#Where one person is completely ‘reasonable’ while the other is off the wall

[forgetmenotnympho]

𐔌 . ⋮ hi ty .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

haiii i love u clark kent pleas3 take off ur shirt!!!!! holy shit who said that???

notes?: : ̗̀➛ clark headcanons, suggesstive maybe, working out, how's he hide his identity while being active

perspective?: : ̗̀➛third

°•☆•°

Clark Kent is a performative icon. I mean, when you're a superhero with a secret identity, you get pretty good at pretending- most heroes have got the acting thing down pact- Clark is no exception.

After nearly completely separating his usual, soft southern accent, fumbling, awkward, kind young man from his more practiced Superman persona. The absolute nerf of his southern charm was something to grieve, but it's okay.

Imagine Superman with his little Kansas, Smallville accent. It'd destroy the whole illusion, but it's attractive.

When he isn't suited up, patrolling the skies with his trained Metropolis city boy smile, Clark is trying to maintain his routine. He always keeps a notepad and pen on his person no matter where he is just in case there's a story he needs to capture. You never know what could happen on another beautiful sunny day in Metropolis.

What people fail to realize is that Clark simply can not wear sweaters to hide his physique all year ‘round. And sure, he could just use the good ol’ genetics excuse, but genetics can only take you so far. And when you look to see his parents are well… incredibly average looking people it's hard to believe the two of them produced a man well over six feet tall who was built more or less like a brick wall. He had to find an excuse, and the perfect excuse was getting a gym membership.

He only went once or twice a week, never too often, and never did extremely intense workouts. Why? Well, for one, he really didn't need to. Super strength and all. Secondly, Clark isn't supposed to be super strong. He's supposed to be average. The fact that he already towered over most people only helped him stick out like a sore thumb, so he did everything he could- every possible thing within reason to shrink himself.

This includes dramatized displays while lifting weights at the gym.

just like everyone else, Clark's forehead was slick with sweat (its probably mostly water he splashed on his face in the bathroom), his hair reacting by growing curlier than it was maybe an hour ago. his white shirt sticking to his muscles, making them more visible to the naked eye with every new movement. the grunted softly with the curl of his biceps with the 50lbs weight carefully tucked in his fist. he panted on the stair master, his head hanging low as he eyed the amount of time he'd been climbing that never-ending mountain. he gripped the handle bars like they were someone's bed sheets as his time came to an end. his chest heaving, hands running through his dark wavy hair pushing it out of his face.

when he lifted his shirt up by the hem to wipe his glasses off, and anyone could see the small tan line that sat on his hips, peaking out from underneath his shorts.

with the heavy barbell over his shoulders, he never disclosed the exact amount of weights on either side of the bar. He was careful not to be too obvious. as he widened his stance and lowered himself into a squat, after maybe five that seemed to be rather effortless, he began to show some signs of struggle. you know, it was really a sight to see.

shaky legs, soft grunts, and quiet moans leaving his lips, he's panting like a dog, his chest heaving with each movement. even his glasses getting foggy… wow. he always makes sure to squint when his glasses are removed for whatever reason to really sell the act. it's brilliant.

clark kent is a man who's just strong enough. he can help you change your tire, easily reach the top shelf, and help you rearrange your living room furniture. he can not do cardio. Superman, on the other hand, has super strength and super speed- he's just super human. everyone knows that.

𐔌 . ⋮ bye ty .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

[enneamage]

what do you think about tommy&dream situation as of right now? do you think tommy publicly cut ties with his "if youtubers were honest" video or intended to poke fun at dream and found out in his usual tommy-style? on the topic of the video, i partially view this skit as him being fed up and saying "fuck you" to twt users that try to control him and his humor. i leaned into this after he made an effort to emphasize how schlatt is his hero on the stream after

I want to walk back the post I did a little bit ago about how him saying that Florida was ‘too far’ was more likely a joke than an excuse because I think something changed around then. Don’t know what, but the friction between the time when he was excited to go to the Dream team house and pulling back really does look like a turning point in retrospect.

Tommy has become openly disdainful of Dream in public, which technically isn’t a change since he’s always picked a fight with Dream on some level, but now it’s entirely hostile. I don’t know if other people are getting this vibe, but to me Tommy seems to be coming off a lot more angry in general lately, in a way that’s a bit of a callback to when he was younger but with less Youth behind it.

Tommy has historically had a warped sense of what he is allowed to do to other people vs what other people are allowed to do to him, so I really don’t know what he expected when he put the video out cause-and-effect wise. I think that thinking of himself as being in the right really changes his view of what ‘should’ happen in situations, but his expectations are hard to read with the skit video.

Tommy did a couple streams recently and I’ve had to pick and choose what I wanted to watch since I run low on time, but I caught the product testing stream since it was short. At one point he talked about why he wanted to try reviewing products, and that he thinks he was too afraid to say what he really thought before. Now he says his attitude has changed, and he said something along the lines of: I don’t have anything much to lose anymore, and more to gain. This was mainly about giving Youtuber brands ‘honest’ reviews (calling Prime trash, valid) but something tells me that he’s taking that attitude to other areas as well.

Tommy seems close to acting out lately. I’ve mentioned a few times before that I’ll often mentally compare him to other people with his habits who went on to be critics / reviewers / pundits, but right now his impulses are really un-refined and mostly based on being grumpy and testing things to their breaking point. If he really is in a “I’ll break it to feel more in control” headspace, I’m genuinely concerned with what he’s going to convince himself is a good idea moving forward, because even though he values having nerve he is just not good at criticism yet. He’s gonna say/do some dumb shit in public and get bodied. God he should have gone to uni-- anyway, sorry.

I think he’s going through a phase of being twitter-aware. There’s a subsection of stans that are egging on his public reactions and he seems more receptive to them right now. Some of the switch-up came after his tour where he seemed to come back from with more of an appreciation for his fans, but keeping up with the Big Name Fans is a whole different can of worms since that’s more of a power game/echo chamber than the general fanbase at large. Then again, the youtube comment section can be it’s own thing since they’re more likely to just want a spectacle. He seems sensitive to people leaving or disengaging with him so I wonder if a part of it comes from not wanting to give up the fans (or friends!) he has left by coming down on dream, since the last time he fucked up on stream involved a snapchat joke.

There’s big holes in this story around what Dream and Tommy’s direct communication has looked like in the past year. That feels like the most important bit that we’ll probably never get to see, so it’s all half-informed stabs in the dark from me.

[uravitypng]

𝐢'𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

pairing: bakusquad x chubby reader (katsuki bakugo + hanta sero + mina ashido + eijiro kirishima + denki kaminari)

word count: 4.4k words

a/n: definitely haven't been working on this for months <33 this turned out more fluffy than intended for a free use fic asdfghj. basically they all need to be dating!!! none of the bakusquad have any contact with each other... yet... idk i might make a part two where they're not just taking turns but all together with the reader

content warnings: free use, unprotected vaginal sex, oral (f!recieving & m!recieving), vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, cockwarming, groping, biting, dumbification, slight breeding mention, somno, wlw, spanking, petnames - mdni (like my whole tumblr)

when becoming friends and roommates with the bakusquad you didn't realise what it would exactly entail. becoming friends with five successful pro heroes while you're a civilian is something you would never expect, not in your wildest dreams, so it's not a surprise to you that your feelings for them grew with each day and after a particular turn of events you let them use you however they wanted. if they want to take out their frustrations of a stressful day by roughly fucking you than you're more than willing to oblige to their request or if they want to tenderly make love to you after an emotional and exhausting day you're more than willing to oblige- you're their toy after all.

they'll use you anywhere and anywhen, it doesn't matter if you're in public or if you're sleeping, you've given them your full consent.

the first time it happened was with katsuki. he was angry and annoyed and you didn't know what to do, you've never truly seen him like this before and you haven't been friends with him as long as the others have been friends with him, you didn't want to make it worse. ideally you would ask the others what you should do but they were all busy working.

you later found out a journalist cornered him after a minor rescuing incident and asked him more intrusive questions than normal and that day it got to him more than normal too. for some reason the press always seems to ask him more personal questions than other heroes you know and you can't figure out why but you have a few ideas: to see his reaction, to get more information about his private life from him because he's one of the more secretive heroes, or to see his 'real' personality wondering if everything they see in public is all just an image.

"i'm sorry katsuki. is there anything i can do to make you feel a bit better?" you ask him and in less then ten seconds he's pinned you against the wall and is biting your bottom lip making you moan, giving him the opportunity to move his tongue into your mouth, intertwining your tongues and muffling any surprised noises that threaten to come out of you. you feel his large callus palms run all over your body as he pushes up your shirt and touches every single part of his skin he can get his hands on, leaving bruises and pretty marks to decorate your equally pretty body.

katsuki shoves his hand underneath your underwear, not bothering to take off your clothes and fingers you until you start screaming his name and your vision begins to go blurry.

"holy shit katsuki. feel's so good." he pumps two of his thick fingers inside of you and his ego soars as he not only feels how wet you are but hears it too as your cunt squelches and you clench around his fingers. he smirks as you come undone on his fingers chanting his name over and over again, your fists gripping onto his shirt tightly.

"this'll make me feel better," he grunts and tries to press his body closer to yours than it already was, your tits now completely pressed against him. "god shitty woman how oblivious can ya be? swear you're useless sometimes. a fucking dumbass." if you were someone else you might have taken offence to him calling you shitty woman or useless especially in the position you're currently in but you're use to him calling you names by now knowing he doesn't mean them negatively, if anything they're affectionate, most of the time he'll call people extras and you're glad he doesn't see you as an extra.

"oblivious?"

katsuki grits his teeth, "shut up," he grunts and you feel his hardened cock against your thigh, he slams his lips against yours again and starts kissing you even more furiously, if you didn't know better you'd say passionately but you don't think he'd ever kiss you passionately.

he sees your eyes glazed over with a daze on your face and smirks. his hand goes behind you to cups the curve of your ass then slaps with the sound echoing against the walls, making you whine. you feel the humidity that's resting on his palms and your whole body tingles imaging him using his quirk (controlled) on you.

"no one else has made ya feel this good have they sweetheart?" he asks gruffly already knowing the answer.

"no, no one else 'suki. no one has ever made me ever feel this good!" you reply honestly, tears starting to fill your waterline.

he knows you're being honest and if anything you're being more forgiving of your previous sexual encounters and talking more favourable about your past sexual partners than they deserve. "fuckin' criminal."

after what happened with katsuki you sat down with your friends and told them that you give them your consent to use you whenever. katsuki looked so much calmer after and his body looked more relaxed, less tension. you couldn't help but think that your other friends would be the same.

you were bashful the whole time while speaking, mumbling and looking away, your whole face felt like it were on fire but you were offering to help them all, you knew how stressful their work is and you wanted to help.

you want them, you wouldn't tell them that part though, neither did you ever have to think hard on your proposal.

all of them loved the idea, why wouldn't they? they're madly in love with you. over time all of them fell in love with you but none of them would ever make a move on you not willing to lose or jeopardise the friendship they have with you nor are they willing to make a move while knowing how the others feel about you either. you're sweet, and kind, and beautiful, and brilliant, and a hundred million more things that make you special in their eyes.

none of them thought they would ever get the chance to be with you in any such way, romantic or sexual, and they were more then content with being your friend, strictly platonic, but now they get to be your friend and they get to sleep with you, they're ecstatic.

hanta likes cockwarming with you, every single chance he gets he pulls you onto his lap and onto his cock without warning and puts on a movie to watch as he watches you squirm and try to keep still but it's so hard keeping still when the longest dick you've ever seen is inside of you and you feel it throbbing.

hanta sees you struggling and grins as you shift around and whimper quietly. you're biting your hand to try to keep silent but it's ineffective. "hush princesa, i'm trying to watch the film." he says teasingly, holding onto your plush waist to keep you from moving and lifts up your top, caressing your soft skin making you get goosebumps from the sensation of his cold rings touching you.

occasionally he'll lazily thrust up into you, making you squeak, he'll chuckle at the noises you make and get off on how needy you are for him. "you look so beautiful sitting on my lap mi amor," your heart flutters and your face heats up whenever he calls you affectionate names in his first language and especially when he calls you my love, "but aren't you suppose to be pleasing me? you seem very needy and demanding for someone who has offered their body to me." you shudder as he speaks, still with his hand caressing your body.

you look at him and pout, causing his grin to widen. "not my fault, you feel really good."

hanta's voice drops lower and becomes husky while he leans closer to you, "yeah?"

you nod your head and try to wrap your arms around him, admittedly unsuccessfully from the position you're currently in as you're facing away from him to 'watch' the movie with him, making hanta chuckle. "yeah," you reply.

hanta smirks as he looks down at you over your shoulder and tenderly strokes your arm, "beg me to move." with no hesitation you beg.

with everyone else they'll take what they want from you and get you to come as many times as they want (if they do want you to cum) without you having to beg but hanta is different, he'll make you cry and beg for him. no matter how horny he is he'll wait for you to become putty in his hands as you cry buried in the crook of his neck, trying to grind against him and wetting his shoulder with your tears, pleading for anything he gives you. he loves seeing you cry for him and plead for his cock.

you're always so pliant for him and he likes to make you even more pliant. as your reward for listening to him he grabs your wide hips and starts to move you up and down, harshly, making the ability to breathe leave your body momentarily at the sudden movement all while cooing at you, albeit condescendingly. "awe does that feel good princesa? you finding it hard to take it all?" he grins as you tip your head back and rests it on his shoulder, your moans getting louder, unable to respond and form a coherent sentence.

you feel like you feel him all the way in throat, a completely impossible thought of course but it's hard to think otherwise with each time he slams you back down and your pelvis meets his it's making you lose every braincell you have with how good you feel and how good he fills you up.

"open up," you compliantly open your mouth still in a daze and hanta spits in your mouth, grinning as he watches you swallow it without any prior audible command to do so already knowing from previous liaisons.

his pace changes, every so often becoming quicker with shallow thrusts than back to a regular pace with deeper thrusts just to tease you and make you light headed, not knowing what to expect next. his groans become more audible and he grips onto you tighter, his blunt nails making a crescent imprint on your hips. "s-shit hanta i can't, too much."

"i thought you were my good girl. you were begging for me only awhile ago." he smirks, starting to get close.

"i am! i am your good girl, promise! just 's a lot."

he chuckles at your obedience, you really are his good girl, made for him- and the others.

but he does wonder if you're that obedient with them as you are with him.

he purposefully slows down his pace and wraps one arm around your supple middle keeping you bouncing and tilts your chin up to look at him with his other hand before placing a gentle chaste kiss on your lips.

mina seizes every opportunity to lay lingering wet kisses down your neck all the way to your chest. you get goosebumps as you feel her breath against your skin and feel the sticky lipgloss left over from her lips.

mina never wears lipstick but she's nearly always seen wearing lipgloss and they're always flavoured ones, enjoying the look of how the sticky remnant remains on your skin after being transferred from her lips and how you seemingly unconsciously swipe your tongue out over your own lips afterwards to taste the flavour that remains.

whenever a man comes onto her apparently not understanding the word 'no' she comes straight to you afterwards so she can feel you up and touch your soft body and curves. you're so much better than anyone else and she's so glad that you let her touch you however and whenever she wants.

beforehand when someone was so persisted that it grossed her out she still would come to see you, you were roommates and very close friends after all. mina would complain about them and you would listen and bash them because how dare they keep being so disrespectful, unable to be take a hint or handle rejection.

the entire time when mina used to talk about them she'd think about how soft your lips looked, how good her hand would look wrapped around your throat and how she wants to go down on you so bad that you pull her hair and more importantly squeeze your thighs together in between her head.

"such a sweet little thing for me," she tells you and kisses your ankle. you whimper and she opens up your thighs wider for now, wanting to get a good look at your pretty pussy. mina flicks her tongue up against your pussy lips making a shiver run down your spine before her tongue enters into your soaking hole, moaning at your taste and your aroma, making her dizzy in the process. you can't help but squeal and shudder at the sensation as her eyes gleam with every new noise you make. she removes her tongue from inside of you, the sweet taste still lingering on her tongue. she flicks her tongue up again, curling two fingers back into you and starts sucking on your clit.

the pleasure builds up inside of you with every curl of her fingers, "that's a good girl, come for me," mina mumbles against your clit and you squeeze your thighs with mina's head between them, not being able to stop yourself as you're about to come again for the third time in an hour.

"oh fuck, min-" the last syllable of mina's name is silenced in an inaudible groan as the coil in your stomach snapped and you unravelled where she helped to ride out your orgasm still between your doughy thighs.

now she gets her wish whenever she wants as she's able to look up to see how your voluptuous body shakes. she gets to feel how soft and warm your thick thighs feel wrapped around her head.

as you calm down from another intense orgasm you move to look at mina, "what about you?" hinting that you desperately want to return the favour.

she can see the neediness in your eyes and giggles. "i can't right now sweet pea, i've got to go to work."

"already?"

mina giggles again, "i'll be back soon babes then we can carry on from where we left off, okay?" she smiles brightly and takes her leave feeling equalling as needy as you but who can blame her when she spent the last hour pleasuring you and feeling your plump body underneath hers and getting you see your gorgeous face scrunched up in pleasure. mina doesn't mind the needy feeling though as the look on your face is worth it as she leaves because she knows when she comes back home you'll make her feel just as good as she made you feel.

eijiro works nights a lot of the time which means typically you get woken up by him. this means most nights you sleep with only a nightie on or a baggy pyjama shirt foregoing underwear or pyjama bottoms so eijiro doesn't have to worry about fiddling with any layers and pulling them down. the only exemptions about the clothes are when it's particularly cold that night.

after work he'll want to feel your soft body squish in between his fingers as he presses down on your malleable skin, groping you wherever he can get his hands on and pumping his girthy cock in his other hand a couple times, wanting to be buried in that sweet cunt that he loves so much so it's no surprise to you to be woken up to his grunts and gentle thrusts.

whenever you do wake up he feels guilty. he knows you need, and like your sleep and he never intended to wake you up so he strokes the sides of your body and softly tells you to go back to bed while kissing your temple.

sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't, but no matter the outcome of trying to get you to go back to sleep your body always has the same reaction, mewls and moans leaving your body involuntarily and you becoming more and more wet with each thrust that it's dripping down to your thick thighs.

the times when you don't fall back to sleep you don't move much, very much a pillow princess in those moments but that's what eijiro prefers. he likes looking after you and treating you like the princess you are. he enjoys doing all the work so when you do wake up all you can do is rub your eyes sleepily and moan louder while he tries to shush you because no doubt someone has to be up in a few hours for patrol.

"p-please," you whine but you don't know what you're begging for. eijiro knows though as he pushes the remaining inches of his cock inside of you, you both hiss, and he slowly and deeply starts moving in you. you grab hold of his muscular forearms and whine about the pleasurable stretch.

you turn your head to the side so your neck is bare. he knows what you want more than your tired words can mumble out so he turns your neck further to the side than you did to keep you still and bites down, not hard enough to cause serious pain and break your skin but enough to hurt slightly and cause you to gasp, your mind momentarily going blank and your hips to jerk up.

before you started sleeping with eijiro you didn't know you liked the sensation of getting bitten so much until he bit you to keep himself quiet while at a very lively party. normally he wouldn't mind people hearing how good he makes you feel and vise versa but there was a minority of people at that party who were all trying to make a new hero commission and he didn't want to to draw attention to you or him with those people, knowing what the last commission did. even though you are just a civilian he wants to make sure they stay well away from you but still that wasn't enough to drag you into an empty room and fuck you until you couldn't stand after seeing how beautiful you looked that night.

ever since then biting became involved in your sex life. eijiro knew he liked biting people before you, he enjoys the surprised gasps and how bodies move but with you it's completely different, it's on a whole new level with how plump your body is, it's like heaven. no matter where he bites you there's always some part he can sink his teeth into making your body beautifully buck up uncontrollably. the whole experience and sensation making him groan and the noises you always make in bed are like no over- ethereal, just like the rest of you.

when he hears the slapping sound of your two bodies making contact get louder and louder and sees the creamy ring left over from each thrust he has to hold onto you tighter, gripping hold of your love handles, enough to leave bruises, and looking up at the ceiling not wanting to cum yet. he knows as soon as he looks down at your cute face or perfect body he'll immediately orgasm so to try and make himself last longer he'll look up.

that on top of the quicker pace and him touching your clit, just the way you like it, makes you come. you clench around him and moan words incomprehensibly causing him to come too as he feels you get tighter around him.

"gonna clean you up in a second baby just let me stay inside you for awhile." at this point you're both falling asleep, he wraps his muscular arms around you tighter and manhandles your chubby body so you're laying on top of him, your arm on his chest and your face in his neck, the whole time making sure his dick doesn't accidentally slip out of you. even though you're semi conscious you know that you're going to be sleeping like this all night, both of you are too tired to move, with your last moments of consciousness being your slow blinks that you use to gaze up at eijiro admiring how handsome he is, you like when his hair is down after showering because without it being styled to be spiky you can see his roots coming through, red mixing with his natural black, even now when he's half asleep and ready for bed he looks just as handsome as he does at any fancy hero event he attends. "you feel too good to get up and leave and anyway i've got to plug you full, breed you properly to make sure it sticks." he mumbles against your forehead half asleep, drifting off only a minute or so after.

out of everyone denki is the one to touch you the most, if no one else is kissing you he's taking the opportunity to kiss you and hold you all over. he's the most emotional and vulnerable when it comes to sex too. he feels safe around you, to let his carefree persona down and to be sensitive and vulnerable, just staying fully in the moment with you.

the first time you slept together, you kissed his chest all the way to his hips making his hips buck up. he had wanted you so bad for so long and now he finally had you.

originally, you had stroked his cock for the first time and you heard a string of moans and it immediately turned you on more than you already were. as he got closer to his release he said breathy, "please don't stop, this will probably be the only chance i ever get to touch you." it had shocked you not realising that he felt that way but you didn't stop, doing what you were told, and knowing you were going to talk to him after.

not long after, he came and you threw your arms around him, arms wrapped around his neck and clinging onto him. he was still catching his breath, "do you really think this was a one time thing denki? i told you all before that i want to do this." he blushed and squished your cheeks, a habit he had picked up on doing recently at the time, you swat his hands away and giggle, denki smiles.

denki is also the most possessive which surprised you, if you thought anyone would be possessive your guess would be katsuki but it's really denki. he gets jealous when you spend more time with the others than you do with him and will want your attention. it's even more noticeable when it comes to other people who aren't in the bakusquad.

if you ever smile too cheerfully at someone, laugh too loudly at someone's jokes or if someone flirts with you he gets extremely jealous, you never flirt back though, you have everything you need and sometimes you don't even realise they were flirting in the first place.

at times like that denki is the most vulnerable. as soon as you both get home he's kissing you tenderly and holding you like fragile treasured glass in his arms. most of the time he takes you to the bedroom and lays you on the bed but this time he pushes your head down gently and you fall to you knees carefully. "do you need a cushion babe?"

your heart warms at how considerate he is. you look up at him and shake your head, "i'm okay," you smile up at him and you don't miss the way his cheeks are dusted pink. unzipping his jeans and pulling them down, along with his boxers that already are wet with precum leaking from his cock, you kiss his thigh and stare at his .

denki holds onto your head as you part your lips and open your mouth, taking him in your mouth. you hollow your cheeks and grab a hold of his thighs. he keeps his hips still no matter how much he wants to rut inside your wonderful wet and warm mouth. when his hips do occasionally buck it makes you gag before he corrects himself and pushes back against the wall trying to control himself not to pound up into you, he wants you to control the pace. the moans that he makes as you take him further only spur you on as your pace gets quicker and your nose presses against his lean stomach momentarily before having to leave and gasp for air. denki may not be as thick as eijiro or as long as hanta but he's still big, more than people would assume, he's bigger than average (only if slightly.) denki's arm rests of his head while he takes deep breaths.

"fuck babe that was-" you cut him off as you take him in your mouth again and wrap your lips around him and you hollow your cheeks once again. his moans and groans become more frequent and you can tell that he's about to come.

his grip get's tighter while resting on your head and his groans get deeper. "gonna come, you swallow alright babe." you hum in confirmation, "shit, shit, shit," his eyebrows pinch together and his hot cum sprays in ropes at the back of your throat and you mourn not being able to properly fully taste him. denki lifts you up by your elbows and when you come face-to-face you kiss his cheek, he's not satisfied with that though and he passionately makes out with you not caring that he just came in your mouth and is holding onto your plush waist while grinning against your lips. "bedroom." he whispers in your ear making you shudder at the demanding tone he used, not often does he use it but whenever he does... well it makes your whole body tingle.

[elliesglock]

okay so i'm gonna preface this by saying, i haven't wrote an analysis for a bit so im sorry if im a little rusty but im trying to rebuild my masterlist. hope you guys enjoy, happy reading 💕 always remember to lmk anything i forgot as well!

the lives starts off with aubrey and crackhead kk just doing shit. just being bad. they're giving a dorm tour and decide to go to another dorm where everybody's kinda hanging out.

when they walk in, immediately ines comes firing saying kk and aubrey are assholes. which says to me that none of the people in the dorm they're walking into know they're on live. therefore, azzi clarifies with kk and aubrey if they "are still on live" because for reasons i will get in soon she wants to make sure she ain't going to say nothing incriminating. as soon as kk sets her phone down she goes in the back kinda whispering to azzi which brings me to my theory (it's kinda not a theory cause it gets confirmed later) that this entire live azzi is on ft with paige. azzi kinda calls kk over and kk realizes she's on the phone w her girl. this is able to spearhead mission annoy tf out of azzi with aubrey and rope in paige while they do it. will explain in a sec as well. they whisper and act super completely normal (spoiler they don't but they think they do). azzi has her laptop opened and is shopping? with ines for something but ig ines is being indecisive cause this whole live she keeps giving options for things and ines can't figure out what she wants. i just find it funny in general that pazzi are literally 8 inches from each other and STILL facetiming. like personally im not doing that with my friends id just text them. now this might be delusional but theres a moment where the comments see azzi and they're like ohhh she's so pretty! and kk points this out and tells azzi they said you're so pretty...and yall why i lowkey hear paige flying off the seat of her pants on facetime jealous as hell. now this alone really wouldn't convince me she was talking but everyone's reactions are lowkey so not nonchalant cause why kk hooting and hollering saying "ohhhh!!" and giggling as soon as i hear paige's voice? girl what was she saying? she was cussing some little twelve year olds out huh? what also convinces theyre on facetime is the fact that azzi is talking and holding up a conversation while everyone around her is not talking. so obv if no one is talking back to her that we can hear she's having a conversation on her phone. most likely with paige. i lowkey think paige is helping azzi out with whatever ines wants or is doing, because there's moments you can hear paige talking while everyone has their mouths closed. like look at them helping their first born pick out her outfits aweeee.

now when they turn this game on it starts getting chaotic as hell so just bear with me. i'm trying to listen to background convos while these mfs got their tv on 85 burning the paint off the walls so. during about 17:55, it's silent enough to hear FOR SURE paige is on the phone. she says something about glasses and we know how her minnesota ass says glasses. which tells me that that whole time azzi was helping out ines paige was in the conversation too. now what they were doing i have no idea. now, i think the shopping or studying or whatever was happening near azzi is done, everybody disperses and moves or leaves.

now rhis next part blows the fuck outta me 😒 a comment asks, "where's paige?" to which kk answers "minding her business!" immediately you hear azzi in the back go paige! and it almost sounds like she's saying it to her phone and she lowkey sound irritated like why is anybody bringing up my girl. kk and aubrey catch this tone and decide yeahhhh it's time to troll tf outta her rn. aubrey kinda makes a teasing remark to azzi like, "yeah where is she?" hinting at the fact azzi is on the phone with her and knows EXACTLY what's she's doing and where she is. aubrey is doing that annoying friend thing where she's maybe teasing azzi for being on the phone with her girlfriend and trying to be sneaky about it. now i think azzi over the teasing cause aubrey asks to say hi to paige on the phone (basically confirming that paige was on the phone the whole time) and azzi says, "i'll twist your knee into the thing!" before handing the phone over to her. aubrey gets the phone from kk and blows an air kiss to paige. she watches the phone and you can hear paige whispering. i personally think she's asking what azzi is doing or how she's acting. cause aubrey immediately looks up at azzi and smiles like she knows paige is trying to see if azzi's mad at her. and then aubrey, not giving up on the teasing, says "i told you i miss you man!" really loud into h the phone, immediately looking up to watch az's reaction. i think they tryna tease azzi but acting like azzi and paige do on the phone. but personally that's just how i read the situation and in my head i feel like that's what their behavior is showing me. now aubrey hand the phone off talking about "im being a menace" which girl we know but you better be careful around big az like im scared for you and even more scared for paige....

so kk and aubrey are talking about being menaces and paige sounds like she says, "what's she doing?" and they most likely flip the camera around. aubrey wiggles her eyebrows almost like paige is watching azzi and she knows she being extraaaaaa heart eyes central today. and in my humble petty opinion i bet azzi flips off the camera or says something and they all start laughing and gasping. but this parts iffy, paige could also be saying "ofc you do". now this next part is CRAZY ASF i think this is probably something you could use to convince deniers paige and azzi are together. so there's a comment that pops up that says "aww her girl otp" obviously implying azzi's on the phone with her girl. aubrey reads the comment and goes beserk and starts laughing and pointing it out to kk. kk giggles showing paige. we know she shows paige because her no survival instincts head ass goes, "yeah kk's girl on the phone." this is around the time azzi comes running up to the phone asking what the comment said. now this live we get some juicy juicy jealous/pouty azzi and she lowkey sounds like she's mad as hell. so paige and azzi are bickering back and forth cause u know she just gonna dogpile on azzi when she's pouty cause she, for one, has no self preservation skills and 2 she likes when her girl gets mad at her (kinky ass). paige being a lil sassy masc on the phone huffing and puffing mocking azzi and she says "take a break." to which paige replies, "take a big break!" in that sassy little tone of hers. i think she can recognize azzi's pouty and moody and doesn't like being made fun of so she's having fun watching her get all upset when she teases her. poor azzi girl i know when my girl teases me when im already about to jump and fly off the handle it makes me soooooo irritated but at the end of the day thats the good stuff. im sure they would rather be annoying each other all day than be apart and that's just the truth. kk makes fun of everybody asking for paige by saying its "pilates bueckers" and that's azzi's "cousin"

and it's so funny to me because if they were GENUINELY JUST FRIENDS they would not react the way they do. they'd be laughing adding onto the joke like they do with everything else but they don't. azzi most likely makes a fun and is like ewwww and paige goes "you sick." mostly because who tf wants to be called your gf's cousin? yuckkkk. now paige spends a minute just flaming the audience for no good reason other than she getting a ki off of annoying everyone on planet earth atm ig. so paige got some guac on ft and these hungry hungry girls see it and say oooo we wanna go downstairs and get some. azzi immediately stops what she's doing and is like im gonna come down there too in this threatening ass voice. now here's my theory. paige and azzi were talking about having a movie night on the phone you can hear them. so obviously azzi is gonna get annoyed when her friends go down to paige's room (where she was just about to go) to go eat. it's almost like she says "i'm gonna come down there too" to warn paige when she need to quit acting cute and get everybody out so they can have their cuddle sesh. basically hinting at paige, when i get my ass down there that means everybody need to clear out. i also think her voice just sounds so urgenttrrr, she's like waittttt not without me i wanna go downstairs and see my girl too just not with all yall in there. i think that's why she sounds so impatient/irritated. missing p-itis got her good.

so girl. after they go downstairs. all a mess. poor amari they was clowning on her guac so bad. so in between the puking and fighting for her life that kk's doing for 5 mins, i'd like to point out that paige really doesn't act like she knows kk is on live. kk kinda bursts in her room and is fake puking for some reason .... and she never really sees kk is still on live. i'll break it down more in my script but, we hear a little robot voice go, "call from azzi fudd." and it dings like paige picks it up. now yall why this bitch say babyyyy when she answers it. and then says hello. mind you she says baby in a weird voice but that's how she answers it. sigh my babygirl/baby paige agenda is thriving atm. now i'm gonna end this exactly how i thought azzi meant by when she said "im finna come down there too." kk is sitting on paige's bed and talking to her when we hear the door open. very obv you can hear azzi say, "cmon don't piss me off" like basically shooing kk cause she wants some time with her girl. and i jus imagine paige holding her hands up like what the wife says goes when kk looks at her. cause she know she damn wrong for how she was teasing and she's not trying to get in anymore trouble, smart girl. but also they just wanna spend time together too and i know that cuddle + movie combo SMACKED. i wish i was a fly on the wall.

suarrrr i know how much yall liked this analysis so i had to bring it back. sorry if it isn't the og but hey it's something! i'm also releasing the script for this live tonight about the same time i release this...thank yall!

[htchnr]

꩜ intimacy hc's 𑣲 B. POINDEXTER.

𖦹 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭. 𖦹 𝐛𝐮𝐲 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢!

「 ꜜrequest,, "i'd really love to see more of your intimacy hc's about Dex!!". author notes at the end. 」

「 ꜜcontent,, nonsexual cockwarming ⋆ ocd triggers ⋆ Dex's overall mental health ⋆ my personal thoughts ⋆ panic attack mentions ⋆ intense & obsessive cuddling. ꜜwc,, 0,9k. 」

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 𝐇𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐑. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!

𑣲 i saw someone post about this last week i think-- that they hc Dex to not be sexually attracted to people-- and i agree.

꩜ like he for sure enjoys the act with someone he's close with, but for emotional value and connection reasons-- being close and extremely intimate with you. i don't see him being a one night stand person AT ALL.

𑣲 back to my kissing hc from my fic-- in my eyes the press of a forehead to another, or the bump of a nose as much more intimate for him. he doesn't mind kissing perse, but he highly prefers the other mentioned ways.

꩜ needs, needs. to end and start his day with said way of kissing. a firm, but caring press of his forehead against yours while he nudges his nose against yours. if it doesn't happen at the start and end of his day, he spirals. like a compulsion he can't fulfill or a routine suddenly cut off. it drives him insane. and he can't calm down until his completed the action.

𑣲 on to possibly my fave hc, (besides this kissing one) cockwarming. while he does enjoy the act of sex, cockwarming doesn't count as sex to him. neither of you are having your needs fulfilled in the sense of 'releasing'. to him, it is the most intimate and deeply soothing position he can possibly be in with you.

꩜ your usual routine of soothing him out of a panic attack doesn't work? cockwarming. his day spirals because his image of you of your relationship briefly slips? cockwarming, while you hold him impossibly close and reassure him, over and over and over that it'll alright.

𑣲 it send every sense of his into overdrive-- being swallowed whole by you. your warm, wet walls suffocating him and leaving him with no room to entertain the scary or peace disturbing thoughts. neither of you usually cum from it, though if he ever needs the release, you never mind helping him through it.

꩜ for his birthday after being together for a while you gift him a usb stick with hours and hours of audio footage of you coaching him through various things. any situation you thought he could possibly ever get into, you've thought of it.

𑣲 a break in his routine? a bad trigger of his ocd? a really bad case at work that somehow ends up really bothering him? he somehow feels that you're distancing yourself from him? you've thought of everything, and then even more.

꩜ the moment he gets it and you explain, he downloads it all onto his phone. you laughed, warning him that his phone will run out of space-- but he didn't care. everything could run out of space, and he'd still find some way to make space for you and your help.

𑣲 keeps headphones on him at all times. ready to able to listen to the audio files at any given moment if he needs. sometimes, after a long day at work and a case he can't get home from, he'll just listen to a few just to hear your voice. slowly soothing him to sleep. and even of those moments you've thought of, filling the remainder of the storage with hours of idle chatter material of you talking about hobbies, or just the sound of you humming or singing as you do chores.

꩜ when he can't listen to the audio files? well, that's a time we all don't want to think about.

𑣲 is 100% a service switch. i think he has his few moments where he craves to be in charge, but mainly he craves your praise. lives to hear your voice praise him following your lead or your orders. he just wants to be good for you.

꩜ doesn't mind hand holding, but muchhhh prefers linking your foot with his when you sit beside him. it might seem silly or odd, but just a simple gesture of your foot resting on the other side of his is soothing. grounding.

𑣲 suffocates you in bed at night. you know he needs it, but it can be intense from time to time. he needs to be wrapped around you, and you have to face him. it's like he's got a sixth sense for it, cause if you turn away in your sleep, he wakes up immediately somehow. and he will either manoeuvre over you to your other side for him to face you, or turn your body or face to face him.

꩜ my last thought that i can think off at the moment, is his absolute love for doing your hair-- if you've got hair long enough to braid, it's one of his most favored ways of relaxing. you on the couch or bed, in front of him as he sits behind you and braids your hair.

𑣲 the rhythm of braiding the strands of hair really soothes him. though, it can most certainly also be a trigger for him. if the mental process of the braid feels off, he will do it over and over again and it soothes him instead.

「 authors note,, this was all that i've been able to think about while also being busy with other fics in my head 😅 but i hoped you enjoyed nonetheless! and once again, requests are open for Dex and Wade Kinsella! 」

𑣲 join the taglist ٠࣪⭑꩜.ᐟ

[opt1mistic]

PERVY ROOMMATE!JINX HEADCANONS

jinx x reader. cw: perv activities, some nasty shit, smut? yeah kinda? idk, masturbation(both jinx & reader), implied sub!jinx, fem!reader, mentions of reader using lipstick. not proof read so ignore any and all mistakes. note: im very bad at writing headcanons so if these suck i am so sorry i tried…..

pervy roommate!jinx who has a whole collection of your stuff in her room. she stores it all under her bed in a box. she doesn’t take it to be like a creep or anything, but also dont get her wrong she totally is, but she just likes you a whole lot. she has all kinds of stuff in there, from socks, to tissues with lipstick on them(like joe goldberg style)

pervy roommate!jinx who sneaks into your room when you’re not home and digs around in your hamper for your used panties. bringing them up to her nose, inhaling your scent, and stuffing them in her pocket. then she’s walking out of your room like she didn’t just totally take your dirty underwear. and the things she does with them—or i should say to them—are nasty, god awful even.

and if you’re asking ‘what may those things be?’, well let me tell you. she will take that pair of underwear and bring it up to her nose, pretending that it was your pussy that was there instead of your underwear. then, her slander and delicate fingers slid down her body, imagining that it was your hand there, and not hers.

it would move down her body with every deep inhale of the lingering smell of your underwear, letting the musk take over her senses. her fingers slipped under the her pants, and then her own panties, cupping her cunt.

slick slipping through her fingers as she held herself, putting pressure to her clit with the base of her palm, rubbing it in slight circles. “auhh…” flows out from her mouth. her eyes shut, and her hand is practically shoving your panties in her mouth. while the other hand is now moving down, and her fingers are moving into herself. deep and far.

feeling the tightness of her pussy around her digits, and the tips of her fingers hitting the spot where she knew felt good. “uuuh…” she moans out, breathlessly and quietly.

little yelps fell from her lips the more she played around with herself, juices leaking down her hand, wrist, and on to her sheets. she socked.

this was so wrong, but it felt too good to stop. tears of pleasure streamed down her face, singing moans of your name left and right. her orgasm getting colder and closer.

and finally, jinxs’ orgasm hit, cum falling down the, now empty, walls of her cunt, bringing her white coated fingers to wipe them off of your underwear.

she fixes her own underwear and pants, leaving her room and bringing back your panties and putting them back into your hamper, hoping that you wouldn’t notice the white satin covering them.

pervy roommate!jinx who’s room is right next to yours. the walls are as thin as paper, you could hear everything happening on the other side. she puts her ear to the wall to listen to your pretty moans as you please yourself. you’re not even moaning all that loud, but again, the walls aren’t thick so a noise above a whisper can be heard.

sometimes, when pervy roommate!jinx is feeling extra risky, she would come to the door of your bedroom, slid her phone under your door, not too much so you couldn’t see it, and records your moans for her own personal use later that night when you’re sleeping.

pervy roommate!jinx who has tons and tons of naked pictures of you in her phone. theyre all lock up in a folder, ofc, so no one but her can see them. and obv, you’re not aware that she has any of these bc most of them were taken while you were showering, completely unaware someone was taking pictures of you. and some were taken when she sneaks into your room while you’re asleep,(naked for unknown reasons), and steals pictures.

pervy roommate!jinx who gets off to every single on of those pictures with absolutely no shame in her chest. such an innocent thing, getting off, turned perverted by looking at pictures of the girl she’s completely and utterly in love with, obsessed with, on a level above normal.

pervy roommate!jinx who stalks the socials of the girls you have over(dont even ask how she found them) and gets so jealous, because how could you like them and not her? did you think they were prettier than her? or did you just not like her?

[ghostlynightpanda]

Haikyuu request for the Captain line? How the Captains would react to finding out the girl they like is the sister of one of the other captains?

Haikyuu Captains react to Reader being the sister of another Captain

A/N: Thank you for the request! I love writing for Haikyuu, so this was really fun.

content/warnings: Daichi, Kuroo, Bokuto, Oikawa, Ushijima, fem!reader, fluff, 3.785 words

Daichi

The Tokyo training camp was chaos—sweaty, loud, nonstop volleyball chaos. Exactly the kind of environment where Daichi thrived. As Karasuno's captain, he was used to being the calm in the storm, keeping his team grounded, focused, and out of trouble.

Which was why it caught him completely off guard when something—or rather, someone—made him trip over his own words.

You were Nekoma's manager. Sweet, gentle, helpful to everyone, not just your team. Always offering water, helping tape up fingers, tidying up volleyballs no matter whose they were. You had this warm, low-key energy that made the gym feel a little less intense just by being there.

Everyone just called you Y/N, so Daichi didn't think much of it at first. It was a cute name, sure. But that wasn't what caught him.

It was your kindness.

And the way you laughed when he made some dumb, tired joke after drills. The way you always had extra tape when he needed it. How you called him "Sawamura-san" with this polite but familiar tone that made his chest flutter in ways he was definitely not going to tell Suga about.

Daichi wasn't exactly a flirt—he was direct. And since you were always around during the camp, helping wherever needed, he found more and more reasons to talk to you.

"You're always looking out for everyone," he said one day, handing you a stray bottle you'd dropped. "Do you ever take a break?"

You smiled, brushing hair behind your ear. "I like helping out. I guess it runs in the family."

"Ah, older siblings?"

"Yes, my brother," she laughed.

You kept talking like that between matches, during breaks. Sometimes you even sat beside him while the teams were reviewing plays. Daichi didn't want to assume anything, but the way you smiled when you caught his eyes? Yeah. He was starting to hope.

Then came the Incident.

You were sitting outside the gym after practice, Daichi stretching and you handing him a cool towel, chatting about Karasuno's progress.

That's when Kuroo and Bokuto wandered over—loud, energetic, and very obviously up to something.

"Oi, little Kuroo," Bokuto grinned, slinging an arm lazily around your shoulders. "You forgot your clipboard again."

Daichi paused mid-stretch, blinking.

Little… Kuroo?

You groaned softly, taking the clipboard. "I told you not to call me that."

"C'mon, it's cute," Bokuto said, laughing.

"Wait, what?" Daichi looked between you three. "Little Kuroo? As in… related to him?"

Kuroo smirked, arms crossed casually as he leaned against the wall like he was waiting for this exact moment. "Yeah," he said. "She's my little sister. It's not exactly a secret."

Daichi stared. Then stared harder. Then back at you.

"You're… his sister?"

You gave him a sheepish smile. "That's why everyone just calls me Y/N—less confusion than when they used to call me Kuroo, too."

Daichi looked genuinely distressed. "No. No. That can't be right. You're—You're polite. And sweet. And you use inside voices. How did he happen to you?"

Kuroo laughed so hard he nearly fell off the wall. "You should've seen his face! I've never seen Daichi look like that! Absolute betrayal!"

"Don't take it personally," Daichi muttered, still stunned. "It's just... I mean, he's loud and obnoxious and always messing with people. And you're just—" He stopped himself before saying something sappy.

You smiled again. "He's not that bad. Most days." 

"I'm the best big brother," Kuroo said, puffing up, making you chuckle as you left, taking the empty bottles with you to refill them. 

Bokuto leaned in toward Daichi, whispering like he was sharing ancient wisdom. "She's like, the secret boss of Nekoma, bro. Good luck."

Kuroo grinned. "So. You were into her."

Daichi crossed his arms, trying to regain any shred of composure. "Maybe I still am."

There was a short pause.

Kuroo blinked. "Oh." Then he grinned wider. "I can't wait to tell Kenma."

Daichi sighed dramatically. "This is karma, isn't it? For that time I let Tanaka prank-call Fukurodani."

But when he caught your eye across the gym, your eyes soft and amused, Daichi smiled anyway.

Even if it meant dealing with Tetsurou, maybe this training camp wasn't so bad after all.

Kuroo

Kuroo Tetsurou had been crushing on Fukurodani's manager for a while now.

Ever since the first joint practice at their training gym, he'd noticed you. Calm, composed, always on top of schedules, hydration, warmups. Even Bokuto listened when you told him to focus—that alone made you worthy of eternal admiration.

But it wasn't just that you had your team in check. You were sharp, funny in this dry, quiet way that made him work for your laughs. And when you did laugh at one of his dumb little quips during a break? Oh, man.

Straight to the heart.

Everyone just called you Y/N, so Kuroo never gave much thought to your last name. Why would he? "Y/N" suited you—simple, chill, and low-key terrifying when you got serious about your manager duties.

You two had talked a lot over the course of training camps and matches. He was flirting, probably, in his very Kuroo way—dry comments, eyebrow waggles, a couple of "smooth" volleyball metaphors. And you didn't shut him down. Not once. If anything, you gave back just as much as he dished out.

He was planning his next move.

Until fate decided to destroy him.

It started on a completely normal Saturday.

He was headed over to Bokuto's house to hang out, maybe go over some training plans, maybe argue about who had the better spike form (spoiler: Kuroo thought it was himself, Bokuto disagreed. He wasn't a top ace for nothing). It was nothing out of the ordinary.

What was out of the ordinary was, who opened the door.

"Hi—oh. Kuroo?"

Kuroo blinked.

"…Y/N?"

You stood there in a hoodie and shorts, hair tied up, holding a bowl of chips like this was completely normal.

His brain short-circuited.

"Wait. Wait. Why are you here?"

"I live here," you said slowly. "Why are you here?"

"I'm here for—" Kuroo trailed off as realization slammed into him like a Bokuto back row spike.

You. Live. Here.

This is Bokuto's house.

You opened the door.

You LIVE here.

"NO." Kuroo staggered back a step, like he'd been personally betrayed by the universe. "No way. No actual way."

Bokuto suddenly appeared behind her, grinning wide. "Oh hey! You're early—oh wait, you didn't know?!"

Kuroo was still frozen. "You're siblings?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Same face, same eyes, same hair. Really thought you'd piece it together faster."

"BUT—why does no one call you Bokuto?!"

"Because we both respond to it," you said, deadpan. "At practice, they'd yell 'Bokuto!' and both of us would turn around. It got annoying. So now I'm just Y/N."

Bokuto slung an arm around your shoulder. "We're a power duo!"

"You're a walking psychological trap," Kuroo muttered, running a hand through his hair like he was rethinking his entire life. "I've been—flirting—with Bokuto's little sister. For months."

You shrugged. "To be fair, I was definitely flirting back."

Kuroo's heart gave a tragic little skip. "That doesn't help."

Bokuto was cackling. "This is the best day of my life."

"Do you understand what this means?!" Kuroo groaned. "If I date you, Bokuto becomes my brother-in-law! He's gonna give speeches at our wedding! He's going to show up in the delivery room when we have kids!"

Bokuto beamed. "I will! I'm gonna be the fun uncle!"

"I'm not ready for that timeline!" Kuroo wailed, sinking into the hallway like he'd just been benched permanently.

You laughed, setting the bowl of chips down before crouching beside him. "Don't you think you're getting ahead of yourself? Planning a wedding and future kids already when you didn't even ask me out yet?"

"I was gonna ask you out," he muttered, hands over his face. "Now I don't even know if I'm allowed to make eye contact with you."

You leaned in slightly, smiling. "Kuroo?"

"…Yeah?"

"I still think you should ask me."

He looked up, stunned.

Bokuto immediately gasped, clapping loudly. "DO IT RIGHT NOW!"

"Not with you here!" Kuroo shouted.

"Too late," you smirked. "I already said yes."

Kuroo just laid there on the floor, face in his hands.

"I hate everything. This Is Illegal. I've Been Set Up," he mumbled.

But his smile peeked through anyway.

Bokuto

Bokuto Koutarou had been to a lot of training camps. He'd seen a lot of managers. But nothing—absolutely nothing—prepared him for the moment he saw you walk into the gym at the summer joint training camp.

You were Karasuno's manager.

Confident. Calm. In control.

One sharp glance from you and the entire Karasuno team fell in line. Tanaka and Nishinoya? Silenced. Hinata and Kageyama? Moving like clockwork. Yamaguchi? Encouraged. Sugawara? Trusted. Even Tsukishima didn't have a single sarcastic comment when you spoke.

You ran the floor like a general, and Bokuto…

Bokuto fell.

"Akaashiiiiii!" he wailed later, collapsing onto the floor like he'd been hit with a love-powered spike to the chest. "I MET THE GIRL OF MY DREEEEEAMS."

Akaashi didn't even flinch. "It's been five minutes, Bokuto-san."

"She's so cool," Bokuto said, rolling dramatically across the gym mat. "She's got Daichi-level presence but she's NICE."

"She is nice," Akaashi said patiently, flipping a page in his notebook.

"And she looked at me once! ONCE!" Bokuto sat up, gripping Akaashi's shoulders. "I jumped higher than I ever have before! I might've touched the ceiling!"

"Impressive," Akaashi deadpanned.

And it was true.

The second you stood courtside during one of Fukurodani's practice matches, Bokuto ascended. Literally. His spikes got violent. His serve almost knocked Hinata over. The gym went silent after a particularly brutal cross shot, and you clapped politely—like it was no big deal—and that sealed it.

Bokuto glowed for the next three hours.

But the second you turned to talk to your own team—Daichi, or Hinata, or literally anyone else? Bokuto's performance plummeted.

"Bokuto-san, you missed the ball entirely."

"She was talking to Asahi, Akaashi! What if she likes the calm mysterious type?!"

"...So you abandoned the ball?"

"I wasn't emotionally stable, okay?!"

His moods became so intense, so you-focused, that not even Akaashi could rein him in half the time.

It was getting ridiculous.

But the final blow?

It came after a particularly close scrimmage, when Bokuto finally gathered the courage to talk to you near the water station.

"Hey, uh—Y/N-chan, right?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to look cool. "You're… really awesome out there. With the team. It's, uh. Inspiring."

You smiled, warm and unbothered. "Thanks, Bokuto-san. You're pretty insane on the court yourself."

He short-circuited a little. "INSANE?!! YOU THINK—Wait. Wait wait wait. Are you free after—"

"Y/N!" Daichi jogged up behind you, towel around his shoulders. "Let's regroup the team for cool-down."

You turned. "Got it. Coming, bro!"

"Bro?" Bokuto repeated slowly.

You smiled. "Yep. He's my twin."

...

...

"Akaashiiiiiiiiiiiiii—!!"

Ten minutes later, Bokuto was curled up behind the bleachers, clutching a towel like a security blanket. "He's her twin, Akaashi. Daichi. Captain of Chaos Control. Father-figure of Karasuno. The man has dad strength."

Akaashi sighed. "Bokuto-san, it's not—"

"He has all of them on a leash. Have you seen how fast Tanaka shuts up when he speaks? That's terrifying power. He could snap his fingers and Nishinoya would disappear."

"He's not going to kill you, Bokuto-san."

"But I'm emotionally unstable and I have bad impulse control. He's going to look at me and see a walking red flag! What if he forbids me from talking to her? What if he—"

You poked your head around the corner.

"Hey," you said, amused. "You okay? You kinda sprinted away after I said Daichi was my brother."

Bokuto stiffened. "Me? No, I'm—I'm fine. Totally fine. Just… stretching! Yep. Emotional stretching."

You tilted your head. "You scared of him?"

"…Yes."

You laughed. "Don't be. He already knows you like me."

"HE DOES?!"

"I mean, you yelled it through the whole gym… He said if you break my heart, he'll break your knees. But otherwise, he's rooting for you."

Bokuto blinked. "That's… sweet? In a terrifying way?"

"Very Daichi," you grinned.

Bokuto smiled back, cheeks pink. "So uh… would it be okay if I did ask you out sometime?"

You nodded. "Definitely."

He short-circuited again.

"Akaashiiiiiiiiiiiiii—!"

Oikawa

Oikawa Tooru wasn't used to getting surprised. He was the setter, after all—the master of prediction, timing, and reading people like open books. But there was one book he hadn't quite figured out yet.

You.

You'd met a few months back, totally by chance. You had been sitting on the bleachers during a friendly scrimmage between schools, sketching something in a notebook while the rest of the crowd screamed over spikes and blocks. Oikawa had spotted you instantly, because of course he had—pretty girl, soft smile, looked like she didn't care one bit that half the gym was vibrating from cheers.

He'd made his way over during a water break, flashed his signature grin.

"You're not here for the volleyball, are you?"

You'd looked up, surprised. "Actually, I am. But you move too fast to draw properly."

Oikawa had blinked. That… was not the answer he was expecting. You smiled then, and something about it—warm, easy, not at all affected by his usual charm—stuck with him.

You ended up talking a few more times after that. He found out your name: L/N Y/N. A quiet girl with a sharp wit. You didn't fawn over his popularity, didn't get flustered when he teased you. You just... saw him. The real him, not the pretty setter on the court.

He thought about you more often than he'd admit, even to Iwaizumi.

Flash forward to Spring High.

Oikawa was doing his usual warm-up routine, glancing around the gym out of habit—and there you were, standing just beyond the benches, wearing a Shiratorizawa hoodie that hung too big on your shoulders.

He felt his heart skip a beat. "She came."

He made a mental note to find her after the match. Maybe this time he'd actually ask her out. For real. Like a real date.

The match was intense—Oikawa vs. Ushijima, as always. Each serve felt like a battle cry, each rally a test of pride. He threw everything into his plays, determined to make every point count. And somewhere in the chaos, he caught you watching—cheering when Seijou scored, even biting her lip when Ushijima landed one of his monster spikes.

Cute.

After the final whistle, sweat dripping down his back, Oikawa wiped his face with his jersey and glanced toward the crowd.

Then he froze.

Ushijima had walked over to you. You handed him a towel and a bottle of water like you'd done it a hundred times before.

"Good game, Wakatoshi," you said, voice soft.

Wakatoshi.

Oikawa's entire brain came to a screeching halt.  "This is a prank. Someone's filming me. Is this 'Volleyball Hidden Camera: Crush Edition'?"

Wait.

Wait.

He stormed over before he even realized what he was doing. "Y/N-chan?" he blurted. "You know him?!"

You blinked. "Uh… yeah? He's my brother."

"WHAT?!" Oikawa felt too many years of volleyball-related trauma flash before his eyes.

Ushijima looked over, expression as stone-faced as ever. "You know each other?"

"We've talked," you said, looking mildly amused. "He's nice."

"Nice?" Oikawa echoed, pointing a finger. "You're Ushiwaka's sister?! But… but you don't even have the same name!"

You tilted your head, confused. "We have different dads."

Oikawa looked like someone had just spiked a volleyball directly into his soul. "This is… this is the worst plot twist in history."

Ushijima raised an eyebrow. "Is there a problem?"

"YES," Oikawa said dramatically. "Because I've been flirting with my nemesis' sister for months and didn't know it!"

You couldn't help it—you laughed. Loudly. That soft, clear sound that always made Oikawa's brain do backflips.

Ushijima, on the other hand, blinked. "If you have romantic interest in my sister, you should declare it with seriousness. Not shouting."

Oikawa nearly choked. "Wha—you—declare it?! I'm not challenging her to a duel!"

"You're not challenging anyone," Ushijima said flatly. "You're not her type."

Oikawa turned to you, scandalized. "Is that true?!"

You smiled, hands behind your back. "I haven't decided yet."

Oikawa groaned into his hands. "I'm never living this down."

From then on, everything changed. Every time he texted you, he imagined Ushijima reading over your shoulder. Every time you showed up to a match, he felt Wakatoshi's eyes drilling holes into his skull from across the court.

But here's the thing about Oikawa Tooru—he was nothing if not persistent.

Sure, dating your rival's sister was risky. Maybe even idiotic. But when you laughed at his jokes, cheered for him just as loudly as you did for your brother, and told him you believed he could beat anyone—even Ushijima—he knew.

This wasn't just a crush.

So one day, after a particularly grueling game, he marched straight up to Ushijima, heart pounding like a match point serve.

"I'm just gonna say it," Oikawa declared. "I like your sister. A lot. And I'm going to ask her out. And there's nothing you can do to stop me!"

Ushijima stared at him, silent.

"…Unless you literally spike me through the ground, which, honestly, would be a very Ushijima thing to do."

"I cannot stop her from choosing who she likes," Wakatoshi replied, shrugging. "But if you break her heart, I will break your spine."

Oikawa turned pale. "Right. Yep. Fair. Very fair. Not terrifying at all."

From behind, you stepped in and linked your arm with Oikawa's, smiling up at him like he'd just won a national championship.

And for the first time, Oikawa Tooru thought maybe this rivalry was exactly what he needed to play the game of his life.

Because love, like volleyball, was all about timing—and he wasn't going to let this be another match he lost.

Ushijima 

Ushijima Wakatoshi was not easily distracted.

He trained with focus. He played with precision. He didn't allow unnecessary emotion to cloud his mind—especially not during matches.

But recently, there was something… off.

Someone.

Or rather—you.

You were Seijoh's team manager. Diligent, calm, and sharp-tongued when someone like Matsukawa or Hanamaki tried to get out of stretches. You had a certain way of keeping the team on track with nothing but a clipboard and a mildly threatening smile.

And Ushijima had noticed you.

At first, he thought it was just curiosity. You were always the first one in the gym, setting up cones and water bottles before your team arrived. You didn't speak unnecessarily. You didn't hover around Oikawa or the rest of the team—you just worked. Efficient. Clean. Focused.

He respected that.

Then he found himself watching you during practice matches. Listening for your voice when you called out plays or passed towels around. He started lingering near the benches more often between sets. Occasionally, he even felt his heart rate increase when you glanced his way.

It was unfamiliar. Unwelcome.

Distracting.

But strangely… not unpleasant.

The real problem began when Shiratorizawa and Seijoh had a joint practice one week before the Spring Tournament.

Ushijima was serving, smashing ball after ball over the net with violent precision—until he saw you near the edge of the gym, leaning slightly on your clipboard, watching quietly.

He faltered.

The next serve hit the net.

The entire gym went silent.

"Tendou," Ushijima said quietly as they rotated, "something is… wrong."

Tendou, grinning like a shark, followed his gaze and smirked. "Oh. Ohhh." He leaned in. "You like her."

"I don't… know her," Ushijima replied honestly.

Tendou shrugged. "Doesn't stop people from catching feelings."

The full disaster struck three days later.

Ushijima arrived early to a captains' meeting for the Spring High planning. You were there already—organizing the refreshment table. You looked up as he walked in, offered a polite nod.

"Ushijima-san," you greeted.

"…Good afternoon," he replied, standing awkwardly near the table.

You didn't talk much—he didn't either—but it was comfortable. Or it was, until Oikawa strolled in with a dramatic sigh and dropped a hand on your shoulder.

"There you are, Y/N. Honestly, you need to take breaks, you know."

Ushijima's gaze snapped toward the contact. "You're… close," he said, frowning faintly.

You blinked. "I'd hope so. He's my brother."

There was a beat of silence.

Ushijima stared.

Oikawa blinked at him, then smirked. "Oh. Ohhhh. Ushiwaka-kun didn't know?"

"…Your brother," Ushijima said slowly, processing it like a complicated playbook.

You nodded. "Different last names. My mom changed mine after the divorce."

Ushijima's expression didn't change, but something in his posture shifted—like a mental equation suddenly broke apart. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Oikawa turned around slowly, eyes wide.

"Wait… what?" he asked, voice rising an octave.

You looked at him, confused. "I mean, you knew this."

"No, I mean — Of course I know that! But don't tell me you're the target of my lifelong rival's volleyball-glazed eyeballs!"

Ushijima blinked. "Your... what?"

Oikawa pointed a dramatic, accusatory finger at him. "You. You stay away from my sister."

"I haven't done anything inappropriate."

"You exist, and that's inappropriate enough!"

You stepped between them with an exasperated sigh. "Tooru."

"No, no, no, no—absolutely not. This is blasphemy. This is betrayal. This is—you're not seriously considering someone who's the human equivalent of a concrete wall with a jump serve!"

"Tooru," you said, firmer this time. "It's my life. You don't get to choose who I like. Or who likes me."

Oikawa stared at you, jaw slightly open.

Ushijima, to his credit, remained perfectly still—except for the tiniest twitch in his jaw when you said who likes me. He hadn't said anything yet, but he didn't deny it.

You turned to him, calm as ever. "Thank you for being respectful, Wakatoshi."

Oikawa made a gagging sound behind you.

Ushijima inclined his head slightly. "You're welcome."

You turned back to your brother. "You can scream into a pillow later, Tooru. But if you try to sabotage this, I'll make you run laps with Iwaizumi monitoring your form."

The color drained from his face. "Iwa-chan would never."

"He would."

"…Fine," Oikawa muttered. "But if he breaks your heart, I'm breaking his kneecaps."

Ushijima finally spoke, calm and absolute. "I would never hurt her."

Oikawa squinted. "I don't like you."

Ushijima shrugged. "You never did."

Masterlist

[mushroomsneedystuff]

Timeskip!UA Teacher!Izuku, Healer!UA Nurse!Reader

CW: smut (obviously), in Izuku's personal office, cream pie, unprotected (wrap it up beforehand yall. we don't want accidental pregnancies irl), mentions of highschool (but smut starts when you're both mid 20s), reader has a pussy (but no mention of gender)

*Feel free to tell me how to improve writing. I suck at it lol*

How did helping out the heroics teacher with grading turn into this?

You were helping Teacher!Izuku with grading since you luckily didn't have much work to do throughout the school day of being UA's new healer. You couldn't stop looking at each other, the tension growing between you both since the start of the school year. You both vaguely knew each other back from your UA days, and he was a frequent visitor of the nurse's office.

You used to help out Recovery Girl, aiming to be a healer based hero rather than someone out on the field. You were always in Recovery Girl's office, learning from her and helping her with minor injuries such as bruising and small, harmless cuts. You also took it upon yourself to try to spend time with the fellow students who had to stay and rest after Recovery Girl's quirk was used.

Izuku Midoriya was one of the main culprits of Recovery Girl's quirk. That boy got hurt more times than all the UA staff could count on their fingers and toes combined. You and Izuku both started to get to know each other better, and you were one of the first people to see him once he came back to UA for shelter after his vigilante arc.

Now, you're both back in UA. Izuku is the new heroics teacher, grumbling about students who "didn't know how to control themselves" while you understood fully well what he meant. You were the one to heal those who he specifically mentioned.

The tension through your school days had built up for years, and it was almost laughable how quickly you found yourself melting at his voice, at his gaze, at his sarcasm. It'd be funny if it didn't get you in your current predicament.

You were so easily picked up by him. Even if he couldn't be a "proper" pro hero anymore, he still had the body and build of one. He still went to the gym weekly, if not daily, and you weighed less than a feather in his eyes. Your body, held close to his and laid down onto his desk so perfectly, felt hot. Really, really hot.

Whether it was from the swarm of lust in your stomach or because his heated gaze was setting you on fire from the inside out was completely unknown. Both seem like fair guesses.

It didn't take long for the clothes to fall off, the office door locked securely. His pants were hazardously pushed down, yours completely discarded God knows where on the floor.

His cock was eagerly getting pushed through your wet cunt. It was perfect, both of you getting lost in the pleasure and letting go of the built up tension. His hips piston against yours, reminding you exactly of why he was a contender for being a Top 3 Hero in just his second year. His thumb fit so perfectly right up against your aching clit, making you dizzy enough to let out breathless moans of his name.

Any other thought except Izuku was completely gone from your brain. What were you even doing before? Did it have something to do with the scattered, ungraded tests on the floor? At this point, who fucking cared. Izuku's cock, stretching your walls so perfectly that it left you whining and moaning 'more' and 'too much' all at once, had completely scattered your sense of self anyways.

Grunts and groans of apologies leave the greenettes lips, but he didn't mean them. Why would he apologize for the reason of being able to finally hear his favorite symphony? Admittedly, he's been dreaming of it like he was a hormonal teenage boy since the first sight of you at the staff meeting weeks before the school year started. Every apology he said, it was really a thank you. A thank you for letting him feel your warm, tight cunt around his cock, and a thank you for letting him absolutely destroy you from the inside out.

His lips couldn't decide where to stay: on your lips, sucking your tongue, sucking and nipping at your neck and collarbone, glued to your breasts... There was just so many places he never wanted to pull away from, there were so many different things he wanted to try with your body (with your consent, of course).

He was fucking you like he couldn't decide if he absolutely despised you because you kept his precious pussy away from him or if he was so utterly in love with you because he finally had you in his arms and your his pussy was squelching lewdly with every thrust he gifted it.

It doesn't matter though, he'll have fucked you stupid and made love to you by the time the sun rises tomorrow.

The sight of your pussy squirting around his cock as he stills and cums deep inside you was just the alarm he needed to know it was time to bring his precious little healer home.

[kinkandkreep]

♡︎ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

♡︎ 𝑪𝑾: 𝑰𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒅𝒖𝒃𝒄𝒐𝒏, 𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒑𝒉𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒎, 𝑴𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒆𝒍 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒃𝒔𝒐𝒍𝒖𝒕𝒆 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒑, 𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒐 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒐𝒖𝒕

♡︎ "__" 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞

♡︎ 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・ ✧ :-.・゜

You hadn’t heard from your cousin or friends in 2 weeks.

Normally, you kept in fairly regular contact, but for the past 14 days it had been radio silence. 

You were almost too afraid to think of what that could potentially mean. 

Two possibilities were most apparent to you.

A.) Miguel had made good on his word and-...harmed your friends

B.) Miguel had made good on his word and frightened your friends and cousin so badly they’d been successfully coerced into cutting off contact with you

Either way, you knew Miguel had something to do with it. 

It also probably didn’t help that after he’d kidnapped you, he forced you to begin using the bugged phone. Even if you had talked to your girls, you assumed that Miguel would just be listening in on the conversation. 

You sighed, brows turning downward in frustration. You were tempted to just throw the damn brick at the wall, but, as much as you were ashamed to admit it, you were a little terrified of how Miguel would react if you were to destroy his means of tracking you while he was away. 

He would probably see it as a means of rebellion and obstinance, and might use that as justification to hurt you. 

Your arms were still bruised from earlier, and though the bruising on your wrist had dissolved, the skin was still slightly tender to the touch, the bone creaky and sore. 

You cradled the appendage in your other hand, sighing deeply. 

You tried to be positive about the situation to the best of your ability. 

It wasn’t all bad being with Miguel. He took very good care of you, when he wasn’t hurting you. He bought you everything you wanted and more, though you didn’t really care about material things. You still had access to the internet and television, albeit very limited. He didn’t allow you to sleep in the guest room as you’d requested, saying that “husbands and wives should sleep together, it’s only natural,” but at least his bed was very comfortable, and he said he’d let you redecorate however you desired. 

You could eat pretty much whatever you wanted, though you could only order out when Miguel was home, so he could monitor the exchange between you and the delivery person. He made you breakfast every morning, and it was always delicious, but he rarely ever let you make yourself anything involving knives, for several obvious reasons. 

It wasn’t all terrible.

Except for the fact that you no longer had any real autonomy, and there was a chance your best friends and favorite cousin had been murdered, which was, admittedly, a  couple pretty major things. 

“__! I’m home!”

A few days after your incarceration, Miguel had begun insisting that you greet him when he returned home from work or other outings. 

“As a proper wife should,” he’d said, expression flat and chin tilted upward. 

At first, you completely disregarded him, not even answering when he would call out for you upon his return. 

After a little while though, Miguel’s patience ran out. 

One day, he neglected to announce his return, and instead barged into the bedroom where you were, red eyes blazing with anger. Not even giving you the chance to speak, he snatched you up from the bed, dragging you out into the living room and tossing you to the floor. 

A quiet “oomph” sounded from you as you landed on your knees, the skin covering them burning from the carpet. 

“Why is it so difficult for you to follow simple instructions, __? I only asked you to begin greeting me when I come home from working to continue providing for you. Is that so much to ask?”

You didn’t speak, unsure of what might come out of your mouth in the moment. 

Miguel had begun pacing, a signature sign of either his distress or agitation. 

He stopped suddenly, bending down to grab you tightly by the shoulders, forcing you to look up at him. 

“Well? ¡Contéstame!”

You held his stare for a moment more, before finally beginning to speak. 

“You are…delusional, Miguel. I don’t even want to be here, stuck in this house with you. You think I’d honestly begin happily rushing to the door to appease you, when you’ve hurt me, and presumably other people that are important to me?! Are you insane?!”

You shook out of his now loose grasp, scooting back til you were on the other side of the room. 

“You’re crazy, and I want nothing to do with you.”

The two of you sat in silence for quite a few moments, Miguel being oddly still, not meeting your eyes. 

“Is that so?” Miguel’s voice was low, his breathing having picked up. 

You watched with wide eyes as he quickly advanced on you, not even giving you time to move before he’d snatched you up again, a single hand wrapped tightly around your throat. 

Your feet kicked in a panic, hands clawing at Miguel’s wrist. 

You knew he was strong, though you’d never seen his strength in action like this. You weren’t the lightest person, and for him to be able to lift you almost a foot off the ground singlehandedly was alarming. 

His gaze burned into yours, and you could swear that beneath the dark spots slowly clouding your vision, there was a sick sort of satisfaction causing a dull glow to emanate from Miguel’s red irises. 

“If you don’t want anything to do with me,” he began, grip tightening further, “then perhaps I should just…make you go away.” His expression remained scarily flat, his tone even more so, though his words shook around the edges. 

You could feel the energy steadily seeping out of you, and for a moment, you were genuinely afraid that Miguel was going to kill you. 

After a few more torturous moments, your vision dimmed to almost completely black, and you felt your body go limp. 

At the same time, Miguel finally released you, and you weakly dropped to the floor, sprawled out and exhausted from your ordeal. 

The much larger man crouched down beside you, leaning forward til his lips nearly brushed yours. 

“Never forget, that the only reason you still have breath in your lungs is because I give it to you. And just as I give, I can take it all away. You don’t want anything to do with me? Without me, you’d be nothing.”

He stands, leveling you with the most dismissive, scathing look you’ve ever seen on his face. 

“I’m not crazy, __. You’re crazy for thinking you could ever leave me.”

Back in the present moment, you shivered at the memory, hand subconsciously coming up to massage your throat. 

Looking at the time, you noticed that Miguel would be returning soon. 

Begrudgingly, you stood, dragging your feet out into the living room where you took a seat on the couch. 

“Any minute now,” you spoke to no one in particular. 

You sat there waiting for just a bit longer, before you could hear the telltale beeping coming from the front door. After a second, Miguel entered, an expectant expression on his face. 

Even after the encounter from before, you hadn’t quite worked up the fortitude necessary to actually greet him at the door, but at least now you acknowledged him. 

Miguel recognized this as a small victory and decided to grant you mercy accordingly.

In the moment, he turned to you, brow raised. 

You rolled your eyes, looking away momentarily before looking back to him. “Welcome home, Mig-...”

“Ah ah, that’s not my name. Not to you anyway.”

You glared at him momentarily, though it seemed to have no effect on the man. 

“Welcome home, Gigi.”

Miguel grinned, beginning to walk into your bedroom. 

“Muy buena, __.” 

You watched him leave, huffing angrily. 

He was so…infuriating. 

He tried to be almost unbearably sweet and accommodating while at the same time being more than willing to toss you out of a window if you said anything similar to him being “crazy” or you not loving him. 

He was crazy, as you’d said before. And it drove you nearly insane that he couldn’t see that his actions were wrong. 

So caught up you were in your thoughts, that you almost didn’t hear Miguel calling your name. 

“__!”

Your head snapped up, and in a brief moment of panic, you wondered for how long he’d been calling you. Seeing as you hadn’t been doing anything and seemed annoyed when he left, he probably thought you were intentionally ignoring him. 

You both knew how much of a poor idea that was. 

Quickly, you stood, making your way into the bedroom. 

Miguel was in the middle of undress, and you were sure he’d called you on purpose, to see what you’d, since the beginning of your incarceration at least, been denying. 

So far, he hadn’t forced you, but you didn’t put it past him. 

The thought made you shiver. 

“Yes Mi-...Gigi?”

You quickly righted your mistake at the eye Miguel gave you. He relaxed after a moment, turning back to what he was doing. 

“I asked what you’d like for dinner.”

You paused, knowing it was too soon to ask to go out, but also not really being in the mood to eat anything he made.

“Uh…I was thinking we could order out.”

At that, Miguel paused, turning and giving you a critical glare. 

“You’ve been wanting to eat out a lot lately. And always from the same place.”

Miguel began approaching you, shirtless and clad in only a pair of black shorts. You kept your gaze on his face as he stopped in front of you, expression familiarly, terrifyingly flat.

“Come to think of it, that same little delivery boy seems to be quite fond of you. Would be a shame if he became unable to continue making deliveries because of you.”

“MIGUEL!” The word shot out of you before you could stop it. You were beyond appalled at the implication, and beyond sick of him harming others and/or threatening to do so indiscriminately. 

“You are supposed to be a hero! You cannot threaten to hurt people just because they speak to me! That boy is a child, Miguel. He’s done nothing wrong and he is not a threat, regardless of what you think.”

You were breathing harder now, feeling an anger you thought had been worn out of you speedily rising to the surface once more.

“You will leave him alone, you will leave the rest of my family and friends alone. Get a grip Miguel! I’m so sick of this insanity!”

You hadn’t realized you felt so strongly, and you certainly hadn’t considered saying anything like this to Miguel’s face. You knew that once the adrenaline wore down, you’d probably be in for a world of pain, but in the moment, you couldn’t care. 

All this time spent having to bend over backward and walk on eggshells just to placate the volatile man and keep his temper in check had worn you down, and you were just…tired. 

With this realization, you deflated, plopping down onto the bed and rubbing a hand down your face. Your skin was a little dry (you’d been somewhat neglecting to care for it like you normally would, what with all the stress you’d been under) and you could actually feel the puffiness beginning to form under your eyes. 

You felt like crying, but you refused to let Miguel see you in such a weakened state. 

So, you closed your eyes, and put aside your pride for just a moment to utter out an empty, “Sorry, Gigi. I don’t know where that came from.”

The silence that followed seemed to stretch on endlessly, and you took deep, even breaths, waiting for the outburst that you knew would inevitably come. 

…

Except, it never did. 

Instead, when you looked over at Miguel, you found him staring hungrily at you with lidded eyes, hands twitching with want by his sides. 

‘Oh no…’

“G-Gigi?”

He didn’t respond, hands still twitching. 

Finally, after several tense moments, he spoke. 

“Wow, __.” Miguel chuckled as he spoke, slowly beginning to stalk towards you. “I don’t know if I should be angry or turned on right now. You’ve never spoken to me with such authority, and for the fact that you no longer have any, it makes this little outburst all the more astonishing.”

You scream as Miguel pounces on you, sound muffled by his lips smashing into yours. You try to wiggle out of the unwanted kiss, but Miguel holds fast, boxing you in with his knees and arms. 

The kiss is loaded and sloppy, full of clashing teeth and tongues fighting for dominance. It’s so intense, that you can feel yourself becoming dizzy from both it and the lack of air. 

When Miguel finally decides to pull away, a thin string of saliva ties you both together, which Miguel quickly dips in to lick away before you can swat at him. A very satisfied grin plays on his lips, and as he leans back, one of his thick fingers begins trailing down the length of your torso, starting by drawing ticklish circles around where your larynx rests in your throat, down between the valley of your breasts, across the soft, cotton covered expanse of your stomach and eventually resting right atop the border of your panties. 

You hold your breath the entire time, afraid that even the slightest movement would upset the entranced Miguel.

“Muy valiente, pequeña mascota. Perhaps I should reward you.”

“Gi-...”

The word became caught in your throat when Miguel, with seemingly little effort, ripped your shirt down the middle, exposing your bra and underwear. You could see inside Miguel’s slightly agape mouth; his fangs had begun to drop, and you were very afraid in that moment that he would use them.

“Gigi, wait! Please stop. I don’t want this.” 

You couldn’t help it now, and tears had begun streaming down your cheeks. 

Miguel watched silently, his expression not really changing. 

“Oh cariño, there’s no need to shed tears. I promise to make you feel so good. And you’ll make me feel good too, right?”

“NO! I don’t want this Miguel!”

“Well you don’t have much of a choice, now do you __?!” Miguel's eyes had begun to blaze an even more vibrant crimson, his whole face pinched in anger. 

“I let you have your little moment, and now you will shut up and take responsibility for this! All this time I’ve spent being denied my urges because of your selfishness, well that comes to an end now. I’ve given you more than enough time to become comfortable, and now I will have what is mine.”

You watch, stunned as Miguel completes his spiel. 

What on Earth had happened to the man you used to love? Who was this cruel monster that now stood in his place? 

What if…what if, in reality, he’d always been this way, and just knew how to hide it well from others?

“What…what has come over you Miguel?” The words come out hiccupy and quiet, your watery, red eyes wide as you await the answer. 

“Love.” 

Miguel’s response is almost immediate, and somehow, his expression softens. 

“I love you, __. So much, you simply don’t understand. But that’s ok! Because I’m here to help you understand. And in time you will. It’s ok to go to extremes to protect the people you love, and I would kill for you, __. Again and again. I’ll do whatever it takes to help you see that my love for you is true, that anyone who would try to come between us is a pest, and that pests must be exterminated.”

Miguel leans forward, eyes lidded once more and lips nearly brushing yours. 

“Do you understand me, __?”

Unable to do much more beyond stare in shock and horror, you absentmindedly nod, barely registering Miguel’s pleased smile. 

“Buena ninita. Good girl, __. Now...,”

Miguel leans back, a smirk shaping his mouth. 

“Tell me you love me. And let me turn those tears of fear into tears of pleasure.”

.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・ ✧ :-.・゜

Buy Me a Kofi?

[iwantmenicanthave]

˗ˏˋ꒰ Say ‘I Love You’ ꒱ .

HOW THE FROSTHEIM BOYS WOULD ACT IF THEY HAD A CRUSH ON YOU. ft. jin kamurai, tohma ishibashi, lucas errant, & kaito fuji

wc : 2.5k

warnings : sfw, gender-neutral reader but implied afab for tohma's part

JIN is the definition of a cocky bastard. he acts high and mighty, always getting you to do the most insignificant tasks he can think of, all the while being a completely different person when it's just the two of you.

you have a test you need to study for? forget that. now you have to visit jabberwock to hand milk some beast king seal for his daily cup of tea.

if you're lucky and don't ask too many questions or take too long, you might get a sip. if he's in a good enough mood, he might even pour you a cup to commemorate a job well done. of course, this is rare when he prefers to share an indirect kiss without your knowing.

take a sip and position your lips wherever you want on the cup. he’s always going to put his own directly where yours were.

if he can’t sleep, he’s the type to wake you up at 3 am by phone call solely to have you look out the window to see the moon. he could fall asleep in the known presence of you, so calm and stable. just don't ask him if he’s going sentimental on you or he’ll hang up immediately without even wishing you a word.

don't let these small sweet moments fool you. the second you think he might be catching feelings, you see him out in public, and you’re nothing more than a fly on the wall that needs to be swatted (with utmost care).

even with his on-and-off attitude, he makes sure to become the lifeline you deserve. he can see that the second years don't exactly have the… disposition to take care of you as he could. lucas and the other one can try and protect you all they want, but he’ll be the only one to actually do something. he is the captain of frostheim for a reason.

the second you tell him about someone from his house even raising their voice at you, the best-case scenario is that they get shipped off to dig ditches in the desert for some mission and are gone for so long they have to retake the year.

of course, if you questioned the students' absence, he would wave you off, saying their families were too poor and needed their kids back home to help pay rent.

just remember, no matter how docile he may come off with you, the second someone else enters the room, those walls come shooting back up, acting as if he never caressed your hand, showing you how you could have easily checkmated him before he took out your queen and king all within four moves.

just pray it’s not tohma, or else jin would be taking jab after jab while trying to make him leave his room by any means necessary. all the while the vice-captain filled up your tea, sweet-talking you, and wondering why the door was locked while the two of you were alone all night; something you hadn't even noticed when coming in midday.

just hurry up and confess to jin already so tohma can stop his prying. he's not patient enough to deal with your mixed signals and dilly-dallying.

TOHMA wouldn't even try to cover how bad his excuses for everything were. it’s always going to be 50/50 on how realistic they sound. go fetch this work. go do this and that. he needs to help you study for an upcoming quiz. you need to try out this imported tea. blah, blah, blah.

there had been some minuscule to nonexistent complaints about the formal uniform at the dances and how it should be more elegant. buckle up because this man has ordered the most embarrassing things for you to try on.

the next week, there was a package filled to the brim with luxury clothes on your doorstep. the finest silk materials all adorned your body while he watched, camera and notes in hand. please excuse the quill in his hand writing everything everyone says; that’s just to track your true feelings. oh, the camera? it was for your candid reaction to pair with the pen. you really must work on masking your emotions more; maybe he could help you later.

starting off with a dress for someone your age was a nice start. nothing too sexy or childlike, being more on the modest side. the only skin showing were some ankles, chest, and all of your arms. the next few would be similar, only to ease you into a false sense of security.

somewhere sandwiched in the middle of the modeling session would be dresses tighter and smaller. you felt like your whole body was on display with him, the push-ups on your chest only contributing to your stress. when you asked tohma, he said he had no idea about when he ordered—as if he hadn't done research prior and took quick photos as you came out, pretending to act shocked when he saw the revealing clothing.

oh, the dress has a bit too much skin? well, that’s all the rage from what the female poll said they wanted for their dress uniforms. they did pay for their bodies; they should show them off.

to him, this was your way of opening up to him. if he's already gotten a sneak peek of what you have to offer, then what’s stopping him from seeing the rest? after all, you and he would complement each other so well.

not to mention he would work tooth and nail out of all his free time, dedicating it to figuring out how to get you to confess to him. he would never put his feelings on the line and somehow get rejected by someone like you.

you had to go to a random anomaly library to search for an anomaly book? that’s not too hard.

wrong.

two hours after being stuck in the never-ending location, and a mental breakdown later, tohma already secured the book without your knowledge. now he’s just waiting and making small talk, trying to rip out any piece of information he could use to make you sink your teeth into his hold on you.

both figuratively and literally, you were being brought together. the deeper you went into the library, the closer the shelves seemed to be.

when he had the chance to put the book on the highest shelf, watching the way your face lit up, he almost felt guilty putting this much effort into his plans. but you had to realize your feelings for him, not the other way around.

when you went to grab the anomaly book—along with the massive stack of books it was placed upon—it came avalanching down. instead of being swallowed alive by pages, you were pressed tight against the vice-captain, his shoulder saving you from your doom.

what you didn’t know was how tohma plastered your scent in his mind so he could hopefully find whatever perfume, shampoo, or just your smell somewhere.

LUCA would be the sweetest thing if he liked you. he would, of course, deny these feelings, thinking, or understanding them as platonic.

he would make you feel like you were in a classic, unproblematic, 90s shoujo manga. you could practically see the rose petals following him around whenever he’s with you.

it wouldn’t matter whether he recognizes his feelings or not or if he acts on them; no matter what, you’re going to feel special and wanted.

often, he would find you perusing the halls and randomly start a conversation. he would tell you about the differences between darwick and the uk campus, trying to find a reason to talk just so you wouldn’t leave. sometimes he finds himself purposely getting lost to spend just a couple of extra minutes with you.

he probably has some phone tracking app on you just in case something bad happens. of course, he would manipulate it in his favor—nothing bad, truly just misguided—so he could “accidentally” bump into you.

he’d probably subconsciously check his phone every few minutes hoping you texted him or anything. if you hadn’t seen him in a while due to being stuck at other houses for missions, he would use his favorite app at the moment to send a ‘stay safe!’ message for you to respond to and tell him how it’s going.

when you meet up, whether it be after a class or a whole week, he would, of course, grab your bags and make sure you're feeling alright. your feet hurt? here, get on his back. you have a migraine? here, have some medicine and a nice head massage.

what kind of gentleman would he be if he didn’t give his friends the courtesy of being comfortable?

he would take you to sho’s food truck, ren’s job, the cafeteria, or anywhere to have an excuse to spend more time with you (same goes for subaru).

100% a gentleman and doesn’t believe in splitting the tab 50/50. he invited you and you took the time out of your busy schedule to meet up with him.

yeah, there’s no way you're pitching in even a cent. he has money and he isn’t afraid to spend it on you.

he will open the doors for you and wait with bated breath as you walk by, thanking him each and every time.

he will treat you how you should be treated. he believes in the golden rule of treating others how you would like to be treated or how they would treat you, and you’ve shown him nothing but kindness. all he can do now is return the favor of being his first friend at this new school.

at one point, when his feelings were developing, he took them to yuri. instead of realizing any feelings, he thought your curse might cause him heartburn, only to be met with the doctor shoving him out and telling him to figure out his feelings before wasting his time on sappy romance.

it's safe to say everyone but luca knows about his feelings for you.

when he did realize his feelings were more than platonic, he cranked up that gentleman's act by one thousand.

you know those classic suave princely characters? that’s him to a t. patient and caring all without acting like a father and instead a friend.

if you did date him, it could only work out. it would be like dating your best friend, but not in an incestuous friendship-type way. an actual budding romance, no strings attached, but true undeterred love.

he would wait until he had completely understood his feelings until trying to make “moves” on you. think of things he’s heard kaito say to girls he’s trying to flirt with. suffice to say it only made you laugh.

instead of forcing you to confess to him like the rest, he’d much rather stake his emotions on the line than yours. he just wants you to be happy, even if it comes in the form of rejection or love. as long as you’re happy, he’s happy, whether that be as friends or something more.

be prepared to just enjoy time with him. if you do or don’t romantically like him back, it doesn’t matter. no matter what, you’re just going to be genuinely happy.

even if he’s not the best at picking up signs or reading people, he’s still going to be making sure you’re enjoying yourself.

his brother has already disappeared; he needs to cherish every moment with you, even if it’s one-sided, as friends, or as lovers.

KAITO'S unofficial love language is making you watch movies to make you fall in love with him.

scary movies? you can cling onto him, squealing into his big, strong, herculean muscles. romcom? maybe that can get you in the mood to stare at his plump lips and share your very first kiss. action? maybe you two can try and replicate a scene and accidentally fall on top of him, staring into his deep cerulean orbs, realizing he was always the one for you, not luca.

he is the most unorganized and delusional of the frostheim boys.

he will probably plan a few minutes in advance and, if not, he will get in his head and forget how to talk to you.

the most he’ll plan ahead of time is explaining how you two need to sleep in a bed together because he can't sleep in a pew of the church.

see, once you two finish binging a movie series, he can sleep and spend the night at your place. walking back is just too hard and dangerous at night, you know? besides, just one night in your small bed wouldn’t hurt. it would just end up with you two waking up in each other's loving embrace, confessing your undying love for each other.

in reality, he was scared he would accidentally fart or kick you as you slept and was too afraid to even move. he slept on the corner of the bed while hiding under the covers, trying to ignore the creepy shadow-like monsters of your room.

he has tried and failed to change his personality to match every single one of your interests, only to fail miserably. trust me, if you post a lot, he will stalk you back to your first-ever post by accident and have a mental breakdown after liking the post.

he wouldn't speak to you for a week after the incident until you liked his first-ever post to somewhat ease the burn.

the same goes for if you see him zoning out on you. do not try and provoke him in the wild as he watches you walk from class to class. if you even make eye contact, he's shriveling up to a prune.

unfortunately, everyone in the area sees him making an effort to stalk you and endlessly teases him for it.

even if he doesn’t necessarily look it, he will protect you. if you even seem somewhat stressed with a mission, he will be running across campus to help you out, no matter what the other house says.

he wouldn’t be a lap dog for you, more so an eager friend. not in a hundred years will he let you be stalked or threatened if someone took an interest in you. not on a yandere level, just a worried friend who would steamroll someone if need be, even if he had to fight. he will suck it up for you.

hopefully, you are genuinely interested in ranting or are a master at tuning things or people out because this man is insane. he will tell you all about his day while saying nothing at the same time.

he will send you his entire for you page and count down the seconds from when he posted to when you liked it. god forbid you take a day or week because you’re busy. if a form of snapchat exists in darwick, your streak will be insane. literally, how you track the number of days you started at the school.

“you forgot to open one.”

[aphroditesmoon]

smoke signals (part ii)

lighthouse keeper!sevika x selkie!reader

summary: sevika is content with her life, the loneliness that comes with her job is inevitable. but then one day, as she reaches the peak of mundanity, almost turning into insanity, you appeared. cold, quiet, clueless, sea-sent you, like a wish fulfilment for her.

warnings: selkie!reader, reader has selective mutism in beginning.

a/n: thank you for the love on part 1!!! i love selkies and seals! and i think we all meed some softness and love in this trying times.

taglist: @lilredbird101 , @djstinkyfartz

wc: 2.4k

PART1 PART 3

---

To find simple kindness in life isn't as easy as people make it out to be. To give out kindness after receiving none of it is even harder. 

You know what it was like to have your innocence ripped off from your hands since you were young. To have to force yourself to stand up tall against the fragile sand breaking in between your toes and keep walking anyways, despite knowing that there's nothing waiting for you at the other end of the world.

Losing your mother at a young age meant having to be comfortable in your own presence. All selkies were seals, but not all seals are selkies. And on nights where you're swimming under the moonlight with your friends, crossing borders after borders, it felt like everything is going as it's meant to be. Even if the feeling never lasted. 

You're a runner, or swimmer, technically. You needed to constantly be moving to fill that emptiness in you. You'd find a place with new kinds of entertainment to satiate the deep curiosity you have for the man-folk, and then leave before you can get attached, that was your game. 

But lately the thrill was disappearing. There was this feeling you just couldn't shake, the feeling that you were truly and completely alone even in a room full of people. 

There was a longing for true connection, but no one to connect to. No one made sense to you. Except her. 

You've been hanging around her for months now, even when she doesn't notice you, while shes doing work, getting on and off the boats with the big man and hia daughters, when she's enjoying the cold wind under moonlight while the sea is calm.

She confuses you, a woman with so much freedom, and yet she chooses to stay here instead, all alone. Why deprive yourself from real connections when you can easily obtain it? Do the other humans not satisfy her?

And so maybe your new curiosity is taking shape in this weirdly lonely and awkward woman. 

You don't really know what you want, self discovery as half sea creature /half man isn't easy. But all you knew that for some reason, the waves of your heart is insistent in going her way, and so you follow in hopes that it would help you feel any other other than aching desperation to be understood.

When she picked you up and carried you inside last night, you had managed to acknowledge a few things about her. The first thing is, she's a man of action. If plan A doesn't work, she's going straight to Plan B. She didn't force you out of your silence and instead worked through it. 

The second thing you learned was that she's less scarier than she looks. And the third is that you were wrong about her purposely depriving herself of human connection. 

With how quickly she went for aiding you is one thing, but you could see the same kind of craving for another person in her eyes, when she caught you out of bed and rummaging through her belongings, there was more of confusion than irritation, but most importantly, there was a need to comprehend your existence.

You couldn't find your coat. It's a few hours before dawn, and she's somehow managed to fall asleep by the rocking chair downstairs. You had used the extra time you had before its time for her to wake up to quietly tiptoe around the tall tower, exploring every level and getting yourself familiar with the place. 

This place is as old as it looks. The paint is peeling off the walls, and the lights flicker every few seconds, giving the tower a sense of melancholy and nostalgia. 

It was just the kind of place you liked, historic but also monotonous. 

Once you reached the level she was at, you silently watched over her, observing her sleeping manner as she remained unconscious. You didn't want to accidentally wake her up, so you only looked around from wher eyou stood to see if you could find your coat, but when you couldn't, you decided to go back to bed, all out of options. 

What was your motive, truly? You weren't sure. You've decided that you're staying, but what angle are you going with?

You've had your fair share of experiences around humans, and in each time, you made sure to have a certain role or goal you're going in with, it saves time, and it's necessary for your own safety. The last thing you needed was some dirty sailor or pirate, locking you up against your will.

But this time, nothing is clear, not even your intentions. You see this situation as a process of trying to understand yourself through understanding her. So the end goal, should probably be some feeling of clarity, right?

It sounds silly, trying to find  pieces of yourself in another woman's puzzle, but sometimes, things fit even in places they dont belong in.

—

Sevika woke up 5 minutes later than usual with a sense of urgency in her chest, which technically meant that she was still early, but that wasn't the point. Something was different today, compared to all the other repetitive and mundane days she's had.

Usually, she'd berate herself for the clumsiness as she'd have nothing else to do. But today, as soon as she woke up, you were the first thing that crossed her mind.

The peculiar girl that somehow survived the antagonising waves of the sea. 

She pulled herself out of her chair and was about to make her way up to the bedroom until she saw you standing outside from the window, leaning against the railing, basking in the calm air as the sun slowly rose up.

You were checked out if reality, enjoying the morning glow as the wind blew through your hair, turning your cool skin even colder. It was a sight to behold, Sevika thought. There was no one who seemed more in her element than you at this moment.

As you seemed blind to her presence, she decided to take advantage of it and get started on breakfast. omelettes would do, at least for now. She even added an extra effort by drawing a smily face on it using soy sauce. 

You entered back in while she was still preparing the food and went up to her from behind, taking a peek at Sevika's neck twisted to meet your face. "Good morning.” Sevika greeted as she placed the plates on the table.

She then beckons you to take a seat with her,  and you don't hesitate to do so.

How did you sleep? She wanted to ask, but she doubted that you would answer. The speaking barrier is stressing her out. There are still some things she actually needed to figure out, were you mute or foreign. Because if you were simply unable to speak, at least she'd be relieved to know that you could understand her.

She sits opposite you and watches you ravage the omelette without a single care for her and the world, not that she'd blame you, if you've been up earlier than her. you must be starving.

You appreciate each bite like it's be your last, and Sevika views you with both awe and frustration, not knowing what to do in this situation. 

It's quite a silly thought process actually, she already knew that there was nothing she could do and that you'd be stuck with her for a while, but how does she tell you that? Or do you already know and that's why you're weirdly chill? Why are you so chill? Were you still in shock?

And why is she having more trouble processing this than you were? Sure its jarring to spend months alone and then suddenly be having breakfast with a stranger who steals her bed, but Sevika has always been a rational and calculated person, so what was the issue now?

Sevika groaned, wiping a hand over her face,  causing you to look up from your plate.

She caught your eye and straightened her back. "I- we need to talk." She forced the words out, not breaking eye contact.

Your eyes never strayed from hers as you feed a spoonful into your mouth. "Do you understand what I'm saying?" She asks slowly. No response.

Sevika didn't want to show her disappointment, so she decided to start with something easier. Pointing her finger to herself, she repeated her own name in a show of introducing herself. "Sevika." She repeated, still pointing to her chest.

You nodded then, shyly but surely. Sevika couldn't help but beam at you, smiling ear to ear. "Yeah? You understand me?" You nodded again.

"And you?" She asks. "Your name?" You're unresponsive again, simply staring blankly at her. Sevika tries again, pointing to herself and saying her own name. "I am Sevika." She says, then begins pointing towards herself, "You?"

She thought that you must be completely lost in your head again as your eyes squint in confusion, but then after a minute or two passed, you shook your head at her.

"No?" What does that mean? The imaginary brick wall between the two of you that she thought had been removed, has just returned.

"I'm Sevika." She repeated herself for the fourth time. "And your name is?" You shook your head at her again. 

"No name?" Sevika is grasping at the end of the straws here. "You have no name, or you can't remember your name?" You went static again. Sevika sighed.

"Well, I need to call you something." She muttered under her breath. "How about this, I'll say a few names, and you nod your head at which one you like, how bout that?" Unresponsive, of course.

Here goes nothing, she thought. "Lily, Kate, Alia, Nadia, Tella, Belle-" Sevika went over a bunch of names in her head until she paused at a particular one when she saw something flashed in your eyes.

She said the name aloud and noticed your eyes widening slightly. "Is that your name?" You didn't quite agree, but you tilted your head to you and gave her a look that said "It'll do." And so for now, It'll do.

---

The phone isn't working, she had known it wouldn't. The line here have always been problematic. Sevika anxiously paces back and fourth after hanging it up, rubbing her temples in a manner that distinctly shows her frustrations. 

"Well there's no safe way to send you out." She says, turning to look at you, who's comfortably  on her rocking chair, playing with a strand of your hair.

"But that isn't something we don't already know." She finishes her sentence.

She halts all of her movement all of the sudden, reminded of something she'd almost forgotten to bring up. Sevika reaches further into the backroom by the kitchen and comes up with a familiar piece of clothing.

You all but jumped out of the chair, striding towards her. This was the first time you've ever reacted this strongly towards anything for all the time you've been here.

"I guess this is yours?" She asks, waving your white coat up. You nodded and extended  your hand to take it from her, but just before she could, you pulled your hand back and frowned.

"What?" Sevika asks. "You don't want it?"

She watches you open your mouth briefly, as if about to say something, but the. closing it back and taking a step back.

"I'll admit, " Sevika starts. "It is quite a useless coat, very inefficient." She teases as she walks forward, taking note of how you keep moving backwards. 

"What's wrong?" She asks again, genuinely worried. "You're not suddenly gaining consciousness about the realities of your condition and stranger danger, are you?"

You laughed at that, a choked, short laugh. But a laugh nonetheless. Sevika smiled despite herself. 

"So you do understand me."

You sat back down at the rocking chair, leaning back and closing your eyes, completely ignoring her and the coat. Sevika confusedly hung the coat on the chair by the window, and dragged it infront of you before taking a seat.

"In all seriousness, you did understand what I've been telling you, yes?" You opened your eyes, and stared into her dark orbs.

"You're going to be stuck with me for a while, until I can find someone to help me get you back to where you came from." You responded with a single nod.

"And you do know where you come from?" You gave it a moment before nodding again. Sevika's eyes brightened. "That's good. Great, even. " She reached for a long folded paper that's pushed to the side by the closet on your right and rolled it open in front of you.

It's a map. "This is a map." She stated. You raised a brow at her, an expression that translated; "I know what a map is."

"It would give me instant relief if you could just circle where you're from, just so we can get some things clear.

She passed you a pencil and moved to give you some space, patiently waiting for you to point towards your home.

You looked through the foreign words you've somehow mastered as you travelled and found yourself in a state of hesitancy for the first time in your life.

You never knew where you were born. From the first time you opened your eyes, you had found yourself in dry land, an infant who had stuck  by her mother's side, and before your mother had passed, the both of you returned into the deep blue sea, swimming through unnamed waters.

You can feel her expectancy as you raised the pencil in your arm, drawing it closer to the map. And so in the end, you dotted a big circle over the whole map, and passed it back to her in satisfaction.

"You gotta be fuckin with me." Sevika groaned, making you smile.

"You are..." A pain in the ass, you thought she'd say, "-an enigma." 

Sevika rolled and dropped the map to where she got it and began walking upstairs, leaving you behind. "I got some checking to do on the lights, call me if you need me. Or don't."

Your eyes stays on her back until she disappears before they turn to your coat that's already dried up and safely hanging over the chair. 

You're gonna leave it there for now, you decided. After all, you'll be here for quite some time.

[petersnya]

u should do the nsfw alphabet thing with Anakin 👀 👀 👀

Anakin Skywalker NSFW alphabet pt. 1

A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex)

With aftercare Ani is very gentle and tender with you. Like as soon as the both of you come down his gently kissing all over your face as he pulls out of you slowly; caressing your face and telling you how much he loves you and how good you are to him and how you make him feel. He cleans you up and after he makes sure you’re okay (cause that mane can get pretty fuckin carried away with you that’s just how much he can’t control himself when he’s with you). He loves to hold you and lay his head on your bare chest while his arms hold you. Sometimes he’ll fall asleep or he’ll talk to you. This is one of his most valuable times.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

I feel like his loves your tits and so such in them or kiss them gently. When you two are making out “innocently” he’s sneak his hand up your body and grip and grope at them softly but it’s soon gets rougher.

Even though he loves to play with your tits, he loves just as equally to grope your ass and kneed it while he kisses you and your body. He also loves your legs. When he puts one or both over his shoulders he’ll kiss them tenderly; but even when you two aren’t having sex, he’ll just rub your thighs or your legs and caress them with his finger tips.

I slick think he likes to pinch your cheeks too.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically... I'm a disgusting person)

Ok so I’ve already talked about the taste of it so I’m gonna talk about the place of it. He loves to cum on your ass the most, but when he’s being very… lewd is your tongue. He’ll jerk off while his tip is resting on your tongue as he pumps out load after load.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Anis dirty little secret is that he has a love hate relationship with sneaking around because of the Jedi council and the order, but he more so loves it. Being sneaky and touching you with the force while you are in meetings for senator/princess/Jedi business. He can be across the room from you, staring as he moves his two fingers in a “come here” motion with a dirty smirk on his face; through the force he’s pumping his fingers in and out of you slowly. Anakin enjoys pulling you behind walls and doors and pillars in the temple to kiss you softly/roughly before pulling back and walking away. He love the thought that you have to act as if nothing happened and that you have to come up with lies because you are not supposed to be together.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

He’s a tad bit experienced but not really because of the restrictions of the Jedi, but when he’s with you and you two are having sex or doing other things he seems much more experienced to you. I think the only reason why he seems so much more experienced than he really is is because he gets so carried away with you. He just starts doing whatever he feels. 

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

His fav position is missionary cause I feel like he’s a very simple man. He loves to rock his hips into you slowly and getting rougher with each thrust while he is either: a. Propping himself up on his forearm on one and hand either the other holding neck as his lips press to your ear so you can hear every grunt and moan or even whimper — b. Hugging your body as close as possible with his with one hand on your ass pushing it to hit the deepest part of you.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Anakin is naturally a very serious person and very emotional. He can be goofy in the right moments with you but during intimacy, he takes it a little bit more seriously. There are times where he might laugh at how you look with cum on your cheeks and your wide eyes looking at him, but he’s laughing out of complete adoration of how cute you look to him like that. He’ll also grin while biting his lip at you as he’s plunging deeply into you at the look on your face. 

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

I think the curtains match to drapes but just a tad bit darker than his natural hair colors which is like a really dirty blonde/brunette. He doesn’t normal shave down there (but he does trim usually) but he does often consider the thought that you try and keep yourself all nice and pretty for him so he feels he should do the same, right? Even though you’ve told him multiple times it doesn’t bother you.

I= Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect...)

Anakin in the moment is always watching your face, wanting to see every single face you make to every thing he does to you. He’ll often catch himself smiling as you shut your eyes tightly as your mouth slack open as silent moans come out. Just as much as he watches your face he watches his cock slip in and out of you in awe.

J= Jack Off (Masturbation head canon)

Okok, so naturally he jacks off alone to the thought of you or the pictures/videos of you on his halo pad that he’s taken during sex or things like that (sometimes it can be a picture of you smiling or off guard and he’ll cum all over your face on the halo pad). But something that he seems to be damn near obsessed with doing is just jerking while looking at your naked ass while you lay on your stomach or your tits when your laying on your back and cumming all over you. He’ll grunt and moan out in a low but loud tone while his brows furrow. Idk I guess he loves to jack off to the real thing instead of a picture.

K= Kink (One or more of their kinks)

I know for sure he has these two kinks: 1. Dirty talk. Ooohh that man loves him some dirty talk. Every time you make a noise, he’ll say “yeah?” or “shhhh” (even though you better not stop making those pretty noises for him) in a low voice. Really his kink is him doing the dirty talking cause he knows how much you love it. This also kinda plays in with humiliation which only happens when he’s really losing control. 2. Chocking (when I was thinking of this one I couldn’t help but think of the scene on mustafar… sorry.) He doesn’t actually choke you but sometimes he likes to put pressure on your throat and he likes to look of his hand wrapped around it. Sometimes he’ll even use the force to do so just to feel powerful while doing so.

L= Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Anis favorite place is obviously his bed or your bed but sometimes he’ll let you ride him in his star-fighter… plain and simple.

[rafes-slut]

Frat boy rafe cameron headcanons

Pairing: frat boy rafe cameron x reader

Frat boy Rafe Cameron is a whole different level of cocky, possessive, and reckless. He’s the golden boy of his fraternity—loud, confident, and completely obsessed with you in the most chaotic way possible. Here’s what dating him would be like:

----

General Vibes

Everyone knows you’re his. Whether it’s his arm slung over your shoulder at parties, his frat hoodie draped over you on campus, or the way he glares at any guy who so much as looks at you—Rafe makes it very clear.

He’s the life of the party, but the second you show up, you’re the only thing on his mind. Doesn’t matter if he was in the middle of a drinking game—he’s ditching it to wrap his arms around you and kiss your neck.

Greedy for your attention. If you’re talking to someone else at a party? Expect interruptions. He’ll wrap an arm around your waist, whisper something dirty in your ear, or straight-up pull you into his lap to remind everyone who you belong to.

Rafe is hilariously competitive, even when it’s unnecessary. Beer pong? He needs to win. Trivia night? He’s making it personal. If you’re on the opposite team, he’s smirking at you the whole time before pulling you in for a cocky, lingering kiss when he wins.

Possessiveness & Jealousy

Over-the-top jealous. He won’t even pretend to be chill about it. Some guy from your class likes your Instagram post? Rafe is stalking his profile, scoffing at his pictures, and wrapping himself around you the second he sees you.

He hates when other guys make you laugh. “Oh, he’s funny? That’s cute. Let’s see if he’s still funny when I knock his teeth out.”

If another guy flirts with you at a party, Rafe makes a scene. He’ll drag you away, pulling you into the nearest empty room, pressing you against the wall, and kissing you like he’s reclaiming you.

His favorite way to remind people you’re taken? Leaving hickeys all over you, right where they can be seen. He gets off on watching you try to cover them up.

Physical Affection

Hands on you at all times. Thigh squeezes under the table at frat dinners, grabbing your ass in public with zero shame, pulling you into his lap when he’s drunk and clingy.

Obsessed with kissing you. At parties, on the way to class, even in the middle of conversations—he’ll grab your jaw and kiss you just because he feels like it.

He loves pulling you into his hoodie when you’re cold, making sure you smell like him for the rest of the day.

He’s obsessed with the idea of you wearing his frat letters. He thinks you look hot as hell in his oversized sweatshirts, especially if you’re just wearing his hoodie and nothing else.

Frat Parties & Chaos

Absolutely the worst influence. If you have a big exam the next morning? “Babe, just come out for one drink. One drink. I swear.” (You’re staying out all night.)

If you ever get too drunk, he’s 100% the guy taking care of you. He’ll **hold your hair back, carry you home, and get you water—**while grumbling, “You’re lucky I love you.”

Gets so cocky when he’s drunk. Loves showing you off—lifting you up, spinning you around, grabbing your ass in front of everyone just to make a point.

If another guy so much as breathes near you at a party, Rafe is throwing hands. He has zero chill, and his frat brothers always have to hold him back.

The kind of boyfriend who loses you at a party, then yells, “WHERE’S MY GIRL?” until he finds you.

Academics & Campus Life

Definitely a rich legacy kid. He probably doesn’t need to study, but you’re the reason he actually tries.

If you’re stressed about school, he’s dragging you out for a break—whether it’s a drive to get food, a distraction in the form of him, or just making you skip class to hang out with him.

Pretends he doesn’t care about grades but gets stupidly proud if you do well. “That’s my girl. Smartest one on campus.”

If you’re studying in the library, Rafe is the worst distraction. He’ll whisper dirty things in your ear, trace his fingers up your thigh under the table, and smirk when you glare at him.

Soft & Unexpectedly Sweet Moments

Even though he’s loud and cocky, he has moments where he’s weirdly soft. After a long night, he’ll wrap himself around you, burying his face in your neck like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.

Late-night talks when he’s drunk and vulnerable. He’ll mumble something like, “I don’t deserve you,” and get clingier than ever.

He gets clingy after sex, pulling you close, pressing lazy kisses to your shoulder, and refusing to let you move.

Carries you everywhere. If you’re too tired? He’s throwing you over his shoulder. Feet hurt after a party? He’s giving you a piggyback ride.

If you’re upset, he’s all over you—pulling you into his lap, tilting your chin up to make you look at him, murmuring, “Tell me who pissed you off so I can handle it.”

Pet Names & Texting Style

Calls you ‘baby’ like it’s your name. But when he’s teasing? “Princess.” When he’s feeling extra cocky? “Mine.”

His texts are chaotic as hell. One minute it’s “wyd,” the next it’s “come over.” If he’s drunk? Full paragraphs about how much he loves you.

Random texts like, “We should get matching tattoos,” or “Babe, what if we just dropped out and ran away?”

Snaps you constantly. Half the time it’s him at a party, smirking into the camera, captioned “where tf u at.” The other half? Shameless thirst traps just to mess with you.

Overall

Frat Rafe is chaotic, possessive, reckless, and obsessed with you. He shows you off, protects you, and demands all your attention—but at the end of the day, he’s wrapped around your finger whether he admits it or not.

[littlelostmoon]

Hey, welcome. I love to hear other people's headcanons about my husband (obiwan). And I also leave a request if you are open ofc 🫶🏻

-🪷

assorted obi-wan headcanons a/n thanks for the req! i have a ton of random hcs for obi-wan & they're so fun to actually write down lmao. hope you're having a nice day (..◜ᴗ◝..) tags gender neutral reader. sfw & nsfw (at the end). alcohol mentioned.

silly / random

vegetarian although he rarely has the time to cook for himself. i don't see him as the holier-than-thou type, just never liked meats. probably the texture?

a few years after the battle on mustafar he buzzed his hair again (lmao) but ended up hating it & wore a hood until it was mullet-length.

his living area in coruscant is completely devoid of personality to discourage lingering. literally the most basic furniture and plain, dark walls. unscented everything. sterile like a fancy hotel room.

never listens to music and will not give you his opinion on a song even if your life depended on it.

very modest with alcohol. only got super drunk once in his life (padawan years) and tried to irritate everyone around him. now, he has such amazing self control & hardly anyone can tell if he's been drinking. to make matters worse, he's not a social drinker. visits the corner of a bar on special occasions. you learned to ask if he's 'had a few' if he's acting sassier than usual.

when alone, he sleeps flat on his back with one arm folded over his chest. only one pillow needed.

this man hates fizzy drinks for some reason.

when the weather is cold, his nose area and lips get really dry. probably keeps one of those mini moisturizing balms on-hand and doesn't care if people think he looks weird with it smeared on.

romantic

obi-wan's body is a furnace. i don't make the rules. always so warm and cuddly. dizzy and feverish. if you're laying with him, nine times out of ten you'll have to cool off at some point.

while we're on the topic— he cuddles you in his sleep. always murmuring your name and tightening his grip on your waist.

whatever your hair care routine is, no matter what hair type you've got, he learned it and will offer to wash / braid / cut / dye / oil it for you. every. single. time. have you seen his hair? he knows what he's doing.

initiates hand-holding mostly by putting his hand on top of yours and waiting for you to lace them together.

in his younger years, he was a shameless flirt / womanizer as an act of rebellion against the 'rules,' but post-tpm era, he's a lot more serious about it (though some witty moments come through after he feels comfy). more interested in inviting you over for tea because you're out of teabags, or offering to clean / fix things for you. things you can almost brush off as friendliness.

yes, i'm dropping hints that his (giving) love language is acts of service.

loves having his back scratched, though he refuses to ask for it. he has no idea that it's a common relaxing gesture— thinks it's some quirk of yours that you sometimes do while zoned out. stays completely still so you forget to stop.

mild nsfw

this man does not wear any sort of undergarments. sorry. this isn't even something i care about yet i feel it so strongly for him. he's constantly wearing so many layers of soft, loose-fitting linen that he simply doesn't need to.

would never sleep naked, though. he finds that inappropriate and has a ton of robes / loungewear.

will carry you around (and carry you to bed) no matter the occasion. possibly my favorite thing about obi-wan is that he doesn't have a concept of the performative aspect of romance nowadays; he won't pick you up because he wants to make you feel small or protected or something to boost his own ego. he wants to get you where he wants (needs) you as fast as possible while remaining his sensual, old-fashioned self.

super loud. this is barely even a headcanon. he's got a range of grunts & high, breathy, open-mouthed moans. i need him.

i don't see him being stereotypically 'dominant' (he's not the type to care about rigid labels or expectations and is quite the gentleman) but once in a while when he's in those sarcastic moods where he wants to annoy you a bit, this will translate into the bedroom.

still gets shy / timid when you step out of the bath or shower in a robe or get dressed in front of him.

hardly ever tells you directly that he's turned on. you can tell by the way he kisses you or how pink his cheeks are. it works.

see above when i talked abt his love language— he is not above using acts of service to get in your pants. he offers to do other things for you once he's got you happy and taken care of. i said what i said.

[ronearoundblindly]

Wide Open Future (1)

Steve Rogers x agoraphobic!Reader

Summary: Steve saves you after the Battle of New York, but you don't want to be taken from your safe space.

Warnings for being self-indulgent, hurt/comfort that's not completed in this part, 'slow' burn (but it's not going to be super long in total), and none of those are actually warnings so much as content descriptions. Originally, this was a one-shot. Go figure. There are zero specification of male or female, ethnicity or size for this reader. WC ~2k

Life was fine until half of your apartment blew apart. In an instant, the whole outer wall evaporated, leaving you seven stories up, the floor (mostly) ripped out from under you.

Obviously, in the emergency, no one took the elevators, and through your front door to the hallway, you heard people run for the stairs. They passed you by, but that’s because you didn’t know any of your neighbors. You didn’t move though. You couldn’t.

The sound��the sounds got worse.

Unearthly shrieks from floating, flying whales. Explosions that rattled you to the bone. Human screams, outside and in. Rubble from the other two stories above you crashed down, chipping away chunks of your floor with it.

Your couch teetered for a while before it finally caved.

Your kitchen island peeled away in bits: countertop, dishwasher, and then the sink plumbing.

For some reason, the worst was your books cascading off the shelves like synchronized swimmers into a sparking pool of ash.

You didn’t move though. You couldn’t.

It grew dark. The sirens never stopped.

You got thirsty, then hungry, yet you stay so, so still.

This has gone on for hours now. Life as you know it is over, and you remain curled at the foot of your front door.

All the electricity is out. Your fridge is off and your food spoiling, but at least water stops shooting out of the destroyed sink. There are no working clocks. Your walls are bare, and your phone long since slid down the slanted rubble to god-knows-where. There’s no signal by then anyway.

You don’t make a single sound. You can’t. You’d rather die here than leave. The dusty air is taunting you. You’ve shifted from hyperventilating to holding your breath.

“I’ve got something. Hang on,” you hear just as a spotlight sweeps across your living room turned paper mache dollhouse.

“Jarvis, can you get me the tenant listing…yeah, looks like…apartment seven-four-three…oh.” The voice says your name. “I’m going to move this off of you, ok? Can you hear me?”

The gentle hand sweeps a thick layer of debris off of your head and back. You chance relaxing your hands to look at the face of your rescuer.

Him.

“No,” you dryly whisper. “I live here. ’S my home.”

“The building isn’t stable. We have to evacuate you.”

“No,” you try to scream, but it’s too hard to focus. You’re fighting to back up out of his reach, but rubble lies behind you. Your ankle slips into a crevice, stopped by strips of exposed rebar.

Captain America grabs your shaking arms. “I’m sorry,” he keeps saying, “I’m sorry. You can’t live here. It’s not safe.”

You repeat yourself, too. “I can’t leave. I can’t leave.”

He talks, but it’s not to you anymore. He checks that you’re the last they’ve found in the building. People got trapped in the stairwell beyond a point, and they’ve been handled. Cap announces he’s going to “see this one through and call it a night.”

You’d rather die than leave. Out there is not livable. Out there is unsafe.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

You don’t believe him.

“I need you to trust me, just for a little while, alright?”

“I don’t want to go—“

“Close your eyes for me. Please? Just close your eyes until we get there.”

“No, please, no.”

He has to pry your body a little straighter to get ahold of you, and your shaking becomes so violent he adjusts, using sincere force to pin you to his chest before getting a running start.

He jumps across the chasm of your building to land on what sounds like a metal ramp and calls for the Jarvis person to take him home.

Home? It’s not your home. 

“It’ll be okay, I promise,” he says against your temple.

You’re frozen, shaking so badly words couldn’t form if you tried.

“I swear to you it will be okay.”

You haven’t spoken since.

He set you down on a bed, but you promptly crawled to the smallest, darkest space you could find, a closet full of Converses and jackets.

Cap, in his filthy suit, tossing the cowl onto the dresser, simply asks if you’re injured since he can’t get to you. You won’t let him see. The most he can do is hand you a bottle of water and a watch from his nightstand to hold.

Time is still going, still moving, even when you won’t.

Steve is…tired.

What he knows from J.A.R.V.I.S. is very little and very simple: you rented that one apartment for years, it has a magnetic keycard entry for the building, a regular key for your unit’s door, and there is no record of you ever entering since your move-in day. Your utilities are 35% higher than the average in the area. Because you are there all day. Because you never leave.

Because, as you yourself said, you can’t leave.

Steve sympathizes, he does, but he had to make the tough call. He wasn’t going to watch you die. He couldn’t live with himself if he left you there. This is the next-best and now only option.

He’s exhausted and starving. Shawarma only goes so far when vaulting across sheer drops to help find survivors in spots too dangerous for regular emergency crews. Steve alone found thirty-nine men, women, and children. Tony, with jet-pack feet and metal-armor biceps, rescued somewhere in the range of eighty people.

Great. Give Stark a medal. Steve couldn’t care less right now.

That’s not true, exactly, but after back-to-back-to-back calls with shelters all at-capacity or worse, he’s in need of sustenance, a shower, and clean clothes.

First, he chugs two of the protein shakes his fridge gets stocked with. It’s never been by his choice—and he never thought he’d be quite this grateful for modern packaging,—but today’s the day. Next, he chances a sweep through his room, snatching up sweats and then barricading himself in the bathroom. Despite wanting to stay beneath the hot spray forever, Steve rushes, concerned that you’re hurt in a way that wasn’t obvious.

He brings you another water and one of the shakes. He has no expectation of you wanting it. At the moment, however, there’s no other food ready to eat.

He grabs another washcloth, warming it under the tap, and slowly wipes at your face and hands. You certainly look terrible but luckily have nothing more than minor cuts.

Lucky.

He doesn’t feel lucky, and he imagines you don’t either.

“I’ll find you some place better in the morning,” he promises. “I’ll be out that door—“ he points “—on the couch if you need anything. I know you don’t want to,” Steve adds quietly, lacing his voice with as much reassurance as superhumanly possible, “but make yourself at home. You’re going to get through this.”

Before he can push himself off the floor, you grip his fingers in thanks, and he hopes, he wishes, he prays for that to be true.

It doesn’t feel like enough. It never feels like enough.

It’s small.

That’s good for your purposes of adjustment, and the fact that he’s never there (almost never) helps, too.

It’s all his stuff, not your stuff, but your whole life doesn’t exist anymore.

Jarvis, which is actually an AI wired through the walls or something, arranges for you to see your therapist via video chat on an enormous projection in the bedroom.

There’s a bedroom and bathroom. Theoretically, there is a grand common room just outside the door but you can’t.

“I’ve been told they won’t move you until a permanent place is found,” Dr. Lucien cuts in. You were staring at the door again, wondering. “Temporary shelters are so crowded right now people are getting transferred back and forth to wherever there’re beds. I’m told it’s no trouble to let you stay.”

Would Captain America kick you out?

“That’s good." You try to be brave. "I can do that.”

You work remotely—that’s always been easiest—and it’s a weird time where you have both less and more to do because the city is still in chaos, meaning you’re at your computer when Cap knocks before entering his own room.

“Hey,” he says carefully, “I just need to clean up.”

“Of course,” you reply automatically. In your mind, you shrink the world down to just the yard-long desk and this rolling chair. You focus on your screen and everything is fine.

Hearing the shower is no different here than that muted, rushing sound that came from your neighbor’s place before. You’ve had people you know in your space without much incident for a long time; the problem is mostly out there.

Cap leaves immediately. You almost don’t notice at all until a plate is plunked down on the desk.

“I’m gonna rest here for a bit if you don’t mind.”

“It’s…” You can hardly look up, knowing that he’s watching, knowing he can see inside this tiny bubble world you’ve managed to illusion yourself into. “It’s your room.”

“Turns out the couch is not very comfortable longterm.”

You nod and shrug. From the list of tasks left to complete, you’ll be working for a while yet.

“You got everything you need?”

He doesn’t lean in to make eye contact, you notice. He’s patient.

With twitching fingers, you pull away from the keyboard and slowly turn, controlling your breath to not seem panicked.

“I do, Captain Rogers. Thank you very much.”

His eyes are…not full of pity like you expected. He looks like a host eager to please a guest, but that’s ridiculous when you are indefinitely trapped here, constantly invading his home.

“Call me Steve, and I’m glad to help,” he replies softly.

In situations like this, it would be customary to say ‘no, I’ll get out of your hair,’ ‘I’ll just leave you to it,’ ‘please don’t put yourself out on my account,’ but that’s the thing: you cannot get out. You cannot leave. You don’t want to. You never, ever want to, and in this specific case, it’s actually Steve’s fault.

He raps his knuckles on the wood. “Little though it may be…”

Steve chugs a glass of water on his way to the bed—which you’ve made diligently every morning and changed the sheets twice now—and stretches across the half closer to the door. You’re comforted by the fact you didn’t steal the exact spot he sleeps in on top of bogarting his quarters.

You use his desk, you have clothes in the closet which Jarvis had someone bring you, and you etched out a corner of the bathtub rim for wash products. You’ve for sure done enough to invade already, so you stay silent and work while Steve falls asleep, snoring lightly.

You deep clean the bathroom one day when extremely restless, and although he insists you did not need to, Steve beams with gratitude.

You do a little more around the room, and a little more, and a little more.

The single room and en suite bathroom become your oasis, and—as promised—a safe space that you thoroughly dread leaving. The dread includes leaving Steve Rogers.

You know that all of those things will lead to another tragic episode once you have to move again. It makes you do more in hopes of being essential, of being needed to stay.

Steve pops his head in.

"Would you...would you want to watch a movie with me tonight? I checked out a few--well, I guess you'd call them 'classics' now--from the library, and I thought...maybe..."

With one flash of a smile, your oasis grows to two rooms. Life just might be fine again someday, just as he promised.

[Next Part]

A/N: I'm probably going to regret not just completing this before posting.

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp @rogersideup (tagging you because this kinda reminded me of your series Late Night Talking which I love so much!) @rogersbarber @blogbog710 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thiquefunlover63 @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay @astheskycries @veryprairieberry

[ironstrange1991]

Can't Live Without You

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Stephen is feeling lonely and doesn't know how to deal with his own feelings and needs.

Word Count: 3,1k

Warnings: SMUT: Male masturbation.

A/N: This is not my best work, but I am glad I'm finally able to post something. Hope you guys enjoy it and have a nice reading ;)

Stephen couldn't remember the last time he was completely alone in the Sanctum Sanctorum. Ever since the other Stephens arrived, he had gotten used to having them roaming within those walls, but both of them were out on different missions.

Defender went with Wong to Hong Kong's Sanctum and they would stay there for a few days and Supreme were in another planet with the Avengers. Wong not being in there  was the only reason he wasn't tormenting Stephen with the most boring tasks he could think of, but to be honest, Stephen was already missing his friend.

Christ, he really wasn't doing well to have gotten to the point where he missed Wong's nagging. In fact he was feeling alone. Lonely. That was the word he was trying to find to express the feeling he had been feeling in his chest all day. What a weird thing to feel.

He was missing you. You had gone on a work trip earlier in the week, but although you had promised to return in three days, it was Friday and he hadn’t had no sign of you other than the text admitting that you wouldn't be able to return before Monday.

He got angry when he read it. Not at you, but with the fact that somehow he was getting a taste of his own medicine: alone on a Friday night while you worked.

Of course he could come to you. Anywhere in the world, he could come to you, but he couldn't do it without you telling him you wanted so and every night you talked on the phone you didn't mention it. It wasn't like you suddenly forgot that your boyfriend could open a portal in your room to fuck you. No, Stephen was almost certain that you were using those days to distance yourself a little bit from him. Like a Stephen detox. After all, you had three of him and he admitted that they were not at all easy on you.

Stephen sighed, walking down the halls to the kitchen and took a good look in the fridge trying to find something to eat. There was leftover Chinese food he bought on Wednesday, two pieces of pizza he bought yesterday and some Tupperware with leftover food that he promised you he would get rid of and clean up, but he hadn't.

Shit, he was a terrible housekeeper.  It was pathetic, but it was true. Before you, he used to live of take-outs and the things that Wong cooked. Now he could barely imagine living the rest of the weekend like that. Obviously, he could try cooking. There were some half-finished things in the fridge, easy stuff, but he didn't want to risk setting the kitchen on fire, so he took the box of Chinese food and put it in the microwave to heat it up. While he waited, he took a piece of cold pizza and started eating while opening a bottle of beer.

He was starving and tired. He needed a good shower and a good night of sleep, but he hadn't been able to sleep well since you left. It wasn't a coincidence, you were the only person who could make him sleep when he was having one of his insomnia crisis. The methods you used were... how to say? Delicious.

He smiled to himself just at the thought of your nights together, then the microwave beeped  and he sat down to eat, but even that made him feel depressed. Stephen, who for many years lived alone and always thought it was great, now began to understand that he hated being left alone. He couldn't even conceive the idea of ​​living alone again.

He ate in complete silence and when he finished, he checked all the Sanctum seals and went up to his room. He crossed the room, getting rid of the boots he had worn all day and which were already making his feet hurt and took off the top of his robes,  took a pair of sweatpants from the closet drawer and headed to the bathroom.

The water was hot enough to burn his skin, but that was exactly how Stephen liked it. The fog fogging up the shower glass and enveloping the entire bathroom. Stephen let the hot water fall directly on his back and little by little he felt his tense muscles relaxing. He soaped himself quickly and washed his hair taking as long as he could and when he finished he wrapped a towel around his waist and dedicated himself to shaving. He was used to shave once every two days, goatee maintenance was a priority for him because he knew you loved it, it made him want to always make it perfect for you. In fact, as time went by, Stephen realized that everything he did was for you.

Finally, he threw himself on the bed feeling the tiredness of the day hitting him. He wanted to sleep, but he wasn't sleepy. That was one of the worst feelings in the world: being tired, but not being able to fall asleep. Usually you helped him in these situations, you made him sleep in your special way. God, he wanted you. He needed you.

He rolled over on the bed to reach the nightstand and threatened to take his sling ring, but stopped, scolding himself. Give her space, Stephen Strange. He thought, trying to convince himself, but the mere idea of ​​opening a portal in your hotel room made his body react instantly and Stephen sighed, realizing that maybe there was only one way to get through that hellish night without you: to handle the issue himself... thinking of you.

He let out a heavy sigh and shook his head allowing himself to run his hand down his abdomen imagining it was your hands reaching for his growing bulge. Stephen moaned softly with the contact of his hand on his cock even through the fabric of his pants. He was without a lay for five days. It was absurd to him, he couldn't imagine lasting another day without you and yet there he was being forced to resort to masturbation because you weren't there. It was unfair and cruel and he wanted to scream to the world that he didn't deserve to go through that, but deep down he knew he was being melodramatic.

When his hand went under his pants and his trembling hand made contact with his hard, sensitive member he closed his eyes immediately and your face was what he saw. You smiling sweetly at him. Stephen had an extra factor that made masturbation always intense: his photographic memory.  He could basically remember in great detail every moment you ever spent together, every touch, every kiss, every moan that came out of your mouth. It was all there in his head ready to be used like a movie whenever he needed it. And that night he needed it.

His cock pulsed in his hands the moment he closed his fingers around it. The tremor in his hand, previously a problem, was now an even greater stimulation that made jerking off more pleasurable.  Stephen had been working on it for some time. Hours and hours of physiotherapy to try to regain a minimum of strength in his hands that would allow him to pleasure himself without having to resort to magic. Of course, he would never admit that was the real motivation behind his decision to seek help after so many years. It wasn't significant enough to solve the problem, but it strengthened his nerves enough for him to gain the necessary autonomy.

Obviously he still preferred your hands. Oh god, your hands were magical. Much more magical than his. They were small and delicated and way they were soft and yet had a firm and insistent grip was enough to make him see stars.

"Fuck sweetheart..." Stephen moaned softly, moving his hands slowly up and down inside his pants. He didn't want it to end quickly. He was just working himself up, just letting his mind wander as he felt the sensation building inside him. His balls were full and sensitive. So much cum contained there. So much to give you, but you weren't there.

But if you were, he knew exactly how you would treat him. How you would get down on your knees and prop your body to show up your tits for him, how you would look him right in the eyes with that naughty face biting your bottom lip and then pull the hem of his pants to free his cock and how you would smile pleased seeing how hard he was for you.

You were so dirty, you loved sex as much as he did and he never needed to ask for a handjob or blowjob because you loved to give. You were perfect for him and he was irrevocably yours.

He moaned again finally releasing his cock and then conjured a bottle of lube in his left hand and poured some of the sticky liquid onto his cock and began to stroke himself slowly, but putting a little more firmness into the touch. In response his cock pulsed in his hand and his hips jumped up.

Oh you would love to see him doing it. You would praise him for it and would say how much you loved him and how much you adored seeing him pleasuring himself. You would call him Steph. Such a silly way of calling him, yet so sweet coming from your lips in your sweet voice. Stephen knew very well he loved everything you did.

He lolled his head back onto the pillow and bit his lip to hold back a loud groan.

Following the memories that played in his mind, he thought about how you always moaned while jerking him. How having his dick in your hands made you horny and how it always made him feel.

He thought about the way your lips curled into a shy smile every time he started talking dirty to you. How the grip of your hand got tighter, how you loved it. You were a dirty little thing. His dirty little thing.

Stephen let a louder moan echo through the room. You loved that too. The sounds he made when you held him in the palm of your hand. He closed his eyes and stroked his cock harder and faster. The tip was leaking precum and he was so ready to be inside you, but all he could do at that moment was think about it. And that's what he did.

He thought about how wet you always were when he touched you after you give him a handjob. How his fingers easily slid in and out of you and how you always squirmed around his fingers, begging for more. He thought about how you always begged for him. How you couldn't bear to wait, how you shamelessly opened your legs to welcome him in.

"Always so good to me." He murmured "My sweet girl is always so good to me."

Stephen started using his other hand to massage his balls too. It was how he liked you to do it. He liked to be stimulated as much as possible, he liked when you licked and sucked on his balls. He liked it dirty and messy and you knew exactly how to do it.

He knew you like no one else and he liked to think that even the other Stephens didn't know how to satisfy you like he did, but at the same time he liked to see them trying.

"Oh shit." Stephen was startled by that train of intrusive thoughts and increased the strength of his strokes as the room was invaded by the wet sound of his hands working on himself.  He thought about how he loved watching you get fucked by the other Stephens. It was no surprise, but the images that invaded his mind were of really intense moments and they almost threw him over the edge immediately, such was the strength they had as stimulation.

Stephen let out a breathy laugh as he shook his head in disbelief, but he did not try to change the thoughts in his mind, instead, he dwelled in those memories. How you always looked beautiful bouncing on top of Defender while you kept Supreme's cock in your mouth, and that bastard always fucked your mouth roughly and you loved it and Stephen loved the sound it made, the tears that ran down your eyes as they abused you.

Stephen thought about how he loved watching you get creampied. How delicious it was to see them emptying themselves inside you, to see you being violated by their release knowing that you would have to take one more.

His hands now punished his cock with a touch of violence and his mouth was half open, eyes squeezed shut as the images played in his mind.  He thought about the delicious feeling of fucking your pussy full of cum, how the wet squelching noise turned him on even more and how you always seemed gloriously spent after rounds and rounds with the three Stephens. It was pornographic, it was filthy and beautiful.

"F-Fuck yes." He moaned spurting his release all over his stomach and making a mess on himself. Still, he didn't stop, he kept bringing himself dangerously close to overstimulation as his mind focused on the expressions you made as your entire body writhed in ecstasy with your orgasm. How your cheeks would turn red when they were done and how sweetly you would smile at them. Almost innocent.

"Such a dirty girl." He muttered to himself, slowing down his hand until it came to a complete stop, but he didn't have time to recover as he was surprised by the sound of his cell phone ringing.

"Shit." He grumbled, wiping his hands quickly on the sheet and making even more of a mess when he turned to pick up the device on the nightstand and felt his release running down the sides of his ribs.

It was your name on the display. In fact, the word Sweetheart.

"Hey, sweetheart." He answered, still trying to regulate his breathing, but of course you noticed.

"Hey. I was wondering if maybe you’d want to..." But you stopped for a moment and then asked, "Were you running?"

Stephen instinctively cleared his throat. "What? No. I was..." But he couldn't think of anything to say and there was a silence on the line and then a little giggle.

"What were you doing, Stephen?" You asked.

He sighed feeling his cheeks get hot from the fact that he had been caught. There was no point in lying.

"I... I missed you, Y/n."

There was an affectionate hum from your side of the line.

"Well, I called to ask if you'd like to come and meet me now. I'm missing you too, Steph."

He chuckled nervously. "I thought you would never ask. I thought you were enjoying having some time away from us."

You giggled, "Don't be silly. I was just really tired. But it's okay if you don't want to come now that you've solved your problem on your own. Maybe you would prefer to go to sleep…"

But he was already getting up.

"Now who's being silly?" He ran to the bathroom and quickly cleaned himself up and went back to the bedroom to get his sling ring. "Remind me again what hotel are you in?"

"At the Plaza." You responded promptly. "I told you yesterday and I thought..."

But you stopped talking when the portal opened in your room and he walked through it, heading towards you and taking you in his arms in an intense kiss.

"I missed you. So badly." He confessed on your lips, letting his forehead rest on yours. You smiled, looking surprised by his confession and cupped his cheek. "It's only been five days, Stephen. You've already spent three weeks on a mission."

He shook his head, "It's horrible. Staying at home. Without you.

He confessed to which you smirked.

"Now you know how I feel."

"I'm very sorry." He said pulling you back into his lips.

...

Stephen was staring up at the ornate ceiling of your hotel room with a smile plastered on his face. Making love to you had that effect on him. His arm was extended so you were cuddled close to him, your head resting on his chest, moving slowly as he breathed. The two of you were silent, still enjoying the afterglow of your release and his heart was finally at peace. Outside you could hear the sporadic sound of cars passing on the street and conversations in the hallway.

"The sound insulation in this place is horrible. How have you been able to sleep here?" He asked breaking the silence and you hummed, apparently still unable to form a sentence.

"Your boss could have paid for a better hotel." He continued and you shrugged.

"I liked it here. The room service is great and the food too."

Stephen smiled to himself. You were always so satisfied with everything. You never complained about anything. Totally the opposite of him.

"Besides, I'm always so tired when I get here that I fall asleep as soon as I put my head on the pillow."

He nodded, stroking your cheek and was silent for a moment, just a minute, but long enough for you to tilt your head to look at him.

"What is it?"

"I think I made a discovery this week and it was kind of scary." He said already knowing he would regret what he was about to say.

You smiled convinced as if you already knew what he was going to say. "Did you find out you can't live without me?"

He chuckled "I already knew that. I just realized the obvious and it wasn't pleasant."

You frowned trying to understand what else it could be then.

"I don't think I can live alone anymore. Before, when I worked at the hospital, I liked the silence of my apartment, but this week the empty Sanctum filled me with horror to the point that I missed Defender and Supreme."

You smiled glancing at him "That's something I never imagined you would say."

"I never imagined I would feel this way, sweetheart. The truth is, I like them. I can talk to them in a way that I don't talk to anyone else."

"It might have something to do with the fact that they are you” You reminded him.

"You are right."

You brought your hand up to his chin scratching his goatee. "How are things at home? No problem, I imagine. No demonic entity has tried to take over our washing machine?"

Stephen giggled "No. All boringly normal."

"What a shame!" You said, feigning disappointment.

Stephen smiled to himself and lifted your chin enough for him to kiss your lips.

"I love you, sweetheart. With each passing day I love you more. You changed my life for the better and changed me in the process. I'm definitely a better man because of you."

You sighed softly, your throat bobbing. "Oh I love when you say these things to me, Steph."

He smiled, pinching your cheek provocatively. "I may not be Defender, but I know how to be romantic sometimes."

“Of course you do.” You smile "And I love you too. With all my heart."

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