#all of it is so fucking ordinary and then when I get inspired and I experiment I don't like it one bit cause it doesn't look like mine

[feminetomboy]

Going through a really big frustration phase with my art rn, please be patient with me (and by you I mean myself I feel the need to wrap my spine around a lamp post bites bites bites bites)

[blkkizzat]

☠︎︎ THRILLING GHOULS & SMOOTH CRIMINALS ☠︎︎

Halloween is my fav holiday and Horror is my fav movie genre so how could I not participate in a SPOOKY KINKTOBER!

update 9/15/24: im going to finish this list this year! just revamped the masterlist.

All inspired by my favorite horror villains!

song inspo: Thriller & Smooth Criminal cw: Blood play might be heavy in a few of these. Dubcon or Noncon in most of these but the reader will enjoy/consent by the end. Death but only of minor/NPC no name characters(ie, your fuckass bf, bitchy chem professor, next door neighbor, mailman, etc) and manipulation. schedule: gojo > geto > sukuna > nanami tag: will tag works #☾﹒✖☠𝘬𝘪𝘻𝘻𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘳

❝Girl, I can thrill you more than any Ghoul would ever dare try!❞

FreddyKruger!Sukuna

Kink Tags: Teratophilia, Size Difference, Virgin, Chasity Synopsis: Teens in town have been dying in their sleep from horrible dreams. Hard up virgin Y/N won't take sleeping pills to stop dreaming because she only gets relief in her wet dreams. What will happen when Sukuna (true form) enters them? wc: ?

Sadako!Geto

Kink Tags: Voyerism, Squirting, Overstimulation Synopsis: Camgirl!Reader hasn't been able to make herself squirt yet and is teased by her chat. She buys a new toy and downloads a random porn an anon user sent her "guaranteed to make you squirt" but is it just a normal porn? Or is there something more sinister on it? wc: ?

Werewolf!Toji

[Part 1 ღ Part 2] Kink Tags: Breeding, Dacryphilia, Aphrodisiac  Synopsis: Catching him in a lie, you suspect your boyfriend Toji is cheating on you. Where does he keep disappearing to once a month that keeps him away for often days at a time. You're fed up. You've made up your mind this time to follow him but are you ready for what you discover? wc: 10.4k

❝You've been fucked struck by a Smooth Criminal!❞

Ghostface!Choso

[Part 1 ღ Part 2] Kink Tags: Clothed Male/Naked Female, Thigh Riding, Knife Play Synopsis: The university campus is being terrorized by a copycat Ghostface killer. As a popular sorority girl with a dumb jock bf, you are a prime choice to be his next victim especially given how he can't stop thinking about you. But you're no ordinary Sorority Girl bimbo, now are you? wc: 15.4k

Hannibal!Nanami

Kink Tags: Olfactophilia, Body Worship, Menophilia Synopsis: You're immensely grateful for your kind, empathetic and open-minded (not to mention very handsome) psychiatrist Nanami who has gotten you through some very rough patches in your life. However when you show up at his home office for unannounced session and discover him preparing dinner, are you whats next on the menu? wc: ?

InvisibleMan!Gojo

Kink Tags: Mirror Sex, Frottage, Stalker Synopsis: Fed up with his antics and him ignoring you, you breakup with your tech genius boyfriend Gojo. It's been a month and you've started to move on with your life but odd occurrences have been happening around you and you have the feeling you are being watched 24/7. You need a vacay and your friend Shoko offers up her lake cabin. Will you be safe there? Or will whoever is watching you have you right where they want you? wc: ?

BONUS: Free for all section of general Halloween themes if I finish all the rest or need to do a quick drabble to cure writer's block.

*OUT NOW* mlist: That's Not My JJK Man! - teaser

Incubus!Geto - coming soon

The Hills Have Eyes Choso P1 *new*

Why you can’t watch scary movies with JJK men - Drabble, 2k words

Trick or Treat Anthology or Halloween Fluff with JJK Men - Fic 10k

JJK Men Slutty Halloween Costumes - Ask thirst

©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

[sulleeu]

VAN DER LINDE GIRL

arthur morgan oneshot!

pairing: low honor!arthur morgan x oc (name or looks not specified)

cw: please refrain from reading if you're uncomfortable with mentions of human trafficking, arthur is a selfish asshole, fingering, missionary, cowgirl, unprotected piv, alcohol abuse, manipulation to a certain extent, sex workers, Dutch owns OC, but there isn't a romatic relationship, OC is in love with Arthur, NSFW, MDNI

wc: roughly 2.9k

summary: Dutch has something Arthur wants. And if Arthur wants something, he's going to take it and claim it.

an: this is loosely inspired by Gibson Girl by Ethel Cain. i'd never dare to disrepect a song or an artist. please take it with a BIG grain of salt. i've recently became obsessed with her music and some of her songs had inspired me to write again. if you look at the lyrics of this song, i tried to incorporate them in this oneshot. i tried to capture the meaning of this song only very loosely in this oneshot - you may find some aspects of it in it with some of my own added pieces.

proofread but there may be grammar or spelling errors regardless.

tags: @frillydolle <3

➽─────────────────────❥

The evening air was sharp against his skin, like thousands of needles piercing his flesh, injecting poison into his veins. Beads of sweat rolled down his temples, his hair damp from the humidity surrounding him. He pinched the bridge of his nose and made his way through the camp toward Dutch's tent. The plan had to work tonight. The tension in his muscles, coiled and ready to snap, made his vision blur with rage, always on edge. And the only thing that could make it bearable was her. More specifically, sex with her. The countless nights spent alone in his cot, fantasizing about her naked body, his hand around his throbbing shaft—her breasts, the valley between them, her ass, the curve of her spine as it arched under the force of his thrusts. He imagined taking her, showing her pleasure like Dutch never could. There was nobody else, and he was so selfish about it. No other woman could rile him like she did. She occupied his mind, lived there rent-free, and it was driving him mad. The fact that she was Dutch’s most prized possession only made it worse. He swore he could burn down an entire town if it meant she was his and not Dutch's.

His steps were heavy with the weight of his desires. He rolled his shoulders in frustration, shaking off the chill in his bones, then cleared his throat before calling Dutch's name.

"How 'bout we saddle up and grab us a drink, son?"

The plan was simple: get Dutch as drunk as possible, preferably until he passed out, then ride to her house and fuck her senseless. He knew it would be impossible to get to her with Dutch always nagging about money. Arthur never understood Dutch's obsession with cash, especially when the infamous leader was secretly running a side business with working girls in Saint Denis.

The hustle involved private sex workers. Dutch would find young women, desperate for money and preferably without family, and recruit them to work for him. By day, they appeared as ordinary women on the streets of Saint Denis, but when night fell, they spread their legs for rich men in the privacy of their own homes.

The woman who consumed Arthur's thoughts was part of that hustle, and for some strange reason, she was Dutch's favorite. He kept her for himself, the selfish bastard. The knowledge crawled under Arthur’s skin, gnawing at anything soft or good inside him. All that remained was poison, disguised as jealousy and the burning need to possess her.

So, the two older men mounted their horses and rode out of camp toward town. The ride felt interminable for Arthur, his thoughts sinking deeper into a sea of frustration. He couldn’t help but fantasize about devouring her, marking her body with bruises of pure want. Dutch's words about the next plan seemed to fall on deaf ears. All Arthur could do was give him a hard stare, indifferent to whether Dutch noticed. After all, soon enough, Dutch wouldn't remember a thing about tonight.

They both dismounted, hitched their horses, and strode into the saloon, heading straight for the bar.

"Two glasses of whiskey, sir," Dutch barked at the bartender, slamming two dollar bills onto the counter. The bartender nodded, grabbed a bottle of whiskey, and poured two glasses.

Arthur watched Dutch down his shot, then raise his glass with a muttered, "To this night," before swallowing the thick liquid that burned its way down his throat.

A few more drinks and countless stories later, Dutch’s legs grew unsteady. After another two glasses and a heartfelt speech about how much he appreciated Arthur, his head dropped onto the counter, magnetized by exhaustion. Arthur patted his back, slipped a five-dollar bill to the bartender, exchanged goodbyes, and made his way out of the saloon.

The tension in his legs, fueled by the alcohol, only intensified. He could feel an indescribable warmth spreading through his flesh. A shiver of excitement ran down his spine, and his fingertips tingled with anticipation.

At half-past one, he knocked on her door. No answer. A minute later, he grabbed a cigarette from his pack, lit it, and took a drag. Then he knocked again, this time with more force. The door creaked open, revealing her face, peeking through the narrow gap.

"You open that door for just anyone?" he rasped, the cigarette swaying between his lips. "At this hour?" He raised a brow.

Without a word, she stepped back, revealing the interior of her apartment. Arthur took one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it to the ground and stepping inside.

"What do you want?" she asked, her voice thick with sleep.

Arthur moved around her kitchen, inspecting the utensils, the counter, the sink, before pulling out a chair from the table. He lowered himself into it, crossing one leg over the other. She stood there in her nightgown, watching him, before clearing her throat to repeat her question.

"What do you wan��"

"Heard ya the first time."

She stood, dumbfounded, scanning him from head to toe.

"C'mere." He motioned with a hand, and she hesitantly took a step closer.

Arthur uncrossed his legs, his hand resting on her hip, pulling her closer. She gasped meekly, shifting on the wooden floor.

"Ever get that feelin' like you're after something real bad, but deep down you know it ain't never gonna be yours?"

She stayed silent, the rhythmic thud of her heartbeat the only sound in the room. After a moment, she nodded.

"Hmm. Ever got it?"

She shook her head.

"Thought so. The difference between you and me is, I ain't waitin' around for nothin'. When I want it, I take it."

Her face scrunched in confusion, and she raised an eyebrow at him.

"That's why I'm here tonight. Dutch has somethin’ in his hands, and I aim to make it mine."

His thumb traced a slow, repetitive pattern on her hip, his eyes peeking up at her from beneath the brim of his hat like a predator in the shadows. She bit her lip, a heat blooming deep in her stomach, and she exhaled a slow breath.

Her hands found their way to his broad shoulders, the muscles rippling under his shirt as he drew her close. His arms circled her waist, pulling her between his spread legs. His nose brushed the curve under her breast, his lips pressing lightly against her skin through the thin fabric of her nightgown.

She tilted her head back, her eyes closing to absorb the feeling of his presence consuming her. The scent of gunpowder, sweat, and musk, tinged with a hint of vanilla, enveloped her, shutting down her rational thoughts.

When she opened her eyes again, she met his gaze—dark, hungry. She felt a surge of arousal between her thighs, and she rubbed her legs together. There was something so erotic in his eyes—the way he looked at her, the way his hands explored her hips and thighs, the fact that she was betraying Dutch and letting his trusted son make her feel this way. But it wasn’t like Dutch and she had a real relationship. He owned her body, not her soul. It was Arthur who owned her soul, pure and only his to do as he pleased. And he was about to claim it.

One of his hands slid beneath the hem of her skirt, his fingers grazing her knee, then moving upwards to the waistband of her bloomers. Her fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt, and he leaned in to kiss her stomach, his other hand pulling her bloomers down her legs.

Her eyes locked with his, the pupils dilated, as she pulled off his worn hat, revealing his crown of brown hair. He inhaled her scent deeply, then stood, grabbing both of her ass cheeks in his hands. She yelped, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling him into a fierce kiss. He wrapped her thighs around his waist.

It took him no more than a few steps before he laid her on her bed. Careful not to crush her, he laid her down on her bed, then pulled away from her momentarily to pull the shirt restricting him from further action over his head and he tossed it over his shoulder somewhere on the wooden floor. With a sharp pull of his teeth, he took off his leather gloves and dropped them on the pile at his feet.

She watched him with lust in her eyes, mentally stripping him entirely, piece by piece until there was nothing left. Her thighs rubbed together at the outline of his cock in his pants and he unzipped them dismissively with practiced ease to free himself from the unbearable restraint. Noticing her hungry gaze, he gave himself a few strokes which made her bite her lip and pull the nightgown over her head, too. He crawled between the sprawl of her legs, his breathing hard, his chest heaving and eyes churning with undeniable arousal.

"I want to claim you." The tone of his voice sent goosebumps and electrifying shocks down her spinal cord, the hair on her arms and back of her neck rising as he traced the back of his finger along her jaw towards the shell of her ear.

A shudder of breath came past her lips. His hands explored her pale skin, beautiful and neat unlike his—endless scars scattered across his torso, healed yet ugly and a constant reminder of the life he's living. His stomach was flush againt her own, his pulsating cock pressed againt her skin. She mewled at the marvel of the moment, gently slipping her hand between their bodies to seize his length, her fingers curling around it.

"Woman, you ain’t got the slightest idea what you’re stirrin’ up in me."

She gave him a few languid strokes with a flick of her wrist, her thumb coming to press at his slit on top and he shuddered above her, lips teasingly nipping at the skin on her neck, leaving a glistening trail in its wake. He thrust his hips into her palm, desperately seeking the friction he needed to ease the tension he had been suppressing all this time.

He felt as though he could shatter into a million pieces right now, and she would be there to gather them, to piece him back together. All his, not Dutch's. The primal urge to take charge, to claim control, settled deeply in his bones. The simple fact that she was now under his control, doing things to him he had only imagined in the solitude of his cot, was enough to shatter his patience in an instant.

He lowered himself to her face, capturing her lips. His tongue invaded her mouth and she gasped into the kiss, feeling his dick twitch in her grasp as she ran the pad of her thumb along one of his veins. She spread her legs around his torso, locking her ankles at his lower back.

"I want you to fuck me, Arthur," she cooed against his lips, her nails scraping at his back with each buck of his hips into her hand.

He groaned in response, pulling at her bottom lip with his teeth before lowering his head to the underside of her jaw, kissing his way down her collar bone until he reached her breast. His mouth closed around her nipple then suckled and her eyes fluttered shut. Her hand released his weeping cock and glided upwards his stomach, soflty ghosting over the density of his muscles before landing upon his hair and her fingers sweeped back the moist strands hanging down his forehead.

With a soft pop he drew himself back from her, catching a glimpse of her gaze and locking his eyes on hers. Something dark churned behind his eyes and she shivered underneath him.

Giving himself a few strokes at hand, he aligned himself with her entrance, hissed under his breath when his tip pushed inside and slipped in easily. She choked on her breath, scratching her nails down his back.

He set a slow, torturing pace, his thrusts tantalizing, hard yet slow. She squirmed under his frame and gasped a plea. His lips captured hers, tongue protrding inside of her mouth in a rough manner, the kiss aggressive, filled with passion and deep rooted lust. Her walls fluttered around him with each thrust of his cock, his hips flushed against hers with every glide of his length inside of her.

She gasped again and his lips were on hers, panting hard against her mouth. His hand palmed her ass cheek, pulling her hips closer to his to close the already narrow gap between them and to angle her to his liking. The tip of his dick hit that sweet spot inside of her, the action making her moan in surprise. He chuckled with satisfaction as he fucked her weak body into her sheets. She cried out his name again and again.

"Good girl," he drawled as he bit down on her collar bone sending her over the edge with a hard moan. He groaned against her skin as he came, too, filling her up with his spend.

She squirmed slightly, feeling his cum seep out of her pussy and trickle down on the sheets. He panted against her chest, his breathing slowly coming down to a haste. And after a couple of minutes his digits dug into the flesh of her waist, and he rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him in the motion.

She yelped in surprise, and in the brief moment of impact, braced herself against his chest. His calloused hands slid over her hips, gliding toward her waist before continuing upward to cup her breasts. A low groan escaped his lips as he kneaded the soft weight resting in his palms.

She bent down slowly, her hair framing her face as she landed a soft peck upon his lips before raising her hips and grabbing him at his base. He was quick to move one of his hands between their bodies, his fingers spreading her folds apart and circling her entrance. She gasped against his mouth, letting his tongue dive into her mouth with vigor. Her toes curled when his finger entered her, thick, long and hefty, and he marveled in her pants, possessiveness gnawing at his features.

She ground her hips into him, thighs trembling with anticipation. Her lips traveled along his jaw, stopping at his ear and biting at his earlobe while exhaling sharply. His hot breath fanned over her ear, the man whispering sweet nothings that echoed inside her skull.

"C'mon, baby," he mewled. "Give it to me good."

She sighed in response, releasing the skin on his ear from between her teeth and tilting her head to look down between their bodies. He leaned his forehead against hers, watching her align his cock with her entrance before painfully slowly sinking down on him. He watched the head of his length catch at the rim of her cunt before it disappeared entirely and she moaned into his ear.

Everyone seeks it, even Dutch. But in her mind, only Arthur could have it. There was no one else she wanted more. His strong arms, his eyes, his face, his broad shoulders and wide back, the way his muscles rippled beneath his shirt, the way his riding pants and chaps hugged his thick thighs and long legs, the way he handled a gun, and the cigarette that always dangled from his lips, swaying with every word he spoke.

"If it feels good, then it can't be bad," he whispered to himself.

Oh, boy does it feel good. The tension, the unspoken lust for each other, his cock filling her up, his digits dimpling her skin right above her hips. And she feels so immoral in his lap. Going behind Dutch's back. Fucking someone he trusts.

Her eyes closed as she kissed him again, lowering herself on top of his thighs until he was burried to the hilt. Her heartbeat picked up on speed, her breathing increasing and she took a deep breath, then rolled her hips on him and he moaned.

His jaw went slack from the sheer amount of pleasure, his breath catching in his throat as she continued to roll her hips on him. And he tried his utmost hardest not to flip her around and fuck her senseless. His arms twitching from the effort of holding back, his hips bucking up involuntarily.

The coil in the pit of her stomach spiraled, and she breathed out a sharp breath when the head of his cock nudged that deeply sensitive spot inside of her. His fingers angled her on top of him, the renewed spark circling in her guts as he kept hitting that spot repetitively, bringing her closer to the finishing line. Her toes curled again, her back arched into him. His voice distantly breathed a praise into her ear and she managed to choke out a quiet moan before the coil snapped and she awkwardly settled on top of his chest.

It took few more thrusts inside of her until he filled her up with his spend, the notion making her whimper in overstimulation. His hands came to hold her sides, one of them traveling further down to her ass and gripping the flesh tightly before delivering a sharp slap to her skin. She cried out in pain, curling on top of him.

"I own you."

[hannie-dul-set]

THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF.

p — CHOI BEOMGYU x gn! reader. g — humor, fluff. w — swearing, beomgyu is embarrassing but that's nothing new with my recent works. 1.6k words.

note — inspired by this post. i'm supposed to be studying rn.

everyone in your department knows that choi beomgyu is not to be trusted.

no, it’s not like he scams people with overpriced products on the university buy and sell forum. he doesn’t give you wrong answers during tests to fuck you over. he isn’t seeing multiple people at once behind their backs like a shitty fuckboy, either.

but when choi beomgyu tells you that there’s a buy one take one promo at the coffee shop near campus, you should probably think twice before rallying your friends over because of your shared coffee addiction. it’s the reason why hueningkai showed up to a department party last month wearing a penguin costume when the theme was business-casual. it’s the reason why choi yeonjun sends a string of curses to the group chat bi-weekly because he’s told that there’s a quiz today, only to arrive at an empty classroom.

it’s all harmless. it’s all fun and games and for a good laugh— but nevertheless, everyone knows to think twice before listening to the honeyed words that fall from choi beomgyu’s mouth. the problem is, the bastard is charismatic and he knows it. “he’s weaponizing his pretty face like a motherfucking gun,” you mentioned to soobin one time. so even if people are ware that he’s slimy little bitch that likes to fuck around a lot, they still listen to what he says. even when in doubt.

well, they’re all fucking stupid.

“hey, let’s compare hand sizes!”

and you refuse to be branded as a gullible idiot, too.

“what?”

the sandwich you’re having for lunch suddenly feels dry on your tongue. “gimme your hand,” he insists, and you narrow your eyes at him. what...what the fuck is this bastard trying to do? “i wanna know whose is bigger.”

now, that’s a familiar line. it almost made your heart flutter when he’s batting his eyes at you so expectantly with that pretty face of his from across the cafeteria table, the fingers of his right palm outstretched and ready to catch yours upon your consent.

almost. but there’s no way in hell you’re humoring his dumb ass.

“sure,” you respond. and, after wiping your lips with a napkin, offer out your open palm for him in the air.

his face brightens— a tiny smile pulling at his lips.

beomgyu reaches out for your hand. before he can press his palms against yours, you quickly fold it into a middle finger.

it’s almost funny how his expression quickly tumbles into despair.

“eat shit, motherfucker.”

you clean up your tray and leave your dumbfounded friend behind. you have no idea what his intentions with that was, but you aren’t risking making a fool out of yourself at the suggestion that beomgyu might be trying to (pathetically) hit on you. he’s probably just concocting some more mischief— especially since you’re one of the people he has yet to victimize with his dumb jokes.

so you’re not surprised when he makes another attempt. but what you don’t understand is why he keeps trying to hold your hand.

“booooring. this class is so boring.”

he’s sitting next to you inside the lecture hall. so far, not that out of the ordinary. you do your best to catch up with your professor’s discussion, but from the corner of your eyes you see beomgyu finally giving up and melting his head into the desk, burying his face into his arms. “this sucks,” he muffles, before craning his head and you can feel him staring at you from below. “aren’t you bored?”

“i’m trying to pay attention, beomgyu.”

“pay attention to me,” he whines. “i’m bored. let me scribble on your hand to pass—”

“please shut the fuck up.”

at some point, it’s starting to confuse you more than annoy you. all signs lead to a boy simply trying to get the attention of his crush, but this is choi beomgyu you’re talking about. you just can’t trust him. not even when he always tries to follow you around in the hallways. not even when he drops a warm latte at your desk every 7AM class.

“i know how to do palm reading. do you wanna—”

“i’m not superstitious,” you immediately put up your shield to his spear. “thanks for the coffee.”

you really don’t understand him.

“there was a hit and run incident yesterday. you should hold onto me just to be—”

“red light. let’s go.”

you seriously don’t fucking get him.

“aaaah! i’m falling! grab my hand, i’m falling to my death!”

what the hell is he trying to do?!

“beomgyu, it’s a four-foot deep pool,” you deadpan, face flushed and it’s definitely not just from the heat of the sun. he perishes into the water with a splash. my god, what’s going on with him? you shake your head, trying to ward off an incoming headache. 

really. if this wasn’t beomgyu doing this shit, you’d be a hundred-percent convinced that he’s trying to make a move on you. that he likes you and is trying his stupidest to catch your attention. but it is beomgyu, and everyone knows he can’t be trusted unless you want to be laughed at. being this week’s joke isn’t on your bucket list. so no matter how many more attempts he’s going to make, you will be impenetrable. you will not be fooled.

“hey.”

that is until he shows up all serious in front of your classroom the next week. 

students are pouring out from the door, and you’re a heavy obstacle from their rush to go home because for some reason, choi beomgyu is there— also obstructing the traffic flow in the hallway. 

“what is it now?” you cross your arms, narrowing your eyes at the worryingly large bouquet he has in his arms. “are your hands cold? do you want me to hold them to keep you warm?”

“that would be nice,” he replies. you seriously want to hit him. “but, no. that’s not what i’m here for. i decided that it might be best to stop asking for your hand because you might actually punch me this time.” this is a public area, you’d like to remind him. and that dangerously constructed statement of his is eliciting murmurs from the passersby surrounding you. you feel your face flush. 

“if you phrase it like that, people are going to get the wrong idea.”

“let them misunderstand, i don’t really care,” he shrugs. “what i care about is clearing up the misunderstanding between you and me. i don’t think we’ve been on the same page for the past few weeks.”

you furrow your brows. “what are you getting at?”

“taehyun told me that you think i’ve just been fucking around with you,” he says. “and i have to admit that i definitely have nothing to blame but myself and my reputation. but i want to tell you that i have been seriously, seriously serious about you.”

“sure,” you snort. “i definitely trust you, beomgyu.”

he frowns. “dammit, taehyun was right. you really don’t trust me.”

what did he expect? for the past year and a half that you’ve known him, he’s been nothing but unserious and troublesome. beomgyu brings mischief wherever he goes and you don’t want to make a misstep and be caught in that shitstorm— not even when your heart is racing a little too fast for comfort at the moment. not even when those flowers actually look really pretty.

“but i expected this. i’ve come prepared,” beomgyu tells you. what is it this time? you exhale. had he been normal, you might’ve trusted him at his first attempt to shoot his shot with you. “i’ve come to the conclusion that in order to get your trust, i need to stop messing around with everyone. and that begins with being completely, absolutely, unapologetically honest.”

again, this is a public area. people are staring and you’re starting to get a bad feeling.

“i’m in love with you.”

holy shit.

“i’ve been in love with you ever since taehyun introduced us to each other, i think.”

there’s fire somewhere. 

“that was over a year ago!”

that somewhere is your face.

“yeah, and?” he raises a brow. “that means i’ve liked you for over a year. i can do the math. i’m not stupid.” you want to throw yourself into a ditch and die.

“beomgyu, tell me you’re kidding.” not even your hands can fan out the inferno overtaking your face right now. somehow, there’s a lot more people around you than you remember, and while you’re suffering from a sudden onslaught of unprovoked feelings, beomgyu looks relatively unfazed. “you can’t be serious. if you’ve liked me for that long, then why haven’t you done anything until recently?!”

“funny story,” he starts. there is nothing funny about this at all. “i didn’t think i had a chance until soobin hyung told me you thought i was pretty the other week.”

soobin, that fucking rat. 

the context wasn’t even a positive one! you said he was using his pretty face for evil!

“i—” 

like what he’s doing now.

the words get stuck in your throat when you notice that beomgyu actually looks earnest. he’s not smiling or laughing— but patiently waiting for you to say something in response. your mouth is dry. your ribcage is shaking. it doesn’t fucking help that there’s three dozen people watching the scene unfold. couldn’t he have chosen a more appropriate place to pour his fucking heart out?

“you know what, let’s go.”

it’s an act of impulse. you quickly grab him by the hand and lead him away from the crowded hallway with hurried steps. “damn,” he says, trailing from behind you. “i didn’t have to try and convince you this time.”

what’s ironic is that this is the most honest you’ve ever felt of him. his palms are clammy and slipping through your fingers. he’s making jokes, but his desperate squeeze is telling you more than what he’s actually saying. “everyone knows to think twice before listening to me. but everyone also now knows that i’m pretty much in love with you, so that’s a win for me.”

THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[rini-rushed]

beloved pet.

☆ karasu x reader (gender not mentioned)

★ reader is pretty shitty all things considered | toxic couple dynamics | I DON'T CONDONE ANY OF THE (implied??) ACTIONS

notes: inspired by the songs beloved cat-> biz/LOLUET + my first time writing shitty people who're selfaware so please bare with me + ORIGINALLY was going to be kaiser but theres wine bottle hitting in the MV and i thought that i rather not write that

sypnosis -> during one night does karasu scale his surroundings like he does on the field, except now he uses it to learn more about the relationship he finds himself loving.

any normal person would leave right after you showed the signs, the signs that you weren't normal, you didn't think like a normal person, not normal about things, and sure as hell didn't do normal things.

but he wasn't exactly normal either, was he?

or maybe he was, and thats why he trapped himself in the cage of your love.

he didn't know how many hours had passed with this cold shackle grasping his neck, cold and barely heavy chains rolled off his shoulder and onto the bed, the curtains blocked the sky from giving him an idea of what time it was.

but all things considered, he knew he couldn't escape it.

he wouldn't.

even if the chain clasped around his neck and felt easy to break, Karasu knew better than to try and move against the impossible force, he knew his options were tied, but could you blame him?

you were just so cute and so eager to love him, and how could he refuse your affection? he'd be a fool to leave a ravishing figure like you, a fine little gal in a world of mindless fools.

oh but the pleasure of seeing you as a peer to a friend would be nothing compared to what the raven haired had felt a bit after the relationship was made official.

and what he found out after was nothing but a thrill to experience, it felt like with each day you spent together, the more transparent you became to him, more naked.

your silly antics like patting his hair, or whispering praises & cotton soft words, your soft caresses on his bed at night started to feel more calculated, oh he wasn't blind to any of that, you'd both be fools to assume that any of these things were to be gone unnoticed.

but he never minded any of it, especially if it meant you'd stay with him and kept lulling him to sleep with your soft charms, than his lips are sealed. whether he likes it or not.

karasu shifts in his spot in bed a bit more, feeling the shallow warmth over his body from his covers, it didn't even feel comfortable in his own bed anymore because of that fucking chain. it scales his senses to be chilly yet comforting, to remind him he's not alone.

it loops around his body, the most prominent one on his neck, that one was easy to feel, but there was soft weight rolling aournd his muscular torso, and even if the voices inside were whining and moaning to break the tiny metal vines, he ultimately ignored both the feeling and the voices.

it was easier to sit in this loving cage than trying to struggle to get out, even if the texture of the rusty chains would itch his skin like an annoying cat.

then came to the slightly more heavy metal bonds, cold snakes of silver could be felt entangled with his own legs, mocking the feeling of someone caring and cuddling with him as he slept.

as he drunk in his own observations of everything, he cracks open an eye, his surroundings confirmed himself to be on his bed, as for the chilly metal ropes he feels cuffing his limbs and neck..

his once vibrant purple eyes scale his physical surroundings, nothing out of the ordinary, just the way he had left it, he's about to lower his eyelids when a shiver seized him by the spine.

he tilts his head ever so slightly to see what was going on behind him, and thats when it hit him.

it was never chains or shackles or.. anything!

it was always you.

your legs in between his curled slightly around his thighs, your cheek resting on his nape buried deeper, your breaths pushing against his bare skin the intimate contact that wasn't even contact.

your arms around his torso only tightened ever so slightly, clinging onto him, bounding him to the bed, bounding himself to you.

like he was some pet, cuffed to their post, waiting for their owner to come home.

erm that was lowkey unorganized im sorry

#istilldontknowhowtoendthese...

@sharkissm cause you love ur man right...

tags:

@mininji @tofumiarchives @atlantic-sailor @the-lazyyy-artist

@rinitoshiplzdateme @fishii-writes @reapkusho

[redtsundere-writes]

OnlyFans | Toji Fushiguro

onlyfansboyfriend!toji fushiguro x femphotographer!reader

Sypnosis: You recently discovered that your boyfriend has an OnlyFans. You think he could look sluttier. Warnings: Minors do not interact. Mdni. Top!Toji Fushiguro, oral sex, smut, vaginal sex, rough and raw sex. Word Count: 1830 words. Author's Note: I was inspired to write this fic after reading @jujutsubaby 's headcanons.

Your feet were pedaling as fast as you could to get to your boyfriend's apartment. The wind rushed through your hair as you maneuvered the bike horns throughout the street. You just had been promoted, and you wanted to tell your boyfriend the good news in person. Maybe you could go to dinner and you would invite him this time. Toji was the one always taking you out to dinner every weekend, showering you with lavish gifts and sending flower arrangements to your office. You had barely been dating for 6 months, you didn't know what exactly he did for a living, but you knew he never had to worry about money.

You got to the apartment in record time and opened the door with the copy of the key he had recently given you. High-pitched moans along with your boyfriend's groans immediately caught your attention. "Fucking bastard, he's cheating on me!" you thought, filling up with rage. You ran to his room to catch him in the act, but you were the one who got the surprise.

You opened the door to his room and froze at the scene. Toji was masturbating his erect cock in front of a camera perched on a tripod in front of you.  He was moaning like a bitch in heat as he rubbed the tip in circles with his veiny hand while a purple cock ring at the base of his big dick. His body was oiled up, his lips slightly opened and the sound of his skin against itself created such an amazing erotic image that your panties got instantly wet. The high-pitched moans came from a porn video playing on his computer. You knew your boyfriend was a sexual beast, but you didn't plan to see him like that at that moment.

“Hello, my love, what are you doing here?” Toji asked, breaking the character he was acting in front of the camera. He paused the porn video, turned off the camera and sat on the edge of the bed as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. His cock was still erect, patient to be touched again.

“What the fuck is this?” You ask confused, pointing at the camera and his beefy, oiled up body.

“I'm shooting a video for my OnlyFans,” he answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. If your jaw was already on the floor, it was now underground. “Oh come on, honey, how do you think I paid for all the stuff I give you? By working honestly?” He scoffed.

“Do you have an OnlyFans?” You asked, processing the information you had just been given.

Toji sighed in disappointment and moved the camera out of the way to approach you. He could see in your reaction that you were disappointed in him. Toji Fushiguro will never quit his OnlyFans for anything or anyone in the world. Since he reached a thousand subscribers, he never had to worry about paying the household expenses or monthly school fees for his son, Megumi. He was a financially free man. He doesn't even remember when was the last time he looked at the price of something before buying it. In addition to the money, he loved the attention he received through the live feeds or the horny comments left on his nude photos.

“If it bothers you so much, let's call it quits,” he replied, annoyed at being criticized.

It was for this reason that Toji never revealed what he did for a living. He was already used to his girlfriends dumping him because of his work. Whenever he told them he was a sex worker, they would either freak out, break up with him or get jealous of his subscribers. It was a shame that you were like the others, he had grown fond of you over the last few months.

“What are you talking about?” You asked confused.

“I know you're going to break up with me. Just give me the key and let's forget this ever happened,” he said directly, extending his hand to you so you would give him the key.

“Toji, I am not mad that you have an OnlyFans. I am mad that you didn't tell me,” you replied annoyed.

He looked at you in surprise at the unexpected accusation. He really thought you'd go off like all the others. It was refreshing to see a girl confident enough to go out with him despite having over a thousand people drooling online over him.

“I want to see your pictures,” you asked.

Toji showed you his laptop with his OnlyFans profile. There were everything from pictures of him in front of a mirror in his underwear to videos of him masturbating. Toji didn't need anything else to be one of the most attractive men in the world, but his profile was very boring. Many of his photos were similar, and all the videos are shot from the same angle. A boring, bland and soporific profile. Toji could do much better than this.

From that day on, you decided to help him improve his profile to get more subscribers. You bought him lingerie, costumes, and sex toys. At the beginning you did it because you wanted him to win more money, but little by little he became your experiment. Every time you saw some hot guy doing something sexy on the internet, you wanted your boyfriend to imitate him. Your panties would get wet, and your nipples would get aroused every time you forced him to wear tight maid outfits, watched him masturbate live with toys you bought him or put him in different positions for the camera. Sometimes they would fuck after the photo shoot, but not when shooting videos.

As the months passed, they had reached 8k subscribers. To celebrate, Toji decided to do a livestream titled: “Fucking my photographer in appreciation for the 8k”. It was Toji’s idea. At first, you completely refused fearing that someone from your work would see it, but he convinced you by saying you could wear a mask and promised to take you shopping afterward.

You rented a room in one of the most expensive motels in town. The room was surrounded by mirrors covering every inch of wall, had a heart-shaped jacuzzi and a king-size bed with white sheets. The perimeter of the ceiling had purple LED lights that helped to conceive the sensual ambiance. You put on the latex bunny mask and a matching lingerie set Toji bought for you.

You lay down on the bed while Toji prepared the camera. He soon climbed on top of you to start the show. He pulled you close to his chest and kissed you passionately. Your bodies rubbed against each other, patient to get to the most interesting part, but you couldn't speed up the process. You had to make the spectators horny with foreplay. His strong hands roamed your lower back, molding your ass to his liking. His wet lips roamed over every part of your hot body.

Toji maneuvered you to his pleasure. He would put you in any position he wanted, rub his big member in any available cavity and make you feel like the only woman in the world. His sharp teeth bit into your bra to tear the fabric and take possession of your breasts. He licked, twisted and massaged your nipples, taking you on a non-stop aphrodisiac journey. Toji wasn't planning to hold back tonight. He was going to reward you for your hard work.

He whipped your body against the bed to get rid of your pesky panties. He stuck his head between your legs, sinking into your delicious shaft. Your back arched as soon as his tongue came in contact with your sensitive meat button. Toji ate you whole as if he had never tasted a bite in his life. You closed your legs due to the high level of pleasure, pressing against his head, but he forced you to open them again. He was a green-eyed predator watching his prey reaction as he tore it apart.

He sat on the edge of the bed and placed you on his lap. Your back was against his beefy chest. You could feel his soft pecs against your shoulder blades. He forced you to sit on his cock, facing the camera. His hands squeezed your waist to force you to ride his dick at an addictive pace you couldn't resist. His big member pounded the depths of your intimacy without any mercy. He spread your legs so that you were fully exposed to the viewers, he wanted everyone to see how beautiful you looked every time he fucked you.

“Toji~! Give me more!” You were a mess, you moaned his name every chance you got and gasped incoherently every time Toji pounded you with the almighty.

“Do you like when everyone sees what a slut you are?” I asked, smirking.

Toji could do whatever he wanted with you. You were his favorite toy, the muse he wanted to satisfy, the woman he owed so much to. He kissed your whole body, he fucked you until you forgot you were being filmed, and his passionate panting moans you crazy. His big cock hit all the right places as he hugged your waist to keep you close, as if you were going to escape. No one is foolish enough to want to escape Toji Fushiguro's strong arms.

“I'm cumming, Toji~!” You gasped as he stuffed you from behind.

The older one wouldn't stop moving even though he was sweating in places where he didn't know he could sweat from. He was ramming you full steam ahead, widening your insides and making sure to give you all he could offer. Your wet pussy could barely withstand the monstrosity he had. You moaned for more even though you knew you were about to cum. Toji decided to speed up the process, massaging your clit wretchedly. Your body contorted, falling victim to the brutal pleasure that coursed through you completely. A spasm took over your body, and you finally cum. It wasn't long before you felt Toji's hot cum invade your insides.

After a long livestream, Toji ordered food from the room service. You were eating burgers on the bed while watching Netflix. Your legs wouldn't stop shaking from the stress you had put them through. It maybe was an ordinary burger, but after three orgasms, it tasted like it was the best burger in the world. Toji put his arm around you to pull you closer to his body.

“You did very well,” he congratulated you. “We should do it more often.”

“I'll think about it,” you said with a shy smile.

His hand moved to your side, drawing your attention. Turns out he had hugged you to  sneakily steal a fry from your plate. You slapped his hand to make him let go, and he just laughed nervously.

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Masterlist.

[koiiiji]

Could you do some windbreaker characters with a fem gyaru s/o? I would specifically like Vinny you can chose any other character if you want :)

author note : OMG!! I searched some photos in pinterest, like inspiration for gyaru, and wooow!! i will definitely take some details into my style bc its sooo beautiful… i genuinely thought (idk why honestly) that gyaru is more like pink barbie in 80-90s style but it looks so cool i can’t!! sorry for such long reply, and we r mutuals so i feel even more ashamed :(( i tried with more characters but give up and done just these two!! hope you will like it💋🎗️

warning : pure fluff, vinny being softie and shelly cutie as always

vinny - he definitely have 0 idea about all fashion trends, styles and different subcultures aside from street racing… so he genuinely don’t give a fuck about your style, he crushing into person, not a pieces of clothes you wear, but once your dialogue went in all different direction, you explain him what your style specifically is and what inspired you to join this subculture, he take note in his head that as soon as he will earn more money he will buy you as many new clothes and other items as you wish.

it was one of your first dates, you were sitting together in some random cafe that you found on the way from the second-hand store to which you dragged Vinny to find new elements for your outfits.

“so… was it really necessary to spend solid 2 hours in that shop to find just few pair of shorts, skirts and belts?…” he began hesitantly, doubting whether it was worth bringing up the subject. do girls get angry if you ask them why spend so much time in the shops? should he change the subject of conversation? or maybe you want to discuss this trip to the store? it seemed that now Vinny’s brains would just explode, before you he had not had to communicate so long and closely with girls. when you looked up at him, it seemed to him that his heart skipped a couple of beats - your eyes literally sparkled with joy and fun.

"of course it was!! if you want to find really unique things, then there is no place better than a second-hand store! of course, you need to try to find something really worthwhile, but when you find that very thing.." you clenched your fists and squeezed your eyes shut, smiling so sweetly and swaying back and forth with impatience

"...oh right, let's go at my place today!!! i'll show you why we spent so much time there, these shorts and skirts will just go perfectly..." Vinny continued to listen as you happily chirped about your ideas of what to wear new things with, and it seems you also mentioned new places where you wanted to take photos together with him, and much more. at that moment, Vinny didn’t cared about anything as much as your smile. you were so sincere with him, you smiled so brightly, just like a little star in his hands, and he suddenly remembered that pleasant, soft and warm sensation in his chest, just like in rare moments from childhood. your touch pulled him out of his own thoughts as you gently shook his hand, looking questioningly into his eyes.

"didn't you listen to what i was saying?" you squinted suspiciously. "wh... what?.. no, i heard everything.."

laughing in response, you pulled him towards the exit of the cafe, in direction to your house. at that moment, it seemed to Vinny that there were no problems around, and he was finally felt like ordinary schoolboy. yes, you were the one who helped him still stay sane. you were his own little star.

shelly - 100% fashion intusiast so she highlighted your style immediately, and liked it!! as i mentioned before, she definitely would post tiktoks/insta stories with you, admiring how cool and beautiful her girlfriend is.

“hey, let’s go shopping together after school? how about finding some new stuff?” shelly said excitedly, coming up from behind and hugging you. it was the last day before weekends starts, so after school you could relax and go shopping in search of new things, maybe you will be lucky enough today and you will find some cool archive things from 2000s.

"oh my god, look at this!!" Shelly squealed in delight as she ran up to you. in her hands was Vivienne Westwood's archive white handbag, with silver chains as handles and with a distinctive badge. it needed a little repair, but for the price that was offered for this handbag, it was worth it!!

"Shelly is so cute, how did you find it?!" you exclaimed joyfully, picking up the bag from her hands and examining it from all sides. today it was a really cool piece, and after picking up a pair of pumpons and key chains for a bag, you headed to Shelly's house, deciding to celebrate this purchase with a sleepover at her house, her grandfather wasn’t at home, and he anyway liked when you two hang out together.

"what do you think about ordering something to eat and putting on makeup together? we can shoot something in tiktok! oh! or let's film unpacking for this baby, what do you say?" you asked her excitedly, as you remembered that Shelly always wanted to try your makeup style and clothes you usually wear. and she was so pleased that you remembered such little things that she mentioned once quite a long time ago, and they were deposited in your head. hugging you tightly around the neck and whispering a quiet thank you, Shelly took you by the arm and headed for her home, excitedly offering you ideas for posing and which sound you should choose for your tiktoks.

[sl33paholics]

Why Can't You Love Me Back?

Yan!Ali Jr x black!fem!reader

Warning(s): General yandere behavior, stalking, harassment

"Leave me the fuck alone."

Was something you said to the man you were once a fan of weeks ago, but how did it get to this point?

The famous Ali Jr., the son of the world's greatest boxers of all time, Muhammad Ali, was hitting on you. You always attended the boxing events where he was the main star fighting with someone else in the ring. Amidst the roar of the crowd and the energy of the fights, Ali Jr.'s charismatic approach caught you off guard. His attempts at flirtation carried a unique intensity, a blend of confidence inherited from his legendary father and a genuine interest that hinted at more than just a passing connection.

In the afterglow of the boxing spectacle, the buzzing excitement persisted as you finally found yourself face-to-face with Ali Jr. out of all the eager fans getting pictures and autographs. His attention shifted toward you, his gaze holding a certain recognition. To Jr., it was love at first sight. Your beauty seemed to have cast a spell, making that moment more than just a fleeting exchange in the afterglow of fame. With autograph and picture in hand, you left the buzzing scene, hyped up, and pumped that you got to meet the man you always wanted to see. However, unaware that this seemingly ordinary encounter would soon be one that you regret.

On his way back to the hotel, in the dimly lit interior of the limo, Ali Jr. couldn't help but replay the encounter in his mind. The city lights blurred outside the tinted windows as the hum of the engine provided a backdrop to his thoughts. "You seem to be deep in thought, sir," his driver would say, making a casual observation. Breaking from his thoughts, Ali Jr. met the driver's gaze with a thoughtful smile. "Yeah, I met this pretty lady at the after show, I hope to see her again." He'd simply say, looking out the window.

As more events happened, he'd see you in the crowd cheering him on. Your crop top hugging your breasts as you held up a large sign with his name on it, your presence alone made him want to win the fight just for you, and you only. It encouraged Ali Jr. to throw another harsh jab at his opponent just to show off how strong he was to you.

So when he asked you for your socials and phone number when the event ended, it caught you off guard, but of course, you couldn't deny the offer. He was your favorite!

It started off with a few compliments and replies to his Instagram story until it turned into full-blown conversations. Now, you could tell he was flirting with you through these messages, but you didn't give that same energy to him. Which he noticed, but Ali Jr. brushed it off and believed you were too oblivious to notice it via text.

On days free from the whirlwind of boxing events, Ali Jr. found solace in spending time with you. He'd whisk you away on rides, the city's pulse blending with the engine's hum as you explored streets together. You watched him spar at the gym with other inspiring and upcoming boxers. Ali Jr. would tell you stories of his childhood and his famous father.

To you, you only saw him as a man who wanted to become close with one of his dearest fans turned friend. Although, to Ali Jr., he saw this as an opportunity to court you and potentially ask you to become his girlfriend.

When the moment arrived, you surprised the boxer with a straightforward rejection. "I appreciate the time we've spent, but I gotta boyfriend, and I'm committed to our relationship. Let's keep things friendly," you conveyed. The honesty in your words made his mind go blank. Was it shock? Was it anger? He couldn't tell. Jr. stared at you with a terrified look. "Did I do something wrong?" Ali would ask. "No! Not at all, it's just that I'm not interested in you like that. At all. You're a cool guy with tons of skills, I just don't see myself being with you. Let's stay platonic."

Since then, he's been out of his mind. Those texts stopped for a while, and then it started to get excessive out of nowhere. Just leaving your phone down for a short time can have this man sending you over 50 messages. You no longer answer his calls. You told everyone around you of your encounter and called him "a weirdo." It was exhausting.

So many voicemails from this guy alone. Over a hundred messages, most of them are Ali asking why you aren't picking up his calls or not responding. The guy's voice ranges from pleading to frustration, and the tone is unmistakably hurt. Each message seems to carry a weight of its own, painting a portrait of a man grappling with the realization that his feelings are not reciprocated as he had hoped.

You can't even walk peacefully around the city without this man somehow finding you. It's as if he's always just around the corner, his eyes scanning the crowds for a glimpse of you. The encounters are awkward, filled with a mix of longing and resentment as Ali Jr. struggles to come to terms with your decision.

Now, you don't know how he found your address, but he's been sending you a ton of gifts lately. Surprisingly, they're things you always wanted, each one arriving with a little note attached. The notes are heartfelt, expressing his regrets and other times it's obvious flirtation. It's as if each gift is an attempt to bridge the gap created by your rejection, a silent plea for another chance. Sometimes, Ali isn't so heartfelt in those messages whenever your boyfriend comes to receive them at your front door.

Ali's messages become less heartfelt in those instances, almost passive-aggressive, hinting at a desire to undermine your current relationship. The gifts, once symbols of his remorse, now carry an undertone of possessiveness and jealousy, as if he's trying to assert his presence in your life despite your clear boundaries. The situation grows increasingly uncomfortable as the boundary between genuine remorse and manipulation blurs. It came to a point where your boyfriend begged you to go talk to the man after seemingly being followed by some of his men at one point nearby the residence.

Ali was so giddy to get a text from you agreeing to meet him late into the evening. His excitement was palpable as he hastily made his way to the rendezvous point. The night air was charged with anticipation, and every passing moment seemed to stretch into eternity as he waited for your arrival. It was a chance for him to express his feelings and plead his case once more, hoping that this meeting would be the turning point in your relationship. When he saw you approaching, he was going in for a hug only for you to move him away with your hand.

"(Y/N), I'm so happy to see you! I-I thought you hated me, so I sent you the gifts, and it seems like they worked," Ali exclaimed as he approached you, a mix of relief and excitement in his voice. His words tumbled out in a rush, betraying his nervousness. The gifts, once a gesture of his longing and remorse, now seemed to have shifted the dynamic between you. As he stood before you, his eyes searched yours, hoping to find a spark of forgiveness or understanding in your gaze. "Listen, Ali, what can't you understand?" You sighed, scratching your elbows. "I'm not interested in you at all." The words hung heavy in the air, punctuating the tension between you. Ali's expression shifted from excitement to disappointment, his features contorting in a mix of hurt and disbelief. The reality of your rejection seemed to sink in, casting a shadow over the hopeful anticipation that had fueled his eagerness to meet you.

"I won't accept that for an answer." Ali would say, making you raise a brow. "I spent my die-hard money on those gifts to make you happy. We went out together, called each other, and we texted each other every day!" Ali grabbed your shoulders, giving them a firm grip. "And you suddenly stop replying to me? You had me sick and worried. No texts back, no calls back, NOTHING! Why did I have to resort to shit like this?!"

"You stupid ass! You harassed me after I rejected you to be your girlfriend. I told you I have a boyfriend. Sorry to hurt your feelings, but that doesn't mean you have to blow up my PHONE!" you exclaimed, your frustration boiling over. Pointing your index finger at Ali, you made your feelings clear, leaving him looking at you in shock. "Somehow getting my address and sending stuff I didn't ask for? Your men following (B/N)?" The accusations hung in the air, the intensity of your words reflecting the depth of your exasperation. The two of you went back and forth, of course people around the area watched you two bicker at one another, some even recording.

"I'll say this once, leave me the fuck alone. I don't want you near me again," you stated firmly, your voice cutting through the tension like a blade. The weight of your words hung in the air, a final declaration of your boundaries and a stark reminder of the consequences of crossing them. Ali stood before you, his expression a mix of shock, hurt, and realization. He watched you stomp off to your car while standing there.

As much as your words hurt, Ali couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. He was happy that he got to meet you face to face after weeks of being ignored and unanswered. To see you in person instead of through a photo and video made Ali excited, as if he's meeting you for the first time again like he did that faithful day.

Ali wasn't going to back down. No matter what. The man was determined to find a way to win you over, to change your mind about him.

[petrichorca]

Hello, I am slowly figuring out how to use tumblr effectively. I thought I'd give an update on fics I've written in 2024, but keep forgetting to talk about here in a meaningful way.

As We Go Hand in Hand (explicit, gentlebeard, 7100 words) follows Ed as he processes the past few months while living on the island with Stede, massively in love but struggling with himself. I wrote it while feeling a lot of delayed grief around the (confirmed) s2 cancellation, and while it's sad at points it's also quite romantic I think. I really love this story.

Behind Closed Eyes All I See is You (explicit, gentlebeard, 5300 words) is a smutty PWP my dear friend @chaoticturtleturtle invited me to write with her. Stede lets Ed take the lead in a scene with some sensory deprivation, pwp, and aftercare.

like sugar to my heart (mature, gentlebeard, 4200 words) is a silly fic I wrote for my Animorphs OFMD AU co-writer as a birthday gift. Our blue four-legged four-eyed mouthless alien Stedeth gets foiled by a vending machine (based on the tumblr art of the giraffe centaur), and Ed consoles him.

like a bird (teen, gentlebeard, 3700 words) with @ghostalservice gives some backstory about Stedeth's life prior to the events of our 177k fic and features some very cute art of Mary and Stede's children (as Andalites, of course) by @theogem

Stede’s Cursed Red Suit as a Metaphor for Grief and Moving On (teen, stede + izzy, 1717 words) explores the squishy time of season 2, episode 5, and the dynamic between Stede and Izzy in season 2 overall. I am also obsessed with how Stede acts in the cursed suit. I find their s2 relationship really interesting so this is me looking a bit at that via a missing scene starting with Stede yelling OH FUCK OFF.

Calypso’s Dawn (explicit, gentlebeard, 1800 words) centers around how Ed made his boyfriend blush the morning after Calypso's birthday and how Ed feels about it. I love this fic. I've been trying to challenge myself to write more self-contained, shorter stories and this one turned out really well imo.

Life as a Series of Forward Rolls (teen, gentlebeard, 9900 words) features Stede running into his teenhood crush, the gold medalist in men's gymnastics from the 1996 Olympics. This fic also centers around a Barbie doll in Ed Teach's likeness, which @swashbuckling-sweethearts made an INCREDIBLE art of (embedded at the end of the story), inspired by my own 1996 Olympics Barbie. Silly and light modern AU!

Did you mean to do that? (teen, gentlebeard, 700 words) explores Stede's grief around Ed dying, even when he knows Ed is alive. I had no idea I would be so interested in writing missing scenes, but long conversations with friends have really ignited me in exploring these. (The length - I was trying to channel @brigdh, whose ability to write devastatingly brilliant drabbles inspires me, and I'm pleased with this one!)

Perfectly Ordinary Tuesday (mature, gentlebeard, 4900 words) with @ferventrabbit follows Stede and Ed deciding to get married on a perfectly ordinary Tuesday, and drag their inn guest Dave along for the ride. We split up writing the vows, and I balled my eyes out writing mine and then reading em's. This story is fluffy and fun, and it was a great way to start 2024. :)

What's next: I'm working on or noodling a lot of projects, solo and with different collaborators. Imminently, I've got a fic with @veeagainsttheday coming for AUpril on April 1st. Hoping to get something else out in April for @ofmdjanuaury's AUpril 2024 event, which I highly encourage folks to check out - it's for all sorts of creators!

@ghostalservice and I continue to think about our blue alien Stede and his human boyfriend Ed. Wanna Fly Away was such an important project to me while we were writing, and it's become even more special as folks find it. WFA now has art embedded in most of the 15 chapters, so if you haven't seen those check it out. More to come in that space.

Where was I going with this? Well, I suppose I want to say I'm still here. OFMD changed my life, and the OFMD fandom community is deeply important to me. I still hold out hope for a third season, or a follow-up that brings us more closure, but no matter what I'm still thinking about our pirates and will for a long time. If you read this far, thanks for being part of my community. <3

[lovelybucky1]

a little gross drabble inspired by @hanasnx’s most recent hayden thirsts

warnings: gender neutral!reader, armpit kink, scent kink, teasing, playful bullying, fwb, mentions of sex, dont like dont read, 18+ minors dni

masterlist

you and anakin have been friends for almost half your life, ever since he came to the temple to begin his jedi training. you’ve grown up together, and while your friendship was innocent and nothing more as children, as you got older, your eyes started to wander.

being as close as you two are, it was only natural that your sexual experimentation was done together. you swear you and anakin have tried everything, and you feel there isn’t much left to experience.

now in your early twenties with the innocence of childhood long gone, you would describe your relationship with anakin as friends with benefits. you love him, of course, but the idea of dating him makes you want to gag. you’re best friends who just so happen to fuck, because they just so happen to know everything the other likes in bed.

seeing as you’re just friends, anakin has no qualms about bullying you. he’ll play pranks on you, flip you on your back during sparring, use the force to hide objects and move chairs out from under you. you try to give as good as you get, but with his size and strength, he does have an advantage over you.

you’re pretty open with anakin, he is your best friend after all. you don’t have many secrets, and he knows you very intimately. what he doesn’t know, however, is how much you like it when he stinks. every time you train with him, or even stand next to him, you try to get a whiff. he smells so masculine and strong and it makes your knees weak.

you know it’s gross and embarrassing and abnormal.you know you could never tell him because he’ll never let you live it down. he’d constantly be riling you up just to leave you hanging, aching. that’s why you’ve kept it a secret… up until now.

you were in the training room practicing your hand to hand, nothing out of the ordinary. you almost had the upper hand until anakin wrapped his arm around your neck. the crook of his elbow cradled your head and he pulled you in, effectively preventing you from going anywhere.

the issue was, your nose was pressed right into his armpit. his musk was strong, having accumulated after hours of fighting. the shirt he wore was wet with sweat and the scent filled your nose. it smelled good; anakin always smelled so good. it smelled like sex, like pleasure, and you wanted all of it. combined with him physically restraining you, using all those muscles against you, your head started to spin.

“are you sniffin’ my pits?” he asked after he heard you take a deep inhale.

immediately you began to stammer, trying to come up with an explanation.

“no, i just-” you started, voice muffled by his arm.

“nah, you are. how’s that smell, huh? you like that?” he said, voice teasing.

mercifully, he gave you some slack to pull your head back and look up at him. your eyes were glassy and lust blown, even after something as simple as that.

“what’s that look for?” he asked

“nothin’”

“nothing? then why do you look like you’re about to cum in your pants just from smelling me?”

you couldn’t meet his eyes. “smells good.”

he let out a chuckle. “don’t get shy on me. i know you have a thing for it.” you looked up at him with wide, worried eyes. “you’re so fuckin’ obvious. i haven’t worn deodorant in months just so your slutty ass could get off on it.”

“h-how did you find out?”

you want to evaporate, melt right through the floor to escape this humiliating conversation.

“i know my workout clothes don’t magically disappear from my room and end up in yours,” he rolls his eyes. “and you always stand right next to me, especially when it’s hot out, and… you’re always more desperate for me when i’m sweaty.”

“anakin i’m-”

“shut up.”

“what?”

“shut up. i don’t care what you’re into. honestly i think it’s hot that you want me so bad you’d sniff my dirty clothes just to get off.”

anakin let you go and stepped away from you so he had enough room to take off his shirt. he tossed it to the floor and let you admire him in all of his tanned, muscular glory. he raised his arms and clasped his hands behind his neck, putting both of his hairy armpits on display.

he smirks at you, “go ahead, it’s all yours.”

[trashytoastboi]

~Seven Days of Sin Event~

Obey Me!

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

To Corrupt an Angel - GN! Reader (NSFW)

Solomon x GN! Reader x Simeon

WARNING: NSFW (Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, lowkey Dom/Sub dynamics, Overstimulation, Threesome, Corruption Kink, Teasing, Fingering, Oral, Missionary, Doggy, Riding, Mating Press, Dacryphilia, Masturbation, Virgin, Hair Pulling, Begging, Orgasm Denial/Edging, Mild Choking, Anal (kind of), Face Fucking, Biting, Body Worship} 

Word count: 7,897 words

~~

{Name} departed for another night at Purgatory Hall; this was a regular occurrence and normal for them to go over at least two times a week, Solomon and {Name} started a relationship that ran a little deeper than their friendship. Something akin to friends with benefits, and them constantly coming over to spend time with Solomon wasn't exactly out of the ordinary. Besides for the most part, they were discreet and everyone knew none the wiser, aside from the more intuitive people like Barbatos and Lucifer could see the telltale signs. Most assumed it was just Solomon offering guidance in regards to their magic, seeing that they are both human. I mean after all, they're friends so nothing wrong. At first it was innocent, Solomon simply wanted to offer companionship, friendship and comfort knowing that humans are somewhat of a rare commodity within the Devildom. {Name’s} innocence attracted Solomon’s attention, invoked a protective streak until he grew addicted to all of their little expressions, sounds and reactions he could pull from them with every increasingly bold act. Until he, well, in a sense corrupted {Name}. Giving them the first taste of what the human body could offer, ironic isn’t it, surrounded by demons and yet they fell to temptation at the hands of a fellow human. 

Simeon stayed up later than his usual time, writing as the spark of inspiration struck. Not exactly at the most opportune time however Simeon would never complain even if it required he burn some of the midnight oil. He slumped against his desk and rubbed his eyes from the creeping exhaustion. Simeon rose to his feet and wrestled with the idea of going to sleep or trying to get a few more lines out. Well, he'd decide after a drink of water and then probably turn in for the night knowing himself. Quietly he clicks the door open, taking care not to move the handle too quickly in case the metal squeaks as obnoxiously loud as it does on occasion. Practically tiptoeing he makes his way in complete silence. He downs his glass of water that leaves him feeling a little more refreshed. Simeon sets the glass down on the counter. He heads down the hallway back to his room, the silence is disturbed by the slightest, whimper? Simeon questioned if he heard that correctly, he noticed the sound coming from the guest room where {Name} is staying, and holding a genuine concern he pressed his ear against the door. “S-Solomon wait! Mnnn…” their voice rang out sweetly with a moan that made the angel blush furiously. “It's alright baby, just trust me.” Solomon's voice joined in their symphony, almost sounding breathless and strained. The heat crept and spread from Simeon's ears, cascading down his face and neck. Those kinds of sounds were pretty obvious and he could only imagine what was happening. “Surely not..?” He tried to reason with himself, shaking the very thought from his mind. “It's none of my business anyway.” The moment when Simeon turned to leave, {Name's} voice cried out, and that initial heat traveled further down. Simeon ran back to his room. His face, heart and mind are all in a mess, it's so easy to misunderstand those sounds, their sounds. They are so pretty…so licentious. Simeon felt shame when he saw his own state of arousal. His hardened cock strained against his clothing. 

The discomfort is too great to ignore or sleep it off. Simeon laid on his bed, trying to force sleep against the repeating sound of {Name's} moans that played in his mind over and over again. His thoughts began to stray, wander. Crossing into a curious and unfamiliar territory. Simeon admittedly never felt curious about such things, never felt the impulsive tug to stray down the path of temptation. Somehow, just the imagery of {Name} in that light, wondering how their body would look? How would it feel? How sweet would their lips taste? And how warm would their skin feel against his body? The thoughts drove the poor angel borderline mad. Madness would be the only reasonable explanation for his actions. Simeon slid his hand down between his thighs nervously, “Oh…” a foreign sensation arose, he turned to bury his face in the pillow as he palmed against his erection. Even just over the cloth of his pants felt so good. Was this pleasure? Simeon tasted this gratification for the very first time. He whined softly, biting the fabric of his pillow between his teeth to muffle the sounds, sliding his hand into his pants. Uncertain of what exactly to do, he caressed and touched his cock, noting the sensation every time he ran his hand up and down was immeasurable to anything he'd felt before. “Would this feel even better if it was {Name}?” Simeon thought, imagining their hands. Touching him, teasing him and stroking him the way he is doing to himself right now. Simeon's body trembled from the sensation that took him, a strange tension that wracked through his body something he could only describe as pure bliss and the afterglow as he came down from that high. He sighed with a soft moan realizing it was an orgasm. His first taste of physical pleasure. Not to be misunderstood, Simeon is not oblivious nor a complete stranger to such topics and knowledge. All the knowledge he possesses is purely theory and never had the opportunity to be applied practically. Up until this point in his very long life, the angel has never felt any urges or need to experience it. 

Simeon probably felt more ashamed than he ever had in his whole existence. It manifested in all of his awkward mannerisms. Luke sang and chirped happily while making pancakes asking for Simeon to help, which he was happy to welcome any form of a distraction. Simeon however, even when doing something that he enjoyed, was too distracted. Making obvious mistakes, mixing up the amount of salt versus sugar, blundering the cracking of eggs till there was more shell in the batter than egg. Luke eventually banned him from the kitchen, sending him off to set the table. Simeon was completely out of it, and had not made a single inkling of eye contact with {Name} or Solomon. He mumbled out a stuttered good morning which vexed the both of them as to his sudden shift from his usual self. It’s not as if they knew that he had heard the two of them, nor that he made his own assumptions. It was a stretch to believe those sounds were innocent, and yet Simeon grasped at those straws to convince himself.  Especially after he imagined {Name} in such a manner, and all the things he wondered about what they would do to him in the fantasy. Solomon smirked, noticing all of his strange reactions. His absent mindedness and sneaking glances at {Name} only to fire up in an all too obvious blush on his face and ears. Solomon clicked, the shadows under the door and the little scurrying figure wasn’t all in his imagination. Arguably he felt Simeon’s presence, and thought nothing of it. Wholeheartedly believing the angel would just walk along and ignore what happened behind the door.

Days after the little incident and blatant avoidance. The awkwardness began to settle enough for Simeon to be around {Name} again. He became more relaxed, complacent since ‘that’ hadn’t happened again. He was tired, probably delusional from the exhaustion, and imagined that. Those lustful urges tugged for attention in the back of his mind, Simeon pushed them aside and ignored them easily enough. {Name} reached up to touch his forehead, he flinched away from their touch. “Sorry, wanted to check and make sure you were okay.” They offered a stiff smile in light of the strange atmosphere. “T-That’s okay.” Simeon cleared his throat and tried to force the words out as naturally as he could. “I’ll see you later.” {Name} said before leaving, curious they would say that when the day was nearly over. It came to his ears last that {Name} would be spending the night at Purgatory Hall that evening yet again. Simeon sat on his bed, staring blankly at the novel he picked up to read. After reading the same sentence for the umpteenth time he resigned to the fact he would not be able to read further. His brain begged for an answer to his incessant questions. Would they be doing that again? Would he be able to hear {Name’s} sweet voice again? Simeon repeated the question again, drawing up not a single answer but rather a slew of potentials. Could be this, could be that’s. So he did the only reasonable thing he could have, he wanted a glass of water. Taking a few quiet steps in the silence of the late night, he heard it again. Simeon did truly plan to just walk past, not repeat his mistake from last time and linger a little too long. Surely just a little wouldn’t hurt? To Simeon’s pleasant surprise, the sounds leaked out from {Name’s} room, growing louder as he got closer. He could hear Solomon’s voice groaning in content. To further Simeon’s surprise, the door is cracked open just a little, ever so slightly, enough for him to glimpse inside. The scene inside showed {Name} on all fours atop the bed. Their hands gripping and bunching the sheets below while their chest heaved with breath. Their forehead painted with a light sheen of sweat, eyes glossed over and biting their lip as their body practically fell forward with every hard thrust from Solomon. Flashing a knowing grin watching how {Name} fell apart from his cock. “Feeling good baby?” He emphasized his words with a chuckle. “Sol- I can’t...hng-” moaning made the words fall short, unable to even string together a single sentence. The heat spread through Simeon’s body again, that same demanding urge. He turned on his heel and ran back to his room. 

Solomon watched the figure leave, his lips curled into an all too familiar smirk that meant things were working out exactly like he anticipated. He leaned down pressing a soft kiss to {Name’s} back, resting his forehead against them as he reveled in the feeling of them cumming around him again. “Solomon…” they whined his name. “Hm?” He turned his full attention back to {Name}. 

Simeon held his breath in fear of his voice being too loud. The lust consumed him with a fast and fierce blaze that had him cumming not even after a few touches. He'd barely touched himself and found the same release he'd craved since the first time, was it always like this? He let out shaky breaths afraid of raising his voice. The need did not dissipate, the aching feeling only got worse. Desire in its purest form, and for him, with everything foreign, strange and new. The first experience, and taste of pleasure. A sinful indulgence in which he should never partake. A stinging sweetness laced with guilt that could easily be swallowed down with wanton pleasure. His impatience and temptation for something more real than his fantasies grew and Simeon could not handle it well. 

He avoided breakfast. He couldn't bear it, facing {Name} the person of his desire, and Solomon who evoked what could be considered envy, Simeon could not bring himself to be in their presence. After what he witnessed the previous night, what he heard and touching himself to the very thought of wishing it was him doing those things and not Solomon. Simeon heard through Luke that {Name} would be spending another night, sure seeing them a couple times a week was normal, but consecutive nights? Not so much. Colour him surprised, the news practically wrecked his mind for the day. Left unable to concentrate and distracted, his mind constantly fell back to thinking about {Name}, would he be able to see them in such a manner again tonight? No. He really shouldn't. It was already bad enough to be sneaking around, not once but twice. The second time where he was no better than a peeping Tom. Despite Simeon's arguments, protests against himself, here he is. Once again, outside of the guest room door. The door that so conveniently had been left slightly ajar, inviting him to peek inside. Simeon glanced inside, {Name} was sitting on Solomon's lap, their back pressed against his chest and their thighs spread wide apart. His hands mapped their body, teased their chest while occasionally rolling their nipples between his deft fingers. His fingers drew a line from their lips, down their jaw to their neck and shoulders. He pressed kiss after kiss, lingering to suckle and nibble at the skin. They leaned their head against his chest, Solomon perked up “Looks like our guest is here.” he whispered to {Name}. Their mind however, proved to be far too occupied to take any real note of his words. Especially not registering the news of a guest. “Why don’t you come in Simeon?”

Simeon felt his blood run cold, heart hammering away in his chest from fear of being caught. Did he know? Did Solomon know that he was there the whole time, now and before? Simeon debated running back to his room, admitting his guilt and trying to forcefully forget everything that he witnessed. Flight or fight, in Simeon’s case, freeze. He stayed glued to the floor unable to leave nor enter. The lack of response had the sorcerer sighing and with a gesture of his hand easily had the door flying open with Simeon tumbling inside. {Name} jolted from the startling sight of a familiar person stumbling into the room. In their embarrassment they frantically tried to cover what they could of their body, Solomon’s hands stopped them in their panic. “No, baby. Let him see you. Let him see how pretty you are for me.” 

Simeon gazed upward, his expression flustered and showing nothing short of shame. He felt even worse for getting caught. His eyes fell to the floor and fixated on the edge of the bed, uncertain of where he could look. “Simeon, eyes up here.” Solomon said. Reluctant though not refusing the invitation his eyes drifted up, higher and higher till his gaze met {Name’s}. Their eyes were not the only things in his line of sight, the entirety of their body on display in front of him. Solomon traced his fingers along their thighs, closer and closer, stopping to shift its direction and glide up their navel. Teasingly, for both {Name} and Simeon. He inched closer, lightly dragging his finger down {Name’s} inner thigh. Solomon took one long stroke, smirking when he felt how ready they already were, not that it ever took much. He circled his fingers around their sensitive spots watching how their body shuddered and melted into his touch. Solomon moved his fingers with practiced and precise finesse knowing exactly how to touch {Name}. He knew their body all too well, enough for a few of his touches to make them fall apart. “This is what you wanted to see, isn’t it?” Solomon directed his question to Simeon, accentuating his words as he slid one of his long fingers inside of {Name}. Simeon had a front row seat and he could see everything, hear every lewd sound and observe every tiny reaction straight from them. The mesmerizing way their chest rose and sank with heavy breath, how the pleasure would cause them to tremble from being touched. How beautiful, Simeon thought. 

Moments pass, his eyes never budge from the display before him. The only thing that snapped Simeon out of his trance was the nagging ache between his legs that had him squirming and trying to hide how uncomfortably hard he is. Solomon proceeded with his delicate ministrations, {Name} slowly ground their hips against his fingers as he added a second finger following a specific pattern of movement at a set pace. The goal after all is simply to tease and prepare. They leaned their head back against him, turning to place messy kisses along his neck when they weren't floating up in the clouds. Solomon’s fingers always were impeccably dexterous, one in, then two, then none. His odd little counting game with fingers before surprising {Name} with three, sinking them as deep as he could and intentionally bumping against wherever they felt good simultaneously using his free hand to wrap around their throat, then changing to roughly grab their chest.  “Cum for me baby, show Simeon how pretty you look when you cum.” Solomon encouraged {Name’s} body as if following instruction came undone on his fingers while he continued to whisper sweet words of encouragement. They slumped against his body, needing a moment to gather themselves and catch their breath. Having an audience made them so much more aware of everything, far more perceptive to the sensation of his touch. Solomon kissed their head, “I honestly thought you would have joined sooner. That’s why I left the door open for you.” Solomon’s eyes fixate on Simeon’s, his pallor flushes with his embarrassment. “I…I…” he stuttered over his words, unable to muster any when brought to the forefront. “So? Don’t you want it…The real thing?” Solomon asked, his fingers spreading {Name’s} thighs in front of Simeon, inviting him to make his fantasy real and fall to his first real temptation.

All of this sent the angel’s mind into a frenzy, he wanted to touch them. Perhaps in his life he had never wanted anything more. Some reservations existed even now. He argued with himself, however, his desire to pleasure them seemed all too convincing. Simeon pushed all other thoughts aside, they were not needed. Obviously in his body language he looked awkward, unsure of the first move. Solomon picked up on it and broke the silence with a few hushed whispers to {Name}. He turned his attention towards Simeon, “I’ll teach you so there is no need to worry.” The sorcerer lured him in with words of encouragement, Simeon rose to his feet and slowly meandered over, closer to where {Name} waited. They smiled so sweetly, standing on shaking legs as they pressed a kiss to his lips, and with a mere utterance of his name, they had him completely entranced. He would have believed it if someone told him that {Name} was a seducer. He shook his head, that would be wrong when this was born from his one sided desire for them. Simeon’s temptation never occurred because they led him into it, his curiosity already made him fall and they facilitated the place in which he landed. He could not deny what he so desperately craved. {Name} gave him another kiss, softer and somehow careful. Full of affection and care, Simeon didn’t know what to do. To the best of his ability he tried to follow their movements and fall into time with them. {Name} looked pleased, deciding to further their actions when they slipped their tongue into his mouth. When they pulled away, his eyes were dazed and you could practically see the hearts floating in them. “Such an enraptured expression from a little kiss? How cute~♡” Solomon chirped. 

{Name} hummed, seemingly pleased with his reaction and holding a little smirk knowing it was their tender kiss that made him weak in the knees. “What do you want to do now?” Simeon mumbled some inaudible words, “You’ll have to speak up” Solomon encouraged. “I-...I want to m-make {Name} feel good.” The two couldn’t help but find Simeon absolutely adorable, their hearts swelled at his cuteness. “Well, you heard him {Name}” Solomon directs them to lay on the bed, pulling Simeon closer and guides him to kneel on the floor before them. The poor baby blushed so much, he could not stop being so flustered. Everything happened so quickly, and it’s all so overwhelming. He feels breath tickling his ear as a few whispers are imparted, “You’re going to make them feel really good. Don’t worry, I’ll teach you.” Solomon’s reassurance helped Simeon to relax and mentally prepare for what he was going to do. “You’re going to use your mouth.” Simeon nervously shifted in an attempt to get a bit more comfortable and hide his desire, he looked towards {Name} to see them subtly bashful, their lip caught between their teeth in anticipation. Having {Name} in the flesh was so much greater than his meager fantasy. Simeon almost felt bad for his poor mental rendition that did no justice in comparison to the real thing. Under Solomon’s guidance Simeon placed his hands on their thighs, pleasantly surprised and taken with their warmth and softness. His fingers squeezed, his eyes marveling as he watched how his fingers squished into the soft flesh. Without warning he leaned in and gently nommed, {Name} flinched in surprise at the contact, a small giggle escaped them from the tickling feeling. 

Grinning at how everything is playing out, Solomon reaches his hands to work their magic on {Name’s} chest, focusing on pleasuring them while instructing Simeon on how to do the same. “Just use your tongue, pay attention to when they moans and you’ll learn their good spots. Isn’t that right baby?” He leaned in and captured their mouth in a passionate kiss.  Simeon takes a tentative approach, slowly dragging his tongue along their arousal while watching every miniscule reaction. In a series of small, kitten-like licks he starts to get a feel for where they like it. As his tongue reaches and swipes across earning a response whenever they touch against one of their sensitive spots, their body shudders as their moans spill and overflow into their kiss with Solomon, {Name} pulls away from the kiss “There…please” They plead, Simeon focuses his attention and affection to that one point, dragging his tongue up and around with sloppy movements. “Suck on it a little, not too hard or else they’ll finish too quickly.” Following the instructions, he nods and softly suckles. {Name} whines and whimpers, weaving their hand into Simeon’s dark hair, shifting between tugging at his hair and pushing his face in, trying to get more stimulation. No wonder the angel was taken aback while grinding their hips against his mouth greedily in carnal desire. Aware of every tug against his roots only further egged him down and encouraged him like silent praise. Solomon grinned watching {Name} slipping further into the throes of ecstasy. “Good boy, you’re doing so well.” He praises, Simeon’s face flushes and heat rises to his ears, his body trembling from the praise. What is this? He wondered, unable to discern why his body reacted in such a way. This reaction did not miss the sorcerer’s keen eye. “Hmm a praise kink huh?” he muttered to himself, amused. Solomon moves alongside Simeon, “Now you’re going to multitask” he grasps Simeon’s hand and takes two of his fingers into his mouth, sucking on them and using his tongue to trace their shape in his mouth. Simeon whines, not realizing his fingers were so sensitive, the more the other man sucked on his fingers, the more acutely aware Simeon became. He pulls the fingers out with a loud pop, and still holding Simeon’s hand, guides his fingers to their entrance. “You’re going to slide your fingers in here.” 

“Hm? Oh, okay.” He awkwardly stammered, carefully sliding two fingers in. His eyes widened, marveling at how warm and wet it felt inside, how they randomly clenched around his digits. The way the heat completely engulfed his fingers. Simeon felt his cock aching, begging for any form of touch or attention. His fingers pressed further inside until his knuckles acted like a stopper. “Now, we can start off slow, just pull your fingers out and push them back in.” Solomon kept a grip on Simeon’s wrist, leading him with a simple pace that he could easily follow. “Like this?”, the question begged for approval. Staying true to the teaching, he moved his fingers in, and out. Repeating this slow and insistent pattern “Mhm, good. Now-” Solomon’s breath tickled Simeon’s ear again. Whispering low enough that {Name] wouldn’t hear, “Slowly curl your fingers up as you’re pulling out.” Simeon was curious about why, it seemed odd. He listened regardless, he did as he was told and watched their body jump as he grazed against something inside. Their moans and gasps took Simeon by surprise. “I’m sorry! Did I hurt you?” his voice was concerned, he stopped moving his fingers. {Name} shakes their head “Do it again…” 

“A-alright” Simeon moves his fingers again, when Solomon reminds him to use his mouth again just like before. He obeys, putting his mouth back to work and the beautiful sounds that left {Name} were nothing short of divine and euphoric. {Name’s} hand guided his head, urging him for more, they pulled his hair then pushed his head as they bucked their hips against him and watching them lose themselves gave Simeon a little more confidence, he used his free hand to squeeze their thigh as he focused on moving more intently. “Ah Simeon, just like that…I’m going to- ah fuck!” {Name} sputtered breathlessly cursing as their moans interrupted every word, they were on the cusp, so close. Their thighs trapped Simeon’s head in between as their orgasm finally overtook them. They grasped at the sheets trying to find breath as their body shuddered in the aftermath. {Name’s} body became languid, their legs loosened and Simeon tried to catch his breath and pulled his fingers out of them slowly. “How was it, Simeon? Making our sweet {Name} cum?” Solomon chuckled, and saw that dark haired man was speechless, lost in thought. He loved it, and even that might be an understatement. There was an urge, almost an addiction alongside a need to do it again and again. The fire was lit. Solomon pulled the dazed angel up onto his feet, and deftly began undoing his pants. Simeon stuttered and tried to stop him without much avail. Once his pants were off, he made quick work of completely stripping the angel of all clothing and left him bare in front of their eyes.

Solomon let out a low whistle, “Your cock is bigger than I expected {Name} is definitely going to enjoy it.” he gestures for {Name} to come over. Courteously he offers a hand to help {Name} walk a few unsteady steps as they sink to their knees in front of Simeon, and watching them kneel before him had Simeon’s mind in overdrive. “W-what are you doing {N-Name?}” he stammered, tripping over his words when seeing how close they got to him, out of his embarrassment he tried to take a step back only to bump into Solomon who acted as a wall that did not allow him to run away. “I want to make you feel good too” their words were filled with sincerity that almost made him melt. {Name} reached up, their hands rested on his thighs. Solomon’s hand wanders up Simeon’s sides, tracing up to his chest and his fingers toy with the angel's nipples. Simeon throws a hand over his mouth, shocked by his own voice and how loud he moaned when Solomon touched him. “You’re so sensitive” the sorcerer states in a manner that gives away his delight, his teeth nibbling on Simeon’s ear. “We’re going to make you feel amazing.” 

{Name} licks their lips, reaching a delicate hand to touch his aching cock, they take it in hand and stroke it. Running their hand down his length, up again and circling the sensitive tip with their thumb. The dark haired man gasps, his cute little whimpers leak despite his attempts to withhold them, “Let me hear you.” They purr, almost entranced by the plea his hand falls from his mouth allowing all his pretty sounds to be heard unrestricted. They keep moving their hand in a series of exact, unhurried strokes, acclimatizing him to the sensations while Solomon continues to tease his chest, lavishing his ears and neck with kisses and bites. The feeling is breathtaking, so much better than when Simeon did it himself with unpractised touch, this was different and decadent.  {Name} smiled seeing his reception, they took his leaking cockhead into their mouth, Simeon swears his vision blanked for a second. His legs would have buckled beneath him had it not been for Solomon’s swift reaction in catching him by wrapping his arms around Simeon. They internally smile loving all of his reactions and sensitivity that made him so easy to please. {Name} tried but to their surprise they couldn’t fit all of his cock in their mouth although they tried their best, overextending a little and giving Simeon a brief glimpse of what it meant to have someone choking on his cock. {Name} pulled him out of their mouth, well no matter, they’ll make up for what they couldn’t fit. Their hands stroked him fast, in contrast to the little kisses and licks they pressed to the tip. “{Name}...you have to stop-” interrupting him, {Name} sucked harder with a cheeky look in their eyes, Simeon nearly choked on his moans and was unable to hold anything back from his voice. “It’s fine Simeon, just cum.” Solomon assured him, encouraged him to just let go and give in. That enjoyable pleasure emanated through his body in a greater surge than he had ever experienced, it felt ten- no one hundred times better. Every nerve was on fire, it was by far more intense. His hand went to stop them, the heat circulated throughout his stomach. Solomon seized Simeon’s hand, the other went to push {Name’s} head down further onto Simeon’s cock as he came. His moans followed by soft whimpers as he came back down to earth, realizing he had cum in their mouth. Simeon stuttered a broken apology, {Name} wasn’t even abashed as they swallowed everything he gave them, they pouted and looked towards Solomon. “A little warning next time.” The white haired man chortled and lifted his hands in surrender “Alright, my bad” he gave a faux apology that didn’t sound all that sorry. “Idiot.” {Name} muttered underneath their breath as their hand gave the odd pump to Simeon’s length, while they splattered a series of butterfly kisses along his thighs and hips. 

Solomon clapped his hands together “Well then, we might as well take this to the bed” he stated cheerfully. The three sit themselves atop the bed, which thankfully was large enough to accommodate them all comfortably. {Name} alternates between kissing Solomon and Simeon. “I hope you’re not done yet, you haven’t even gotten to the best part.” The sorcerer teased. He settled behind {Name} and had them laying down in front of the nervous man. One would think after everything that happened his nerves would have settled by now, though Simeon seems to be in denial with himself. Solomon hummed some random tune as his hands spread {Name’s} thighs apart, the angel easily got the gist of what was to come and he shifted to slot between their thighs that felt a little too perfect at accommodating him. “This part is reaaaalllly easy. Just line yourself up right here and push inside.” He pushes his fingers inside as if to demonstrate to Simeon. He nodded, although the poor angel looked dazed and intoxicated. {Name} rested their head against Solomon’s thigh while Simeon bit his lip and pressed against their eager hole. Nervous for the real deal, he took a deep breath and pushed inside. His breath caught in his throat, the warmth, the wetness, the tight feeling that swallowed up every inch of him so eagerly. “Mmm…ah-! It’s-” He couldn’t even put the feeling into words, there was no possible way to explain what he felt. He had a word but felt it highly inappropriate to call this ‘heavenly.’ His body shook, Simeon felt the tightness in his stomach that indicated his orgasm was already creeping up on him.

Solomon chuckled, the sight is so adorable, it was so cute to see a precious little virgin getting their first taste of pleasure and immediately getting drunk off it. Simeon bottomed out, his pelvis meeting {Name’s}, he was so deep and it felt amazing. {Name} moaned as he stretched them out, bumping against their every sensitive spot along the way. They swear they could feel him throb inside. The look on their face was enrapturing, he worried if he was too deep inside and pulled out slightly, Simeon held himself deathly still, taking shallow breaths and wholly convinced if he moved he would cum immediately. Solomon could see him struggling to control himself, it is his first time after all so a little understanding went a long way. Simeon paused and trying to distract himself he looked a little pensive, unsure of whether or not to ask {Name} for a kiss. Well nothing ventured nothing gained he thought to himself. They called to him, snapping him out of his thoughts, Simeon leaned down and kissed them gingerly. Tender and slow, their tongue easily took the lead. They intertwined their tongue with his, drawing him in more and more. Simeon groaned into the kiss trying to keep up. Solomon beamed at the display, his fingers ran through {Name’s} hair. Simeon rutted into them, as much as he felt he could allow with holding back his orgasm. They broke the kiss, Simeon could feel the remnant heat from where they parted. He pulled out slow, sinking in again, all with shallow thrusts. His moans got louder, he kept forgetting himself and sinking all the way inside. {Name} would whine every time he did and Simeon believed this to be painful, regardless, even if he is a complete novice, they could feel him prodding and bumping against all of their good spots inside. Solomon drew their attention away from the angel's divine and flustered face. “I want a little kiss baby” he purred, they kissed his lips in response and he chuckled, licking his lips. “So sweet, but I meant here” Solomon rubbed his hard cock through his pants. He stripped his pants and settled back by {Name}, his thick head demanding entrance as it pressed against their soft lips. {Name} flashed a cheeky grin, and pressed the gentlest kiss to his head, Solomon looked at them with a raised eyebrow and they simply responded “You said a little kiss.” their eyes flashed with the most innocent, could do no wrong expression. “Such a little tease.” He pushed the fat head into their mouth, further and further until he hit the back of their throat and {Name} tapped on his thighs to say they couldn’t take anymore. “Just a little more baby please?” Solomon pleaded, groaning as he shut his eyes, he inched into their mouth again until they tapped on his thighs again. He looked down to see their eyes watering, filling up and tears fell down their cheeks. The sorcerer gave them a moment before filling their throat with his cock again, the sight had distracted and amazed Simeon as his thrust was a bit sharper than the previous ones. {Name} jolted and yelped, which vibrated around Solomon’s cock. He groaned “Fuck…So good.” He would carefully thrust, until {Name} could take no more, pull out a little faster and pause for a few seconds to let {Name} recover before the next thrust. His hand lovingly petted their head “You’re doing so well.” Solomon praised simultaneously as their moans added more vibrations around his length.

Simeon watched the scene unfolding, his body solely focused on his own sensation but he felt a little sad because he wanted more kisses. {Name} got used to the way Solomon is thrusting into their mouth and used their tongue to further tease him, listening to him grunt and curse made them smirk and flash a triumphant glare at him as if they had bested him. The sorcerer hissed and grinned, taking a peak at Simeon to see his subdued and sulking face, he could infer what he wanted. Even the angel’s little bout of jealousy was quite adorable. Solomon leaned closer, his hand grasping under Simeon’s chin as he tilted his face up to look at him and kissed him. Poor baby was so surprised he tried to pull away but Solomon kept a firm grip on his chin and deepened the kiss. Simeon tried to keep up, tried to match the kiss but was overwhelmed. His hand moved from his chin to knot his fingers through Simeon’s hair, unexpectedly and roughly pulling against his dark hair, he placed kisses along the angel’s neck. Solomon made sure to leave his marks as he trailed down. “Move a little faster Simeon.” he stated, Simeon was far too dazed with the kisses to fully understand what Solomon was saying and just nodded along anyway. Solomon noticed it earlier, how Simeon’s virgin body tried its hardest to restrict and control itself. Simeon was already so close to cumming, in the process of holding back he deprived himself and {Name} the full potential of what they could have been experiencing. The sorcerer moved his hand to Simeon’s abdomen, grazing across his naval before resting on his hip. He flashed an evil smirk, the angel was so startled his thrusts stuttered and halted, too afraid to make sense of what just happened when he felt an unusual pressure around the base of his cock. “What is this?” 

“It’s called a cockring.” This was not your ordinary, run of the mill, standard issue kind of thing you bought off of Akuzon. More specifically it is one of the more unusual creations that Solomon dabbled and tinkered with. He created a cockring with magical enhancement, one that denies any and all orgasms of the one wearing it. It will keep the wearer on edge. That oh so tortuous edge before the fall and hold them in that state until it’s released by the one who placed it onto them. I mean it was a multipurpose, easy tool for edging, a cockring and could function as a chasity belt if utilized right. Solomon can guarantee its effectiveness after testing it on an incubus. “With this you won’t cum too quickly.” 

Simeon whined, the prospect of being denied sounded almost too cruel for him to bear. “Please…” Simeon begged with his desperation at its height. He wanted nothing more than Solomon to release him. “Don't misunderstand, it's here to help.” The sorcerer explained, hoping his explanation would clarify whatever misunderstanding the angel had. He nods, having a bit more confidence knowing he won't just cum without warning and it gives him some reassurance. “Just a little longer, give them another orgasm and I'll let you finish at the same time.” Solomon proposed. He nods, and steadies himself. {Name} pulls Solomon’s cock from their mouth, all to beg Simeon to go harder. His slower pace felt good but they needed more. Simeon complies, drawing his cock out and slamming back in harder than he had before. {Name’s} reaction confirms that they are enjoying it and he smiles at seeing them feeling good, and it feels even better knowing that it’s him that is doing it. “Yes! Simeon” they moan, he gets so caught up in it, his body screams in agony at being kept on edge. {Name} whimpers about being close, their nails dig into Simeon’s forearms and he grits his teeth from the assault of extra sensation. The moment their body tensed Solomon made sure to release the cockring, the two of them hitting their long awaited climax. {Name} wraps their legs around Simeon, enjoying how he shuts his eyes and collapses to their chest. Simeon’s arms hold them like a vice in the height of his orgasm. He stills completely, trying to regain his balance. It was the first time he had experienced something so intense. {Name} sighs in content, basking in the afterglow so to say. 

They perk up with a devious glint in their eyes, signaling for Solomon to come closer. “Help me out.” Solomon smirks, his hands hook under Simeon’s arms as he reshuffles him down to the bed and {Name} straddles him, their hand already encouraging his softening cock to get hard for another round. “Wh-what!? I can’t…” Simeon sputters out nervously. Mildly terrified to see them recover so quickly from the earlier orgasm that made {Name} look positively insatiable  “And you say I’m the mean one.” the sorcerer snickers, seeing his human companion on a hunt to once again make Simeon lose his mind. His body betrays him, helped along by {Name’s} delicate and focused touch. Without delaying anymore, they sink down onto his length. They lean forward and steadies themselves by putting their hands on his chest as they start to ride him and overstimulate him. “{Name} please it’s too much.” Simeon whimpers. They slow their pace, leaning down to kiss the angel, they keep rocking their hips slowly, Solomon pulls them up and kisses them. “Don’t make me too jealous, baby.” His hand wraps around their throat squeezing lighty, their walls tighten around Simeon’s cock in perfect response to Solomon’s hand. Although he couldn’t deny that seeing Simeon and {Name} together was quite the charming sight. They continue to ride, leaning their head back with suppressed moans and whimpers. The sorcerer smiles, taking hold of the angel's hand and lifting it to their chest. His hands fondle their chest, Simeon leans up and his mouth wraps around a nipple as he caresses it with his tongue. Solomon coos “He’s a natural.” Simeon squeezes down on them, testing the limits for how rough he could actually be. His teeth slowly nip and bite at the sensitive flesh, every nibble eliciting another sound from {Name}. Solomon decides to help them along, his free hand finds its way between their legs as he teases them in time with Simeon’s thrusts. “Come on pretty baby, I know you’re close.” Solomon urges, flashing a look to Simeon as he nods and thrusts up in time with their movements. “Ah-!” A yelp escapes from their throat, ‘Simeon- Sol-” They whine, the two men’s names, unable to keep up with everything they’re experiencing. Simeon keeps thrusting until they fall apart. Simeon gives a few more thrusts until his orgasm follows close after. 

They babble some nonsense slurred words and incoherent sentences. Simeon looks concerned, seeing them in such a state, “Are you alright?” His words were so sincere, holding genuine worry for their wellbeing. Solomon’s hand surprises him with a pat on the back, “No need to worry, they get like this after a few orgasms.” Solomon reassures the angel, helping {Name} off of him and gently laying them down on the bed. Solomon pats their face lightly “Stay with me baby, it’s too early to call it quits.” He coos with faux sympathy and kisses them, teasing their tongue before capturing their lip between his teeth. Solomon hums, throwing their legs over his shoulders and rubbing his cock against their entrance. “Simeon made such a mess inside” he chuckles, Simeon’s face heats up at hearing that. Solomon slams his cock in, letting out a guttural groan “You feel so fucking good.” He puts them into a mating press and thrusts, at first hard and slow before speeding up. Simeon watches intently, unable to tear his eyes away. “You see Simeon, what I learned…{Name} doesn’t really have a preference for things like pace and all that. But they definitely love it deep.” Solomon bottoms out, feeling them cum around him. He calls Simeon over, and takes his hand. Pressing it down on their tummy, making them whine all the more from the pressure. As Solomon thrusts slowly, Simeon can swear he feels Solomon’s cock moving under his hand. {Name} feels another orgasm ravaging their overstimulated body, they beg for no more. Solomon purrs “Just one more baby. Pretty please?” he pleads, {Name} tries to shuffle away Solomon grabs their hips “Don’t run.” His voice takes on a firmness that makes them submit without much effort. “You’re doing so good baby, I’m close. Just a little more, yeah? You can do it.” Solomon pounds into them with sharp thrusts, his brows knit as he can feel the pleasurable surge approaching. He mutters curses as he cums, filling {Name} up. He pauses for a moment before pulling out, looking quite satisfied when he sees his cum overflowing from them. Simeon wasn’t hard before but after watching all that, his body apparently could handle more. {Name} looked absolutely exhausted so he knew he couldn’t exactly ask for anything. The sorcerer notices his state, he flashes a sickly sweet smile and elects that he will take care of Simeon. 

He grabs Simeon, pressing their bodies together and kisses him hard. “You’ve had plenty of practice, yeah? You can keep up.” Solomon murmurs before returning to the kiss feeling how Simeon adapted and keeps up with his flurry of kisses, only stumbling when it comes to the finer control of using his tongue. Solomon pulls away looking pleased “You’re a quick learner.” The sorcerer keeps Simeon’s mouth occupied as his hand slips down to stroke his cock, Simeon sighs. Enjoying the languid movements as opposed to intense ones. It was blatantly obvious however that Solomon’s hands were experienced, quick to seek out every sensitive place that he didn’t even know he had. Every movement in perfect tandem draws out the sweetest moans and whimpers from the angel, his legs buckle from the kiss but Solomon supports his weight and holds him close. His arm safely wrapped around the angel's waist. The very same arm that slowly loosens as his hand slides down Simeon’s body to rest on his ass, giving it a harsh grab. It slightly startles the angel. Solomon’s finger probes Simeon’s hole, “N-no” he whines, Solomon kisses his forehead. “It’s alright, I won’t go any further than this. Trust me.” his hushed voice that spoke so gently reassured Simeon. Carefully he pushes a finger inside, Simeon gasps. He couldn’t put into words exactly what this tickling sensation is. The only word that comes to mind is ‘strange’. It is so unfamiliar, the perfect movements of his finger moving inside while Solomon’s hand continued its consistent pumps on Simeon’s leaking cock. It caused pleasure beyond belief, the whole night was truly one of different sensations but this was probably the most unique. Simeon digs his nails into Solomon’s shoulder, whimpering as he covers the sorcerer's hand in cum. “That’s a good boy, no worries I’ve got you.” He lays Simeon down, {Name} snuggled up to him. Pressing a few affectionate kisses to his back. Solomon swooned at seeing his two dearest darlings cuddling up like sleepy kittens. He lays down, quickly snapping his fingers and there's an obvious change around them. Simeon is surprised, when {Name} chuckles “Magic is so convenient isn’t it?” All it took was a snap of Solomon’s fingers to be all cleaned up and in a fresh set of bedding. The comfort paired with exhaustion had Simeon falling asleep not too long after. {Name} peers at his peaceful face, while Solomon reaches over to brush the hair from his face. “I hope he joins us more often.” 

Taglist: @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf

[stevenssacrab]

Good Neighbor

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ✧ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*

Summary: Seeing your neighbor constantly ordering takeout inspires you to offer him a home-cooked meal and your company.

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.1k

a/n: As promised, one that isn't about Mr. Steven Grant. Hope someone out there appreciates the fallout 4 reference in the title lol. There will be a part 2 so look out for that soon! Hope y'all like it!

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ✧ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*

Part 2

Bucky sighs as he submits the 4th DoorDash order of the week.

“There’s no way this is good for me,” he groaned loudly, tossing his phone to the side and throwing his head back on the sofa when a heavenly aroma hit his nose.

“Ugh, there goes Y/N cooking again,” he says, slightly annoyed at himself; he quietly steps out into the hallway, seeking more of the godly scent coming from your apartment. Bucky has been entranced by your cooking abilities; somehow, you find the willpower to make a delicious home-cooked meal every day; he doesn’t know how you do it.

You hum softly to yourself as you pull out your chicken pot pie. You loved this recipe, but it, unfortunately, served 8+ people, and you didn’t know that many people, so you just picked at it throughout the week, but this time was different; you noticed that your handsome neighbor Bucky is always ordering take out, you can’t imagine a night he didn’t order something in, so you’ve decided to be a good friendly neighbor and offer him some, it would go to waste anyways so might as well give it away, and if it meant you would get to talk to Bucky, you figured it wouldn’t hurt.

Knock knock, you tap lightly on his door, suddenly having second thoughts, but before you can change your mind, Bucky opens the door.

“Hey, what’s up?” He says, only slightly confused

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you say, holding your hand out. Bucky shakes your hand, and you don’t miss how rough his hand feels against yours, how your hands fit together like puzzle pieces.

“Bucky,” he says, looking at you with a hint of something you can’t quite grasp.

“I made some chicken pot pie, and I have tons left over; I was wondering if you wanted what’s left. I see all the takeout and thought it may have been a while since you had a home-cooked meal.” You say, your eyes widening suddenly. “N-Not that I’m like watching you or something. You laugh awkwardly, eyes shifting everywhere. “I just happened to notice and.”

“Y/N, it's okay. I know what you meant,” he smiles at you.

“Come in, please,” he says, stepping aside to let you in.

“Okay,” you say shyly, slowly crossing the threshold into this home; it was much homier than you imagined. You were not sure what exactly you expected, but it wasn’t this; it was decorated with army medals and pictures of other Avengers enjoying life; it was odd seeing everyone superheroes, in regular clothes, having beers and singing karaoke, everyone being so ordinary. It was refreshing to see; it really humanized them for you. It, of course, never slipped your mind who Bucky was, but to you, he was always your neighbor who ordered too much takeout and had loud get-togethers.

“This smells so good, Y/N,” he beams, practically drooling over the pie.

“I’m glad you think so; it tastes even better,” you wink. Bucky looks away, smiling shyly. He leads you into his kitchen, placing the food at the breakfast bar. He pulls out your chair for you before he seats himself, digging in immediately.

“UGH, this is so fucking good,” he shouts, with a mouth full of food. “Oh, sorry, this is so good.” he laughs, shoving more food into his mouth.

“Mmm, what is this crust made out of?” He asks, chewing slowly, dissecting the flavors, and trying to pinpoint it.

“Cheddar and thyme,” you beam proudly, enjoying his reactions to the meal.

“Ugh, my god, genius.” He says lowly, “So, does your boyfriend love your cooking too?” He asks

“Oh, haha, no boyfriend, it’s just me,” you laugh awkwardly.

“No way, I’d marry you if it meant I got to eat like a king every day,” he says matter-of-factly.

“I might have to take you up on that offer,” you flirted back. Bucky practically licks the plate clean; he pushes the plate away and smacks the table in triumph.

“Amazing,” he chirps happily, gently patting his stomach, absolutely glowing.

“Thank you, you’re too kind.” you blush at his praise and stand up, clearing your throat before speaking.

“I should get going; I’ll see you around, Bucky,” you say, gently squeezing his arm.

“Yeah, hope I can see you again.” He says slowly, hoping you pick up his suggestion; you walk across the hallway, giving one last smile before closing the door.

It’s been a week since you gave him your pot pie. Every meal you’ve made, you wanted to provide some, but you didn’t wanna weird him out

It was raining, too, so you decided it was a good day for some classic French onion soup, only this time, you wouldn’t bring your leftovers; you would have dinner with Bucky. You are dressed in a yellow floral print dress that landed just above the knees. Giving yourself one last look in the mirror before walking across the hall, you gently knock on the door.

“I’m coming!” Bucky shouts, and you faintly hear footsteps coming closer. Bucky quickly swings the door open.

“Oh, Y/N! Hey, whatcha got there?” Bucky asks, looking down at the pot you have in your hands.

“French onion soup,” you say proudly, holding your head high. “With a baguette,” you added happily.

“Hell yeah! Come in, come in,” he says excitedly, stepping aside.

You pour yourself and Bucky, as he waits excitedly, absolutely beaming, gently place the bowl before him and hand him a few slices of baguette.

“I hope you like it,” you smile nervously; you sit next to Bucky, wiping your sweat palms on your dress.

“This looks amazing, Y/N,” he says, smiling down at the food, picking up a spoonful of soup, and blowing on it before eating.

“Oh my god,” he says as soon as it hits the palate, Concern growing deep in your chest. “He hates it, oh my god,” you say to yourself.

“Y-you don’t like it?” You ask timidly, pulling his bowl away from him, shame feeling every part of your body, “this was a stupid idea,” you say under your breath, but loud enough that Bucky hears you; he grabs the hand, pulling away tightly, you gasp; looking up at Bucky nervously

“Don’t say that,” he said firmly, realizing he was still holding your hand; he cleared his throat and let your hand go.

“I just mean it’s good, better than good; it’s incredible,” he admits cautiously, reaching for another spoonful.

“Oh, haha,” you laugh, feeling the tension melt away.

Bucky wastes no time scarfing down the food, and of course, going back for seconds, you smile to yourself, pleased with his reactions.

“Ugh, that was marvelous,” he said, rubbing his belly happily; you both sat on the sofa in comfortable silence. You remember when you first built up the courage to offer him your leftovers; you never imagined it would lead to this: having dinner with your handsome neighbor.

“Do you wanna make dinner at my place next week?” you asked suddenly before you changed your mind.

“I’d love to.” Bucky smiled back at you.

[kunasthiast]

Goals

It all started with your interest and love for soccer. Didn't know you'll find somebody this interesting here, right?

a/n: this can be a stand-alone fic bUTTT actually this is in the same universe of – Looting and Broken Sinks – check out how Sukuna and reader first met hsdhah i've been so inspired with soccer bc of Blue Lock

hope you enjoy this one ;) i'm also so sorry for no uploads the past week, i've been so busy with university – will get back to regular uploads by next week!

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff, Boyfriend AU, Soccer Player AU, University AU Word Count: 1,628 All characters are of age. Suggestive.

You were the biggest fan of soccer. You knew everything about it – the legendary strikers, the egotist players, and the incredible goals. Yet, you never played it yourself.

It’s not because you’re not cut out for it. Or, not because your body can’t take it. Please, you’re athletic as fuck. It’s just that you preferred to enjoy this particular sport from a distance, analyzing each players’ skills, techniques, and plays.

So here you were, watching your university’s soccer team during their first match against a rival university. Are their rivals just too weak or something?

It was your first time attending one of their games, and you had high hopes. But, yes, this is boring you. They were not making plays that are interesting to watch at all!

“When will they make this game more watchable,” you complained as you leaned on the rail, your eyes scanning the field for anything remotely exciting.

The only one you can see is a white-haired guy who’s like an amazing midfielder, but what good are his plays if there’s no striker thats clearly cut out to make an out-of-this-world goal, right?

Just as you were about to give up hope, a commotion on the side of the field caught your attention. Your university’s team asked for a player trade from the bench. Alas, the crowd on that side erupted in cheers and gasps towards a tall, muscular player with pink hair and distinctive tattoos. #20 Ryomen.

“Who’s that?” You muttered to yourself as you squint your eyes towards #20.

“That’s Sukuna,” a voice beside you said. “He’s the star forward of the team – they call him the ‘King of the Penalty Area’ for a reason. He’s like a beast on the field, too.”

“Hmm, that’s kind of a cringey title to call himself,” you said as you continued watching the ruckus on the side of the field.

“Well, that’s what he was dubbed by most people here. I’m Nobara, do you go to this university, too?” An orange-haired pretty woman said as she extended her hand towards you for a shake.

You stared dumbfoundedly on her stretched out hand and confusingly tilted your head as you told her your name.

“Not a fan of handshakes?” Nobara snickered as she set her eyes back to the field.

“Yeah haha, just shocked you were actually watching a soccer game,” you said as your eyes went back to the field as the game started again. “Most women my age don’t really watch these sports, they love basketball more.”

“Oh, I’m not a soccer fan, alright? I just lost a bet and had to watch my friend play which I’m certain is not happening anytime soon now that Sukuna’s in this game,” she replied as she shook her head and folded her arms.

You chuckled, finding her candor refreshing. “Well, hopefully this Sukuna guy can liven things up a bit.”

The moment Sukuna stepped onto the field, the atmosphere changed. His presence was commanding, and it was clear he was no ordinary player.

Oh, this is getting exciting!

“Wow, he does have a certain… presence,” you admitting, watching Sukuna weaving through the opposing team with ease, his eyes focused and determined. “Maybe this game won’t be so boring after all.”

“Yeah, he’s something else. But, don’t tell him that, his ego will just go over the roof.”

The white-haired midfielder, #27 Gojo, passed the ball to Sukuna with perfect precision. Sukuna took it in stride, sprinting down the field with his incredible speed.

He left two defenders in the dust, aiming and fired a shot at the goal, the ball sailing past the goalkeeper and into the net with a satisfying thud.

GOAL 1-0

The crowd erupted in cheers, and you found yourself clapping along, genuinely impressed.

Is he a prodigy? You’ve never seen a forward make an aggressive goal like that!

Sukuna turned towards the stands, a smig grin on his face as he soaked in the applause from the crowd.

The game continued, and Sukuna’s performance only got better and better. He scored two more goals, each more impressive than the last one. How did he even manage to make a hattrick?

3-0

By the time final whistle blew, your university’s team had won decisively, thanks in large part to Sukuna’s incredible play. As the players left the field, you couldn’t help but feel a newfound sense of excitement.

Maybe watching this university’s soccer team wouldn’t feel so boring at all.

As you scanned the crowd, searching for Sukuna among the sea of faces, you couldn’t shake the feeling of curiosity that gnawed at you. Amidst the jubilant celebrations and the chatter of the spectators, your eyes locked onto a figure making his way towards the exit.

There he was, Sukuna, weaving through the crowd with an effortless grace that mirrored his performance on the field.

His pink hair stood out among the sea of fans, and his confident stride exuded an aura of charisma that drew you in.

Without a second thought, you found yourself moving through the crowd, determined to catch up to him. You navigated through the throng of people, your heart racing with anticipation.

What would you say to him?

Finally, you reached his side, breathless from the exhilarating pursuit. Sukuna glanced in your direction, his gaze meeting yours with a mixture of surprise and intrigue. 

“Hey there,” you greeted him with a smile.

Sukuna returned your smile, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, well, what do we have here?" he replied, his voice smooth and captivating. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting before."

You chuckled, suddenly aware of how out of place you felt among the adoring fans. "No, we haven't," you admitted, feeling slightly tongue-tied in his presence. "I just wanted to say, you played an incredible game out there. Truly inspiring!”

Sukuna's smile widened, a playful glint in his eyes. "Why, thank you," he replied, inclining his head in acknowledgment. "But I must admit, I couldn't have done it without the support of fans like you."

You felt a rush of warmth at his words, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. “Oh, I’m not a fan, just an admirer of the sport itself,” you said with a playful grin. “But, I'll be cheering you on from the sidelines at every game."

Sukuna's laughter filled the air. Why does his laugh even sound so good?

"I look forward to it," he said, his smile dazzling in the glow of the stadium lights. "Who knows? Maybe you'll inspire me to score even more goals next time.”

Just as you were about to respond, another player approached, his white hair stark against the evening sky and a pair of sunglasses (mind you, it’s night time) perched on his nose. He exuded a different kind of charisma – playful yet commanding.

"Sukuna making friends with fans again?" he teased, shooting a mischievous glance between you and Sukuna.

“Gojo Satoru," Sukuna introduced him with a playful smirk. ”Our team’s ace midfielder. Don’t mind him, he’s just as annoying as he looks.”

Gojo laughed, extending a hand towards you. "Nice to meet you. Don’t listen to Sukuna, I’m actually the charm of this team.”

You shook his hand, chuckling at his lighthearted banter. "Nice to meet you too, Gojo. It was fun watching you.”

Gojo grinned, throwing an arm around Sukuna’s shoulders. "Oh, you can count on it. With me around, the matches are never boring.”

You snorted, feeling a sense of camaraderie with the two players. “Yeah, I’ll see you around in the next games, too. I’ll get going now, bye!”

As you walked away, you couldn't shake the feeling of Sukuna's gaze lingering on you, a spark of intrigue glimmering in his eyes. And you weren’t wrong. He was still gazing at your figure as you left the field.

"Now, she's an interesting girl," Gojo remarked with a grin, nudging Sukuna playfully.

Sukuna shook his head, tearing his gaze away with a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, she is," he admitted, his thoughts lingering on the mysterious girl who had captivated his attention

Meanwhile, Gojo shrugged off the moment, his easygoing demeanor never faltering. "Anyway, why are you late?" he asked Sukuna, his tone teasing.

Sukuna chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Got a bit distracted by an online game. Just lost track of time," he confessed with a sheepish grin.

Gojo rolled his eyes but couldn't help but smirk at Sukuna’s antics. "You and your games," he muttered, shaking his head in amusement. "Come on, let's catch up with the others before they start thinking we've abandoned them."

With that, the two teammates made their way through the dispersing crowd, their laughter echoing in the evening air.

But even as they rejoined their team, Sukuna couldn't shake the memory of your encounter, a spark of curiosity igniting within him. 

Perhaps this was just the beginning of something unexpected and exciting. And, it is.

As the days turned into weeks, you found yourself drawn deeper into the world of soccer with Sukuna. Your bond with him growing stronger with each passing game. You watched from the bench, cheering him on and complimenting his plays after every match.

And eventually, you found yourself seated by the side of the field, watching the game unfold with bated breath as your favorite player took to the field.

Sukuna, your boyfriend, moved with grace and precision, his every move a testament to his skill and dedication.

And this time, the only times he’ll be late was because of his pre-game workout. With you.

You were no longer just a big fan of soccer; you were the biggest fan of Sukuna and his incredible goals.

[timetoletmyimaginationfly]

Officially Mine

Nanami Kento x Reader

Slight suggestiveness in the end. Implied Mafia + CEO Nanami. Implied violence on Nanami’s end.

I want to make a series out of this…

(Song Inspiration: Infinity by Jaymes Young)

He didn’t know why but he let the attraction take over him. An ordinary woman that you are, he finds extraordinary. A woman who appears so innocent and pure while he is a man with blood on his hands. A man that plays dirty in his business world.

It has been a year since meeting you. The two of you met on Gojo’s birthday. And because you were close to Shoko, Gojo encouraged Shoko to bring you. It was one of the best days of his life.

“Kento-kun!” you yelled to get Nanami’s attention. Nanami’s eyes turned to you. You giggled and brought a brown bag to his desk. “Your lunch like you asked. You’re lucky I didn’t have a photoshoot today.”

You watched a small and playful smile appear on his face. You always saw his stoic side. He tends to be a man of little words but the more you got to know him, his actions says a lot.

“You would’ve done it for me either way, love bug,” he said. “Thank you.” You blushed.

“Y-Yeah, I would’ve,” you admitted shyly. He watched you play with your fingers. An indication of your shy side appearing or your nerves were slowly taking over. But you were blushing, so he knew you were getting shy. “I’m going to Korea for about a week.”

“Korea?” he asked. You nodded happily.

“I never told you about him!” He glared at the mention of him. “We went to college together. He models and acts and he let me take his photos. Now he’s famous everywhere in Asia! He asked me personally to be his photographer! I can’t let that opportunity slide.” His eyes softened. You were excited and happy. That was all he cared about.

“No, you can’t,” he said softly. “I have some business to deal with over there soon. We can go together in my private jet. When do you leave?”

“Next week.”

“Perfect.” You could hear some possessiveness in his voice. His soft yet venomous tone was subtle. You bit your lower lip. Should you be scared? Yes. But were you? No. “I’ll pick you up, love bug.” You lightly giggled. Another sign of nerves and shyness.

“What business do you have entailed over there?”

“I have a client that I need to meet with personally.” He sounded sincere but it was almost sinister. Nonetheless, you smiled brightly.

“Perfect! Kill two birds with one stone, right?” Nanami nodded. “I’ll be heading out. I need to get my equipment together.”

“Get home safe, love bug,” he said. Pink. You were blushing again. You waved one last time before sending yourself out. Nanami took his phone out and called Gojo.

“Call Jung + Kim Security,” he said. “Tell Mr. Jung to expect me.”

“How bad did they fuck you over?”

“He touched my girl a week ago at the gala.”

“Oh Nanami. Head over heels for a girl that isn’t even officially yours,” Gojo said with a chuckle. “You should tell her how you feel.”

“We are aware of our feelings with each other.”

“Yeah but you two are still dancing around each other. What’s holding you back?” Nanami held on to his phone tighter. He stayed silent. He already knew. You were too good for him. “I know you, Nanamin. You deserve someone like her.”

You were surprised when Nanami decided to come with you to the photoshoot.

“It takes hours,” you said.

“That’s fine,” he would answer.

You looked out the window in the car and smiled. Nanami took a glance at you. He couldn’t help but smile with you. His hand moved over to yours that rested on your lap. You didn’t resist him, so he intertwined his fingers to yours. Your heart raced, fluttering feelings overtaking your body.

Nanami remained by the table that was filled with snacks and refreshments. He watched you fixed the model’s outfit. He watched the model talk to you and watched you laugh. Nanami can feel jealousy envelope all over his body. His glare becoming so intense that the model looked up briefly at Nanami with fear.

“Let’s take a quick break,” you said. You could feel Nanami’s glare from behind. “Be back in ten.” You turned around and walked over to Nanami. You stood in front of him with crossed arms and an angry pout.

“Yes, love bug?” he asked so softly and innocently that you blushed, almost forgetting why you walked over to him.

“Quit scaring him,” you said. “I can feel your stare. You’re getting annoyed. Kento-kun, do you enjoy my attention?” Nanami smirked and stood up. He towered over you and he closed the gap and leaned in closer to your face.

“Of course I do,” he answered. “I just don’t want him flirting with you.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” you asked. Nanami smiled, patiently waiting for you to continue. You leaned up closer to his ear. He thought you were too adorable. “I enjoy your attention, too.” You winked and turned around to get back on set, where your model friend was patiently waiting. Nanami watched, your “secret” replaying in his mind.

I enjoy your attention, too.

Sets were changing. Outfits were changing. You made sure everything was perfect. During breaks, you would stay with Nanami. He took a step out to buy lunch for the crew. And another time to buy coffee.

“Your boyfriend is a good man,” your friend said. You blushed, a little too stunned to say anything back. “We should do a double date one day. My manager said I have to go to a meeting tomorrow. We can do more of the shoot the day after.”

“O-Okay! Just call me,” you said.

Nanami placed his hand on the small of your back and lead you back to the car.

“You love photography,” he said.

“I do,” you replied. “Office jobs aren’t fun. I love my side gig.”

“You should make it a full-time thing.”

“I’m trying. That’s why this photoshoot needs to be perfect. The day after tomorrow will be with the cast on the drama he’s also in. It needs to be perfect.”

“I have full confidence that you’ll succeed, love bug.” Nanami looked at the time in the car. “Do you want to go back to the hotel or explore around Seoul? I have to meet with my client.”

“Drop me off here,” you said. “And then I’ll take a cab back to the hotel. That is, if you’re still gone. Maybe we can get dinner together. I-If you want.”

“I would love that, love bug. I’ll definitely be there.”

A few hours passed. You were worried when you saw him leave his car. His body was very tense. His frown was deep. And the way he kept fixing his tie was uncharacteristic of him. Almost as if he was nervous.

“Kento-kun,” you called. You watched his shoulders slightly relaxed the moment you spoke. You couldn’t help but smile and walked up to him. Nanami chuckled when he saw the bags in your hands.

“You went all out, huh?” he questioned softly when he took the bags from your hands.

“Just a little,” you answered. “I’ve been wanting to use their facial products and I want some make up. Some of their clothes were on sale so I might as well take up on that opportunity, right?” Nanami chuckled and placed the bags in the back seat of his car.

“Of course, love bug,” he said and held your hand. “I reserved a place for us.”

“So I have to wear something nice? I’m pretty casual right now.” The last time he reserved a restaurant for the two of you, you felt very out of place, even if it was just the two of you around. Nanami just smiled.

“I knew you were going to question that,” he said and pulled a bag of out the car. “Change into this. Under my seat is a new pair of heels.”

“Wait! You’re not coming in here while I change!” you exclaimed when you watched Nanami enter the driver seat. Nanami smirked.

“I won’t look,” he said. You pouted at him and all he could do was laugh. “I’m kidding, love. Let me know when you’re done.”

“Thank you.”

Something about you in a silky, sapphire colored gown that hugged the curves of your body just made Nanami’s mind spiral. He kept you close possessively as you two walked to your destination.

“You are a possessive man, Kento-kun,” you said. Nanami smiled at the comment.

“I don’t like anyone touching anything and anyone that’s mine,” he answered casually. You blushed and rested your head on his chest. He pulled you in close to him. “I want to tell you something important tonight.”

“O-Okay,” you said. “Is it bad?”

“It depends how you perceive it, love bug,” he said.

Your eyes widened when you two reached the rooftop. There was one table with two long candles lit up and a flower in between the candles. Nanami pulled your chair out for you to sit and you softly thanked him. Once Nanami sat down, two waiters arrived, pouring the both of you glasses of wine and bringing food on to the table.

“I made sure to serve your favorite,” Nanami said. “Tomorrow we’ll explore around Seoul and you can try more of their food since you have the day off.” You brightened. It was your first time in the country and you were excited to do some sight-seeing.

“So what was it you wanted to tell me?” you asked curiously as you took a sip of the wine.

“You’re impatient, my love,” he said. He loosened his tie ever so slightly and fixed the cuffs of his suit.

“You’re nervous,” you said. Your heart raced and your stomach fluttered when he gave you a shy smile. An uncharacteristic one from him. “Kento-kun, are you doubting our feelings for each other?” Another uncharacteristic reaction. His eyes widened.

“Maybe I am,” he answered quietly.

“What’s there to doubt?”

“That you’re perfect and I’m not,” he said, his eyes burning through you. His eyes were intense. You were mesmerized.

“You speak low of yourself. Very unlike you.”

“All because of you, love,” he replied. “You’re the only one that makes me like this.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Yes and no. Everyday I have you in my mind that it distracts me. And I hate distractions. But I love your distraction. You’re a woman so beautiful and sweet that I find it hard to believe that you like a man like me.”

“What’s so bad about you?”

“All the bad things I do.” All you can do is smile slyly as you took another sip of your wine.

“I like to pretend that I don’t know what you do behind closed doors,” you said. “You’re ruthless and an ass to others. Satoru has a big mouth. I tried not to get too involved with you earlier, but I can’t get away.”

“Gojo? Seriously?” You couldn’t help but giggle at his annoyed expression. You reached out and held his hand.

“Kento-kun, you’re the only one who I feel safe around even though I know that you’re a dangerous man,” you said. “And everyday, I think I end up falling more for you that I can’t ignore my feelings for you.”

“How could you love someone like me? I don’t deserve someone so perfect like you.”

“Because I grew up with no love and protection from anyone,” you answered. “And you’re the only one that gets me. You do anything to protect anyone you love. I watch you protect Satoru, Suguru, Yu, and Shoko. And I saw you give that man a killer stare at the gala after he touched me two weeks ago.”

“I hope you know he has no way to touch you ever again,” he said angrily. He was amused. You didn’t flinch or look at him differently. All you did was smile at him admirably and affectionately.

“I don’t wanna know,” you said softly. “But I can’t turn away. I think I’m too involved.”

“You are, love. I love you too fucking much.”

“I love you, too.”

“You can walk away if you want. It’s not too late.”

You stood up and walked over to him. Nanami turned to face you and you slowly sat on his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. His one arm enveloped you around your waist while his other hand rested on the back of your head. You straddled on his lap and cupped his face. His tongue versus yours. Reluctantly, you pulled away and rested your forehead on his.

“What does that say to you?” Nanami smiled and kissed you again.

“That we should skip dinner and go back to our hotel to have dessert.” You laughed. But you suddenly had a serious look on your face.

“I have one rule with our relationship,” you said. Nanami nodded, willing to agree to anything you need him to do. “I have male friends. Do not, and I mean do not do anything to them. That’s my dealbreaker.”

“They better not take you away from me.”

“Nanami Kento!” Nanami pressed his lips on yours. “Nanami Kento, you’re a possessive man.”

“Remember, no one takes anything and anyone that’s mine. And you’re officially mine.”

[kasagia]

Would've, Could've, Should've...

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/Darkling x heartrender! Kaz Brekker's sister! reader Summary: Your life would have been completely different if it wasn't for Aleksander. You regret meeting him... but saints only know that he is the one who can make you feel this way... Warning(s): angst, death, blood, violence, manipulation, falling in love with the wrong person, toxic love, Aleksander is a little manipulator and the reader enters his web, the reader rebels, they love and hate each other, kind of dark! reader? Inspired by "Would've, Could've, Should've" - Taylor Swift SPECIAL FOR 10K LIKES AND 500 FOLOWERS 💙🖤 Thank you once again!! Words count: 11,6k+ Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @morrigan-crowmwell ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~

If you would've blinked then I would've Looked away at the first glance If you tasted poison, you could've Spit me out at the first chance

You were a thief and a paid killer. In Ketterdam you were known as the sister of Dirtyhand, Dreg's second bastard. But that was before you met him... or before you were commissioned to kill him.

You were in a bind then, a messed-up situation. Your elder brother, Jordie, died, and your younger brother, Kaz, was your dependent. You both had to work hard to earn money for food and a dry (but often cold) place to sleep.

That's why you packed up. You left your brother with the promise to return and provide him with a place to stay while you were away. You exchanged as many letters with him as you could. You learned that he was doing well in Ketterdam, slowly becoming the head of one of the most important gangs. You helped him build his "empire" as much as you could, travelling around the world and making money by killing your targets.

But everything went to hell and your life changed completely on the night of a winter fete in Ravka.

You had a very simple task.

Disguised as a servant, you were to deliver the glass with poison to the Darkling, mingle with the other servants, and leave. None of the nobles ever paid attention to the service. Especially when you cover your face with makeup, making it look so dull and ordinary that no one will remember it.

But Darkling was different... you were supposed to find out about it soon.

Everything was going well. You walked over to him and handed him a poison glass, avoiding eye contact with him. But as you walked away, glancing discreetly to see if he raised his glass to his lips, you noticed he gave you a second glance.

You shivered.

He stared at you intently without even blinking. You felt mesmerized under his gaze, like you couldn't take your eyes off him even if you tried... but you didn't even want to try to save yourself from the gaze of his dark eyes.

And just as he was about to raise the cup to his lips, a commotion ensued around you. One of the paid hitmen you worked with has been identified.

The general threw down his glass and gave chase to the hitman. You took this opportunity to run out of the ballroom unnoticed.

You were lucky the general didn't drink the poison after all. If he did, it would be harder for you to leave Ravka and go back to your brother, since you all got disclosed.

In retrospect, you'd rather he'd drank that poison... maybe he'd have gotten rid of you at that first night.

If I was some paint, did it splatter On a promising grown man? And if I was a child, did it matter If you got to wash your hands?

You ran through the corridors until you bumped into one of the people who worked with you. You were breathing heavily from running from the pursuers of the First and Second Army.

"These Grishas dogs are everywhere. They caught Kostrov. We have to get the fuck out of here before their crazy Black General catches us too."

"Kostrov is caught? Shit. He'll turn us in before we leave the walls of this damn palace." you knew very well that if that was true, it was only a matter of time before the man revealed your hiding places. You must run away from there. And as soon as possible.

The voices of the soldiers and their quick steps rumble around you.

"Please tell me you have a plan."

"I always have a plan." you answer confidently and take her by a hand. You lead her through the corridors of the Little Palace until you are outside.

You are heading towards the exit gate when Grishas suddenly appear in front of you. You both stop, looking uncertainly in their direction. Fortunately for you, your disguise makes them a little less suspicious.

"You, get back to the Grand Palace. It's not safe here, servant." they said to you. "You're coming with us." they say, taking your co-worker by the hand.

They drag her towards the Little Palace, but she doesn't give up that easily. She breaks free from their grip, hugs you from behind and puts a dagger to your throat.

"One step closer and I'll kill her." Grishas' joined hands, ready to use a small science. You feel her dagger pierce your neck gently. Blood drips onto your collarbone just like the drops of your sweat. From this position, you can practically feel both her and your heart racing.

"What are you doing?" you whisper, angry at her.

"We'll both get out of here, or no one does." she growls furiously in your ear, backing away slowly. The dagger digs deeper into your skin as she realises there may be no way out of this situation.

You let out a loud scream, and suddenly her grip on you loosens. She falls dead to the ground, and you are right next to her. You press your hand against your throat and try to stop the bleeding. Your eyes study her lifeless body intently.

There are no injuries. No blood. No wound. One of the heartrenders must have stopped her heart.

You look around at the Grishas who are now coming towards you, and in a panic, you realise that there is not a single red kefta among them...

If it wasn't one of them then...

You shake as an unlikely thought comes to your mind, and the world slowly begins to blur into blurs as you feel the blood flow more freely from your neck and seep into your clothes. The dull, thumping beats buzz in your head, making it even more difficult for you to remain conscious.

Black material flashes before your eyes. You feel someone's strong arms lift you up. And before you completely lose your consciousness, you can feel HIS heart pumping warm blood rapidly. Yours is getting slower and slower.

And you wish you had died in his arms right then, before it all started...

A few hours later, you wake up in the Little Palace infirmary. You find out that you are a heartrender, and with your scream, you knocked down not only the woman who worked with you on this assignment (luckily no one knows about your identity and what you were really doing in the palace), but also the Grishas who caught you both (for the second time, the saints took watch over you, so you only knocked them unconscious for a moment).

Ah, and the Black General brought you here himself… the day like others.

Ooh, oh All I used to do was pray Would've, could've, should've If you'd never looked my way I would've stayed On my knees

You were kneeling in the chapel. The stained-glass windows and images of saints gave you a kind of solace in a strange way.

You often prayed to the saints. Even though there weren't many believers in Ketterdam in anything but profit and money.

You believed that they were somehow listening to the prayers of the people on earth… you just didn't know why they chose to so painfully ignore the cries for help for the lifes of your family.

You clutched a letter from Kaz in your hand. The tears had long since stopped falling from your eyes and had already dried on your face. After all, how many hours could you cry while sitting on one of the pew?

You didn't want to leave him like this. He was your little brother, and you loved him more than anything. Yet he threw it in your face for choosing your own comfort over his well-being. That you wanted to join the ranks of saints, forgetting who you were and leaving behind your past.

As if staying in the Little Palace was your choice.

You were thrown into the role of Grisha. You didn't even know how to control it... yet you were able to hold back thousands of hearts without any training or learning about small science.

You were capable of much more than an ordinary heartrender. You could manipulate the blood. Move people at your will, controlling the movement of blood through their veins and into their muscles, manipulating people's bodies to your will.

And you found out all this in just a few weeks.

You closed your eyes and rested your forehead on your joined hands. You were tired. Tired of being forced to accept a life you never wanted. You were a thief and a paid killer. Not any Grisha.

In the distance to your right, you heard a faint heartbeat. You sighed. Another bonus of discovering your powers. The sounds of the hearts of people around you overwhelmed you to the point that you had to hide in some secluded place to get rid of the pounding in your ears.

It sucked. And the man who was responsible for your miserable situation was standing right next to you now.

"I wouldn't take you for someone who prays to saints." his whisper echoed throughout the chapel. You turned your gaze away from him. You started looking at the stained glass windows in front of you.

"Maybe I just admire art, general."

"On your knees, with your hands together?" he asks sarcastically. You ignore the intense look of his dark eyes on you. He sighs, sitting on the pew next to you. "And it is Aleksander. I've told you many times."

"Shouldn't you be planning a war or something like that?" you huff, earning a small chuckle from him at your annoyance.

At first, you were afraid of this terrible, Black General of the Second Army. Over time, however, you allowed yourself to be more impertinent towards him. (When pretending to be an obedient Grisha irritated you to no end, you got into a fight and ended up in his war room while he was scolding you. You guess that you fascinated him not only with your powers then.)

"Shouldn't you get enough sleep for training with Baghra?" you groan in despair at his words. Baghra... another reason to run away from this place as fast as you can.

You get up from your knees and sit on the pew next to him. Kaz's letter tucked safely in the sleeve of your kefta, but you wonder how long it will be before he notices the unusual stiffness in your left arm.

"I'm not going there. This woman will kill me one day and tell everyone that it was my own incompetence that did it." his soft chuckle definitely shouldn't make your heart beat faster. You were glad he didn't have powers like yours to find out about this embarrassing fact. "I'm also a little concerned about you knowing my timetable." you say, actually suspecting that the general's good intentions are based on something completely different than your well-being. You still didn't know how you sold him the story about how the orphan from Ketterdam managed to become a servant for Ravka's royal family and didn't pass a single test during her stay in the Grand Palace.

"I care about every Grishas. Some require my attention more than others." He says, shifting his gaze to the stained glass window you were staring at.

Sankta Ursula of the Waves

"You can mock all you want, but I believe in them. You have to believe in something if you want to survive in Ketterdam."

He trembles slightly. He thinks you haven't noticed, but you have. He clears his throat and looks down from the image of a Sankta to look at something else in the chapel.

"Why you pray to her?" he asks, and you, not knowing the importance of this question at the time, shrug and simply say the truth.

"My brother crossed part of the sea alone when he was only 10 years old. If not thanks to the saint's help, I don't know how he survived…" you tell him.

You don't know why, but he has such an aura around him that you just WANT to tell him everything. It was easy to trust him enough to share some of your secrets... After all, everything that's in the shadows is safely kept from the world, right?

And in those dark eyes and that mysterious, confident smirk you could get lost so damn easily…

If you knew better, you would have tried to push him away from you instead of spending nights with him in the chapel, talking about your past or when he "accidentally" joined you, or in the palace garden when he "accidentally" wanted to walk around the lake in the moonlight. You have unknowingly let him to direct you straight to his intricately woven spider web.

And I damn sure never would've danced with the devil At nineteen, and the god's honest truth is that the pain was heaven

Genya has provided you with a wonderful kefta. However, its red was different from the others, Corporalki. It was more bloody, wine-like, and so dark that one could say it was mixed with black.

Aleksander said he needed to recognise his best heartrender, and this kefta, too fanciful for your taste, was supposed to be a symbol of your importance to the Second Army. As if the ridiculous amount of black thread he had ordered to use to decorate it wasn't enough of a sign that the Black General favoured you over his other soldiers.

It was one of many celebrations in the Grand Palace. However, on this occasion, the Tsar and Tsaritsa decided to invite the Grishas as well... or rather, have them entertain a crowd of self-righteous nobility on the occasion of the anniversary of the Ravka uprising.

You weren't a Ravkan. You weren't interested in some artificial celebration, but the general almost forced you to come to this stupid holiday with others... at least you could drink wine secretly with Genya and Fedyor.

You felt the blood flowing freely through your body as you danced with some other Grishas. You laughed carelessly for the first time in a long time and let yourself spin around as the handsome blonde held you in his arms.

The others' heartbeats hummed softly in your ears as you allowed yourself to let go of control a little. The orchestra's music effectively allows you to drown out the sound your powers have picked up.

Being so distracted, you didn't even notice when Grisha leaned closer to you and started whispering something in your ear. You laughed at the ridiculousness of his flirtatious offer and were about to reject him when suddenly an arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you into a strong chest.

As soon as the familiar smell of burning wood and musk mixed with kvass enveloped you, you relaxed. Suddenly, the possessive, too-tight grip on your waist where his large hand was pressing against your stomach and holding his breasts too close to be appropriate didn't bother you as much.

And if, instead of inhaling his scent and perfume like some drug and getting high on it, you saw the death glare he was sending towards the guy who was only flirting with you, maybe you would understand that it was better to run away from him as far as possible instead of melting into the soft fabric of his black kefta and appreciating his muscles you felt through it.

But you couldn't think of anything else but how lucky you were that your summer keftas were so thin.

“I'm going to steal Miss Y/F(ake)/L/N for a while." he says as if he has every right to you. But you are too intoxicated (both by his close presence and the wine you drank) to notice that something is wrong.

And instead of yelling at him like you should have, showing him that you weren't a thing he could take whenever he wanted, you blushed as he turned you towards him and gave you that damned, dangerous smirk that made many Grishas women swoon.

"You looked like you needed saving." he whispers into your ear, gently touching his bearded cheek to yours.

You bit your lip, looking at him as he pulled away from you, perfectly playing the role of gentleman and your fucking knight on a black horse. Too perfect for you to notice then...

"Thank you, general, for caring so much about an ordinary heartrender like me." you tease him as he leads you in a dance.

"My best heartrender." he replies, running his hand down your back, making you shiver. He suddenly dipped you down, forcing you to lean on his hands and trust that he won't let you fall on the floor. You were so close in his arms that you felt every breath he takes matching yours.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Grishas whispering about you, but you don't care. Not while you have him with you, not while he's looking at you with such curiosity and admiration that you feel like you're the only damn person in the room. And you see his eyes linger longer on the black stitched decorations of your kefta on your waist and chest.

"Be careful, Ivan will be jealous." you tease, giving him one of your prettiest teasing smiles, and you almost hold your breath, seeing a hint of something akin to lust in his eyes, as dark as his shadows.

"He has his Fedyor." he replies, pulling you slightly closer to him, and you know he can feel your rapidly beating heart.

He was dangerous—everything you should avoid—something that young and naive girls were warned about. But you were drawn to him like a moth to a flame. And the fact that such a special, powerful man like him was interested in the thief and killer from Ketterdam like you made you unable to push him away.

You liked his attention. The way he touched your cheek tenderly as he brushed the hair from your face after riding with him. The way he sought your presence and the way he showed up at unexpected moments when you really needed someone. The way he gently grabbed your hand, amplifying your already formidable powers so you could practice bigger, more impressive things with him than with Baghra.

He made you felt special, chosen. And with every single second you spend with him, you wanted more from him…

He left you with the tingling feeling of his lips on your hand after thanking you for dancing. He walked away from you, giving you a second glance and a wink. And then you knew he would be your death...

And now that I'm grown I'm scared of ghosts Memories feel like weapons And now that I know I wish you'd left me wondering

"I do not like winter." you say, sitting in one of his armchairs in the war room, warming your hands by the fireplace.

Baghra forced you to train outside, and the cold ingrained itself into your bones. You tried in vain to warm yourself up using your power. The old witch, seeing your incompetence, only let you go when your lips turned blue enough from the cold. And Aleksander was bustling around you now, wrapping an absurd amount of blankets around you and making tea for the two of you.

"Why is that?" he asks, placing the warm mug in your cold hands. You smile gratefully and take a sip, deciding that he did it perfectly, just as you loved it. Which, by the way, wasn't so strange, knowing how many sleepless nights you spent in that chair talking with him.

"My brothers once took me to a frozen lake to go ice skating. I fell into an ice hole, almost froze to death, and got a terrible cold. My mother said that I miraculously escaped death. My parents spent all their money on doctors and medicines for me. And as a result, my brothers and I were strictly forbidden to go out without her supervision. As you might expect, they weren't very grateful to me for this."

You see him swallow and stare into his cup in silence. You don't miss his tense shoulders and the frown on his forehead as he mentions something—something very bad, judging by the pale knuckles of his hands as they grip the cup tightly.

You slowly get up and put your mug on the table. You walk up to him and kneel in front of him. You take the cup from his hands before it breaks under his force, and you slow down his rapidly beating heart with your power to calm him down a bit.

The touch of your soft, gentle hands on his brings him back to reality. His dark eyes stare at you with great intensity, assessing and wondering something deeply as he pierces your very soul.

"I fell into the freezing lake too." he finally says, lowering his gaze to your joined hands. He plays with your fingers and draws patterns with his fingertips on your palm as he weighs his words, not looking at you, as if he might break down under your compassionate pattern. "I was 13 years old… two other children, my dearest friends, attempted to drown me in that freezing lake."

A cold chill runs through your body. You unconsciously squeeze his hands, trying to catch his gaze.

"Why?" you whisper, shakily, imagining that cruel moment.

He doesn't say anything. He lifts his head and looks at you, and he finds something in your gaze that makes him decide to stare hopingly into your eyes with his dark irises that reflect the glow of the fire in the fireplace for a while.

He sighs, closing his eyes, and suddenly you feel your hands tingle where your skin meets his. And it's not the usual feeling that washes over you every time you're in his intoxicating presence.

NO.

It was something bigger, more powerful, and much more addictive than anything, than Darkling himself was already to you.

"Use your power. Listen to the heartbeat." he whispers his command quietly, completely unlike the way he expresses his orders. And if you opened your eyes, you would see him staring at you intently, watching the reaction on your face.

And then you hear it. Thousands of heartbeats, you feel every flow of blood in the bodies of thousands of people present from the Little and Greate Palace, even throughout the whole capital.

Overwhelmed by so much power, you let go of his hands and breathe heavily, still feeling the blood rushing through your veins and that warm tingle spreading throughout you.

"What... what the hell was that?" you ask him in shock, trying to catch your breath. "How... how did you..."

"You know what an amplifier is, right?" he asks, sliding out of his chair and kneeling in front of you.

He reaches up and slowly tucks your hair behind your ear. You flinch at first at his touch, and he freezes, but you quickly nuzzle into his hand when you notice that you no longer feel as much power emanating from him to you as you did with his earlier touch.

"Yes, but..." you freeze, realising what he's implying. The impossibility of it all only stuns you for a moment. But so many impossible things have already happened in your life that, in the end, this little piece of information doesn't make that much of an impression on you. But you can't say the same about what you found out... about what he must have gone through in his childhood. They practically hunted him like those animals that enhanced Grishas' abilities. "Oh, Aleksander." you whisper and lunge at him to hug him tightly to you.

And by the short sigh he let out as he buried his face in your hair, and by the way it took him a moment to undoubtedly return your strong, tender hug, you knew that this wasn't what he expected, that this wasn't the kind of reaction he was used to seeing.

If only you knew back then that he would start using his memories more often as a weapon in the fight for your feelings, your affection, your forgiveness, and your compassion, then you would rather he left you in the dark, for him to never start sharing THE REAL parts of him with you.

If you never touched me, I would've Gone along with the righteous If I never blushed then they could've Never whispered about this And if you never saved me from boredom I could've gone on as I was

Ravka's love day celebrations are… more successful than you would like to admit.

You went to breakfast, convinced that you would spend today's day off alone, locked in your room or gossiping with Genya about anything other than the romantic, tense atmosphere in the palace.

You were wrong.

It started with you being presented with various flowers from various Grishas along the way, asking if you would spend the evening with them. And they were various proposals. Dinner, a walk in the palace gardens, a horse ride, even spending the night with them (which you found disgusting).

You entered the dining hall and sat down in your usual seat, responding to Fedyor's teasing as you placed a bouquet of all the flowers you were given on the table next to you.

"You don't want to take them from me? Ivan would be happy." you try to shush him but he just laughs more.

"Better tell me which ones are from the general." he teases you, picking up one of the flowers and hitting your shoulder with it.

You tense up and blush slightly. You make sure to mask the beating of your racing heart so that Fedyor can't use it as a clue to your true feelings for the General, which have developed over the months you've spent in the Little Palace.

"None. And it better stay that way. As if all these women didn't look at me with hatred anyway. Can you believe that for all these flowers, no one brought me my favorites? Or any sweets?" you complain jokingly, digging into your food and trying to act as if you were unimpressed by his comment.

"And what are your favorites?" he asks casually, also starting to eat his food. You answer him and then suddenly someone sits next to you. Inferni - Luke, the one you danced with at one of the events and your faithful library buddy, gives you a shy smile.

"Are you doing anything tonight?" he asks, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck.

You feel Fedyor's eyes on you, but you try to ignore him. The heartrender flies away, leaving the two of you alone. You don't know how to answer Luke. He was that classic nice, funny guy that any woman would kill for attention. And probably, if your life were different, you would gladly accept his invitation and reciprocate his shy flirtation.

But you can't and don't want to do it. You don't feel an ounce about Luke what you feel about a certain dark-haired man in a black kefta. And when Inferni's hand connects with yours, you mentally compare the feeling to the tingling excitement that the mere look of Aleksander's dark eyes stirs within you.

Fortunately, you're not the one who has to answer. A grunt from the two of you makes Luke let go of your hand. You both stare at your general, who stands with his hands clasped behind his back. He approaches you slowly and catches your gaze with his dark irises before looking at the Inferni sitting next to you.

"Unfortunately, Miss Y/F/N will be busy tonight." he replies, not even trying to hide from you the silent, unspoken threat he sends with his gaze towards the boy who tired to ask you out.

Luke nods and leaves with a quiet: "Yes, General."

Alexander looks at you, and for a moment, that's all you do. And if you were a little more careful, less blinded by your fascination with this dangerous man who, for some reason, puts you at the centre of his universe, you would try to get away from him as far as possible.

But you are not.

He offers you his hand, patiently waiting to see if you take it or reject it. But you both then know that you are too deeply enchanted by his intoxicating appearance, too mesmerised by the sound of his voice, and too hungry for his touch to allow yourself to lose his attention for even a moment.

So you gently placed your hand on his. He wraps it in a safe hug and helps you up. He pulls you a little closer to him so that the materials of your keftas rub against each other. And the overwhelming amount of black embroidery on it practically hides the red material underneath, matching perfectly to the general's black kefta. This obvious match only now seems trivially obvious to you.

And if the Grishas had any doubt that you belonged to the Dark General, the fact that he pulled out your favourite flowers from behind his back and handed them to you with a small, charmed smirk as you took them from him and buried your nose in the petals told them so quite clearly.

In that moment, you too realised how deeply you felt for this man.

That's why, when he leans towards you, his bearded cheek brushing yours, flushed from the overwhelming feeling that overwhelms you in his close presence, you don't object when he whispers in your ear:

“I'm about to kidnap you for tonight.”

The rational part of you screams at you that this is a bad sign, that he is saying it with too much confidence and hunger in his eyes to be considered mere flirtation and not an act of pure possession and dominance.

But you don't listen.

You don't want to listen.

You want to drown in those dark brown irises, be consumed by his darkness, if it meant that for the rest of your life he would look at you as the only person he wanted.You want to finally feel wanted. Needed. Chosen. The one and only.

And the fact that it was this most powerful Grisha who made you feel this way only fueled your desires more and blinded everything your mind was screaming to your deaf heart. A heart that was deaf to everything that wasn't HIM.

"I can't wait." you whisper back.

And you know, by the way he nods at you and walks away with his usual confidence, the twinkle of victory in his eyes, and the huge, satisfied smile when he realises you're watching him closely until he's out of your sight, that you are gone for good and there is no going back to who you were. That he has clawed his way into your soul too deeply to ever try to deny it.

But lord, you made me feel important And then you tried to erase us

This is one of the best nights of your life.

You knew this from the moment you climbed with him to the highest tower in the Little Palace, which was used to teach little Grishas astronomy lessons.

He laid down with you on the blankets and pillows he had prepared, especially for this occasion, and let you lean against his chest as you both gazed at the stars. You, safely wrapped in his arms and blankets, listened to his slightly accelerated heartbeat as if it were the sweetest music you had ever heard. And the fact that he rested his chin on top of your head, occasionally whispering something in your ear about the constellations in front of you, quickly became by far your favourite place in the world.

"For a long time I only slept under the stars. My mother and I always had to be on the run. We couldn't find a permanent place. People would try to kill the Darkling's son as soon as they found out about my existence."

You lift your joined hands and press a kiss to his as you continue to listen to him. You feel shivers run through his body. You learned, with the time you spend with him, that he was completely unaccustomed to the tender touch of another.

"They were my only solace in the darkness."

"Were you afraid of her? And your shadows?" you ask, turning in his arms to look at him properly. He shifts his gaze from the night sky above you to you and disentangles one of his hands from your grasp to caress your cheek tenderly.

"A bit. I couldn't control them then... they were... unpredictable. My mother used to mock me and say that I was no summoner if I allowed my own power to rule me."

"Aleksander." you whisper, tears in your eyes as you see the pain written all over his face. It was there every time he mentioned that cruel woman. You hold one of his hands tightly and say, with all your conviction and unwavering faith in this man, "You are the strongest person I know. You've been through so much... I'm probably not even aware of half of it yet, and yet, look where you are and what you have achieved. There has never been and never will be a better Darkling than you. You are caring and attentive; you take care of your people, and the Grishas under your rule are better than ever."

He stares at you, frowning halfway through your speech, and something like guilt shines in his eyes as tears begin to form.

You don't know it yet, then.

You don't know why he feels guilty. You don't know why he shivers as you lean into him to press your lips together in your first kiss. You don't know why his hands are shaking as he cups your cheeks. You don't know why, as you try to undo the buttons on his kefta, his hands suddenly stop yours. You don't know why he pulls away after a moment, whispering something under his breath as he practically runs away from you.

All you know for sure is his heart beating madly as he disappears from your sight and the tingling of your lips after the kiss the two of you shared a moment ago.

He hasn't come near you since that night. In fact, you feel like he's trying to avoid you at all costs. And in hindsight, you curse yourself for not taking the hint. That you didn't move away when he tried to make it easier for you.

But you were too stubborn, too longing for his presence floating around you like his shadows, to simply give up and do what's best for you. So you knock on his chambers in the middle of the night, and when he opens the door, you both know you're too far in all of this to try to ignore an attraction between you—this ache in your chest after not seeing each other for weeks.

You don't know who kisses who first. Or when he pulls you towards him and closes the door behind you to pin himself against it. You have no idea who took the other's kefta off first or when you found yourself in his bed as he tried to kiss every part of you. You know you feel safe, warm, loved, and at home. And it's a feeling you haven't felt in a very long time. And so did he. That's why you get lost in each other, completely disregarding the fact that, in the end, you would probably both tear each other's hearts out.

Oh, you're a crisis of my faith Would've, could've, should've If I'd only played it safe

He finds you kneeling by his fireplace as you slowly burn letter after letter you wrote to Kaz that he sent back to you. The bastard didn't even open it.

It's been a long time since you kneeled before anything other than him. Your faith in the saints was crumbling with each passing month in the ranks of the Second Army. If the saints were so powerful, why did they continue to allow Grishas to be treated worse than dogs?

You didn't understand it. And the next bottle of Aleksander's kvas that you opened only confirmed your belief that the saints sucked, your brother was an ungrateful scoundrel, and your boyfriend was the only good thing that happened to you. Boyfriend… it felt weird for you to call him that, but you had no other idea in your half-drunk state.

You put another letter into the fire when you suddenly feel a pair of arms wrap around you, pulling you into his strong chest. You sigh, appreciating his scent and the warmth that emanates from him. His shadows slowly wrap around the two of you as you both kneel in front of the fireplace and the burning letters to your brother.

"Are you playing Inferni?" he asks teasingly as his hands go to the bottle of kvas you're holding, and he takes a sip from it.

"Possible. Did you have to grovel before the king again to get money for Grishas for uniforms, training, and food? Which should actually be his fucking duty to provide this for the soldiers who are bleeding for him and other royal snobs on the Fjerdan border.”

"Possible. Don't say it out loud or elsewhere. I don't want to see that pretty ass through the bars in the dungeon."

"We both know you'd save that ass and drag it back to your bed." you both giggle like fools. You lean more into him and sigh satisfied when he starts running through your hair, playing with it.

"Possible. Very much. Who deserves your hatred?" he asks curiously as you throw another letter into the fire. "Be careful not to set fire to my chambers. I have some nice, matching keftas here for the two of us."

"I'm glad you find it amusing that my brother is a dick." you complain a little, wondering what keftas he's referring to besides the ones you're currently wearing.

He insisted that you have at least one all-black one with red embroidery. Of course you agreed. You wanted people to know you were his.

"He didn't respond?" he asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. You take his hand in yours and start drawing patterns on it with your finger. You cling to his claw-like ring and play with it for a while, spinning it around his finger.

"He actually did. He write a big 'Fuck you' at the back of one." you say thoughtfully as you shift your gaze to the letters burning in the fireplace. Maybe it was actually better to stop trying to establish contact with him for a moment and give him space to think?

"Don't think about him. You don't need him." he says, nuzzling your temple with his nose. You frown and turn your head to look at him.

"He is my brother... that's a bound that never die." you speak strongly, convinced that you are right.

The determination in your eyes makes him fall silent, staring at you as he thinks about something, or maybe someone, as he mindlessly plays with your fingers—a nervous habit he showed every time he held you against him and he thought about his past. In moments like these, you just wanted to kiss the sadness and pain from his face.

"Maybe." he finally whispers back, lost in thought. Suddenly, he shakes his head slightly and flashes back to you from his memories. "Maybe it is better for him like that? To only care about himself. To show that he is not emotionally connected to anyone. Maybe he is trying to keep you safe?"

"Why live without love? Without someone close to you who waits for you and cares for you? Who believes in you? Who would have your back at your worst and when you need a rescue?"

"Sometimes people have no choice. It's safer to live alone. To care only about yourself. You know that your actions won't hurt anyone, and if they do, it will only hurt you."

"I would rather live one life in the arms of my love than hundreds of them all alone and in meaningless glory."

He tenses, but his grip doesn't loosen around you. If anything, he grows stronger, as if he's clinging to you to make sure you don't go anywhere further than his arms reach.

He kisses your temple and pulls you in so that you're straddling his lap. He strokes your neck and collarbone gently, and after a long, tender kiss, he whispers into your lips:

"I need to get out and visit a few camps near the fold. Come with me… I need to keep an eye on you to make sure you stay in these arms of mine as long as possible." he teases you, but you know his question-order has more meaning than he is willing to admit.

For the first time, neither of you are alone. You have someone to come back to at night, someone to talk to about your problems, someone to hold in your arms. And it's both a pleasurable and addictive feeling for the two of you.

I would've stayed on my knees And I damn sure never would've danced with the devil At nineteen, and the god's honest truth is that the pain was heaven And now that I'm grown I'm scared of ghosts Memories feel like weapons And now that I know I wish you'd left me wondering

Sun Summoner. Saint Alina. Ravka's Savior.

The girl received more titles and merits, more hope placed in her than many saints to whom you prayed. You would feel sorry for her if she didn't completely rob you of YOUR Aleksander.

And you would endure it. Really. If only that little saint hadn't accidentally blurted out his name at dinner while she was talking to you.

And that's why you stood crying in your... his chambers. You were packing instead of getting ready for the winter fiesta celebrations, fully ready to mend your broken heart on the borders of Ravka, preferably in some camp near Fjerda, so that you could vent the anger, despair, and disappointment boiling inside of you to them.

Although you preferred to keep the heart of a certain little saint rather than some Fjerdan or Drüskell, and to be honest, that desire scared you.

Kaz was right. You chose comfort. You could have tried to escape from the Darkling better and put more effort into your escape plans instead of letting yourself be slandered by that damn bastard who gave that sunny whore a kefta in HIS colour after a WEEK. You waited fucking months for him to give you the black kefta you wanted, which was now hanging in his closet, abandoned like a rag.

In your anger, you packed your things blindly, oblivious to your surroundings. That's why you flinched when suddenly HIS hands gently held your arms, preventing you from packing any further.

You don't turn to face him. You don't make a move, waiting for him to say something as you listen to his heartbeat.

"Where are you going?" he asks, but you know he's only doing it to analyse his next move, to come up with a reason in his head why you'd want to leave him, and he's trying to quickly come up with a plan to talk you out of it.

You may not have known what a son-of-a-bitch he was, but at least you knew him almost as well as you knew yourself.

"On a vacation." you huff and shake his arms off of you. You close your leather suitcase with a bang and turn to face him. He notices that you're wearing your red kefta—the first one that clearly wasn't trimmed with a ridiculous amount of black embroidery typical of heartrenders.

"Y/N..." he sighs and reaches for you, but you pull away from him before his hands land on you and your traitorous body succumbs to his familiar touch.

"Don't. Don't even start it. I know what you are going say all to well."

"What are you talking about?" he asks, frowning at you. You look away from him and sit on his bed as you tie your travelling shoes and make sure you have your daggers hidden in them.

"Oh, you know. That typical 'It's not you, it's me' talk. And the classic 'I don't feel the same about you anymore. And it's my fault, not yours.' Just spare us this crap and let me go somewhere where I don't have to watch you cling to that sunny bitch."

In an instant, he's on his knees in front of you, clutching your hands in his. You know that looking into his damn hypnotic eyes will ruin you, but you're too weak to resist him.

"I admit... I've been busy with the Sun Summoner lately... but she's not the one I return to every night. She's not the one I think about every free moment; she's not the one I want to hold in my arms..."

"But she's the one who got the kefta in your colours from you. She's the one who learned your name before I did. The one you trusted right away when I had to earn your trust every fucking week here. She's your equal. Your goddamn complement. I won't stand in the way of your great, epic love and play the role of the other woman, only because you get used to having me around." you say mad and push his hands away from you.

And instead of letting you go and making the one damn right choice in your life, he stands up and traps you in the tight embrace of his arms and shadows.

You scream, squirm, and try to struggle out of his strong arms, even going so far as to pathetically punch his chest with your fists, but weakly enough that it seems more like a frantic act of your despair and hurt than an actual attempt. hurting him.

You scream, squirm, and try to struggle out of his strong arms, even going so far as to pathetically punch his chest with your fists, but weakly enough that it seems more like a frantic act of your despair and hurt than an actual attempt to harm him.

“Milaya, moye serdtse… (Sweet girl, my heart.)” he whispers in your ear, his hands caressing your back tenderly as you tremble against him. "You are the only light of my life. Moi sol ye tselai. (My sun and stars.) There is no one else, and there never will be. Alina may be the Sun Summoner, my opposite and complement, but it is YOU who challenges me, you are my EQUAL. It is you that I want to return to every night, you are with me... you are the one I want to always have with me."

And then it feels so romantic and sweet, so right, when he kisses the tears from your face and pulls the ring from his pocket to slide it on your finger after his quiet: "Kei onolich yash, milaya?" and your little, almost unnoticable nod.

It feels so good when he throws your leather suitcase off the bed in one move and lays you on it, worshipping you all night long and assuring you that he is yours and yours alone. You feel loved. Wanted. Chosen above the one and only Sun Summoner.

And in that moment, his warm, soft lips on yours, his cold hands caressing your body heated by him, the shadows floating around you that he accidentally released, and the sound of his pounding heartbeat in your ears were enough for you to forget that he was planning to gain Alina's trust in a nefarious way. It was so easy to explain it to yourself. It was so easy for you to convince yourself that he was a good man. It was definitely easier than admitting the obvious, painful truth.

After all, that was all you two wanted... to never feel lonely and unimportant again.

God rest my soul I miss who I used to be The tomb won't close Stained glass windows in my mind

The fold is dark. Cold. It doesn't resemble Aleksander's shadows at all. Your fiancé is also nothing like the version you knew.

Version. That's exactly what he was showing you.

Another version of him. Another of his hundreds of lives. You were so naive and stupid. He had to handcuff you to the deck of the ship so you could finally understand what he was really like.

And so you found yourself in the front row, watching the Black Heretic widen his fold.

He has the nerve to walk up to you and brush the hair out of your face that has been ruffled by the wind his squallers have summoned. And he does it with such tenderness that you almost believe in the truth of his feelings. Almost. The handcuffs blocking your power and hidden beneath the fabric of your black dress—another one of his sick ways of marking his ownership—are a stark reminder of how he has degraded you and how he has reduced your role to nothing more than a pretty toy on his arm so that he is not alone in his madness.

"Please... I just want to talk." he whispers, his hand never leaving your cheek as he caresses it with his thumb with utmost care.

You don't look at him. You can't anymore. His face is a blatant reminder of your stupidity and naivety. Your greatest weakness and desire - all hidden in the face of a handsome devil in front of you. A Starless Saint you used to pray to in the past...

"I don't care how long it takes you, but in the end, you'll understand and come to accept that there was no other choice. That I'm doing this for us. For you. For all the Grishas." he whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead.

You're shaking. And you curse yourself for doing this, both because you're afraid of him and because his mouth still manages to tear down all the walls you put up because of him around your heart.

"Do not touch me." you snap at him, furious. Trying to at least pretend that you really hated him with every fibre of your being.

This doesn't discourage him. Even the other way around, he pulls you closer to him, tangling his hand in the back of your hair to whisper into your ear:

"I will banish this attitude from you in time, moya tsaritsa." you freeze at his words, realising his true plan—to expand the fold and take over Ravka. He wanted to become a tsar...

"You must be delusional to think for even a second that you will take control over Ravka and put me by your side."

"Isn't that what we promised each other? Stay with each other no matter what? I have seen what you truly are, and I never turned away. I never will." he's trying to convince you, and you know that if it weren't for the numerous lies and half-truths he fed you, you would join him.

You wouldn't care about what he did, what he intended to do, or who he would hurt to fulfil his sick plan that had been hundreds of years in the making. You feel weak and naive like never before. All because of the man, you decided to give your heart and all your devotion.

"I promised this to General Kirigan. Not to the Black Heretic, poisoned by his maniacal beliefs and blinded by the grip of authority and power. No matter how hard you try, you will never have control over anything. Your shadows and pride will be your undoing, Aleksander."

You gasp when he suddenly grabs your jaw roughly, tightening his fingers around your bones and preventing you from saying anything. He glares at you, a combination of betrayal and pain in his dark eyes as he tries to decide what to do with you. And you know that if you were anyone else, he would have used his shadows on you long ago.

And for a moment, you wish that he could finally free you from the suffering, hopelessness, and inner conflict you feel every time you look at his face.

"You shall be right by my side... no matter what you think about me." he promised you, which almost sounds like a threat, and placed a soft kiss on your cheek, near your lips. "You will understand; I know you will... we have all the time we need."

Before you can ask him about the meaning of his words, hell begins to break loose around you.

And you don't know what amazes you more, the fact that Alina is able to resist the bond and summon an incredible amount of light, or the fact that your brother appears next to you, and with the help of some mad hatter with a gun who turns out to be a fabricator, they free you. Kaz and his people take you away from the fold, Aleksander and his Grishas.

You are free.

Only your heart seems to be bleeding, left far behind you in the hands of a man you don't know if he's still alive.

And for the first time in several years, after you have a very emotional conversation with your little brother and after you promise to help the Sun Summoner, you allow yourself to cry quietly in the room they rented in some old inn.

And the worst of it all is that you don't cry for who you were, for the lost years in the Little Palace, or for how Aleksander changed you and transformed you in his image. No. You cry over him because you don't know if you'll ever see that damn bastard again.

And to make matters worse, you find a picture of a Starless Saint in the room. And you know that Aleksander, dead or alive, will haunt you for the rest of your life.

And his engagement ring resting safely on your finger is obvious proof of that.

I regret you all the time Can't let this go I fight with you in my sleep The wound won't close I keep on waiting for a sign I regret you all the time

Baghra teaches you how to control and summon shadows.

Yes, Baghra, Aleksander's mother, who apparently turned out to be on your side, teaches you how to control and summon shadows.

During one rather nasty fight with Drüskelles, it turns out you can summon a fucking shadow cut.

And after Aleksander starts haunting you in your dreams and even in broad daylight, just like he does with Alina, you realise that she's not the only one who got an amplifier from him.

And so you found yourself in a library near the village where you were hiding, trying to find any information about Morozova and his amplifiers. And the women sitting across from you weren't much help.

"Why does he haunt her more than he haunts me? Could it have something to do with the fact that the bond between us is falling apart or is less durable than theirs?" Alina asks Baghra. You roll your eyes at her.

"He obviously has other… priorities." the old woman replies, clearly insinuating the motive for these priorities.

"Maybe please stop insinuating such nonsense?" you mumble over your book, trying to read the text.

It didn't help that you were distracted by their conversations and hadn't slept in days, too afraid of meeting him in your dreams. He was all you could think about anyway.

"I'm just stating facts. The boy constantly thinks about you; you think about him. You seek and reach out to each other unconsciously and appear before the other eyes."

"I'm not at all…"

"I wouldn't embarrass myself more if I were you." Kaz says, walking alongside Mal, Inej, and Jasper. Everyone but him is carrying large stacks of books for your wonderful group to look through.

"At least this one has a brain." Baghra comments, insulting everyone at the table. You can see from Kaz's look that he's rather pleased with her comment. "It's better for you that you're a cripple." you huff, amused, seeing Kaz's expression revert to his trademark cold stare. He frowns grumpily as he plops down on the couch next to you.

It was in good enough condition to allow you to lean on it for a while. That's why you took the opportunity and placed your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes for a moment.

"Are you going to meet your geek?" he asks teasingly, and if you didn't know him, you'd think the snarky tone was meant to mock you.

"You better keep an eye on your girlfriend, Kazzle. She's far too good for you," you whisper back to him and smile victoriously, hearing his heart speed up at the mention of Inej.

"Shut up and go to sleep."

You agree and allow yourself to fall asleep for the first time in days, hoping someone will wake you up if Aleksander invades your dreams again.

If clarity's in death, then why won't this die? Years of tearing down our banners You and I Living for the thrill of hitting you where it hurts Give me back my girlhood It was mine first

As soon as you open your eyes, you realise that you are in a different place, somewhere you have never been before. You look around the room and stop in front of the mirror. You shudder as you realise you're wearing the black kefta HE once gave you.

"One day without your annoying presence, is it that much to ask?" you say, turning around after you saw his figure in the mirror.

You shiver, realising that he's much closer than you expected. For a moment, you wish you could pinch yourself to get out of there. It would definitely make life easier for your battered heart.

"You're so successful at avoiding me that I have to take advantage of every opportunity you give me, milaya." he says and takes a step towards you.

You automatically step back, making him clench his fists, keeping them to himself. He sighs and looks at you again, his dark brown eyes scanning your soul, trying, as usual, to find something to convince you to come back to him.

"Please… I just want to talk. You know I would never hurt you." he makes his cute, kicked-up puppy face. Your stupid heart hurts to see him so... broken, but this time your brain is screaming over your heart's pleas for mercy to this man.

"Do you want to talk? Then maybe you can tell me why you put an amplifier in me? Why did you let me summon your shadows?! Why did Grishas have to evacuate from the Little Palace, and why is the king hunting us like Fjerdans and Drüskelles?!" you ask angrily, unconsciously moving closer to him with each sentence you shout at him.

"You can try to make me a monster if it makes you feel better, but I am not your enemy. And you know it. Everything I do, everything I have ever done, I've done for Grishas. And everything I ever do will be for Grishas and for you." he says, as usual, maintaining that damn composure that makes you hate him more. You hate that he pretends he's perfectly fine while you're falling to pieces every day you walk without him by your side.

"Lying. That's all you can do. Lie, manipulate. Tell me, how many gullible girls have you fooled with your beautiful eyes and idealistic talk? How much girlhood have you taken and used for your own benefit?" you ask him, wanting to hurt him, wanting to cause him the same pain he gave you when you found out the truth about him, and your world crumbled around you like a house of cards. Because that's all your life was. Illusion. An illusion created by a man you couldn't hate like he deserved you.

"I've never taken anything you didn't give me willingly."

"I gave you everything just not to lose you. You made me dependent on you; you made life without you seem like cruel torture; you showed me things that I can't even feel with anyone else; you manipulated me so well that I don't feel that I exist without being by your side." you accuse him with tears in your eyes. You're letting them fall freely as you look at his shocked, hurt face. "And every pain you brought me was like fucking heaven. And the worst part of it all is that I would still be your fucking faithful follower and completely surrender my battered soul to you if only you hadn't fucking lied to me."

You let yourself fall apart in front of him. You let him touch you again as he tenderly cups your cheek and pulls your head to his chest. You cry into his kefta, hugging him tightly and digging your fingers into his back as he presses his lips against your head and holds you tightly in his arms.

"I hate you. I hate you." you cry into his chest, inhaling his scent like a drug.

"I will always love you, milaya." he says calmly, but you feel the drops dripping on your hair, and you let yourself believe that they are his own tears as you stand there in each other's arms, clinging desperately to each other.

And I damn sure never would've danced with the devil At nineteen, and the god's honest truth is that the pain was heaven And now that I'm grown I'm scared of ghosts Memories feel like weapons And now that I know I wish you'd left me wondering

Fedyor struggles with Ivan's grip. However, both you and the two heartrenders know that this makes no sense.

The two of you (and Baghra, whose whereabouts you were unaware of) were captured by Aleksander's men. You both actually volunteered. You were supposed to distract attention from the rest of your group of world saviors. Aleksander took the throne as he had predicted. And Ivan now leads you before the new tsar.

You walked through the corridors of the Little Palace, knowing this place all too well by heart, and you wondered if, when Aleksander was building it, he always had in the back of his mind that it would serve as his royal residence in the future. You were actually surprised that his first order wasn't to demolish the Grand Palace.

"Moi tsar." Ivan's voice pulls you from your thoughts. You weren't even aware that you had already reached the throne room.

"Finally. Interrogate the prisoner. Tsaritsa stays here." he says, and you feel his gaze on you, but you don't give him enough satisfaction to grace him with your gaze.

Fedyor swallows. You give him a sympathetic look as he walks away, with Ivan holding him tightly. What can war do to two people in love? You think. At least Fedyor knew how to hate Ivan... not like you.

There's an awkward silence between you for a moment. Only the rustle of his royal kefta and the heavy steps he takes in his shoes make you look up at him. And you hold your breath.

Of course, you had heard the rumours about his visit to the fold, leaving him with souvenir scars from his encounter with volcras, but well... it wasn't your fault that you immediately thought how hotter he was because of them. And with a crown on his head and a black kefta with red embroidery, he looked amazing. He had no right to look like that when you stood in front of him in your brother's oversized shirt and pants borrowed from Inej.

"Tsaritsa?" you finally ask with a sneer, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I knew you'd react to that." he says with a smirk, walking over to you. "I promised you this, remember? And I keep my promises. Even if I didn't really know you, Y/N Rietveld." you flinch at the sound of your real name, which you somehow managed to push from your memory. You also notice his clear reference to what you told him then in the fold. 'You lied to me too. About your identity. A paid killer. That's why you were at the palace, right? That's why I got the cup from you, with poison in it, if I'm not mistaken?"

"As you can see, quite miserable if you're still alive. Besides, I tought telling you half a story was not a laying at all?" you say, looking at him defiantly. He just laughs and stands in front of you, chest to chest, as you stare at one another.

"Is this how it will be now? Using each other's words against each other?"

"You can let me go, and then you won't have to talk to me at all." you say and he laughs, tucking your hair behind your ear and caressing your cheek with his thumb.

His fingers wander along your jaw, to your neck, to your collarbone, to your shoulder, and to the handcuffs on your hands, blocking your power.

"That's not the option. You are staying right where you are, right where you belong. With me." he says, and to your surprise, he removes the handcuffs from you. He takes your hands in his and presses his lips on the small, almost imperceptible marks on your wrists from handcuffs. He also didn't miss the opportunity to fondly stroke the engagement ring he gave you, which is still on your finger. It makes you blush unwillingly. "I can be your monster and force you to stay to make the whole situation easier for you."

"I would never choose you. Blood is thicker than water." you say, furious at his suggestion that you would choose him over your brother.

"But you can't leave without any of this, can you?"

You become silent. Because he's right. You can't live without him, and you have no idea what awaits you next, but you know that you will have to lose someone. And you are afraid of the end result more than anything else.

Suddenly, he stands behind you. You feel his chest rising and falling with each breath on your back as he suddenly raises his hands. There is something heavy, metallic, and heavy on your head. The bastard gave you a damn crown.

"It's you and me, Y/N. And we are all we need anyway." he says and places a kiss on your temple. He presses his nose, inhaling your scent and hugging you tightly, pressing you against him as his shadows circle the room and wrap around the two of you. You can't deny it and say that you don't feel comfortable at all, that you don't feel the relief that his presence once brought you. Because you do. You've always done. "I will give you the world, everything you want... all you have to do is stay."

You don't protest when he places a gentle hand on your jaw and tilts your head to kiss you. You don't try to break free from his grip as he deepens the kiss, expressing all the longing, anger, and affection you feel for each other. And you eagerly push him to his throne, to straddle him and prove that you want him as desperately as he wants you.

Oh, God rest my soul I miss who I used to be The tomb won't close Stained glass windows in my mind I regret you all the time I can't let this go I fight with you in my sleep The wound won't close I keep on waiting for a sign I regret you all the time

You stood next to him. Just like he wanted. This was your plan before you even came back to him. Fedyor also got back into his good graces and gave them information, and you tried to convince your stupid heart that you were doing the right thing. And now you watched as Alina fought with him to destroy the fold.

And you're really prepared for him to die. You replayed this moment a thousand times in your head as you lay by his side in the Little Palace, watching him in his sleeping state.

What you are not ready for, and what the volcras around you make you realise, is life without him. Without his shadows. Without his voice. Without his dark eyes. Without his touch.

You're still trying to fight with it. Convince yourself that you are stronger and that you can do it. But when you see Alina pick up a Grisha steel dagger and aim it at Aleksander's chest, you react automatically.

You link your hands and form a cut faster than you can process it, and in a moment, the Sun Summoner ceases to exist.

It's just you and Aleksander in the fold.

The world stops for you. Your hands shake as you realise what you've done. And if it weren't for Aleksander's quick reaction and logical thinking, the volcra would have sniffed you out before you could take a step. He guides you out of your crease without even stopping for a moment. But you know it doesn't make sense. You will both perish without light.

Volcra attacks you, despite Aleksander's best attempts to keep them away, and cuts your arm. You scream as suddenly a bright light flows out of you along with your blood. Both you and Aleks freeze and stare at the strong beam of light from your shoulder.

Aleksander tightens his grip on you. You feel him as he amplifies the light within you and brings you out of the fold. You stop only when you are a few metres away from it. You kneel on the ground tiredly, mentally both cursing and thanking the saints, because you have no goddamn idea how you survived this and why Alina's powers transferred to you.

Aleksander is quickly at your side and wraps you in his tight embrace, whispering something you don't quite understand yet. You're too focused on the fact that you can't feel his heartbeat anymore. Your own powers are gone...

And with that, you realise that Y/N Rietveld had long been buried six feet deep beneath the walls of the Little Palace when your eyes met the devil you sold your soul to for the first time.

You gently push Aleksander away from you and kiss him, knowing that this is the only thing that can calm the storm of thoughts raging inside you as you absorb new revelations.

The fold claimed many lives. And it will absorb more than one in the future. It was the tomb of many common people as well as Grishas. And you know it buried Y/N Rietveld/Brekker today.

But a completely new person came out of it. Y/N Morozova. And she was no longer going to pretend that her soul knew anything of her old life anymore. She wasn't going to waste another night wondering how her life could've, would've, or should've gone. Not wasting another moment in the arms of the love of her arms, wondering if it was right to care about him. You didn't play it safe. So now you're going to take what life has got for you. And not alone. Never alone anymore.

"Let's go home, Sasha." you ask him, whispering.

And after a tender kiss on the forehead, you know that you couldn't have made a better decision. Maybe your soul has always been under the care of the saints, specifically this Starless one?

In any case, being the devil's wife suited you.

[ermnmika]

Dating Dabi headcanons

Because I have a Dabi brainrot and you should too. Enjoy. dabi x villain!gn!reader.

warnings: mentions of smoking, wounds, scars and blood. mentions of dabi's true identity (no details, no spoilers).

a mix of fluff and angst. no NSFW. i tried to make him as canon as possible, but feel free to correct me. also this is fucking huge.

inspired by @chainelunaire's headcanons of dabi, especially the sewing and dealing with the smell parts.

• this man is very unapproachable. he pushes people away, doesn't let anyone near him, doesn't even speak to people unless it's necessary. he has this cold and smug demeanor that pisses a lot of people off, but he doesn't really give a shit. all he has in his heart and head at this moment is revenge.

• let's be honest, when you join the league and you two meet, he doesn't think of it much. in his eyes you're just an ordinary bystander that may help him as an asset to achieve his goals. there's nothing of that love from the first sight shit, not from him, not from you.

• the thing that starts attracting you to him the most is curiosity. after getting acquainted with all the other members of the league, you notice something - dabi is different. he feels different. he’s so closed off that no one really knows much about him, and you never once believed that dabi even is his real name. he discusses the plans, does the job, and then he's gone. even if he is in the room with everyone, he doesn't participate in things, standing in the shadows. he's more like a ghost than a real person.

• it takes some time to notice the subtle signs of communication with other members not regarding villain work. when toga tries to have some fun with him, he only rolls his eyes, telling her to shut up and leave him alone. but, there was this one time that you remember to this day: when you entered the room you were met with toga, sitting on the couch and looking at her reflection from a piece of broken mirror in her hands, while dabi is standing behind her and doing her hair. she somehow managed to get him to give her a new hairstyle and not refuse. you guessed it was because she was a comfort kid in the league, the weak point of all the members, even the most distant ones. you observe him when he's listening to twice rant about something patiently, or him discussing what new design compress could use for his next mask. he’s mostly tense, sometimes smug and easily irritated, but you see the quick glances at members when something snaps and they start arguing, or the way his brows furrow when some of them come back injured from a mission. you know nothing about this man. his likes, dislikes, dreams and aspirations, not even his real name or age. but something about him makes you think there's something more inside his heart than just hate and resentment.

• so you decide to stick by his side. find something about him, anything. and you do. you find out that this man is a walking talking contradiction. his small smug smile, but his empty lifeless eyes - a contradiction. his careless attitude, but his desperate attempts to get rid of the smell of burnt flesh - another contradiction. him keeping his distance, telling everyone to fuck off and leave him alone, but not flinching a bit when the members touch him. another one. you can't keep your smile when you think about it. he isn't the type of person he tries to have the impression of.

• he notices it too - he's very observant since he doesn't talk a lot. notices you. notices your worried glances, your thoughtful gaze, your… staring. since you became a new member he didn't trust you much, because he obviously doesn't trust people that easily. you had to work to get his trust… and you did, not even trying to. you did your work efficiently, you treated other members well, hell, you even played those stupid videogames with shigaraki that he couldn't stand. and you looked at him, not averting your eyes. he had a feeling that sometimes you looked inside him, so deep inside, that it was hard to imagine.

• it slipped past him - the time when he begins to seek your eyes whenever you are together at the bar. when he begins to feel relieved when you come back uninjured, when he doesn't want to leave and keep his distance when you stand close to him. his head, once full of pure and aching rage, his only goal in life, starts to get filled with thoughts of you… and he's terrified. it fucks with his brain and he's so confused.

• he’s fucking dense when it comes to human relationships, but the signs are very clear. he knows that you care, he just doesn't understand why. why would you? he did everything to push people away, and, well… he's hideous. on the outside and on the inside. he’s a terrible human being who got wronged by life, and he didn't want to make yours even worse than it was. the confusion is too constant and irritating. he doesn't understand his own feelings, and he doesn't understand why you would want to be with someone like… him. so he decided to not do anything, not make any difference, and let you realize that he's not the type of person you want to get together with. and when you leave him alone, the feelings will disappear, too.

• but of course, life wronged him once again by not agreeing with his plans. every day it became more suffocating for him to exist in the same space as you. of course, you weren't a pure angel, you had your own cut of crimes, but you were too nice to him. he couldn't stand it. side note: you were actually nice to everyone, it's just that his heart dropped every time you did it to him. he felt stupid, so stupid, he wanted to bang his body against the wall to get rid of this… sappy shit.

• you saw it. you saw the difference, because you kept observing carefully. is this how he reacts when he realizes people can care about him? it was ridiculous, a tiny bit fun, but for the most part very upsetting. at some point you found yourself wanting to get closer, to understand him more, to be… near him. to not leave his side. to protect him. at that moment you realized you fell. you fell pretty hard for this dumb little arsonist.

• months pass, and he makes a stupid mistake of letting you get dangerously close to him and his life. it became a routine - smoking and talking with you on the balcony, even though you don't smoke, taking strolls with you around the bar at night, stealing shit and leaving it “accidentally” for you to take, letting only you treat his wounds after operations (and secretly holding his breath while watching you treat him), subconsciously protecting you on missions, and most of all, feeling almost completely safe in your presence. he hadn't felt safe with someone his whole life, he could confidently say it was the first time. months passed, but it was still terrifying.

• the league members knew too, of course. your mutual attraction was so obvious that no one even questioned it anymore. suddenly dabi starts coming to movie nights which he used to skip, just to sit next to you on the couch and shit on the movie afterwards. he doesn’t even pay attention to it. just thinks about you falling asleep on his shoulder. but it doesn’t happen because you’re worried you’d scare him off with sudden physical contact. since when did his comfort become your priority?

“So,” Mr. Compress calls him, while cleaning an empty glass after one of those nights. “When are you planning to confess?”

“What?” Thought Dabi out loud, dumbfounded. “The fuck do you mean, Compress?”

“I guess it’s still not the right time…”

• the right time arrived when you were almost fatally wounded in a battle against multiple pro-heroes. death was undoubtedly scary, but what was more terrifying was the absolute shock and panic written all over dabi’s face. you had never seen him like this before, and neither had anyone else, because he had forgotten what it feels like to care so much about another human being that he felt like dying inside. he pressed your weak and injured form to himself, not caring about the blood, and covered you with his whole body, carrying you in his arms. he was scared shitless, and you gave all your effort to not lose the grasp on life and survive. you didn't really have anything worth to live for, and after all th things you've done you probably deserved to die, but you loved the league, and you loved him. so you were not to give up.

• there were too many colors and sounds surrounding you, but you had no idea what was going on. you felt so, so exhausted. the world before you started to lose its brightness, and you just wanted to close your eyes for a moment…

He looked at you and his breath hitched. He had to get you to a safe place, now. “Hey, hey, fuck…” He pleaded as he touched your face, trying to wake you back up, voice filled with horror and immense worry. “No… Don’t you dare fucking die on me. You hear me?! If you die I’ll fucking kill you myself.”

• you woke up the next day, all patched up in your apartment and with Dabi by your side. he never left, you thought. you found out he can't cry. he found out he's in love.

“I never asked to be here at all,” he whispered, holding you close, having you in his grip like you're the last drag of air he had left. You buried your head in his neck, his heartbeat almost like a loud drum in your ears. You were so cold, and he was so warm. “So why do I have to face the fear of losing you?”*

• after that it just kind of happened on itself. his fear of losing you overcame his fear of being vulnerable. everyone knew you were together, and they were all glad that you came back to them alive. it felt very… different. things changed. you tried to be as open to him as you could, though it was difficult even for you. you only saw him being vulnerable once, on that day. after that, he still kept his distance, because he needed time to adjust to everything. it was new for you too, so you understood and waited patiently.

• he became very self-conscious since you two got in a relationship. before that he didn't really care what people thought of him, but now he had a person he somehow had to not lose. and he couldn't help not feeling hideous. you were looking, and you saw the scars, and you felt the smell, and you looked inside his burnt heart.

• he couldn't help feeling nervous when he met your curious and… loving gaze. he closed his eyes when you brought his hands to your face and placed gentle kisses every morning you were together because he couldn't handle it. he wasn't used to getting affection, at all. he felt like ripping his body apart, but it also somehow felt good, almost addicting. why couldn't he just crawl into your head to understand your thoughts?

• once he gets used to all the physical affection, it's over for you. he’s not letting you go. once he realizes you actually like feeling him on your skin too, you're stuck with him. this man is a touchstarved lonely loser that hasn't even realized it till now, so he's glued to your body and there's no way out. he basically lives in your apartment now because you didn't want him to stay on the streets, and that means constant hugs, cuddles, kisses and more. you want some time to relax on the couch and read, or watch something on your phone? his head is on your lap, nose sticking into your tummy. if it takes more time than he anticipated, his patience runs out and he falls onto you with his whole body, knocking whatever you held out, and caging you in his grip. if you're making something in the kitchen, he wraps his hands around your waist and kisses the nape of your neck. he also loves having you on his lap, tucked in under a blanket, and he kisses your forehead. makeout sessions on the floor, holding your hand when you're on a rooftop, looking at the stars, groaning and not letting you go in the mornings. you both feel heat rising to your faces in moments like this, because sure, you touched other people, but it was never this… open, vulnerable, genuine and gentle.

• every day he surprises you with how sincere he actually is. dabi the first time you met and dabi in your arms now are like two different people. you find his playful and childlike personality rise up to the surface, replacing the cold and smug one. the moments like these are rare, but very… memorable. you hear him banging on your bathroom door when you're taking a shit because he misses you, and when you yell back, he responds with “y’know babe, i don't mind the smell. you put up with mine, so i can do the same”. or when he keeps losing in a videogame and throws the phone at the corner of the room, and punches a pillow a hundred times. “i can't! how do you fucking do these things? is there a cheat or something?” and you laugh. you laugh, and you laugh, and he thinks it's the warmest feeling he ever felt. so he keeps making you laugh. you feel so loved, because it's only you who sees him like this. it's only you who he trusts this much.

• he tells you he likes sewing. no one really did it for him obviously, and he liked holding onto his clothes, so he had to do it himself, and he actually found it soothing. so whenever you needed something patched up, he picks it up immediately. if you get a hole in your sock, he's on his knees and doing the job. he also loves dancing. he was secretly doing it his whole life, it felt freeing, in a way. and he's become good at it. on some nights he grabs your hand and pulls you into a slow dance, in a dark kitchen with the only lighting source being a lightbulb in the fridge. he doesn't think of this as romance, he never knows what romance actually is, he just does what he thinks you might like. and you like it a lot.

• there are tough times in many relationships, and yours wasn't an exception. we all know dabi isn't the most mentally healthy and stable one. there were times when he regressed back to distancing himself, when the guilt and doubts would eat him alive, and he was gone for days, if not weeks, only coming to your apartment at night through your window, and lying beside you on the bed, bringing you close. you asked him what's wrong, you tried to be there for him, but sometimes it was just unbearable. he can't. he can't tell you. he trusts you, he truly does, but not fully. he doesn't trust anyone fully. so you argue. again, and again, and again. he comes home with bruises and injuries, that you have to tend to, and you find out that his “metabolism issues” that he mentioned in the league was a lie to cover his overheating. you ask him to be careful over and over, but he can't. he has to prepare and achieve his goals. and it's dangerous. he doesn't want to involve you in that shit.

• give him time. it's all that he needs. it hurts both of you, and he hates to see you upset. he thinks that you would leave him because of it, and it scares him to his core. for the first time in his life he allowed himself to let someone get so close, and if you left, he couldn't even imagine what kind of person he would become. if you left, you’d rip out a part of him and leave him completely empty. but he always expected it. always expected you to leave him. because who would want to stay with someone like him? someone so stubborn and selfish, secretive, irritable, cold and… disgusting. so he would understand if you left, but it would hurt worse than the depths of hell he resided in.

• but you don't. you stay. it keeps hurting you, but you still stay. it irritates him, he's confused again, but he holds you close at night, he kisses your fingers, and you stroke his hair, while he's listening to your heartbeat. and then it all spills like blood from his burnt skin. he tells you everything, slowly and carefully, and you feel like you passed some kind of test. it’s ironic for some reason. he tells you about who he actually is, his childhood, everything that got up to this point, his crimes and his plans and goals. you listen attentively, and he looks so… small. open. weak and vulnerable. he looks up at you and waits for a strike. he expects you to get disgusted, to curse him and regret ever falling in love with him, to blame him for all his sins, and finally leave. it's like he went back to being a child that is about to get irreparably broken. but you only sigh, kiss the crown of his head and tell him he should’ve told you earlier. you say that you will go through all of this together, that you won't leave him, not now, not ever.

• he can't believe this. what is wrong with you? it wasn't supposed to be like this. after everything he did you still chose to stay with him. it was ridiculous. you ruined his whole perception of people. that night he kissed you until you were both suffocating. it hurt like a bitch, it ripped your insides. but you decided not to cry. you decided to learn.*

• and so, you kept smoking on the balcony together. you kept taking strolls around the bar at night. you kept coming to movie nights with the league and snuggle under the shared blanket. you kept protecting each other, treating each other's wounds, healing together. you trusted him with your life. he trusted you with his soul and beyond. you were now the most precious thing in this world for him. he even decided to try and not die for your sake. did he forget his initial goals? obviously not. has he obtained a new dream? yes. will he burn this world to ashes for you? yes. will he do anything for you? probably. if you ask well enough.

* a lyric from "the fear of losing this" by florist

* a lyric from "devour" by mr. kitty

in conclusion: he's a touch starved little babygirl that needs attention. not proofread, so i apologize for any mistakes in advance. also, eng is not my first language, so there's that.