#but he has one freckle under his eye and another on the opposite cheek that I used to be sure it was the same person

[ctimenefic]

I know the admins have probably already driven the joke into the ground but if anyone wanted a short meditation on Oscar Piastri, Charles Leclerc, daddy kink and a side of landoscar and carcar, boy, do I have that under the cut

Lando should’ve had enough of thinking by 1am on the Monday morning after the Monaco GP. There hadn’t been much to do but think during the race - ask about the gap to George, think, gain half a second on Carlos, think, catch a glimpse of the battle for 12th somehow two whole laps behind him, think. And in the end, cross the line exactly where he started, because it was fucking Monaco on zero pit stops, and Charles was never going to gamble, so neither could anyone else. 

Maybe it’s too much time spent playing percentages without ever taking a fucking risk, but as he flops back into a VIP booth he finds himself weighing the odds again. Charles is soaking wet for the third time that day - first champagne, second the harbour swill, and now some rank mix of vodka, sweat and liquid fucking joy oozing out of his with every flail. It’s disgusting and adorable and Lando will not be accepting any comparisons to Miami. Not home before sunrise, Lando reckons. Four piss-stop strategy, hah.

Oscar slides in opposite, a clutch of beers in hand, because he’s still super fucking awkward about bottle service at Jimmy’z coming via girls with tiny skirts, even though Lando has explained, like, four times by now, that is kind of the point of bottle service.  “Not taking a spin on the decks?” Oscar asks, because he’s secretly fifty years old. 

“Nah, tracks were mid. Not dancing?”

Oscar shoots a look over his shoulder at the increasingly large space around the second prince of Monaco. “Ah, no. Might’ve had a boring race but I don’t need to take my life in my hands.”

And that’s when it happens. The line just materialises in his brain, as instinctive as correcting for understeer. 

Not even with your new daddy? 

He barely gets ahead of it, teeth slamming shut after an inhale. And his brain starts racing, harder than he raced all fucking weekend. He’s got a rep for saying stupid shit off the cuff, but this one he thinks about. 

Maybe he says it, and Oscar snorts and drinks his beer, plays it off with a joke about his brother Leo, his uncle Arthur, whatever six new permutations of the joke have evolved as everyone with so much as a sniff at a paddock pass gets shitfaced in the same club.

Maybe he says it, and Oscar’s eyes widen, too taken aback to laugh, but weirded out, and there’ll be a few stilted messages before Montreal wipes the slate clean. And Lando will play things straight, in all senses, til at least summer break.

Maybe he says it, and Oscar’s freckles disappear into the flush across his cheeks. He’ll dart another look back at Charles, shove his beers into Lando’s reach, and stride across the dancefloor to Charles and Carlos and Pierre. He’ll get his hands on Charles’ shoulders to steady him, when he beams back drunk and sloppy, and he’ll share some twist on Lando’s joke, wry and quiet and yet perfectly clear over the thump of what is objectively a mid remix. And Charles will listen and blink as the words leak through to what little remains of his conscious brain six hours after the fucking win of his life. Maybe then he’ll laugh, so loud Lando can hear it, and Carlos and Pierre too, and Oscar will look back at him and grin and sure, the remix is mid, but Lando kinda wants to dance actually. 

Maybe Charles won’t laugh. Because that’s another set of odds - Charles isn’t going home alone, he’s going to slip-stagger through the streets that love him in someone’s arms, maybe many someones. Maybe Charles won’t laugh, but he’ll hook a sweaty elbow round the back of Oscar’s neck, and get a grip in Oscar’s hair, and they’ll dance like they just got 1-2 in Monaco. Lando will be stuck in the fucking booth watching as Charles’s bracelets catch the lights when he winds his arms round Oscar’s neck, catch the flash of the stupid sponsor watch when Oscar puts a steady hand on his waist. And he can’t read lips, can’t know, but Oscar will lean close to say something in Charles’ ear, and Lando will know it’s “Daddy” a few hundredths before Charles gasps.  And it’ll be too public, Jimmy’z on a fucking GP Sunday, Carlos might let Charles burn alive but Pierre’ll keep it clean, but Lando will know, Charles will know, Oscar will know - il predestinato and the rookie who could, on a fucking collision course. 

Or maybe Charles won’t laugh, and he’ll get a grip in Oscar’s hair, and Oscar will lean close, and Pierre will steer them to the door, pull in George and Alex to run interference, because they understand appearances, and Charles will take Oscar back to his flat, the only place any of them have in Monaco that feels truly like a home (no offence to Kelly, but her decorating is straight out of Pinterest’s Most Wanted). Oscar’ll fit there, among the knick knacks and family photos and all the shit Charles still has because he didn’t move every six months of his teens; Oscar’ll earnestly compliment some quilt or throw that was made by Charles’ 107-year-old grandmother and Charles’ll look at him with those huge doe eyes, and the fog of alcohol will clear but the intent will still be there, hot and possessive. Maybe Oscar doesn’t need to call him daddy now because Charles is smart enough to see a trophy when it’s in his hands. So he’ll press him up against his piano because what neighbour is going to complain about noise the night Monaco’s man won the GP, even if chords turn to the half-shouts of a beautiful boy being fucked out, the squeak of sweat-soaked skin on polished ebony. Lando will wake up with his mouth tasting like death and a short message letting him know he’ll be alone on the McLaren jet, unless he offers George a lift, and he’ll have to decide what’s worse, styling it out or feeling George look at him every few minutes, long fingers on the executive-suite sick bag they hide down the side of the seat. 

But maybe Charles will laugh, and Pierre will laugh, but Carlos won’t. Carlos’s jaw will work like he’s taking a grid place penalty for a racing incident, and then he will laugh, but low, mocking. Osc’ll turn, already annoyed, shoulders rising, but Carlos will drop a lazy hand on the nape of his neck and squeeze as he gestures with the other, back and forth, a two-fingered point and shake at Charles, then tapping twice on his own chest for emphasis. He’ll tug Oscar in closer, and there’ll be some of their usual animosity in it, too much strength, Oscar’s chin tilted forwards. Carlos will set his mouth against Oscar’s ear and say “he can’t be your daddy”, or whatever, the smooth operator equivalent, except Carlos is never smooth, just raw and fucked up and hot enough to blast through anyone’s higher brain function. So Oscar will follow when Carlos saunters out, and only someone who knows him well will be able to see beyond that blank expression that he’s practically shellshocked. Carlos won’t notice; Carlos will take him to a hotel room, tease him about putting him on his knees in the parking garage, in the elevator, somewhere where the cold could seep through Oscar’s unbearably thin trousers, but only really send him down once they're behind a locked door with plush carpet underfoot, because Carlos is a bit of a bastard but really good at casual, considerate without it coming across as anything so frightening as real feelings. He’ll tell Oscar to say it again, say it until he’s hoarse, and if Oscar chokes on the word that’ll be nothing to Carlos’s dick, not when Carlos has something to prove and three hours of staring at Oscar’s rear wing to motivate him. And Lando won’t fly out alone, but Oscar’ll be quiet and rumpled and he’ll ask for extra lemon in his fucking ice water and that’ll be worse, so much worse. 

So maybe he doesn’t say it. Maybe that’s it, and they dance and they drink and nothing changes. Seventy-eight laps and he finishes where he started, Oscar one position out of reach. 

Or. 

Or he says it, and Oscar says, “What.”

He says it, and Oscar says, “Sorry, repeat that?”

He says it, and Oscar says, “I don’t think you want me calling Charles daddy.”

He says it, and Oscar says, “Say that again. No, just the last word. Say it to me.”

And Lando will- he’ll- he’s going to-

His race stutters out. He blinks, and the mid remix hits the chorus again. 

Oscar’s looking at him, a half smile on his face. Slightly expectant, like he’s learnt to anticipate one of Lando’s jokes. 

Lando opens his big fat mouth. 

[passivenovember]

Through the open window, Billy’s tussled curls drape around a squirming body. 

Steve can hear laughter. High and bright like Christmas bells, nailing his sneakers to the road. A child’s giggle dances lightly around the aching baritone of someone who must be Billy. 

Laughing.

Steve’s never heard Billy laugh before, but he is. Giggling right alongside a tiny blonde girl, her chubby, soft fingers tangled in his hair. 

It’s so sweet.

Steve never thought Billy was capable of something like that. Laughter and honey-crisp cheeks and a gentle hold on Holly Wheeler, of all kids, giggling harder when Billy tickles her fingers and says, “C��mon, brat, loosen that death-grip, yeah?”

“No,” Holly shouts, descending into feverish giggles when Billy tickles the side of her overalls, instead, “Soft, it’s soft!”

“Well, there won’t be any left if you don’t let go. You’re gonna scalp me if you’re not careful.”

At the promise that Billy’s hair might fall out or sink back into his scalp like a slurped up spaghetti noodle, Holly lets go all at once, and topples back onto the couch in a fit of laughter. 

Billy rubs the side of his head. “I think I’ve got a bald spot, kid,”

“What’s scalp-thing?” Holly wonders. She’s sitting next to Billy on the couch, now, only the tops of her fountain pigtails showing through the window. 

From the street, sweating in his gym clothes, eyes squinted against the piercing sun, Steve sees red on Billy’s cheeks and across his nose, seeping like spilled neon matter.

“Uh,” Billy says intelligently. He runs both hands through his hair, plucking a pink scrunchie from his wrist to pull the curls off his face. He looks younger, like this. Sweet. His ears stick out farther than Steve ever imagined, he’s got.

Dumbo ears. 

“This isn’t an appropriate conversation,” Billy admits. 

“Why not?”

“Well, it’s kind of violent. And scary. And I don’t think your mom would like it if I told you and gave you scary dreams for the next few months.”

Holly’s mouth sets into a firm, unyielding line. “I’m a big girl,” She says. Harsh.

Scathing. 

A little bit of Nancy and Billy, too. Their weird personality child.

Billy shifts uncomfortably on the couch, tucking his feet under himself. “I know, kid. Some other time, okay? We’ll get a book from the library and read it when you’re fifteen.”

Holly laughs again, “You won’t be my babysitter when I’m fifteen,” She says.

And if Steve wasn’t mistaken, jogging through a neighborhood fifteen blocks from his own just for the chance to see Billy Hargrove through an open window on a Saturday and then peering through that open window like a creep, he’d swear Billy looks regretful of that. 

Sad, almost. 

“You’re right,” Billy says. When Holly’s eyes go big and watery, Steve knows she was hoping to be told the opposite. Clued in on some secret thing only grown ups and Billy’s know about. 

“When I’m fifteen,” Holly says brightly, “I’m gonna have a boyfriend.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yeah huh!”

“Nu-uh,” Billy sing-songs. He tugs on the end of Holly’s pigtail, smirking. “I won’t be your babysitter but I’ll be around. So if any dumb boys forget to watch their step I can make ‘em sorry.”

Holly swats his hand away, “If you’re mean to my boyfriend I’ll stomp on your foot.”

Billy’s smirk melts, slowly, into a warm, pleasant smile. “You wouldn’t do the same for me?”

“When you get a boyfriend?” Holly asks, small and curious, and. 

Steve’s lurked on this street hundreds of times since Billy moved to town. He’s driven by long after midnight, parked down the block and wrestling with the glimmering dream of sneaking through Billy’s window.

He’s watched the sunlight bronze Billy’s hair in the cafeteria at school. He’s counted the freckles that dust Billy’s cheeks when his head is bent over a notebook. Steve would know the wrinkle of Billy’s lips from a hundred yards away, down the block, on the aluminum surface of another planet. His heart has grown three sizes every time Billy laughs at one of his jokes--

Steve’s never felt like he was spying on Billy, before. Like he was crossing some unspecified boundary.

But Holly Wheeler takes Billy’s silence as admission, and she says, “You could kiss Steve if you wanted to,” Like she’s done the math. Crunched the numbers. 

Steve feels like the ground has been pulled out from under him. 

He shivers, watching Billy’s face for the encroaching panic that’s sure to come with anyone, even a child, seeing him so clearly. 

Instead, Billy tils his head back and chuckles. His Adams apple bobs three times, and Steve wants to kiss it. Bite it. Swallow that laugh down inside himself to keep warm. 

“Oh yeah?” Billy rights himself, grinning, “How do you know that?”

“He’s standing outside,” Holly says, and. 

And she points. 

At Steve.

Billy’s head whips toward the window, and a lot of things happen at once. First, they lock eyes and Steve’s pretty sure Angels are singing. Billy’s so beautiful and surprised and Steve loves him. 

Aches. 

Billy’s flush is back, painting the world raspberry, and for half a second he looks like he’s going to smile. 

Steve’s heart cracks open, but then Billy’s furious.

“Harrington?” Billy snaps, and he’s a mad dog. A snapping pit. A bloodhound pausing only when Steve trips over himself, pathetically, to hide behind a tree. 

“Steve--”

Steve bangs a kneecap on the bark and feels the first few layers of skin tear away. He presses in close to the tree trunk, holding his breath. Maybe, if Steve suffocates to death, Billy won’t find him.

“Don’t be sad, Billy!” Holly Wheeler’s shouting, “Don’t be sad, Steve won’t hurt you. He’s nice. He’s a prince. He’s Ken and you’re Barbie--”

“Stay here a minute okay, kiddo?”

“You’re not upset, are you?” Holly wonders quietly. 

There’s a long, lengthy pause, and Billy’s slamming through the front door. 

Steve’s going to die today, and he’ll deserve it.

He considers making a run. He peers down the street, trying to memorize the sunlight on the pavement and the wind in the oaks so when the cops find his body his spirit can lead them to the source--

Billy steps in front of the sun. “Harrington,” He says calmly, “You have three seconds to tell me what the fuck you’re doing here.”

And. 

Steve’s brain must be offline, preparing itself for what’s to come. Because all Steve can see are the little curls escaping the scrunchie that holds Billy’s hair back.

“I wanted to see you.”

“Why,” Billy snaps, jaw working, and. 

Steve knows that he doesn’t want to fly off the handle. Not in front of Holly. That detail gets blood coursing through him. Makes him brave. 

“Because my day is shit if I don’t get to see you. At least once,” Steve says. If he’s going to die he might as well speak the truth. He pushes off the tree-trunk, realizing for the first time that the headphones around his neck are still playing Tears for Fears.

Billy stares at him, shocked, “You can’t be here.”

“I know.”

“Do you have any idea how fucking creepy this is?”

“I wanted to see you,” Steve says, mouth full of cotton, “I had to see you--

“Stop saying that dumb fucker shit. My dad--” Billy grits. He peers around the tree trunk, smiling flatly at the little girl who’s probably trying to see through bark. 

“Shit,” Billy scrubs a hand over his face. Five seconds later, his eyes well with tears. Billy’s in threadbare sweatpants and a Winnie the Pooh crop top. He’s got sandals on. Battered old Birkenstocks, and. 

“You look really beautiful,” Steve says, feeling like he just ran a hundred miles to get here. 

He did, in a way. 

“I’m babysitting.”

“I didn’t realize you did that,” Steve says. Sounds hopelessly in love.

And he’s not sure what’s written all over his face. What wrinkles his forehead that gets Billy to deflate anger, like a punctured balloon. He’s such a brilliant, special person. Every layer Steve peels away just springs another.

“She’s right,” Steve says. Transparent under the weight of Billy’s eyes. “Holly. She’s right.”

“Usually is,” Billy mumbles. “Kid’s a Wheeler, y’know?”

Steve shuffles forward, stopping cold with Billy glares at him. Steve splays his hands, wide and innocent. 

Billy’s panting, chest heaving as Steve takes another, tentative step. 

“I’m only here for a minute,” Steve mutters, eyes caught on the prickle of Billy’s mustache. “Just a minute and I’ll go.”

“Steve--”

Steve kisses him. Everything he’s felt and known and wanted to say for months, fed right into Billy’s clever, strong mouth. 

It isn’t until a little girl giggles,  grass crinkling under he sneakers, that they realize Holly Wheeler didn’t stay put.

[softmiso]

you make loving fun | wolfstar

🦊 kinktober day 15: teasing (ft. my take on 5+1 things, also techically there's foot stuff? but like don't let that deter you it's so subtle, just thought i'd mention it)

🥮 other details: nsfw/18+, ~1k words

🍁 cross-posted on ao3

Strike One

Sirius awoke, feeling hotter than usual. Not only was the sun beating down on his skin through the window, but he was also fully covered by his and Remus’ shared duvet. Remus, on the other hand, was completely uncovered. Odd sight, Sirius noted. Usually, Remus was the one to hog the duvet at night, stating that he ‘ran cold’ and that Sirius should ‘have more sympathy.’

But alas, there lay Remus, sun kissing his scars and freckles beautifully. Naturally, Sirius’ eyes trailed down, only to be met by Remus’ unclothed body. Another odd sight, thought Sirius, not unwelcome though. Remus tended to sway more on the shy side when it came to his body. He further enjoyed wearing his oversized jumpers, even well into the summer.

Now, despite these oddities, Sirius was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Gently, he made his way to Remus’ side of the bed—hand landing on his waist, and lips finding his shoulder.

Remus woke with a smile.

Strike Two

The two had had a slow start to their morning, lazing around in bed for a good part of it, before making their way to the kitchen. Remus set to making breakfast, as Sirius made them their respective cups of tea and coffee.

Remus ended up making simple, but delicious, bowls of yogurt topped with granola, berries, and honey. They ate calmly. That is, until Remus finished his bowl, taking his good old time to savour every last bite. Sirius could not look away from the way his boyfriend’s berry-stained lips wrapped around his spoon. Wonder what they’d look like wrapped around my—

“Right, well!” Sirius spoke, voice just a tad too high. “I’m, uh, gonna go get ready.”

Remus watched as his boyfriend left the kitchen in a hurry, not missing the slight bulge in his pyjama bottoms.

Strike Three

After breakfast, they headed into town, Remus stating that he wanted to find a muggle book a coworker had recommended. Remus, also, just so happened to be wearing Sirius’ favourites of his pullovers. This didn’t go unnoticed.

As they weaved their way in and out of second-hand bookstores, Remus’ hand would brush Sirius’ every now and then. Inconspicuous enough to fly under the radar of fellow shoppers, but enough to make a warmth spread across Sirius’ skin.

With each touch, Remus smiled to himself.

Strike Four

After a few more shops, and a quick stop in a café, the duo found themselves in an old bookstore on the edge of town. It had three stories and was filled to the brim with books dating back farther than Sirius could imagine.

The top floor was where Remus found his book, eyes lighting up at the discovery. When those eyes found Sirius’ own, however, they lit up with something different.

After checking to make sure they were alone, Remus crowded Sirius into a corner, hand weaving its way into his darker locks. Remus’ lips brushed against the other’s cheek, in what seemed to be an innocent-enough touch. Sirius was then taken by surprise as Remus’ touch migrated, lips now on his earlobe. The bugger. Sirius’ earlobes were among his most sensitive spots. Remus knew this, and he knew it well.

Usually, Remus would nip at Sirius’ earlobe playfully, earning anything from a whine to a moan. This time, though, he pulled away just as Sirius’ eyes had fluttered closed.

“Should go pay, eh, Siri?” Remus spoke in a sickeningly sweet tone.

Strike Five

It was now evening, and the sun has long since disappeared from the sky. Remus had been deeply engrossed in his books, eyes barely leaving the pages since they had gotten home. He sat with his feet in Sirius’ lap, who was sat at the opposite end of the couch. Sirius scribbled away in his journal, chronicles of the past few days, fragments of songs, and doodles filling the pages.

Sirius nearly messed up his drawing when he felt a foot brush up against his crotch. He tried to ignore it, thinking that Remus had probably just outstretched his foot absentmindedly. He was proven wrong at the second touch.

Sirius could feel himself growing harder and harder by the minute. When he looked up, expecting a smirking Remus, he was met by the other man’s flat expression as he continued to read his book.

When Sirius looked away, Remus couldn’t help but to let the corners of his mouth twitch upwards.

The Final Straw

Sirius was in front of the washroom mirror, brushing his teeth as he readied himself for bed. His mind had grown foggy as the night went on, and he was nearly falling asleep mid-brush. Nearly. He started to think back on the day—Remus’ sleeping figure in the morning, the spoon incident, Remus’ fleeting touches in town, the bookstore situation, Remus’ wandering foot on the couch—

In walks Remus, expression innocent as ever. They make eye contact in the mirror, and Sirius swears he sees a flicker of something in Remus’ eyes. He spits out the remainder of the toothpaste, rinsing the toothbrush and putting it away. Almost as if on cue, Remus’ hands grip Sirius’ waist, whose suspicions were now being confirmed. They were truly confirmed, then, when he felt Remus’ bulge press up against his backside.

“Oh, you little tease.” Sirius spun around, hands landing on Remus’ shoulders. Finally, Remus let a smile break out across his face as Sirius pushed him towards the door. Sirius’ hand migrated to his partner’s chin, holding him in place as their lips grew closer. It was now Remus’ turn to let his eyes shut slowly, but they snapped open when Sirius’ touch disappeared. His gaze landed on Sirius’ retreating figure, as the other man left the washroom.

“’Night, love!” Sirius called, now down the hall.

The cheeky fucker.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

[greyfrey3]

domesticity, pro heroes, bk & dk trying to remain anon and it does not go well, fluff 

There’s an unusual buzz in the grocery store tonight. 

Typically, any kind of energy this late is unheard of. Most people just slog through their daily chore, too exhausted by the odd hour to notice much other than the food items in front of them. Katsuki is one of those people, drowsy and fatigued. But he’s also a pro hero, highly attuned to subtle shifts in the environment around him. It’s why he can anticipate villain attacks sometimes without even looking. It’s why, right now, he’s dragged out of his half-awake stupor, suddenly perking up.

Something is amiss. It’s like a hum of energy in the air—he can sense it but can’t nail down its source. It takes him a few minutes more than normal to place it. That fact alone puts him on edge. But when he realizes what’s happening, he switches to downright irritated.

“Honey, honey! You’ll never believe this!” A woman passes by him, whispering urgently to her boyfriend. “Hero Deku is shopping in the next aisle!”

“What? Really?? How do you know?”

“Yeah, how do you know?!” Katsuki demands, wheeling on them. His tone is far more annoyed than the other man’s, but not enough to scare the couple off.

“I saw his face!” she squeals, excitement making her eyes shine.

Katsuki slams the bag of rice noodles down into his basket, too loud for a sleepy grocery store. An aisle over, he hears a familiar voice squeak.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah!” she gushes. “He’s got those freckles and dimples and everything!”

Katsuki snaps, “What a dumbass!” and slams another bag on top of the first.

The couple blinks at him before slowly turning towards each other, choosing to ignore him simultaneously. They continue their hushed, lively exchange without Katsuki. But that’s fine by him, he’s got an idiot to strangle.

When he rounds the corner of the next aisle, his husband practically runs into him.

Crimson eyes glare at him, suspicious. “You were seen.”

Izuku goes to scratch his cheek but is blocked by his mask. He drops his hand to his side, clearing his throat nervously. “I was? That’s so strange, Kacchan!”

“I told you to keep a low profile.”

“I am!” The Number One hero insists. “Look! My disguise is still in place.”

He adjusts his ballcap, pulling it lower over his bright eyes. It partially covers his vibrant green hair too. Overall, it doesn’t do much to hide that unique color… except now that Izuku has cemented his place in the Top Ten, many people have dyed their own hair to imitate him. Everywhere Katsuki turns these days, he sees green. That alone shouldn’t be enough to give him away.

Katsuki narrows his eyes, noting the sweat beading on Izuku’s brow. They got off shift a while ago, and it’s not that hot out. He’s also shifting his gaze away from him, refusing to meet his eyes. If he was wearing a sign right now, it would flash ‘GUILTY.’

But, of what?

“Izuku—“ As he starts to interrogate him, the couple from before pops around the opposite corner, watching them curiously. He doesn’t want to attract their attention, so he waves Izuku away. “—go get the fish. I’ll meet you there.”

He waits until Izuku is around the corner before addressing the couple. “Not him,” he declares, watching their faces fall before he goes back to his own shopping.

Katsuki thought that would be the end of it. But then, a few minutes later, he hears another remark. This time it’s a worker, muttering under their breath. When he checks on Izuku, his husband shrugs sheepishly, but admits nothing.

When Katsuki’s picking out vegetables, he overhears an older lady chattering excitedly into her phone about Hero Deku. But the other hero just shakes his head in confusion when Katsuki corners him in the dairy section.

“They’re recognizing you somehow!” Katsuki hisses. He’s not opposed to fan interactions, but the hour is late and they’re both bone weary with exhaustion. All he wants to do right now is go home, slap together some stir-fry and call it a day.

…And his silly husband better not screw up their plans.

“I’m being careful!” Izuku squeaks. They’re close enough that Katsuki doesn’t miss the extra open and close of his jaw. Like he’s chewing something.

“What are you eating?”

“N-nothing!” Izuku turns bright red, backing up quickly. “I’m gonna go grab the frozen peas!”

He manages to stumble over a box of packaged chips, sending a few scattering down the aisle.

“Can you get those, Kacchan?!” he yelps, directing his request over his shoulder as he practically sprints away from Katsuki.

…this guy. Katsuki pinches his brow, managing to tamp down his knee jerk reaction to throw the nearest hard object at him. He could knock him down and interrogate him, forcing out whatever he’s trying to hide. But that will definitely draw unwanted attention. Besides, he can always just follow the dweeb.

He takes his time cleaning up and meandering to where Izuku is supposed to be, giving his idiot husband plenty of time to assume that he’s safe. Along the way, he eavesdrops on two more customers, both raving about spotting the green-haired hero.

He does so himself minutes later when he’s tailing him through the frozen food section.

“Sir, would you like a sample?” A blue-aproned worker asks him. She’s standing at the end of the aisle, behind her tray of warmed up pastries.

Katsuki watches in shock—a feeling that quickly morphs into outrage—as Izuku glances around, making sure the coast is clear. Then he lowers his mask and grins. “Sure!”

That idiot!!! is all Katsuki can think as he stomps angrily towards him. He’s absolutely going to throttle him!

“Ah! Kacchan!” Izuku yelps when he spots him. And then in a move that makes Katsuki’s eyes nearly bug out of his head, he stuffs whatever he’s holding into his mouth in one bite.

Katsuki is on him in an instant, practically wrestling him in the middle of the store. “What are you eating?!”

“No’ fing!”

He has to squeeze Izuku’s jaw to force his mouth open, much like he does to their puppy waiting for them at home. When he does, he instantly recognizes the sight and smell of crispy puff pastry and seared meat.

“You’re eating a CORN DOG?!”

Izuku swallows quickly as Katsuki releases him from the headlock. Their fight is far from over as he straightens up, fixing watery green eyes on him. It’s a below the belt hit—Katsuki is weak to that expression, and Izuku knows it.

“Kacchan!” he whines. “It was just one corn dog. A sample. How could I say no?”

“It’s horrible for you!” Katsuki counters. “Loaded with preservatives and carbs that you don’t need!”

Izuku’s plump bottom lip quivers. What a cheap ploy. “You never let me eat any of my favorite stuff.”

Katsuki’s heart feels like it’s been stabbed when Izuku looks at him like that. It rivals something Smol Might (their mixed breed puppy) might pull after he makes a mess on the carpet.

“That’s because it’s all bad for you,” Katsuki counters. But he’s not telling the entire truth.

The real reason is because he didn’t make it for Izuku—someone else did. The kitchen is Katsuki’s kingdom, and he wears his crown with pride. He shops, preps, cooks and plates every scrap of food that goes into Izuku’s mouth. He relishes in it, enjoying every moment. And not just because he loves to cook.

It’s because he loves Izuku unconditionally, and because he wants to take care of him for the rest of their lives.

Lives that’ll go without corn dogs, thank you very much.

“Pretty please, Kacchan?” Izuku begs. Katsuki grabs his husband’s mask where it’s dangling under his chin.

“No,” Katsuki tells him, much softer than before. The dumbass really can toy with his heartstrings when he tries.

Katsuki presses their lips together in an apologetic kiss. When he backs away, he tugs Izuku’s mask sharply, elastic band snapping it back into place.

“Aww…”

“Go grab some beef. We have what we need at home. I’ll make my own version,” Katsuki orders succinctly, compromising. If Izuku wants to eat junk, he can eat Katsuki’s healthier version of it.

“Yay!” Practically skipping away, Izuku drops the sad act, happiness restored.

When Katsuki passes by the sample lady as he follows the love of his life, she asks him, “Was that…? And you’re…?”

In exchange for her silence, he autographs the box of corn dogs. The things he does for Izuku…



/end reposting some old drabbles

[pillowbo]

Tim never knew he could become corrupted this way, but here he is, at the whim of his sub's desires. Joselin lays, spread eagle on his sheets, bound by rope.

Having the superhuman ability of botanokinesis means he can manipulate any plant material. He became a freak of nature, after an expedition that he certainly wouldn't tell her about, altered his DNA, and thus he could rope her up so tight she couldn't move an inch against his bed in an instant.

They both lock eyes, Dom and sub. Despite his overwhelming power, they both know which one is in total command, that the man standing is the one bound under the other's total constraint.

"Come here, straddle me," she almost whispers.

Her voice is like honey, so gentle and soft, Tim does as he is told without hesitation. The warmth of her thighs on his makes him melt as the blond positions himself atop her, making him want so badly to sink down into her heat.

"Stay right there," she says sharply. "Just like that," her voice smooths over, "I just want to look at you."

A soft whimper catches at the back of the man above's throat.

She has already made him edge himself for over an hour while she lay there watching.

His cunt is throbbing under the wooden strap she had him masturbate with, the bulb of which is burning inside of him as it buries a little deeper when he crouches down.

His strap puts further pressure on his cunt and tdick, heavy and hot between his legs as it presses against her mons. The shock of pleasure draws a feverish whine from Tim when she ruts up against it.

"Please Josie, I can't-"

"Be quiet," she cuts him off.

She swallows, her pupils dilated as they roam his small yet quite formidably powerful body. The two fought many times. She isn't fooled by his tiny stature or cute freckles now.

They are both, perhaps for lack of better labeling in their cruel world, monsters. But they are each other's monsters, and so there must be some good in what they have.

She is on the side against humanity, after all, the side of good. Anything short of vehement opposition, thus including his neutrality, makes them mortal enemies, but that doesn't mean they can't bang one out once in a while.

"Your begging is pathetic," she says.

He growls, rutting against her slowly. That little bit of stimulation, after an hour of being edged to the brink, is nearly enough. His blush blooms up his cheeks as his breaths come out ragged.

"Tim, don't you fucking dare come," Joselin warns.

The man blows a slow breath out, his petite nose flaring.

"Come on, brat. I already ate you out five times just let me in!" he whines.

She snorts.

"Beg for it," she says lowly.

The reluctant crease between his brow makes her laugh fully. Her hair stuck in red strands against her sweat-soaked forehead, already spent and satisfied, but never tiring of those sweet, desperate moans.

"But you just said it was pathetic," he groans.

She smiles deviously and her hips sway.

"Please?" He blinks his eyes, pressing their foreheads together, gracing her cheeks tenderly. "Please," he says again.

Joselin giggles.

"Okay, you goof."

He wastes not another second, sinking his strap in her and fucking them both into a senseless frenzy. She loves the look on his face as he loses control, an animal despite his odd classification.

Tim fucks her hard into the bed and groans loudly, spilling like a geyser within moments of this much-needed stimulation, and it's enough to make both of them come hard together.

He sinks down panting, rolling off of her. Tim snaps, and the bondage is broken. Joselin wheezes and laughs from the serotonin high, and rolls her wrists as she is let free.

She appreciates the moment between them, that he would let her so near him unrestrained while still so vulnerable. They just lay there, until he gets up and snaps, and both of them are dressed again.

Like nothing happened.

He lights a cigar.

"So, same time next week?" he asks through a puff of smoke.

"Sure, if neither of us ends up dead by then," she sighs.

They pass the cigar back and forth, sharing the smoke and dragging out the moment of trust for a little while.

@bughugz Sadistic sub x soft Dom featuring my characters hope you enjoy it.

[poly-pan-0118]

Devour

Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya IzukuBakugou Katsuki/Kirishima EijirouBakugou Katsuki/Todoroki ShoutoMidoriya Izuku/Todoroki ShoutoKirishima Eijirou/Todoroki Shouto

Curiosity gets the best of Shouto and Midoriya while out on a movie date. Words:2624

Kirishima and Bakugou are vampire lovers out on the hunt. They make it their trade to look for other couples, take them back to their place and after a night of absolutely mind blowing sex that two humans could ever experience, they drink them dry and dispose of their bodies. Both men have been doing this now for centuries, so they know how to cover their tracks pretty well. One night at a movie theater, Bakugou notices a young man with the most stunning emerald eyes with a head full of green curls to match. Kirishima notices Bakugou staring and watches as the green haired man's companion comes to sit next to him. It’s another young man with red and white hair and when he catches the two strangers staring, Bakugou lets out a gasp as he watches two different eye colors trained on him. One Gray, one a beautiful Cyan Blue. Kirishima and Bakugou give each other a knowing look. The room is sparsely occupied and surrounded in darkness, the only light coming from the screen. The movie is half way through its plot when the vamps begin with their plan. Sitting near the far back, the only other patrons to have a view of them are the two young men the vampires picked to be their audience tonight. The smell of buttery popcorn and sex hang in the stale air as wet lips smacking and moans drowns out the sounds of the movie. Bakugou, knowing both men were watching now, decides to put on a show for them. He sinks to his knees as Kirishima pulls out his massive sized cock and slaps it against Bakugou’s lips. Kirishima lets out a moan as his lover swallows him. Hearing the two men gasp, he tilts his neck and smiles at them, a pointy sharp toothed grin adorning his face. He makes eye contact with the two toned man and doesn't break away as he pushes Bakugou’s head further down, causing him to produce a loud gagging sound in return. 

Kirishima lets out a loud growl as he cums down Bakugou’s throat, but before he could swallow fully, the redhead grabs his cheeks firmly pulling him in close and kissing him. Bakugou hears one of the men moan under their breath and he smirks into the kiss his partner has yet to let up from. “Midoriya, we should…” The heterochromic man started to say, but Midoriya was one step ahead of him. Standing up, he grabbed his partner's hand. “We should go Shouto.” As they gathered their things and tried to inconspicuously adjust themselves, they looked back over to where the other men were sitting only to find them already gone.  Both Shouto and Midoriya looked at each other to silently ask the same question. How the hell did they get past without either of them noticing? Shaking their heads they disposed of their trash and exited the building. Once outside, they started making their way back to their vehicle when lo and behold, leaning against the building's wall, were both men from inside the theater. “How..?” Shouto asked as he stood frozen in place. The redhead just chuckled and started walking in the opposite direction. Bakugou stared at the couple for a minute then turned to follow. “What’s going on Shouto?” Midoriya asked as he nervously held onto Shouto’s arm. He had no answers for his beloved as he stared down into his emerald orbs. “Oi!’” Bakugou barked out, catching the two men's attention. “You coming?” He asked as he opened the car door. Giving Midoriya’s hand a tight squeeze, Shouto walked towards Bakugou, pulling the man along with him. “Are we really doing this?” Midoriya whispered. Bakugou pretended not to hear, but of course he did and he couldn't help the smirk that graced his face. He was beginning to like this small human with freckles.

Shouto was directed to sit in the front with Kirishima driving and Bakugou sat Midoriya in the  back with him. As the car made its way through town Kirishima could smell the nervous excitement coming from the two men. It made his mouth salivate and his dick throb. Fuck, he was gonna enjoy this. Blood tastes the sweetest the more scared the prey was. Bakugou sat close to Midoriya and put his hand on the man's knee, feeling him tense up. Bakugou just smirked, letting his fingers travel further up his thigh. Oh, he was gonna have fun with this one. Finally, the car came to a stop in front of a huge house and Kirishima and Bakugou got out of the car. Remaining in the backseat, Midoriya wondered if they were really going to go through with this. He knows why they were brought here. He may be a little bit naive, but he is not dumb. Bakugou clicked his tongue. He didn't care how cute Midoriya was, he had very little patience. When all four men entered the huge foyer, Shouto took in his surroundings. The front of the house kind of reminded him of his family home. It was spacious, but not over the top. Massive vault ceilings and large windows that seemed to have a tinted film to them. Great energy saving idea he thought. As Midoriya gazed around like Shouto, he was suddenly startled when he felt a body pressing against his back and hot breath on his neck. “Uhh..” Midoriya stuttered looking at Shouto but before he could say anything to calm his lover down, Kirishima entered his view wearing a tiny smirk on his face. He raised a hand to glide under Shouto’s strong jawline, letting two fingers gingerly graze along the pulse on his neck. Kirishima licked his lips as he looked over at Bakugou then back at Shouto. “Shall we?” He said, grabbing Shouto’s hand and pulling him towards the stairs. Bakugou didn't say anything as he pulled Midoriya to follow him. He could hear his heart beating hard and fast as he led the man up the stairs; he could have sworn it was gonna bust out of the man's chest when they followed Kirishima and Shouto to the bedroom. 

Wouldn't that be a sight to see? Bakugou thought to himself, All that blood. Bakugou let out a low growl as he palmed himself. “Now, now Katsuki,” Kirishima said with a chuckle, stepping over to him. “Let's not get too ahead of ourselves.”  He gave Bakugou a soft but passionate kiss, then walked over to a bar in the corner of the room and poured some drinks. Bakugou gestured with his head for the two men to follow. Drinks given, Kirishima raised his glass. “A toast,” he said, staring at Shouto.. He really was a sap for beautiful eyes. “To new beginnings and new friends.” He said then finished his drink.  As the other three men finished their drinks , Kirishima walked to the bed and began undressing. Holy shit, this is really happening. Midoriya then heard Bakugou scoff as if he could read his mind. “Come.” Kirishima demanded in a soft yet authoritative voice. “Let's all get a bit more comfortable, shall we?" Shouto stood before Kirishima, stoic as ever, and began undressing. Midoriya stood at the edge of the bed. Slack jaw and heart racing as he watched the man he loved now stand naked in front of a complete stranger. Isn't that what he was about to do though? Before he could dwell on it any further, he once again felt a hard body behind him. This time something poked his backside. Taking a big swallow, he heard Bakugou inhale deeply, his nose running along his neck. “Fuck, I want to devour you…” He said in a low raspy voice in Midoriya’s ear. Bakugou’s hands quickly stripped the man of his clothes and his own. Now all four men were naked. Kirishima laid back, pulling Shouto on top of him. Grabbing the man's hips, he dug his nails into his flesh as he ground his hips against him. Midoriya felt his dick twitch and grow as he watched the show his lover put on for him. “Ahhh,” He yelped as he felt Bakugou’s warm huge hands grab his cock. “Aren't you eager.” Bakugou said, licking the shell of his ear. “Look at you, already leaking pre into my hands.” Bakugou lifted his hand to his mouth to lick it, Midoriya’s scent drowning him in lust. “Fuck this slow shit.” He said, swiftly pushing Midoriya down on his back. “I’m taking you now.” 

“Bakugou!” Kirishima growled, displeased with his partner's impatience. “What did I say?!” Before a fight could break out, Midoriya decided to speak. He had to be honest with himself. “It’s okay.” His voice quivered, “I… This is what I want.” Finally seeing his boyfriend give in to his pleasures, Shouto leaned over and kissed him. Bakugou peered over at Kirishima and grinned, then grabbed a handful of Shouto’s hair, yanking the man up to meet him with a searing hot kiss. Midoriya tried to stifle a whimper but Bakugou heard it. “You needy little shit.” He said, pushing Shouto away and leaning down to kiss Midoriya. It took all his strength not to bite the man's neck. Bakugou thought it would be safer at the moment to focus on something else so he slowly kissed his way down Midoriya’s chest. The tip of Bakugou’s tongue felt like a hot poker, slowly but teasingly running along his skin, like he was being flayed alive. Bakugou’s mouth stopped at Midoriya’s weeping cock and peered up at those big round green eyes. With a grin, Bakugou flattened his tongue and slowly ran it from the base up. Stopping at the dark red, engorged tip and circling the head. He flicked his tongue along the slit, lapping up all the precum his dick was weeping. “You taste so fucking good, I need more.” Bakugou hummed with need. “So much more.”  Midoriya let out a loud gasp followed by a low moan as he watched the blonde below fully swallow him. Wet and lewd gagging sounds filled the room as Kirishima still took his time with Shouto. He took pleasure in kissing him. His hands roaming all over the smaller man's body, admiring every inch. Kirishima ran a hand down Shouto’s back causing the man to shutter and moan. Another hand cupped his cheek. “Open that pretty mouth for me.” He spoke softly as he gently rubbed Shouto’s bottom lip with his thumb. Kirishima slid two fingers past parting lips and pressed down on Shouto’s tongue. After a minute he pulled them away, leaving a line of saliva clinging from Shouto’s chin. Kirishima quickly made use of his wet fingers and teased his puckered hole. Shouto keened and arched his back leaning in closer to kiss Kirishima again. Bakugou's mouth was full of Midoriya's cock when he locked eyes with his mate. He was growing so needy and desperate, grabbing his own member to stroke himself, feeling his own pre covering his hands as he felt the man beneath him start to shutter. "Fucking cum for me, Don't hold back." Bakugou growled. He used his hand, now covered with his own slick, to play with Midoriya’s little pink hole, gently pushing a finger in. Midoriya let out a loud whimper that made Shouto buck his hips harder onto Kirishima, possessing the man to enter two more fingers. "Oh shit, please" is all Shouto could manage to say as he swallowed hard. "Hmm?" Kirishima laughed under his breath. "Tell me what you want, my delicate little flower." Kirishima loved using pet names. It made his prey oh so much more tender, pliable. Like putty in his hands. "I want you to fuck me. Please." Shouto begged. Hearing this, Bakugou hollowed his cheeks and took Midoriya all the way to the base. Now with two fingers deep inside the emerald hair man, his body began to spasm as he came down Bakugou’s throat. In one swift move, Kirishima sat up and tossed Shouto on his stomach. His huge hands grabbed his hips and pulled them up so his ass was in the air. A big glob of spit landed on Shouto’s ass and Kirishima teased his hole with his angry purple head, so eager to be thrusted deep inside the man's hot cavernous hole. 

“That’s it, keep that pretty little ass in the air for me yeah.” Kirishima demanded. There was no more prepping to be done as he fully sheathed himself inside Shouto, causing the man to cry out. Midoriya snapped his head over to Shouto only to see tears falling from his face as Kirishima held him up to his chest, his hips slapping fiercely against the heterochromatic’s ass. Midoriya groaned and thanked the gods he was flexible as his knees were now pushed to the side of his face. He watched Bakugou slap his tight hole with his angry looking cock. Spreading slobber and remnants of cum he let seep out of his mouth. Bakugou bit the bottom of his lip and his nails digged into the soft flesh of Midoriya’s thighs. With a loud growl and teeth bared, Bakugou thrusted deep inside and started off with a fast and relentless pace. Blissed out of their minds, both Midoriya and Shouto were sobbing messes, both unaware of the two vampires giving each other knowing looks. Kirishima and Bakugou leaned over to kiss, biting each other’s lips and drawing blood. Pulling away from the kiss they both gave a bloody grin and then pulled the man they were fucking’s neck to their mouth, and bit. 

Teeth sunken deep, Bakugou gave three more hard thrust as he came hard. His searing hot seed poured into Midoriya as he drank the sweetest blood he has ever tasted. With a loud pop, he released his lips and took a deep breath. Looking down at the man below him, his eyes fluttering, none the wiser. Hearing another loud gasp, he looked over to see Kirishima pull away from Shouto’s neck. His mouth stained in blood he grabbed his blonde lover for a passionate kiss. Both creatures satiated for the time being, Bakugou looked at Shouto furrowing his eyes. “Is he..?” His voice drifted off as he asked the question. “No.” Kirishima answered quickly. Bakugou scoffed as he looked down at the beautiful human laying under him. Midoriya’s eyes still rolled to the back of his head and his tongue hung out of his mouth, causing Bakugou to smile. “This one is so fucking cute Ei.  I wanna keep him.” He turned to Kirishima, vermilion eyes meeting a darker crimson set. “Of course we can, Kat.” He said, turning to see the same lust blown look on Shouto’s face. There was no way he was gonna dispose of this one. Kirishima wasn't sure if it was the rare look of his eyes and hair or just his own pure selfishness, but he wanted more. “We can keep them both.” Kirishima said, lifting Bakugou’s hands to his bloody lips and placing a soft kiss. “I think they would make perfect pets for us.”

Shouto and Midoriya had absolutely no idea what they had gotten themselves into. What was supposed to be a nice date night at the movies, turned into an evening of sexual curiosity that had now changed their lives forever. Neither of them knew what the future held, but at this exact moment they laid in the bed still reeling in the afterglow from the best orgasms they’ve ever had, they didn't care. If it could always be like this, they didn't care one bit. 

Now if Kirishima and Bakugou could just not get ahead of themselves and go too far…

[elaraju]

Catharsis

A Secret Santa gift to Paz from the Chaeya server. Happy holidays and happy new year! 

His name was that of a tragedy.

His hair would be the color of leaves in autumn, and the shade would share the exact hue of the descending sun over the horizon on a day’s end. Strands of lightness would sway with the wind lighter than the orange he had, and he’d find slender fingers adoring them.

He was fearless and strong. He was powerful and a harbinger of the deity he served. He was loyal at that, and his hands would carry weapons wielded for war and they’d be calloused— but it was still soft to the touch, to the fingertips.

He was tall and he stood firm. His figure towered but unlucky him, he had the same height albeit he stood a little taller. Just an inch, two at most, and that was it. They’d laugh at it all the while the other slightly bent down for their lips to brush one another, taking them as one.

Then his voice would be clear, and his hair unruly.

He’d be a mess: onto a pristine canvas splattered in different colors. He was perfectly single-minded and unrelenting in the onslaught of battle, and he’d be reckless and wild and be free. 

Then his skin would be pale. Adorned with freckles touched by snow. Painted scars in opposition to “not wounded in any of the battles” lathered in what was once crimson.

And gleaming blue eyes. Vast as the ocean— it was the best description one could ever talk about. Deep, alluring. Rich, abysmal.

And he would be a man of tragedy. He was destined for great deeds but they would turn into an inevitable downfall. He was on the path of it.

Because that’s how tragedies worked. Like that tale of one who dared to reach the heavens and the sun… meeting to demise as a resolution. That’s how tragedies end. Sometimes, usually, always. It always ends tragically and there was no exception to it.

And he has seen too much of it. Far, far much. More when you faced the man named Ajax who looked ethereal too in all aspects: his crooked nose, that notable mole on his left cheek, his teasing smirk, that annoying smile, and those stupid jokes he’d give. Awfully made yet they’d find a way to creep into your lips, find a way to your laugh, find a way to be the source of your smile— his smile.

“You are a tragedy,” the man with midnight blue hair would say as calloused hands brush through his strands gently taking them and lacing them through to kiss them.

“I am,” Ajax would reply. And he’d see himself staring into the irises of a sea that could, would swallow him whole.

“Very much,” words easily said as a fact stated and he would close his eye to flutter it open once again, tracing the warrior’s speckled flesh. Then he’d tell him, “We’re almost one of the same, you know.”

In a bed for two, linen sheets ruffled and under the same blanket. The soft sunlight peering through at daybreak through the glass panes of a place oh so dear to them and only the two of them alone. 

It was them who showed everything. Showed their wholeness, showed their existence, showed their parts, showed their tales and stories.

A tragedy and an awaiting one.

“Oh? Really?”

“Yeah.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“But.”

“But do tell.” “You are nothing but a tragedy,” he started. “An upcoming one, a brewing one, an awaiting one. And I am nothing but a remnant of what was once a tragedy, damned from the beginning.”

“And…” He breathed as pecks trailed from his neck to his tanned skin. From his collarbones to his arms;  from his hand, and back to his forehead.

“And I would take you to hell with me.” He kissed his covered eye and set his lip on him as a final say. “Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.”

“You’re damned either way.” 

He kissed back, fingers running through his dark hair to be pulled in closer. Skin pressed, mouths touched, tongues tasted, and the sunlight continued to bask the room as clothes scattered amongst the hardwood floor.

And he would be a beautiful tragedy if poets wrote. And he’d take a quill and ink to be one.

“And if I am a tragedy,” their lips parted but never their gaze, “then what am I to you?”

Ad infinitum he would repeat gazing upon a tragedy. Over and over again he would, and over and over again he wished. Because after all that, Ajax was a tragedy himself.

Kaeya looked at him with gazes that never parted. 

Gleaming blue eyes, ginger hair. Freckled face, painted skin. 

A beautiful tragedy.

He sighed.

“You are my katharsis.”

[yoongle-boongle]

does anyone else use the freckles and moles on people's faces to learn how to tell them apart or is that just me

[wearywinchester]

Unconventional

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When a weekend away from hunting turns out to be the opposite, you make do.

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: angst, injury, blood, swearing, fluff, kissing

It was the weekend. That four, or even five day weekend that was reserved for no hunts. A little slot of time for you and the ones you kept closest to get together and act like you don’t hunt supernatural monsters for a living, to spend the summer season doing what most people do that are oblivious to what’s really out there.

It was supposed to be a little break.

You should’ve known better than to think that’d be one hundred percent true, you should’ve. But you still found yourself rolling your eyes at the simple fact that on the first day, the first day, those brothers caught wind of a case. Couldn’t even go a whole two days without them tracking the scent of another one.

Fortunately it was pretty straight forward, a nasty spirit to be salted and burned with practiced ease at this point. It was easy until there were those few mishaps, ones that were less than ideal.

So now, now instead of doing what you were supposed to do on this little hunter’s break, you were inside Bobby’s cabin with tempers flaring as you dropped your duffel bag on the floor. It was heavy, it’s thud heavier and it wasn’t hard to tell you were upset. Dean picked up on it back at that borderline ridiculous haunted house.

It was very clear to see it with the way you’d had that angry pout, one that you didn’t even know you had going on amongst the frustration brewing within you. Your brows were seemingly permanently furrowed, knit together in a display of your anger and irritation with the older Winchester. He knew he’d gone and pissed you off, that was inevitable with the stunt he pulled and now he’s got to deal with it. And he was fully prepared to.

“That was stupid, Dean,” you say, shrugging out of your dirtied shirt in exchange for a fresh one, a t shirt of Dean’s you snagged right out of his duffel without care that he’d had his hand on it first.

“Think I figured that out the first ten times you said it, sweetheart,” he said, amusement in his tone as he chuckled softly.

The look on your face has his smile disappearing just as quickly as it appeared, his mouth opening and closing as he clears his throat and scratches the back of his neck. Now, he felt like an ass, like some jerk who’s poking the bear.

“I’m glad you think this is funny, Dean,” you say, your angered gaze leaving his as you tuck a corner of his shirt into the denim of your shorts.

Oh yeah, he felt that feeling big time now.

“Y/n—”

“You always do this, Dean!” You interject, his mouth closing as his brows furrow, gripping and fumbling with the shirt in his hand before dropping it completely. “You always throw yourself into whatever danger there is out there to try and be my hero. You get yourself all busted up and bruised just to protect me.”

He scoffs then, quiet as he looks away and shakes his head. “You think I like when you’re chargin’ in to go kick some monster’s ass just to protect me? Of all people, me. Be a little fair here.”

You swallowed thickly, anger mixed with a little pang in your heart that you couldn’t quite place. It was a valid point, one that was detrimental to your argument but that anger, that upset was still very much there. It was a good point but not good enough to make that frustration dissolve. Not as you stood there and looked at him, cut high up on his cheek and just above his eyebrow, blood still smeared just under his freckled nose and framing his top lip.

It wasn’t a solid enough point as you stood there unharmed while he was just the opposite.

“I’m not the one all busted up right now,” you counter, watching as his shoulders slump slightly, watching as his brows furrow deeper and he swallows thickly.

It was your turn to chuckle, humorless as you slipped on your shoes, bending down to zip up your duffel bag with enough force to break it, standing upright once more and you felt his gaze on you. You felt it and confirmed it with a glance in his direction.

He still held that same expression, still held that same stance as he twisted that silver ring around his finger out of absentminded habit. His gaze never left even as you turned away, turned away to leave the room you were sharing and disappear outside. It never left as he reached out and grabbed your hand, successful in keeping you from slipping through the doorway and out of sight.

You exhaled a sigh before you turned to face him after a moment, that look still on his face. He felt bad, he really did. It tore him up inside, tore him to pieces to see you get so upset when he’s hurt for jumping in like that. He hates it, hates to see that frown and that furrowed brow. He doesn’t understand why anyone would get so worked up, would get so wound up in turmoil over him. He doesn’t get it because he couldn’t give less of a crap about himself.

But you do. You do.

So he stands there, your hand still clasped in his calloused palm in the gentlest grip you’d ever seen. He stands there and he looks at you as you try your hardest to avoid his gaze but you just can’t.

You watch as that expression he’s got changes, as it softens to a hint of a smile, faint as ever till it grows. That smile that’s so Dean Winchester you can’t hardly stand it in the best possible way. It widens a fraction, a certain tenderness in his eyes that’s reserved for you, one that he doesn’t even know happens, it just does. Everyone else can see it but the two of you.

It sits pretty on his lips, tempting to get you to break your anger and let it melt away until you forget completely why it was there in the first place.

“What is it?”

You try to ignore those butterflies that look gives you, those stupid butterflies that have no business fluttering around the way they do. You try to ignore them as you just barely maintain your narrowed gaze.

His tongue swipes over his lips, those dimples by the corner of his mouth forming ever so slightly.

“Think you can forgive me just enough to patch me up, sweetheart?” He asks, amusement in his tone yet there’s still all of the sincerity in the world within it.

You look up at him, gaze narrowing just a little bit more. It’s a stare that lingers, flickering back and forth between green eyes, and you try to ignore the way his thumb brushes over your fingers in the looseness of his grip. You try to ignore it so much you pull your hand from his grasp in favor of crossing your arms over your chest briefly. But that smile of his never faltered.

It stayed, it lingered like your stare as he met it without hesitation, those lips of his pursing just enough for those dimples to accompany that grin he’s got going on and it was the most challenging damn thing you’ve ever done trying to keep from returning it with your own. He made you mad sometimes, he made you angry, but it was always unbelievably hard to stay as much for long.

You shook your head, heaving a sigh as you uncrossed your arms and brushed by him. “You’re an idiot, Winchester.”

“I heard that!” He called after you once the words hit him, spinning on his heel.

“Good,” you say, smiling to yourself as you walk towards the small bathroom.

You open the cabinet door under the sink, snagging the first aid kit that resided there before standing back up again and grabbing a washcloth, wetting it at the sink, another sigh leaving your lips when you do. When you came back in the room he’d since taken a seat on the edge of his side of the bed, hands loosely clasped on his lap.

You tossed it down on the bed next to him, opening it up and looking through its contents. You grabbed a few cotton pads and the small bottle of peroxide to start, setting them aside in favor of the dampened washcloth.

You pressed your fingers under his chin, tipping his head back a little bit before resting that hand to settle on his cheek. His stubble was prickly under your palm, the pad of your thumb brushing over the freckles on his cheek briefly.

With an exhale, you lifted the cloth to his face and swiped away the dirt and blood, partially dried and you scrubbed it away with a gentle hand, eyeing the way his brows furrow. You can feel the way his jaw tenses under your palm, his eyes falling closed and you could see the freckles on his eyelids.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he said, bumping you with his knee.

He peeled open an eye to catch that eye roll he knew was bound to make an appearance and he was right. You most certainly rolled your eyes and it had the corners of his mouth quirking upwards, yours too and he knew you weren’t so mad at him at that point.

You turned the rag over to a fresh side, repeating your actions until the dirt had been washed away before tossing it in the hamper. You grabbed the cotton pads next, popping the cap on the peroxide before turning the bottle over and pouring some on to soak them. He wasn’t going to like this part, he hates it every time, you could tell by the way he’d been eying it but he hadn’t said anything.

You patted away at the cut in his cheek, more so a nasty scrape, watching the peroxide bubble over it but you’d seen worse. Your thumb brushed over his other cheek absentmindedly, something you didn’t notice but it was a gesture Dean most certainly did. Something that made him not give a crap about that sting on his face and the way it offered an annoying pain. He noticed.

He saw that furrow in your brows as you worked with gentle movements, careful not to apply too much pressure. He’d gone and made you mad with what he did that day, he’d gone and upset you, but you’d never have been able to tell with how carefully you’d tended to his wounds. You were always like that, always will be and he’s never had someone be so attentive with him in the twenty-six years he’s been alive and kicking.

He saw the way you were biting the inside of your cheek, tongue poking out ever so slightly in undoubted concentration.

You noticed.

You saw those green eyes looking at you, that gaze that’s unknowingly reserved for you. He was looking at you like you were the center of the freaking universe, but to him, you were.

Maybe he wasn’t even aware of it, maybe he was, but that gaze lingered and that smile accompanied it. One that was soft and every bit Dean Winchester. Flirty yet entirely filled with a love he can’t and has never been able to put into words. It may have been absent minded, having been sitting pretty on his lips without even knowing it. But you certainly knew and you saw every bit of it.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask, tone lightheartedly curious as you avert your gaze to look in the kit once more.

You snagged the small band aids you were looking for, hearing the softness of his scoff and returning your gaze to him. You raised your brow, amusement in the action.

“Am I not allowed to look at the prettiest person I’ve ever seen?” He asks, acting as if he were utterly shocked.

You rolled your eyes immediately, shaking your head as you purse your lips. “Not when you’re lying through your teeth, Winchester.”

“That just might be the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said, and trust me, sweetheart, there’s a lot.”

You smack his shoulder lightly, that furrow between your brows returning as you huffed. You shook your head as you discarded the wrapper the bandaid had come in, fighting the smile threatening to appear on your lips and doing a horrible job at it.

“Oh shut it,” you say, stepping away from to put the kit back where it belonged.

The smell of the burgers Bobby’s been grilling outside with Sam and Jody had been wafting in through the open windows, the orange glow of the sunset seeping into the darkening cabin. It was a beautiful day when you stop and think about it, aside from the hunt that morning, aside from the flaring tempers that hadn’t lasted all that long. It was nice out, perfect weather for a little break from hunting.

When you closed the cabinet and headed back into the small bedroom, Dean had just been pulling a fresh shirt over his head, his gaze landing on you once more.

“Thought for sure you’d be scarfing down burgers by now,” you say, your smile in your words as you step closer to him.

That smile of his tugged at the corner of his mouth, soft and sweet, his chuckle falling from his lips.

“C’mere, pretty girl,” he said, tugging you closer by the hand.

You bit the inside of your cheek, running your hands from his shoulders to his chest before settling them there briefly. “Now I know you’re lying.”

“Oh shut it,” he says, dipping down and pressing his lips on yours.

It was soft and sweet, his lips warm and gentle, just the opposite of that stubble of his scratching softly against your chin and just under your nose. But it wasn’t enough to keep you from leaning into his kiss, his arm around your waist as his hand settled on your cheek. He paused briefly, eyes closed before he dipped down once more.

The very tip of his freckled nose bumped against yours, lips brushing over one another against the warmth of his breath fanned over your skin lightly. You hadn’t seen the smile adorning his lips, soft and faint, growing some. You hadn’t seen it but you felt it when he kissed you once, twice, three times more until—

A few crackles sounded, a higher pitched whistle next before some more pops came after it. You knew exactly what it’d been. Fireworks.

“Better head out there before Sammy accidentally sets the cabin on fire,” you say, grinning softly at the older Winchester.

“Mhm,” he hums, lips brushing over yours again. “In just a minute.”

His lips were on yours before you could argue it, something you couldn’t bring yourself to do as your laughter swept against his lips. It’d been an unconventional break from hunting, an unconventional way of spending a summer weekend compared to those who don’t hunt monsters for a living, but it was plenty good enough for you.

—

Taglist: @harrysweasleys @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @elegantbutedgy @campingmonkey @lanea-1 @deandaydreaming @agalliasi @malindacath @ajreturnstocringeyaccount @deanswaywardgirl @awkward-and-indecisive @drownthewitch @happyt0exist @sparkycorleone @humanmistakes @akshi8278 @kidd3ath @nyotamalfoy

[sergeantsporks]

hey what do the gilded ggs look like? totally not gonna. . .draw them or anything. .

👀👀👀

I now have a comprehensive list for reference for myself when writing, too, hooray!

Mole

Darker hair, more yellow than blonde, a little longer and curlier than other grimwalkers

Freckles

Scar going from left eyebrow, across the bridge of his nose, and ending under his right eye. Lots of little hand scars

Eyes are a little less hugely round, more lidded

Constantly dirty

Slight frame

Cherry

Tall and muscly

Clawmark scars on the right side of his face, eyepatch over his left eye

Ponytail, with side part bangs

Very Calebesque in appearance

Ash

Blotchy scar on right cheek

Paler than a lot of the other grimwalkers, like, seeing their veins pale

A little taller, medium weight

Two braids of the front of their hair that go around to a ponytail in the back, the rest of the hair down (shoulder length)

Hamlet

Nose closer to belos

Scar over left eye

Jim Hawkins from Treasure Planet ponytail

Thinner face shape

Steven (the mountain one)

Sigil scars

VERY big eyebags

Phillip ponytail

AT

Mane of blonde hair

A little more Phillip looking than Caleb looking in his face

Scars from artificial magic

Medium height and build

Novus

Reddish scar that goes all the way around his throat, a silver one that goes across his left forehead

Scrawnier frame

More Phillip face shape, but Caleb’s nose

Undercut

Dagger

Deep-set eyes

Small scar on eyebrow like Luz’s, another one in the middle of his bottom lip

Half up half down hairstyle (similar to Amity’s season 1 look)

Bodywise, he’s filled out, but he’s still awkwardly skinny in places from previous malnutrition

Auric

Scars across his throat, another one going from his chin up to his left ear

Shaggy hair

Slight frame

Matt

Just like. The most average looking guy as far as grimwalkers go

Undercut

Has a scar going across his forehead

Locke

No arms

Scar from left top of forehead all the way down to the right jaw

Phillip eye shape

Curly short hair

Meleager

2 notches in each ear

Scar on his left cheekbone

Undercut

Jason

Hunter, minus the scars, plus freckles

A slighter frame. He’s just about Hunter’s height, though.

Frank

Burn scars everywhere, keeps his hair short, since a lot of it got burned off

Short and stocky

Missing an arm

Lake

Pretty round in the face

Undercut

Scar going from the left side of their nose across their cheek

Horus

Lot of stabby stab scars on his arms and torso

Squareish in appearance

Short hair, but not buzzed

Short and stocky

Sam

Tall and skinny

Man bun (search tales of arcadia past Douxie for approximation), slightly darker blonde than Caleb

Pale. Never sees the sun.

Huge big round glasses

Scar on the right side of his chin, a few on his hands, and a couple on his neck where Belos’ gauntlet cut him

Tall beanpole of a man

Wears a lab coat and thinks he’s sooooo cool for it. He also has an earring with a chain that hangs from his upper ear and connects to his earlobe

Nose is closer to Phillip’s than Caleb’s.

Joseph

Buzz cut, very light blonde hair, almost white

Short and stocky

Lots of clawing and biting scars all over face and torso

Very square jawline

Chryses

Mane of hair

Mostly it’s his torso that’s covered in scars, but he has one on the right of his forehead

Scrawny

Massive eyebags

Silver

Small and skinny

Edward Elric hair

Has a few scars on their face, mostly like little ones from rocks hitting them, nothing huge

Nose is much less prominent than Caleb’s

Cyrus

Earrings

Scar that goes across his nose

Bushy ponytail kind of like Phoenix’s

Medium height, muscular build

Alex

Really long hair, like, waist length

A lot of little nicks and scratch scars on his face, a big one going up the side of his neck, and a lot of small scars all over his body.

Venari

Scars going through their sigil, 3 clawmark scars going right down the middle of their face

Braid

Medium height, proportional weight

Less round in the face

Petro

Aquiline Nose crooked

Scar like Hunter’s, but on the opposite side. Blotchy red scar on his left forehead. Small scar on the left side of his mouth, scar through right eyebrow and down face. Tattered ears.

Sunken in eyes, no eyeshine, heavy eyebags

Sharper jawline

Buzzcut

Six feet, solid, muscular

Phoenix

Short, bushy ponytail

Scar from artificial magic covering left side of his face, neck, and arms. Scar going through his right eyebrow, and a few on his hands

Tall and muscly

Longer, less prominent version of Caleb’s nose

[apricotgojo]

Could I please request Felix x reader please? Maybe where she’s friends with Adrien and meets Felix and he’s really soft with her and everyone’s really confused lol. Super fluffy please😌🙈

Hi! Sorry for the long wait i was super busy hh :(( but here it is! It’s not as fluffy as intended but i think that’s because i’m not good at writing fluff but nonetheless i hope you enjoy it. I love felix with all my heart so this was a treat to write <3

Pairing: Felix Graham de Vanily X Reader.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and swearing !

Tags: Fluff, Pls felix deserves the world thku very much.

Luka’s boat party at the Seine, something you’ve been looking forward for the past week.

Well, It’s not really a party.

A small get together with great people, good music and drinks.

This is the first time you’ve been invited to one of these parties and Marinette has told you many times that it’s going to be one to remember, even if it is lowkey.

Plus, you could warm up to more people other than the small circle of friends you have at college.

“Woah.” You say without even realising as you look around at the balloons and fairy lights all over the place.

As soon as you enter you see the place peppered with a few people, some people you’ve never seen in your entire life and some familiar faces from college.

Marinette and Alya were by your side, you walked to the boat with them.

“Juleka and Luka live here?” You ask.

“Yeah but Luka’s trying to find a new apartment right now.” Marinette says.

As if on cue, the blue haired boy makes his way over to you guys.

“Welcome ladies.” He says and smiles at all of you. “As usual, make yourselves comfortable, get some drinks and enjoy yourselves.”

“Hey look there’s Adrien!” You say and you were about to go greet him until you felt someone grab your hand, stopping you.

“Thanks Luka, the party looks amazing.” You compliment.

Your eyes fall onto a familiar blond and you smile.

You turn around and see Marinette, shaking her head. “That’s not Adrien, that’s Felix.”

“What the fuck is he doing here?” Alya asks, gasping.

Marinette shrugs. “I have no clue, Adrien probably invited him.”

“I swear to god if that little blond bitch tries me again I won’t hesitate to kick him in the balls this time.”

“I think Alya needs a drink.” Luka chuckles and Alya nods angrily.

“Who’s Felix?” You ask and the three turn to look at you.

You look at them confused as to what they were talking about.

You could’ve sworn that he was Adrien, he looks exactly like him except his hair was straighter and neater. He reminded you of Draco Malfoy from Harry potter.

“The spawn of satan.” Alya mutters, rolling her eyes and sipping on her drink.

Marinette sighs and steals Alya’s drink from her hand.

“Hey!”

“That’s Felix, Adriens cousin. He’s kind of the complete opposite of Adrien.” Marinette explains.

“Meaning…?” You trail off.

“Meaning he’s a douchebag.” Alya states.

“Alya come on.” Marinette groans.

“Nope, she has a point.” Luka intervenes.

“Listen girl, when we were in middle school he sent us a video of him pretending to be Adrien and telling us how much he hates us.” Alya tells you and crosses her arms over her chest. “And last summer Adrien invited him to the beach with us and he didn’t even talk to us or swim because he’s worried that his pretty porcelain skin will get burnt. Trust me, the last thing you want to do is talk to him.” Alya says and snatches her drink back from Marinette before walking off.

“What Alya is trying to say is that yeah, he’s rude and yeah, kind of a douche too but don’t worry about him too much, he doesn’t really talk to any of us.”

He honestly sounded horrible.

I mean, not talking to them is one thing but almost ruining Adriens friendship with everyone is something else.

“Yeah because he hates us.” Luka says and Marinette glares at him which causes Luka to chuckle.

“Hey guys!” finally, the actual Adrien Agreste has come to talk to you guys.

“Hey Adrien.” You say and smile at him before giving him a friendly kiss on the cheek.

Marinette does the same to him and before quirking her eyebrow up. “Kagami isn’t here?” She asks.

“No she has to study for her exam tomorrow.” Adrien says and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Uh-huh.” Marinette narrows her eyes at him suspiciously but doesn’t say anything more.

“Oh yeah, guys, Felix is here.” Adrien laughs nervously.

“Adrien.” A voice chimes in.

It belonged to the notorious Felix who was now standing behind Adrien.

“Hey Felix.” Marinette says, smiling at him.

The blond furrows his eyebrows at her and rolls his eyes. “Adrien can we-“ He stops when he looks at you.

“Hi.” You say your name and hold your hand out. “It’s nice to meet you.” You say and he walks closer to you.

You gulp and chuckle awkwardly.

Knowing this guys attitude, you were scared about what he would say about you.

He takes you hand and shakes it. “I’m Felix, it’s nice to meet you too.” He says, a small smile on his face.

Everyone around you widens their eyes at the sight before them.

You look down and notice that he was still shaking your hand, looking at you, dazed.

Maybe he had too much to drink?

He removes his hand from yours quickly and you notice his cheeks tinting red. “Nothing.” He says and walks away.

Adrien clears his throat and pats him on the shoulder, snapping him out of it.

“What did you want to tell me Felix?”

“What. The. Fuck.” Marinette gapes. “I swear, when I met him for the first time he didn’t even shake my hand let alone smile at me.”

You felt like you were on the spot and ultimately it made you feel uncomfortable.

“Maybe he’s drunk or something?” You say and shrug.

“Felix doesn’t drink.” Adrien states.

You gulp. “Well I do.” You chuckle nervously and walk away from them to get a drink for yourself.

You move past people, muttering ‘excuse me’ as you walk to the little table where the drinks were. You pour yourself a drink.

“I’m not Adrien you brat.” You hear someone say and you instantly turn around.

“Ohhhhhhh…” A girl slurs. She was laughing against Felix, who looked incredibly uncomfortable with her presence. “doesn’t matter, we can still have a good time together.”

You watch Felix look around him and sigh, he didn’t even know what to say to her.

“I don’t want to.” He states.

“Why you got a girl or something?” She asks, sipping on her drink and hopping to the beat of the music.

You didn’t even realise that your body moved on it’s own.

“Yeah he does.” You say and walk over to Felix, kissing him on the cheek. “Here’s your drink babe.” You say and wink at him.

The colour of his face matched that of a tomato right now and he slowly took the drink from you, laughing nervously. “T-thank you.” He stutters out.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know.” The girl apologises.

“Are you okay?” You ask him, slightly smiling. “I could tell you were uncomfortable.”

“You’re good.” You shrug and grab Felix’s hand, “Au revoir!” You wave before dragging Felix elsewhere.

You found a secluded area on the boat near the railings. You figured he needed some air.

“Yes, I appreciate it.” He says, looking at the sea. “Thank you.”

You stare at him.

Since you’re getting a closer look at him you realise that he actually has different features from Adrien which you don’t notice at first.

His nose was a little longer with a few freckles peppered across it.

His skin was fairer, in fact it was so fair that every time he blushes you can see it evident on his cheeks and the tip of his nose.

His eyes were more narrowed but still held the same beautiful green, maybe felixs’ was more vibrant.

“What the hell did you put in this?” He asks.

You watch his long fingers curl against the cup tighter before sipping the drink.

His face contorts after.

“Liquor.” You state, chuckling. “What you can’t take the alcohol Felix?” You tease.

He scoffs, “Of course I can. Watch me.” He says and downs the rest of what was in the cup.

He looked really cute when he’s laughing.

He starts coughing after he finishes and cusses under his breath.

“That was strong shit.” He says and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

You start laughing, clutching your stomach as you do so.

You hear him slowly join in on your laughter soon after and you slightly open your eyes to see him.

“you know…” He says, wiping some lose tears from his eyes from the laughter “I don’t have many friends so I’m not really used to laughing like this.”

“Why don’t you try making more friends?” You asked him.

“Why am I any different?” You ask. “I mean, you barely talk to Marinette or any of Adriens friends.”

He shrugged at you and leaned against the railings.

“I don’t particularly like being around a lot of people, nor do I really enjoy people in general.” He mumbles, looking down. “But that’s just how I was brought up I guess.”

He stares at the floor boards and sighs. “When I saw you, my first thought wasn’t “oh she’s just one of Adriens friends” or “she’s probably going to talk to me because has to because ‘hey I’m known as Adriens spoiled rich cousin’” my first thought was ‘wow, she’s absolutely beautiful and she’s new around here, she doesn’t know of who I am so maybe I actually have a chance with someone. Even if it’s just a friend.”

You cut him of by getting on your tip toes and giving him a small kiss on the lips.

His comment made your cheeks heat up and a small smile twitch on your lips.

“Sorry if it makes you uncomfortable, it’s probably the damn alcohol, I have no idea what shit im spurring out let alone-“

His mouth parts and his eyes were wide. “Maybe it’s the alcohol too or maybe I just wanted you to stop talking.” You whisper.

“I will kiss you again, only if you stop thinking that Adriens friends talk to you because they have to. You’re a sweet guy and you shouldn’t feel left out.” You tilt your head and place a hand on his cheek.

He was frozen. It was a cute sight but you were scared that you terrified the poor guy.

Suddenly he leans in for another kiss but you place a finger on his lips to stop him.

He stares into your eyes for a moment, as if trying to look for something other than the truth.

You could see the green properly, his eyes were glistening, like he had stars in them.

Felix cups your face with both hands and pulls you into a kiss, a deep one.

You may not know him very well but this moment with him felt right, you didn’t see him as just Adriens cousin. He was more than that.

He was Felix and right now with every movement of his lips against yours, you felt butterflies fluttering around your stomach.

“Hey guys.” You wave awkwardly to them and chuckle.

You hear someone clear their throat which makes you pull away from the kiss. You turn around and see your group of friends staring at you.

Alya had her hand clasped over her mouth.

Nino was wide eyed.

Marinette was smirking at you.

Adrien was smiling awkwardly.

“We’ve been looking for you everywhere girl! We didn’t know you were sharing spit with Felix.” Alya exclaims walking up to you.  “Is he forcing you into doing something because I swear to god I will-“

“no no Alya, I’m the one who kissed him.” You say, smiling sheepishly.

“Why?” She deadpans, looking at you confused.

“Cesaire.” Felix says walking up to Alya. He clears his throat. “Are you still running that little blog of yours?”

Alya narrows her eyes at him, crossing her arms over her chest. “Yes.”

“It’s…” He stops and looks at you, as if for a moment, he’s remembering what you were talking about before. “It’s great. Even people In England are talking about it.”

Alya’s jaw drops. “Holy shit, really?”

Felix nods and you smile at him, knowing that he’s really trying.

“Nino! The ladyblog went international!” She exclaims and goes to hug her boyfriend.

You mentally thank him and he sends you a small wink before holding your hand.

Maybe you were the key to him finally being himself in front of others.

Maybe you could even become his everything.

[wildernessuntothemselves]

I'm Yours, You're Mine | 5

Word Count: 4.1k

Genre: Smut, angst

Warnings: Cheating, yandere!felix, sub!felix, mention of blackmail, public sex, pussy eating, guided masturbation?, fingering, hella jealousy, assault mention, jisung inclusion lmao

A/N: link to the gorgeous dress the OC wears made a super lovely anon thank you babe

GIF CREDIT

“What is taking you so long?” You grunt, walking into the kitchen to find the freckled boy pulling a tray out of the oven. At the sound of your voice, he springs up and flashes you a brilliant smile that explains just why he’s nicknamed the sunshine boy. You smile bitterly at the reminder. Oh, how you used to believe that.

“I just finished the brownies for the picnic, noona.” He chirps happily, looking so angelic, like a bad thought never crossed his mind ever.

Felix wants to take you on a romantic picnic date beside the river. He volunteered to do everything, making you both the food and drinks you’ll need so all you’ll have to do is sit there and enjoy the pleasant early summer weather.

Taking a deep breath, you steal yourself, preparing for the transformation you’ve come to expect from him. “Oh, we’re not going on a picnic. I changed my mind. I wanna go to the mall instead.”

You know the commercial, impersonal place would upset the sentimental boy, and that’s why you do it. The sharp fall of his smile makes your heart stop for a second and your body stiffen, preparing for an attack.

“What?” He asks gruffly.

“I need new summer clothes.” You try to appear nonchalantly.

“Can’t you do that any other time?”

“I want to do it today.” You shrug, stopping yourself from flinching as you see his jaw clench. “You promised you’d take care of me. You promised you’d do what I want.” You remind him of the promises he made after attacking you last time. The promises he made to make you give him another chance. You didn’t believe in any of his promises, and you were provoking him on purpose to prove that he can’t himself in check so you’d have a reason to call this whole thing off.

And it seems he’s getting there. “But we agreed on this date. I prepared a lot for this. I made you fucking brownies.”

“You promised you wouldn’t hurt me.” You accuse, and he flinches, his body immediately deflating as the anger rushes out of him. “No, I won’t. It’s okay. We can go wherever you want, noona. You just took me by surprise, that’s all.”

You didn’t expect this reaction from him. You thought he’d lash out again. Maybe it really was a mistake like he said, and you should give him another chance. You’re lost in contemplation when his soft, low voice breaks through to you.

“Would you at least try the brownies?” He pleads, his pretty eyes sparkling, making you believe that the universe truly is a cruel, uncaring place if the stars would agree to light up the eyes of someone like him. Still, you can’t resist the constellations reflected in his eyes and onto his cheeks, finding yourself compelled to lean down and press a kiss to his pouty lips.

You suck in a sharp breath at the exploding light that brightens his face at such a small action, like a supernova, blazing your cold heart.

“Okay.” You breathe, and he, giddy with excitement, cuts off a piece for you. You reach out for it but he swings his hand out of the way, wanting to feed it to you himself. You open your mouth and accept the food, biting a piece of it off and chewing it.

Felix watches you with bated breath, as if your opinion would win him a national baking competition. You’re scared by how much you’re enjoying his attention, and it scares you. It’s too easy to get addicted to him.

“How do you like it, noona?”

“It’s sublime.” You smile, the divine taste of the dessert and his angelic features could fool you into thinking you’re in heaven. How can one person give you such radically conflicting feelings? You feel like you’re teetering on the edge of a cliff, not knowing if at the end of fall you’ll be greeted by the refreshing ocean water or the jagged, deadly rocks.

Felix’s smile gets impossibly wider as he giggles. “I knew you’d like it, baby.” He leans in to give you a peck that’s sweeter than the food you just had.

______________________________

You can’t find anything you like. Nothing at all.

Frustrated, you turn to Felix who had been following you obediently like a little puppy through the countless stores.

“I don’t know. Do you see anything good?” You huff, and he seems surprised by your question, not having expected you to actually take his opinion, albeit how last choice it is. You feel bad. He not only didn’t complain like he promised, even though you cancelled the picnic he wanted, but he actually hyped you up and showered you with compliments every time you’d try on something new.

“What do you like your girl to wear?” You tease him, knowing your words will bring a pretty blush to his face.

“I--I like dresses.” He replies sheepishly.

“Yeah? Like what? Show me.”

It’s your turn to follow him around as he bashfully picks out a few dresses for you. You notice they're all so girly and pretty with bows and frills and lace. Seems like he has a type.

“Do you want me to try them on, baby?” You ask when he hands them to you.

“Please.” He breathes, impatient to see them on you and you think it's adorable how excited he is. You don’t wear dresses, and you know you won’t wear these, but you try them on just for him, not expecting how much his reaction will affect you.

"Wow." He sucks in a breath, his widened eyes taking in every inch of you. Smirking, you ask, "You like it that much?"

He nods vigorously, looking at you with adoration and want you’ve never had directed at you before. It takes your breath away, how genuine it looks, compelling you to do everything in your power to earn it.

The dress is made of a pretty pink Chiffon material, with a pink bow circling under the chest and a sweetheart neckline that exposes your collarbones and dips down to show quite a bit of cleavage, serving to emphasize your breasts that Felix can’t take his eyes off of. The contrast between the light and princessy look of the flowy skirt, and the seductive neckline hints at a certain corruption of innocence begging to be undertaken.

But just as you prepare to be engulfed in the sparkly blue-green of the ocean water, you find yourself crumpling over the rocks as Felix pulls out his phone to take a picture of you.

“You and your pictures.” You comment bitterly, happiness gone. “Gonna blackmail me over this too?”

He gasps, and the hand holding his phone immediately drops down, as if he couldn’t believe you’d say that.

“What, did you forget that you forced me into this?” You mock, “I bet you’re loving this. Making me do this. Dressing me up like I’m your doll? I bet your little dick is hard right now.”

He shakes his head, and you’re not sure if he’s trying to deny your words or just defend his actions. Pulling him close by his jeans, you press your thigh between his legs and laugh when it’s met by his hard-on. “See? I know everything that goes on in your sick brain.”

“Just wanna be good for you.” He whimpers, but even as he says that, his eyes fall to your breasts and his hand reaches out to run over the neckline of the dress you have on.

“Of course you do.” You snarl, and he cowers under your harsh tone. But like a kid at a candy store, he can’t stop his hand from straying, his fingers trailing down to circle around your nipples pushing through the soft material of the dress.

Grabbing his wrist, you bring his hand to your mouth and take his middle finger into your mouth, sucking on it lightly, grinning as his knees buckling and a small whimper leaves his lips. He tries to push you back into the fitting room but you don’t budge, taking his finger out of your mouth and humming. "I suddenly want something to suck on. Why don't you buy me a popsicle baby? I'm feeling hot."

He gulps harshly, "Yes, noona."

________

Felix buys all the dresses for you and you keep wearing the pink one, wanting to make him suffer more through the trip.

You strut to the ice cream store, feeling unstoppable in your flowy dress with your lovestruck lover in toe, hand on your waist and eyes glaring at everyone, trying to fend off anyone who would try to approach you.

Felix sits you down in a booth at the far end of the store, hiding you from view as he goes to get what you want. You sigh, playing the skirt of your new dress, lost in thought about Felix and how you feel about him. He’s sweet, addictively so, but he’s volatile and that scares you. Would you pick him over Chan? What if he just wants you because Chan has you? Maybe this is some kind of sick competition for him. Or maybe it’s the contrast with Chan that makes you like him at all. Maybe you’re just upset with Chan.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a loud, cheery voice. “Noona, how are you?”

Coming out your daze, you blink, taking in the new figure. “Oh, hey, Jisung.”

“What are you doing here?” He asks giddily, eyes raking over your body, stopping over your breasts the same way Felix did, and lingers on them too long. You clear your throat, smirking as his eyes snap back up to your face as he flushes.

You’re quite aware of the crush he has on you. So better get rid of him before Felix comes and throws a tantrum. Unless…

This could be your chance to get back at Felix for what he did to you and for forcing you to go on this date. He can threaten to tell Chan on you but what is he gonna do to Jisung? Nothing.

“I’m just hanging with a friend.” You smile broadly, “Why don’t you join us?”

“Wouldn’t your friend mind?” He asks, already moving to sit down. You grin wickedly, “No, he’ll love it."

“Okay.” He sits down opposite you, unsuspecting of the storm about to come over. Right on time, Felix comes back with your popsicle.

“Oh, hey Lixie! This is Jisung. We work together.” You pull him down, ignoring the sour look on his face.

“Hey!” Jisung pipes up with a friendly wave that Felix doesn’t return. Felix pins the other boy down with a glare that makes Jisung shrink back.

“He’s just a little shy.” You reach over the table and place your hand over his to comfort him, a gesture that only makes Felix angrier and he in turn grabs your thigh under the table and squeezes it in warning. Turning to him, you pluck the popsicle out of his hand and take a big lick. “Hmm, this is tasty.”

You take the part of the popsicle into your mouth, giving Felix a wink before you turn to the other boy. “So, how have you been, Sungie?”

“Um… good.” He fidgets as you swirl your tongue around the popsicle in an obviously suggestive way.

“How's your girlfriend?” You ask, knowing full well that they broke up. His eyes follow your tongue for a second before he clears his throat and answers. “We’re not together anymore.”

“Oh, no!” You pout, lips cherry colored and glistening with melted ice cream. “That must be very hard for you, baby.”

You feel Felix’s hand clench around your thigh, but you don’t spare him a glance as you continue, “How have you been handling that?”

You place the popsicle back in your mouth, sucking on it enticingly as you eye Jisung up and down and wait for him to answer, but the poor boy can barely string his words together. “It’s--I’m...o-okay.”

Pulling the popsicle out of your mouth with a wet slurp, you smile while licking the tip of the treat. “I’m so glad. Hmm, this is so good.” You moan out, and extend the popsicle towards him. “Wanna try it?”

Jisung chokes on his own spit, and you can tell that a handprint will remain on your upper thigh from how hard Felix’s fingers were digging into your skin.

"No that's okay, noona." Jisung fidgets, and you know he’s rubbing his thighs together under the table. You ignore his refusal, pushing the popsicle towards his mouth. "Come on baby, open up for me."

He obediently opens his mouth despite his refusal, but before he can close his lips around the ice cream, you pull it away with a laugh. "Why don't you stick out your tongue for me?"

He sucks in a sharp breath and his eyes snap to Felix. You can only see the other boy from the corner of your eye, but the rage rolling off of him in waves more than explains the terrified look on your coworker's face. No, that wouldn't do.

Leaning over the table, your ass in Felix’s face barely covered by the short dress, you curl a finger under Jisung’s chin and turn his attention towards you. "Don't look at him baby. Keep your eyes on me."

He nods weakly and you smile, moving to sit back down when Felix grabs your hips and pulls you down onto his lap, a small gasp escaping from your lips as you feel his hard-on against your thin underwear.

Your grin grows bigger, and you grind down on Felix’s dick as you tell Jisung, "Now show me your tongue, baby."

The sight of Jisung’s glazed eyes and pretty tongue out like a cute puppy makes you moan a little, something only Felix can hear. You feel his hand move from your hip to your pussy, fingers rubbing over you now soaked panties. With a shuddering breath, you move the popsicle over Jisung’s tongue, delighted by how he doesn’t pull it back into his mouth until you tell him to.

"Such a good boy." You coo, and you feel Felix’s fingers slip under your panties to rub harshly at your bare pussy. Shuddering, you open your legs wider for him. "He's such a good boy, isn't he, Felix? I bet he'd never act out or disobey me."

Felix grabs your clit between his thumb and index finger and pinches lightly, making you jump in his lap and bounce on his cock, the two of you groaning out in pleasure and making poor Jisung whimper as he clutches hard onto the table to keep from touching himself.

Opening your legs wide, you order Felix, "Put your fingers in me. Wanna show you what you're not getting by being a brat."

His hand leaves the tight circles he’s drawing over you clit and dip down to your hole, plunging a finger right in. “Oh, fuck.” You shudder at the delicious intrusion and the thrust of Felix’s dick against your pussy, the both of you clearly wishing that was his dick instead of his finger.

“Feels good, baby?” You whisper back to Felix and he nods sharply, finger pushing in and out of you incessantly as if you’ll tell him to stop at any moment. "Yeah? Tell Jisung how it feels."

Felix growls against your skin, sinking his teeth into your shoulder angrily, not wanting to think about the other guy with you right now. But you don’t back down. "Tell him or I'll have him find out himself."

He stuffs another finger inside you, and obeys, voice grave and hostile. “Noona’s pussy is tight around my fingers. So soft and wet for me. Only me.”

You laugh breathlessly, bucking your hips against Felix’s hand so that your clit can rub against his palm. Poor Jisung’s hands were white from how tightly he was gripping onto the table, and you’re worried he would either break it or hurt himself.

“You getting turned on watching us, baby?” You drawl, getting his attention. “It’s okay. You can touch yourself.”

As if he was waiting for your permission, Jisung instantly sticks his hand between his legs, and humps against it to relieve some of the pressure.

“Good boy.” You murmur, and Felix abuses the spot he bit in your shoulder again, deeping the mark forming there and making his feelings clear about you praising another guy while he’s fingering you. "Did you fantasize about my pussy, baby?"

“Yes.” Both of them answer, and you laugh.

"Hmm, seems like you've got competition, kitty. Maybe I chose the wrong boy to play with."

Felix stops abruptly, pulling his fingers out of you and pushing you onto the seat next to him. Your heart beats rapidly against your chest, thinking that he’s about to make a scene. Instead, he slips under the table and pulls on your hips so your ass is at the edge of the seat. Yanking your panties off, he spreads your legs wide.

"Gonna prove to you that I'm the one for you." He buries his face in your pussy, angrily licking every little inch of it and sucking harshly on your clit.

“Oh, fuck---Felix!” You moan, grabbing onto his hair as he devours your pussy. “Good boy. This is exactly where you belong.”

From the barely open slit of your eyes you see Jisung frustrated and on the verge of crying as he’s not getting as much stimulation as he needs.

"Pull your pretty cock out for me baby.” You drawl, trying to entice him so he’d forget about being in a public place and give in to you. “Don't be scared. Noona wants you to be dirty."

He discards his fears, pulling his dick out and yanking on it fast.

“Good boy. Such a good boy.” You effuse, and under the table, Felix pulls back to slap your pussy in punishment, furious that you’re still giving Jisung attention even though he’s on his knees under the table eating your pussy out.

“Brat.” You hiss, tugging on his hair and pushing his head back between your legs, grinding your pussy against his face.

"Wanna cum, please." Jisung begs, and you tear your eyes away from Felix’s shiny and livid ones to look over at him. He doesn’t look pretty or angelic as Felix looks even under the cramped table and surrounded by the pink Chiffon as he ignores his need to breathe in favor of pleasing you. Instead, Jisung he looks sweaty and fucked dumb, his eyes barely focused and his jaw hanging open.

"Wait for noona." You gruffly answer, squeaking in surprise as you feel Felix’s tongue push inside your pussy, a growly moan ripping out of him as he feels your tight walls around his tongue.

"You are doing such a good job, kitten.” You purr down to your lover, fucking his pretty face.

“No, I can’t, n-noona… please.” He cries, and you glare at him. “I said wait.”

“Can’t….ahh...noona, I’m sorry….fuck, fuck!” He squeaks, body convulsing as little ropes of white stain his shirt.

Seeing the mess he makes, you’re tipped over the edge yourself, cumming on Felix’s tongue and closing your thighs around his head, trapping him there. Obediently, he stays still as your hips buck a few more times against his face before your body relaxes and your legs fall open.

Felix gives your pussy a couple of soothing licks before he pulls your dress down and emerges from under the table, his face glistening with your cum. Yet somehow, he still looks as delicate and beautiful as ever as leans into your hand cupping his cheek.

“Good boy.” You murmur, your other hand reaching out to palm his crotch when a wet spot surprises you. You raise an eyebrow "oh?"

"I'm sorry. I know you didn’t say I could cum. I just wanted this for so long. Wanted to make you feel as good as you make me feel." He sobs, thinking you'll laugh at him. But you find it so incredibly sexy and flattering. You never thought you'd meet a guy who enjoyed pleasing you that much.

"You did good, baby." You beam, patting his cheek. ”Sitting there while I flirt with another boy? Maybe next I just make you watch while I fuck him. How does that sound? I bet it will make your little cock so hard, you little pervert."

He shakes his head violently, getting upset. "No, please don't. It would kill me. I love you so much." He breaks down and starts babbling about how he never wanted it to be this way. How sorry he is, begging you to not do this again.

"Hush, my dumb kitty." You press your finger against his lips to stop him from talking. “It’s okay. How about we go home and get cleaned up then have some coffee and brownies?"

He nods gratefully, and you’re about to get up when you hear someone cough. You look in front of you and remember that you had a guest.

“Oh, Jisung. Let’s talk tomorrow, okay?” You say, pulling Felix up and ignoring Jisung’s protests, and walking to the door.

However, Jisung isn’t the only one with something to say. As you’re about to leave the shop, an employee intercepts you. You can immediately tell what he’s going to say from the severe look on his face.

“Please, don’t try to come back to our shop or we’ll have to call the police.”

You nod, cheeks burning in humiliation as you run out and drag a smiling Felix behind you to the car.

__________________

When you head off to work a few days later, you wonder what you’re going to say to Jisung. You had set off to work with a promise to Felix that you’re not gonna pursue anything with the brunette, but he weirdly didn’t seem particularly concerned about the matter, despite how upset he was that day.

Yes, you’d been extra nice to him these past few days, acting much more receptive to his affectionate ways and responding in kind, but you still didn’t expect that much change.

Your brain is buzzing with all the possibilities about how Jisung will react and your lover’s one-hundred-eighty flip in attitude as you step into your office, but then you realize that Jisung isn’t there at all. Asking around, you find out that he’s at the hospital. Apparently he’d injured himself while playing with a knife. You roll your eyes. That boy is a danger to himself.

Still, you decide to go check up on him at the hospital.

You expect him to act awkward around you, to blush and stutter and look away. What you don’t expect is the sheer horror on his face upon seeing you.

“Wow, did I scar you that bad?” Is the first thing you say to him once you’re inside his hospital room.

“Why are you here?” He asks shakily, staring behind you as if he’s expecting someone to pop out from there.

You frown, “I realize I may have crossed the line yesterday but I just wanted to make sure you’re alright."

“I’m fine. Now please leave.”

“Thanks, I’m so reassured right now.” You roll your eyes, moving closer to him. ”How did this even happen? How does one stab their own leg?”

But as you reach out to touch his shoulder, he screams. "Don't touch me! You can't touch me!"

"What's going on? You're freaking me out." You jump back, and once again, he looks behind you. "Does he know you're here?"

"Who?"

"Your boyfriend."

"Chan?” You ask, confused. What does Chan have to do with this? “He doesn't even know you."

"No, Felix. The one that was with you yesterday."

"Felix? He's not my---" Your face suddenly falls as a horrible thought crosses your mind. No. It can’t be. "Did he do this to you?"

Jisung pales and shakes his head violently "No. I told you it was an accident. Now please leave."

He seems to be on the verge of breakdown, and maybe you should try to calm him down, but your mind is in an upheaval right now, and all you could think of is running to Felix to prove to yourself that you’re just being crazy. He would never do something like this, would he? It can’t be. It’s simply outrageous. But then again his weird change in behavior, his volatile attitude that always keeps you on edge… No, that’s crazy talk.

Numbly you go out of the room and make your way to your car to head back home. You’ll talk to Felix and he’ll tell you how stupid you’re being, and it’s all gonna be alright.

__________

A/N: this chapter was written so quickly because of all the lovely feedback you guys gave me so yeah feedback feeds me

[mintmatcha]

I want giggly cuddly sex with tadashi 🥺 where there’s no power dynamic just us two having a good time and wanting to make the other feel good :((

I combined these two little ditties into a fic!!! I hope you don’t mind!!!

CW: established relationship, praise, sex, fluff/smut. 

yamaguchi x reader 

(reader has a vagina- no pronouns or gendered language used)

first time

It's one of the pitfalls of a new relationship; everything the other person does is endearing. 

"I'm just saying, it's weird that the fourth movie is so good!" Yamaguchi digs his hand into the bowl on your lap, picking through the entire bowl to scrape at the popcorn kernels. He tosses the bits into his mouth and chews thoughtfully, cracking through each kernel loudly, before pausing to suck the excess salt off of his fingers. 

God, if anyone else did that, you'd probably be disgusted, or at the very least annoyed, but there's something about Yamaguchi that makes it unbearably endearing. Maybe it's the little shoulder dance he does every time he takes a bite. Maybe it's the way your heart skips a beat when his tongue swipes over his knuckle, catching a bit butter. "Name another series that has a good fourth movie. You can't. Scream 4 is one of a kind." 

He does it again, crunching through the kernels happily, tongue peeking out once again to wipe across his fingertips.

God, you wished he would lick you like that. 

"Tadashi, you're gonna break a tooth." you chide, even as you sink further into his lap. There was plenty of space on the couch, but you had somehow migrated to his lap sometime during the previous movie. The arm around your shoulder tightens, pulling you into a kiss on the cheek. It's greasy with butter residue, but somehow it still makes your heart flutter. 

Fuck. Only 3 months into the relationship and you were wrapped around his finger, watching movies that you didn’t have any interest in. Any little annoyance was forgotten as soon as he flashed you that freckled smile. Every little nuance you discovered made you fall deeper into .... like.

Not love. Like. You weren't ready to admit to the 'love' word quite yet, but it was getting closer. You had been 'in like' with Yamaguchi since shortly after he moved into the cubicle next to yours.  Maybe it had been the way he always remembered to grab you an extra sugar packet for your coffee, or the way he laughed at whatever podcast he was listening to that day, or the way he silently procrastinated at the end of the day so you could walk to bus together: whatever it was that won you over didn’t matter, what did matter was that Yamaguchi made you feel happier than anyone else.  It felt natural to be with him, to be held by him, to be ‘liked’ by him.

...Your only complaint was the pacing. One of the best and worst things about the two of you was that you were both polite, constantly dancing around unsaid boundaries, trying overly hard to respect each other, avoiding any situation that could possibly make the other one uncomfortable. Which meant your physical relationship was nothing more than the occasional kiss.

Honestly, you were beginning to think he didn't want to. His hands never wandered, his texts never turned dirty, and you certainly never initiated anything. It felt like there was never an opportunity to start anything; even now, sitting on his lap while wearing a sweatshirt he had left at your apartment weeks ago, it felt wrong to interrupt a wholesome moment.

Not that you didn't want to. God. You wanted to.

"You know,  I don't think anyone's ever worn my hoodie before." he comments, eyes never leaving the television. He’s enthralled with this stupid movie, even though he had seen it 'dozens of times.'

"Really? I’ve been wearing it as a shirt. " you grab at the fabric, "Do you want me to take it off? "

"Yeah, sure." he responds blankly, attention still glued to the movie. Then, he seemingly realizes what he said, face immediately erupting into a furious blush. He's quick to separate for you, almost spilling the entire bowl on the ground. You mirror him, unsure if you should laugh at his panic or cringe. "No! Do not take your shirt off! I do not want that!" 

"Tadashi. Calm down." You laugh, even as disappointment settles in the back of your throat. Does... does he really not want to see you undressed? Is this why you guys having had sex yet? Did he just see you as a friend? For his comfort and not your own, you inch farther away, back against the opposite arm as him. "It's fine, I get it."

"No, I-" he takes a moment to settle himself, "You look phenomenal with my hoodie on, I just, I don't want you to take your shirt off unless you want to, because it’s totally something I want. I think about it-" he pauses mid sentence, ears burning so red that his freckles seem to disappear, " I mean, if- I'm not like that- if you're not ready- that's not why I invited you over. I'm not expecting anything." 

He gives a nervous chuckle, widening the distance between the two of you more. You let his words sit, only the sound of the movie in the air. 

"So." you begin slowly. "You think about me without a shirt on?"

“I mean, of course.” He is acutely aware of the edge of the couch, his body teetering at the brink, but he bares it. "Can I tell you something? You can't laugh at me. Or think I'm a pervert." 

"I can't promise that. Are you, like.... sniffing my underwear or something?" you joke, a grin sneaking across your face.

He snorts and shakes his head almost violently. 

"Okay, no! Now the real thing doesn't sound as pervy." he adjusts only slightly, his shoulders unbunching themselves. Most of the tension in the air has melted away. That's what was so great about Yamaguchi; even when things turned awkward, they quickly returned to normal. "Do you remember that time Yakki split that water all over you?"

You roll your eyes at the memory. "Of course."

"And you had that little white blouse on?" he swallows, "My productivity at work dropped about 50% that day. It was so bad that the boss scolded me." 

"Yeah, because you were too busy worrying about me catching a cold!" you say, "You even gave me your jacket!" 

"No, I gave you my jacket because your shirt was see-through.” he admits, “My productivity dropped because all I could think about was how I wanted to take you and that little see-through shirt into the storage closet."  

Oh God. This is it. This is the opportunity. 

You lean forward with a tilt of your head, the gapping neck of the shirt falling forward past your collarbone. His eyes are glued to the neckline, tracing over the hint of skin, silently begging for more. You tuck your knees up under you and begin to crawl, only half convinced that this is sexy.  The closer you get, the more he can see down your shirt. His breath hitches slightly at the sight, but he doesn't dare to look away.

"Oh? What were you thinking about doing to me in that storage closet?" Yamaguchi lets his legs fall apart and, hesitantly, you place a hand between his knees, fingertips grazing the grey cotton of his sweatpants. The band of his bright red underwear peeks out from under his shirt and, without thinking, you trace over it with a pad of your finger. At the touch, he leans forward, lips tickling the shell of your ear as he speaks. Your heart is thrumming in your eardrum, so hard you can barely hear what he's saying. 

"First, I would have ripped that wet little shirt off, button by button." he chuckles, reaching to tuck a tendril of hair behind your ear. Your pussy clenches at the low rumble of his voice, so hard you feel like your stomach is cramping. "Then, I-"

A scream cuts through the room. The both of you jump forward into each other, knocking your skull against his jaw. Almost in unison, you both reel back: you clutching your ear, him clutching his lip.  The bowl spills across your laps, scattering popcorn all over the couch and floor as you both frantically search for the source of the noise. The dramatic music of the movie drums through you as some damsel in distress is running across the screen, screaming for help.

One beat. Two beats. 

Then, you laugh. It's one from the belly, that makes your gut ache from effort. You're trying to reach for Yamaguchi, make sure he's okay, but your eyes are watering, and your whole body shaking.  He's giggling too, still covering his lip. 

"The movie scared me!" you explain through tears. He nods in agreement, gesturing to the mess across his lap, including a huge butter stain across his crotch. It's not a funny moment, not when both of you are aching, but an intangible something has you both snorting and sobbing through giggles. The moment is way too long, way past the point of any humor, but Yamaguchi's snickering feeds into yours. 

Finally,  Yamaguchi manages to collect himself, scrunching his lips into a straight line. The corners of his mouth twitch upwards and you dissolve into giggles once again.

"I want to fuck you so bad right now." he breathes. His directness surprises you. "But not on top of the popcorn." 

You pull a deep breath, trying to center yourself. "We could move?"

"My roommate is going to kill me when he comes home to this mess." he says, but he stands anyway. You follow and his hand finds the small of your back, pulling you into him softly. He presses a kiss against your lips, warm and gentle, and then pulls back with a grimace. 

"I think you bruised me.” he touches his lower lip gingerly, as if testing it. 

“I’m sorry, we don’t-” he silences you with another kiss and now you can feel the swollen corner of his mouth, gritted slightly with salt. He clutches on to your top as he steps backwards, dragging you along with him so the kiss doesn’t break. Each step is rocky and unsure (you barely miss colliding into the wall) but you stay embraced, your hands clutching into his dark locks, partially to keep your balance as blindly follow. His hands trace up under your shirt, thumbs digging into the soft of your hips, pulling you flush against him, forcing you deeper and deeper into him until-

“Oh, shit.” he breaks away suddenly, pushing you back slightly. “I- my room- I need you to stay here.” 

“What are you talking about?”

“My room’s a mess, I really didn’t expect that you would- that we-” he shakes his head. “Gimme 30 seconds- please. I don’t want you to see me like this.”

You don’t object as he scuttles away, clicking the door firmly closed behind him. You can hear the muffled sounds of drawers slamming and objects being tossed about as you wait. It feels like you have been standing there, starting at the generic art hanging in the hall, for ages. It’s much longer than 30 seconds, but not quite the eternity it feels like.

The door creaks open and your favorite freckled face peeks out.  “Hi.” 

“Hi.” you repeat. Somehow, every amount of tension had returned in the scant amount of time you had been apart. Both of you knew what you wanted to do, but, the knowledge seemed heavy. It was an explored territory, sleeping with someone new. No matter what your past relationships were, each new experience with a new person (especially a new person you CARE about) brought its own pitfalls and challenges. It seems so serious, so scary, until you tear your eyes away from the floor and actually look your boyfriend in the eyes.

"Did you just brush your teeth?" you reach out and brush a little bit of white foam from the corner of his mouth with your thumb. He leans into your palm with a smile.

"I didn't want to taste like popcorn." he says and you can't help but laugh as he leads you into the room. It’s his brand of organized chaos; there’s clothes peeking out from the closet, miscellaneous knick knacks on the nightstand (including a still foamy toothbrush) and half hung posters across the walls. . You break away to sit on the bed, tracing over the pattern of the bedspread. 

“I like this.” you comment, “Very nice.” 

He nods, frozen in the doorway. Slowly, he reaches up to the lightswitch and flicks the light off. The darkness feels heavy with anticipation and worry as he pads around to the other side of the bed. He feels it too, you decide, as you watch his adam’s apple bob in the low light, this insane mixture of pressure and excitement.

For Yamaguchi, it’s the thoughts that usually plague his mind at night that grate away his confidence. The dreams of your skin between his fingers, your taste on his lips, are so close to reality, but he can't bring himself to make the first move. Even in the low light, he can see the curve of your waist, slowly contracting with every exhale. His own breathing matches your pace and, for some odd reason, that realization makes his chest burn with longing.

"I'm not expecting anything. If you don't want to." he reiterates as he lies down. How pathetic, he thinks. He really wasn't expecting anything, but, god, was he thinking about it. He'd been thinking about it since the first time he had seen you from across the If he could just reach out, just grab your collar and pull you to him, he could finally-

"Tadashi." his skin jumps at the sound of your voice and the sound of you shuffling, laying across the mattress. It's enough to knock him out of his thoughts and back into reality. He swallows back the tightness in his throat as he inches closer to you, his knees brushing against yours. He feels the gravity of the mattress shift as you shuffle closer and closer, until you're within inches of him.  You're almost face to face now, close enough that he can feel the way your breathing picks up as his hand finds your shoulder. You hum at the contact; he's warm. Even through the thick cotton, his skin is unusually hot against you. 

"You're like a little space heater." you whisper. Yamaguchi blinks, thinking, before his lips peel into a smile.

"Is that a good thing?" He doesn't wait for an answer.  He squeezes gently and you let him pull you forward, nose pressed against nose, hip against hip. His own shoulders shake with a silent laugh and you can't help but join him. It's something about the novelty of the situation, the joy in doing something new, breaking an unspoken boundary, that makes you laugh. You both dissolve into giggles, shifting closer and closer until you're laughing in each other's arms, fully pressed against each other. Even through your sweatpants you can feel the suggestion of his cock pressed against you, heavy against his thigh.

" ’Dashi." you whisper into the thin space between you. 

"I- Yeah?" he lets out a shaking breath. You take his hand and guide it to your chest, his fingers immediately cupping the flesh, massaging the flesh with a surprisingly steady touch. The way he sucks in air, fast, surprised, and hungry, sends heat pooling to your core.

"There's no popcorn here." you joke, "If you wanna fuck me." 

It's enough to break through his anxiety and he's against you again, this time with no laughter to keep your lips apart. His mouth finds yours, hungrily catching your lower lip between his teeth, tugging it ever so slowly. The sharpness makes you gasp and he uses the opportunity to kiss you deeper, tongue against yours. He tastes like his brand of toothpaste- soft and sweet mint. It's unexpectedly hungry, unexpectedly rough. 

The kiss doesn't break as he rolls over on to you, pressing your back into the down of his bed. His heart is already racing, battering against his ribs, as he continues tugging and teasing your breast, but he can't find it in himself to slow down. His free hand pushes up the hem of your shirt (his hoodie) to expose your chest. The kiss ends as he pulls away, forcing the short in-between your teeth, holding it up to give him free reign of your body. His head dips to join his hand, breath hot against your nipple. The cloth muffles your moan, but not enough to hide it from your lover.

He pauses, mouth open and tongue lulled out of his mouth, gazing up at you through his eyelashes. "Is this okay?" he's not touching you, but you can feel the low vibrations of his whisper against your skin.

"Yes, please." you whine through the sweatshirt, wrapping your hands into his hair. "Please, Please."

His tongue traces over your nipple delicately before he pulls back,  just far enough to watch it pebble under his touch.  He returns to work, clamping down and sucking, leaving the dull pain of a blossoming bruise behind. Your hips rut up into nothing, looking for any sort of friction.

He continues like this, leaving scattered marks across your skin as he worships you. Yamaguchi seems so content, just learning the scape of your body, but the building tension in your core is wearing thin.

Trailing touches down his body, you slipped your hands under the band of his sweatpants, gripping him through his boxers. Yamaguchi breaks, resting his forehead against your collar bone with a swallowed groan, as your fingers trace around the crown of his cock. Unwilling, he bucks into your light touch, dragging his length through your grasp. You tighten your fingers as he continues fucking himself against your palm, his own hands drifting to grasp your hips, pushing down your shorts just a fingers-length. Finger pads traced against the newly exposed skin, dipping lower and lower until tracing over the lace of your underwear.

"Wow." he breathes, lifting his head up to press a kiss against your chin. "Lift your hips for me, beautiful." 

You comply, letting him peel off your shorts and underwear in one pull. The cool night air made you shiver, but his warm hands soon returned to explore the newly exposed skin. 

"Oh, you're so..." his hand dips in between your legs, dragging a digit through your folds. The sound of your slick against his fingers makes his cock pulse in your grasp. He leaves his thought unfinished as he starts circling your clit with a steady touch. The pressure sends you keening, hips rolling into his touch eagerly, but he remains steady, patient.

He's building you up embarrassingly fast, leaving you sweaty and panting under his touch. Just as your legs start shaking, your body right on the brink, he withdraws. His tongue darts out to wipe away your fluids from his hand and he groans at the taste, eyes fluttering. 

"I'm sorry, beautiful. You can't  cum until I'm inside you." he whispers, sitting up to peel off his shirt. Clusters of freckles dapple his shoulders and it's all you can watch as he scrambles away to the nightstand drawer.  He returns a moment later, eager tearing through the tin foil packet with his teeth.

"Tadashi! Be careful!" you scold as you throw the blankets aside.

"It's not ripped!" he says, grabbing the bunched up shorts from the crook of your knee and tugging it completely off, dragging you a couple inches down the mattress with them. He tosses them aside as he pulls off his own; even though you just had your hand around it, the sight of his cock makes you anxious. It's thick, much thicker than you anticipated, and around leaking, a bead of precum catching at little light in the room.

As he begins rolling the condom on, you peel off your top and Yamaguchi's mouth falls open, eyes darting around the entirety of your body.

"Holy. You-" he sighs happily. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen." He surges forward, pressing you down into the mattress once again. His mouth is against yours, swallowing your whines. His hands are at the small of you back again. but now it's about but pure. He's forcefully angling your hips back and forth against his cock, dragging your clit against his spongy head and spreading your wetness against the plastic film. 

"I can't believe I get to fuck you." he says in between kisses. Yamaguchi continues to fuck your folds, his calm pace finally losing it's rhythm. "I can't believe I get to play with this perfect pussy. Can't wait to see you cum around my cock." With a trembling hand, he reaches down and presses his tip against your entrance, hesitating before sinking just the head inside you. The pop of his cockhead entering your cunt makes both of you gasp in unison- and another wave of giggles over takes the both of you.  As he dips down onto his elbows, eyes screwed shut, he doesn't make a move for a long moment, the only sound in the room is his steady breathing.

"I'm sorry, I'm just-." he presses a kiss against your neck, another laugh bubbling up, "You just- ah, you're so pretty. I can't believe this is real." 

Your hand catches his jaw, pulling his face up into yours. Your thumb traces over his cheek, tracing over the subtle dimpling of his pock marks. The freckles scattered across his cheeks, the crinkle at the corners of his eyes as he smiles- he's the beautiful one here. At your touch, he pushes further into you, steadily feeding your tight whole inch by inch, watching the way your mouth gapes and twists at the pressure. Once he's fully seated in you, he pauses, watching your chest move with each breath. 

"Dashi," you whine, hooking your ankles together around his waist, "You're so thick." 

"I know, you're doing such a good job." he presses a kiss against your forehead as he begins rolling his hips against you. Each thrust is rough, your hips angled up for him to sink his full length into you. "Keep being good for me, baby." 

With an unexpected strength, he tugs you closer, lifting your hips off the bed. Each stroke is steady, pumping his entire length in and out of you at a tantalizingly slow pace. His name falls out of your mouth like a prayer, begging for more, but he doesn’t oblige. It stays sinfully slow, building you up in a controlled burn. Each kiss, highlighted by the mingling of your hot breaths, is further raking the coals. 

“Is my pretty baby gonna cum for me? Look how great you’re taking me.” he groans.  He’s praising you blindly now, neither of you sure of exactly what he’s saying, all of his attention focused on grinding into you.

Your back arches further, and you’re seeing stars as he fucks you just right. You can barely keep your vision focused on him, those grey eyes clouded with concentration Your orgasm knocks the breath out of your lungs and you come undone with a strangled laugh, fisting the sheets desperately. The way you clench down around him makes his hips finally stutter, a hiss escaping his gritted teeth. Your chest is filled with a flurry of emotions as you sling your arms around his shoulders, unable to wipe away the goofy grin in your face. 

A few more snaps of his hips has him melting into you as he cums. He tucks his head under your jaw with a hum, dropping you on to the mattress. His hands find their way back to your chest, giving you a final squeeze.

"Fuck." he whispers into the soft of your neck as he withdraws. He's quick to peel off the condom and tie to off, discarding it off the side of the bed. Yamaguchi rolls onto his back, holding his arms open expectantly. "You're so hot when you laugh, you know that?" 

Curling into his arms, finding some sort of gross comfort in his sweaty warmth, you can't help but suppress another giggle.

"Hey, be careful. Keep laughing and we'll have to do that again." he grips your jaw, tilting your face towards him to capture you in a kiss. "Don't test me; I'll fuck you so hard you'll need a standing desk on Monday."

"Oh yeah?" you tease, your hand tracing down his chest, connecting his freckles. "Prove it."

"Oh, I will, come here-"

The distant sound of a door slamming catches your attention. "Yamaguchi, what the fuck?" a familiar voice echoes through the apartment. 

Yamaguchi shoots up, frantically searching for his pants in the sheets. "Fuck, I forgot about the popcorn!"

[corpsedaydream]

hi i love ur work so much and i had a request! corpse and reader are dating and she isn’t necessarily what fans think his type is. she isn’t really goth and doesn’t watch anime so when she sees corpse talking about e girls and goth girls and all that stuff she feels left out and like she isn’t who he wants to be with, and when he’s streaming with her (she’s also a youtuber), he’s like talking about an anime show and reader feels left out and the whole live chat is just saying how she doesn’t belong there and that corpse could do so much better ect. so she has a breakdown in the bathroom and he reads the comments about her and gets upset and defends her which ends with him cuddling the fuck out of her and kissing away her tears idk just angst with a fluffy ending please i’m desperate 😔✌️💗

ooooooooooof i put myself in all the feels writing this and now i’m meant to just go to sleep like i’m not feeling some type of way smh

but!!!!!!!! i like how it turned out hehe, hope u enjoy

word count: 1.5k

_________________________

beach baby

Your freckles were a lot more prominent lately, but that was always something that happened during this time of year when summer was quickly approaching. As much as you felt a little insecure by the the little marks that were dotted all over your body, it came hand in hand with the excitement of being able to do all of your favourite things that just felt better to do in summer.

You were a beach baby through and through. Growing up, you lived in the one house your whole life that was right by the beach and when your family went on holidays, it was always to a holiday house that was by another beach. You could swim before you could walk or talk. When you did learn how to walk, your parents realised they had to keep an extra close eye on you at the beach because you’d always run down to the waves, not realising the danger in your toddler years. When you watched The Little Mermaid for the first time, you begged your mother to turn you into a mermaid so you could live a life under the sea. When you were a kid getting picked up from school, your after school activity was going to the beach. Whenever the school swimming carnival rolled around, it was always you who got nominated to do the races. When you were a dramatic teenager and found out the boy you liked kissed someone else, you went to the beach and wrote his name in the sand just to watch it get washed away by the sea.

Your life had always involved the beach and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Whenever the idea of falling in love with someone popped into your mind, you always thought it would happen with the beach involved in some way. And there had been a few surfer boys you’d had flings with, but none stuck. They never really made an impact on you.

But Corpse had.

The two of you were an unlikely pairing, the absolute definition of opposites attract, but it worked.

You’d met at a mutual friends house by chance and there was an undeniable spark from that very first moment.

-

“Sitting under the moon is a lot better than the sun.” The two of you had found yourselves in a light hearted argument that very first night. After getting introduced and realising there was a pull between you both, he had eventually grabbed your hand and brought you to come sit up on the rooftop with him.

“What? No way, dude.” You shook your head and laughed, he was everything you weren’t but all you wanted. “The moon is so pretty,” You agreed with him, “but the sun makes you warm and it’s so pretty when the sky is all blue with a couple of cute, white fluffy clouds. That’s the perfect weather to be out and about.”

“If you like going out and about.”

“You don’t like going outside?”

“Nah,” Corpse hesitated, contemplating on how honest he should be with the girl he’d just met but was feeling so comfortable around. “I can’t handle the world sometimes, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it. If someone came up to me and said you can spend your whole life under water as a mermaid but never be able to come back on land, I’d seriously consider.”

“Even after meeting me?” The tone shifted back to the playful flirting and you were grateful for it.

“Shut up and admire your moon.”

“I will, after all, the night sky is far superior.” He was holding firm in his opinion.

“I think it’s all really pretty.” You said honestly, and it was the truth. You were just as hypnotised by a moonlit sky with stars sparkling as you were with a daytime sky.

“I think you’re really pretty.”

He’d had your heart from that moment.

-

You’d actually gone to the beach today and spent a solid few hours there with friends and it had put you in such a blissful state. Making the drive to your boyfriends place so enjoyable, because you were also very excited to see him.

He’d left the door unlocked when you messaged him saying you were on your way. So when you arrived you let yourself in, shutting and locking the front door behind you, knowing Corpse was streaming and you were going to join him.

“Hi.” You whispered, opening the door to his office, not knowing if you should let your presence be known to stream yet. You always felt a little nervous when it came to his fans. The first time you joined him in a stream, all you could concentrate on was the amount of messages that stated how you were exactly wrong for Corpse. How you were the opposite to who he should be with. From there, it only progressed. You saw the hate comments and negative things that some of them had to say about you and it hurt.

“She’s here!” Corpse announced, so at least it was known to them that you would be joining him at some point, they had some warning and you hoped it meant you would receive a warmer welcome. “Hey, baby, get over here.” He opened his arms and you sat down on his lap, greeting him with a kiss before you both brought your attention back to his stream.

“Hi guys!” You greeted the stream, cautiously looking over the influx of messages, waiting for something negative but it seemed they were asking you about something. “I can see you guys asking, but I don’t really know what you’re talking about...” You trailed off before looking at Corpse. “What were you talking about?”

“Oh...” He started, “we were talking about an anime. (Y/N) isn’t really into anime, guys.” He laughed and you smiled but you could feel the anxiety start to build, you just knew this was going to cause a wave of hate to you.

“Hey, I loved Sailor Moon and Pokemon when I was a kid.” You attempted to make a joke, thinking it would gain approval of his fans but it only caused them to react worse.

The chat started moving faster, messages of,

‘LMAO of course she doesn’t know what we’re talking about’

‘Did she really just say Pokemon? She’s fucking basic’

‘What a fucking dumbass’

‘Dump her ass Corpse’

‘Ugh why the fuck did she come?’

‘WE DONT WANT YOU HERE’

‘Fuck off (Y/N)’

‘Corpse you can do so much better’

You could feel the tears welling up, each comment being another jab and you knew you had to leave or you would cry right there and they’d all hear just how they had gotten to you. Quickly, you got up, ignoring Corpse calling after you and trying to reach for you to bring you back to him.

Making your way to the bathroom, you washed your face in an attempt to calm yourself but it didn’t work at all. So instead, you sunk to the floor and let yourself cry. You couldn’t understand why they hated you, you loved him so much for exactly who he was, just as they did. Couldn’t they be happy if who he was with made him happy? Negative thoughts were swirling your mind. They were getting to you.

“(Y/N)?” Corpse cracked the door open, his face full of worry as he stepped inside the bathroom. “Oh, baby, hey, hey,” He was by your side in a moment, his hands finding your sun kissed cheeks as he left a kiss against your head before finding your vision. “I saw what they were saying. They’re wrong.”

“But what if they’re not, Corpse?” You couldn’t help but to argue back. “You deserve someone better for you.”

“Stop it, stop right now.”

“No, I mean, look at us... We’re complete opposites.”

“And so?” He responded. “Do you love me?”

“Yes, of course I do.”

“That’s all that matters.” He told you, and you knew he was right, it was just the hate comments were really playing on your mind.

“Is it, though? Don’t you want someone else?”

“No. Fuck no.” He wrapped his arms around you then, he knew you really needed reassurance right now and he was going to give it to you. “You’re fucking perfect, baby. My beach baby, I only want you.” He told you, bringing you onto his lap once more, only now you were on the bathroom floor. You wrapped your legs and arms around him, needing to be close to him.

“Please don’t leave me.” Your voice was barely audible when you’d whispered that but he heard it and it crushed his heart to know it was his audience that had made you feel this way.

“I won’t, ever.” He assured you, he was cradling you with a force now, ever so slightly rocking the two of you back and forth. “You don’t ever have to ask me that, I’m not going anywhere.”

[eutxrpe]

➳ what their kisses are like

[featuring: midoriya, bakugo, todoroki, kirishima, shinso, and tamaki | gender neutral reader]

there are also songs to go with each mood! and we’re assuming that this is in a long-term relationship.

➸ izuku midoriya’s kisses are like a supernova. [orion’s belt - sabrina claudio]

he’s so incredibly lost in you. you’re pulled closer, closer, closer to him, chest pressed flush against him as the space between the two of you explodes. the whole world is outshined by the loving energy that izuku radiates when your lips meet one another. you, his absolutely celestial lover, make his soul burst with cosmic radiance, and while he shows it everyday he’s with you, the touch of his lips against yours do that effortlessly. the amount of love he has for you is immeasurable; you immediately know that if you asked for the stars, he’d give you the moon besides it. 

when you pull away, you can practically see stars swimming in those big, jade eyes of his. and as soon as you make eye contact, a soft blush dusts his cheeks, making his freckles look like constellations as he kisses your palm that rests on his cheek. there are trillions of stars, billions of galaxies, millions of miles, and hundreds of places to be... but there’s only one person who will love you the way that izuku does.

➸ katsuki bakugo kisses you as fiery as the beginnings of flames. [natural - the driver era]

commanding and deep, the blaze grows. sliding your hands around his neck to pull him toward you, you don’t care if you get scorched by how close you are to the fire. taking your lips, bakugo takes time to leave you breathless and utterly under the spell that is him. he’ll nip your bottom lip, you’ll whine into him, and the dance of the inferno continues. gripping whatever he can get his hands on, he is all dark authority. while you can tease him in-between kisses, he returns that same energy, growling out suggestive and teasing statements; give flame to the fire by flipping the power imbalance around.

it is only when the fire is replaced with merely embers of what it used to be is when katsuki is gentler with you. a soft kiss to your forehead is how he’ll end his onslaught. knowing that you’re one of the only people who can calm his ferocious energy but also add to it is why bakugo kisses you like he does.

➸ shoto todoroki kisses like ocean water. [water - kehlani]

most of the time, it’s as gentle as the waves lapping the sand in the morning. a brush of your lips against his since you are the painted picture that he considers perfect. his eyes —one a calming ocean blue, the other a soothing gray— look at you dreamily before a soft smattering of kisses are placed onto the expanse of your cheeks and forehead. the tide will pull in an ever-so-beautiful smile from you afterwards. occasionally, it’ll be stormy though. the water will crash and slap into itself, flares of lighting illuminating the background. shoto’s hands will be unable to stay still, one at your jaw possessively and the other moving down to grip your waist. 

although this comparison is to water, his kisses can be fiery and engulf you completely in his passion. and even after the storm settles and the fog clears, you can see the evidence of the storm on your neck and collarbone.

➸ eijiro kirishima kisses you like it’s the last time he ever will. [i.f.l.y - bazzi]

it’s cute, really. unless he’s feeling less soft than usual, it’s filled with the energy and love of a puppy. after he presses kisses to your cheeks, his lips are slotted against yours and he’s holding you so tightly that in the back of your mind you wonder if he’ll ever let you go. kirishima’s hands wander anywhere and everywhere, and you melt into his careful hold. you can feel him smile against you, and his happiness is contagious. 

pulling away is filled with giggles and laughter, and one kiss is never enough for eijiro. he’ll give you a couple of small ones before moving down to your neck, calloused fingertips digging into your waist. kirishima kisses you like it’s the last time he will, but it always feels as light and full of love as the first time.

➸ hitoshi shinso kisses akin to the slow descent of honey down its comb. [honey - majo] 

it’s so saccharine sweet, all the words that he cannot express, boiling down into one deep kiss that steals your breath away. his fingers are set on your waist or cupping your jaw so possessively as if he didn’t know that you’re his completely. and hitoshi can’t help but mumble praises against your lips because that’s just how much he thinks you deserve it. oh... and just because it’s sweet doesn’t mean that hitoshi doesn’t steal your breath away. his lips are honeyed against yours, but the passion in his grasp and eyes when you open them is incomparable. lavender and cream fills your senses and draws you closer toward him like a bee toward honeycomb.

a smirk slowly draws its way across shinso’s features at your dazed expression after a kiss from him. it either draws heat to your cheeks or makes you kiss him again to wipe the cockiness from his face. either way, you end up getting another taste of his honey.

➸ tamaki amajiki’s kisses are as light as the flutter of a butterfly’s wings. [butterflies - jacob collier]

his hands rest delicately on your waist as indigo eyes flutter closed to kiss you. he treats you like fine china as his lips meet yours, a touch so soft that your heart skips a beat in the anticipation. a butterfly’s wings take it to the sky, and it’s comparable to how tamaki feels like he’s on cloud nine whenever you kiss him. your hands cup his cheeks that grow warm with your intimate touch. 

tamaki thinks that some people are just light and love and glow —like mirio—, but you... you and your soft touch are so much more than that. you’re a whole butterfly garden, sprouting love like flowers, flora in your mind, and sunlight from your smile. the same smile you give him when you both open your eyes, foreheads resting on each other. in this way, your garden is sacred, and he feels so blessed to be able to enter it. but he also considers it the opposite of a blessing for your mouth is a confessional for his feelings (of love but sometimes lust), and tamaki can’t help but sin.

 fin.

[missymurphy1985]

The Extra (Part 10)

Warning - smut

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton

Arriving at the restaurant just before 6, you were a bag of nerves. All he'd told you was the destination and the time, he'd meet you there. You'd pre-booked your train home that night - last train to Birmingham New Street was just after midnight so you had plenty of time. Liane had headed home after dropping you at the restaurant.

After giving your name to the waiter at the door, he led you through to a quiet section at the back, the table laid with a rose and bottle of red wine waiting. You took your seat and looked around you. You'd never been somewhere as fancy as this. A few minutes later, you saw him walk in. Dressed in a light blue shirt that matched his eyes, navy trousers and shoes, and dark tie to match the trousers, he looked stunning. He smiled when he approached the table, kissing your cheek again and sitting opposite you.

"Can't quite believe you're here. Was worried you were going to ghost me again,"

"Yeah well... I was hungry," you grinned, making him laugh. God you could listen to that laugh all day...

"Have whatever you want. It's on me."

"No it isn't, I'm paying half. And I won't hear you argue otherwise."

"Yeah we'll see about that. They already have my card behind the bar babe, it's too late."

"Then I'm paying for the next date."

"What makes you think there will be a second date?"

"Seriously?" You mocked, and he grinned, licking his lips. You'd seen him do that in countless interviews but seeing it in person was something else entirely.

You talked. The conversation didn't end, there were no uncomfortable silences. He listened patiently as you told him about the cancer scare and how it had ruined your life up to now. How it had stopped you truly living life properly.

"And now?" He asked as the mains were cleared away.

Butterflies. Full on butterflies. And it had nothing to do with the wine either. Dessert menus were given to you both, but neither of you were interested. There was only one thing you were interested in, and it had nothing to do with ice cream.

"Now.. I don't know! I just feel free. I feel like I can do anything. It feels like a cloud has been lifted. I feel like I can have a normal life..."

"You know, my train isn't for another couple of hours.."

"Do you actually want to catch it?"

"Where are you staying?"

"Staying? Babe I live round the corner!" He chuckled, grabbing his jacket. You took your purse out and he shook his head. "Told you - I've already paid." You smiled, taking the hand he held out for you. As you both left the restaurant, you glanced over your shoulder hearing a camera click. Word had got out, there was a photographer hiding in the outside seating area. You nudged Cillian, who rolled his eyes.

"They follow me everywhere here, especially since filming ended. Come on," to your surprise he didn't let go of your hand. If anything he held it tighter, pulling you closer to him. The secretive, elusive Cillian Murphy didn't care who saw him, or who he was with. You tried to hide your face from the photographer but he was persistent. Asking who you were, how long you'd been together, did you meet on set...

Cillian didn't answer any of the questions, and neither did you.

"Don't hide your face. Makes them worse.." he whispered. "Head high, walk normally." He wrapped an arm over your shoulder, and you straightened up. He was proud to have you on his arm, that much was obvious. It was too late to try and hide it, so you embraced it. He was beaming with you under his arm, and you nuzzled closer to him, no longer caring about the photos being taken. A gentle kiss from him on your cheek, squeezing your hand in his over your shoulder.

The photographer had long gone, getting what he wanted. Still, neither of you cared as Cillian unlocked his front door - he lived in one of the terraced houses you'd seen when you arrived earlier that day. Once inside, he pointed to his living room and went to grab another bottle of wine and two glasses from the kitchen.

He placed them down on the coffee table and you opened the bottle. Pouring two glasses, you took a sip and leaned back on his huge sofa, slipping off your heels.

"I don't know how you do it, walking round in those things. Agony," he chuckled, pulling your feet up onto his lap and rubbing the soles making your groan.

"Well I'll wear them every damn day if you're gonna do this afterwards!" You laughed, leaning back with a moan.

His hands on your feet felt incredible, but not as good as your moans made out to be. You had felt extremely turned on ever since dinner, and you were putting on quite the show.

"That's it... Feels so good... Harder..." You could see him trying to hold his focus, he was the one who wanted to take it slowly but you had absolutely zero intention of it. Your skirt hitched up your thigh a little as you shifted positions, opening your legs just wide enough for him to see your lace stockings.

"You win..." He practically growled, before hoisting you up and onto his lap with force. His lips found yours, and within minutes your dress was removed. You grinned as his eyes scanned your body, refamiliarising himself with every curve, every mole and freckle that covered your skin. His eyes feasted on your breasts, held in place by the blue lace push up bra Liane had convinced you to buy, matching the blue lace stockings on your legs.

"You look incredible, but I'm gonna have to apologise in advance..."

"What for?"

"There's gonna be fuck all left of those stockings in about two minutes." You laughed as he lifted you up, carrying you up the stairs before kicking the door to his bedroom open.

Laying you down on the bed you stopped him.

"Let me make it up to you, yeah?" His eyes met yours, you could almost taste the hunger in them as he nodded and pulled back. You sat up, unbuckling his trousers and letting them fall to the floor around his ankles. He groaned as you took his length in your hand, stroking up and down the shaft slowly, teasing him with your tongue as it flicked over the tip. His hand on the back of your head trying to get more contact, you looked up and him and shook his hand away. Sinking your lips over him, you gave him absolutely no time to adjust, your head bobbing over his shaft, tongue lapping at the thick vein. He stumbled, falling out of your mouth and onto the bed on his back. You were quickly back on him, moving your body between his parted knees.

"Jesus... Fuck that feels good," he panted, his fingers gripping your hair holding it out of your face so he could watch you devour him. His breathy little moans encouraging you to sink your mouth further down, your fingers cupping his balls, squeezing them lightly making his hips thrust into your waiting throat. You didn't stop when you felt them tense, only moved quicker and harder. He was breathing erratically now, groaning as his orgasm quickly approached.

"Gonna cum y/n.. fuck I'm gonna cum... Don't stop.." several shots of warm cum lined your throat and cheeks as he panted your name, his grip on your hair tightening almost as much as his balls were, releasing his seed into your mouth. You rolled what you could around your tongue for him to see before swallowing it down.

"Get that sweet pussy up here..." He beckoned, with his eyes, and you moved your body up so your core was hovering over him. He picked apart the lace ties at the side of your panties and threw them across the room, lifting your arms to rest on the headboard in front of you.

"You might need to hold onto this, my hairs off limits after last time," he smirked, and quickly latched onto your clit with his tongue making your fingers grip the headboard and his name fall from your lips. His tongue was incredible, your hips involuntarily riding against his face as he licked and sucked you to heaven and back. It didn't take more than a few minutes to have you grinding against him, moaning as you came over his lips.

"That's got to be a record..." He panted, moving your body down to straddle him.

"Shut up and get inside me..."

"Condoms are in the top draw."

"I'm on the pill. Get on with it..." He grinned and thrust up into you hard. You leaned back to angle him perfectly against your g spot, and rocked your hips in perfect time to his thrusts.

"That's it babe, ride me... That's fucking it...." You pressed your fingers against your clit and circled it, desperate for another release. He continued to pound up into you relentlessly, holding your hips steady.

"Right there... Right fucking there!" You were so loud you were convinced the neighbours were calling the police requesting a welfare check, but neither of you cared. If they listened, they'd hear their famous neighbour's voice booming just as loud as yours, both of you on fire as the release came hard and fast. His thrusts pausing as his seed shot inside you, your walls clamping him, claiming him as you came over him. You body collapsed onto his, your forehead resting on his chin as he kissed it lightly, waiting for your heart rates to come back down.

You eased off him, laying on the bed, when his arms pulled you onto your side, turning you to face him as you lay together, staring into each others eyes.

"Cillian?"

"Mhmm.."

"I love you too."