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parkersbliss · 23 hours ago

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Met Him Last Night | P. Graves

pairing: phillip graves x gender neutral reader

synopsis: you make a decision to trust him, just this once. don't be surprised when it backfires.

warnings: graves, mentions of soap's death, possible timeline inaccuracies, one sexual reference

a/n: based on the song "met him last night" by demi lovato ft. ariana grande :) down bad for this man pls he's my american babe

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

requests open for call of duty!

—

“Red or white?”

“Neither.”

“White it is,” They tell the server, pointing to one of the names.

You sigh, leaning back in your seat. What were you doing this late at night here? With him?

Graves is sitting in front of you, smirking at your sour expression and you want to rip it off his face.

The server returns with the bottle and two glasses, pouring it for both of you. Graves thanks him and then gestures for you to take a sip. He grabs his glass, raises it to you in a toast, and waits. You hesitate for a second before grabbing the other glass. After all, what’s there to lose? You’ve already sat here with him, might as well make it more bearable.

“That’s more like it,” He chuckles as you take a huge gulp. It has a hint of white peaches, delicate, but rich and intense as you finish it.

You set the glass back down. “You’re an instigator.”

“So they tell me,” He replies with ease. “But isn’t this so much more fun than drowning in your own sorrows?”

You’ll give him that, at least. You weren’t sure why you thought this was a good idea. You don’t really believe in Graves and what he stood for. Or lack of what he stood for.

Yet, here you were, sat in this restaurant with him, indulging him when you shouldn’t. A meeting with the devil.

“You know you don’t have to like so sour to be here, darlin’. It was your choice to contact me.”

“I’m starting to regret that,” You mumble, knowing he was right. In a moment of weakness, you begged for a contact with him and did some dingy shit, but you got it. You should at least give him a chance after all that hard work.

“I’m not good enough company?”

“I’ve had better.”

He fakes a frown. “Hurtful, really. But I know you’re mourning, so I’ll let it slide.”

You roll your eyes. “How generous of you.”

“You know, they do say I am quite a giver.”

You narrow your eyes at him. Giver? He must have spoken wrong, he was a digger. Grave digger or gold digger. They both fit him. “Well, that’s some bullshit.”

Graves laughs, the skin around his eyes crinkling. “No, I’m generous to the right people,” He corrects you. “My shadows get bonuses every year for Christmas.” He extends a hand to gesture at the table. “I’m paying for our lovely dinner tonight. Think that must constitute for something.”

“Thank you,” You said, honestly. He was right after all, you called him here and all you’ve done is hurl insults at him. “I’m sorry.”

He quirks a brow. “For what?”

“I could be better company.”

“Ah, nonsense!” He waves a hand, dismissing your apology. His voice lowers, “Anyone in your position would be the same way, snippy and all.”

“I’m not snippy!” You’re quick to defend. Though the look on his face says you might have just proven his point. “A little snippy,” You admit.

“And that’s okay. It’s never easy losing a teammate to something so… preventable.”

You clench your jaw at that mention and he takes quick notice. “But enough of that. Let’s talk about you.”

“What about me?”

“Anything you like, darlin’.”

“I have a cat,” You blurt out.

“Do ya?”

You nod. “Yeah, my friend takes care of him while I’m away. He’s uh… a tuxedo.” You pull out your phone to show him a picture. “He’s a little shit.”

Graves leans in to look at the photo of your cat. “He’s cute, can’t blame him.”

You snort. “I can’t have a Christmas tree 'cause he scales that thing to the top.”

“So he likes a little fun.” Graves shrugs. “Don’t see nothin’ wrong with that.”

You shake your head, a little amused. Of course, he would say that. “It’s more than that.”

“Then tell me.”

The conversion becomes easy after that. After you stopped insulting him, at least. Anyone who knew you knew the easiest way to get you to open up was through your cat. Maybe the wine is getting to your head, but he’s not so bad. Phillip makes you laugh, you make him laugh. You banter, you rant, you cry, and he understands. He promises you exactly what you’re looking for.

“We don’t play by the rules, darlin’. Believe me, I can get you exactly what you want.”

You’re gone after that, having split the bottle of wine between the two of you. Any rational thoughts of what’s wrong and right have left your mind. The devil has promised you something, and he always keeps them. And perhaps you’ve promised something you shouldn’t have.

He pays the bill, he walks you home with a hand on your back, and he stands at your doorway saying ‘goodnight.’

But you don’t want to be alone.

He spends the night. Once. Twice. Three times. Too many to keep track of, but you didn’t care to anymore. Not when you sang Phillip’s praises when he was between your legs, or when he’s bringing you flowers when he sees you, or holding you late at night as you continue to mourn and find comfort in someone like him.

There’s something warm and fuzzy about him. Something that makes your head spin and your legs weak. You don’t think when he’s around (maybe that’s the problem), but you don’t need to.

“Never have to worry your pretty head ‘bout a thing darlin’.” Phillip would say, and so you did.

You let him take care of your plan, your revenge, his promise. You let him take of you, healing some part of you that hadn’t after you lost Johnny.

At least that’s what you thought, but maybe you got lost along the way, turned around, and headed straight into his arms.

He made it so easy after all, didn’t he? To believe in him, that is. And you did a fucked up thing, really. A mistake on your part. Phillip had loyalty to no one but his shadows. For you to even think he’d extend that to you? Well, you had to be stupid or in love.

And you weren’t stupid.

You storm around your apartment, phone gripped tightly in your hand. You were fucked.

“Are you kidding me?” You practically scream.

“Darlin’, please, it’s not personal.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You used me.” You’re practically fuming at him. He was smart, finding you when you were vulnerable, and letting you reach out first. He prayed on your innocence, on your hurt. You damn sure weren’t letting that happen again.

“Used is such a strong term,” Graves chides. “And really, I didn’t. You’re overreacting sweetness. This has nothing to do with you.”

“It has everything!”

You can hear his eye roll through the phone. “Would you just trust me on this?”

“Are you being serious? No! I’m never making that mistake again.” Graves didn’t wear disguises. You should’ve seen right through him. You knew better now. How could you ever have thought to believe him? Someone like him, with only a history of deceiving. You were there when he turned his back on you in Las Almas, at Shepard in the courtroom, and yet you believed him. He was your vice, your flaw, your reason.

He was horrible in so many ways, but you came back every time. You craved him holding you at night, wiping the tears away. The way he’d kiss you when you would meet up, his hands roaming your body— you’d never felt this way.

“(Y/N),” He drawls and you want to fall for it, but you don’t.

“No, I’m done. I’m leaving.”

“Don’t be like this.”

“You gave me a pretty damn good reason to leave. This is on you.”

He chuckles through the phone. “If you’d let me explain, you’d see I’m not such a bad guy.”

You shake your head. “No,” You said firmly. “No, you betrayed me and I betrayed my team.”

What were they going to think of you after this? You weren’t like this, so reckless, engaging with the enemy. No one expected this from you, and you certainly didn’t expect it from yourself, to fall so hard. But you weren’t going down without a fight.

You bounce back like you always did. “This is the last call we’re having, Graves.” You practically spit his name out and he’s hurt when you hang up. You were always so stubborn with him. So quick to dismiss his reasons, like you’re looking for a reason to hate him. Whatever, you’ll come back. You’ll see he did this for you. He was not a bad guy, he was carrying out the plan you wanted. It just happened he had to screw over a couple people for it. He just didn’t expect you to get so worked up over it.

You dial the next person, heart thundering.

“(Y/N)?” A voice calls out, familiar to you and you hope they won’t hate you. That was the last thing you needed right now. You lost Johnny, and now you lost Graves (it’s a good thing you tell yourself, but your heart says otherwise), you couldn’t lose your team too.

“Kyle, I,” You swallow, tears clouding your vision when you realize what you’ve done. “I fucked up.”

– END –

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dayabelle · 20 hours ago

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His Beautiful Little Secret

Shota Aizawa x Fem! Reader

---

The classroom was unusually quiet, save for the faint sound of scribbling and occasional shuffling as the students awaited Shota Aizawa’s next move. He stood at the front of the room, arms crossed, his usual tired demeanor on full display. But today, there was a noticeable tension in the air. Aizawa had something to say.

“Listen up,” he started, his voice cool but laced with a hint of frustration. “Because of your behavior last week—yes, I’m talking about the party you threw behind my back—you will now be taking on a new responsibility.”

The class shifted uncomfortably. Bakugo scowled, clearly displeased about being reminded of the chaos that had unfolded the previous weekend. Kirishima and Kaminari exchanged nervous glances, unsure of what was coming.

Aizawa paused, allowing the silence to stretch, before revealing the inevitable.

“From now until Sunday evening, you’re all babysitting Miss L/n's daughter for the weekend,” he declared, his voice firm, making it clear that there would be no debate.

The students collectively froze. Miss L/n's daughter? The one with the wild energy, the unnerving raspy voice, and the mischievous grin that seemed to promise endless trouble? No one was prepared for this.

Before anyone could speak, the class erupted.

“No way!” shouted Bakugo, his voice laced with panic. “I’m not babysitting some little demon!”

“Are you serious?” Midoriya stammered, his face pale as he tried to process the situation. “She’s always getting into trouble!”

Aizawa gave them all a pointed look. “You’re all responsible now. She causes trouble, you deal with it. Understand?”

The class’s groans filled the room, but Aizawa continued, unshaken. “You’ll be watching her at all times. And if anything goes wrong—if she gets into trouble—you’ll be the ones to answer for it.”

Todoroki, ever the voice of reason, glanced at Iida, who was already looking somewhat horrified at the prospect. “We… we’re supposed to handle a weekend with her?” Todoroki asked, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

“Yes,” Aizawa replied simply. “I’ll leave you to it.” He turned to head out of the classroom, adding one last thing over his shoulder. “And don’t even think about throwing another party. If I hear one peep about it, I’ll be taking the entire class’s weekend away.”

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving the students in stunned silence. The weight of their predicament settled in. They had barely survived the last party, and now they were supposed to survive a weekend with her.

“Well, at least she can’t cause more chaos than you guys did last time, right?” Sero joked weakly, but the uneasy chuckles that followed told a different story.

“We’re screwed,” Bakugo muttered, already plotting how to survive the ordeal. “This is gonna be a nightmare.”

And as if on cue, a mischievous little voice echoed from the doorway.

“Did I hear my name?” L/n's daughter, the little bundle of trouble herself, appeared with a grin that was anything but innocent.

The class groaned in unison. The true chaos was just about to begin.

---

Friday Evening – The Chaos Begins

It all started innocently enough. Kishio arrived with a big smile, her tiny hands clutching a stuffed bunny as she bounced into the room, clearly excited. Her big, mischievous eyes scanned the students, already sizing them up as potential partners in crime.

"Hi, everyone!" she chirped in her raspy, high-pitched voice. "Let’s play!"

The students stared, unsure of how to handle this. She was small, she was cute, and she seemed harmless. That was their first mistake.

Within the first 15 minutes, she had already found the box of art supplies. No one had even noticed until they heard the unmistakable sound of crayons tearing across paper. The next thing they knew, Kishio was standing on a table, using the markers like they were paintbrushes, scribbling all over the walls, the windows, and the furniture.

"No! No!" screamed Kaminari as he tried to get to her, but it was already too late. Kishio had already started making “masterpieces” on every surface she could reach. The walls were now a kaleidoscope of neon green, purple, and red.

“I made it pretty!” Kishio giggled, spinning around as the students looked at the damage, horror written all over their faces. But they weren’t prepared for what happened next.

Friday Evening – Destruction at Every Turn

The moment Kishio arrived, the trouble just kept coming. Her infectious enthusiasm spread like wildfire, and it wasn’t long before she found the perfect playthings: the students themselves. She immediately spotted an open bag of chips on the table and, with no hesitation, grabbed it and began crushing it with her tiny hands, sending crumbs everywhere.

“Look! Snowflakes!” she laughed, tossing a handful of crumbs in the air. They floated around like confetti, landing on everyone.

The class groaned as they tried to clean up, but it only got worse. Kishio then grabbed a remote control from the couch and started pressing buttons at random, changing the TV channels and turning up the volume to max. The resulting sound blasted through the room, causing a scene. Every time someone tried to stop her, she darted away, cackling.

“I’m making magic!” she shouted, convinced her control of the television was some sort of wizardry.

Then, she spotted a pencil and began scribbling on the floor, but instead of writing, she drew big circles, arrows, and zigzags all over the furniture, walls, and even the carpet. She worked quickly, creating a chaotic map of her own “kingdom,” marking territory in a way no one could have predicted.

Saturday Morning - The Breakfast Incident

By morning, the chaos was already in full swing. The students had hoped for a quiet breakfast, but Kishio had other plans. She was perched on top of the refrigerator, watching them as they tried to make pancakes.

"Hey, can I help?" she asked sweetly, though there was something about her tone that made everyone uneasy.

Before anyone could protest, she was already rifling through the pantry, tossing ingredients onto the counter like confetti. Flour exploded everywhere, covering the kitchen in a cloud of white powder. Then, with a grin that would make even Bakugo nervous, she grabbed a carton of eggs and threw one at Kaminari, who had been reaching for the milk. The egg hit him square in the face, and that was the beginning of the food fight that would go on for the next fifteen minutes. Flour, eggs, and pancake batter covered everyone in sight, turning the kitchen into a warzone. Midoriya was too nice to yell at her, but his face was a picture of exhaustion as he tried to clean up the mess.

Meanwhile, Kishio was hanging from the ceiling fan, spinning in circles and giggling. No one was sure how she managed to climb up there, but she was already making herself at home.

But as they took their eyes off her for a split second, she had already managed to grab the box of cereal, open it, and dump the entire contents on the floor.

“Snowstorm!” she giggled, making it rain cereal across the kitchen, even throwing handfuls into the air. Then, with a mischievous grin, she decided to pour an entire jug of milk on top of it, causing it to spread all over the floor like a sticky puddle. She slipped around in it, running and sliding on her stomach like a penguin.

“Look at me, I’m a penguin!” Kishio shouted with joy as she rolled around in her own little milk-and-cereal kingdom.

It was pure chaos. The students scrambled to contain the mess, but they weren’t quick enough. She was already jumping from counter to counter, stepping on the cereal in her socks and leaving footprints across the entire kitchen.

Saturday Late Morning – The Petty Destruction

By now, Kishio’s antics were escalating from messy to destructive. She’d gotten her hands on a paint set earlier in the day, and before anyone could stop her, she’d gone on a spree. The class had tried to sit her down to watch TV, but Kishio was determined to create a masterpiece. She dipped her brush in every color and began painting not just the easel and paper, but everything.

First, the table was painted with streaks of yellow and green. Then she spilled the entire jar of black paint on the carpet and started making handprints on the walls. In her frenzy, she knocked over the paint cup, causing it to spill all over the floor, which she promptly began to run through barefoot.

“Oh no, I’m making footprints!” she squealed, giggling as she left a trail of black across the whole room.

Midoriya tried to stop her, but in the process, she grabbed the jar of red paint and splashed it all over his shirt.

“You look like a tomato!” she yelled, as if it was the most hilarious thing ever.

Saturday Afternoon – The Electrical Disaster

It wasn’t just the art supplies that were at risk—now, Kishio had turned her attention to something far more dangerous. The students were busy cleaning up her previous messes when they suddenly heard a loud bang from another room. They rushed to find Kishio, now holding a hairdryer and trying to plug it into every socket she could find.

“Don’t touch that!” Iida shouted, rushing toward her.

But Kishio was faster. She had already shoved the hairdryer plug into a nearby outlet, causing sparks to fly. The electricity buzzed and crackled before the power went out completely.

“Oops!” Kishio said innocently, looking at the darkened room. "I made fireworks!"

The students scrambled to reset the circuit breakers, but the damage had been done. No one had noticed she’d also been pulling wires out of the wall as she “explored” the house, trying to make everything “sparkly.”

Saturday Afternoon – The Swim Mishap

It didn’t stop there. After the electrical disaster, the class thought it was best to take Kishio outside for some fresh air. But Kishio had other plans. She spotted the garden hose near the back of the house, and before anyone could react, she turned it on full blast and began spraying water everywhere—on the flowers, on the students, on the house, and even on the roof.

"Waterfight!" Kishio squealed, laughing maniacally as she soaked everyone. The students scattered, but she chased them around the yard with the hose, trying to get them drenched.

But she wasn’t finished. Seeing the pool in the distance, Kishio darted toward it. She climbed onto the edge, fully clothed, and jumped into the pool with no warning. The students rushed to stop her, but it was too late—Kishio was already happily splashing around.

“I’m a fish! I’m a fish!” she shouted, splashing water out of the pool, getting it all over the patio and inside the house through the open door.

Saturday Afternoon – The Great Escape

With breakfast barely cleaned up, the students tried to distract Kishio by taking her outside, hoping some fresh air would do the trick. But Kishio was far more interested in adventure than playing nice.

She spotted the nearby playground and bolted for it, running so fast the students barely had time to react. Before anyone could stop her, she had scaled the jungle gym, perched at the very top, and was now jumping off the highest platform with reckless abandon.

“No! Kishio, don’t!” screamed Midoriya, but it was too late. Kishio had already leapt from the top, landing in a roll on the grass with the agility of a little acrobat.

Kishio popped up with a grin. “I’m fine! That was fun!” she shouted, as the class stared in horror. Iida immediately ran over, trying to stop her from climbing up again, but she darted past him, heading straight for the swings.

“Hey, no!” yelled Kirishima, but Kishio was already pumping herself higher and higher, pushing the swing higher than it should go. The chains creaked with the strain, and for a moment, it seemed like she was about to fly off the swing entirely.

Finally, Todoroki used his ice to create a barrier around the swing to keep her from going any higher. “That’s enough for today,” he said, trying to sound calm but clearly rattled.

But Kishio was not ready to give up just yet. She darted toward the slide next, running so fast that she didn’t stop to see the massive mud puddle at the bottom. The next thing they knew, she was sliding down the muddy incline, spraying dirt and water everywhere.

“Oh no!” shouted Midoriya, but Kishio was already laughing and splashing in the mud. “This is the best day ever!”

Saturday Afternoon - The Dangerous Antics

The class managed to corral Kishio into the backyard to give them a break from the mayhem inside, but that was a mistake. It didn’t take long for her to find a stash of old training equipment—an assortment of weighted vests, balance beams, and gymnastic ropes.

With a devilish grin, she slipped into one of the vests, but not without first activating the training devices in the corner. The balance beam tilted and rocked dangerously as Kishio ran across it, doing flips and somersaults. She then leaped onto a swing set, taking it as high as it would go before she jumped off, soaring through the air and landing in a pile of mud. The splash sent mud everywhere, and she rolled in it, laughing maniacally as she hurled clumps of it at the students who had foolishly followed her outside.

“That was fun!” she yelled, covered from head to toe in mud. “Who’s next?”

Todoroki and Iida had to rush in to stop her from climbing the neighboring tree, where she was already eyeing a precarious branch that looked like it would snap under her weight.

"She’s... insane," Iida muttered, eyes wide with fear.

“More like a ticking time bomb,” Todoroki said, his usual calm demeanor faltering.

Saturday Evening – The "Bath Time" Battle

After the disaster of the playground, the students tried to get Kishio to clean up for dinner. What followed was a series of events that no one could have anticipated.

“Bath time!” Aizawa had said over the phone. “Make sure she gets cleaned up before bed.”

The students had no idea how challenging that would be. Kishio, covered in mud and syrup, was entirely against the idea of bathing. She ran from the bathroom, dodging every student who tried to catch her. "No, no! I don’t wanna!” she screamed as she zig-zagged through the dorms.

Kaminari and Kirishima tried to corner her, but Kishio slipped under them, darting into the kitchen where she immediately climbed into a cupboard, making it clear she was never going to comply.

"I’m never going to get clean," she said, as she emerged from her hiding spot holding a pan and laughing.

The students finally corralled her into the bathroom, but only after she managed to empty all of the shampoos into the sink, flooding the bathroom. As they managed to get her into the tub, she splashed water everywhere, leaving the floor soaked and the walls dripping.

By the time she was finally clean and in bed, the students were exhausted, but it wasn’t over yet.

Saturday Evening – The Explosive Paintball Surprise

Later in the evening, after what felt like an eternity of nonstop chaos, the students thought they’d finally secured Kishio inside, hoping to settle her down with some toys. But she had a different idea. She found a paintball gun tucked away in one of the rooms from previous training, and before anyone could stop her, she was blasting paintballs at everything—and everyone.

“BOOM!” she yelled, like a little general on the battlefield, as she fired off shots. The paint splattered all over the walls, the floors, and—more distressingly—on the students themselves.

“STOP!” screamed Bakugo, who had been hit right in the face with a paintball.

But Kishio was too quick. She ran circles around the room, hitting every student she could. By the time they managed to disarm her, the entire room looked like a Jackson Pollock painting.

Saturday Evening - The Fireworks Fiasco

Things took an even more dangerous turn as night fell. The students, exhausted and half covered in mud, thought they might have a peaceful evening. But no. Kishio had found a box of unused fireworks in one of the storage rooms—left behind from a previous school event—and she was already scheming.

When the students thought she was simply napping, Kishio had snuck out onto the balcony, preparing a full-scale display. She lit the fuse of a firecracker, and it went off with a deafening bang, sending sparks flying everywhere. The students rushed outside just in time to see her sprinting around with a lit Roman candle in one hand, grinning like she was in a warzone.

"Catch me if you can!" she yelled, as if the dangerous fireworks weren’t enough. She raced around the yard, using the Roman candle like a makeshift flamethrower, and the students scrambled to stop her before she set something—or someone—on fire.

Bakugo was the first to tackle her to the ground, his usual fury replaced with desperation. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he growled, trying to wrest the firework from her grasp.

“Come on, it’s just a little fire,” Kishio responded, her voice still cheerful despite the chaos she was causing. “It’ll be fine!”

Sunday Morning – The Ultimate Destruction

By Sunday, the class was almost ready to give up. But Kishio, ever determined to keep the chaos going, had one last stunt in mind. She had been quietly exploring the halls of the dorms, looking for new things to destroy. No one knew where she had gone, until a loud crash was heard from upstairs.

The students rushed to find her, and when they did, they were met with the most horrifying sight yet: Kishio had found Aizawa’s private room. She had knocked over his entire stack of paperwork, which was now scattered across the floor, and had gone through his personal belongings. She was wearing his shoes and had drawn all over his favorite jacket in permanent marker.

“Look, I made it look pretty!” she said innocently, grinning up at them with a big marker stain on her cheek.

The students could only stand there, defeated. It was clear now that the nightmare was almost over. But there was no escaping the aftermath of two full days of Kishio’s relentless mischief. They were left to clean up the wreckage, silently vowing never to take on babysitting duties again.

When Aizawa finally returned to collect Kishio, he found the entire class disheveled, exhausted, and covered in various stains, burns, and bruises. The students were slumped in every corner of the room, too tired to even glare at him.

Kishio, however, had an innocent grin plastered on her face as she bounced up to him, completely unaware of the carnage she had caused. “That was fun! Can we do it again next time?”

Aizawa sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Never. Again. Ever.”

As the sun finally set on Sunday evening, Kishio’s mother, Miss L/n, arrived to collect her daughter. The students were exhausted, frazzled, and traumatized by the weekend of nonstop chaos. She glanced at Aizawa, biting back a smile as she walked past him.

“Thank you all so much for looking after her!” Miss L/n said cheerfully, oblivious to the wreckage.

Kishio stood by her mother, waving goodbye to the class. “Thanks for the fun!” she shouted, her hair still full of paint and syrup, her clothes a patchwork of dirt, food, and marker stains.

The students could barely speak. They just stared at each other in silence, each of them mentally counting the number of things they needed to clean up—rooms, walls, furniture, pets, and memories.

Aizawa, who had been observing from a distance, simply sighed and rubbed his temples. “I’ll never ask them to babysit again.”

As Miss L/n took Kishio’s hand and led her out, the students collapsed into the nearest chairs, silently vowing never to take on a babysitting duty again.

It had been two days of utter destruction, and they were never going through that again.

Meanwhile, what Aizawa and Miss L/n were doing during the weekend:

Friday –

It had been a long week for Aizawa, dealing with his unruly class and the looming threat of more chaos, but Miss L/n's unexpected proposal had come at the perfect time. They’d agreed to meet up after he finished his evening meeting, but it wasn’t just about talking shop. As soon as Aizawa made his way out of the school, he was already looking forward to a brief escape.

He found her car parked on the outskirts of the school grounds. The engine was warm from her quick getaway, and her car door opened with a subtle creak as he approached. She smiled at him from the driver's seat, her gaze playful but knowing. Before he could even speak, she leaned over, brushing her lips against his. It was a quiet, intimate kiss, just enough to make his pulse quicken after a long day.

Aizawa didn’t hesitate. The kiss deepened, both of them caught in the quiet rush of chemistry that always seemed to ignite when they were together. His fingers brushed against her cheek as he slid into the passenger seat, the car’s interior providing an intimate cocoon where time felt suspended. He held her by the back of her neck, which was warm and burning his fingertips. Her hands were entangled in his hair and the air in the car felt stuffy, the sounds of them kissing was muffled. He wanted more,

But it couldn’t last. Aizawa reluctantly pulled away, glancing at his watch. “I have a meeting,” he muttered, his voice rough.

Miss L/n's smile was soft, but her eyes held a spark of understanding. “Just go, Shota. I’ll be here when you’re done.”

She kissed him once more—brief, but all-encompassing—before he reluctantly exited the car. It was a reminder of the passion that existed between them, even amidst the chaos of their professional lives. She watched him quickly jog away, seemingly about to be late. She felt butterflies in her stomach, noting the fact that he didn't mind ignoring his strict rules and pushing to be with her.

Saturday –

Aizawa’s meeting stretched late into the evening, but as he finally made his way back to the school, he knew he needed another escape. And Miss Emma’s room was always the perfect sanctuary.

By the time he entered her dorm, the atmosphere was more relaxed. She was already there, waiting for him with a glass of wine in hand, her expression soft. She didn’t need to say much. They’d both known this was coming after the chaotic day with the students.

Aizawa closed the door quietly behind him and found her standing near the window, her back to him. When she turned around, she didn’t need to say a word. Her eyes spoke volumes, and he couldn’t resist. He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her closer until their lips met once again.

This kiss was different—deeper, more urgent. The tension of the day slipped away as their kiss intensified, and the world outside faded into the background. Miss L/n's hands found their way to his hair, tugging him closer. He responded with a quiet growl of approval, his hands roaming to pull her closer still, the lingering touch sparking something more heated between them. She slanted her head upwards for a better angle, allowing his tounge to relish deeper down her throat. He pulled back with a huff as they both caught their breath. Heaving as she looked up at him, her eyes shining from the outside light and a smile on her face.

“Been thinking about this all day,” Aizawa whispered against her lips, his voice raspy and low.

Her smile was warm, her hands tracing the line of his jaw before she kissed him again, mumbling “m glad u’re here.”

They moved together, the kiss becoming even more consuming, as though they couldn’t get enough. There was no rush. The chaos of the world outside was forgotten in the warmth of her room, where the only thing that mattered was the space they shared. He pushed her slightly to sit on the bed, her back soon hitting the surface with him soon on top of her.

Aizawa’s hands were firm on her back, pulling her closer against him as he lowered her onto the soft bed. The sheets were warm, the room lit only by the faint glow of the evening light that filtered through the curtains. His body was pressing her into the mattress, every inch of him caught in the heat of the moment as their lips met with a growing urgency.

The world outside this room, outside this bed, felt like a distant memory. His lips were gentle at first, savoring the taste of her as her hands slid up his arms, tracing the familiar lines of his body. He could feel her breath quicken, could sense the way her pulse was syncing with his own, each kiss pushing them further into a tangled web of desire.

He shifted slightly, more of his weight being pressed on her, his hand resting at the small of her back, fingers pressing against the soft fabric of her shirt. She was pliant beneath him, responding to every shift and every touch, her mouth opening slightly as he deepened the kiss. She tasted like something sweet—her lips, soft and inviting, urging him to push further, closer.

But then, just as the moment seemed to reach its peak, a knock echoed through the door, sharp and unwelcome.

Aizawa froze, his body tensing at the sound. His lips hovered just a breath away from hers, and his expression hardened, the mood suddenly shattered. They made eye contact before looking towards the door. He gritted his teeth, annoyed. There was no mistaking that whoever was on the other side of that door had just ruined the rare, fleeting moment of peace he'd managed to steal.

The knock came again, louder this time.

Frustration welled up in him, his grip on her back tightening just enough to let her feel the edge of his irritation. He closed his eyes for a moment, forcing himself to calm down, but his mind was already buzzing with annoyance. “Who the hell is that?” he muttered, voice low and growling.

She, equally frustrated, let out a soft sigh. “It’s probably one of the students,” she said, her fingers tracing circles on his chest as she tried to steady herself. She looked at him up and down, she didn't want this moment to end but...

Aizawa groaned in exasperation. "I swear to—" he started, but another knock cut him off.

With a frustrated grunt, he pulled away from her just enough to glance at the door. His eyes narrowed. Whoever it was had no idea what kind of disaster they were causing.

“I’ll deal with this,” he said, his tone dark and annoyed as he rose from the bed. His frustration was palpable, his body rigid with the need to resolve whatever idiotic interruption had come his way.

Miss L/n sat up slowly, still breathing a little heavily, her lips parted as she watched him move toward the door. " Wait, your in my dorm remember?"

As Aizawa stood there, the frustration building in his chest, she, ever the professional, pushed herself up from the bed and stood. Her movements were slow but graceful, and she didn’t need to say a word. She had already recognized the knock, the urgent yet polite tone that suggested one of her students needed assistance.

“I’ll handle this real quick,” she said softly, as she stood and walked toward the door, her eyes briefly catching Aizawa’s. She saw the frustration in his face, the tension that still hung in the air between them, and gave him an apologetic glance. Her lips parted, mouthing a quiet “Sorry” before she turned the handle and opened the door. He admired her from the back, he didn't want to seem like a pervert. But he always wondered what she would look like bent over. Hos gaze burned into her, but she ignored it.

There, standing at the threshold, was a student from Class 1-B—his face uncertain but clearly in need of her help. His posture was respectful, but there was an urgency in his expression that told Y/n all she needed to know.

“Miss L/n,” he began, voice polite yet slightly hesitant. “I’m really sorry to interrupt, but I need your assistance with something important.”

She took a small breath, her gaze flicking back to Aizawa, still standing across the room, his frustration evident in the way he leaned against the wall. She gave him another apologetic glance, mouthing an almost imperceptible “I’ll be right back.” The words were soft, but she could sense Aizawa’s patience wearing thin. Yet, she couldn’t leave a student in need.

With a small nod to Aizawa, she turned back to the student. “What seems to be the problem?” she asked, her voice soft and reassuring. She was already moving to gather her things, ready to leave, but she couldn’t ignore the wave of guilt that rolled over her for leaving him like this.

Aizawa watched her as she spoke with the student. He could see the familiar calm professionalism she exuded, the way she seamlessly slipped into the role of a mentor, but it didn’t stop the bitter edge of annoyance from creeping in. He knew how it always went: the students came first, no matter the time or the circumstances.

He sighed heavily, his hand rubbing his forehead as the moment was slipping away. He could feel the heat of their connection, the pull that had been building between them all weekend, and now, just as they’d begun to get close, it was being pulled from under him like a rug.

And he knew this routine. He had seen it play out many times before, watching her slip into work mode and leave him to wait in the quiet aftermath. Over the course of nearly a year of their occasional encounters, Aizawa had learned to read the situation. He could predict the timing—he knew when to stay in the background, when to leave quietly and unobserved, giving her the space to tend to her responsibilities.

As she stepped away from the door, ready to leave, Aizawa silently made his way back to the bed. He didn’t need to make his presence known—he’d learned to disappear in these moments, knowing that she would always return, and the world would shift again when she was back in the room with him.

He turned his back to the door, running his hands through his hair, the heat of frustration still simmering. But as he sat back down on the bed, his posture relaxed, he couldn’t help but feel the familiar pull of patience take over. He’d wait.

It wasn’t ideal. But it was a part of their unspoken agreement. After all, he knew she’d always return to him, even if it meant sacrificing a few moments for the sake of her students.

And as the sound of her footsteps faded down the hallway, Aizawa took a deep breath and settled in. This wasn’t over—not by a long shot. The night was still young, and when she returned, they’d pick up right where they left off.

Sunday –

After a night of stolen moments and quiet passion, Sunday morning arrived. Aizawa woke to the soft light filtering through the curtains of her room. Her breath was steady, her head resting against his chest, as they lay tangled in sheets. The soft rhythm of her breathing was enough to make him linger, though he had obligations to attend to. But for now, in the silence of the room, everything else felt irrelevant. He traced his fingers along her bare back, replaying every moment of it. This was the first time they had gone this far, the thought of her not officially being his didn't play at the back of his mind right now. He always pictured having sex with her, but he always condoned himself for it.

She stirred awake, stretching and glancing up at him with a content smile. “You’re still here,” she said softly, her hand resting gently on his chest.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Aizawa muttered, his fingers brushing through her hair. The simplicity of the moment was one of peace. The weekend had been chaotic in many ways, especially with the students, but in this room, with her, everything was grounded. He could forget about the world, just for a little longer.

She smiled again, leaning up to kiss him, her lips soft and sweet against his. It was a kiss that held the promise of more—of a connection that went deeper than just the physical.

As they shared that quiet moment, the world outside continued to spin, but for Aizawa and Miss Emma, the weekend had become theirs to own—full of moments of passion, understanding, and something unspoken but undeniable.

---

The weekend had come again, and this time, the chaos of babysitting Miss L/n’s daughter, Kishio, was somewhat lessened. Kishio had been absorbed in playing with Eri, the two girls giggling and running around the common room, leaving Aizawa and Miss L/n to slip away from the noise without raising suspicion. Mirio was watching them.

Aizawa had been watching the girls for a while, his usual stern expression softened as he observed them. Though he didn’t show it, the warmth of the moment—the quiet bonding between Eri and Kishio—made him feel a rare sense of peace. It was fleeting, but it was there. And as much as he wanted to remain in the background, he could feel the pull of Miss L/n's presence in the hall.

She had been teasing him with subtle glances all afternoon—nothing overt, just a soft, knowing look whenever their eyes met across the room. Aizawa felt the familiar tug at the edge of his patience. The day was too quiet, too easy, and he knew it wouldn’t last. But for now, it gave him a chance to slip away.

His footsteps were quiet on the wooden floors as he moved toward the hallway. His mind wasn’t on the girls, or on the noise coming from the living room, or even the responsibilities of teaching. It was on Miss L/n. The only person who seemed to have the ability to pull him from his thoughts, to make him forget the pressures of his life. The only person who seemed to make him feel… human again.

He paused at the door to her room, glancing over his shoulder just to make sure the girls were still engrossed in their playtime. Eri’s laughter rang out in the distance, a comforting sound that told him he could steal away for a few moments. The world outside this room felt like a distant memory. What he didn't see was a very confused and skeptical Bakugo Katsuki standing at the elevator door searching for her to ask her a question. He stopped in his tracks, watching as Aizawa reached for the door handle, taking a deep breath before gently pushing it open. He stepped inside, the room bathed in a soft, dim light that immediately brought a sense of calm. The door clicked shut behind him as he let the tension slip from his shoulders.

Miss L/n was standing by the window, looking out at the darkening sky. Her silhouette framed in the light, she turned slightly as she heard him enter, offering him a soft smile. There was a warmth in her gaze, a quiet affection that tugged at him. She didn’t need to say anything; her smile was enough. She knew why he was here.

“I thought you might show up,” she said, her voice light, though there was a hint of something deeper beneath her words. She wasn’t teasing—just knowing.

Aizawa didn’t respond right away. Instead, he moved toward her, his eyes never leaving hers. He stood a few feet away, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. He didn’t have to say anything, not yet. The tension was palpable between them, both of them silently acknowledging the space they shared, the unspoken connection that had built over the past months.

It was Miss L/n who broke the silence. She took a small step forward, her fingers reaching out to trace a line along his arm. The simple touch sent a shiver through Aizawa, the sensation of her skin against his only amplifying the growing desire that had been simmering beneath his calm exterior.

Her fingers lingered for a moment, but she didn’t pull away. She looked up at him, her eyes searching his, almost as if she were asking for permission. It was something Aizawa had come to recognize—her silent understanding of his need for space, his unwillingness to rush things. She would never push him, and that was part of what made being with her so different from everything else.

Aizawa closed the distance between them, his hand coming up to gently cup her face. The contact was gentle at first, his thumb grazing her cheek as he studied her expression. He wasn’t in a hurry. Not now. Not with her. He just needed this moment of calm, of quiet intimacy.

“I don’t know how you do it,” he murmured, his voice rough, the edges of his usual stoicism slipping. “How you make everything else disappear when I’m with you.”

L/n smiled softly, her hand resting over his, guiding it to the back of her neck. “You don’t have to say anything,” she replied, her voice steady, but there was an underlying warmth in her words that seemed to melt whatever walls Aizawa still had up. “I understand.”

And she did. She always did.

Without another word, Aizawa leaned down, his lips brushing against hers in a slow, tender kiss. The kind of kiss that didn’t rush. It was everything that Aizawa wasn’t—a slow, gentle release, a moment where he didn’t have to be anyone other than the man who needed her.

Her arms slid around his neck, pulling him closer as she deepened the kiss. Her lips were warm and soft against his, sending a wave of desire through him. His hands, now free from his pockets, slid around her waist, drawing her closer still. For the briefest of moments, Aizawa allowed himself to get lost in the kiss, in the way she made him feel.

He pulled away just enough to breathe, his forehead resting against hers. The moment was quiet, suspended in time. Outside, the sounds of Kishio and Eri’s laughter were distant, but they were a reminder that, even here, they had to be careful. Their time together was always brief, always stolen from the chaos of the world. But that didn’t make it any less real.

“I shouldn’t stay too long,” Aizawa murmured, his voice low and full of quiet regret. But even as he spoke, he didn’t move. The tension between them still hung thick in the air, and for a moment, it felt like neither of them wanted to break it.

Miss L/n leaned back slightly, her hands running through his hair, fingers gently tugging at the strands as she met his eyes. “It’s okay,” she whispered, her smile soft. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

Aizawa’s lips curled into a small, rare smile. He didn’t speak, just leaned in to kiss her once more, this time with a hint of urgency, but still held with that gentleness only she could elicit from him.

---

#bnha #aizawa x reader #mha #mha x reader #shota aizawa x reader #eraserhead x reader

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tonyfavgirl · 1 year ago

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We don't talk about Marcus Volturi's power enough

I just saw a comment on TikTok about how Marcus has the most "trash gift" in Twilight, and, okay, everyone has their own opinion, but I am absolutely outraged. Like, omg, how do people not see how useful his gift is?

Man, Aro reads people's minds, so he sees people like they see themselves. Marcus, on the other hand, sees the bonds between people, which allows him to understand how individuals are truly connected to the world, often beyond their own comprehension. He can literally use his gift for manipulation, espionage, breaking people, dismantling covens, and so much more that it isn't even funny.

Aro wanted to keep him in the Volturi by any means possible, even by killing Marcus' beloved wife—Aro's own sister, who also had a gift. Just with this information, we can already see exactly how much power this man has at his fingertips.

Considering that in the book canon, Marcus is only 19 years old when he becomes a vampire, it's quite possible that older vampires who were transformed at a more "mature" age might have initially ignored him while the Volturi were ascending to power. Age often commands respect among vampires, and being a teenager technically, Marcus may have been dismissed as non-threatening in the beginning (maybe even later).

However, when you analyze the power dynamics within the Volturi coven, it becomes clear that Marcus played a crucial role.

Marcus likely served as a sentinel, watching over the coven and ensuring there were no leaks or betrayals. This is especially significant because Chelsea, who could manipulate these bonds, was born much later, after the Volturi were already very powerful.

E. G. Marcus undoubtedly identified potential traitors before they even realized they were inclined to betray the Volturi, making him an essential pillar in the construction of their power and ensuring their continued existence as the ruling coven throughout the centuries.

#the truth is that I could continue writing about this all day #but I think this is enough to at least hint at my point #if I was the one with a gift powerful like that omg #the volturi #twilight #marcus volturi #aro volturi #volturi coven #volturi kings #chelsea #character analysis #twilight saga #vampires #vampire gifts #twilight renaissance

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puppyeared · 6 months ago

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i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

#im reading that post that says artists are directors of audience reaction and not its dictator:#'you cannot guarantee that everyone viewing your work will react as you are trying t make them react. a good artist knows that this is what #allows work to breath. by definition you cannot have art where the viewer brings nothing to the table ... this is why you have to let go of #the urge to plainly state in text exactly how you think the work should be interpreted ... its better to be misinterpreted sometimes than #to talk down to your audience. you wont even gain any control that way; people will still develop their opinions no matter what you do #im thinking abt this again cuz i was thinking maybe the thing that lets adventure time work so well the way it does is cuz it doesnt #take itself too seriously that it gives the audience enough room to fuck with subtext and then fuck with them back yknow. i think it was #mentioned somewhere that they werent even planning to run with the postapocalyptic elements that are hinted in the show but changed their #mind after the one off with the frozen businessmen and dominoed into marcy and simons backstory. on the other side there are stories that #explain too much to let the story speak for itself and i think it ends up having to do more with the crew trying to lead ppl in a certain #direction than expand on what they have and i see a lot of this with miraculous. like when interviews and tweets are used as word of god in #arguments and it becomes a little stifling to play around with it knowing the creator can just interject. u can say its the crews effort to #engage with its audience but it feels more like micromanaging. and none of this is to say there ISNT room for stories that spell things out #theyre just suited for different things. if sesame street tried abstract approaches to themes and nuance itd be counterproductive #a lot of things fly over my head so i need help picking things apart to get it- but it doesnt have to be from the story itself. ive picked #picked up or built on my own interpretations listening to other ppl share their thoughts which creates conversation around the same thing #sometimes stories will spell things out for you without being so obvious abt it that it feels like its woven into the text. my fav example #for this might be ATLA using younger characters as its main cast but instead of feeling like its dumbed down for kids to understand why war #is bad its framed from a childs point of view so younger audiences can pick up on it by relating to the characters. maybe an 8 year old #wont get how geopolitics works but at least they get 'hey the world is a little more complicated than everyone vs. fire nation'. same for #steven universe bc its like theyre trying to describe and put feelings into words that kids might not have so they have smth to start with #especially with the metaphors around relationships bc even if it looks unfamiliar as a kid now maybe the hope is for it to be smth you can #look back to. thats why it feels like these shows grew up with me.. instead of saving difficult topics for 'when im ready for it'#as if its preparing me for high school it gave me smth to turn in my hands and revisit again and again as i grow. stories that never #treated u as dumb all along. just someone who could learn and come back to it as many times as u need to. i loved SU for the longest time #but i felt guilty for enjoying it hearing the way ppl bash it. bc i was a kid and thought other ppl understood it better than me and made #feel bad for leaning into the message of paying forward kindness and not questioning why steven didnt punish the diamonds or hold them #accountable. but im rewatching it now and going oh. i still love this show and what it was trying to teach me #yapping #diary

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pandoratheprocrasticreator · 2 years ago

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not to be a smug asshole but its kind of rich how if you say you dont like a thing on the internet everyone who likes that thing automatically assumes you just “don’t get it” and tries to explain to you why the thing is Good, Actually. like maybe i already understand why people like the thing. maybe i have reasons to not like the thing that YOU are refusing to entertain. maybe i used to like the thing because of the specific reasons that you’re writing essays to me about. but then i realized that the thing sucks shit and the reasons why people like it isn’t enough to make it good for me again. maybe my dislike of the thing isn’t because im a stupid idiot who couldn’t put two thoughts together to realize why the thing is good. and maybe i feel belittled and dare i say offended when 12 people condescendingly explain to me why it’s okay that i don’t like the thing, but also refuse to stop explaining the same 2 reasons why THEY like the thing, or even let me defend why i dislike the thing, until i agree with them that the thing is good. all because i dared to express mild disdain on the internet

#shut up pandora #i don't care if people like things i dislike and tell me so but some of yall act like proselytizing christians about it #a while ago i had someone write an essay on a post talking about why a ship i dont like is totally canon guys theyre totally in love #and the ship in questions has not had any conversations in 10 episodes which was why i disliked it #but the argument for it boiled down to 'why does this ship between two main characters HAVE to have any significant onscreen development'#'why cant we just build up this ship based on longing looks like the TJLC ppl. its impossible for you to think thats bad writing'#anyway we ended up dming and i tried to clarify that i dont think its well written to build up a relationship on 'subtle glances'#without having them actually interact with each other. at least not a heavily focused on endgame couple involving main characters #at the end of the very frustrating conversation where they just repeated the 'subtle hints' thing over and over again condescendingly #it turns out they thought i agreed to the conversation bc i wanted them to convince me to like the ship!#so they literally didn't listen to anything i said except to hashtag destroy my points with hashtag facts and hashtag logic #and like. you think i haven't looked at all the 'subtle hints' before this conversation? this is a popular ship and i want to like it!#but i looked at it and thought about it and decided i didn't like it! i even said so on the original post!#the point of the post was 'i dont think having the ship longingly gaze at each other counts as a well written ship if they dont ever talk'#and their 'rebuttal' was 'youre wrong it IS well written! why? well because they longingly gaze at each other'#anyway i was just feeling annoyed about that again #also that time an mlb fan sent me a wholeass wordpress essay on why mlb is Good Actually #after i explained i understand why people like it. i was a fan actually! i just both grew out of it and realized the writing is really bad #so bad in fact that the reasons i liked it werent enough to redeem the show for me and it keeps getting worse #anyway yes im vagueposting about people but messaging strangers to restart a months old argument is more deranged i think #i hope the people who condescendingly hop on a strangers posts to write them essays on why they Dont Get It Actually #uhhhhhhhhhhhhh maybe stop that!

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evie-sturns · 14 days ago

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avoid - Matt Sturniolo

summary: when matt calls you out on you pushing him away, until a huge fight breaks out between the two of you. a couple hours later you find him a mess, you have no choice but to make things right.

contains: angst, crying, arguing, yelling, fluff, comforting, swearing.

------------------------------------------------------------

you didn't realise you were doing it, you just were.

you had accidentally been avoiding him and pushing him away for the past couple of weeks, there wasn't a specific reason but you just were.

9:04pm

i'm laying on the couch alone, watching some random romcom as i stare at the screen.

the floorboards creak as i hear matt coming down the hallway, his footsteps are heavy as he approaches the living room.

he stands in the doorway, just observing me for a couple of seconds.

i hear his lips part as he gets ready to speak.

"y/n..?" he mutters softly, his voice is weak and shy.

i hum quietly as a response, not even diverting my gaze away from the bright screen. i hear matt huff slightly, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

"what- why- can you at least look at me when im speaking?" matt scoffs.

"what difference does it make?" i mumble back, still staring at the television.

"makes me think you might actually give a shit about me still." matt spits, his arms fold over his chest as he leans against the doorway,

"pfft." i dismiss him which only sets matt off even more.

"why are you acting like this? seriously!" matt exclaims,

"why are you being so sensitive." i groan,

i know i’m being annoying as shit, but i can’t help it, i’m just doing what i can to tick him off.

matt just stares at me, his breathing heavy as i see him visibly start fuming.

“you wanna know what it is? you’ve been acting like a total stranger for the past couple months and i’m done with it, i’m done with you.” matt raises his voice

i stand up off the couch, standing a couple feet away from matt as i lock eyes with him,

“me? i’ve been acting like i stranger?” i laugh dryly, not cause this situation is amusing, i’m just in shock.

“yes! you’ve been treating me like crap for the past too long!” matt keeps his voice raises,

i point my finger at his chest as i walk closer to him, “you cannot be serious? i literally do everything for you? i gave up so many things for more time with you!”

“i didn’t ASK you to do that! nobody did!” he scoffs loudly, grabbing my wrist and yanking it away from his chest.

“so it meant nothing to you? clearly you’re not appreciating my love for y-“

matt cuts me off,

“don’t even. you’re trying to make me feel bad when i’m literally trying to talk to you about my feelings!”

his eyes are narrow slits now, his fingers wrapped tightly around my wrist.

“let me go, now.” i mutter angrily,

“just listen to me!” he spits, moving his hand off of my wrist to grab my shoulders,

he jolts me back and forth harshly,

“i fucking hate this new attitude of yours, you’re the most self centred bitch ever!” matt shouts,

his voice booms through my living room, making my heart race quicken.

“would you just shut up- shut up!” i scream,

matt shoves me back gently, not enough to actually hurt me, just enough to get his point enough.

“you’re just- you’re just being ridiculous?” matt mutters, turning on his heels and walking away from me.

“i fucking hate you! i hope you get that through your thick head!” i snap

i didn’t mean it.

not at all.

i was so angry, just doing anything i could to be mean.

i hear matt’s heavy footsteps as he walks up the stairs, followed by the door slamming shut.

i flop down on the couch, running a hand through my hair as i pant.

i don’t know why i said any of that.

(35 minutes later)

i’ve just been thinking for the past half hour, about things i shouldn’t have said, things i shouldn’t of done.

i’ve held back all my emotions, feeling somewhat numb, except for the intense feeling of guilt gnawing away at me

the whole house has been eerily silent, usually it would be filled with matt and i’s endless giggles, but it’s not.

i stand up off the couch, my legs somewhat wobbly and my stomach churning with immense guilt.

i need to talk to him,

i drag my feet over to the bottom of the stairwell, knowing matt’s at the top of the stairs, locked away in our bedroom.

one step,

after another,

i slowly walk up the stairs.

my heart pounds against my rib cage, not knowing what matt would say, nor think, when he saw me in the doorway,

the same person that just screamed at him, making him believe that i hated him.

i reach his door, my hand stalling on the doorknob as i let out a soft sigh.

i couldn’t bring myself to just twist the doorknob, my hand was lightly shaking.

i swallow harshly before twisting the knob,

i stand in the doorway, looking around the dimly lit room.

there’s a discomforting feeling in the air, the room is cold.

my eyes search around the room until they land on matt.

he’s laying down on the bed, his back facing me and his still.

is he asleep?

“matt..?” i call out quietly, my voice breaking.

i walk over to the bed, my footsteps light.

suddenly i hear him,

a choked sob escapes him.

he’s crying?

i made him cry,

matt’s never cried infront of me before

and i’m the reason he now has.

“baby- are you crying-?” i whisper, reaching down and brushing his hair away from his eyes. he shivers at my touch, rolling over so his face is buried in the pillow.

i quickly crawl into bed beside him.

“please- please don’t cry-“ i mutter, my tone is panicked as i reach for him.

i sit up against the headboard as he stays buried in the pillows beside me, letting out strangled sobs.

“please look at me- darling i am so sorry, seriously.” i speak softly, my voice just loud enough so it’s audible to him

“matt, look at me please.” i say, my tone shaky as my voice cracks again.

he gently lifts his face from the pillows,

i take the opportunity to grab him, and tug him to sit up beside me.

i run my hands through his messy hair, he looks like a wreck, i feel terrible.

his eyes are swollen, his lips are a deep red and puffy and tears roll down his pale cheeks.

i grab his hands, “matt,” i sigh, “y-you’re killing me.”

matt stares down at the bed, “can- can i have a hug?” he whispers with a small hiccup.

“of course you can have a hug.” i sigh, wrapping my arms around him and pulling his body flush against mine.

i hold him close to me as i lay down on the bed, his head buried in my chest.

he sniffs shakily as he just cries, letting everything out.

i can still feel the undeniable tension in the air,

we’re both so angry at eachother still, it’s hard not to be after argument like that.

“hey, it’ll be okay- we’ll be okay.” i whisper, running my fingers through his locks of hair.

he lets out another sob against me, the noise making my heart break.

“you’re gonna make me cry.” i whisper with a small sigh, holding the back of his head gently.

“sorry.” he sniffles.

i hold him in my arms, whispering small words of affirmation while matt slowly starts to calm down.

i fight back the tears in my eyes as i attempt to stay strong for him.

“could we- talk maybe?” matt sniffs, wiping his eyes on my shirt before slowly lifting himself away from me.

he sits up on the headboard beside me, his legs outstretched and his hands still gently shaking.

“i think we need to.” i nod,

we both sit in silence for a second, waiting for one person to start.

“i know i was-“ i start but matt interrupts me,

“can i go first- i just want to tell you… how i’ve been feeling.” he rambles, his voice cracking.

i nod, “yeah..”

matt starts,

“i mean it when i say you’ve been stupidly distant for the past months, everytime i try to initiate anything with you, i just get brushed off, all of our conversations are shallow and i can’t tell if you actually care about me anymore!”

i stare at him as he rambles, trying to take all of his words to heart without getting mad again.

“i love you so much, and it’s hurting me to see you slowly drift away from me, i just want to know what i did wrong..?” he follows on, swallowing harshly,

i nod slightly, my lips parting to speak but no words coming out.

“i’m not trying to push you away matt.” i whisper,

he goes to speak but i interrupt, “i think it’s just a mix of everything, i’m just so exhausted with work after half my coworkers quit, i’ve been working long hours and i don’t mean to push you away, i swear.” i ramble on,

matt nods slightly with understanding, his hands fidgeting in his lap.

“i love you so much matt, and i’m trying to do better, i promise.” i finish,

matt just looks at me, before finally nodding.

he lets out a breath, one that i can tell took a weight off his shoulders.

“i’m sorry about the argument.” matt says,

i shake my head, “no i was being a pain on purpose, it could’ve been avoided if i acted differently.”

“i came at you with like a confronting tone- i should’ve approached it better.” he speaks,

“and i also shouldn’t have laid my hands on you, i didn’t mean for it to ever get physical..” matt whispers, his eyebrows furrowing as he breaks eye contact with me,

“it’s okay, i needed it-“ i try to defend his actions but he cuts me off,

“no- no that was a shitty thing for me to do, i feel super guilty about it.” he sighs,

the room goes silent, my heart aches as i try to apologise for that one thing i said, the 3 words that exited my mouth, which is now eating me alive.

“i’m sorry- for saying i hate you.. i- i don’t i swear, it wasn’t true at all i was just saying it to make you mad- i promise, i love you more than life itself.” i spit it out.

matt’s gaze softens,

my eyes well up with tears, “i shouldn’t have said that, i’m so sorry-“ i whisper out,

matt reaches his hands up to my face, his hands caressing my cheeks and his thumbs wipe my eyes quickly.

“no tears.” he gently coos,

“i’m so sorry- i fucked up so bad-“ i continue, but matt cuts me off.

he presses his lips to mine, his hands still firmly on the sides of my face.

he rolls us over so he’s ontop of me, keeping our lips connected.

i kiss back, distracting myself from the swirling thoughts in my head.

after a few moments he pulls away from my lips with a small ‘pop’.

a warm smile appears on his face as he peppers kisses all over my face.

i squirm with a giggle as his pecks kisses all over me, before pressing a final peck to my lips.

“we’ll always talk things out next time, i promise this won’t happen again.” he whispers comfortingly, his hands gently running through my hair.

i nod in agreement, “i love you.”

“love you too sweetie.” he whispers, before going back to peppering kisses all over my face.

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#sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fanfic

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suiana · 3 months ago

Text

(yandere! vampire groom x gn! reader)

He just wanted you forever. Was that too much to ask for?

"I don't understand why you're being difficult. I thought you loved me."

You were a human, he was a vampire. You were destined to live a much shorter life than he is. In fact, he's already lived way longer than you have. 500 years without you. 500 years without having a meaning in life.

And now he's found you.

How could you be so cruel to deny both you and him eternal happiness? To take away the very reason he's willing to live?

"Why would you resist heaven's grasp? This is our fate, to be forever together. You know it."

His sharp nails grip your arms, eyes narrowing at you as he tries to convince you into seeing his point of view. He really just wants to shake you until you give in, but he probably will achieve the opposite if he does so.

"Come on, a human life is pathetic. You can barely live a hundred years. I am not seeing my spouse wither away in front of my eyes."

Your vampire groom's tone turns desperate as he grips the sleeves of your wedding outfit. You look absolutely beautiful, he thinks. All dressed up like the angel you are.

You'll look even more beautiful when you're turned.

"Why are you so hesitant to be a vampire? Surely being human is not that important to you."

But it is. He knows that. You've told him multiple times already. That you don't want to live forever, to see all your friends and family die in front of your eyes.

His eyes narrow slightly as you remain silent. He leans in even closer, face stern as if challenging you to speak back.

"Come on, is being human more important than being with me?"

"I- and if I say yes?"

The vampire's jaw locks at your answer as his grip on your upper arms tighten ever so painfully. Wrong answer. He didn't like that response of yours at all.

"You'd let me watch you die? You're cruel, you know that?"

He spits in your face as he pushes you against fhe church pew. The candles around you burn bright, their wax dripping to the cold floor of the church.

If you squint hard enough, you'd see a hint of fear in his cold eyes. Fear of losing you. Fear of you dying . Fear of you being ripped away from his embrace.

"But you should respect my choice-"

"And watch you die?! When it could all be prevented?!"

His voice is shrill, eyes widening in a mixture of anger. You wonder if you've ever seen him like this before. Seen him this angry and fearful, or this desperate and annoyed. He's always put you before him. Never asked you for anything but your love.

"Come on my love... You're not seriously dead set on staying human, are you? You'd be so beautiful as a vampire too. I'd let you drink from me and we'd be together forever!"

His grip on your arms grows tight before he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck. You remain silent, unmoving, rooted in your place. You didn't want to say anything. You know anthing you say will only anger him further anyway. He's so dead-set on turning you.

You'll reject him every step of the way though.

"I said no... Can't you just-"

"No. You're being selfish."

His words cause you to pause and think. You? Selfish? Well...

"Can't I have at least one thing? I deserve it. I deserve you."

You feel his lips touch the softness of your skin, his teeth threatening to pierce you. Instinctively, you try to push him away. No way! Was he actually trying to turn you into a vampire right now?

Your beloved groom merely holds your wrists down before nipping at your neck. Wait wait wait! Just hold on a moment-

"If you can't see it on your own... It is my duty to help you see it."

You lock eyes with your vampire groom, blood running cold as he slips a ring onto your finger.

"After all, I belong to you now, as you belong to me. In life and in death."

You feel a surging pain in your body as his teeth sink into your flesh. It's not like the bites he uses when he feeds, no. This time, it's clear he's doing it to lock you with him for eternity. To keep you with him.

"I am your husband now, my love."

Yours, forever and now.

Just like you are his, forever and now.

#yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere concepts #yandere vampire groom #yandere vampire groom x reader #gn reader #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

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crushmeeren · 3 months ago

Note

any thoughts about how touya would eat you out? i cannot stop thinking about his tongue piercing..

Nor can I, friend, nor can I. /ᐠ - ˕ -マ

Master List Link

⋆｡ﾟ ☁︎｡ ⋆ FEM READER ｡ﾟ ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ｡

Touya is very…. talented when it comes to eating pussy, to say the least.

He’s had a lot of time to kill over the years. Seeing as how nobody knew he was alive after he essentially became his Father’s human sacrifice to whatever deity he believed would grant his delusional dreams of having a child with the perfect quirk to surpass the number one hero.

But he digresses…..

Needless to say, Touya has had a lot of sex. Men and women alike, but he’d confess that he just gets this….thrill, eating pussy. Women are always, without exception, so soft, so fucking warm, and his cock never fails to fill out thickly when he so much as pictures the sweet, high pitched whines he coaxes from them.

And so, it’s really no different now that he’s dating you. He can come to you whenever he craves it, whenever his mouth starts to fill with saliva when he daydreams about eating you out.

Currently, Touya’s got your ass at the edge of, what used to be, a gaming chair. It’s comfortable enough, and Touya likes it when you gawk at him while he flicks his tongue against your clit in a way that you can feel in your fucking toes.

He pushes your thighs as wide as they can go, until your muscles burn, and his searing tongue parts your lips with a few upward dragging motions. Heat blisters up your spine.

“Touya!” Your voice pitches higher, and his name gets caught in your throat when the flat of his tongue creeps up along your clit, the barest hint of that metallic ball of jewelry kissing your skin before he leans back.

“What baby?” He coos condescendingly, pretty blue eyes halfway shut as he peers up at you from where he sits on his knees on the floor. He’s naked too, and he looks so hot you can’t stand it. “My ring feels so good on your pussy, yeah? You want me to heat it up?” His voice is an insufferable amount of husky and you clench around nothing. You nod eagerly.

“Then fucking say it, whore,” he snarls, palms heating dangerously on your inner thighs.

You lace your fingers through his snowy white hair with a gasp, yanking violently as you toss your head back until he moans in the back of his throat.

“Yes! Heat it up, please. It’s so good Touya,” you plead, eyes flashing open to stare down at him again. Your gaze trails the movement of his fingers as he circles his cock and jerks himself off lazily.

“So you’re not that fucking stupid after all, good girl.”

Then, Touya is moving forward with fervor. He centers that devilish tongue ring on your clit and draws steady, unrelenting circles until your thighs start to twitch. The metal is heated to the point it teeters on this side of white hot pain, and you fucking love it.

The corners of Touya’s mouth curl upward in a sly smile, tongue still swirling firmly, and his pupils are dilated wildly, making him seem manic. He pulls your clit between his lips and sucks gently. The muscles in your lower stomach tighten and all of a sudden you’re about to cum.

You cry out to him, begging him, and he drags the pad of his thumb from his free hand over your pussy before slipping two fingers inside with zero effort.

He doesn’t relent the rhythmic sucking with his lips, flicking his tongue occasionally. The rough texture of his bottom lip adds to the whirlwind of sensations and he pumps his fingers unhurriedly, curling them each time. Your pussy clings to him like it never wants to let go.

Stars are bursting behind your eyelids when you cum, mouth dropped open in a silent scream as your entire body tenses up. Touya works you through it mercilessly until you’ve deflated in the chair, releasing his hair.

He pulls away with a Cheshire grin, lips shiny and Touya decides to leave his fingers inside you for the time being.

“You’re gonna cum for me again, pretty little whore, and then I’ll let you sit on my fucking cock like I know you’re drooling to do.”

You agree easily and, in the end, Touya has to put you on your back because your legs are too much like jelly to ride him.

#todoroki x reader #todoroki touya x reader #todoroki smut #todoroki touya #dabi x reader #dabi smut #todoroki touya smut #dabi #mha smut #mha x reader #mha todoroki #todoroki headcanons #dabi headcanons #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki smut

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racew1nn3rs · 3 months ago

Text

─ 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘷. (𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺) 🍑

⤷ summary: austria. mclaren pr department can't read the room so shit officially hits the fan. at least y/n is getting paid for her troubles. lando thinks he can think his way out of this one 🤣

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"You want us to what?" Y/n asked incredulously.

There is no way. No. Fucking. Way.

"I know this may seem out of the blue, or even slightly unorthodox, however-" Michael started. Thirty-nine years old, head of the McLaren PR Department, her boss, and he thought this was only 'slightly' unorthodox. Right.

"I think we're a little past slightly, don't you think?" Lando muttered from the chair next to her. He wasn't looking at her directly anymore.

She had successfully ignored 127 messages, 53 phone calls, 3 emails, and a handful of indirect messages from Oscar, and he still didn't seem to get the hint. She shot him down once again when he tried to approach her before their meeting, after she had purposefully shown up as soon to the start time as possible to avoid him. Maybe that had been the final straw and he had understood she had no intention of speaking to him.

Lando's eyes met hers and Y/n swallowed down the guilt at his kicked puppy dog look. He was very good at looking pathetic, and she was starting to become skilled at ignoring it.

Not skilled enough.

"I'm well aware this is putting you both in a very precarious position, especially you Y/n considering your career," Michael continued, "but since you two have begun to interact on social media our numbers have nearly tripled. We've increased our social following across all platforms, we've increased engagement, Christ, we've even increased our merch sales. But if you two dated, a real, PR contract-based relationship, the results would be more than we could have hoped for at the start of the project."

"That was the point of hiring me," Y/n said sitting up. Yes, she was annoyed, but at this point who could blame her, "I knew my strategy of personalizing ourselves to the internet would work. I told you guys this would happen, and if we keep to it we could probably still reach these numbers you're looking for. What you're suggesting doesn't seem a bit far to you? A bit too risky?"

"Honestly, Y/n, the fact of the matter is this: we could increase what you've already started. If we go through with this project, we could see a skyrocket in our social media. This could do wonders for the team, especially given the results this season. No offense, Lando."

The Brit seemed to be dragged out of his thoughts at the comment and he simply shrugged and waved his hands impassively. Y/n intentionally ignored his disregard for the situation, because jumping across her seat and choking him would not solve any of her current problems- even if she really, really wanted to choke him.

"Do you understand what this can do to my career? This would look so unprofessional for me. The point of a PR relationship is that it doesn't really seem like a fake relationship. It would seriously decrease my options if or when I leave McLaren if it seems like I date my coworkers. You're basically condemning me to a life where I would never be hired again. I won't do it. I can't do this." Y/n said shakily, before standing up. It felt like she couldn't breathe, and it's not like she could turn to Lando for comfort in this because they weren't even friends. Not that he seemed all that bothered anyway. Lando seemed perfectly comfortable staring into space like the airhead he was.

Zak, who had been standing calmly in the corner of the room leaned toward her and squeezer her shoulder comfortingly. She had no doubt he knew how uncomfortable this situation must be for her. Unfortunately for her, he just didn't seem to care. Or at least not enough.

Michael sighed and stood up as well, walking around the desk he was sitting at so he was directly in front of her and Lando and sit on the desk itself.

"I hear your concerns Y/n, I really do, but you cannot truly expect that we wouldn't have some safety measures in place for your protection, can you? When I said this would be a contractual relationship, I meant it. There would be physical evidence that you were not violating any workplace policies, and were instead participating in a project that involved the relationship you would be a part of. We would provide any future employers with proof of this, given that they are willing to sign an NDA. You would not be left at risk in your future endeavors," Michael explained sympathetically. Y/n couldn't help but feel the insincerity of his words in comparison to his face.

They understood they were putting her in an uncomfortable position. They understood they were endangering her career no matter how many contracts she signed. And yet here they were, asking anyways.

"And if I just don't want to?" She asked and she heard Zak sigh from behind her. He took his hand off her shoulder.

Oh.

"Then I'm afraid we've reached a standstill here, haven't we?" Michael said. She inhaled sharply and looked down.

Oh. They were going to fire her. Of course.

"Are you serious?" Y/n finally turned to look at Lando. At some point in between when she had last looked at him and since she had begun to have her job dangled in front of her face he had stood up. He looked angry, not that he hadn't looked some variation of hurt, angry, and sad since he arrived.

"You can't seriously be threatening to fire her, right in front of me, over a project that no one in their right mind would agree to without any incentive. You do realize you haven't really offered her anything that would make her agree don't you? Do you do this to all of your employees or just the ones who carry nearly an entire department on their back?" Lando spit out angrily. He wasn't yelling, but he had sure as hell left the station of speaking calmly a while ago.

"Lando," Zak started through grit teeth, but Michael held up a hand.

"You're right Lando, I'm sorry, let me-"

"Why are you apologizing to me? I'm not the one whose job you were just threatening."

"You're right," Michael cleared his throat and returned back to his chair, "I'm sorry Y/n. Truly. I don't think we've approached the topic correctly at all. Let me start over. There is, of course, some incentive for you."

Y/n sighed, and looked over at Lando. Like usual, he was already looking at her. He was letting her take the reigns of the situation, he was letting her be in charge.

Because he respects you, a small part of her brain whispered and she closed her eyes and breathed in. She wasn't thinking about that anymore. She couldn't think about him anymore.

She sat down and stared at Michael. He could continue, but that didn't mean she would agree. Lando sat down as well, glaring at Zak over his shoulder until the older man walked away from behind Y/n's chair and back to the inconspicuous corner he had been in when they started.

"We had some extra money allotted in the budget," Michael started uncomfortably, pushing his glasses up his nose. His voice was wavering and uncertain, making his British accent even thicker. Y/n seemed to have an affinity for upsetting British men this week. Call it American reparations or whatever, but she was finding the prospect quite enjoyable.

"There would be a salary increase for you, should you choose to participate in the project." Michael stated, as he shifted some papers around on the desk. He uncapped a pen and wrote down a number on a piece of company branded legal pad paper. He folded the paper and slid it across the desk. Y/n, who had begun rubbing her temples irritatedly, closed her eyes as she sighed through her nose before reaching a hand out to look. Lando's hand slid in front of hers and grasped the paper before she could.

Her eyes widened in surprise and she looked at him incredulously as he unfolded the paper Michael had passed.

"Lando," Michael began and Lando cut the man off with a scoff. He crumpled the paper and tossed it in the trash.

"You're asking the girl to put her career on the line and that's the amount that you offer?" Lando scoffed. Michael continued to try to speak but Lando held his hand up.

"Let's break this down properly before we make anymore stupid offers," Lando said, voice dripping the arrogance that typically bothered Y/n the most.

"You're asking her to stick out her neck for a PR project that may not work the way you're hoping, you'll be expecting her to keep performing her current work functions while also appearing at additional McLaren events as my partner. On top of all of that, you'll probably also want us to be making public appearances on days and times where she wouldn't be working at all anyway," Y/n thought briefly that this might be the most serious she had ever heard him sound.

"You also can't expect anyone to believe any of this if she doesn't also behave like we're dating in public, and expecting physical affection with someone she isn't actually dating is a lot to ask of someone who isn't a robot, if you weren't already aware," Lando stated patronizingly.

"And that's not even acknowledging the multiple hostile workplace environment policies you've broken in this meeting alone. I really hope you're not expecting her to sign a contract right now without a lawyer on top of that, considering that's illegal." Lando finished, staring at Michael with more anger she had ever seen him show.

"So maybe we should try a much bigger number," Lando said, leaning forward in his chair, "might I recommend doubling it?"

Why was he doing this. She hadn't even heard him out since their argument, ignoring any attempts at conversation, and now he was fighting tooth and nail in a room where no one else was defending her. Including the CEO of the company, who quite literally held his job in his hands.

Maybe that's just his charm. That he never thinks things through. That he doesn't think at all, whether it hurts someone else or himself in the process or not. It's just in his nature to fight first and ask questions later. She couldn't decide whether that was something she could handle or not.

Michael cleared his throat and wrote a number down quickly, handing it to Lando this time instead of her. Lando looked at the number and turned to look at her, nodding and handing the paper over.

Y/n fumbled with the paper slightly before opening it and exhaling sharply through her nose. Right in front of her eyes was a one, a five, and 5 whopping zeroes.

One and a half million dollars. Lando had just gotten her one and a half million dollars.

"This," Y/n started with a shaking voice, before clearing it with a harsh swallow. This was more money than she had ever seen before in her life.

"This is what you're offering me instead of my current salary?" She asked uncertainly. She was getting a headache from the tension of the furrow of her brows.

"No of course not," Lando started, never looking away from Michael.

"This is a bonus they're offering in addition to your current salary, right?" He narrowed his eyes at Michael. Michael nodded aggressively.

"Yes of course. This would be a bonus for participating in the project. You would be receiving your current salary as well for the work you were already participating in," Michael assured and his shoulders slumped in relief when Lando looked away to finally look at her.

"You don't have to make any decisions now," Lando began gently, eyes visibly softening, but Y/n could hardly hear him.

Half a million dollars would be more than enough to pay off her student loans. One and a half million dollars was more money than she even knew what to do with.

"I'll do it," She agreed.

One and a half million dollars, she reassured herself as Lando smiled at her softly. She smiled back. She was only doing this for the money; the one and a half million dollars.

Lando ignored the fluttering in his stomach as she smiled at him for the first time all day. He cheered internally. Who cared about money, this would be perfect. He would make sure to be perfect.

Lando would be the best fake boyfriend she could ever ask for, starting now.

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liked by mclaren, lilyzneimer, and 38,890 others

ynusername austria views hit different this time of year 🥴

19,208 comments

user1 you need a bark cause i can dog real loud

user2 so close op, but not quite!

user1 ... i'm too embarrassed to try again atp

user3 A SOFT LAUNCH?? ON THIS FINE TUESDAY EVENING??

user4 i HATE happy couples, they ruin my mood fr

user5 no deadass, like i hope y'all find out you're cousins

user4 she's dating a m*n i feel so sick

user5 the white men got her 🧎‍♀️

user6 you know who else is in austria 👀

user7 i want to tell you to be fr... but lowkey that does look like lando

user8 BE SO FR YOU CAN'T EVEN SEE HIS FACE

user9 i can't believe i'm lany/n truthing in god's year of 2023, but i am

user10 maybe lany/n is the friends we made along the way

user9 don't patronize me bitch iT'S RIGHT THEREEEEE

landonorris what book are you reading 🤨

ynusername stop acting like you know how to read

landnorris i didn't want to know anyways 😀👍

user11 damn girl they pay you to do this 😫 i don't even get vacation days

ynusername hi i'm saul goodman. did you know that you have rights? the constitution says you do. and so do i ☝️

user12 going on a date on a work trip, are we? 🫣

ynusername let's just call it an employee outing (;

user12 WAHT DOES THAT MEAN Y/N???

user13 OH MY GOD???

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liked by oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell, and 40,103 others

mclaren lando norris p4? more likely than you think (ignore oscar, an intern let him out of his cage again) 😞

user14 he looks so happy, no one speak to me ever again

user15 it's that y/n effect

oscarpiastri quick question! WHAT THE FUCK.

oscarpiastri i am NOT an animal 😡 i don't need a cage

lilyzneimer DON'T YELL AT HER OSCAR 🫵 I'LL HAVE THE INTERN PUT YOU BACK.

mclaren yeah oscar 🤨 watch it

oscarpiastri this isn't a funny joke 😔 this isn't haha funny

user16 lando's best results after there are rumors they've started dating... hmmmm

user17 omg not y'all starting already

user16 what can i say the fanfics write themselves

user18 oscar fans can never catch a break, huh?

user19 i knew that last post was too good to be true

user20 @/oscarpiastri what happened to bribery??

oscarpiastri sorry guys, i pissed her off 😓

user21 ig since lando's off the shit list someone had to take his place

landonorris i got p4 for you admin 🤭

mclaren this is workplace harassment

landonorris ):

mclaren 🎻🤏 (it's the world's smallest violin playing the world's saddest song)

landonorris alright, fuck you ig

user23 lando flirting in the comments and then getting turned down in the most humiliating manner, what's new

landonorris ... it wasn't that humiliating

user23 🎻🤏

landonorris STOP OT NOW.

user24 i know y/n's boyfriend is reading these comments and weeping

user25 boy oh boy do i have news for you op

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liked by user26, landonorris, and 21,844 others

f1wags Various sources have reported seeing Y/n L/n, the current McLaren social media manager and McLaren F1 Driver Lando Norris together across Austria during the GP weekend, and celebrating after. Various kisses and intimate interactions were reported by our sources, including the ones pictured above. What do we think about this new workplace romance?

9,450 comments

user26 IS THIS REAL???? IS THIS REALLLLLL??????

user27 THE PICTURES ARE THERE BUT I STILL DON'T BELIEVE IT

user28 they're so cute, it almost makes me forget that this is the most insane thing i'll see all year

user29 bro beat the norizz allegations

user30 THE KISS?? THE BEACH PICTURES??? THE DINNER HUG??? OH THEY'RE IN LOVE IN LOVE

user31 they grow up so fast

user32 he's not hot enough for her, next question!

user33 be so serious 🙄

mclaren zoo wee mama

user34 THIS IS WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF????

mclaren hubba hubba

user35 from the team account is diabolical

user36 and they say bullying isn't a love language

user37 she hated on him so hard he fell in love with her

landonorris damn right she did

user38 lando try not to be down bad challenge *impossible* *never seen before*

user39 oh i know the twitter users that have been getting hate for weeks for saying the truth are MADDDD

user40 they couldn't have been more obvious, we've been in denial

user41 the eyes chico, they never lie

user42 oh i know zak brown is throwing up over this pr nightmare

user43 right like i think people are forgetting she's an employee 💀

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liked by carlossainz55, maxverstappen1, and 77,954 others

landonorris post-p4 cooldown 🧡

25,001 comments

oscarpiastri what's all this then 🧍‍♂️

oscarpiastri i really love how you're so good about telling me things 😮‍💨

user44 someone free oscar from lany/n bro

user45 this was NOT on my 2024 bingo card

user46 i don't think anyone could have predicted lando having rizz

ynusername so true

landonorris HEY.

danielricciardo i wasn't familiar with your game lando

landonorris STOP HITTIG ON HER SHES MINE

danielricciardo damn lil bro no one is taking her from you

user47 "she's mine" down horrendous once again

user48 bro was born down horrendous i fear

carlossainz55 i can't believe you didn't tell me lando! congratulations

landonorris it was a secret you muppet 🙄 but thank you

maxverstappen1 you too make a great couple! congrats mate 🤝

ynusername this was the most max verstappen way you could have said this

maxverstappen1 still bullying me i see 😔

lilyzneimer CUTIE PATOOTIES <3 oh and hi lando

landonorris can't even be mad cause they are too damn cute 😫

lilyzneimer good answer!

bsfuser1 congratulations i guess (she was mine first) 🙄

landnorris thanks! (we can share)

bsfuser2 hurt her and i kill you!!! so cute together tho <3

landonorris you lot are fucking terrifying!! appreciate it (:

zbrownceo Congratulations you two! Can't imagine a better pair 🧡💪

landonorris Thanks Zak!!!

ynusername you gave cali kisses so i guess you're alright <3

landonorris as many kisses as my girls want

user49 MY GIRLS KMSSSS

user50 cat dad cat dad cat dad ‼️

━━━━━━ ༻✩₊⋆☾⋆⁺✧༺ ━━━━━━

that's the end of act 1!!! part 2 coming shortly <3 i'm moving into college and starting classes so if updates slow down a bit just know i'm getting things out as quickly as i can ((: hope you enjoyed and feel free to leave your thoughts!!

𝙩𝙖𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

@lemon-lav @slutforpopculture @m4rt10ne @urfavsgf @sadsierra2 @96jnie @sltwins @poppyflower-22 @alliumiae @livelovesports @liberty-barnes @the-holy-trinity-l @iliwyss @awritingtree @redpool @elliotts1one @velentine @chaoticmessneutralplease @5sospenguinqueen @charizznorizz @2pagenumb @mxdi0 @cwiphswmwasohmm @tremendousstarlighttragedy @lnspipedrm @itseightbeats @tinycoffeeroom @woozarts @personwhoisther @a-beaverhausen @love-simon @annabellelee @ravisinghs-wife @chezmardybum @greantii @weekendlusting @monserelates @sapphiccloud @halleest @deamus-liv @gigigreens @morenofilm @laneyspaulding19 @lanireadss @dear-fifi @moldyshorts1997 @oliviarodrigostan13 @eugene-emt-roe @ilivbullyingjeongin @im-a-ghost666

#f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #formula 1 #f1 #f1 smut #f1 x you #formula one #f1 imagine #f1 smau #lando norris x y/n #lando norris #lando x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #racew1nn3rs #racew1nn3rs: fake it till you make it

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windser · 4 months ago

Text

thinking more about streamerbf!kenma and how his subscribers have been pestering him about a q&a but kenma just hates the idea of just talking about himself. he’s fine having the sole attention on him while he’s playing games, used to idle chatter and occasional questions about his play style. but thirty minutes of what it’s like to be kenma ?

hard pass.

he complains about this to you one night, head tucked into your lap while you run your fingers through his scalp. he was approaching another significant subscriber milestone and his usual rewards aren’t cutting it. they just want to get to know you kenma, you try to reason. but all you get in return is a soft grown that could double as a whimper.

as a moderator, you know how his fans can get. social media in general when they unite under the same goal. no, this will hit a pinnacle if not handled carefully. part of you gets it. it took quite a bit of time for kenma to open up to your social agenda. from inquiring from his favorite type of bird to how he decides on what video game to play next, you spent what feels like years now getting to know your other half. now your boyfriend hardly even blinked while answering your-

at the thought, your lip purses in consideration.

days later, kenma only gives you a questioning grunt when you slide beside him during his stream. a few months ago, he’d purchased you a more comfortable chair to lounge in to share the same space as him. he rarely minded when you did, but usually you’d give him a heads up.

his chat is well trained enough at this point to know when you’re around.

user795: is that them? user23: hiiiiiiiii!! welcome user55: are they going to play today ?

you follow the messages with a hint of a smile, only giving a little wave in frame before turning to kenma. your boyfriend had removed the headphone closest to you, a small acknowledgment that always sent your heart a flutter.

off screen, you massage the top of his thigh which earns you a another quick glance and a slight slouch as he relaxes into your touch.

“ken, what was your first ever game you played ?”

now this gets you a longer look, one accompanied by a furrow brow and confusion. his lips move in a mumble but audible enough to hear however as he concedes without question, "mega man.”

from the corner of your eye, you see that chat reacting to his answer, some acknowledging it either familiarity and others new to it.

user124: ohhh i played that. good game man user775: i think my cousin played that but i’ve never seen it. can you still get that? user65: @user775 the og? you need backwards compatibility i think but yes user8895: i had a hard time beating that one. has kenma ever been beaten by a game?

still following the chat, you catch the question and propose it to kenma. with you here, he minds the chat a little less closely, only catching up when he breaks between missions.

“in middle school you played this one game for what felt like weeks, did you ever beat it?”

kenma shifts his leg under your touch, redirecting the circle of your thumb to a new spot. “tactics ogre? no, i kept getting stuck on the last boss. tetsuro asked to borrow it to try but he lost it.”

he’d obviously been miffed by the lost game but apparently not enough to repurchase it and probably complete it. that note didn’t seem to be lost to the chat.

user321: damn at least we know he’s human. even kenma gets stumped user642: to be fair that was a tough one. even the creator acknowledged that it was tough on players on release user533: i bet he could beat it now. that should be his next walkthrough.

“ah,” you bite your lips when kenma's gaze flickers briefly to the chat. “yeah, i might. i already have it in my library.”

grinning, you give him a light squeeze catching his eye in return before they went back to his game. you browse the slowly rolling in questions carefully, weeding through the more repetitive ones to find ones with more substance.

“did you ever play anything other than volleyball growing up?”

you wince when your boyfriend full on turns to face you. that might have been too specific of a question, something you so obviously knew and had no reason to ask without context. so all you could do was give him your best pleading gaze, hoping he’d play along and ask later.

it’s not until he huff that you know you’ve won, his response coming right after if not with a bit of sass.

“i got nagged enough between you and tetsuro with just volleyball, that was more than enough.”

user863: looooool user3626: i can’t really imagine kodzuken playing anything else. like soccer, can you imagine? user6556: nah volleyball was fitting user3322: they’ve always been familiar but how long have you guys actually dated?

your mouth opens and close sky soundlessly on the taste of that one. you knew in general when kenma actually asked you out, just short of your second year in high school. back then, the two of you had been fumbling with your feelings for months. but you never really learned when those feelings actually seeded for him.

but that was a moment for off screen conversation. instead you ask

“our first date back in second year of high school, you took me to the arcade and i obliterated you in DDR, remember that?”

kenma fires back quickly,” after i put high scored you on every other one.”

it's impossible not to grin as you remember that day. what had started as an awkward date forty minutes in had lasted an additional three hours as the both of you eased back into your normal routine.

user7: ughhhh to have a gaming s/o user6552: they’re so cute goals man user172: are they actually gamers ? user032: @user172 kenma plays some games with them on stream. they’re actually pretty good user4534: ohhh kodzuken never talks about his his favorite snacks, can you ask what those limited ones he always eats are?

that was an easy enough questions that got written off as your own ignorance. while you often did the grocery shopping, kenma placed most of his snack orders online. partly due to its limited availability and other reasons pertaining to it being out of country. kenma responds easily in turn.

user333: wait, is this the q&a we've been asking? user405: omg i have soo many questions saved!!!! i didnt realize it was today user7532: i thought kodzuken didn't want to do this? user89305: @user7532 well he's answering questions like he is

you frown as the chat explodes with activity, some questioning the validity of the 'event' others spamming the feed with their questions. it's more than enough to draw kenma's attention away from his other screen and you find yourself pausing as he tenses under your touch.

while you hadn't maliciously tricked him, you had coerced him into this. he'd have every right to scold you for it. you wince when he scoffs, preparing for the brunt of it. but what comes next is just a sigh as he shifts in his chair, the movement inviting your hand to rest comfortably more towards the inside of his thigh as he leaned back.

"you guys ask too many questions, this is why i didn't want to do this q&a. if you get too much for them to handle, i'm going to end the event."

and while his words sound stern, he truly does harvest a bunch of excited individuals as the stream only explodes even more with enthusiasm and inquiries.

frankly way too many for you to keep up with as you bewilderly try to scan the chat for feasible ones to ask. when you finally identify one and turn to ask, you find kenma watching you with that smug pull of his lips.

"well what's next?"

bonus:

eventually, kenma had taken over selecting his own questions as the stream properly shifted into the q&a event, title change and all. the chat adjusted to the new handler as well, being more strategic about their question timings in order to get the most of his attention.

every so often you would chime in, but you mostly relaxed back in your own chair with your legs resting across his lap.

you weren't sure how long exactly you expected this event to go, but you knew it was getting late. not necessarily for a kodzuken stream, but in the day in general.

it was kenma's touch now, that stroked your skin as his gaze followed the never ending influx of questions.

user345675: has he talked about hinata shoyo yet? user09432: i feel like people are asking the same questions user869320: will you ever have guests on your stream? user9642: kodzuken what is it like to run your own company?

intrigued enough, he opened his mouth to reply when another question rolled in

kenmaskitten: what does kodzuken want for dinner?

you look up from your phone as kenma's attention shifts to you. he holds your gaze as he replies,

"i want katsu."

you shrug, easy enough and all the ingredients are probably in the kitchen. however, as you go to slide your legs away, kenma captures one ankle.

"and apple pie."

that was less simple and tastes like a reward.

#kenma x reader #kenma x you #kenma kuzome #kenma fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines

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oldmenthusiast · 1 month ago

Text

18+ content mdni

bookshop owner!joel miller x fem plus size reader

warnings: smut, age gap, tension, reader is in her 20s and joel in his 50s, semi public sex, reader wears glasses, not proofread

it takes many job interviews for joel to hire someone until he finds you. you're not the first young thing to apply for the job, not the most qualified either but joel likes how modest you are.

he also likes the way you avoid his gaze if he stares too long, or how you keep pushing your glasses every time they slide down your nose.

those aren't the only things he notices about you because he's become very observant due to his age; it definitely doesn't have to do with some strange infatuation over you, no.

when your hands firmly pull your sundress down if it's too windy, when you smack your own forehead if you mix up the order of the books before switching them again. joel notices that too but it doesn't necessarily mean anything.

“I’ve taken care of the online orders, mister miller.” you inform him as sweet as ever and joel’s crooked smile appears on instinct.

“thank you, sweetheart. you know how people my age are with those machines.”

you're kind enough to shake your head at his response.

“I think you're doing great,sir.” you tell him and it warms his cold heart to the core.

“go home, sugar. I'll close up soon.” he mutters with the same half smile and watches you go but not without wishing him a good day.

during peak season, the bookshop gets naturally busy but to the point where joel and you have to stay overtime.

he doesn't ask it of you but you insist.

“I can't let you do all that by yourself.” you mutter with a faint pout that he wants to kiss away.

“can’t pay you for overtime,sugar—”

“just let me do this for you,sir.” you cut him off and joel doesn't argue further.

that's how his following nights go. you sit together in the back of the store, tons of books and papers surrounding you as you work. you assist him with every single thing he needs and even if you lack knowledge in some parts, you learn it for him.

peak season ends, the bookshop is quiet and your shift ends but you somehow still sit at the back of the store instead of going home. joel sits across you while holding a bottle of beer in his hand.

“a girl your age should go out with friends and have fun, not rot in here with me.” joel tells you with a hint of amusement in his tone.

even if he's right, you do not agree.

“I like it here, it's peaceful..” you explain and as usual your gaze doesn't linger on his. you look away when joel doesn't and it makes the man smile.

“I like it too.” he mutters after a while and tips his head back to down the rest of his beer.

there's hidden intent behind his reply, or maybe just the feeling of wanting to say something more, but joel keeps quiet. whether you notice it or no, you don't say.

joel doesn't pride himself to be the best boss but at least he's a good enough one. that's what he tells himself when your most recent ex partner marches in his bookshop to cause a scene but joel sends him back with a bruised eye and some vulgar words.

it's probably the first time someone has stood up for you like that but it's more special because it comes from joel.

whether it's out of gratitude or suppressed emotions, joel thanks whatever high power has led him to the back of the store again with his body slumped on his chair and you straddling his lap.

“mister miller.” you moan as you sink down his cock, taking him inch by inch until you're fuller than ever.

his calloused hands wrap around your plush thighs and fondle the skin greedily, loving how it spills between his fingers. whatever you're not proud of, joel touches it like it's a treasure.

“I’m a man, not a boy.” he growls when you hesitate to move on him, afraid of crushing him beneath your weight. “fuck yourself on my cock, baby. come on.” one of his hands slaps your ass possessively and his words alone are good enough to give you the confidence that you lack.

once you start moving, it's over for him.

his thighs flex beneath your weight and his cock twitches within you as you ride him, taking him in so perfect.

“so good. my sweet girl. my favourite girl.” he whispers against your cheek and you melt while swaying your hips faster.

his hands clutch harder at your thighs as you bounce on his cock, buzzing with heat and need for more.

the sound of skin slapping, as well as the wet noises that emit with each slide of joel’s hardened cock inside your folds makes everything better. “so wet. you're coating my cock with it, sugar.” he says through gritted teeth as his fingers dig harder into the skin of your ass.

he slaps it once, then twice.

“mister miller!” you cry out when a particularly hard thrust is delivered straight into your sweet spot.

joel buries his face into your neck and grunts as your walls tighten around his cock, claiming his every inch. “so sensitive. bet your boyfriend didn't know how to fuck like this.” and he's probably right by the way your pussy drools and squeezes around him, sucking him in for more.

his lips find your neck and he marks it unapologetically, biting and sucking on whatever skin his mouth can reach.

when he pulls away and presses his back against the creaking chair he's graced by a sight better than any other.

joel watches you ride him, stares as your tits bounce before his face and your crooked glasses struggle to exist because of the force of his thrusts below you.

he definitely can't last long after that and he uses his strength to shove you on the table and tower over you. only then does he realize the pathetic state of your sundress, butchered up around your waist like it's a belt. he slides his cock inside you again and you whimper softly.

“knew you were made for me ever since you walked through that door.” joel growls while fondling your breasts with both hands, his mouth merely occupied with the tender skin on them.

your hands reach for him, gripping the back of his shirt as he fucks you. you're not used to being given things, only to give them yourself. and this much pleasure is overwhelming but it's good because it's joel giving it.

a particular shift of his hips helps him to slide deeper and the sensation causes you both to moan in unison.

“I won’t last, sweet girl.” he croaks between the space of your breasts while sucking one of your nipples into his mouth.

you can say the same as the stimulation brings you closer to the edge and your eyes can barely stay open at some point.

his hips follow a fast and intrusive pace, and every time joel’s hips collide against the back of your thighs it makes your skin jiggle. you feel embarrassed but not for long as joel drags his lips against yours.

“the prettiest girl. there's nothing better than you, sweetheart.” joel whispers and you kiss him before he does.

your mouths melt so perfectly, your noses brushing intimately, and if joel could bring you any closer he would.

“there.” you beg against his lips when the tip of his cock hits that perfect spot within you.

“here?” he asks teasingly and makes his thrusts purposely rougher. your legs shake around him and he does it again. and again. and again.

the bookshop is filled with your cries and begging. “i’m coming— I can't—” you mumble incoherently but joel gets it as he speeds it up.

you watch his hand disappear between your bodies and you don't question it until you feel that excellent brush of fingers against your clit, accompanied by his savage thrusts into your weeping pussy.

“joel.” his informal name falls off your lips so well and he has to remind himself to breath when you say it as you come around his cock with a cry.

it takes everything in him to not spill everything within you right there.

“where? where, baby?” he asks as he grounds his hips and hopes you'll get it.

“I'm on the pill.” you so graciously tell him while squeezing your thighs around his waist and joel nearly says thank you because of what a desperate bastard he is.

it only takes a few more thrusts for him to let go and come inside you, his hands abandoning your breasts to pull you down by your hips.

your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel every drop pour into you and fill you up. it briefly shocks you that he's still coming — he's still filling you up with his seed and groaning against you.

“there’s so much.” you mutter breathlessly as he nuzzles his face against yours. joel simply hums and uses one of his hands to caress the bare side of your hip, keeping you relaxed.

“we’re not opening tomorrow.” he tells you in his usual tone of authority.

“it’s thursday.” you tell him.

“good day to go out and eat,yeah?” joel pulls back enough to look at you and he stares at you knowingly. his words bring a smile to your lips, one that he wants to treasure forever.

you nod then, giving him your acceptance.

“yeah. it is a good day to eat out.” his hand moves from your hip to fix your crooked glasses with a fond expression. the glint in his eyes speaks louder than any sentence.

“maybe you should keep your calendar empty for this month. or year.” his words amuse you but you're aware that it's far from a joke — he isn't asking. your eyes regard him as gently as always and you smile that way just for him. “yes mister miller.”

he was glad to have hired you.

#joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x plus size reader #joel miller x plus size reader #the last of us #tlou #pedro pascal x y/n

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ozzgin · 7 months ago

Note

Hi!! Your writing it truly lovely 😭<33 If i could request anything with Zzy? Thank youuu

Yandere! Demon x Gloomy! Reader (II)

Featuring the goat-legged boy Zzy and a gloomy, newly employed detective Reader! By the way, his name is a little tribute to a series I like. Can you guess who inspired it? Hint: it's Jhonen Vasquez's first comic :D

Content: female reader, perverted goat demon yandere, dark/crass humor!, monster romance, mildly NSFW

[Part 1] [Monster masterlist]

The detective man, at the very least, kept his word. The pay is good, and you barely have any work to do. The jobs themselves are similarly not too challenging: so far you haven’t had to deal with any murder mystery out of an Agatha Christie novel. Rather, most of the time, it’s someone asking you to investigate their cheating partner, or sending you to do a background check for an employee. Every now and then you’ll get the odd client, but that’s something for another day.

Your boss isn’t all that bad either. You were initially quite hesitant to be alone in the room with him. He always seems to be surrounded by an eerie, dark aura, and you’ve only seen him smile in a menacing, villainous way. Now you’ve gotten used to his strangeness. In fact, it’s almost comforting. There’s something refreshing about another human being honest about their misery. He seems to be just as uninterested in this job as you are, spending most of his time reading at his desk. Despite his unkempt, scary appearance, he's pleasant enough and looks after you. Which, now that you think about it, is a little suspicious. You've seen him act around other people: curt and to the point, disinterested, even potentially rude. With demons, he's ruthless.

"Have you had lunch yet?" the man asks, standing up and dusting his knees. "I can get us something."

You nod and flash him a flaccid smile, although you can't help but ask:

"Listen, aren't you being a little too nice? I mean, I'm not complaining...but I've seen how you behave in general, and I have a hard time coming up with a reason for my special treatment."

He ponders your question for a moment, before his sunken eyes look ahead, somewhere behind you.

"Well…If I’m being honest, you’re kind of pathetic, aren't you? I’m just a little worried that if I’m too harsh, I’ll find out you hanged yourself in your apartment or something. Not that I’d care, but if you’re gone, I’m the one stuck with…that thing.”

Ah. That’s what it was. Almost immediately, a shiver runs across your spine.

“(Y/N)! Are you done yet? I’m booooooored”, a prolonged whine erupts from the neighboring chamber.

“I’m about to have lunch, actually. Do you want any-”

“You know I do! Spread those legs and I can start”, the goat demon declares with a grin, clacking his hooves in your direction.

You sigh.

Of course. Months ago, you were tricked into signing a lifelong contract with Zzy. It was the detective’s way of washing his hands off the matter and warmly welcoming you into the agency. It makes sense that he'd treat you with utmost care, otherwise he'd have to deal with this pest from Hell once again.

How's your life with Zzy going?

You've since found a way to seal your bedroom, in order to avoid waking up with his groping hands under your sheets. Sadly, the stubborn creature keeps finding ways to bypass your safety measurements. Who would’ve thought that lust is such a powerful driving force?

On top of the nightly shenanigans, you obviously have to deal with him during the day, at the agency. “Listen, it’s like…one of those fidget toys. It helps with stress”, he explains fervently while pointing at your chest. “You want me to do my work properly, don’t you?” He concludes theatrically. “You’re not holding my boobs. This is the end of the conversation.”

If you’re having a bad day, it won’t go unnoticed. “Boy, what a smell, what a delicacy. You’re even more miserable than usual”, Zzy will exclaim, throwing his hands together in a graceful prayer. “You know what the best medicine is? A quick fuck. Let me pound that sadness out of you, eh?”

Despite his constant clowning, the demon does have moments of clarity. He becomes particularly serious when jealous. “What have you done?” You shout in despair, gawking at the client - now morphed into a pig - foaming at the mouth and running around the room. “He was staring at your ass. Only I can do that.” The horned man stands proud, arms crossed, nodding at his own courageous act. His most treasured belonging has been defended once more.

As expected, the jealous curse has gotten both of you into time-out. Zzy because he cursed the client in the first place, and you - despite your protests - because you didn't stop him in time. "Can't you wear something easier to take off? It takes two business days to unbutton this crap", the demon complains as he fiddles with your shirt. You're laying on the sofa, hands behind your head, gazing at the clock on the wall and counting the minutes passing. Unbothered, compliant. The peacefulness of someone who's given up. "Zipper is to the left", you add, aiding the process.

Another irritating detail is that the damned beast can detect the slightest arousal coming from you, and will make sure to announce it loudly, regardless of who is around. "Someone's horny! Whew, getting me all worked up, too." You slap a hand over his mouth, a deep red blush rapidly spreading across your cheeks. You turn to the detective and apologize profusely, but he remains unconcerned, flipping another page. "Let me take care of her first, Mr. Detective", Zzy manages to mumble through your pressed fingers. "As long as you get the task done", your boss responds plainly, never bothering to look up from his book.

"You should visit me down there sometimes", the horned creature suddenly mentions, his head resting in your lap as you idly browse your phone. You stop to glance down at him. "In Hell, you mean?" He snickers at the thought. "No one believes me when I tell them I have a human girlfriend. I need concrete proof, ya feel me?" You raise an eyebrow. "Girlfriend?" He disregards your inquiry and continues: "At least give me a pair of your panties to take back home." Absolutely not.

"Were you this much of a menace before I showed up?"

"What's that supposed to mean?! You can't blame a demon for being in love."

You sigh once more and roll over.

"Does that mean we can go for round two~?" Zzy is grinning at his own suggestion.

"Just go to sleep. Or something."

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fallow-hollow · 7 months ago

Text

five stages of grief

…ft! kabru x gn! oblivious! reader

…tags! pining, confession, kabru is a bit of a freak about this, oblivious reader, reader is an adventurer

…word count! 2671

…notes! spreading my kabruganda to the masses!!! kabru is my me so I very much enjoy writing him

denial

At first, Kabru was so convinced that there was something behind your happy-go-lucky exterior.

You were so skilled in the dungeon, able to make it down to floors that even he hadn’t traversed yet. So you must have a good grasp on tactics, not only in battle, but also when socializing! Yes, maybe you read people expertly when they’d respond in kind to your friendly behavior…..

During the stage where you’re acquainted but don’t know much about each other personally, he spends so long crafting theories about what’s going on inside your head.

His party members get sick of hearing about it halfway through the second week.

Once you meet again in person, he’s ecstatic to have an opportunity to take a closer look at your inner workings. His words and mannerisms are calm and purposeful, but there is a certain spark in his eyes, almost trying to illuminate your thoughts and feelings with its shine.

Over the course of the conversation, Kabru starts getting a bit confused at his lack of new findings about you. It takes you saying something particularly damning for him to finally reach the dreaded conclusion.

“I don’t usually run into you in places like this.”

Kabru had encountered you one evening after exiting his room and seeing you and a few party members at the bar. It was nothing short of a strike of luck, and most certainly not him deliberately staying home that evening because he’d overheard your plans to go out.

“Hm?” You perked up, looking at him with a blank expression that was quickly replaced with a kind smile. Even trying to look closely, he couldn’t find anything present in your face except for a simple joy.

He would approach you with long strides, placing one hand on the back of your chair as to be friendly and intimate, but not so intimate as to make you recoil from a touch. The wink he gave you was with the eye facing away from the others on the opposite side of the table, ensuring most of them wouldn’t notice his flirtatious gesture.

“Want me to buy you a drink?”

Immediately, you raised one hand in polite refusal, your smile turning into more of a sheepish one. “Oh, I don’t know if I’d be able to pay you back. I wasn’t going to splurge much tonight anyway….”

As you talked, Kabru pulled up a free chair and sat down, a gesture that cemented himself in the conversation and setting. He noticed when he sat down in the middle of conversation, it made people less likely to turn him away than if he were still standing.

“No, no.” when he shook his head, his dark curls did a swishing movement. Once he looked back at you, he gave a half-lidded smile, only a tinge sultry in hopes you’d pick up his hints. “Your company is more than enough payment for me.”

Your party could only stare on with absolute pity as you waved your previously raised hand dismissively, giving what Kabru could only assume was a reassuring nod. Why did you think he needed reassured….? What did you think he meant?

“It’s completely fine, no need to be polite! We’re beyond such niceties at this point, I’d say. After all, I consider us to be at least a little bit friends, right? You don’t need to buy me a drink just to hang out!”

For a brief period, Kabru felt as if his whole world was spinning around him, before then shattering at the unknowing sledgehammer of your words. These statements and mannerisms suggested something far more than just a passive rejection…… no, it was something much darker.

You truly were as dense as a brick wall.

anger

Kabru doesn’t always react….. too calmly when people defy his expectations.

He’s able to keep a smile on his face just fine, but on the inside he’s screaming.

What do you mean there isn’t more? Where’s the scheme? The ulterior motive? The familiar secrets he can unravel and use to his advantage? Is it so bad that he wants there to be more?????

I’ll be honest, the man experiences his fair number of homicidal thoughts about you. In a strangely romantic way!

You’ll be chatting away with him, each remark and flirtation absolutely flying over your head, and inside his mind he’s just going I should gut them right here and sort their bones and vitals by size if they won’t let me dissect them the mental way.

And then seconds later he’ll go haha what was that! Anyway yes tell me more about the cute bird you saw last week.

I think Kabru does a lot of journaling, so he has a fair number of notes about you. Sometimes they’re drawings of you with notes about your appearance and physical mannerisms, other times he writes more free form about his thoughts regarding you. When he gets particularly frustrated, the writing can became scratchy or heavy handed to the point that it’s unreadable or nearly tears the paper.

The silence and solitude of the night was briefly interrupted by Rin rolling over in her sleeping bag. She was just beyond the range of the firelight where Kabru was still writing, and he could only barely see the way she squinted at him through her own tiredness.

“What are you scribbling about so late at night?” The mage would try to start another sentence, but be cut off by a yawn. If she was trying to be intimidating, it certainly wasn’t working. “Go to bed, Kabru, or else you’ll wake up to being sprayed by an undine if I have anything to say about it.”

That was a rather unpleasant thought….. even if the threat wasn’t legitimate, Kabru recognized that he’d probably spent far more time writing than intended. It was embarrassingly easy to get distracted when it came to you….just another thing that irked him about you. Yes…..’irked’. That’s most certainly the word.

“I’ll wrap it up soon, sorry to disturb your sleep, Rin.” With a grumble, the girl rolled back over, leaving Kabru to glance at his notebook for just a brief moment more before closing it. The writing was near illegible, but he still knew the words by heart:

‘I wouldn’t mind if they were scared of me. Maybe, if they sat on the other end of my sword, trembling and wide-eyed like human prey, I’d get to see a truly untouched side of them.’

bargaining

After the shock and rage subsides, Kabru tries to make you realize his feelings through pretty much every method imaginable except for confessing.

It feels like the man always appears at your side, always claiming he ‘happened to be in the area’ or something similar. And you never even question it, infuriatingly for him.

Your party members often tell you that something is up with the guy, that he’s hanging around you a suspicious amount but never being fully transparent, but you’d feel so bad about being suspicious of him when he’s done nothing but inquire about you and even offer gifts on rare occasions!

Kabru isn’t exactly the richest of adventurers, so gifts or treating you isn’t a regular occasion, but it’s certainly something he resorts to as a last ditch effort to try and get you to realize that he’s interested in you romantically.

Once he even tried to offer you a flower, but you still didn’t take the hint.

When you saw the flower in Kabru’s hand that day, your first thought was being so flattered that he remembered your conversation about which ones you both liked.

“Oh, Kabru!” You exclaimed with pure joy, causing the man to become embarrassingly excited that perhaps you had finally noticed the meaning behind all his gestures. Were you finally moved and wowed by his considerate, perfectly planned gift.

Clapping your hands together, you would beam and say, “You liked my favorite flower so much that you wanted to get one for yourself?”

A fly could’ve soared down Kabru’s throat in the time of that pause, but you paid it no mind, instead eagerly awaiting his reply.

The look on Kabru’s face was a completely blank smile, his bright blue eyes seeming to have almost burned out like a pair of oil lamps. Then, as he regained his composure, those lights flickered back on again, albeit wavering slightly.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take it yourself? If you like it so much, I’d be happy to let you take it home.” Poor Kabru, he should have learned by now that hints have no effect against the impenetrable fortress that is your cluelessness.

Your grin was the nail in the coffin, letting him know you had something in your head that was absolutely not anything he could anticipate from anyone else. “But why not use it as some decoration? Your party members always talk about how sparse your room is, and it could even remind you of me when I’m away! Here—“

You ushered him closer, a hand now on the small of his back giving him sparks that teetered between pleasurable and painful. The free hand gestured to the plant he held so delicately, pointing out different features like the petals, stem, and so on. “I can even tell you some facts about it; that’ll help you enjoy it that much more deeply whenever you see it! And you’ll remember our conversation!”

The way you could be so resistant to his advances yet so sweet to him could be nothing short of torturous sometimes.

depression

For a while, something fairly rare happens to Kabru: he falls into a slump.

He spends a long time in the dungeon, slashing away at monsters as if it might help him clear his head. His teammates notice that he can get more aggressive in combat than usual, but never really ask him about it.

He also becomes more spacey during mealtimes, and while some peaceful silence is nice, having Kabru of all people be so uncharacteristically quiet for so long.

It comes to the point that something similar to an intervention happens one day after dinner.

“What’s up with you, Kabru?” Mickbell wasn’t one to beat around the bush, immediately starting his line of questioning while looking at his teammate, void of mischief or amusement. “You’ve been all broody and silent all week. Can’t just expect us to not ask about it.”

“What Mickbell said,” Kuro concurred almost immediately after.

The tallman did his best to blink away his tiredness and offer a more confident look that he usually used when trying to rally his team under an idea or calm them down. “I didn’t mean to make you guys worry that much about me. It’s just something I’ve been personally interested in, so it’s not something you guys need to worry about.”

“A personal problem?” Rin cocked a brow. “If I know anything about what interests you, it’s probably a person.”

“Haha, caught me red-handed like always.” He raised his hands in faux surrender, though Rin didn’t seem to be put at ease by the gesture, so he tacked on another statement. “I was surprisingly stumped on what tactics to use when talking to a certain person, it’s really got me thinking.” Averting his gaze to the side, he could almost conjure an image of your grinning face in the corner of his vision. “It’s pretty exciting, though, so I don’t mind.”

“Ugh, I knew it!” The half foot threw his head back in exasperation, causing Kuro to extend one arm behind him in case he fell. “It’s that brick-headed adventurer you’re getting all cozy with, isn’t it?! What, you thinking of starting a new party?”

While Mickbell was busy stomping his foot to punctuate his accusation, Holm merely hummed. The gnome usually stayed pretty impartial to matters like this, but that didn’t mean he could always resist throwing in a comment or two.

“I’d be stumped too if I thought about human interaction like a battlefield.” His tone of voice remained soft, but his words were still quite pointed. “You really have to be upfront about your feelings sometimes, you know that? At least, if Mick’s description can actually be trusted.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?!”

After those two broke down into petty squabbling, Kabru could merely try his best to mask his realization behind a tight-mouthed grin.

Holm was right, and he hated it more than anything.

acceptance

Okay, this is the part where Kabru actually bites the bullet and talks about his feelings. Truly a miracle of life.

Kabru can have a lot of trouble being fully vulnerable due to feeling like he’s losing control, so he does his best to maintain control over the rest of the outing. He arranges the time, location, even makes sure to get there first. It’s the most he can do to not feel completely helpless at the whims of his own fickle heart.

When you arrive, a new wave of nervousness hits him that’s almost like nothing before. Kabru has slain men without a second thought, and here he is resisting the urge to tremble because he has to tell his crush he likes them.

He starts off with small talk, sort of building up to his confession while also beating around the bush just a little. Asking you how you’ve been, if you’ve done anything noteworthy, if you’ve meet any new people…..

Eventually, Kabru decides that if he waits any longer, he may instinctually try to hide his intentions in the long strings of small talk he’s making, so he finally takes that leap.

He said your name, and your eyes flickered up to his face. Even if you were spacey at times, you never stared past him or through him whenever he was addressing you. It made him feel….strange. It was odd to feel truly perceived at times.

“Can I be….. terribly honest with you?” He cards his fingers through his curls and closes his eyes, and you couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly beautiful he looked.

“Of course,” you responded without thinking. Not like you ever needed to think twice about your appreciation for the man. More than that, really.

There was stillness, and all you could hear was Kabru’s deep inhale through his nose. He intended to phrase it more eloquently, he really did, but when he opened his eyes again and saw you waiting on his words with baited breath, there was this instinctive fear that maybe this would be his only chance. That you would walk away or disappear, leaving him with only the memory.

He didn’t want just a memory.

“I want you to know that I love you above all else.”

Your mouth hung agape like his had many times in response to your own remarks. Were it not for how shocked he was at his own words, he would have chuckled at how cute you look.

Before he could even scramble to elaborate on his uncharacteristically blunt comment, you blurted out in a similar fashion, voice slightly raised and head perked up,

“You really feel that way?!”

Faced with your blushing face, Kabru could only affirm the feelings that you promoted from somewhere deep within him. “Yes, I’d been trying to win you over for a long time, really.”

If you were flushed before, then now you were nothing short of flooded with embarrassment from ear to ear. Despite this, you were smiling, wobbly and sheepish. “I mean, it’s not like I’m shocked in a bad way or anything — I always thought you were really wonderful, too wonderful for me anyway. I really never thought you were pursuing me of all people!”

For the longest time, your denseness had given Kabru untold grief. Upon seeing you state it so plainly, however, he just couldn’t find it in his heart to be upset. Not when it was one of the things that made you so fascinating.

“I’d sort of figured as such, yeah.”

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