, it’s a body dysphoria that many transgender people experience.

Since Arthur was always raised as a man, she doesn’t have a feminine name and hates being called Arthur, so she insists that everyone calls her Sir or Prince (I don’t know about outside my country, but Sir and Prince in Brazil are neutral names/nicknames).

When Merlin arrives in Camelot, he quickly clashes with Arthur and then saves her life, becoming the prince’s servant (Uther forgot that Arthur was a woman). At first, Merlin finds it strange that Arthur doesn’t let him help with anything, not being able to put away Arthur’s clothes, not helping her dress in normal clothes, only in armor, and not being allowed to wash her clothes sometimes (due to menstruation). Merlin also notices that the prince has strange behaviors, like staring too much at some ladies’ clothes like a pervert (Arthur was just envying the dress), getting more irritable and emotional once a month (PMS), and burning bloody cloths in the fireplace. Merlin saw this only once, and Arthur was so embarrassed that she kicked and yelled at Merlin to get out (medieval pads).

Anyway, Merlin starts to notice these details about Arthur while getting closer to the prince. One day (perhaps in the episode where Sophia enchants Arthur), Merlin needs to take care of an unconscious Arthur and decides to dress her in more comfortable clothes. When he opens the wardrobe, he is surprised to see feminine underwear and a crumpled dress hidden at the back. At first, he worries that he is serving a pervert, but he realizes there are no male underwear in Arthur’s wardrobe and starts to piece together that maybe the prince owns the feminine underwear. Merlin, always open-minded, decides it’s none of his business and grabs a soft white tunic that Arthur used to sleep in and goes to dress his prince, only to almost have a heart attack upon finding breasts instead of a muscular chest.

When Arthur wakes up and realizes someone changed her clothes, she panics and starts crying when she sees Merlin. She wanted to get angry and yell, but she can only beg Merlin not to tell anyone. Merlin approaches carefully and hugs Arthur, apologizing and saying it wasn’t his intention to hurt her and begging for forgiveness for violating her honor by seeing her body without permission. From then on, the two become even more inseparable than before. Merlin listens to what Uther forced Arthur to be and decides he will do everything in his power to make his PRINCESS the happiest woman in the world. Merlin starts spending his salary on dresses and corsets made to fit Arthur’s muscular body, starts calling Arthur by feminine pronouns when they are alone and neutral pronouns in public, refusing to call his princess by masculine pronouns. What I mean is that Merlin becomes the knight in shining armor that Arthur was forced to be, and Arthur finally gets to be the princess she always wanted to be.

I think the most exciting part I thought about this story was Merlin having the honor of naming Arthur, removing the name Uther forced on his heir and giving her a name worthy of the future Queen of Camelot. So one day, Arthur is wearing one of the dresses Merlin gave her and smiling at herself in the mirror, and Merlin calls her Astrid, making the princess cry because it was the first time in her life she felt like herself.

In the end, Merlin reveals his magic to Astrid, and Astrid reveals it to Morgana when Merlin tells her that Morgana has magic. This way, Morgana doesn’t become the villain, joining her beloved sister to overthrow Uther. It all ends with Astrid being crowned Queen, Morgana as the regent princess, and Merlin as the king

😊👐

[justwinginglife]

Behind Closed Doors

More nsfw cuz why not. Also i swtg I can write other positions besides missionary but the sub in me just religiously needs this man atop me so forgive me for self indulging a lil more.

You were very much taken. Very very much so. Taken body and soul. But not by your boyfriend. He was a side note at this point. Maybe not even a side note, maybe he was the little bullet point you put next to the side note.

No, the space in your heart and the space in between your legs was reserved for a certain Vice Captain. You'd never even touched yourself before you met him, but now you couldn't stop touching yourself thinking of him. Whether it was daydreams in broad daylight or wet dreams in the dark of the night, you were his. You were Soshiro's.

You shouldn't even be calling him that. To you- he was Vice Captain Hoshina. Did he know how you felt about him? Maybe. Probably. But he also knew you were taken even though you unfortunately did not seem to know that. He tread more carefully than you did and you wished to god that he would stop. You wished he would take you on the conference table while all the higher up's watched. You wished he would take you on the training mats while all your fellow officers watched. You wished everyone would know he was yours and you were his. Everyone except your boyfriend. You couldn't let him know this dirty little secret of yours.

You were his innocent baby girl. You'd never touched anyone but him, never thought of anyone but him. He was your first and your only. He knew you back when no one knew you. You were something of his to protect, something of his to keep safe and sound in the comfort of his home. So when you suddenly announced you were joining the Defense Force, you who had never done anything remotely dangerous or wild, you who had never even had a rebellious phase, you destroyed some part of the image he had of you. His pretty little princess would never dirty her pretty little finger let alone shoot a gun and get soaked in the bloody aftermath of what her gun could do. But for old time's sake he tried to hang on to whatever it was the two of you used to have. Then when you moved cities away to the Third Division, he promised he'd visit and he sent you letters almost every day. To be honest, you hid his letters when Hoshina did his rounds. He knew you had a man, but he didn't have to know just how active this man was in your life. For all he knew, your boyfriend might've forgotten about you.

Your boyfriend didn't understand you the way Hoshina did. He didn't understand the thrill you got when you sliced down a kaiju after months of training trying to perfect a single move. He didn't understand the sense of success and accomplishment you felt when your combat power was read off to you, having significantly increased what it was last. In fact, your boyfriend had seen you fall off a bicycle once when you were younger and never ride one again. But when you were with Hoshina, you could ride on the back of his motorcycle with ease as long as you could hold tight to him. And he let you hold as tight as you liked. After all, for all he knew, your boyfriend might've forgotten about you.

Sometimes you wish your boyfriend would forget about you. It drove you crazy that all he could seem to talk about in his letters were memories the two of you made when you were younger. He had nothing to say about the you that you were now. He'd done his best to ignore it. "My girlfriend is off doing some cute girl shit, like modeling or something," you were sure that's what he was telling all the people in your little neighborhood. Fuck, if he could see you now he'd shit himself. He always promised to visit but he never did, couldn't quite bring himself to see what you'd become. You'd become strong. You'd become independent (save for craving a certain vice captain). Really, he didn't even know you anymore. The only person who truly, truly knew you was Hoshina.

And the more you knew him, the more you spent time with him, you'd become convinced you were the only one for him too. No one else could go from laughing with him over something stupid to brawling with him to flirting with him in a matter of minutes.

A strong man with a sense of humor? Recipe for disaster. You could see yourself cooking with him in the kitchen one minute and him bending you over the kitchen counter the next. He was too dangerous to be letting him roam free in your mind. The things you wanted to do to him and wanted him to do to you- they occupied more time in your mind than you wished.

So now, when you hear Hoshina knocking at your door, you think he might just be here to make all your wildest fantasies come true. He's not. He's here to bring your boyfriend who is finally visiting for the first time in months. You try to keep the disappointment from your face and you're not sure you've succeeded because Hoshina smirks. You're just sure Hoshina must've been sizing up your boyfriend the whole walk here, and now it looks like he's decided he's better. He's not wrong.

You give your boyfriend a small smile. "You're here...I can't believe it." You wonder if he can hear how fake you're being but he doesn't notice, he's too busy gaping at your short hair. "Wh-what did you do to your hair??" He demands.

You raise an eyebrow at him. It's been months since he's seen you and this is what he prioritizes? Shitting on your hair? You want to roll your eyes so bad. Hoshina watches, amused. He must know what you're thinking. He always does.

"Yeah, it was getting in my face all the time. This is easier for when I'm fighting." You say finally, hoping the logic in your explanation will end the conversation.

"You actually fight? I thought you were maybe like a secretary or something." He rubs the back of his head.

Hoshina scoffs, rapidly growing more annoyed with every word he speaks. "She fights and she fights well. What's the problem?"

Your boyfriend seems to be uncomfortable that Hoshina is defending you and stepping into what he thought was a private conversation. In fact, he thought Hoshina would've left by now and it's irking him that he's still here.

"No, you don't get it. She couldn't hurt a fly. Once, she fell off a bike and was so scared to ride a bike ever again." He protests, trying to have some sort of upper hand on Hoshina because he had more history with you.

Hoshina laughs, amused. "Look little lover boy- maybe you don't know her as well as you think you do, cuz she rides just fine on the back of my motorcycle. In fact, she rides just fine when she's the one driving it."

Your boyfriend's jaw drops and Hoshina smirks, crossing his arms as he waits for a response.

"Look, I appreciate the effort it took for you to come all the way out here, but you really shouldn't have come. I think you should go home, you belong there and I belong here. That's all there is to it so I think we're done here, I'm getting tired of this conversation." You say, hoping to bring a quick end to your boyfriend's surprise visit.

Clearly this is not the reaction your boyfriend expected you to have. He must have thought you'd beg him to stay the night or something. Protect you from the thunderstorm like some scared little girl or whatever.

He doesn't move from his spot.

"Pal, she said she's done. I think you oughta call it a night." Hoshina gestures for some soldiers walking by to escort him off base. You watch as your boyfriend is led away, shock still evident on his face. You sigh.

"You're a lifesaver, you know that?" You turn to Hoshina, surprised to find that his eyes are already trained on you, watching you carefully. "Got something to say?"

He smirks again. "That's some boyfriend of yours. I take it you're not too serious about him then."

You roll your eyes. "Was it that obvious?"

His eyes seem to change in an instant, like some sort of dam wall just broke open inside him. Like he's just been waiting for you to say that. He steps closer to you, backing you into your room a little. Your heart thuds in your chest.

"Hoshina...?"

He keeps walking towards you, his eyes never leaving yours. He kicks the door closed with his foot and backs you into a wall.

"Hoshina." You repeat, but the word comes out weak. You know where this might be heading and you don't want to come off like you're protesting, because you're not. You're ready and you've been ready.

"Yes?" He places a hand on the wall beside you and nuzzles up against your neck. "What is it?"

You inhale sharply as you feel his breath caress your skin. You seem to forget everything you want to say. Did you even want to say anything? Or were you too focused on his lips? On his shirt that was a little too tight or the bulge in his pants that was a little too big.

"Nothing to say, love?"

You shake your head no as your eyes flutter closed, enjoying the feeling of him being so close to you. It's a better high than you could have imagined and you never want to come down.

He chuckles and the sound rumbles low in his throat, you feel you could get drunk on the sound. "You know, I think today has been a pretty productive day, wouldn't you say? I got to meet this boyfriend of yours and see how I stack up. I'd say I've got the edge, wouldn't you?" He starts to kiss up your neck.

You let out a whine and his breath hitches in his throat at the sound.

"Fuck, you make the most delicious noises. I knew you would." His voice is almost a growl, his words coming out rough and hungry.

He grips your hips, massaging at your underwear line with his fingers. He starts to nibble on your ear then he moves down to suck at your neck again, then your collarbone. His hips begin to rock up against yours.

You finally find your voice amidst the haze that's clouding your mind. "Are you going to tease me all night or are you going to fuck me, Vice Captain?"

His head snaps up suddenly so he's eye to eye with you. "Well goddamn. Feisty little thing, aren't you? Fucking turns me on." Then, without another word, he brings his lips colliding with yours, devouring you with a bottomless hunger.

You push back against his lips with an equal intensity. He forces his tongue into your mouth and you moan against it, causing him to grip your hips tighter as he continues grinding into you.

He pulls away just slightly and you think you'll finally be able to catch your breath but then he murmurs against your lips, "I'm gonna fuck you so hard you won't remember you ever had a boyfriend," and you suddenly forget how to breathe.

Then he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, making his way to your bed. To say he sets you on the bed would be putting it too lightly. He slams you down on the mattress and yanks at your pants with his teeth, dragging them down the length of you.

You groan, surprised by his force but liking it all the same. He exhales heavily, pleased by the sounds escaping your lips.

For a moment, time stops as he towers over you, just enjoying the pretty picture of you spread out beneath him. Then you start to slip your fingers below your underwear and his hand shoots out, stopping you from touching yourself.

"Absolutely not. No one's allowed to make you wet but me. Not you, and certainly not your dumbass boyfriend. I'm going to make you forget what it feels like to be with anyone else but me."

"Actually we... we never... had sex. It's my... first time." You mumble, flushing a little at the confession.

He throws his head back, sucking in a breath. "Fuck. You mean to tell me I get to be the first one to ruin that gorgeous fucking cunt of yours? You just made my night." And with that, he rips off your underwear and plunges two fingers deep inside you. You gasp at the sudden sensation but then your eyes roll back as you savor the feeling. You can't help but arch your hips into him, forcing him deeper. He smirks at your eagerness and curls his fingers to hit your g-spot. Your eyes widen and you wrap a hand around his wrist in protest.

"N-not yet, I don't want to c-come yet." You plead as he continues to rapidly finger fuck your clenching walls.

"Baby we have all night, I plan to make you come more than once. In fact, I plan on making you unable to even walk by the time I'm done with you, how's that sound? Besides, I'm the Vice Captain, I'm sure I could excuse you from training tomorrow and who knows, maybe we could even continue this then."

His fingers drill into you so vigorously you think they might bruise your aching pussy. Then, after a long hard attempt (it wasn't that long) at holding back, you finally give in and squirt all over his fingers, moans growing louder and louder as you climax.

He groans just watching you, palming his throbbing erection as you spill your sweetness all over him. Then he can't take it anymore, he decides he needs to taste you so he bends down to lap up the slick that's lining your sensitive slit. You whimper in return and it edges him on, causing him to lick at you more ravenously. He sucks on your clit and the feeling sends sparks shooting through you.

"I w-wonder if your dick feels as good as I imagine it does when I touch myself." You choke out, eager to know what your words will do to him. He hisses and pulls away from you, yanking his pants down to free his bulging cock.

"You're about to find out, babygirl."

He positions himself over you and drags his member up and down your entrance, coating it in your arousal before sharply thrusting it inside you. You bite back a scream as he continues slamming into you viciously, not allowing you any respite.

You groan at how desperately he's fucking you. "I see you've been dreaming of this too."

"You. Have. No. Fucking. Idea." His words are breathy and scattered as he digs his fingers deeper into your hips, steadying himself. "Those perky lil tits of yours, that tight dripping pussy, that luscious ass, I need em all." On cue, he reaches up to squeeze your breast, running this thumb across your peaked nipple.

"I'm yours. I'm all yours...Soshiro."

His eyes widen at you calling him by his first name for the first time. "Damn right you are baby. Damn right."

His breathing starts to get more erratic as you clench around him, sighing as he flicks his finger at your nipple with more urgency. The heat in between your legs starts to build until it's almost painful how badly you need to come. You're teetering on the edge and you're so incredibly desperate to orgasm.

"I need you to fill me up... Soshiro. I need it so bad."

His hips start to tremble at your words and he pounds into you more violently as his answer. Then he starts to shudder as one final thrust sends his cum spurting into your depths. You groan with him as you finally find your release, the feeling of him pumping his desire into you having overloaded your senses.

The two of you lay there panting against one another for a moment and then he starts to laugh. You give him a puzzled look.

"It seems your boyfriend position is vacant now, or soon to be, mind if I take the spot?" He grins devilishly.

What a cheeky bastard.

You accept, of course.

[staybabblingbaby]

Soulmate Garden AU Ch.5 (Verbena)[Chapter ending] a1d1

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Growing up, you knew Soulmates weren't all that they cracked up to be. So when, on your 18th birthday, your skin is painted with a garden of flower buds, you resolve to hide it from everyone. Who had ever heard of someone with 8 soulmates, anyway?

Or; Reader has 8 soulmates and no issue avoiding all of them. It's up to SKZ to show her that while every soulbond might not be made of fairy tales, theirs certainly could be.

Word Count: 1,076

TO THE UNAWARE: THIS IS A PROGRESS UPDATE OF A CHAPTER NOT REMOTELY CLOSE TO DONE! PLEASE DON'T EXPECT A FULL OR POLISHED PRODUCT HERE

Notes: This is the ending for Ch. 5 as of now <3 She has no middle lol this is just how we roll o7 I've been writing these in spurts of sleep deprived inspiration i can't wait to read them back lmao what kind of hot mess am i making of this chapter rn?

Dividers by @saradika

Warnings: She/Her Reader, There are many vague things that could need warnings but i'm not sure they do? lmk

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks <3

Masterlist <3 | Main Part (Unfinished </3)

You don’t know why you don’t cry to Taylor as soon as you get home. He’s more invested in all of this drama than you at this point, but still. You don’t tell him. You decline his invitation to eat dinner and listen to the latest gossip from his work, heading straight to your room.

Well, you say you don’t know why, but you do. If you’d stop to think about it for more than half a second, you do.

You’re tired of unloading on him. The two of you were close, but the past few days had really put you in each others pockets in a way you didn’t think you were quite comfortable with. You were used to working through your troubles on your own, and you didn’t like to trouble Taylor when he already did so much for you, but you couldn’t stay quiet around him either.

Something about being prodded made you explode every time.

So, you smiled at him, pretended nothing was wrong that he didn’t already know, and fled to your room. Ran away like you always do.

It’s fine.

Instead of taking comfort in your best (and only, a mean little voice points out) friend, you dig around your room for a while, looking for the really nice noise-canceling headphones your sister had given you for a birthday forever ago.

Your sister had always been something of an audiophile, on account of the whole music snob thing, so she’d taken personal offense to your best headphones being a cheap pair of earbuds that had probably survived more than their fair share of accidents.

In the single most touching move anyone had ever made on your behalf, she’d saved her own money for months to buy you this pair, presenting them to you with the proudest grin you’d ever seen, insulting you with every breath but so, so caring beneath it.

You’re slammed with the memory of her toothy grin when you finally find the headphones, tucked carefully away in the bottom drawer of your desk. You couldn’t describe the feeling the memory leaves you with. Regret, affection, guilt, love.

The wonderful storm of a sibling, you supposed.

‘She doesn’t know about my soulmates.’ you muse as you turn the headphones in your hands.

In the end, you do nothing about that. You just clamber into your bed, bury yourself in far too many soft things, and jam the headphones over your head.

Your relationship with music is, like most things, complicated. You could live and breathe music, you rarely let a moment be truly silent. You don’t think you could stand it if you did.

And yet, you never rarely listened to music either. Not truly, not deeply, not the way some people let it consume their air in their lungs and burn the blood in their veins.

Maybe because you knew full well how deeply you felt it, when you allowed yourself to. You’d spent many nights as a teen laying in bed, not feeling real, letting music explain your emotions to you.

It was a habit you’d stopped when you’d accidentally freaked your sister out. One night you’d been far too overwhelmed, far too done with life, far too ready to fade away into oblivion. Your sister had come to bother you about something or other, as she always did, and as you always let her (because before her there was nothing to be bothered about, anyway).

Except, that day, for whatever reason, you’d taken your astral projecting to some banger playlist or another a bit too far. She’d tried calling for you, tried shaking you, pinching you. She’d waved her hand in your face, tugged at your hair, pulled out your headphones, anything she could think of in that moment.

Eventually she’d started crying, calling for your parents, and crying harder when no one responded. It was her wailing cries that had finally roused you, and she’d gone from sorrow to rage so quickly you’d gotten whiplash.

The way your sister tells the story, you’d looked halfway dead. Eyes half-lidded and vacant, breath shallow and slow, as still as a corpse. Her first thought had been drugs, but there’d been no trace of any when she’d ransacked your room after. She’d been the one to do the research, to badger you into therapy, to force you to live.

So yeah, you hadn’t really indulged since.

But tonight- tonight you had an agenda. Tonight you were going to get to know your soulmates. Exposure therapy or whatever.

You were especially looking for insight into 3Racha tonight. You knew they were the producing unit of the band, that they wrote, composed, arranged, and produced a majority of Stray Kid’s songs. You held a deep belief in being able to know someone through how they created.

You were of the firm opinion that one couldn’t hide themselves in art. No matter how far art diverged from the artist, one would always leave a piece of oneself behind in their work. From the way writers told their stories, to how painters chose their colors, to the melodies that emerged from a musician. Every word, every color, every note, it all held a bit of their creator.

It was a philosophy you’d been reminded of at the museum today. In every painting you’d discussed, throughout all the differing opinions you’d held on their meaning, their stories, their emotions, you could eventually tell which artist had made what painting.

Even before properly analyzing the techniques and subjects, after a while there was a certain vibe about a painting and, sure enough, when you checked it was the artist you thought it was. It was probably a consequence of spending far too long studying far too many paintings for a chance to talk to (who you know knew was) your soulmate, but still.

Even for a fraction of a moment, you’d been connected to the artists. You’d known them then, even in the vaguest of senses.

As you scroll through the Spotify profile of your soulmates, you figure they have plenty of material around for you to get to know them in this way.

With this resolve in your heart, you hit shuffle on the “This Is Straykids” playlist, pull up the details with the song credits, and settle in to study.

And, if the music carries you away to somewhere softer, somewhere warmer, somewhere less scary, well. You could use the help.

The 'Everything Always' Tag List: @chancloud8 , @sh0dor1 ,

Beloved Betas <3: @brbwritingfanfic , @lazyfacecowboy

The Petal List (aka, SGAU update tag list <3): @4ng3l-ch1ld , @sunfk88 , @kaleigh-2002

(If you'd like to be added to a progress taglist, comment below for this series or on this post for any of my other series <3)

[ruggiezz]

— CHRISTMAS SPIRIT : twisted wonderland

[synopsis] they couldn’t go back home for the holidays, so how do they spend them with you?

[characters] ace, riddle, kalim, vil, malleus

[content warnings] food is mentioned

★﹕ACE TRAPPOLA — building a snowman

The streets were decorated with colorful lights, lamp posts had ribbons wrapped around them, and kids were running around playing with the snow. You could tell it was Christmas season from a mile away just by looking at the huge Christmas tree that decorated the park.

Even if it was around 7 pm, the streets were full of people shopping at the last hour. The windows of the stores were all advertising discounts to get more sales, from expensive items to affordable ones. 

Ace had already bought your gift weeks ago. It was something you mentioned you wanted once, you probably had forgotten about it, but he had saved for months just to see the smile on your face when you opened it.

While walking to a cafe Cater recommended, you saw some kids making a snowman together in a nearby park while their parents chatted while sitting on a bench. Grabbing Ace's hand, you rushed to a spot in the park and rolled some snow to make the body. He protested at first but he got to work almost immediately.

Helping you decorate it was the fun part. He collected some pebbles while you continued molding it. As he decorated the face so it would look like it was frowning, he laughed at you for protesting about the facial expression. Ace said it was ‘the best snowman in the park’ and that you both ‘won against those kids’. You grabbed your scarf and wrapped it around the snowman, claiming it was so it wouldn't 'feel cold'.

Sadly, you forgot the weather was below 0°; but before you could even say something or complain, you felt Ace wrapping his red scarf carefully around your neck.

“Sheesh, I’m your boyfriend, and you’re favoring a snowman over me. I'm going to freeze now, you know? …I'm just teasing, let's go or we won't find any tables available.”

★﹕RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS — decorating a gingerbread house

Usually, Sam makes Christmas sales in the Mystery shop around December, but this year it made a huge fuss because of the new items he added. The students that stayed in school grounds were buying almost everything, so you thought you could check it out. 

All the items were eye-catching, but a particular gingerbread house set stood out the most. It was selling fast, and you wanted one, so why wouldn't you buy one to decorate with your boyfriend?

Riddle couldn't say he was surprised when you showed up in his room with a box of frosting sleeves and gingerbread walls. A few Heartslabyul students who stayed too bought some sets and decorated them in the common areas (and that got them collared, which made them have to go to their own rooms or the cafeteria tables). He thought about it and decided to give it a try, since he wanted to spend time with you and he already finished his book of crosswords.

His side of the gingerbread house looks neat, exactly like a model a company would use in an advertisement, following the instructions carefully paid off. Your side looks slightly messy, with the frosting dripping on the sides and some of the candy falling off. The best way to describe it would be like an earthquake happened, and it only affected half the house. But Riddle still liked it; he could see the effort you put into it; you could even say he felt fond of it.

Riddle had a lot of fun decorating and spending time with you. You handed him the colorful chocolate candy package as he gave the final touches on the ceiling.

It wasn't the perfect house, but it was one made by the both of you.

“It isn’t tidy or neat, yet it has a certain charm to it... Don't put frosting on my face!”

★﹕KALIM AL-ASIM — singing christmas carols

He really likes spoiling you, and you could tell that he was planning something big due to how big his grin had been since December started.

Kalim promised to walk you to Ramshackle after the end of your classes, promising to spend the rest of the day with you. He even finished his homework for the end of the break early so Jamil couldn't object!

The second the bell that indicated the start of winter break rings, Kalim rushes out of the classroom, going straight to the stairs so he could go meet you on another floor. Jamil had to yell at him from a distance to not walk too quickly or he would slip and fall off the stairs. Kalim looks like an excited puppy waiting for you in the hallway, wanting to receive that kiss you always give him as s greeting, it's the best part of his day.

He grabs your hand and starts walking to Ramshackle, excitedly telling you about his plans for the both of you for the winter break, talking about the gifts he will send to his siblings, and about the meal you can both have on the 25th. When the both of you run out of conversation topics, Kalim just hums the melody of a carol, swinging the arm, holding your hand back and forth, and walking as quick as he could.

Kalim looks back at you, giving you the brightest smile he can physically make, and asks you to sing along with him. He'll teach you the lyrics. Or maybe, if you want to, you can both sing carols from your world.

He's just a big fan of carols; he even tells you about how Jamil and he sang them together every Christmas when they were kids. He would love the idea of being able to sing with you together; he wants to know more about you and the traditions in your world.

“Come on, let’s sing together! We can be like a duo; it’ll be so much fun!”

★﹕VIL SCHOENHEIT — watching christmas movies

As soon as he found out you were staying at the school grounds during the holidays, he invited you to stay in Pomefiore. Vil can't have you getting sick or getting your skin dry; the coldness of the environment wasn't good for anyone's skin.

Vil arranged a room for you with all the necessary things you could need, even preparing a set of expensive pajamas he bought for you as an early gift, yet you still sneaked at night to sleep in his bed. It's not like he was complaining; it helped him sleep better at night. You are made to go to sleep early anyway, sleeping is important to maintain your natural beauty.

The second day you opened in your laptop the huge catalog of the (expensive) streaming service you bought especially for the holidays. You asked Vil to watch some Christmas movies with you and he agreed. He knew you weren't familiar with this world's iconic movies, so he would act as your guide.

The both of you made it a habit to sit in his bed a few hours before bedtime and watch some Christmas movies. You played a movie he recommended or that caught your eye, got comfortable, laid your head on his shoulder, and he got to speak about his thoughts on the actor's performance. This was the routine you both followed every day. But one particular movie caught your eye—one he starred in months before entering NRC.

It was good; it was a rom-com where he starred as a side character. You found yourself watching it multiple times, even in his absence. It was a movie with a good plot, your boyfriend starred in it, and he got to talk about the behind the scenes. It was a win-win.

“Did you enjoy my performance, hm? My acting is always on point; expect nothing but the best from me.”

★﹕MALLEUS DRACONIA — sharing hot chocolate

Since Malleus stayed behind because he wanted to spend the holidays with you, that meant the rest of the Diasomnia family did too, so they were all invited to a Christmas sleepover at Ramshackle. And he could never decline an invitation, especially from you.

Sebek was delighted to drink something sweet, just like Grim, who was happy to be able to eat whatever he wanted. Lilia was reminiscing over old memories of when they were younger, like a proud father would, and Silver was listening and adding more to what Lilia was saying.

There was something comforting about the heat coming from the mug he was holding and the sweater you bought specially for him. Malleus has never been sensitive to the cold weather, but the warmth he felt in his heart seeing how well you got along with important people in his life was more than welcomed. It was simple—nothing like the fancy celebrations at his castle back home—just the six of you spending time together while chatting about anything.

It wasn't a foreign feeling; he often felt this way around you, but he could never get enough of it. He smiled at you as you refilled Sebek's mug, who was discussing with Silver about their childhood memories, while you listened intently, clearly interested. Lilia noticed Malleus staring at you and teased him about it, but Malleus only smiled proudly at him and kept drinking from his mug; some of the marshmallows you added to his cup sinking to the bottom.

If any other student witnessed it, they would be speechless over how Malleus Draconia, the scary prince nobody wants to anger, was so content drinking hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows in a snowman mug. But they would be even more speechless if they saw the tender way he looked at you.

“This night has been nothing but delightful; you surprise me more and more every day. I want nothing more than to make more memories like this with you.”

[thenovelartist]

The Best Lies Start with the Truth - Chapter 1 - Honkai: Star Rail fanfiction

Amphoreus, but DanStelle Series #2 - <<Previous - Next>>

Next Chapter >>

A crash landing, walking statues, and being disarmed by an extremely capable fighter. This was what Dan Heng had been expecting arriving on an unknown planet.

Then making treaties, meeting people who performed unexplainable miracles, saving a town from corrupt soldiers, and finally being escorted into the capitol city. Also what Dan Heng had expected.

Honestly, the possibilities of what he could expect on trailblazing missions were endless.

“This whole ‘riding on a lizard’ thing is kinda cool,” Stelle commented, holding March’s camera up as she snapped photos. “And gives a good view of the area.”

Dan Heng sat beside her on the dromas, as it was called. They were alone on this massive beast, thankfully. Despite having many questions, he didn’t want to be riding with anyone else right now. This moment of privacy was much needed. “Stelle.”

Setting the camera in her lap, she turned toward him. “Something wrong?”

Realistically, only a few things. Internally, a lot more. Because above everything else, the one thing that had rocked his world was the intimate moment they had shared after first regaining consciousness. An intimate moment that he’d ended with a kiss.

He could not have had worse timing there. After months of noticing his increased awareness of a certain trash-scavenging troublemaker aboard the train he inhabited, he’d decided it was best to test the waters slowly and carefully. They were so vastly different people, and differing species furthered the gap between them. Any moves he made in regard to emotional feelings would have to be a calculated risk on his part.

And yet, all of that had been thrown out the window the moment he…

Aeons, he didn’t know what came over him. Worst of all, now that the door was open, it was impossible to suppress the feelings he desperately needed to keep in check right now. Feelings that would muddle the execution of what he was about to suggest. “I think it would be wise if we pretend we were a married couple.”

That got her eyes to shoot wide. He couldn’t pretend he didn’t know why. “Uh… Why?”

Because I don’t like the way that fighter, Phainon, was looking at you. Because I don’t like the way you collect a gaggle of men trailing after you with each mission. Because I don’t think you notice at all.

Because I didn’t think you’d notice me the way I’d secretly hoped you would. And because a part of me even now has doubts about everything.

But above all, because I deeply care for you.

Shame burned in the back of his mind. These unregulated emotions were going to land him in trouble. He could just feel it.

“Because it will provide us with a layer of protection,” he said instead. “We’re alone here with no way to contact the Express. There’s no back up, no escaping. Right now, we only have each other, and if we were to get split apart, that would be particularly dangerous right now.”

Stelle’s expression grew serious. Without taking her eyes off his, she put the camera away. “I hate that you’re right about that. But what does pretending to be married have to do with anything? Wouldn’t just saying we’re teammates be enough?”

“It makes us harder to split up,” he swiftly answered. “Saying that we are teammates means we are close and duty-bound to each other, but don’t have the same obligatory connection to each other a married couple would have. People wouldn’t mind dividing us as we would not able to object to logical separations, such as if it comes to lodging or offering assistance. But people would be more hesitant to get in the way of deeper connections.”

“Like between a husband and wife.”

Dan Heng nodded.

Understanding dawning on her, Stelle glanced around at the other dromas. Specifically, the people riding them. “I see what you’re saying. It’s a social protection.”

“Yes. So, are we in agreement?”

After a moment of thought, Stelle hung her head in her hands. “Aeons, this is like the plot in one of March’s trashy novels. This was not what I meant when I wanted this!”

He was going to pretend he didn’t hear that. Though he was fully aware she’d responded to his kiss and even mirrored his affections, his heart was still too flustered to accept much more information on the subject. Especially since the part of his mind that did still work reminded him they desperately needed to focus.

A few beats later, Stelle dropped her hands and sharply inhaled, gathering her composure. “Agreed. Now, what’s our cover story?”

His brow furrowed. “Cover story?” he repeated, the words strange in his mouth.

“In case we’re questioned?” Stelle said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “People like to talk. Like, how long have we been together, where’d we get married, how’d you propose. Things like that. If March’s romance novels have taught me anything, it’s that we need our story straight.”

“You’ve been reading too many of those.”

“And yet, I am not wrong.”

He stared at her flatly.

Her brow remained lifted in challenge.

With a sigh, he turned away, looking out over the rubble scenery. He supposed she had a point. They’d hardly look like a married couple if they couldn’t keep their story straight. “Alright, fine. Pray tell, what does this cover story include.”

“Let’s start with our first kiss.”

A strangled noise escaped his throat, fire rushing up to his cheeks.

There was a twinkle in her eyes as her smile widened. Though, the tilt of her brow proved she wasn’t as unabashed by it as he would have assumed. “You said we’d talk later. It’s later.”

Turning away to compose himself, his eyes drifted closed as he ran a hand over his jaw. He’d really walked straight into that one, didn’t he? And here he’d been hoping to avoid talking about it for a while. His heart was a mess, and the last thing he wanted was to reopen the problematic topic when what he needed more than anything was to shove it away. They may be heading toward the holy city capitol, but if the last few missions taught him anything, it was that the capitol was the center of chaos. Considering what had happened thus far, he knew he would need complete focus.

Something that was impossible with the object of his affections sitting by his side, pleading with him.

He inhaled, hoping it would steady his erratic heartrate. “What is there to discuss right now?”

“You really like me?” she asked, a tentative hope wavering in her starry eyes. “I mean… like that. It wasn’t just ‘heat of the moment’?”

Every emotion was written on her face right now, the most notable being her hesitancy. Stelle wasn’t hesitant. Stelle was full force forward at any given time. Stelle was unbridled confidence that got her into trouble. Which made this unusual emotion vastly out of place on her. This doe-eyed look almost gave her a delicate, feminine edge, the kind men in historical accounts went to wars over.

The lightning spark of protectiveness in his chest proved he was no exception.

“No,” he assured. The urge to reach for her was so strong, his hand awkwardly hanging in the air before his mind kicked in, ultimately deciding to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “I’d never do you the disservice of degrading you in that way.”

Her eyes brightened like a full moon, and like the sea, his heart was pulled along by it. “So,” she asked, “I can kiss you again?”

Words caught in his throat. He had to cough to clear it. The heat in his face flared again. “I’d…” He glanced around at the other dromas, and the people riding them, “prefer to keep that… private.”

She looked a little disappointed at that, but it didn’t dim her radiance. “Alright, I’ll let you off for now. But please tell me this means we’re dating? Like, for real. Not pretending.”

He didn’t know why that question surprised him at all, yet it caught him off-guard. A second’s thought would challenge him to think of what else a kiss would suggest other than romantic intentions? Furthermore, what was the next step for a couple who shared romantic intentions if not this?

The part of him that wanted to avoid all this now was shrinking. His emotions were running too rampant at this point, yet he didn’t want to stop them. His corners of his lips ticked upwards. “I… suppose it will make this marriage cover story easier.”

“It would,” Stelle agreed, the gleam in her eye turning mischievous. “But, to use your words, that doesn’t answer my question.”

His smile grew. “Yes.”

Stelle was practically bouncing in her seat now, her heels tapping against the droma’s saddle pad as she wiggled about. She was adorable in that way, and Dan Heng’s heart grew warmer. He hadn’t expected the tightness easing from his chest, nor did he expect the way his pulse evened.

“So,” Stelle clapped her hands together. “Now, that we’ve defined our little relationship, we get to make a whole plan for the fake one. How’d we meet, how long have we known each other, who made the first move. All that.”

“The best lies have a grain of truth to them,” Dan Heng answered. “It would be easiest to keep our story straight if we stick to the truth as much as possible.”

“So… we’ve known each other for two years. We met when you tried to kiss me.”

“No.”

Stelle snorted in amusement.

He sighed. This woman was already making him regret agreeing to date her, wasn’t she?

Not in the slightest, but he didn’t want to admit to even himself how endearing he found her little quirks and habits.

“We met on a space station,” he clarified. “Or because we can’t explain everything, we can say we met at a research organization.”

“Oh, that’s a good one. You were a visiting traveler, and they were assisting me?”

“With… health complications?”

Stelle shrugged, her fingers immediately hovering over her chest. “Not far from the truth.”

“And people shouldn’t pry further than that about something private.” Dan Heng continued. “We fought alongside each other when it came under attack from… should we say Nikador’s titankin?”

“Meh, titan of strife; aeon of destruction. Same thing, right?”

Not quite, but she did bring up an interesting point. One he would set aside for now. “After that incident, you joined my crew, and we proceeded to travel together.”

“And then you asked me out.” Propping an elbow on her knee, she laid her chin in her hand, her expression turning coy in the process. “Where’d you take me? I want to know what kind of first date we had.”

Dan Heng tried to keep himself composed in the face of her embarrassing question. “Is that important?”

“Super important.”

He gave her a doubtful look, one that didn’t have half the bite he wished it did. “Stelle.”

“Can’t you humor me?” she asked, shooting him that sweetly pleading look again. The one he was growing weak to. “A girl wants to dream.”

He sighed. “I took you… out to dinner.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “That’s so boring.”

“Then what does Stelle’s fantasy hold?”

She suddenly froze, her eyes darting to the side.

He waited.

Was it just him, or did her cheeks take on a pink tint?

She bit the bottom of her lip before her eyes darted back to him. “Stelle’s fantasy should wait.”

“That terrifies me.”

Sheepishly, she giggled.

He took a breath. “Then we’ll put that aside for now.”

Dramatically, Stelle pouted. “Fine, but the price for moving on is you get to bear the embarrassment of me asking you out.”

“That’s how I’d see it anyway.”

Stelle looked offended at that. “You don’t even have the decency to be ashamed? Where’s your pride as a man?”

“I have plenty. The question is not what is romantic but rather what is believable. And anyone who has known you for any amount of time would believe that you were the bold one and made the first move.”

“And yet, you kissed me first.”

He did, technically. There was the heat in his face again. “Yet, you were the one to clarify our relationship. Hence, it’s not unbelievable that you asked me first.”

Stelle seemed to mull that over. “I want to argue. I’m mad that I can’t.”

Dan Heng smirked, feeling much like the winner of that exhausting round. “Onto the details of our marriage.”

“On your homeworld, with their customs,” Stelle swiftly answered. “But… ugh, the sky secret again. Um… your hometown.”

Dan Heng thought it over before nodding. “So that if there’s any significant item that signifies a marriage here, we can simply say it’s different where we came from?”

Stelle froze. “Yeah, I guess that, too.” Her grin was sheepish. For what, he didn’t know. “We can leave out the ‘you’re not welcome at home’ thing, though.”

That, by no means, needed to be brought up. “We can just say the ceremony was private.”

“Friends only?” Stelle offered. “March would have a fit if she didn’t make it to our fake wedding.”

Scary thing is that she would. In his mind, he could practically hear March’s cries of protest.

He wondered how she was fairing. Hopefully, the Astral Express put some distance between them and Amphoreous to test if that would help March.

Dan Heng pushed the thought aside. Though he cared for March, she was the least of his and Stelle’s worries at the moment. “Friends only,” he agreed.

“How long have we been married?”

That was a good question. Dan Heng had to think about that. “Recently?” he supplied, probing her reaction.

“Longer than five minutes ago,” she hissed.

“Five months?”

Stelle frowned, tapping her fingers to her lips as she thought it over. “Two. Maybe three.”

“That recent?”

She waved her hands out in front of her as she explained the timeline. “We met two years ago. It takes just under a year for me to fall for you, another three months for me to ask you out because I got tired of waiting!” She gave him a pointed look. “Leaving nine-ish months. We dated for…” She gave him another look, her expression crumpled in thought. “Just how long do you think it took for you to ask me to marry you?”

His brow furrowed as he thought over her proposed timeline. Just how long would it take for him to decide if he wanted to marry Stelle? In reality, it had taken a year plus a few months for him to realize that what he felt toward Stelle was more than just friendship. As for the remaining months, he’d spent half that time trying to squash the feelings entirely. He’d failed that. Only once he’d admitted his defeat, he’d begun reasoning whether this was a wise idea to pursue a coworker romantically, or if something between them would work out long term in the first place. And what of their lifespans as differing species? Would that affect the outcome of a relationship between them?

And all of that was paired with the question if Stelle returned his feelings in the first place. She was so vibrant and kind to everyone. Then, he had to factor in the way she was quite affectionate with the Astral Express crew at large. In the end, he never could tell what her lines between family, friendship, and romantic interest were.

But… that wasn’t the question here.

“One month.”

Stelle’s eyes widened. “So you’re proposing newly wed.”

“I proposed three months ago, but it took two to set up the preparations for the wedding.” Three months would be easy to remember. That was how long he’d spent mulling over endless questions in his mind after finally facing the truth.

Stelle beamed. “Oh, so I won you over quickly?”

“You forget that you were not the only one whose feelings were growing before the initiation of our relationship.”

Her eyes shot wide at the confession.

One that caused his cheeks to burn hotter than any of the times before. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “And six months is enough time for me to assess the risks verses the benefits of a life-long relationship with you.”

“That… is so unromantic and yet so very you.”

“It would be unwise to rely solely on fleeting emotions to determine whether to pursue a relationship or not.”

Her expression flattened. “I’m about to reject your proposal.”

“It would be inconvenient to the story if you did.”

“Ugh. I suppose.”

“Getting back on track,” Dan Heng said. “Is that all the important things?”

Stelle started counting on her fingers. “Meeting, getting together, proposal, marriage. We aren’t talking about the dating part.” She tried to glare at him, but an amused grin cracked her facade. “I think we got most of it.”

“Good.”

“One last thing.”

“Hmm?”

She leaned forward, her face close to his. “This is a crappy honeymoon.”

It was impossible not to laugh at that.

~~~

The gentle marching of the dromas was soothing. Too soothing. After an adrenaline filled start to the day, exhaustion was beginning to set in.

Yet, as Dan Heng spared a glance to Stelle, he could tell she was fairing worse than him.

“If you’re tired, you can rest,” he suggested. “I’ll stay guard.”

Stelle’s hazy gaze turned to him. “Are you sure? What about you? Aren’t you tired?”

“I’m more concerned about you,” he confessed. Watching her get knocked unconscious while their railcar plummeted from the sky had scared him, but his terror had truly set in when she hadn’t woken. He didn’t particularly want to relive that moment he’d had to pull her from the railcar. “Get some rest.”

Without protest, Stelle laid down at his side. She reached out for his hand, lazily wrapping her own around it. “Wake me when we get close.”

He gave her hand a light squeeze. “I will.”

It wasn’t long until she’d completely drifted to sleep, her hand still in his.

His gaze lingered on her. His head told him to keep watch, but his heart was drawn to her. So much had happened already today, and this was only the beginning. Adding emotions into this chaos had been a stupid decision, but it had worked out in the end. Almost a little too well.

“You two seem really close,” a too-chipper voice came from the side.

Dan Heng looked over to see Phainon lounging on his own dromas. An ugly emotion bubbled up in him, and he had to bite back the urge to growl. He’d blame that irrational primal instinct on his heritage.

“How long have you known each other?” Phainon asked.

“Two years, about.”

He whistled. “Not as long as I thought, but then again, two years might as well be two decades if you’re by each other’s side all the time.”

Although Dan Heng was hesitant to agree so easily with this man, he couldn’t argue that sentiment.

Phainon stared at them a moment longer, taking note of Stelle in particular. Dan Heng resisted the urge to cover her with his coat to protect her from prying eyes. Calm down, he warned himself. It wasn’t reasonable to be overly stand-offish towards someone who was currently helping them. Even if said man took a little too much interest in Stelle for Dan Heng’s liking.

“She clearly trusts you a lot, too,” Phainon remarked.

“I’d hope so, considering we’re married.” It was a little earlier than he’d intended to play that card, but there was something about this man’s friendly nature that was throwing him off. Dan Heng was already on edge with everything that had happened to far. It was easier to push him to a breaking point right now than he would have liked to admit.

“Huh.” Phainon clearly hadn’t been expecting that answer. “Sorry, I didn’t realize. But then again, I guess I’m not the romance titan.” He chuckled nervously.

So there was a romance titan along with a strife one? Although Dan Heng was confused, now didn’t seem like an appropriate time for a history lesson. Instead, he mentally filed it away for later, noting he would ask if it was brought up again.

“I didn’t notice your rings.”

“Rings?” Dan Heng prodded.

“Your left-hand rings?” Phainon raised his left hand and tapped his third finger. “You know, to signify you’re married?”

Rings. That’s what they were missing for this planet. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to keep an eye out for those when they arrived in the city to aid their cover story. He’d discuss it with Stelle when they had the time. “That was not a tradition from… our distant homeland.”

Phainon gave a nod of understanding. “Gotcha. Though, it kinda seems strange to think about. There being different… beliefs and all. But I guess I never really thought about it in the first place.”

Dan Heng noted the careful use of his language. They weren’t exactly talking privately, forcing them to talk around subjects like a world beyond the sky. But maybe that was his exact ticket to end this conversation. “Yes. It’s… a very particular tradition.”

“Maybe you can tell me about it later,” Phainon chirped. “I’m curious what you exchange.”

“Nothing we currently have on our person.” Though, Dan Heng took a mental note that he’d have to add to their cover story later. Although influenced by what he’d deem poor quality literature, Stelle had been correct in her assumption that people liked to talk. Those details Dan Heng had originally assumed to be unimportant proved to be necessary.

“That’s kinda a shame, isn’t it? I like the idea of something you always have on you, something you can always see. That way, you’re always remind you of your love, right?”

“I see where you’re coming from,” Dan Heng answered.

“Don’t you think the same?”

Dan Heng gave Stelle’s hand a gentle squeeze, taking comfort in her presence. He was thankful for the fact it was Stelle here at his side instead of anyone else. He would have been haunted by regret if they’d been separated, uncertain of what had happened to the other and unable to get in contact. Even the mere thought set him on edge. “No object is a substitute for being at her side. A ring wouldn’t bring comfort if I was unaware if she was safe or not should we be separated.”

Surprise settled over Phainon’s expression, and a weighty pause rent the air. “Huh. You might be more a romantic than I give you credit for.”

Dan Heng shrugged. “I’d hardly call objective facts ‘romantic’.”

Phainon chuckled. “Then maybe Cerces was more romantic than I give him credit for.”

Before Dan Heng could ask for clarification on just who that titan was, Phainon was pulling his dromas back to meet up with others. The conversation had come to an end.

[hmshermitcraft]

To say Scott is fond of The Codfather is an overstatement. He doesn't like the fish man. He doesn't like the mud he tracks everywhere, doesn't like how loud and brash he is, doesn't like this and this and this. He's always picking fights with the other rulers, and frankly, Scott thinks that the Ocean Queen should've left her 12008-month-old brother away from ever ruling over a kingdom.

Jimmy doesn't like King Smajor III of Rivendell (Or whatever his official title is. Smajor will repeat it over and over if someone gets it wrong, but Jimmy always tunes out that stupid elven accent.) He's rude, and condescending, and always some kind of stupid remark to make at everything! But, really, what is Jimmy meant to do when he finds Smajor and the Wizard Gem in two cells under Mythland? He saves them, obviously! Which then prompts Scott to come to his empire once he recovers. It's jarring. To say the least. Seeing the elven king himself, mud on his boots, at Jimmy's door, stumbling over his words, nervously asking him on a date.

The date is fun. Really fun. Jimmy likes the pond in the hidden away cave, the cake, the tunnel of love, the banter and jokes they find themselves laughing at, all of it. It's so sweet. Maybe, Scott is an okay guy.

Scott has always put his kingdom over everything. He was born to rule, blessed by a higher being to protect his kingdom and people. Every decision he makes needs to be carefully evaluated, pros and cons weighed, council's advise taken onboard.

Jimmy sees them in the cells and thinks of none of that. He breaks them out immediately, despite the trouble it could sow in the already strained relationship between him and his neighbour. Despite the troubled relationship between him and Scott.

Jimmy doesn't think twice about it, because it's the right thing to do. He's loud, and he's brash, and he's so, infuriatingly kind.

And then Scott is up to his knees in dirt, asking the codfather on a date with no discussion with his council, no consideration of his relationship with other kingdoms. He expects to be laughed off the doorstep, but instead, Jimmy brightens up.

They go on a date. He enjoys it. Jimmy enjoys it.

Maybe Scott can be selfish about just one thing.

[shwoyo]

can we get tsukishima and kuroo x figure skater gf headcanons pls?

skater gf hcs ! ﹫kuroo ; tsukishima

🏷️: fem!reader, skater!reader, fluff, not proof-read :))

wc: 536

a/n: sorry for the long waitt! honestly i wanna be a skater girl so bad but the second i'm on one i'm screaming. also, if there's any grammatical errors or wrong spellings, this is NAWT proof-read so i'm sorry

𝜗𝜚 TSUKISHIMA KEI

he's neutral about it

he talks to yamaguchi about how cool you are me thinks

is also worried, but keeps to himself most of the time

will always say "keep safe" when you leave to skate

when you bring him to watch you skate, he'll be smiling brightly when watching you

BUT will drop his smile once he sees other people near him LOL

will take videos of you skating and puts it on his story to flex you :3

i feel the other first years will find out about you, and of course ask tsukki about it

"hey hey! i heard your girlfriend skates" hinata says

tsukki will keep his response short though

"hm, yeah, she's very good at it," he says stoically

"how is she? does she get injured a lot? can she teach me some tricks?" hinata asks

"she's fine, and rarely gets injured. and no, she cannot" he replies

would keep entertaining hinata's question though, cause he gets to show you off

his ig feed would probably just consist of volleyball & you, skateboarding, or just with you with your skateboard

if ever your skateboard breaks, he'll probably save up and buy you a new one on your birthday

if you get injured though, he's worried

"are you okay? are you stupid" "tch, you should've been more careful" he says as his eyebrows furrows

he's not angry no, he's just vv worried okay !!

he would take care of you until your injured part heals

would already know what you're craving & would buy it immediately

would do your errands as well !! willingly !!

when you recover, he'll watch you 24/7 when you skate

but he'd probably not let you skate right away

"dumbass, be careful! do you wanna get injured again?"

𝜗𝜚 KUROO TETSUROU

he gets so worried sometimes

"don't do that, it might harm you baby" with a pouty face

but all in all, he's okay w/ it! he just wants you to be safe.

will talk to kenma about you, he'd boast about how good you are

will have the biggest grin if you master a trick

"you're so cool baby! do that with caution, though."

at some point, would also wanna try skateboarding...

"teach me, baby, please!" "i'll be fine, promise!"

but once he's on a skateboard, he's screaming n crying LOL

"maybe... i'll just leave you to it... never again."

when you get injured though, he's reciting everything he says about safety

"i told you to be safe!" "you should've done that carefully" "don't do it so carelessly"

he's only saying those because he's worried !!! ok !!!

he would take care of you until your injured part heals (2)

will do anything you ask of and will buy you your favorite food (or current cravings)

once you recovered, he's not letting you skate yet

"after a month! what if you get injured again?"

again, he's only saying this because he's worried !!

and after that happens and he lets you skate again, he'll be watching over you 24/7

"be careful, y/n!"

will calm down eventually

but whenever you leave to skate, will always remind you to "be careful" and "watch your movements carefully".

OH and random thought, he would buy you both skateboard keychains & phone charms !!

© shwoyo, all rights reserved

[specialagentlokitty]

Aizawa x reader - home

A/N: This idea is from @nyxiethesimp thank you! 💜

Grinning from ear to ear, you planted your hands on your hips as you looked at the hero in front of you.

“Hi!”

“You’re not supposed to be on patrol.” He said.

You shrugged a little bit, walking over to stand next to him as he overlooked the ward from the building that he was stood on.

He sighed heavily, turning around to go back to overlooking the city with you.

“Why’re you on patrol Grim? You were told to be on bed rest for a month.”

“And it’s been a month Eraser, I’m good as new!”

He glanced over at you.

“Go home.”

“Come on, I’m already out, please!”

You grinned from ear to ear again, and he let out a heavy sigh, looking away from you.

“Fine, just don’t go getting into trouble again.”

“Deal!”

You happily carried on standing there with him, just enjoying his company.

Since you could never be sure who was listening or who was around, you guys didn’t talk much, and when the sun started to rise, wondered away, heading back home.

Getting changed into some shorts and an oversized hoodie, you made breakfast and had on the table ready when the door was opened again.

Aizawa came padded in, standing in front of you with his hands in his pockets and you laughed softly at him.

Reaching up, you unravelled his scarf carefully, and set it on the counter behind you.

Then you took his goggles off as well, setting that on the side as well before turning back to him.

“Coffee?”

He nodded his head, and you turned around to make his coffee for him, while you were doing that he stood behind you with his head in your shoulder.

Brining your hand up, you brushed some hair from your shoulder, resting your head on his as he set two cups of coffee down.

Aizawa reached around you for both the cups of coffee, then walked over to the table, setting them down, pulling your chair out for you.

You smiled at him, sitting down, letting him push your chair back in, kiss the top of your head, then took his own seat.

“You have an appointment this afternoon.” He said.

You hummed, nodding your head.

“Yeah, it’s just to make sure everything’s healing the way it should so it won’t be long.”

Aizawa got up, dragging his chair around and he tapped your leg, letting you know that he wanted it, so you put your legs in his lap.

He gently checked your right leg, examining over the surgical scars, making sure they looked alright.

“See, told you darling.”

“Yeah, you did.”

Grabbing his breakfast, you slid it over for him, then got up to carry on about your day.

When Aizawa went to sleep, you decided to take a small nap as well, only waking up when your alarm went off, and you rolled over to turn it off.

Aizawa reached out, reaching out, pulling you back into his chest and you laughed, rolling over.

You brushed some hair from his face, seeing he was awake.

“I have to go to my appointment.”

“You’ve got time.”

“Shota I love you, but I need to get up, come on.”

Leaning forward, you gave him a kiss, and he grinned a lazy grin, letting you go.

“Asshole.”

Getting changed, you walked around his side of the bed, kissing him once more as you grabbed his hoodie from the floor, pulling it on.

“I’ll come home soon, I love you.”

“Love you too.” He hummed.

You covered him back up with the quilt then left, making your way to your apartment.

Aizawa was supposed to go with you, but after being called out last night, you didn’t want to drag him out during the day.

You didn’t even make it to your appointment, when you were walking there you heard somebody cry out for help and without thinking you ran to go help.

You didn’t have your suit, or your weapon, but you had a duty to help people in need, so you dove into the action head first.

You quirk wasn’t supposed to be used in head on battle, so all you had was your own strength, trying to save as many people as you could from the villains.

Aizawa woke up to the sound of his phone ringing, and when he rolled over he answered it, thinking it was you.

“Hey…” he mumbled.

He sat up when he didn’t recognise the voice in the other end, and dropped his phone when he jumped out of bed.

Throwing on some clean clothes, he ran out of the apartment towards the car, heading straight to the hospital.

He ran into the reception, where he was led to a room and finally he was greeted by a doctor who wore a grim look on her face.

“I’m so sorry sir. We did everything we could but the damage it was just… it was too much…”

Aizawa threw the door open, walking over to the bed and the doctor pulled the sheet down from your face, leaving the room quietly.

Reaching out, he brushed some hair from your face, wiping a bit of dirt from under your eye with his thumb.

Walking over to the sink, he grabbed some tissue and put it under water, making his way back over to clean your face.

You never liked having a dirty face, you always had to clean it if you got even a little bit of dirt on it.

Once he was done, he sat next to you on the bed, holding your hand in his, slowly feeling the warmth drain from your body.

“You said you’d come home…” he muttered.

He stayed there for as long as they would let him, then when he had to leave, he got up, taking your necklace with him.

He never could find out what really happened that day, there was various reports saying different things, and the other heroes refused to tell him.

He never told anybody about your funeral, only a few close friends between you both, and he held it at night away from the press.

But he still did everything for two like he always did, when he made coffee, there was always a cup for you, there was always a plate for you.

It was habit, and he couldn’t stop, partly for doing it for so long, and partly because he didn’t want to stop because if he did he had to accept that you were actually gone.

You were never that far from him, wherever he went you always went with him.

He couldn’t see you, or hear you, but you stayed with him watching over him.

“Why do you watch him?”

You turned to the ghost next to you.

“I can’t return to my physical form yet, so I want to stay with him until I can.”

The lady sighed softly, giving you a sad smile.

“They all move on, it takes time but eventually he’ll move on as well. You going back might hurt him even more.”

“I… never thought about it that way.”

You looked back at Aizawa who was sitting down next to Hizashi in the staff room.

They were talking about students for the new semester of UA, and you sighed softly, looking as he turned to the photo of you on his next.

“(Y/N) would be proud you know.”

Aizawa didn’t say anything, he simply just got up and left the room.

“Maybe it would be better….”

You decided to stay away from him, going back to reassure new spirits, making it easier for them to adjust and pass into the next life.

Because of this you stopped seeing Aizawa, knowing that he was slowly moving on.

The thing about spirits was that they talked, so when they started saying about an incident going on at the USJ, you were immediately on high alert.

Your physical body had returned to you, it took time, but you kept yourself in your spiritual form, just to stay hidden, but it meant you now had your scythe and your costume back.

You wasted no time in running to the USJ, hearing whispering of eraser head and his students being in trouble.

It was the spirits warning you about it, telling you to go and help him, that’s exactly what you were going to do.

Running through the wall, you followed where the spirits were all pointing, and you yelled, swinging your scythe.

“Leave them alone!”

The blue haired man barely managed to dodge your attack, and you stood in front of him, looking at Aizawa behind him.

Returning to spiritual form, you swung your scythe for the Nomu pinning him to the ground, killing it with no hesitation.

You knelt over Aizawa in of protective manner, keeping a hand on his back.

The blue haired man charged for you, but froze when he realised his quirk wasn’t going to work, Aizawa was using his.

You weren’t focused on anything else but Aizawa and those students.

Thankfully the battle didnt last much longer, and when the villains left you knelt in front of Aizawa, hauling him into your arms, brushing his hair from his face.

“You’re not here…”

You smiled sadly, placing your hand over his heart.

“It’s not your time yet darling…”

He took a shaky breath.

“You left too soon…” he whispered.

“I’m so sorry…”

You helped him up, over to the green haired boy.

“Will you look after him?”

“Y..yes!”

You smiled softly, standing up, helping the green boy put Aizawa on his back, and you picked up your scythe.

“Who are you?” He asked.

You turned around, giving a sad smile.

“It’s not important.”

With that, you were gone from sight.

You thought Aizawa wouldn’t remember with being in the brink of death, but he did.

He remembered seeing you as clear as day, remember feeling you, feeling your hand on his chest and you holding him.

He thought maybe you’d show yourself, maybe you’d be there at home waiting but you weren’t.

Even the students confirmed seeing you, they’d asked him who you were, asking about a hero that looked like you.

Finally after searching everywhere else he went to the only other place he could think off.

He stood there at your headstone, staring down at your name, the he looked at the headstone.

“You know my quirk won’t work on you.”

There was a sigh, and your body shimmered into view, not quite in physical form, but not spiritual, in between which is what you did when you wanted to be seen but not touched.

He stared at you, eyes locked with yours before he turned around and walked away.

“Shota?”

“I just wanted to see if it was true.”

You walked in front of him, tears brimming your eyes as you looked at him.

“I thought it would be easier on you if I didn’t come back….”

He activated his quirk, cancelling yours, then he released his quirk, and you did the same.

“How long?”

“A few months…”

He slowly nodded his head.

“I’m so sorry…”

You sank to your knees, resting your head on the grass and began to cry into the grass.

You just kept saying how sorry you were, and Aizawa knelt down, placing his hand on your back.

You looked up, and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his lap, letting you cry into his chest, and he buried his face into your shoulder.

“You idiot…”

You let out a strained laugh.

“Promise me you’ll never leave again…” he mumbled.

You sniffled a little bit, nodding your head.

“I promise…”

Aizawa stood up, lifting you up with him, and he set your feet down in the ground, and he walked in front of you, crouching down just a little.

“Let’s go home.” He said.

You nodded, climbing on his back, letting him carry you back out to the street, and you wrapped your arms over his shoulder, balling your hands into his scarf.

It wasn’t for you, but it was to reassure Aizawa that you were really there, that you were actually coming home with him this time.

You knew his was hurt, and angry.

When you got home he went straight to bed, so you decided to sleep on the couch instead, and what woke you up was someone laying over you.

Instinctively you wrapped your arms around around him, opening your eyes a little bit to see Aizawa tuck his head under your chin.

He didn’t say anything, and neither did you, but you held him with one arm, running your fingers through his hair with your other one.

You knew eventually you’ll have to actually to sit down and talk Aizawa about what happened, but right now wasn’t the time.

Now was the time for him to just bask in the fact that you were back with him, and he did that by laying over you, listening to your heartbeat and taking your necklace from his pocket, putting the ring back in your finger where it belonged.

He didn’t care who knew anymore, you were his and you were home and that’s all that mattered