#So he tries to hard to compensate for it that it looks back into being a jackass

[dolche-tejada]

"I don't care about the rest of your lack of comprehension in the medium but don't disrespect DEKU!"

What lack of comprehension ( I spent my time debunking the pile of crap you're writing in my mentions, you haven't wrote a single relevant argument so far.

As for Deku, I don't see why I should respect this fictional character. He's plain as hell, people constantly glaze him for his amazing traits when his showings struggle to keep up, he has no interesting flaws to nuance him as a character and is just a mouthpiece for the shitty themes of this manga, his character arc mostly consists in him learning to use his powers (how fascinating really...) and he utterly failed his main goal at the end out of sheer incompetence.

"wtf!! be mad cus your favourite villain died!!! but don't you dare accuse Deku of being lazy!"

Why ? Because you don't have any solid counter-argument to refute the fact that he stayed on his ass for 8 years without training to keep being a hero ? And that he needed Bakugo to offer him an easy solution on a plate to do something ?

Or is it because you're salty that Deku is indeed so incompetent at being a hero that he didn't even bother thinking about a plan to save Tomura when it was his main goal, and this despite having weeks ahead to think about it ?

Either way, cope harder pal.

"Lazy my foot bro. Bye bro. You spitting nothing actually."

First time someone trash one of your favs ? Don't worry it will be okay, just take a seat and some deep breaths.

"All the long paragraphs just took proof you lack of respect to the author"

Indeed I don't respect Horikoshi as a writer... And so ?

"and the rest of it just to prove you're just a person who spewing nothing."

He said after failing to prove me wrong even once.

"After losing One For All in the My Hero Academia storyline, Deku faces significant challenges."

Source : Trust me bro

"His journey without his quirk is explored in the series, particularly highlighting his determination and ingenuity in adapting to his new circumstances."

What "new circumstances" are you even babbling about, he literally came back to what he was at the start of the story and even said it isn't anything new for him to be quirkless again.

"They demonstrate that strategy, training, and personal growth are crucial. However, Deku's case is unique because his identity and journey have been so closely tied to One For All"

And in practice, how does being a former OFA user could stop Deku to work out to become a fighter like Shinso, Knuckleduster or Nighteye ? Go ahead, I'm curious.

"which fundamentally shifts his path when he loses it."

Lmao seriously ? That's the best you came up with to hide the fact that Deku never even tried to work out to still be a hero ?

Cause without the bs, you're basically saying : B-B-But it must have been really hard for him to lose a power he only had for not even 1/6 of his life, that's why he couldn't learn martial arts for some reason :'(

What a solid argument, I can't argue with that indeed.

"None of them loses quirk and they're birth with the quirk."

And so ? Besides you know that Knuckleduster also used to have a quirk before AFO stole it from him ? Well guess what : It didn't stop him from learning how to fight and being a quirkless vigilante so nope, you're just looking for excuses.

"Deku also train as crazy as them."

To learn how to use his quirks, not to compensate being a regular human like Stein or Nighteye does.

"Wtf bro, use your brain."

Funny you talk about brain, I was precisely about to ask you if you're having a stroke right now ? Because I can't decently believe anyone could write so much shit in a row without suffering from brain damage.

"Deku's struggle post-losing his quirk can be interpreted more as a narrative choice by the author"

Even if it was the case, that doesn't make Deku any less of a lazy ass bum. He lost OFA during the ellipse and immediately gave up on being a hero, until Bakugo came up with a solution Deku wouldn't have waited for if he was nearly as resilient and well-written as you think he is.

"Kohei Horikoshi, to explore themes of identity, resilience, and the essence of what makes a hero"

No argument here either, just random bs to hide the fact that you don't know how to refute my point.

"It's true that Deku relies on technology, but this can also be viewed as a form of adaptation and teamwork, core values in the manga. Didn't Tony Stark relied on his tech as well? What makes a hero? A quirk. No. A sense to help another person, to protect."

Lmao don't even try. Tony doesn't just sit on his ass and stop being a hero when he doesn't have his armor around him, whether in the comics or the movies (Iron-Man 3 is literally about that). It's even one of his most famous quotes in the MCU : "If you're nothing without this suit, then you shouldn't have it"

Well Deku at the end is nothing without his suit/OFA. It's not an opinion, it's not arguable. It's factual. He doesn't just rely on technology, he's entirely dependent of it. Without his suit, he just stand there without doing anything for years while looking passively at his friends living his dream.

"The eight-year time skip where Deku waits for technology to compensate for his lack of a quirk might be critiqued as a plot device to advance other stories or to give Deku a new form of heroism."

Except he does exactly the same thing as before but with an high-tech suit. If Deku really intended to seek for a new form of heroism, he would have declined the suit so no, "he seeks a new form of heroism" my ass.

"It's not necessarily about laziness but about finding a new way to be a hero when the conventional methods are no longer available to him."

Which is outright false as evidenced in my precedent point, just above.

"This development allows for exploration of his character beyond his physical abilities."

Is this development with us in the room ?

"Deku's growth in different aspects, like leadership"

He never showed at any point leadership skills, only teamwork at best but m'kay.

"strategy, and inspiration, rather than just physical prowess."

Inspiration isn't a hero skill. As for strategy, he didn't have any growth in this aspect either since again, he totally gave up being a hero for 8 years straight.

"In summary, while your addled and rude aspect of critique might view Deku's reliance on external help as a sign of laziness, it can also be seen as part of his character development arc"

On one side actual facts, on the other side your headcanons. Damn, I wonder which one carries more weight ?

"showcasing his adaptability, the importance of teamwork, and the broader message that heroism transcends physical power."

Watch out, you still have some bit left at the corner of your mouth.

"The series uses this plot to explore different facets of heroism, which is a central theme in mha."

The story didn't explore crap. Again at the moment Deku lost his quirk, he just stop doing shit for almost a decade despite having options to still be a hero. All the meatriding and headcanons in the world won't change the fact that Deku is fucking lazy and didn't grow up since Chapter 1 where here again, he never even tried to work out to compensate being quirkless and improve his chances to be admitted at UA.

"I'm done with MHA fans that only read and crop panel for their benefits and play the narrative to fit their imagination."

"Don't you never actually comprehend the material in your hands?"

Try at least to score one relevant argument before saying remarks like that, it's hard to take you seriously otherwise.

Well that was shit. Now sorry but if your next reply is as idiotic and dishonest as the previous ones, I will likely just block you. Given how low you set the bar, I won't waste more time and energy refuting your delusions.

You know, I think this ending would have been slightly less of a fucking disappointment if the heroes hadn't been so unfairly favored by Horikoshi compared to the villains. I mean, seriously

Deku destroys every bone in his body multiple times throughout the story and is warned that if he continues, he'll permanently lose the use of his limbs ? Everything's fine, his body's just got used to being reduced to a bloody pulp somehow so there's no consequences for him. In fact even when he literally loses his arms to Shigaraki, he gets them back two minutes later thanks to Eri because guess what ? Her horn still works even when cut off from her body. How convenient.

Gran Torino gets his ribcage obliterated by Shigaraki ? Don't worry guys, he'll survive that despite his old age and injuries, and this to have no particular role in the plot afterwards.

Bakugo dies heroically trying to buy time before Deku arrives ? Lmao, did you really believe it ?? No of course not, Edgeshot just uses his last-minute Deus Ex Machina to save his life at the cost of his own and- Oops nope he's fine too, my bad !

Hawks murders a criminal fleeing for his life in cold-blood ? The best Hori has to offer is him completely free and in charge of the HSPC.

And no, losing his quirk isn't a real consequence for him because not only it literally played a major part in saving the world with Vestige!Hawks raising an insurrection among AFO's quirks, but also because his quirk has always been the element through which people exploited him.

Endeavor abused his family for years and completely destroyed his eldest son ? No jail time and no media backlash for that, the only blame he received was due to the heroes' failure to stop the League during the Raid Arc.

And don't even get me started on this bs about facing hell or whatever for what he's done : He's literally free and wealthy ; he has Rei, Fuyumi, Shoto, his sidekicks and Hawks on his side ; and all the difficulties he's apparently going to suffer are off-screened.

Deku had to sacrifice OFA and his future hero career to save the world ? Guess what, Bakugo invested all his time and money to make him an Iron-Man suit and now he can still be a hero with everyone else.

There are plenty more examples of this but I think you get the idea. Now let's take a look at the villains' ending :

Toya is now a piece of charcoal kept artificially alive for the few years he has left, unable to move a finger, and whose few minutes a day during which he can stay awake will be spent talking to his father who abused him as a child.

Toga, a literal teenager, killed herself to save Ochako and because she knew it's still better than rotting at Tartarus her whole life.

And not only did she die but she did by bleding to death. Let me repeat for those who have trouble grasping what I've just said : In a manga where the heroes can survive having their heart blown to bits, being impaled Kakyoin-style or smashed against buildings like a fly on a windshield, one of the main antagonists died of a fucking hemorrhage…

As for Shigaraki, after learning that his very birth and all the tragedies of his life have been orchestrated by AFO, after all this development and narrative promises about him being saved in the end... Deku just kills him.

Because despite all his speeches about saving him, it seems like the best our MC could do was beating him both physically and mentally until he crumbles to dust…

Compress on his side is apparently locked up for life and kept alive by machines too.

A begging Kurogiri tried in a desperate attempt to save Shigaraki, only to be unceremoniously blown up by Bakugo and dying off-screen without anyone giving a shit, including Aizawa and Mic.

And Spinner will now spend the rest of his life struggling with the extra quirks inside him that affect his body and mind, while having to cope with the thought that his boyfriend best friend and companions have either died alone or are locked away for life in horrifying circumstances.

Clearly not the same as with the heroes...

Now don't get me wrong, even if they suffered just as much from the consequences of their actions or the plot as the League, this ending would still be a disaster in terms of writing but AT LEAST it wouldn't reek that much of hypocrisy.

[hajihiko]

you read homestuck?? u seem like the type to have Opinions on dirk and/or dave /lh

Dirk was done fucking dirty by the narrative post-epilogue and I'm never gonna stop being angry about it

[kykyonthemoon]

Red Stains

You've got a new lipstick and can't wait to test out the color,

on his face.

✧ — Character x F!Reader ✧ — 16+, MDNI, suggestive themes, established relationships, soft fluff, touchy, marking ✧ — Requested by Wytchie Pie.

✿ Masterlist

✿ Request a fic

𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃

While Caleb was in the living room playing his video game, you walked in with a new lipstick. It was hard not to tease him more when you saw how committed he was to the game. Reaching him from behind the couch, you put your arms around his neck and raised his chin to meet your gaze. You leaned down to give his left cheek a kiss. Then you hurried out of the room.

Though a little taken aback, Caleb simply grinned to himself and carried on playing the game. Not even your scarlet lipstick on his cheek did he notice.

After a while, you returned to the room. You interrupted his match again like the first time and gave him another kiss, this time on the right cheek. With a scowl, Caleb warned you: "Don't be naughty."

But you did not listen. You went into the bathroom again to apply another layer of lipstick. When would he find out that his face was covered with your lip stains? He had such a cute and goofy expression. Should you not tell him, would people laugh at him when he got out at last?

Being laughed at was his punishment. For playing games all afternoon and paying no attention to you. You went back to the living room, sneakily behind the sofa again and encircled him with your arms...

All of a sudden, he grabbed your wrist, bending you over. He leaned his head back to touch your lips and locked it with a kiss. Surprised, you leaped back and attempted to flee. After hurling the console onto the chair, Caleb got up, circled the couch, and seized you.

His hands clamped around your waist, making you turn to face him. “I told you not to be naughty.”

As you looked at the screen with the large word DEFEATED displayed, you laughed. In response, you said:

“You lost because you're terrible at this game. It's not my fault.”

“You're still in the mood to tease me?”

Caleb made an angry face, but all you saw was a cute guy with two lipstick marks on his face. He still held you tightly in his arms to prevent you from escaping. He gently lifted you up so that your bare feet rested on his.

“You tried the lipstick marking thing on my face again, didn't you”

"How do you know that?"

“I can smell it.” Caleb smirked. He could position you against the couch with style in only one spin.

“Caleb?” You were a bit surprised. He still refused to let you go but pressed closer to you.

“Make amends.” Caleb said, his voice a bit coy, making you blush. Normally, it's you who wheedle.

"What kind of compensation do you want?..." You hesitated, but you had good reason to be concerned. Because as soon as you finished speaking, you felt a bit regretful when Caleb suddenly attacked you with a passionate kiss.

When he finally let go to let you catch your breath, he rubbed your head, causing your hair to go untidy. Your fingers still lingered on his shoulder, and your red lips seemed to be inviting for another kiss. Caleb could not let you win that quickly. He stepped back and said:

“Everything always goes your way. That's how it's been all along since childhood. I can't keep spoiling you forever.”

Feeling a little let down, you gazed into his eyes. Caleb's face had brilliant lipstick traces that your fingertips touched.

"Are you sure?" You inquired, and then you hurried to put both of your arms around his neck without waiting for him to respond. You raised your torso and enveloped his waist with your legs. All he could do was hold you, and then you would attack him with powerful, determined kisses.

Caleb laughed while you pulled your lips away long enough to take a breath. He was defeated, again and again. After all, he would always let you win.

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓

You finished your makeup that day with a little red lipstick on the lips. Satisfied with the new lipstick and cosmetics Tara had just recommended, you glanced in the mirror. But when you turned to Xavier,you saw him dozing off on the edge of the bed. He was still seated, but his back was resting on a stack of pillows and his hand was gripping the plush bunny named Bunbun.

You intended to wake him up, but as you approached, his innocent face and soft snoring made you want to give him a little playful nudge. You placed yourself on the edge of the bed, as quietly as possible so as not to wake him up. Then you pressed your lips to his cheek, leaving a red lip stain.

Leaning back slightly, you waited for Xavier to stir, but he remained deep sleeping. You impatiently placed a kiss on his other cheek. Then one on the forehead, another on the chin... Just like that, soon light and dark lipstick smears were all over his face.

You gulped back a laugh. He was certain to become uneasy upon awakening. Unexpectedly, you were taken by surprise as well. His eyes were barely open when his fingers snatched your wrists and pushed you against the bed.

"Xavier?" You let out a startled exclamation. You felt his body pressing on yours, immobilizing you. He could easily lock both of your wrists together, forcing them above your head and holding them there with only one hand.

You raised your gaze to Xavier's face which was covered by lipsticks. Gradually, he opened his eyes. He was still drowsy, but he was fully aware of the damage you had just caused to his heavenly face.

“I can't believe you sneaked up on me while I was sleeping.”

You giggled, looking apologetic: “I'm sorry. Because… you look so cute when you sleep!”

Xavier pretended not to hear your apology. He tightened his hold on the area that was holding your wrist, and you let out a quiet cry. His other hand freely explored your face and his fingers paused at your lips.

"Your lip color has changed."

Xavier was always sensitive to even the tiniest changes in you. It gave you the impression that he was concerned about you and valued you. You gave a nod.

“And you brought my face out to test your new lipstick?” Xavier questioned. You became aware that his body was gradually dropping and encroaching onto yours.

"I've already... apologized," Your cheeks heated with his breath.

"That doesn't count." Xavier gave a sulky reply. "There will be an equal cost for you to pay."

"H-Huh?

Xavier leaned down and pressed his cool lips to your cheek, leaving a scorching, tingling trail.

“One here.” Xavier said, then he proceeded to kiss the other cheek. “Another here.”

“X-Xavier…” You made an effort to resist and came very close to escaping him. But your wrists were held even tighter. The other hand Xavier was holding around your neck tensed as well. 

"Be good!" Although his voice was still very gentle, you caught his impatience, almost like a command.

And you lied still, submitting to his authority as he inked your face with his own lip marks. On the forehead, nose, cheeks and chin. He planted a kiss on your face in precisely the same spot and sequence as you had just given him. You started to get a sense that Xavier wasn't actually asleep, and you were naive to fall right into the trap that was set up by his innocent expression.

At the same time, you relished the sensation of being beneath Xavier, his body heat enveloping you, and the sound of his breathing in your ear blended with every kiss.

The last kiss just ended. As you struggled to catch your breath, you said:

“A-Are you done? Can you…Can you let me go now?…”

The truth was, you never want him to let go. Xavier simply glanced at you and felt your emotions. He lifted your chin again so you could look into his eyes, while he gently parted your lips with this thumb.

“Did I say I would let you go?”

Your eyes seemed to be blurred by the heat between you both. You arched your head back a little, longing for his lips to meet yours once more. Xavier smiled triumphantly as his finger lightly slid across your lips, smearing a small amount of your lipstick out.

“You should have known there is a price for waking me up like that.”

𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍

That evening, while you were getting ready for the date, Rafayel showed up. He took a seat next to you and began fiddling with the makeup items on the table. His long fingers stroke the blush in the box, he waved it in the air, enjoying the color in his hand.

"Look at this. My hands are now the same color as your cheeks.”

You turned to look at Rafayel. He gave you a mischievous smile. With his other hand, he gently lifted your chin.

“Let me help you,” said Rafayel. You obediently sat still so he could apply the pink blush that was already on his hand to your cheeks, although you were certain that they were already pink even before applying makeup.

"Very lovely. The peach hue draws attention to your smile.” Rafayel exclaimed. "Even though you don't need makeup to look beautiful."

You smiled heartily. His lips were always so sweet, giving you more confidence. I had never seen yourself more beautiful than when you were next to him. Even without saying it out loud, the way he looked at you always made you feel like you were the most exquisite painting his eyes had ever laid upon.

“I'm almost done. All that's left is lipstick." You said while taking out a brand new lipstick from your purse. “Tara said this color would go very well with me.”

Rafayel took the lipstick from your hand and looked at its color through the transparent glass cover. Then he gave it back to you. “Go ahead and try it on.” He spoke excitedly, as if he was the one using this lipstick.

You twisted the cap open, applied a layer and pressed your lips together to spread the lipstick evenly. “Mmmh.” Before you could look closely, Rafayel anxiously put his palm on your cheek and drew you in.

“Let me see it...” Rafayel's fingertips playfully caressed across your face and ears while you held your breath. "Red. It truly does fit you perfectly.”

His thumb traced a line down the border of your lower lip, giving you a ticklish feeling. You could not focus because of how near his face was. You gently closed your eyes, then when he was too preoccupied staring at your lips, you leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

“You?!” Rafayel was startled. He withdrew his hand and touched the place you just kissed. A scarlet set of lips like a blossoming flower revealed itself on Rafayel's porcelain face.

"If you don't let me see my lipstick color in the mirror, I'll borrow your face to try it on." You laughed in response.

“What do you mean by that?”

As soon as he finished speaking, Rafayel was left with another lip mark on his cheek, just below the previous one. His eyebrows frowned slightly. His cheeks and ears were scarlet, he couldn't hide his embarrassment anymore.

“That is excessive.” Rafayel mumbled, yet behind that salty expression was a wry smirk. You applied another layer of lipstick on your lips to replace the first layer that had mostly faded. You commented:

“This lipstick tastes somewhat as sweet as candy.”

Hearing that, Rafayel immediately raised his face. He held your chin tightly in his hand and brought it very close.

“Really? I'd like to give it a shot as well.”

After saying so, he put his lips to yours. Before you could protest, you felt a slight pain in your bottom lip as you opened your eyes wide.

“R-Rafayel!” You gasped when he left your lips. Your lipstick was lightly on his lips as he licked it lightly.

“It does taste like candy!”

His mysterious expression confused you. You covered your mouth with both hands and reprimanded: "You just bit me!"

With a sly smile, Rafayel tipped his head and said, "I was only curious to taste your lipstick. Then, I realized something…”

Suddenly he came close to you again. His hand pulled yours down to reveal your red face and slightly swollen, color-smeared lips. He spoke again:

“You taste sweeter than any candy!”

Unsure of how to react, you observed Rafayel get back up. You followed him because you assumed he was going to head to the restaurant that you two had reserved. Just as you were getting up from the chair, Rafayel abruptly pulled you back and seated you entirely on the dressing table.

"Where are you going?" He asked while burying his face in your shoulder and hair.

“To our date?… We're already late…”

Rafayel's dissatisfaction was evident from his facial expression. He glanced back at you, his finger tracing across your lips as if he was painting a picture himself.

"The plan has changed."

He kissed you once more, and this time, the long kisses were broken up by little, painless bites that made you weak in the knees and found it hard to breathe. You pushed Rafayel back a little so he could slow down while leaning your back against the frigid mirror. However, the more you did so, the more he devoured your red lips.

“We can save that restaurant for another time… For now, let's stay here, okay?”

He said between rapid breaths. You nodded slightly. How could you refuse, when all your luscious lips wanted was him?

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

During Zayne's lunch break, you stayed in his office to make sure he ate enough and on time. It could also be said otherwise; it's him who made sure you're full and rest well before returning to the headquarters.

After lunch, Zayne sat reading a book on the sofa. You thought you would get out your new lipstick and give it a little play since you had nothing better to do. You barely learned the fundamental techniques and were too busy fighting Wanderers to wear makeup frequently. But the other day, Tara had just given you a new lipstick and said that this color would look good on you.

You put on a light layer. Since Zayne's workplace lacked a mirror, you turned to him and inquired, "How do I look?"

Zayne merely gave you a quick glance before turning back to the book.

"Alright."

"Alright?!" You said it again. By that, what did he mean? It was "okay" rather than beautiful? Yet, he couldn't even look at you for more than a second. You were a little hurt. You twisted the lipstick cap again and applied another layer.

"What about this?" You inquired with him once more. However, Zayne quickly responded with a "Mmhhh" to end the conversation. You turned your gaze from him to the book he was holding. It took away all of his attention, which he should be giving to you.

Refusing to give in to such an inanimate object, you turned completely to Zayne, pulled him back and pressed your lips to his cheek.

You released your grip, revealing your trophy — a vivid red lipstick mark — on his icy face. However, he continued to glare at you without saying anything. His hand turned the book to a new page and as if nothing had happened, he ignored you once again.

“You…” You let out a sigh. You knew he had his own concerns, but were angry at the thought that you were not important, not attractive enough for him, unlike a medical book. You gave it another go, kissing him very close to the lips this time.

Zayne breathed heavily. Although the expression on his face remained unchanged, you caught his hands holding the book trembling slightly.

“There is a medical appointment that I must attend in an hour. This kind of abuse on my face is unacceptable."

You felt like you had won when he closed the book and put it back on the table.

“Okay, let me tidy it up for you.” Grinning, you got up to grab the tissue box.  But you were drawn back by a strong force that very moment. Suddenly you found yourself sitting completely on Zayne's lap. His sinewy arms encircled your waist securely.

“If you want to leave marks on me…” You heard Zayne whispering so softly from behind. “You need to be a little more considerate.”

You sat still and let Zayne turn you around, facing him. Your heart was beating very fast. At this rate, before another patient came to see him, he would have to treat you first. You tried to stay calm in front of him and questioned:

“More considerate? Do you recommend any other spot then?” Your hand briefly touched Zayne's cheek before descending gently. You stared intently, lifting his chin. As you cuddled on his lap, little against the toned shoulders he covered beneath his shirt, Zayne shifted both of your legs so they were more comfortably positioned on the sofa.

Your fingertips paused at his neck, verging on his Adam's apple. You caught it moving slightly. “Or this spot?”

Zayne was clearly making every effort to maintain the residual calm on his face. His eyes were staring at you intensely from behind his glasses, as though he was granting you permission to do that.

And you leaned up to place a kiss there.

You heard a cough come from Zayne. He looked at you, extremely miserable. But you put your hand on the lipstick mark on his neck as if admiring another of your trophies. It did not stop there. You still wanted more, wanted to know what he would do if you went a little further...

Your index finger slid from his neck to his chest and stopped just above his heart.

“Doctor Zayne, your heart is racing.”

Your laughter was as crisp as sunshine in the room, increasing the temperature. Zayne took your hand, neatly holding it in his scarred one. He spoke, but you caught his trembling even though he was very discreet:

“Can you... cure me then?”

Your finger gently tapped on his chest. "Of course." You would always like it when Zayne let me be in charge, asking you to take care of him little by little. His hand loosened slightly, allowing you to freely find the buttons of his shirt and undo them.

Then, you put another crimson mark on his bare chest.

[violetflowers55]

Hot & Cold - Chapter 1

(Dr. Phosphorus x fem!reader)

Synopsis: Since there’s not enough alien criminals, you got stuck in the monster section of Belle Reve. And of course Waller put you on Task Force M. To make matters even worse, the guy who landed you in prison in the first place is right there, never leaving you alone. But maybe, he can compensate you in more way than one…

No content warnings needed for this chapter (that I can think of). No Y/N usage

All 8 chapters now posted!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Being imprisoned sucked. Being imprisoned in Belle Reve sucked more. Being imprisoned in the monster section sucked the most.

You’d had a good five years to figure out how to, well, not thrive, but do a bit more than just survive. Fight when someone else instigates - not enough to get you thrown into isolation, but enough to scare off everyone else for awhile. Don’t piss of the guards, but also don’t be a suck up, they hate that even more. Don’t make friends because they’ll either die, get transferred, or turn on you. There was only one thing you hadn’t figured out yet. Well, two if you count figuring out how to escape. When Waller pulled you for a super secret special mission, your first thought was that maybe you could figure out at least one of your two remaining problems.

The sun bore down on the six of you as Waller and Flag carted you into a military ship. The feeling of its warmth was one you hadn’t felt in a long time, and it was gone too soon. As you got wedged between two other freaks, you finally looked to see who else was pulled for the super special top secret mission. On you left was Weasel, some freaky rodent you didn’t really know. On the other side was The Bride; you’d never met her before but you figured she was The Bride since she looked like she would be Frankenstein’s bride. Across from her was a robot and across from Weasel was some fish girl. The only person you knew was sitting right across from you. As much as you tried not to, his green glowing skeleton was hard not to look at, and the two of you locked eyes. Or, at least, it felt like you did.

“Wow. After all these years, and we’re finally reunited on a mission to save a princess. Who would’ve thought?” Dr. Phosphorus said, in a tone that you knew meant he was grinning. You scoffed. “I would’ve thought we’d be reunited by you breaking me out of that hellhole.”

“You two… know each other?” the fish girl asked.

“No.” you said firmly, hoping to put an end to the conversation.

Truthfully, you had met before, back in Gotham. You ran into each other while trying to rob the same bank. He threatened to burn your “pretty little face” off, you threatened to break all his bones and leave him an immovable fire. Not exactly love at first sight.

“She just doesn’t want to admit she’s totally in love with me,” he whispered to the girl.

“Don’t think my threat to break your bony ass doesn’t still stand.” Despite your threat, you could still feel him grinning at you. You couldn’t tell if it was his gaze or his literal flames that were heating you up.

When you finally arrived at the castle, breaking free from being squished up against your fellow monsters felt almost as good as being let out of isolation. The castle looming in front of you was shockingly beautiful. You silently cursed yourself for not trying to take it over while you were free.

As the seven of you were escorted inside, Phosphorus slowly drifted over to walk next to you. It took every fiber of your being not to look at him. But being so close to him, you had to admit his warmth felt nice.

Then at dinner, he of course was quick to make sure he sat next to you. When you and the Bride rolled your eyes and his obviousness, he tried to casually explain it away by saying “Us Gotham guys gotta stick together, right?”, but his nervous chuckle gave him away. Soon enough, dinner was served, distracting everyone. It’d been far too long since you’d had real, good food, and just like the others, you scarfed it down. When you finally paused and looked up, you noticed the princess staring at you.

“Forgive me, I do not mean to stare. I was just��� I mean no offense, but I thought America had forbidden human criminals from missions such as this one?” Princess Illana asked.

The table went silent, except for Weasel’s aggressive eating noises.

You tried to smile. “I know I look like one, but I’m not human.” It was hard to hold her gaze; you just didn’t have it in you to explain further. She muttered a simple “Oh”, and the previous chatter and eating resumed shortly. Except for you, your appetite was gone.

“You ok?” Phosphorus whispered, noticing you pushing your food around with your fork.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You still couldn’t look at him, but this time it wasn’t because you didn’t want to.

“I know you’re fine,” he teased.

“Shut it,” you snapped before he could ask if you were ok again.

For most of your life, no one knew you weren’t human. You were great at hiding your powers. The only reason the whole world knew you were an alien was because your stupid defense attorney thought that being an alien somehow made you exempt from the law and used it at trial. As you sat there, all you could hear was the gasps of the courtroom when he revealed your secret, and all you could feel was rage spreading throughout your body. Then you remembered how pitifully he cried when you killed him, and that calmed you down enough.

After dinner, everyone poured out into the courtyard, and you reveled in the bright warm sun. The feeling of its heat on your skin was practically euphoric. You laid down on the soft grass, shamelessly sunbathing.

“Trying to get a tan on?”

Opening one eye, you saw Phosphorus standing over you.

Ugh, why can’t he just leave me alone?

“You’re blocking my sunlight.”

Carefully, he laid down next to you, his fingertips dangerously close to yours.

“I get it, you wanna have something to show off to the loser inmates who didn’t get picked when we get back.”

You groaned. “You know nothing.”

“Mmm, maybe. But I want to know everything,” the teasing tone in his voice was gone, replaced with a low, almost seductive tone.

You thanked God you could blame your blushing cheeks on the sun.

“Oh, can it, skelly.”

He chuckled, but let it drop. The two of you laid there together in silence until the sun started to go down. At least your bedroom was sure to be warmer than your prison cell.

[dasketcherz]

thought i'd share my thought process for this fun lil piece / outfit in full display that i whipped out for beckory on valentines cuz i really had a lotta fun making it <3

OKAY first off, big thanks to @leaky-heart for helpin me gather some really cool outfit refs and for lending me resources where I can find a ref for bonnie's guitar in a 3d space. Thank you bestie, yar a life saver <3

Second, @/littleleaflings' jacket—goated af, will never stop gushin bout it aaaaAAA <3

Okay so looking at freddy & bonnie's designs—i am in love with how their dominant and accent colors are opposite of each other like a yin and yang situation. So i absolutely tried to incorporate that when rearranging the palette unto beckory's outfit

Fronnie's colors arent the only contrasting elements about them. Aside from their earrings, even their symbols are a pair—i love how freddy's is a lighting bolt but he is also associated with stars on the side cuz of his branding. While bonnie's is a star but he also has lightning bolts on the side (the purple accent in his fit) to match freddy

And to sprinkle a bit of beckory flair, i put stripe lines across their pants (if you look back on my ref sheet for the squad, the three amigos all have stripes somewhere in their fits, i purposely designed that to be their thing) just to also unify the patterns from their top

i gave tony a scarf to match greg's bow tie accessory. Its a combo homage to bonnie's headband and bunny ears in a way (cuz the ribbons on its ends look like droopy rabbit ears) i gave them gloves to compensate being unable to add punk bracelets on em cuz it would be too much for the overall look (same logic applies to the star shades, its to match with the top hat)

Also this was such a pure coincidence but i also realized beckory wears their fazwatches in the same placement as fronnie wears their earrings on. That actually makes me very happy, i think its a really cool coincidence

And as yall can see, Greg's jacket initially had stars on his sleeves (like it does in the ref), but i decided against putting it in the final cuz im startin to think it might look cluttered and hard to read from afar and tbh, I really liked how the translucent sleeves turned out... I didnt want the star pattern to cover it up lol

And thats pretty much it, thank you coming to my ted talk!! <3

if youre interested to see more of my art process compilation like this you can check over on my ko-fi page, you can support me by buying me a latte cuz I am planning to post more exclusive stuff like this over there in the future so I hope yall look forward to that! I deeply appreciate yall and thank you so much in advance!!

[kingkatsuki]

Everyone leaving a business course in Japan knows that Dynamight PR is THE job to get. Everyone strives and works for it without really knowing what they’re getting into. They just know it’s the highest paying job you can get and you’ll either never need to go job hunting again, or you’ll have an amazing job on your CV. That is until they work there and realise that Dynamight is a dog that cannot be contained by his PR team and the reason you get hired on the spot if you go looking for other jobs is ‘well if you can work for Dynamight, you can work for anyone’

I could write about this trope for hours I’m so obsessed with it— he’d make your job so insufferable whilst simultaneously being the best part of it😫

On paper, a job at Dynamight’s agency is the dream for anyone in business— never mind a student fresh out of school with no experience. Strict NDA’s meant there was little information about what a job working for Dynamight’s PR team was really like, but the fact that his current manager was signed off sick for stress should’ve been an indication of what the job would be like for you.

You didn’t meet Dynamight during your interview, even though it was held at his agency. A fact you found a little peculiar, thinking a Hero climbing the rankings would be invested in who he’d have as his PR assistant— especially as it could help further his career, but it didn’t surprise you. Dynamight was one of the most in-demand heroes, with the media, fans and public desperate for his attention. Of course he wouldn’t have the time to interview everyone that applied for the job.

But you didn’t even meet Dynamight when you got the job. The three weeks since had been surprisingly calm, surprisingly easy. You’d spend your days filtering through emails, most of them from fans who’d beg for a chance of meeting the Pro, or autographs or merch. Not unlike a lot of the emails from the media, trying to arrange interviews or publicity stunts while trying to offer their fees.

The only complaint you’d received was from a young photographer that hadn’t known any better when he shoved his camera directly under Bakugou’s nose during a rescue mission, the hulking Pro carrying an injured civilian over one of his broad shoulders as he grabbed the camera with his palm. The heat of his quirk no match for the intricate technology as it melted beneath his touch, effectively destroying the memory card as he let it drop to the ground. The only evidence a blurry, charred JPEG of Bakugou’s angry face as he reached out for the device. The complaint quickly settled with a new photography set as compensation, as well as a well scripted apology from the Pro. An apology, which you soon realised, was carefully scripted by yourself and signed by the Pro-Hero himself.

“What do you want?” You hadn’t expected these to be the first words your new boss would say to you, and yet here you were.

“Oh, I’m your new PR assistant,” You understood now why people felt intimidated in his presence. Crimson eyes shot you a glare from across the room before he quickly went back to the laptop on his desk, even though thick-rimmed glasses he still felt as intimidating as ever. Even if he did look much cuter like this— “I just need you to sign this apology to the photographer from last week—”

“I ain’t fuckin’ signing that shit,” He scoffed, “Tell that prick he’s lucky it wasn’t his head.”

Now you understood why there were always vacancies available for this job.

You were certain Dynamight wasn’t trying to make your job difficult on purpose, he always seemed to answer your calls when he was inside his office— even if it was usually with an abrupt “what?”. And he even agreed to tone down his aggressive views online, “Fine, sweetheart. I’ll cut the fuckin’ politics. But you know those fuckers need tellin’ how dumb they are”. The peace could only ever be short lived, because no matter how hard you tried, things just seemed to get worse.

If the hero commission weren’t a bunch of pussies Deku wouldn’t be number one for another year in a row.

“Oh my god,” Your eyes squinted as you read the tweet at six in the morning, before you’d even had a chance to wake up and get ready for the day.

The likes and retweets continued to grow as you began to get messages from your team at the agency, and the media as you contemplated just never coming back.

Usually someone in the IT department would lock his account just in time, or intercept the tweets but it wasn’t always quick enough. You really were in the trenches as you decided to take matters into your own hands. Scrolling to your contacts as you called your boss immediately, pinching the bridge of your nose to try and calm the migraine you knew was coming on.

“You’re callin’ a bit late for a bootycall, sweetheart—” He grunted, his breathing laboured on the other side of the phone so you assumed he was at the gym. Or so you hoped, not wanting to imagine him on top of another woman whilst talking to you, “Don’t you start work in an hour?”

“Cut the crap, Bakugou,” You snapped, irritated by the offensive tweet mere hours after he’d promised to tone it down, “You said no more ridiculous tweets.”

“You said no more ridiculous tweets,” He mimicked your tone, “I’m just posting pure fuckin’ facts and you know it. If the commission weren’t so far up Deku’s ass I’d be number one by now.”

“No,” You growled, “If you weren’t such an insufferable asshole all the fucking time and actually tried to show up to some of the events that were organised for you, you might actually have a chance of changing public perception of you. Nevermind the simple fact that Deku had better numbers than you this month. Deku’s number one because he deserves to be, but you deserve it too. So maybe if you fixed up we could get you there, but instead you choose to be a jerk.”

You couldn’t believe the words had left your mouth. Every single ounce of annoyance and irritation you’d felt working under Dynamight for the past month had spewed out in under thirty seconds. The emotions you’d kept bottled up every time you received a new complaint or read a new interview or post from Bakugou, now released from your system.

And even though you were certain that you’d lost your job now, at least you could say that you’d given your notice in style.

“Well shit,” You heard the running stop on the other side of the phone as you assumed he paused his treadmill, panting into the receiver.

“I’m sorry, sir,” You sighed, “Maybe it’s better if you get someone else for the job—”

“I like it when you’re pissed, sweetheart.” He cut you off completely, catching you off guard, “I’ll see you in an hour. You can tell me exactly what you want me to do.”

[ithinkabouttzu]

Kinktober Special: Joe Liebgott x Reader

a/n: Hey guys!! Surprise surprise! Here’s a little thing i’ve been working on and thought I should share for Halloween! I hope you gave have an amazing day today! Also please minors do not interact with this post, thanks!

word count: 1.9k

genre: smut ofc; romance

Warnings: Fingering, cursing, anything sex related tbh. ( fem! reader)

description: after a long night of waiting up for your husbands arrival, he knows just exactly how to repay you…

BoB Masterlist

You looked at the clock on the wall. 8:13 pm. It’s already 8 o'clock and Joe still wasn’t home yet. There was a quick pace in your chest as you walked up to the window near the front door. You wished to see his car pull up to the front of the driveway, but to your disappointment, there was nothing. Just the quick pats of rain that fell onto the street. Worry began to set in your heart, making you immediately assume the worst. Was he okay? Had he gotten into some sort of accident? The anxious thoughts swarmed though your head as you walked back to the reclining chair in the living room, plopping down in the seat, and rejoining your nice glass of red wine. You sighed to yourself. He should have been here by now.

The soft crackles coming from the fireplace brought a nice wave of warmth to your seat. The soft sound of music played throughout the quaint home. You weren’t familiar with the tune, other than the fact that it was sung by the soothing voice of Billie Holiday. The nice melody calmed your nerves while you waited for his return. You took the glass in your hand, and walked upstairs to the shared bedroom.

The room was dark and quiet. You could barely hear the music from upstairs. You turned on the dim light and sat down in front of your vanity. You combed the ends of your hair softly, finding any knots and combing through them gently. It was usually rare on nights like these that you wore your hair down, but it was something Joe enjoyed, maybe a little too much. You had been waiting on him for almost two hours now. Your and his dinner had already been cooked, a nice pot roast, now waiting for his arrival.

You had bathed and rid yourself of your old grimy work clothes that now laid in your room's hamper. You figured it would be nice to surprise your sweet, hard-working husband with a treat of his own. You decided for a sweet nightgown, just a thin piece of black laced sheer hung around your body. You thought it’d be best not to wear your brasserie, letting all of you show. If anyone else was in the home, they would have been able to see right through your flimsy little nightgown.

You could say that this was well deserved for Joe, all those nights of him bringing you flowers after work, or brushing your hair when you were too tired to do so yourself. The one night you decided to compensate him for his good deeds, was the night that he was late from work. You kept your makeup simple, only mascara and a red lip. You started to re-apply your red lip again, making sure the coat looked fresh, when all of a sudden the doorbell rang.

You ran to the window in the room, it was him. Joe’s car was out in the driveway. You could only assume that he was outside, currently being drenched by the strong rain. You hurried down the stairs. You made it to the door in almost no time, swinging the door open quickly that he wouldn’t be left out in the cold rain any longer.

When you opened the door, he looked frustrated. Not at you, but at the weather. Joe stomped into the house and immediately started to ramble. “Honey, I can explain.” He took off his hat and overcoat and hung them on the coat hanger, he hadn’t even taken notice of your outfit yet.

“My boss made me stay late, I tried to call you but the telephone at work was cut off, then when I got on the road traffic was horrible and…” your husband explained himself, he sounded desperate for your understanding. Also maybe a little pissed at himself for being home later than expected. You tried to listen, really, but your brain was almost immediately turned to mush by the way Joe looked in his buttoned shirt. He had obviously sat in the rain for too long, his white shirt had become see-through.

You felt your mouth salivate. His hair had curled up from the rain too, making him look fresh out of the shower. You squeezed your thighs together, hoping to release some of the pressure that resided in your pussy. You felt heat rush through your body as your husband brushed his hair back with his hand.

He looked so good. You spoke up, “You poor thing. You’re soaked. Let's get you some warm clothes, alright?” You looked up at him.

There it was. He finally noticed your outfit. Something shifted in his eyes. They became darker, more primal-like. You felt his eyes scan your body. He had no shame, he let his eyes wander all over you, taking in the scene that laid in front of him. Now it was his turn to salivate. You noticed the almost immediate swell in his pants, the outline of his cock growing with each second he kept his eyes on you. “Oh sweet girl…” He practically groaned out the words. You felt your cunt squeeze around nothing, the desperation in his voice made you weak. “Come here baby, spin around fa’ me.” His raspy voice teased, it was almost too much for you. You had been needing him all day, and you were finally getting what you wanted.

He grabbed your hand, letting you take a small spin for him. You loved feeling his sharp gaze. You knew he liked what he saw. “Fuck” he whispered a sharp curse to himself. You could see the thick dick print that outlined his pants. Poor thing. He picked you up with almost no warning, throwing you over his shoulder. You moaned in surprise. He gave you a hard smack on the ass as he carried you up the stairs. “Atta girl, so soft.” He mumbled in your ear. Once he finally made it to the room he practically threw you down onto the bed. You giggled at his impatience.

Excitement ran through your body as you heard his belt unbuckle. You raised yourself up on your elbows. “You like it?” you said, asking him about your gown.

“I love it. Fucking beautiful.” He sounded animalistic as he hurried to unbutton his shirt. He immediately joined you in the bed once he tore off his last button. He didn’t give you any moment of mercy. He dived straight into your neck, kissing and licking your sweet spot hungrily. “Honey” you sighed out of pleasure. You felt his teeth sink into your soft skin, making you slightly jump. He acted ravenous. You felt your panties flood as he continued to leave small bites all over your neck.

He groaned into the small area, now moving farther down to your collarbone. Joe took off his pants, whilst still marking up your collar. Making you feel his warm cock through his thin layer of underwear that rested on your thigh. You started to lift up your gown, ready to take it off, before he stopped you.

“No, leave it on. You look so pretty.” You shook your head in approval. He looked into your eyes deeply, dipping his mouth down to your breasts, still keeping his eyes on yours. “Can I?” He asked, looking up at you for approval. “Yes” you replied back in barely a whisper. He kissed your sternum through the thin layer of clothing. He groaned out again once he saw your naked chest. “Your titties are so fucking pretty baby, you know that?”

He wasted no time diving into you, planting a wet kiss to your soft nipple, hardening it immediately. Goosebumps ran throughout your body once again. He took his free hand to massage your other breast. His big hand felt so warm around your sensitive areola. He squeezed you softly. “You’re perfect, doll, so fucking perfect.” He managed to mumble out as he sucked on your breast. He finally decided to give your chest a break, before traveling his hands to your warm cunt.

You felt another rush of wetness dampen your panties. His finger curled at the hem of your underwear. You knew him, he wasn’t going to take them off until you asked. “Please– I need you.” You practically cried out, you failed at trying not to sound desperate.

“That’s it sweet girl.” He returned the whisper, taking a small nip at your navel. He slid your panties off quickly, and moved his body down towards your heat. He let out a loud grunt when he saw the state of your pussy. “Such a sweet cunt. I can’t wait to feel you.” His words made your head spin as he pressed his digits softly into your bundle of nerves. “Mmm.” You moaned out to him. “Feel good, baby?” He asked you while continuing his previous motion.

The feeling was overwhelming. His fingertips stayed firm on your clit, rubbing circles slowly until you felt pure pleasure. It wasn’t long before he moved his fingers to your opening. He only put one finger in first, sinking it in slowly. He gave you a second to adjust to his finger’s large size. Your walls squeezed around his finger as his thumb started to rub circles on your already swollen clit.

“Feel good?” He asked you again while pressing his finger deep inside of you, hitting that spongy spot in your walls, the feeling was almost too much. “Yes” You moaned out loudly, his deep voice making you clamp down on his finger. He cursed before mumbling about how tight you felt on him. He was going tauntingly slow, “I’m gonna add another one, okay doll?” You felt the thickness of his second finger fill up your tight cunt. He continued to massage your walls, quickening his pace once you adjusted.

Before long, you felt that familiar pressure bubbling up inside of your stomach. Without even explaining it to him, he already knew you were close. “Gonna cum?” His question sounded desperate. You felt the headboard hit the wall repeatedly, his pace making the bed shake. “Mhm” you replied, loving the way he played with your pussy. You took the last bit of energy you had left in you to look down at him. What a sight to see. Joe, on the edge of the bed, rutting himself onto the edge of the sheets just to feel some type of friction. You moaned and your eyes rolled back at the sight.

“C’mon baby, cum for me” With those words, you released the pressure that had finally been building up in your stomach. You cried out in pleasure as your release flooded all over his hand. His fingers rocked you back and forth slowly until you came down from your high. “Did you like it, sweet girl?” He made his way up to your face, moving the extra fly-aways from around your eyes. “Yes, I did.” You said in a slight whisper before yawning, your body had felt weak. Sleep would come over you sooner than later.

“Did you?” You asked him, remembering the scene that was presented before you. You could see red appear on his face when you asked him.“Couldn’t help myself.” He let out a nervous chuckle while looking down towards the wet spot on his underwear. Making it obvious that he had finished prematurely in his pants. “Let's go to bed, you need sleep, sunshine.” You agreed with him, nodding your head. Joe took off your gown and replaced it with one of his more comfortable t-shirts, before tucking you into bed with him. “Sleep well, princess.”

Thank you for reading again! I hope you all enjoy! Have a Happy Halloween! 🎃🤍

[synthetickitsune]

The Velvet Box ✧ l.sm

Pairing: Lee Seokmin x reader Genre: angst Summary: Marriage isn’t everything, of course. It doesn’t matter as long as you love each other. That’s what you tell each other. But at the same time, the realization that you no longer feel excited over something that felt so right not too long ago broke something inside of you. Word count: 1.6k A/N: @hanniedream ♡

There’s always that one person who remains in the back of your mind, constant and uninvited presence. You might not think about them every minute of every day but somehow they’re always there. All it takes is a flutter of butterfly’s wings and they take over your thoughts. 

Seokmin’s that person for you. Always has been.

He’s always been around, stuck in your orbit, for the better part of your lives. As long as you can remember. And maybe that’s the issue.

“This isn’t going anywhere,” you sigh, your shoulders slumping under the weight of the unresolved conflict. You rub your eyes, as if that can stop the tears from pooling in them.

“You always say that lately,” Seokmin sniffles on the opposite side of the couch. His eyes are red and wide and filled with sadness that only translates as unfulfilled expectations and blame in your mind. He looks so small, like you’re back at school again and he skinned his knee running towards you to meet you a second earlier. 

“Because that’s how it is,” you shrink into yourself. You hate not being in control, hence you hate this. He tries to compensate for you pulling back by opening up. As if lowering his walls ever ended up with him not getting hurt. 

“There has to be a way,” he tries to smile and instead breaks into a sob, “There has to be something.”

The silence that follows is the loudest and clearest answer he could’ve gotten.

The unchanged normalcy of your day to day lives is the worst part. Seokmin still kisses you goodnight and holds you tight through the night. He still kisses you before he leaves in the morning, even if you’re pretending to be fast asleep to avoid him. You make dinner together, you talk and you laugh. You make love. It’s just the elephant in the room is always watching you. You try to get better at ignoring it, no matter how much it grows. 

Don’t fix what’s not broken. Maybe that’s the advice you should follow but honestly, how can you tell when the heart is too damaged. At what point is love not enough? At what point is love, well, what even is it?

The pictures on the wall stare at you with more expectations that you can’t meet. Your younger selves look happy  - they are. Forever ten, fifteen, seventeen, twenty… Forever frozen in the bliss of easier times, drunk and crazy in love. They feel like pictures of the more successful family members that you compare yourself with whether you want to or not. 

And worst of all - the small box resting on the shelf under them. The velvet surface is deep blue and clean, not a speck of dust on it. Between you and Seokmin, you wonder who ran their fingers over the surface more times. Like a manifestation of the lump in your throat when you’re about to cry, like the heavy uneasy feelings in the pit of your stomach, it’s there.

It’s mocking you.

Unlike all the other objects of worship, symbols of good luck, you wonder if this velvet box is actually cursed. It’d be easier to accept than the reality.

Today is another silent day. The type of silence that stretches before the storm. You’re both too tired of fighting, so it’s easier not to say anything. It’s hard to breathe in the stifling atmosphere of the kitchen filled only with the buzzing of the fridge and the lunch bubbling on the stove. 

There’s tension in Seokmin’s shoulders that never used to be there before, one you feel in your own shoulders as well. You stretch, trying to ease it away without result. He notices, though, and approaches you carefully. The whole situation would be easier if you’d get nervous when he stands behind you, if you hated it when he gently puts his hands over your shoulders and starts massaging you.

The food keeps bubbling, the fridge keeps buzzing, the clock keeps ticking. You wonder what’s the difference between now and a year ago. This exact scene could unfold then too, but you’d remember it with love, none of the awkwardness of the present time to be found.

“Let’s not fight today, yeah?” he whispers suddenly. His voice betrays the vulnerability he feels and you know yours would too, so you just nod. There’s not much to say on the topic that hasn’t been said before.

Still you turn towards the wall in the living room. From this angle you can’t see your smiling faces but the little velvet box is impossible to miss. Seokmin turns too, his hands squeezing a little too hard for a fraction of a second before he apologizes and turns his head away again. You follow.

If that thing never came into your life, would you still be happy?

You wonder which of the yous smiling on the wall would be overjoyed, truly excited, bouncing with joy, if only Seokmin dropped to one knee before them. If he presented the velvet box to them instead of the you of the present. It doesn’t matter, of course, seeing as it’s never going to happen in this reality, but you’d truly like to know when was it that the right time has passed without either of you noticing.

It’s always been like that, you think. You’ve always taken too long, driving yourselves crazy with possibilities despite the truth about your feelings being obvious to everyone else. The official start of your relationship itself must’ve been delayed for years at least, precisely because Seokmin couldn’t believe you loved him, because you were unsure if he feels the same.

What else is there to expect of the proposal in such a case? 

You’ve talked about it, again and again. Planned, dreamed, laughed and cried and kicked your feet together in excitement. Your eyes used to spark with life and love just casually mentioning that yeah, one day you’ll get married. 

But dreams are not reality and talk is cheap. Somehow it just never happened. 

One day, the spark was just gone. You can’t say if it happened slowly over time or if the realization hit you like a train, but you do remember the look on Seokmin’s face when suddenly upon mentioning married life he didn’t beam like he discovered the secret to eternal happiness. He looked like his soul was crushed. He looked at you for help, begging for you to help him make sense of it, but you were too shocked, too caught up in processing your own emotions.

And from then on, it’s been a downward spiral of misery.

Yet as hard as it was to navigate your feelings, it’s much harder to navigate the aftermath. Where do you go from a situation like that?

Marriage isn’t everything, of course. It doesn’t matter as long as you love each other. That’s what you tell each other, that’s what you know to be the objective truth. But at the same time, the realization that you no longer feel excited over something that felt so right not too long ago broke something inside you, inside of Seokmin, and you don’t know how to deal with the fallout. And then of course there’s the symbolism of spending the rest of your lives together, of belonging to one another, and the butterflies in your stomach don’t wake from their slumber for that? You think that hurts more than anything.

“Do you… Do you want to stay together?” 

It takes more effort than it should to get the words out and his voice breaks in the middle, tears again falling down his cheeks. You’re so tired. So worn down and exhausted that you feel yourself tearing up too.

“More than anything,” you answer honestly. You don’t even need to think about it, it comes to you as simply as breathing. And for once, you don’t let the doubt creep in. You can’t think about whether it’s what you really feel in your heart or if it’s easier to stick to what you know. Not now when you’re so tired you’re ready to drop. 

“Then what do we do?” Seokmin sniffles, and for once it’s him who approaches the problem realistically, “We can’t go on like this.”

You take a deep breath and let it out slowly. He’s right. And yet you wish he wasn’t. It’s so confusing. Everything feels alright and yet nothing does.

“Is there anything to do?” you shake your head. 

“I love you,” he blurts out, as if that solves anything. His eyes look at you with desperation that matches the look he wore on that fateful day.

The day he pulled out the velvet box. The day he dropped to his knees because he was too unsteady on just one of them. The gesture was meant to save you, but it seems it only set you up for disaster. You weren’t happy, your heart rushed with anxiety, and he-

“I love you too,” you say quickly. Anything to chase away the memory of that day. “But we need to fix this.”

He nods his head solemnly. He opens his mouth and closes it again. He knows just as well as you do that this is the exact point you’ll start running in circles again. You need to do something but it feels like there’s nothing that you can do, you can’t control your hearts. The issue is too big, the hurt is too deep for you to solve it on your own, yet you want to. You’ve always tackled everything together, just you and him against the world.

Seokmin stays quiet while he sits next to you and carefully takes both of your hands in his. His thumb runs over your fingers, trying to comfort you, trying to ground himself.

All you feel is the emptiness on your ring finger.

The same emptiness that fills the velvet box taunting you from the shelf under the history of you and him.

[abbyfmc]

Yandere Emperor! x Female! Reader Phrases #2:

A/N: Continuation of the previous part.

-"When did I say you could go? I brought you here to cuddle you"- The yandere emperor will surely have summoned you one night to serve him, and seeing that you were trying to leave or looking for excuses to leave, he will have closed any door or window, or grabbed you by the wrist or another part of the body.

-"If you are in love with someone else, I will behead him without hesitation"- He is the yandere emperor, and he is capable of anything to have you by his side, including extreme physical punishments or the execution of your partner or fiancé.

-"You didn't know who was going to attack me or how, and yet you protected me that year and suffered great damage to your body. I really appreciate what you did and I want to make it up to you by letting you be my wife."- In a story about Yandere crown prince x maid reader, you probably served the yandere prince (who in the future would be the yandere emperor) closely, and due to the environment in which he lived, you had to watch his back many times, ending up being sometimes punished by other superiors and even tortured. The yandere prince KNOWS about your wounds and scars and now that he is an emperor, he tries to reward you.

-"I will take good care of you."- A more subtle and "kinder" way to make you understand that you will not leave the palace.

-"No matter what you are, you will still be mine. You can be my empress, my favorite consort or concubine; and if you want to be a servant, you will serve at my side, so your rank within this palace does not matter; you will NEVER escape from me."- Another stern warning from him. You are partly right; since if you are his empress, consort or concubine, you will have to continue serving or obeying him in everything. If you are a maid, he will purposely make you clean what he tells you, wash his clothes, follow him and take care of him; or he would put you to hard labor as punishment, until you beg him.

-"If someone dares to hurt you, I will punish the person responsible and their family."- Before, in an imperial family the issue of clans was very important and people like the empress, consorts and concubines were no exception (come on, not even the maids, guards or eunuchs were saved from it) and if they did something very bad, The emperor could punish them and their families or clans with whatever he wanted; from exile, loss of compensation and living conditions, to multiple executions.

-"Every item sent to (Y/n)'s palace must be meticulously checked."- The yandere emperor KNOWS that fights and intrigues occur in the harem that mostly end in murders, attempted murders, poisonings, accidents, false accusations and even attempted abortions by some concubines on others. He would do it with the excuse of protecting you and your possible child.

-"I can't wait to see you carry our children in your womb. That will unite us more, and make you more mine."- The yandere emperor wants to sleep with you and get you pregnant (if you are a woman), because he thinks that not only could a prince from your side be the future of the empire (or if it is a princess, he could form marital and political alliances), but He believes that with that you will not leave his side.

-"I feel delighted with every walk I take with you. Every talk, every laugh, every meal, every celebration and even when you sleep with me, I feel great; something I never experienced with anyone else."- The yandere emperor would love every moment with you; more preferably alone than in a group with his other imperial women.

-"Let these marks or scars be a clear warning in case you try to escape again."- The yandere emperor is strict with his rules, and the "no escape" rule is undoubtedly the strictest. Every time he sees you trying to escape he not only locks you up, but physically punishes you so that when you see the scars when you change or bathe, you have a memory of what will happen to you if you try to escape from him again.

-"I always collect every gift you give me, although there is one that I still fight for and that you still don't give me: your heart."- Yes, the emperor adored and appreciated either discreetly or indiscreetly each of your gifts; whether it was new clothes, new accessories, some painting on him, some sculpture, a show or simply personally playing an instrument for him. But he knows that you do it without love for him.

-"I promise you that I will take care of you and our son."- He would probably make you pregnant, and as soon as he found out he put you under all kinds of 24/7 care. He watched you all the time and had every gift, food, drink or medicine that came into your hands thoroughly checked.

-The end.

[recycledraccoon]

Senior Year Au

Former Rat Grinders all spend the rest of Junior year and all of summer break in therapy, both individually and as a group. It's a lot of work, but they're coming back together in the aftermath in a healthier more sustainable way. (The empty places among them leave them feeling a mix of complicated emotions.)

Mary Ann still maintains her relationship (???) with Gorgug. (They're not asking many questions because Mary Ann gives few answers.) Lucy is good friends now with The Bad Kids, but Kristen especially. Even Ruben is on decent terms for the most part.

Ivy and Oisin had it much harder. They don't remember everything, but they remember enough to make the weight of it heavy on their shoulders, Oisin especially for the large part he and his magic had played.

Ivy had never been one to blatantly apologize. She's always been a bit catty, though never like that before. Still, before the school year ends she (very politely) asks Mazey for a moment of her time.

Mazey, a much kinder person, agrees and they step aside somewhere a little more private. (For however brief a time it was, Mazey did feel what the rage from that shatter star felt like. It's a large factor in her giving Ivy this chance.)

Ivy, as much as it visibly pained her to say the actual word sorry initially, does genuinely apologize. She's blut about it, and doesn't shy away in the least from the acknowledgement of how fucked up the things she said were.

They talk for a bit, and while it's hard to imagine they may ever be friends, both girls leave the conversation feeling closure on the topic.

Mazey ends up talking to Fabian about it, so of course the Bad Kids know.

Oisin talks briefly with Fabian Seacaster one day, extending an apology for the damages to him home, and passes along information so Oisin can ensure financial compensation is had.

The apology to Fabian is appreciated, but talking about it later the Bad Kids hone in on the fact that Oisin hasn't spoken to Adaine even once, to apologize for the taunt he's sent her or for-

Adaine abruptly says she doesn't want to talk about it, and ignores the fact that he exists entirely.

Oisin doesn't talk to them once the rest of Junior Year, even tho the rest of his team does. The Bad Kids think him a coward, and while Oisin would agree with them, the Rat Grinders look at each other with tight lips.

.

.

.

Oisin struggles greatly with his actions. He had been, essentially, Kipperlily's right hand. His magic had allowed Kipperlily access into, and away from, the Bad Kids Last Stand where she had killed Buddy. (They do not know where he is, but they've sworn to each other to find him.) His magic had laid the trap in Seacaster Manor, his summoning calling the Nightmare King Storm and his relatives who swarmed a house-boat filled with innocents.

Jawbone does help them get an actual accredited therapist, which is something Oisin feels great relief about, as it makes it easier to talk about some aspects of his time under the shatter-star.

.

.

Like the fact that prior to all this, he did have a very genuine crush on Adaine Abernant.

.

.

.

How couldn't he? She was beautiful yes, stunningly so, but more importantly she was smarter than a whip and a phenomenal wizard, unafraid to get her hands dirty. Even as short, scrawny dragonborn with glasses that felt too big for his snout at the time, he'd held the girl in very high esteem.

Oh he'd never ever dare to talk to her, for all that his friends may have once tried to encourage it during freshman year. He'd known even then that the elven girl was far out of his league.

While he wasn't a true dragon, Oisin's family had strong blood ties still, and the bleed over was still strong. Strength was important to them, and fighting the other was the first step in courtships between Dragons for a large variety of reasons. He'd been so scrawny, and a untested young wizard to boot, that he couldn't fathom ever being strong enough to match up to a girl like her. He's certainly endured enough scrutiny for his lack of battle prowess at home.

So no, Oisin hadn't thought that he would ever be a good match for such a girl, but he could hoard tender feelings about her in his chest, and nobody could do or say anything about it. At most he would endure some playful teasing at the time but he'd always reassure his friends it was alright.

"Not every unrequited love is bitter." Oisin told them once, smiling softly as he pulled his eyes away from where Adaine was walking to join her friends for lunch further out in the quad. "Statistically, high school romances don't work out. This is just...an equation that doesn't result in a positive answer. No use being angry at the numbers, the math won't change." He says.

Lucy had frowned, "Life isn't a math question Oisin."

"Yes it is," Oisin's responded, "it's just one of the unsolvable ones." His grin turned into a yelp when Ivy had dragged him down to try to noogie him, and they had all laughed and left the topic alone.

.

.

.

When he had first been raged out, he hadn't felt bitter. He felt strong and powerful and didn't need the distractions. But when Adaine had spotted him at the party to talk, after he'd grown tall and bulked out from the hours pumping iron to burn off the excess anger-

She only noticed him when he'd already been on his way to hell. That's when he started feeling bitter.

.

.

.

Oisin has so many complicated emotions and guilts eating away at him. He desperately wants to apologize to Adaine Abernant, to lay his heart bare so she may deliver his due judgement and strike true.

But more than anything, he needs to sort himself out first. He would not risk apologizing, not when his heart still ached, not when anyone could possibly notice and decide his apology was motivated by selfish wants instead of true remorse.

So Oisin does not speak to any of them the rest of that year or over the summer, even as the others will tag along with Lucy and Mary Ann sometimes to join the Bad Kids for an afternoon. He goes to therapy, reads self books, and painstakingly does his best to bleed the love for Adaine Abernant out of his heart. He knew the statistics when he fell in love, he'd have to do this one day or another.

Finally, first day of Senior Year, Oisin follows his party to where the remaining Bad Kids are.

He's spotted immediately, he knows because Riz Gukgak goes tense and starts furiously whispering, the Bad Kids exchange hushed words Oisin is too far to hear, but Adaine Abernant meets his gaze for a long moment.

Then she turns and leaves.

Oisin isn't surprised, but he does watch her leave for perhaps longer than he should have, before quickening his steps to catch up with the others.

The Bad Kids, as alright as they are with the others, glare at Oisin. Ivy beside him is tense, but bumping his tail against the back of her calves is his way of telling her this is alright.

He gives brief apologies, for the storm and those of his family who had attacked them all on his request.

Then, he quietly asks them to pass on a message to Adaine.

"I would like to apologize to her but-" He clears his throat under the pressure of the glares he's receiving. "If she doesn't want to hear it I understand completely."

Oisin doesn't give much time for a response, dipping his head and giving a quick goodbye as he prepared to go find his locker before classes.

"Oisin-" Lucy calls as he starts stepping away from the group.

"It's alright," Oisin murmers, thinking back to a warm fall day in the quad during freshman year. "I already knew the outcome of this equation."

"Life's not a fucking math problem, love." Ivy says, arms crossed defensively. Nobody else talks, and Oisin can feel the glares of the Bad Kids burning into his scales.

"Yes it is," he reminds them. "It's just a messy, unsolvable one." Oisin's smile is soft and tired. It is the smile of a man who's been resigned to his fate his whole life.

He'd always knew he'd never been or would ever be worth even a moment of the beautiful, amazing Elven Oracle's time.

He'd run the math, and it was no use being mad at numbers that wouldn't change.

Oisin turned and left.

[hyperfixiation-station]

Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Information

A Study in Torture

TW: Blood, Gore, Torture, graphic depiction's of violence Summary: Reader was caught on a mission and has been in the clutches of the enemy for over a month...

Apprehension, Rescue, Rehabilitation

You wake up sputtering, freezing cold, and drenched in water.

“Good morning little bird. Thought you would like a bath.” Your captor stands above you, rolling you onto your back with his foot, “You are pretty filthy.” You squirm slightly, and he steps on your arm to pin you  in place.  He crouches over you, gripping your face with his hands. 

“You know how I feel about you sleeping without permission, little bird. Why’d you have to go and break that rule? Now I have to punish you.” He says sadly. He gets off of you, only to yank you up by the collar wrapped around your throat and let go. You teeter, vision swimming as your broken body tries to compensate for the change in position. 

The room you are led to is mostly bare, with just a tub of water in the center. Your heart sinks, fear pooling your belly. You’ve been here long enough to know that water is your least favorite method of punishment. When you first were brought here, the goal was to extract information from you, but now it seems more like your captor gets off on you being in pain. 

“You know how much I love water Little Bird.” He laughs, dragging you forward. 

“Kneel.” He murmurs, standing you in front of the tub.

 You drop to your knees without hesitation. 

“Aw you can learn something. I’m so proud.” The man says happily, petting your  hair. Despite yourself, you preen under the praise.

“Unfortunately, you did break rules this morning, soooo.” He grabs your hair, twisting so it's balled up in his hand, “Deep breath little bird.” He shoves your head under, digging his knee into your back to hold you in place.

 For the first minute you sit still, waiting, but as the seconds tick by with you not being allowed up, as your lungs begin to burn and scream for air, panic sets in and you try to fight your way up. 

He lets go, allowing you up. You sucks in ragged breaths, coughing and vomiting up water as your body shakes. He gives you another second before grabbing your shoulders and forcing you back down. He does this again and again and again, until you are a shivering, pathetic mess. 

He cups your cheek, running a hand through your hair.

“It doesn't have to be like this little bird. All you have to do is listen to me. It’s really not that hard.” 

“Look at me when I am talking to you.” He snarls, “God, why are you so stubborn? I don’t want to do this, but you just. Won’t. Listen.” He wraps the chain attached to the collar on your neck around his hand and pulls, yanking you up. 

You shiver violently, staring at the ground, still kneeling in front of the basin. The man frowns, yanking your head up.

You let out a startled yelp, vision going black as your body screams for you to rest.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper. The man growls, yanking you toward him and slamming your face into the wall.

“You will address me by Sir.” He screams at you, “Is that really so hard? It's three little letters you stupid, worthless slut.” 

“You. Fucking. Worthless. Whore.” He snarls, foot connecting with your body with each word, “It's no wonder no one has come to save you. No one wants a disobedient bitch. You won’t tell me what I want to know, and now you won’t even listen to me. I saved you from death and this is how you repay me?” You shriek in pain as he brings his heel down on your wrist, shattering it. He kicks you again and again and again, bones crunching, skin breaking, the sheer agony of it dragging you into the blessed depths of unconsciousness. 

You sink to the floor, sobbing. Blood runs down your face, getting in your eyes, in your nose, in your mouth. Your head throbs, your lungs burn, and your ears ring, but you can still hear him screaming at you over the sound.

“Say it.” He screams, each word sending spikes of pain through your skull, “Say you are a stupid, worthless slut.” You won’t. You may have lost every scrap of dignity, may kneel at his feet like a dog, but he had not broken you so completely that you would desecrate herself like that. 

The video ends there, your body so bloody and broken it's almost unrecognizable. The conference room is completely silent, save for the dry heaves coming from Gaz’s direction. 

“We have their location Captain.”

LMK what you think and if you want a part 2

[hottiehiei]

- NSFW Alaphabet with Hiei (but I pick the letters I want)

nsfw (but its not overly explicit), gender neutral

i used the word c*ck… im so sorry. i literally hate that word but i had to.

✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻

𓆩⟡���� A = Aftercare

Hiei has unlimited stamina compared to you.

While you’re worn out and exhausted, he’s barely breaking a sweat. He simply looks down at you expectantly, even when it’s clear you won’t make it through another round. The need for rest overpowers all of your senses, and you’ll drift into a soundless slumber, leaving Hiei alone.

Of course, this ticks him off. He scolds you for having such a weak human body— all the while massaging your hips and thighs because he knows they’re aching. It’s mostly his fault, so he tries to compensate by doing small things like wiping your body clean.

Hiei watches you rest, grateful to have you by his side.

𓆩⟡𓆪 B = Body part

His Jagan eye is his favorite body part. He has a full view of your entire body. There isn’t a single thing he misses, not even the shiver that crawls over your skin when he tears off your clothes.

Hiei also likes his physique. When you trail your fingers down his chest or claw at his back, he’s over the moon.

As for your body, he admires your lips. He likes the way you pout when he pulls out of you, and the way your mouth hangs open from pleasure when he thrust back inside of you. Or best of all, when your lips wrap around his cock.

Hiei really enjoys kissings. He will bite your lower lip, suck on it, pull it with his teeth, you name it.

𓆩⟡𓆪 C = Cum

The taste is bitter. Literal battery acid. Do not recommend.

𓆩⟡𓆪 F = Favorite position

Hiei favors any position that involves you being at his mercy.

There’s this undeniable urge to bind your wrist, spread your legs further apart, and kiss you senseless. If the position hinders any of that, then he doesn’t bother with it.

Occasionally, he’ll let you on top, but be ready to endure some teasing. The minute he notices you getting tired or struggling to take him…

“So predictable. All that begging for nothing.”

“Just say the word and I’ll show you how it’s done.”

𓆩⟡𓆪 K = Kink

He gets turned on when arguing.

Don’t be fooled by his calm tone. He lets you think you have the upper hand, meanwhile he’s plotting. Lash out all you want, it only makes him want to put you to the test. The more you push his buttons, the more he’s thinking about bending you over and making you beg.

Seeing you act aggressive toward other people also turns him on. Whether it’s yelling at one of the boys or knocking someone over the head, he’s impressed.

The fastest way to rile him up is to physically tease him. Keep it brief and subtle. Whisper in his ear when no one’s looking, he’ll get aroused just from fantasizing about you.

Reel him in little by little, then scurry off before he has a chance to capture you. Hiei loves it.

𓆩⟡𓆪 O = Oral

He prefers to receive, mostly due to the power dynamic. You’re below him, looking up through your lashes, doing your best to please him. It gets him going every single time.

The dirty talk is ruthless, but hot.

“I know you can do better than this. Don’t expect me to praise you.”

“Relax your throat and take all of it.”

If you allow him, he’ll grab your hair and guide you deeper.

He’s good at giving oral though. If you can handle the teasing, edging, and overstimulation….he won’t disappoint.

𓆩⟡𓆪 P = Pace

Hiei is naturally fast, so that’s usually the normal pace.

But if you’re one to enjoy it hard and fast, then he might purposely slow down. He wants your body brimming with lust before letting his impulses take over.

Other times, he’ll skip the foreplay and take you how he wants, just from sexual frustration. Don’t even bother asking for a break, he’s too focused on how good and tight you feel, his mind hazy with pure desire.

𓆩⟡𓆪 V = Volume

Mostly grunts. He’s gritting his teeth, holding the noises in. The only time you can get a full moan is during oral or when he’s close to his orgasm. It’s a pleasant sound. Deep and husky, like his voice dropped a few octaves.

✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻

extra:

𓆩⟡𓆪 W= Wild Card

Hiei is a brat tamer.

[predestinatos]

inside me | CL16 ִ ۫ ּ 𓂅⋆ 🗝️.♡

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

pairing: charles leclerc × fem!reader 

summary: feelings aren't something charles and you talk about. especially not when you're tipsy in a club bathroom. chapter 3 of an ongoing series.

tags: enemies to lovers, more jealous!charles, i never get tired of writing it, smut, sexual content, cursing, some progress in vulnerability sort of? not much, angsty-ish but soft? ending.

word count: 5.4k

📎⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ minors dni !! warnings & note underneath

warnings: smut, oral sex (male receiving), sort of rough sex, sexting, this is soo filthy, unprotected sex, creampie.

note: okay so! i got a bit carried away while writing this, clearly being so much bigger than usual, but it's to compensate for my 4-day absence which will surely delay the next chapter a bit!! thank you again so so so so!!!!! much for the good comments and support, it genuinely makes me very very happy. hope you like this one!

“Two more tequila shots, please” Oscar shouted to the bartender, the music muffling his voice and your thoughts.

The two glasses appeared before you, its content calling to your dizzy mind. Dropping the salt in your hand, you prepared for the countdown. Oscar looked flushed and giddy, already a bit tipsy, just like you. His cheeks were a soft pink and his eyes were constantly in a smiling expression, which spread itself to you. “A toast to a very good friendship” he said, laughing, as you clinked your cups against each other, licked the salt off of your hands, chugged the drink and placed lemon in your mouths.

Oscar and you had kept going out. You enjoyed each other’s company, talking to each other and overall just existing together. Of course, one of those nights you two had to have the talk you dreaded to have. Curiously, it was Oscar who started, his words spilling very fast and messily, although they could be condensed to a simple “I think we’re just friends.” You were totally okay with that. It simplified your life, and Oscar’s following proposal just made it even better. “That doesn’t mean we can’t… have fun together, though. If you’d like to.” And that was your relationship with him – purely a fun one, a jokingly flirtatious game where none of you had your hearts broken because there was nothing to break apart from a few glasses.

So, after many shots and funny faces at the taste were exchanged, here you were, dancing with him enthusiastically, your bodies jumping and touching and having fun.

You were surrounded by people you loved – Oscar, your friends, everybody at that club – and that loved each other in that moment. Your friends got along beautifully with Oscar, and you even saw some potential for deeper relationships with this one girl, so you were happy, insanely so. Except for one thing: the pair of eyes looking at you from you and your friends’ tables.

As much as you tried moving further away, enjoy yourself and drink away the burning hot sensation on the back of your head, you couldn’t. Charles’ gaze wouldn’t leave your body, filled with rhythm and loose, but contrastingly so tense from his eyes.

You knew Charles was coming. But you thought he would be calm about things, take them lightly and not care much, given the fact that you and him were in very weird territory. It was now hard to hide from your friends that something was going on – the snarky remarks had turned more like innuendos and inside jokes that made you blush, and there were only so many nights where, for some reason, only the two of you couldn’t make it. Apart from those two instances, your relationship with Charles hadn’t been physical again. Some texts were exchanged, sure, but neither of you knew what you were doing; you were ice skating on very thin grounds, which threatened to break at any given moment. It was a matter of who was going to take the hardest step.

“I’m pretty sure Leclerc is into you” Oscar started, laughing at something that wasn’t particularly funny were it not for the alcohol in your system. You laughed back, throwing your hands around his neck and letting your mind run through all the thoughts compressed in your head, all the sounds and sensations surrounding you. “You’re friends, why don’t you ask him?” you replied in his ear, hoping he would hear you, or maybe even guess what you were saying. Pulling away to look into his eyes, you saw him shaking his head in a negative motion, the tipsy smile in his pink lips “he would murder me if I even got remotely close to him.” You both bursted out laughing again, shrugging carelessly at the ridiculousness of it all. “No it’s just… he hasn’t stopped staring at us and I doubt it’s because he finds me attractive” the Australian continued, nodding his head towards where Charles was sitting. Unapologetically, you two stared at him, who also unapologetically refused to break eye contact. Holding a beer in his right hand, eyebrows furrowed and shirt sleever pulled up, he looked angry. Yet, he also looked attractive, his gaze dark and possessive, his left hand tense and his jeans hugging his legs perfectly. He raised his bottle towards the both of you as in a friendly excuse of a toast, or even recognition of your existence as something other than 2 nuisances. You nodded again in recognition, a peace treaty that was sure to be broken sooner than later.

As you turned around to keep dancing, you saw Oscar’s eyes widen in shock, amazement and amusement all at once. “What?” you asked, nervous. Before he could even answer, Charles was behind you, half yelling, half whispering, not to you, but to Oscar. “Can I borrow her for a second?”

In his drunkenness, but also his own enjoyment, he merely nodded gleefully, winking at you as Charles gripped your arm softly as if to assure you you were fine, or as fine as you could be in that moment.

The bathroom was tight. Very tight. Or maybe it was spacious but simply felt like it, when Charles was so close to you, his grip on your arm tight but not angry in the slightest. It also felt hot, burning and scalding, like being too close to the sun, yet you knew for sure they had AC and it was on. Releasing your arm, Charles pulled away from you only to lock the door of the bathroom.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, laughing drunkenly at the stupidity of it all. “You’re gonna drive a lot of people mad by doing that” you tell him while fixing your hair as best as you could. You notice his body stiffening at your words and how they mockingly leave your lips, and even though he is currently not close to you at all, you still feel him on every inch of your skin when he lowers his voice and says “you’re driving me mad.”

Perhaps because you were drunk, you giggled ironically. Not only was the situation frustrating to the point of laughing, it was clear you had the upper hand in this case, with Charles’ voice and expression finally showcasing more vulnerability than usual. “And why is that, Charlie?” you ask, keeping the mocking tone that was getting to him even more this time. With the question, you dared to walk closer to him slowly, not taking your eyes off of his face. His jaw tightened and he looked away, his brain seemingly as loud as the muffled music outside. For a few seconds, you remained like that, in silence, your defiance and his stubbornness fighting quietly. Upon his clear refusal to answer, all you could do was shrug, “that’s what I thought.” You start walking towards the door, but his tall frame stops you before you can get to it. You are, again, so close to him, feeling his scent, alcohol and expensive perfume, but not his touch, for his hands remain by his side. “I’m not going to stop you from leaving if you want,” he started, his jaw tense as he licked his lips. “Then answer me” you demanded.

It wasn’t even that big of a question, you just wanted to hear him admit that he was jealous, even though he had no right to be. You wanted to see where this conversation would go, if you could finally put an end to this game you two were playing, as painful as it was for you to end it. You knew deep down the reason why he didn’t answer was because that meant exactly that – it meant talking about feelings, about rules, about labels. And neither of you were ready to do that. You realized then that you were placing on him the weight of it, cowardice filling you even in drunkenness.

Running a hand through his hair frustratedly, he moved his feet to let you move towards the door, unblocking your passage. You suddenly felt cold, his frame not hovering yours anymore, and that gesture held more vulnerability than any other he had ever done in the past. So, because you were slightly drunk, or maybe in spite of it, you pulled him towards you and kissed him.

His whole body relaxed against you, letting out a frustrated and hungry breath. By now, his hands and lips felt familiar yet new all at once. Your heart raced as if it was all novelty, yet you knew it wasn’t, for you had been craving them for so long. The way he was kissing was new, however. It always seemed to be, every time you two met again, for he seemed to place more and more feeling and less and less thought into his kiss, his lips moving against yours in a needy, almost desperate way, much different from the previous arrogance he possessed.

He let out a breathy whimper against your lips, and you realized then how completely yours he was. You pulled even closer against you, his shirt collar feeling hard contrasting with his soft hands on your body, wrapping your legs around his waist as he placed you on the sink. The coldness of the sink causes you to hiss and then laugh to yourself amidst the kiss, to which he too lets out a soft chuckle.

“I’m serious, you do drive me mad” he suddenly said, bringing both of your thoughts back to that which you were trying to avoid. You looked down at the already visible bulge in his jeans, and your eyebrows raised before looking back up at him – “I can tell.”

Charles suddenly looked shy, not expecting your bluntness, and he looked away to compose himself. Then, suddenly and unexpectedly, he took a deep breath and placed his hand on your leg softly, to which you responded by biting your bottom lip and closing your eyes at the feeling. “You really want to talk about that?” he replied to your previous comment, his cockiness coming back as fast as it had disappeared upon realizing how turned on he made you feel by simple touches.

Feeling brave, playful, or overall crazy, you grabbed his other hand and brought it to your lips. You kissed each of his fingers carefully, not hiding your pleasured face as you felt his gaze darken at the sight of you. His grip on your thigh suddenly intensified, this time as an attempt to calm himself down, though it was clear he couldn’t do so successfully. Charles was already going absolutely insane over the view he had, but then you brought his hand to your cheek and placed his thumb on your open mouth. He inhaled sharply, in lustful anticipation, before you closed your lips around him and sucked his finger while looking up at him. “F-fuck… don’t do this to me” he breathed, his head cocked to the side, both desperate and demanding. You took his finger off of your mouth to reply, leaving your mouth smeared with saliva that he spread across your lips as you muttered “why not?”

With the question, he grabbed you by the waist and turned you around, your back pressed hard against him, feeling his heartbeat racing and his cock against you. His hand flew to your hair, pulling it so you could see yourself in the mirror, as the other went back to the position it was before, thumb pushing forcefully inside your mouth. “Look at yourself. You look so fucking hot. You can’t do this to me, not when I’m so so mad at you” he whispered in your ear, his breath sending shivers down your body, as he pushed himself against you harder, causing a moan to leave your lips. “What?” he mockingly asked, his eyes pierced on yours through the mirror, a dark smile spreading across his expression.

Everything Charles did hit you with a force a thousand times higher than anyone else. It was the years of accumulated tension that culminated in this incessant need for each other – and it didn’t seem to be fulfilled any time soon. So when Charles released his grip on your hair and removed his hand from your lips, you felt betrayed and disappointed, your underwear soaking wet but unsatisfied. “We’ve had enough fun for a night, you’re drunk” he said, tapping your shoulder carefully as if you were a child.

This sudden change in behavior managed to not only anger you, but also hurt you deeply. It felt like treason, of the highest sort – the way he suddenly seemed to care about your state actually, paradoxically, seemed like the meanest thing one could do in that situation.

“I was drunk the night in my house, too” you replied, your anger coming out of your voice and suffocating any attempts of the hurt from being noticeable. Charles merely closed him eyes softly, taking a deep breath. “We were both drunk. We were both impulsive” he said, opening his eyes and looking straight at you.

His words hit you like a punch in the stomach, making the music stop, at least in your ears, in your mind, in your body. You raised your eyebrows at him, and you wanted to scream, to yell at him, to hurt him back. And you knew the only way to do so was by doing the total opposite of what you felt like doing – “okay” – was the only word that escaped your lips as you made your way out of the bathroom, back into the noise, the drinks, the distractions.

You went home afterwards, your mind spinning and your body too exhausted to keep going. Oscar had dropped you off at home, already sober enough to drive (at least way more than you were), but not before listening to the whole story of What Is Going On Between You and Leclerc, his mouth hanging open during the whole journey. His goodbye was said through a kiss on the cheek and a “don’t show up to races with me anymore, I have to win!”, which made you laugh despite it all.

You now laid in bed, comfortable pyjamas on and too tired to take your makeup off despite the constant warnings from everyone that you should do so. You tried convincing yourself you’d do it later, knowing fully well the most probable scenario was you falling asleep just like that, but it didn’t matter. Your TV was on, something was playing in the background but you weren’t particularly watching it, for your head was still spinning.

The attention you weren’t paying at all was interrupted by your screen lighting up, which normally you would ignore, were it not for its content, and, more specifically, who had sent it.

Charles (Asshole): whre are you (3:12am) Charles (Asshole): cna we talk??? (3:12am)

You shouldn’t answer, in fact, you were tempted not to. However, his texts clearly revealed he was not sober in the slightest, and as much as you hated to admit it, you cared about him. Upon some minutes with your fingers hovering the keyboard on your screen, you replied.

You: home. pls call an uber (3:14am) Charles (Asshole): on my wya. i did. im not taht stupod (3:15am)

The wait seemed hours long. You sat there, before deciding to get some water for yourself, and also for him, who definitely needed it more than you did at this point. You checked how decent you looked in the mirror, and despite frowning a bit at the messy aspect of your comfortability, you decided it did not really matter given the state Charles appeared to be in.

Those suspicions were confirmed after a very badly typed “I’m outside” text, which you decoded well enough to open the door. You were greeted with Charles wearing a giddy smile, his eyes partly glossy and his cheeks red. He seemed unbelievably content, more than usual, and you knew it was because of the alcohol in his veins, his thoughts, his whole body. You stood aside to let him in, and without ceremony, he sprawled across your sofa. “Good memories in here” he started, his voice dragging, stumbling across some words, and finishing with silly giggles.

You merely rolled your eyes at him, despite how endearing he now appeared before you. Sitting next to him on the couch, you felt his head resting on your lap, which, surprisingly, did not ignite your need to protest. Instead, you instinctively caressed his hair, soothing him and yourself at the same time. He let soft murmurs escape his lips, and tried closing his eyes for brief moments. However, he quickly opened them, “God, it spins even more with my eyes closed” he said, bringing his hand to his brow.

“You should drink some water” you said, attentively. Charles looked up at you, his eyes shining with intoxicated passion, and his hand caressed your face softly. “You’re so pretty” was all he could say in reply to your suggestion, a reply which further confirmed the need for him to fulfill that task.

You carefully urged him to sit upright, which he did despite some protests, and brought the glass of water to his lips softly. You watched him gulp the liquid as it dribbled a bit from his chin towards his neck, and you shamefully looked away, images of other much different nights surfacing in your head.

You allowed yourself to look back upon hearing his satisfied “ah” and feeling the weight of the cup decreasing to its minimum. With this, you noticed his shirt unbuttoned, more than usual, and as he sat back, his chest almost fully exposed to you. Your eyebrows furrowed for a few seconds, and you bit hard, holding back whatever feeling was going through you, which you refused to name despite it all. He was drunk, you were not sober, you two had nothing, it was not the time.

You couldn’t help but make a comment though, “I see you didn’t let me ruin your fun” – you tried to joke, but it sounded more petty than you had intended. He looked towards his shirt, then back up at you, before letting out a loud laugh and running his hands through his hair. “Yeah, well, I wanted to take you off my mind. Clearly it didn’t work.”

There it was. The thin line you both didn’t want to cross. Frustratingly, the only times you were close to doing so had to be under the influence of alcohol, making it impossible to discern what is meant and what is blurted out. Because of this, you merely shrugged off a laugh, and remained in silence, looking down.

You felt and heard his body shifting closer to yours from behind, his hands making his way towards your shoulders and neck, massaging them softly. You let him, enjoying the feeling, needing it way more than you thought – either the massage itself or the simple feel of his touch, you couldn’t say. At first, his touch was light, almost hard to feel, like a soft breeze on your bare skin. However, slowly, his hands started applying more pressure, getting more greedy with their movements, as if consuming all of you.

His warm breath hit your neck and ears, the sensation causing your vision to completely blur. It impressed you, how despite being drunk, he seemed to know exactly what to do to push you to the edge. You turned your head back towards his and as is gaze fell on your lips, your heartbeat increased, signals travelling throughout your whole body.

Once again that night, you were aware of how you were the one who pulled Charles towards you, relieving him of the need he had for you like this – not merely with touches, but with a ravenous control and hunger, completely at his display. However, you pulled away, your mind stable enough to know what you were doing – if he already thought you drove him mad, he had no clue what was coming.

His confused expression met your suppressed smirk, and before he could protest, or at least question you, you spoke. “You’re drunk. Don’t want to be impulsive,” and with that, you got up and quickly went to your room, coming back with a sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants, which you threw on the sofa. “You can sleep here. Those are Oscar’s,” you were aware you didn’t have to say that, but at that point you realized there were no rules to this game anymore – everything counted. “Goodnight”

You turned away, leaving Charles processing what had happened in those minutes, how things shifted so fast. You felt satisfied with the control you had over him, the payback for what he had done, yet you couldn’t deny the frustration only increased as well. It took so much of you to pull away, to not give yourself up completely to him, especially when you knew how good he felt and how much he wanted you.

You sat in bed and turned on the TV once again, trying to drown the pulsating feeling in your core. It was hard to concentrate, knowing Charles was one door away, his warm body so ready to take you. The images running through your mind left you desperate, and you decided to take matters into your own hands – literally.

You slipped a hand down your stomach, inside your shorts, and touched yourself lightly through your underwear. You were embarrassingly wet, and so sensitive that as soon as your hand found its way between your legs, you left out a small moan. You knew it wasn’t loud enough for him to hear, yet you brought the other hand to your mouth impulsively and timidly.

As if guessing, your phone lit up once again, with a couple of texts that left you speechless.

Charles (Asshole): im tryign my best not to go there adn ruin you (4:02am) Charles (Asshole):  but youre making it so hard fro me (4:02am)

You couldn’t move – at least, not anything but your hand, drowned between your legs, frantically moving in unconscious and needy desire. You simply stared at the text, biting your lip to prevent any noise from coming out of. As you stared at it, you saw the three dots that told you he was typing more. Your eyes flew to the door, as if you could see through it towards the living room, where Charles was lying, typing these messages to you. The thought of him behind that door got you lightheaded, feeling utterly drunk again.

Charles (Asshole): i know youore reading these (4:04am) Charles (Asshole): if you want me to, ill sotp (4:04am)

Upon that last text, which wasn’t a threat in the slightest but which you interpreted as such, given the urgency in which you needed him to continue, your hand flew to your phone, immediately typing a response.

You: dont stop (4:05am)

It was hard, typing with only one hand, the other occupied trying to replicate Charles’ own touch, and to make matters worse, you couldn’t think straight. Typing those simple words took more time than you cared to admit or wanted, and you knew he wasn’t dumb to not have realized that. That simple request you made boosted his confidence to reply in a manner that immediately hinted that he knew what to do, that he now felt like he had free reign.

Charles (Asshole): why not? (4:05am)

You couldn’t see him, yet you knew this question wasn’t innocent, you knew he was on the other side completely pleased with himself, a smile sprawled across his pink lips.

Charles (Asshole): asnwer me princess (4:06am)

The nickname, even when used to get under your skin – or maybe because of it – set you over the edge completely. You had been holding your composure for so long that this simple word made you whimper, this time loud enough to know he had heard it.

Charles (Asshole): fuck that was so hot (4:06am) Charles (Asshole): i want you so bad (4:07am)

You were now filled with ecstasy, your walls begging for him to fill you, your head swimming in overwhelming arousal. So, you decided to do what you were meant to do since you first placed your lips on his: keep playing.

You: prove it (4:08am) You: i dare you (4:08am)

That text was all it took for Charles to completely unleash himself, getting up from the sofa and moving towards your bedroom, opening the door with urgency, finding your body outlined by the television lights.

He had changed, somewhere in between your trip to your room and his first text, but only partially – he stood, shirtless, before you, standing at the feet of the bed as you looked up at him, your face leveling his waist area.

You licked your lips instinctively, and for a moment time stood still between him and you, his chest rising and falling deeply, his muscles tense with need. Charles broke that spell by placing his index finger carefully on your chin, raising your gaze towards his and stilling it there. You swallowed dry, lustfully. “Show me what you were doing before I came in” he demanded, roughly this time. In fact, his hand remained there, forbidding you from breaking eye contact, as you lifted your arm and brough it downward, back between your legs. “Were you thinking about me?” he asked, voice growing deeper, more imperious. You nodded, as best as you could with the pressure of his hand on your face, now carelessly holding all of you in it. “Use your words” Charles continued, his erection visible, directly in front of you, so desperate, so conflicting with how he seemed so composed and dominant. “Yes” you replied. Yet, this did not satisfy him in the slightest. His grip on you tightened, and a tsk escaped his lips as he shook his head negatively.

Your hand started moving faster, one finger now dipping inside you, which Charles did not fail to notice, but pretended to be unaffected by. Without warning, he pulled down his sweatpants, followed by his boxers, just enough to expose his erection fully to you. Letting go of your face with violent affection, he now gripped your hair as he held his cock in front of you. “Let’s give those pretty lips some other use since you don’t want to talk” he whispered, his tip now caressing your lips. “Open, princess” his tone was commanding, completely new yet so dangerously arousing. You promptly obeyed, shocked yet completely vulnerable before his own desire.

At first, Charles merely played with you, frustrating your desire to have him in his mouth, despite the fact that it frustrated him in the process as well. His grip on your hair got tighter and tighter, as this teasing game was clearly driving him insane. In a swift and quick movement, he placed himself fully inside your mouth, the warmth and wetness causing his body to shudder completely. You swallowed around him, feeling his desperate push to take more of him in. As you removed your hand from in between your legs to hold yourself on his thighs for support, he grabbed it, bringing it back to where it was. “Don’t fucking stop” he growled, almost incoherently. Having him fully inside your mouth, your nose so close to his navel, and hearing his authoritarian tone, caused a cry to escape your lips. You could barely think, let alone speak, now two fingers buried inside your wetness.

Charles movements were rough as he fucked your mouth relentlessly, your name leaving his lips as if in a chant, as you kept holding his gaze. “Tu es tellement doué pour ça, putain” French once again escaping his lips, giving away his lack of self control, as he unleashed himself completely to his desire. You couldn’t help but moan, your eyes teary with the pleasurable strength he was using with you, and you felt yourself close to coming.

Charles himself was close, but did not allow himself – nor you – to continue. Pulling out of you quickly, leaving saliva all over your now darkened and swollen lips, he did not hesitate to push you down on your bed, climbing on top of your body.

Impatiently, he pulled your pajama shorts and underwear off, whilst you pulled your shirt above your head, completely bared to him. Harshly and lusciously, Charles slammed two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out to prepare you for him. “So ready for me, fuck” he whispered, more to himself than for you, yet not caring if you heard it.

His already sweaty body shone in the near darkness of the room, satisfaction spread across his focused expression as he saw how your body yearned for his. Removing his fingers from inside you and placing himself between your legs, he pushed in inside you, his hardness filling you up completely. Your back arched instantly with bliss as your legs wrapped around him in an attempt to feel him even closer, as if such was possible. You were trembling from his scent, his breath and the sounds of your bodies on each other. His movements were fervorous and electric, a fast pace which burnt your vision and set your body aflame.

“Charles” your voice begged, as he continued his movements. Your voice worked on him as a reminder of how mad he was when it came to you, how much he needed to take his desire out on you, his jealousy released with each thrust. “Does anyone fuck you as good as me?” he asked, eyes closing slowly from the amount of pleasure he was feeling. You let out a crying “no” as he grunted, his face now buried in your neck, biting it hard.

A crazy thought crossed his mind, one which was more common than he could admit, one that he thought about frequently in the darkness of his room or even when he was trying to distract himself with anyone else – the thought of filling you up, claiming you as his. This was enough for him to be close, as your moans filled the thick air, and he felt so good inside you, enough to feel intoxicated by it.

“You’re mine” Charles let out, incapable of containing himself. His words caused your whole body to convulse with shockwaves of pleasure as you repeated “I’m yours” into his lips, his neck, your nails drawing patterns on his back. His hisses of pain and pleasure revealed how close he was himself, and he positioned himself in order to be able to look at your satisfied and sensitive expression of complete bliss. Charles erupted inside you with a final thrust that made you see fireworks, as the thickness of the air reached an all time high.

After a few seconds of chests rising and falling, breaths being caught and thoughts becoming clearer, Charles pulled himself out of you and laid next to you in your bed, grabbing the remote as he caressed your arm softly.

That movement, the familiarity and comfort of it, how different it was from the uncertainty of what you two were, to the nature of your ‘relationship’, to you still filled with his cum, suddenly made you want to cry.

You wished he would leave, complete the final act so you can repeat it soon, so things didn’t get complicated, complex and hard for you to do anything about. The frustration was enough for you to get up with a “I’m going to take a bath” in a tone he recognized – somehow – as unlike you.

Getting up from his seat, he followed you into the bathroom, where you stepped into the shower and turned the water on, ignoring his presence completely. You kept focusing on the water running down your body, how it resembled his own touch but not as fulfilling, as pleasurable. The sound of the water running incessantly calmed your thoughts, enough so that you could barely hear him come in the shower himself, turning you around so you could face him.

His expression was tender but nervous, aware of something floating along with the vapor of the warm water, fogging the mirror. Yet, he pulled him to you in an embrace in which you two remained for long, longer than maybe it was supposed to, longer than for it to be considered normal. Pulling away, his lips fell onto yours gently, in a kiss that possessed more words than both of you cared to admit.

You knew, then, that was all he could give you in that moment. And you did not know how to feel about that.

@cmleitora @marialovesf1 @champagneholland

[arminsumi]

no. 20 sfw with aki? just littering him with kisses before he steps out for work, not wanting to be separated <333

he has a whole house in my head, truly living rent free rn

#20

💗 Aki アキ

Note : my boy!! he is also on my mind lately and i itch to write for him but i always get distracted!! 😖 i hope u likey, i had this very specific atmosphere envisioned and i wonder if it came across lol

Playme : will i see you again?

🍒 More from Jay : LIBRARY / oct. reqs open

A smooth morning rolls out. Aki makes you and him some good coffee, slowly and meticulously as he always does it.

He finds you're behaving especially dreamy this morning; it makes leaving for work so much harder for him.

Aki carries out his morning routine with purposeful slowness, adoring how you follow at his side through each step. It's the small things that make him fall more and more in love with you, like the hypocritical scolding you give him about smoking and then proceeding to take a puff on his cigarette on the balcony. Or helping him tie his tie even though he can certainly do it himself. He just enjoys the small act of bending his knees to compensate for the height gap between you and him, being the 6'2 gangling giant he is.

He's the most talkative in the mornings, despite the rasp disturbing his throat. He tells you about his weird fucking dreams and feels fluttery that you bother to listen. ("We were in a cruise ship, right, and we couldn't escape the hallway and I was holding your hand and looking for a way out, and oh there was this octopus or something that wanted me to play sudoku...? It was some Alice in Wonderland type shit. I fucking hate sudoku, I can't believe I had to do that! And— why are you laughing? Okay well anyways... oh fuck... that's the time already?")

You swarm him with affection and kisses from the bedroom to the door as he tries to leave for work. His natural nonchalant demeanor betrays his true inner feelings, he's really relishing your attention.

You overwhelm his face with kisses and he happily accepts, closing his eyes to fully lose himself in the sensation of your lips pressing to his skin.

"I really have to go..." he says but you cut him off with a kiss.

"... I'm gonna miss the train." he holds back a smile as you cut him off yet again.

He attempts to leave, the door is open and the roar of morning traffic carries in the entering breeze.

"Wait a moment!" you pout.

You grab his tie to pull him into a hard cheek kiss, and it makes his stomach flip, to feel the press of your lips connect with his jaw and slowly upwards, as if you're printing your love on his face one kiss at a time.

It always happens like this; you pull him by the tie just as he opens the door to really leave, then he stays right there, motionless from how love struck your kisses have him. Truly a dazed man. And it's always the final cheek kiss that sets him off, he bows his head to give you those hard and passionate kisses that are his thing... no one can kiss quite like how an Aki in love does.

Kissing him off to work in the genkan chews fifteen more minutes off the morning hour, but it's worth it... he now heads down the street in the sunlight with a dreamy look on his face like he's just been pampered by a goddess.

[justporo]

Astarion making use of his skills to help Wyll

Shamelessly using this for an original post because I like the idea too much! Spoilers ahead, be warned!

So, as this post imagined (and thanks for @daedriclys for tagging me):

What if Astarion just went "ahem, I'd actually like to take a look at this legal document, thank you very much!" and went to help Wyll with his contract by Mizora.

I'd love to see how Astarion would take the opportunity to do something good for someone else because personal growth and redemption. Also this fucking devil can eat shit, Astarion's tired of people being forced into slavery.

So he fiercly interrupts and demands that Wyll will have at least a day to review the contract and when Mizora agrees through gritted teeth, the party gets to work: Astarion admits that he might be a little rusty and that he was shit at his job back then, but he's dead set on making this one thing right. (Also we know he knows history, so I feel it's not hard to imagine him being a bit scholarly and enjoying to learn things and figure stuff out - also he is smart!)

So he drags the whole party to where he knows is a Law library in Baldur's Gate and tries to find out everything on these kinds of contracts. He goes over the contract again and again trying to find ways out for Wyll while everyone else has turned into his research assistants (Gale is obviously his lead researcher because that man knows his way around a library). ("No, Karlach, it's 'pacta sunt servanda', spelled p-a-c-t-ugh, you know what, please let someone help you with looking for it!")

They spend the whole 24 hours to work out the best possible solution and when Mizora comes back her jaw is on the floor because not only did her plan not work, Astarion got Wyll some compensation and a severance-package worked out and might even sue. Also Astarion reads out every single term and condition and exactly decodes why it is shitty and wrong and why the wording could have used some work, all in his sassy little tone - while Mizora is fuming, but she has to listen to it, because formalities will have it that way.

And Astarion might play it down afterwards for just liking the challenge but he's actually so happy he could actually use his specific knowledge to help someone - and kinda remedy some of his past wrongdoings.

[itwdoris]

hi sweetheart i love u!!! im just thinking abt toji pissing our pussy before we go out:(((( and then cumming on it and making us leave the house like that, so we're all marked up and can only think about him the whole timeeeeee ughhhhh

just toji spreading your legs and pulling you closer to him, loving to see how your little hole tightens around nothing because he knows it's for him, that you're needing him to fill it up.

he'd said he'd take you out, he hadn't meant to mess you up before you got home later, but it was almost impossible when he saw you all dressed up, again, just for him. the way you looked at him expecting him to guide you, how your pretty voice called his name.

oh damn.

his pretensions had gone down the drain 'cause now you're lying with your legs wide open for him while he jerks at the sight, seeing your face all red and lips being compressed, swallowing moans. he won't go much further before the end of the night, but he'll certainly do something.

fushiguro's chest rises and falls rapidly thanks to his panting, a little sweat begins to accumulate on his forehead but it's not going to be bad, in fact his sweat is delicious. his hand moves up and down on his length tirelessly, purplish-red head crying whitish drops that drip onto your thighs and mount of venus.

you salivates at the thought of having you in his mouth, you can see his face full of pleasure, and you could give more, listening to him moan and growl, and he could be fucking you so good right now.

but not yet.

no, toji isn't that impatient, he'll do it when you get home later, he'll make up for everything you made him feel all night long, compensate for the way you make him feel like a fool with a racing heart and a hard cock. but for now he's just going to make it simple.

simple so that others can know who you belong to.

you reach out your hand to touch him, feeling him grab it before you can, then taking you to his cock quickly, rubbing himself on it, pressing your pretty fingers against his base, against his own pulsating veins. until he started to slow down, slowly pushing in.

your confused face makes him come closer just to leave you a kiss, he's starting to get so slow now. he pulls away, letting go of your hand and breathing deeply and loudly as he close his eyes and tries to concentrate for a few seconds, looking at you afterwards.

murmuring that you shouldn't worry, toji aimed his cock at your exposed pussy, sighing relieved as small drops dripped onto your folds. too warm, too wet to be his cum, it wasn't.

the liquid began to gush out little by little, nothing too much, but still soaking your pussy with his piss. your breath escaped for a few seconds, a whimper caught in throat, your hands rushed to pull your clothes before they got wet too when you came back to the world.

with fushiguro looking at you in such possessive, almost proud way as he pisses in your pussy, while control himself so that he don't get you all wet, so that he don't dirty your pretty face that looks up at him so needily. he had tried so hard not to get hard again, but the way you raised your hips wanting more made him go crazy.

gulping, you saw his adam's apple move as he sighed, the flow slowing to just a few drops sooner than it should have perhaps, now with him moving his hands quickly and visibly tightly again. pulsing against his own fingers as you looked so eager to receive all his seed, wherever it was, tightening the fabric of your clothes.

so many dirty desires being created in his mind, he moaned, moving closer and leaning on one of his arms, staying on top as he continued to jerk in front of your folds. mark it, mark them.

you lean in to kiss the scar on his mouth, bringing your hands gently to him, wrapping them around him, tangling your fingers in his hair, a single drop of sweat falling against your cheek. toji. brushing your lips against his, enough to make him growl and devour you with his mouth, cumming all over your pussy.

hot and thick being shot repeatedly against your folds, you can feel it running down, so good, making you moan. you pull away a little just to try and look, feeling him stand up and look at you that way, the way he looks when he just finishes cumming, so pretty panting.

"put on your panties." slurred and deep. you don't even know where your panties are. toji only gave his cock a few lightly shakings before tucking it into his pants as if nothing had happened. "we're still going out." he approached just to leave a kiss on the corner of your mouth, slightly smirking.

and in fact he found your panties, helped you put them on, so pleasurable as he watched his piss and cum dripping off you, when he noticed the fabric getting dark with wetness, a stain growing. knowing that you'd be like that for the rest of the night, for him to redo everything better later, rubbing the fabric while holding your face to kiss you.

think i lost track of the prompt about fifteen times on that one, oh lord... / also, so hot prompt-- loved it, love u too!