#but more and more lately it simply feels like just a third gender instead of a broad term describing anyone not binary

[nexus-nebulae]

wait so i had a thought. so if you're transitioning to a guy you would usually be transmasc. and transitioning to a girl would usually be transfem. but like. what about agender. transnothing??

[luna0713hunter]

Can you write more prompts for Zoro pleaseee? Thank you:))

Author's note : haha!!!i was actually gonna write a new fic for zoro when i saw your request!!!as always,ask and you shall receive!

College love

Zoro Roronoa x reader

Summary : new semester,new classes,new classmates and a new love

Warnings : none,College au (my favorite trope),studying and late night talks, gender neutral ,maybe more parts?,not me in the middle of exam season and dying from overworking myself

*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘

College sucks.

Everyone tells you college is great;its a place full of new experiences,a new life. Having coffee with friends after lectures and studying together,or simply doodling in your notebook as the professors talk about gods know what.

But as you sip your third cup of coffee that night and rub your eyes while yawning,you glance down at the remaining pages you have to go through before your exam in two days,before you groan and bang your head to the table.

Its exam season,and you're currently sitting in the library at 3:04 am.

College sucks so bad.

You know you have tomorrow to study as well,but between working part time job at a near the campus cafe, and going to lectures,you barely had any time to study.

You stared at your empty cup of coffee and sighed before standing up;then you guess its time to get a refill

✧

"wow,you look like shit."

You dont raise your head from the desk as you groan at your friend.

"hello to you too,Nami."

Nami drops his bag next to you with a 'Thump' and settles down. You feel her hand rub up and down your back (almost awkwardly) and through your misery you manage to crack a smile;being comforting is like a physical torture for your ginger friend.

"did you pull another all nighter?"

Slowly,your head turns in her directly and you narrow your eyes.

"not everyone can be both gorgeous and smart effortlessly like you,Nami. Us, lowly humans,have to choose one." You ignore her eye roll and continue, "and i choose the one that can get me a good job in the future."

"looks can be pretty useful too,honey."

"I'm going to choke you."

"be my guest."

You're too busy to bicker that you dont even notice the door of the class opening and a new person stepping inside. Just as Nami's about to wrap her arm your neck and choke you instead, that's when your eyes land on the new person in the class.

And your breath stops all together.

The first thing that catches your eyes is his green hair. The man is tall,and a mess of green hair making his brown eyes stand out more. There are three golden piercings on his left ear. His black leather jacket looks expensive,and you dont need to see the key to guess that he's probably owns a motorcycle..

"y/n!" You realize you've been staring shamelessly at the man and suddenly whip your head in Nami's direction.

"Nami!" You grip her shoulders and shake her violently, "who's that?!why havent i seen him around?do you know him??is he single???!!"

Nami shoulders off your hands and looks at you like you've grown a second head.

"He's Zoro Roronoa. Our classmate. You haven't seen him cause he almost never shows up at lectures. What the hell is wrong with you exactly?"

"what's wrong with me is that the man is drop dead gorgeous," you frown at her, "and geez girl. How do you know so much about him?"

"cause he's my "kinda friend". We go out drinking together sometimes."

"WHAT?!"

Your shriek is so loud,that when you turn around, you see mr.gorgeous is eyeing you with annoyance.

Great. Your new crush thinks you're crazy.

You duck your head as your cheeks burn with embarrassment. Nami rubs your back sympathetically and you groan tiredly.

"want me to introduce you to him?"

"hell no," you whine and rest your cheek against your desk; letting the surface cooling down your heated skin, "he obviously hates my guts now."

"to be fair,Zoro hates everybody's guts."

"its just a crush Nami," you flash her a smile, "it'll go away eventually."

Unfortunately,it in fact,doesnt go away eventually.

After your embarrassing moment in the classroom,you seem to run into Zoro awfully alot; Whether it be getting a coffee from the near campus cafe,or working your shift there,you seem to always see him.

Zoro liked his coffee black,that was no surprise. The first time that you surved him the black hell,he hadnt even batted an eye at your shakey hands or your stutter.

And you were certain that he had forgotten all about you.

Among the finals creeping close and closer,and with you drowning yourself under your books until morning before going back to your lectures or job,you had completely forgotten all about him.

So when you drop your head on your text book at almost 4 am and try hard not to burst into tears or having a mental breakdown in the almost empty library,you almost scream when a warm can of coffee touches your cheek.

Your head snaps up,and your mouth parts into a small scream that soon gets an ugly glare from the librarian. You shoot her an apologizing look,before turning your head back to the person in front of you.

Zoro freaking Roronoa,holds the coffee in his hand and gives you an unimpressed annoyed look.

"why are you always so loud?"

You dont answer;your mouth hangs open from the shock,and you blink a few times to make sure you're not hallucinating.

"what," you clear your throat, "i,uh, excuse me?"

Zoro rolls his eyes and sits down in front of you while dropping his own backpack on the table. He then slides the drink in front of you and while folding his arms across his chest,he eyes you for a second before looking away.

"you look like a mess. Figured you needed some coffee," he gives you a displeased look from the corner of his eyes, "or some sleep."

Your hands wrap themselves around the warm can;and a small laugh escapes your dry lips.

"you think i can sleep with all these books?i can barely manage between lectures and my part time job with only two hours of sleep as it is!" And for some reason,your stupid brain decides that its a great idea to cry in front of your crush;as if you haven't embarrassed yourself before. So your lower lip starts to wobble,and you let out a small sniffle.

There's a moment of silence;where neither of you say a word. With you starting to finally breakdown,and Zoro just glaring at the textbooks like they had personally offended him. Finally,after a while,you hear him sigh and look up at him with your blurry vision.

"... I'll help you."

"what?"

Another sigh.

"i said, I'll help you study. Im familiar with this stuff,so it'll be nothing."

You let out a loud gasp and stand up from your sit .

"Seriously?!wont you need that time to study?!"

"helping you makes me remember these stuff. It'll be alright."

And when you hold his hands in his,you grin so widely that you feel your cheeks hurting. You shake his hands and laugh lightly.

"thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!!!"

"yea yeah." He shakes off your hands and stands up,and amongst your joy,you manage to catch a small smile on his lips. Zoro flings his backpack on his shoulder and walks away. He gives you one last look and says "go home and rest for now. See you tomorrow."

And suddenly,the world doesnt seem so bad. College doesn't suck,and your crush, apparently,doesnt hate your guts after all.

[alethei4]

Comforting you when you're stressed out part 2

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

characters: diluc, thoma, ayato pronous: gender neutral warnings: mention of drinking alcohol and some swearing in diluc's part a/n: i wanted to finish it on the valentines day but i failed. hope you had a happy valentines day tho! part 1

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

Diluc didn't expect you, of all people, to come to the Angel's Share. Especially not so late in the evening. But you looked like you needed exactly this. Well, maybe not get drunk and pass out in a public place, but just get a drink and talk to the bartender. And not only Diluc did think of this idea, because just after ordering a drink, you simply said "I had a rough day". You didn't look at him, though. You stared into space, too exhausted to maintain eye contact. "Fuck, I had a rough week. Feels like a year, though" you almost chuckled at your comment.

Diluc looked at you, worried about your well-being. "Do you wanna talk about this?" he asked. He wasn't good at small talk, but he was a good listener. You nodded slowly and started venting to him. After what seemed like hours and after your third glass, Diluc offered you a walk home. You agreed, surprised that you spent so long in the tavern. When you two reached your home, you grabbed Diluc by his arm. He looked at you, confused. "Can you...stay with me for a while, please?" was all you asked. Diluc nodded and stayed with you for a little longer, while you were talking about how hard it's been for you lately. Maybe it was a bit awkward, maybe Diluc wasn't the best in giving advices, but he was definitely a good listener. And that was enough.

Thoma is such a sweetheart. He makes sure that whatever has upset you is quickly forgotten and instead, you’re focusing on him and his affection for you. He never pressures you into saying anything or talking to him if you don’t want to, but when you start the topic, he always listens carefully, with the soft look on his face. If you cry, he’ll hold you for a bit and whisper to you how grateful he is to have you and how proud you make him. Soon enough, you calm down a bit and he makes tea for you and him. After that, he takes on of all your chores for the rest of the day.

Ayato is a busy man. But does that stop him from giving you comfort when you’re in need? Oh, absolutely not. He barely even sees the tired look on your face, when he himself is used to working more than others, but the way you tiredly smile at him, trying to not show any sign of your exhaustion, he stops. Whatever has made you so worn out? He asks himself. And then he asks you, in the softest voice you ever heard coming from his lips. He gently strokes your hair, when you tell him about your day. With your head on his laps, you drift off to sleep. Oh, how he adores you.

[clockworksteel]

Haven't really been focused on gender in a while, huh? I'd honestly like to get back to it. I feel like there's a certain spark I had in September through November that has been lost. Even if I'm still unsure of what I want, the idea that I could change things represented a certain hope for the future.

Somehow the beginning of the year is always stressful at work. That and it was the Winter months. Plus I needed to do taxes, my driver's license needs renewed and I needed to look into getting a RealID this year, and I took an extra trip to my parents' near the end of February to celebrate a family event. Visiting my parents tends to have me focusing more on exmormon things for a while. I haven't really left that mode since I'll be visiting again for Easter. Then after that I should have a break from visits until at least July 4, possibly late August since I only visit for July 4 if my brother with a July 3 birthday is going to be there, although if I don't go then I visit for one of the August birthdays.

It was an alright trip with no sudden questions about why I don't believe anymore, but I was still worried about it, especially since I intended to leave before church on Sunday instead of going with them and leaving in the afternoon, but they didn't even argue with that. Maybe since it was an unusual trip they figured I had to get back and do things. My mom did make fun of my hair within minutes of my arrival though, simply because it had been 2 months since the last haircut (a buzz-cut at the time: it's not even that long now nor was it then). Then she did it again to my oldest brother once he arrived. It makes me feel like I can't ever do anything interesting with my hair, considering I visit pretty much every 4 months, plus an extra visit for Christmas.

I have still had small random thoughts that do indicate my thinking has been changed, if only slightly. Still wearing my oversized T-shirts at every opportunity. Kinda wanting to get back into voice training a little, just in case it's needed (although there's less reason now since I finished The Knight Witch: Freedom Planet 2 is already voice acted). Thinking I should get more info on laser hair removal. Considering a few other purchases but also not really wanting to commit money to things. I also definitely had a dream about a tool that could remove leg hair without even causing pain.

I used a they/their pronoun for myself in a Youtube video. In Hollow Knight Randomizer episode 1 near the start I said "I am a fool who is trying randomized nail for their first randomizer ever." It was nice to do after having just used a he/him the previous time I'd referred to myself in third person back in Axiom Verge 2. Didn't miss the opportunity this time. Also in a Discord server I joined to do Archipelago Randomizer stuff, I have my pronouns visible as he/they, which also feels like some sort of progress on public presentation.

In trying a nonbinary identity I keep not being sure if I'm doing it right at all. It feels like either I should be identify something important besides pronouns that's different between my masculine self and nonbinary self. Or, alternatively, if I've just always been nonbinary without realizing the proper pronouns, something that would need to be different for me to be properly masculine. This whole line of thought may need deprogrammed rather than being a healthy way to think about gender though. That, and most men probably don't daydream about finding an outfit sufficiently androgynous to have random strangers think they could be a woman, then just dropping into a feminine voice and never correcting the stranger.

My notes for this post contain the phrase "She, like a computer". A cool possibility for sure. I guess one attractive thing about a feminine identity, despite the wide array of practical problems, is that at least it's a clearer target to aim for. But, uh, that only helps if it's where I'd definitely want to be.

I guess the most interesting thing to conclude these past few months is that even without visiting any transgender-related subreddits or discord servers over the past few months, this sort of stuff is still on my mind.

[oddevan]

The last straw, I guess

I’m not leaving Twitter, but I’ll be using it a lot less like I used to.

I wish I could leave outright, but I’ve got too many social connections on there that I don’t have elsewhere. People I’ve met in different places that haven’t moved to other places. (Or they have, and I just missed it—which is likely.)

But after a few days of having to use the official app… it feels like Facebook. Or Instagram. A whole lot of stuff that I don’t care about, even when it purports to only show me what I care about (the “Following” timeline). And I don’t just mean advertisements, I mean:

Tweets from people followed by people I follow

Tweets liked by people I follow

Links to accounts that might be interesting to me for some reason

Out-of-order replies or truncated threads

Throw in some obnoxious UI elements like a new tweet button and a banner proclaiming that there are tweets that I have not seen while I am indeed scrolling up to read said tweets, and I feel like I’m squinting to see through a haze of noise to see the one thing I came to see: tweets from people I follow.

People with more experience in the world of Twitter apps (like Manton and Craig and John) have already said their things, but I’ve got two more data points to add.

First, I recognize that this is a pretty pathetic straw to be the one to make me “leave” Twitter. Others have been dealing with rising bigotry, hate, and a general increase in… uncivil behavior on the platform. This has always been there, and it’s been there since well before Twitter was taken private. Since then, though, the platform leadership has made it clear that this will continue in the name of “free speech,” welcoming back some of the most prominent accounts that encouraged said vitrol.

I want to note that this was something I knew was happening but rarely saw. I used Tweetbot instead of the official Twitter app, and it only showed my timeline in order along with any mentions or direct messages. Since someone of my race, religion, gender, and sexual orientation is not typically the target of hate and harassment campaigns, it was something I didn’t experience. But I followed enough accounts and heard enough stories to know that it was happening somewhere; I just didn’t see it.

The problem is the more the Twitter app shows me what’s happening “on the platform” and less of who I’ve chosen—for the sake of my mental health—to listen to, the more I’ll see. I don’t even want to see trending topics much less whatever tweets people are angry about. Tweetbot allowed me to control what I saw on Twitter; the official Twitter app doesn’t. That is why these third-party clients were so important to me.

Second, this has confirmed that Twitter’s new ad-hoc approach to policy also extends to the API. The theme repeated by app developers has been “respect,” or rather the lack thereof: the banning of 3rd-party apps was made with no notice beforehand and no acknowledgement after. It’s also inconsistent: several smaller apps, including the Mac desktop version of Twitteriffic, have yet to be banned. No respect, no communication, no consistency. If nothing else, this shows Twitter is not a stable platform for building on.

Which brings me to Smolblog. I’ve been working on it off-and-on for years now, and one of the key features has always been a Twitter integration that will import posts from and send posts to Twitter. As part of the big refactor, I was rewriting this module to use the new version of Twitter’s API. It wasn’t until I was most of the way in that I learned that there are still key features—like posting images to Twitter—that are simply not available through version 2 of Twitter’s API.

With the growing instability in the API, I simply cannot waste any more time building a feature on an API that is incomplete and could change at a moment’s notice. The change could be in a data structure, or it could be a policy change that would ban Smolblog. With me already feeling “behind schedule” (an attitude to examine later), I need to get core functionality out, and that means putting any Twitter work on the back burner.

So there it is. Twitter stays on my phone, but it gets shoved into the back page with Instagram and Facebook: apps I only touch when I need to. And I’ll likely need to; there are people, things that I can still only get to through Twitter, and asking people to give up their hard-won audience is no easy ask. But this makes the mission of Mastodon, Micro.blog, and every other independent cross-compatible service that much more important. And I hope one day that Smolblog is in that list.

Jack Dorsey was right about one thing for sure, though: Twitter should have been a protocol, not a company.

[make-me-imagine]

Worth The Risk

Scenario Prompts: 'B asking A to attend a wedding with them, to get out of going with someone their parents tried to set them up with' + 'The pressure of someone's head leaning on your shoulder.' Requested By: Anonymous (I wrote it as gender neutral, as I usually do, instead of a fem!reader).

Plot: You manage to convince Shang-Chi to help you trick your parents into believing you're in a relationship, so they will stop trying to set you up with strangers. It seems simple at first, but as things begin to get a bit out of hand, and feelings change, you and Shang-Chi have to decide, is it worth the risk?

Pairing: Shang-Chi x GN!Reader

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 2.6k

-

Your chest tightened as you read over the message from your mother again. It was long, and full of various details, and random questions. But the part that stuck out the most was that one sentence in particular.

"I've got this great guy for you to meet! You can spend the wedding together, wont that be great?"

You sighed as you set your phone down as Shang-Chi sat across from you, setting your drink down.

"Uh-Oh. That was a big sigh, something happen?" He asked curiously, worry lining his voice.

You looked at him and shrugged your head. "My cousins wedding is in a few days, and apparently my mother has decided to set me up on date, during the wedding."

Shang-Chi cringed a bit. "Is it someone you know?"

"Doesn't sound like it." You said simply. "Ya' know, I haven't talked to them in ages, and then this is what she immediately throws at me? She didn't even ask if I was single, she just assumed."

"Correctly." He added on, but seeing your face light up with bemusement, he raised his hand defensively and let out a soft laugh. "Sorry, sorry!" When you smiled softly, he continued. "Why don't you tell them you are seeing someone, a little white lie to get out of being set up."

You groaned, "I've tried that in the past, but it didn't change anything. My mother wont believe me, or stop trying to set me up even if I say I am in a relationship. She probably wont until I physically have someone with me to prove I'm in a relationship." As you spoke, a suddenly idea clicked in your mind.

As you looked back up at Shang-Chi, he seemed to read your mind as he set down his drink and pointed at you. "No! No way!"

"Oh come on! It's one wedding pretending to be my boyfriend, and you'll be saving me from an awkward blind date. Please." You whined as you stretched your hand across the table.

Shang-Chi felt an unusual pang in his chest as you asked. His mind repeating 'my boyfriend' a few times before he pushed it away. He shook his head. "I've seen this movie."

"What, you mean every third rom-com that comes out?"

"Yes, exactly. And, it'll end one of three ways. One, one of us will end up falling in love with the other and it'll get painful. Two, you end up meeting the guy your mother tried to set you up with and you'll realize they are perfect for you. Or three, your parents find us out and it gets awkward, and painful."

As Shang-Chi spoke, you felt your chest clench painfully. 'One of us will end up falling in love with the other and it'll get painful.' You almost laughed. 'Too late.'

Pushing away your thoughts you smiled widely. "Or, number four, we successfully trick my parents, the wedding goes smoothly, we go on out merry way, and in a week or so I'll tell my parents that we broke up, but only if and when they ask."

Shang-Chi looked at you contemplatively, and you pouted at him. "Pleeeassee? You'll be doing me a huge favor, and I'll owe you."

Shang-Chi's shoulders slumped as he dropped his head in defeat. "Fine." He whined out. "But-" He began, as he pointed at you, "Just don't fall in love with me." He joked.

You forced an amused smile and an eye roll as you felt that now familiar painful ache in your chest. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Would it be worth the risk of hurting yourself even more?

- - - - -

Shang-Chi looked at you from from the corner of his eye. Your leg was bouncing rapidly as your hands gripped your knees. He let out a soft laugh, and spoke with a reassuring tone. "Relax, it'll be fine."

You looked over at him, and you were sure your anxiety was clear on your face. "She's gonna see right through me."

"No, she wont." He began, "Half the time we are hanging out, random people think we are a couple, and we don't even purposefully act like one. I think with us actually pretending, we can pull it off easily."

You nodded your head, "Yeah, you're right."

Your thoughts were temporarily distracted as you remembered the various times people confused you as a couple. And every time, your face would heat up, and your chest would tighten, your mind would be filled with 'If only's' and 'I wish's'. While Shang-Chi would simply laugh it off as if it was a funny joke that would ever happen.

"We're here." The taxi driver said, breaking you from your thoughts.

Looking out of the window, you saw the entrance to the wedding venue. Small groups of people were heading inside, as the doorway was framed in white and pink flowers.

You let out a deep breath as you climbed out of the taxi. You ran your hands down your clothes, smoothing them out. Shang-Chi came to your side and smiled at you, another reassuring gesture. Holding out his elbow, you looped your arm through his as you both headed inside.

You didn't get far before you heard your name called out. Looking over, you spot your parents approaching, bright smiles on their faces. For a moment, the anxiety disappeared as you genuinely smiled at them, happy to see them in person after a long time apart.

After your greetings, you turned to Shang-Chi and began to introduce them. "Mom, dad, this is Shang-Chi."

Your parents took turns greeting him, before your mother laughed out. "I honestly wasn't sure if you were real, I thought Y/n might be playing a joke on us."

You and Shang-Chi both laughed awkwardly. "I assure you, I am very real. Well, I hope so at least."

Your mother giggled as your father began to lead to two of you into the next room. Your mother stepped beside you and whispered in your ear. "Cute. I like him."

You smiled at her, feeling relief wash over you. Now you just had to fool them for the next six hours or so.

When you had first messaged her back, informing her you were in a relationship, so no set-up date would be necessary, you were immediately bombarded with questions. Which you answered as vaguely as you could, though truth was sprinkled throughout.

How long have you known each other? A few years.

How long have you been dating? About two months.

Why didn't you tell me? I wanted to make sure it was serious first.

How did you meet? We met through a mutual friend.

You and Shang-Chi had gone through various scenarios. Ways to answer questions that might come up. You were able to form stories mostly from truth, with a few more relationship-oriented details thrown in.

As the wedding began, your mother was busy with your cousin, so you managed to avoid an interrogation. Up until the reception, when you spotted from across the room, Shang-Chi, alone, with both of your parents. You left your cousin and her new spouse and began walking towards your parents and Shang-Chi.

As you approached, you saw them laughing. Your anxiety dissipated a bit, figuring it must be going well. Shang-Chi, seeing you approach, quickly dismissed himself. You heard something about dancing as he slipped away.

Approaching you, he slid his hand into yours, causing your heart to skip a beat, and your face to heat up. You began to walk towards the dance floor slowly. "Trust me, you do not want to join in on that."

"Oh God, what were they asking?"

"About my family."

You winced and squeezed his hand a bit. "I'm sorry. What did you tell them?"

"Uh, that my parents are both dead, and my sister works at my dad's previous company."

"They didn't push any further did they?"

"They started too, but then I managed to changed the subject. Then you came over. So I told them I wanted to dance with you."

"You know I'm not a great dancer."

"I know, and neither am I, we can embarrass ourselves together." He smiled at you, and you laughed softly as you both fell into stance, just as a slow song began to play.

You glanced to the side, and saw your parents watching you. They were smiling, and you felt a mix of relief and guilt rocket through you.

"There's something else." He said after a moment.

You looked into his eyes with a raised brow. "What?"

"I may or may not have agreed to go on your triennial family vacation."

"Our what?" Suddenly, remembering that you and your family would all go on a vacation together every three years, and that the usual time was coming up, your eyes widened a bit. "Oh, right. Wait, you did?"

He nodded, squinting his eyes a bit as he let out a hiss. "Yeah, I kind of agreed before I actually thought about it. But to be honest, I have always wanted to go to Hawaii."

"Is that where we're going? They never tell me anything." You complained with and eye roll. Looking back at him, you sighed. "Are you sure you wanna do this again? It's possible they might find us out. Is it worth the risk?"

"It's alright." He quickly interrupted. "I think it's worth the risk. You never know. Things might change."

Shang-Chi was surprised by his intense desire to keep playing partners. He hadn't realized it until this moment, but he forgot, for a few moments here and there that it was a lie.

All those times when people thought you had been dating, the two of you would laugh it off. But there would always be a lingering feeling left behind. That maybe once day, it would be true.

When he joked with you not to fall in love with him, he felt his chest clench in a way that caught him off guard. As if he caught himself in the middle of a mistake he didn't realize he was making until it was too late.

During the wedding, when he saw your beaming smile as your cousin walked down the isle. He couldn't stop looking at you. He knew you were attractive, knew you were special. But in that moment, it was as if he was truly seeing you for the first time in a new way.

When your parents were talking about you, asking him questions, as if trying to catch him in a lie, he found it easy to tell the truth.

What attracted you to Y/n? I honestly couldn't narrow it down. It was everything. Like Y/n was a part of me I didn't know I was missing.

Do you see your relationship lasting? Of course. I can't imagine my life without Y/n right beside me.

And when they asked if he would go on the family vacation. He didn't hesitate, it didn't come out as a mistake. He honestly wanted to keep pretending to be with you. He enjoyed it. He wanted it to be real.

But none of this fully clicked in those moment. It wasn't until he was holding you close to him as you danced. Your eyes met his and it hit him all at once. The realization that he had always had these feeling, pushed down and away, ever since he first met you.

Maybe he hid these feelings to save himself from getting hurt. Maybe because he had never felt them like this. Maybe because he was afraid of hurting you.

"What things?" You asked with a look of curiosity.

He thought he saw a hint of expectation in your gaze, but you quickly hid it away, your face quickly becoming unreadable.

"Uh. Us...we could change." It was almost a question, as if he was afraid to scare you.

You stared at him, your heart hammering in your chest, your hand beginning to sweat. You were sure he could feel them in his own grip. Were you misreading what he was saying? Or did he mean what you hoped he did. What you wanted him to feel for so long.

The two of you were still dancing, but slower and more subdued that those around you.

You took a shaky breath before speaking. "What happened to 'just don't fall in love with me'?"

A soft smile played on his lips. "That was one sided." He argued.

"And a bit late."

Shang-Chi's face fell for a moment as your words hit him. "What?"

You shrugged your head a little bit. "By a few years actually."

You felt him hesitate in his steps as he halted for a moment. But as he remembered where you were, he continued in the dance, moving a bit more than he had before.

He let out a soft sigh. "I felt it too, but-"

"But what?"

"I don't know. I pushed it away, maybe because I was afraid."

"Of me?" You asked softly.

"No. Of me. Of, messing it up. I managed to push it away for a while, but...since we starting this fake relationship, I just...can't help but want it to be real."

"You do?" Your voice was bit higher now, as your heart was beating so rapidly in your chest you thought your whole body might be shaking.

He nodded his head lightly. "Yeah. I really do." You felt a smile spread across your face, that as soon as it was seen by Shang-Chi, his began to mirror yours. "This is one hell of a first date though."

"Yeah, it would make a great story."

Shang-Chi glanced over at your parents, and you followed his gaze. "But maybe not so soon right?"

You laughed a little. "Yeah, we might wanna hang on to it for a bit."

He looked back at you with a grin, and without helping, his eyes flicked to your lips. There were a few times in the past, where his eyes caught your lips. They lingered just long enough for him to wonder what it would be like to kiss you. But now, he did not push those thoughts away.

You saw the way his eyes hovered over your lips, and you felt your face heat up. His eyes met yours again as he pulled you closer to him. Your chests were touching, and your faces only an inch apart.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked, his voice a soft whisper.

Your nodded your head, so small a motion, it would have gone unnoticed by anyone watching you. But Shang-Chi saw it, and leaned closer. Letting his lips brush against yours momentarily, before pressing them together in a kiss.

Your movement stalled for a moment, your bodies still, as you kissed. The kiss lasted only a few second, but felt like an eternity of delight for the two of you.

When you pulled away, he pulled you flush against him as you began to dance again. You smiled brightly at one another, as your foreheads touched gently.

A moment passed as another song started, even slower than the last. You smiled a bit at him as you moved to set your head on his shoulder.

Shang-Chi smiled as you rested your head on his shoulder, the warmth of your presence making butterflies continuously rampage in his stomach. He set his own head softly against your own as the two of you continued to dance.

"I told you they weren't faking it." Your dad's voice said bluntly, as he and your mother watched the two of you from across the room.

Your mother let out a sigh, but smiled. "Good. I'm glad. They're perfect for each other."

xx End xx

I hope you enjoyed! If you did, please consider reblogging, as tumblrs algorithm is trash, and the tags barely work. So reblog are very helpful! And they mean a lot!

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @caswinchester2000, @imaginesfireMarvel Taglist: @trashywritestrash, @marvelouslyme96, @supersourlemon13, @simsiddy, @peter-parkers-cullen-nerd

If you'd like to be added to any fandom or character taglist, let me know~

[spiralwriting]

Floyd Leech x Introverted! Reader

Third person narrative

Gender neutral

Fluff

Everyone has a social battery, and it recharges depending on how many people you interact with and who you surround yourself with during the course of a day. For some, more is better and for others... not so much.

I'm the latter.

Although it's not Because I hate people or interacting with them, it's just so draining having to keep up with more than one person at a time, multiple times a day; it gets exhausting. So, instead of going out with friends and partying late into the night, as many other students here tend to do, I just recline into the cleanest piece of furniture in my dusty dorm and watch a comedy without worrying about people barging in and ruining my comfortable solitude.

Well... Normally that's the case. Sometimes Ace is once again cast from his dorm after another broken rule, often dragging Duece not too far behind. Sometimes it's Epel desperate to escape the clutches of Vil for just one night. These interruptions are regular, but never enough to run me ragged because I didn't get enough alone time before the morning.

Although, I've been more and more fatigued lately, thanks to a certain cunning eel. Floyd Leech: any introvert's worse nightmare and greatest enemy. People like Floyd are the ones that drag you every which way in a futile attempt to quench their boredom, taking pleasure in tormenting quiet kids like me that are too polite to say otherwise. His ability to drain me of any previous energy in the short space of an hour is truly a feat, something he's mastered and something he most definitely enjoys.

Though... I'd be lying if I said he was a complete nuance. Sure, he's erratic and unpredictable, but when his day has been trying and he's on his last thread, mood seemingly beyond repair, he seems to quite enjoy his trips to ramshackle. For once, he's quiet and still, sitting on the opposite end of the couch, head on a clenched fist as he glares daggers at the TV, and that's how he'll remain until the silly show finally cracks a laugh out of him. Then, before we know it, Jade's knocking at the door and dragging Floyd with him to return to Octavinelle for the night, kicking and screaming the whole way out the door as I wave them off and leave to head to bed myself.

How this started, I genuinely don't know, but it's become an almost nightly ritual. He storms in, slamming the door, stomping to the couch and throwing himself down on the dusty cushions. I ask a simple question: 'sit in silence?' and he'll only grunt in return. Every time it happens, it happens in the same predictable way, I'm honestly surprised he hasn't gotten bored of it yet.

I've often wondered why he enjoys our quiet time so much, and I'm left with silly, half-truths that he flings around carelessly. However, it's obvious that Floyd just doesn't want me to know the truth, not willing to be seen as vulnerable, too afraid to be taken advantage of in the same way he's done to many others.

But it's clear that having someone who doesn't reminisce about when he wasn't as fickle as a child like Jade or Azul or doesn't call him selfish and shallow like many others, is a refreshing and welcome change. He just wants someone who merely understands that this is how he is, no way around it and doesn't try to change his mood to fit what they think it should be. Someone who accepts him for him. Someone willing and patient to sit and wait it out with him.

So, I don't let the sharp expression and threatening posture throw me off as I sit with him, simply waiting like I know he wants me to. He appreciates it, that much is clear. It makes him feel human, accepted, seen and most importantly, it makes him feel loved.

And he wouldn't choose to have it any other way.

[glowingbadger]

i know you usually have the reader as a shy girl but bestie i need some straightforward and knows what she needs type of girl especially for felix or sylvain, they’re polar opposites and those two have a very special place in my heart <3

It's always so odd to me that like... most fic writers that I know of (myself included) tend to err on the shy-side for Reader-chan lol. I personally am very blunt in my relationships. On my third date with my now-fiance I straight up said to him "so are you gonna kiss me or not" lmao

But Felix and Sylvain are wonderful choices for a more forward Reader-chan though~

For some reason Felix's ended up much spicier than Sylvain's, but I actually like Sylvain's a little more??? idk man, I was totally just throwing ideas at the wall for these

Final note, I did write these with a fem Reader in mind, but reading them back, there honestly aren't any gender signifiers that I could see, so I'm just marking it as a neutral Reader

Felix (FE3H) x GN Reader

Sylvain (FE3H) x GN Reader

NSFW 18+ v

Felix

Sometimes you think Felix is utterly hopeless. By your own metric, you have not been subtle. You had certainly thought that suggesting a late-night trip to the sauna together after training would have been indication enough of what you had in mind. Yet here you sit together, his eyes fixed firmly ahead as you make light small talk about your prior sparring match. So, not exactly pillow talk.

"You were stiff by the latter portion of our match," he says bluntly, arms crossed and back resting against the hardwood behind the upper row of benches, "You always do that. You default to rigid, inflexible positions when you begin to feel exhausted."

You roll your eyes.

"Not everyone has the patience for a sparring match to drag on near an hour."

"Then you lack stamina."

You watch him for a moment, unamused. Then, you shift closer to him on the bench.

"So you're saying you... have a lot of stamina, then?" you say with an unmistakable suggestive tone, "Maybe you could show me how long you can go some time."

Felix gives you an odd sideways glance, but his eyes dart forward once more, and he replies bluntly,

"Fine, we'll train again tomorrow."

"Felix," you sigh out irritably. You can't decide on your next words, so you let your frustration linger in the air. He's infuriating. When you look back to him at your side, your eyes wander across a thousand different temptations; the heat of the sauna dewing his fair skin, stray hair framing the sharp contours of his cheekbones and jawline, and hard, toned muscle subtly flexing at his arms and chest. Even his hands distract and fluster you. You imagine them gripping your thighs, running down your back- it's simply too much.

"Felix," you repeat, more bluntly this time, "Have you ever considered learning the basics of subtext?"

"Why bother?" he says, "If you want something, you ought to just come out and say it."

"Fine," mind made up, you stand and move in front of him, but before he can question you, you lower yourself and straddle his hips. He just manages to get out your name before your lips are on his, and he lets out a low, hungry groan into the kiss. Immediately, you feel his hands at your hips, gripping you and pulling you firm against him. His core tightens, his cock already twitching and swelling between your thighs. You pull away from him for just a moment, just long enough to utter a husky whisper,

"I want you, Felix."

He doesn't reply- doesn't seem like he knows how. Instead, he pulls you back to him, his kiss forceful and full of unbound need. His teeth tug at your bottom lip while his hands wander your every curve. He's like a starved man before a feast, like he's been waiting for this all his life, and it's impossible not to get swept up in his pace when you've felt every bit as hungry.

At some point in the frenzy of impassioned kisses and greedy hands, you manage to tug his shirt off over his head. Your nails rake down his chest, decorating flushed skin with angry red lines. Felix groans, his breath panting heavily as he says in a harsh whisper,

"My room."

"I can't wait," you practically moan, "Fuck me here."

A calloused hand runs along your neck to weave his fingers into your hair, and you feel his grip tug slightly, his breath hot against your skin as he presses his lips to your neck.

"This... this is what you wanted, huh?"

Your bodies move together, your hips grinding down against him as his buck up to meet you. He's fully hard already, the stiff length of his cock rutting against you as he presses ruthless love-bites down your chest.

"Uh-huh," you gasp as his teeth send a shock through your nerves. Your nails rake along his shoulders, but you manage to gasp out, "So... let's see that stamina you mentioned..."

Sylvain

Sylvain always looks strangely at-home in a rowdy, crowded tavern. His frequent visits have done little for his already salacious reputation, but standing beside him at the bar, mug in hand and dim candle light across his face, you can't deny he seems to compliment the scenery. Surrounded by the warm buzz of conversation and the charmingly off-rhythm choir of drunks attempting to sing along with a local bard, you can't deny that you see the appeal. There's an easy camaraderie in places like this- an openness to connections that you're certain would benefit a man like Sylvain in a myriad of ways.

As you observe him casually leaning back against the bar, absently sipping his drink, you notice the way his eyes scan the crowd as though by instinct. A smirk quirks your lips, and you slide closer to nudge his side with an elbow.

"Checking out the selection?" you say, your tone playfully scolding.

"Hm? Uh, not so much, actually. Just kind of a habit, I guess," with that unexpectedly reserved response, he turns toward you, shoving his unoccupied hand into his pocket, "What about you? Seeing any interesting prospects?"

You raise your own drink to your lips, your grin unwavering despite his strange behavior.

"Oh, maybe. I'm not totally decided though."

You ignore Sylvain's expectant stare, opting to focus on enjoying the pleasant warmth of liquor on your tongue. When you don't elaborate, he sets down his drink and folds his arms across his chest.

"Well, if you're gonna be coy about it, I guess I'll just have to find the lucky guy for myself. Let's see..." He glances around the room once more, "Your type is... someone competent, who can keep up with you, but not too serious. He's gotta be confident, at least on the surface."

Your eyebrows rise, but you keep your expression mostly neutral. Sylvain looks to you for confirmation, and you shrug.

"What else," he goes on, "You probably like them tall, maybe... classically handsome."

A short snort of laughter escapes your nose over your drink. What kind of game is this, anyway? Your eyes wander Sylvain's relaxed frame against the bar, the top button of his shirt opened to frame his collarbones, the sleeves rolled up over strong forearms. Well- you can't say his reading has been inaccurate thus far.

Sylvain's eyes narrow and he surveys the tavern once more.

"Hmmm... What about..." he points across the room to a good looking young man at a table near the door, "That guy? Sociable, handsome, but with a bit of a roguish edge. Did I guess right?"

You're not sure whether to laugh or roll your eyes. How dense could this man possibly be?

"Ohh, so close," you set down your drink, "How about I give you a hint?"

Before Sylvain can answer, you grab a fistful of the front of his shirt and tug him down to you. You kiss him hard, leaning into him and savoring his scent and the subtle burn of liquor shared between your lips. Even caught off guard, he's a superb kisser, his tongue flirting expertly with yours for just the briefest moment before you part. His face is tinted pink, only barely camouflaged by the dim light of the tavern. At first, he merely stares at you in disbelief, amber eyes darting back to your mouth conspicuously.

"So what do you think now?" you ask with a playful smile.

Sylvain takes a breath and seems to collect himself. Leaning close, his hand comes to your chin, his thumb tracing the curve of your bottom lip.

"I think I need to start asking about a room for tonight."

[mrsbrekkers]

Hi! How are you?

Could I get a Kaz Brekker imagine where he opens up to the reader after a job about his past and the next day he tells her it was a mistake and a lapse of judgement, quite harshly. And then the reader gets hurt after a heist and he realises how much he actually needs her.

Thank you <3

i’m doing pretty good! first kaz fic tehe, i’ve been waiting to do kaz brekker one-shots since i read the books. he is v much a comfort character. i understand his aversion to physical touch ( i have panic attacks at times because of so ), his humor, and inner dialogue so he is v dear and near to my heart yeeee

i switched up the next day bit and did it as the same time since it made more sense to me?? i’m not sure how to explain it haha

pairings! kaz x reader / jesper x wylan + nina x matthias ( with inej third wheeling because she’d so do so. ) 

reader is female in this, but i can make it non-gender specific if one would like me too! just let me know i’m very flexible in my writing!

warnings! talking about jordie, ptsd, trauma, talk of death, loss of a brother + mother, swear words, kaz being sad, panic attacks, blood, near death experience, pekka a-hole rollins,

word count; 2610 ( proud again haha )

one-shot under cut!

COMPANIONABLE SILENCE

The Slat had become uncharacteristically quiet. A successful heist on part of the Crows made for easy celebration amongst the Dregs. Most sat gambling at the Crow Club, drinking the night away. Jesper had been having a weirdly lucky night, the money in front of him displaying such. Wylan had been on Jesper’s leg the entire night, and the occasional ‘This is my lucky charm’ could be heard from Jesper. Inej and Nina sat drinking together, Matthias looking like an unwilling bystander to the girls' fun. And yet, Y/N found herself back at the Slat after the long day. Her back screamed at her to call it a night, but instead, she found herself in front of Kaz’s door.

It was a routine the two had when they were the only ones at the Slat. Y/N would sit on the bed, head in a book, and Kaz would sit quietly at his desk planning whatever it was Kaz Brekker decided to plan. It seemed the same tonight, with Y/N quietly reading, until her head lifted to see Kaz rubbing his eyes.

“You need to get more sleep. The amount you manage is minimal. I’m surprised you’re not dead yet,” Y/N commented, her book falling into her lap, the page she’d left off on now folded at the corner. It surprised her how Kaz managed to live off of his, if lucky, two hours of sleep. She’d never understand it. Granted, she slept less than the suggested as well, but she always made up for it with at least a nap during the day.

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” 

That might be sooner than you think at this rate. But Y/N wouldn’t take that for an answer. She wasn’t usually a pushy person, especially with Kaz Brekker. She’d learned being pushy with him was never a good idea, considering the amount of people who did were left with a ruined reputation and nothing to live with.

“Sleeping when you’re dead isn’t an option in Ketterdam. Even when you’re dead here, you’re really not. Especially when people know of you. And last time I checked, the entire city knows you, and half of it wants your head on a silver platter. I’m actually sure people outside of the city know you, and may want the same,” Y/N said, standing and moving over to the wooden desk, sitting across from Kaz. Her eyes landed on the work Kaz worked on, seeing another heist plan he was drawing out.

Kaz wasn’t going to give in easily, anyone who knew him knew he was stubborn. One of the most stubborn people who lived in Ketterdam, but he knew what Y/N was saying held some truth in it. One was never truly dead in Ketterdam. He suspected people would dig up his body to hand over to Pekka Rollins - no, he wouldn’t die before Pekka Rollins did, that was a promise he’d made himself after Jordie. Brick by Brick. He couldn’t pull Rollins apart if he was dead. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t dead yet: his vigor to destroy the man who’d killed his brother. But he did suspect that when he, Kaz Brekker, was dead, he’d never truly be dead.

“Even so, I have things to do, plans to make-”

“At 1 in the morning? I’m sure such plans aren’t going to disappear overnight.” Being cut off, Kaz casted Y/N a glare, eyes narrowing. Why she had such influence over him, he’d never know. Or, maybe he did know and wasn’t going to express why. Because why would he? Kaz Brekker didn’t need a reason after all. He always had reasons though.

Finally, Y/N sighed. “I don’t expect you to listen to me, but I’m not going to let you rot away from the lack of sleep you get, Kaz. I am just as stubborn as you, and if I must? I will sit here and bug you about your lack of sleep until sunrise. Or until I inevitably fall asleep.” The smallest glimpse of a smile reached Kaz’s lips, an instinct to roll his eyes almost playfully too. Stubborn about the well-being of her friends was a Y/N special. Kaz had simply thought he’d have time before she got on his ass about his own health.

She’d already gotten on Wylan about his self-destructive habits. His tendency to blame himself for not being good enough. Y/N had practically choked him out once when he’d gone on a rant about how he was a problem for the Crows. A burden. Kaz himself had been somewhat frightened. She’d found ways to help Jesper and his gambling addiction, which usually included them gambling, but in ways that didn’t involve money. She’d gotten on Matthias for his excuses to not kiss Nina.

If Kaz remembered correctly, she’d called it ‘redirecting the issue’.

“You’re avoiding something,” Y/N then spoke, crossing her arms. Weren’t they all avoiding something? Kaz thought, huffing as he sat back into his seat. This was Ketterdam after all. If you weren’t running from some rich merchant, then you were running from their son. Wylan had simply been a lucky break in that usual streak.

“You say that as if we all aren’t running from something,” Kaz finally said out loud, his eyes casted downwards.

“Avoiding, Kaz. Not running, and something tells me the thing you’re avoiding isn’t something, but someone.” Y/N knew the look Kaz had on. She’d worn it herself dozens of times.

“I had a brother.” Kaz couldn’t bring himself to look directly at Y/N. It would make talking about this all too real. Too much. Was this a lapse in his judgement? Why was he telling her this? Had she managed to get so under his skin? 

“We moved to Ketterdam after my father died. My brother . . . Jordie-'' the name came out with a small crack in his voice. He hadn’t said that name out loud since he’d laid on his sick brother’s chest. “Was hopeful about what the city would bring, and it brought peace for some time. We worked with a man for some time, and my brother was in on a deal. One that seemed too good to be true,” Kaz scowled now, his anger seeming to rise as he spoke.

Y/N sighed, knowing where this was going now. “When an offer is too good to be true-”

“It usually is. That man went by a different name then. One to scam people for their money to rise through the ranks of the Barrel.” Kaz finally lifted his eyes, seeing the realization rush over Y/N’s face.

“Pekka Rollins.”

“Pekka Rollins is the reason my brother is dead.”

The room fell silent for a few moments, Y/N contemplating what to say. She had a feeling she was among the few who knew Kaz’s story. She was tempted to ask how Joride died, but she could infer. She’d been around Ketterdam during the time firepox had plagued the city. Her mother had been taken from the disease. She’d been the same age as Kaz. It began clicking in her head too.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N murmured. “I know you probably don’t want my pity, but really, I’m sorry.” It made sense why Kaz felt like he needed to best Pekka Rollins. He wanted revenge. He wanted Rollins to be just as down as him and his brother had been.

Kaz sucked in a deep breath, standing and running a hand through his hair. His regret for telling the woman before him began to consume him. This was a mistake. Why had he told her? A harsh look fell over his face, looking down at the plans he had laid out. “I need to finish these plans, and I’m sure you need some sleep,” his tone was harsh, but it was clear there was hurt underlying it. He wasn’t going to be an outright asshole, but he needed his space now.

“You need sleep too, and I doubt you’re in the right headspace to try and make plans-”

“Y/N, leave.” He internally was begging. And Kaz Brekker never begged . . . but Kaz Rietveld would, and that’s who was begging. 

“Kaz-”

“Leave.” Anger washed over his features, his eyes directing Y/N to the door.

Y/N sighed, walking towards the door. Before she turned the knob, she stopped. “You know being open about your past doesn’t make you weak, right?” But Kaz said nothing, afraid his voice would fail him. With no words spoken for a beat, Y/N opened the door, shutting it as she paced down the steps.

Her book still lied on the bed, the folded paper to the chapter she was on prominent. Kaz took one look at it before sighing and sitting in the chair, one tear making its way down his face.

---

It was supposed to be in and out. Another job. Another however much Kruge. Where is she? Kaz thought. Y/N was never one for being late. Sure she was working with Jesper, who was notoriously late, but she should’ve been out before Jesper was, and she wasn’t.

It’d been a week of no speaking. Kaz couldn’t speak to her after revealing so much. He feared it would become all too real. A common fear he had. Stealing, picking locks, it was all real to him, yes, but he never experienced reality when he was on a job. It was his way of ‘avoiding’ as Y/N would put it. But now, he couldn’t avoid the reality of this job.

The reality was: He’d ignored Y/N for a week in fear, and now she wasn’t at the rondevu point.

She’s Y/N, she isn’t dead. But that may not be true. She could indeed be dead. She could be, She could be, She could be.... Dozens of potential outcomes came to mind.

The world seemed to spin as he paced. Nina and Matthias had already tried to calm him. Nina had even tried to calm his heart rate down. Wylan seemed to be just as worried as Kaz as well, Jesper still out there alongside Y/N and all. Inej was calm, but it was clear she was worried too. They all were, but Kaz was being unusually emotional. 

“At this rate, you’re going to have a heart attack Kaz,” Nina had said.

And if he did, then that’d be a first for the Bastard of The Barrel. 

“And you’re not close to having one?” Wylan asked, shooting a glare over at Nina.

Kaz mentally thanked Wylan. At least he wasn’t the only one close to breaking down. Get in and out. In and out. What had gone wrong?

But then he heard the sound of boots running across the muddy ground, his eyes shooting up to see Jesper carrying a bleeding Y/N.

She’s bleeding. Who had hurt her? Kaz wasn’t sure, but anger filled him. That was until he fully internalized that Y/N was bleeding.

“Jesper, what happened?”

Jesper helped Y/N into the safe house, his breathing heavy as he helped her onto the bed of one of the rooms. “Rollins. He got word of the job. We became overwhelmed and Y/N here took a bullet to the shoulder.” Then Wylan was practically engulfing Jesper in a hug.

How? Was Kaz’s initial thought, but with a huff, he closed his eyes. Moving over to follow Jesper, he took off his coat. Upon entering the room Y/N was sitting in, he nodded towards her good arm, silently asking for her to take off the sleeve of the arm that was hit.

“I thought we weren’t speaking?” Y/N asked, groaning as she pulled the sleeve of her bad shoulder off with some help from Inej who pushed everyone else out of the room. Inej left as well, but gave Kaz a nod to let her know when he would need help.

Kaz didn’t lift his eyes to look at Y/N, his eyes steady on the bullet lodged in her shoulder. He pulled out the medical kit under the bed. Always prepared, Y/N thought.

“How did Rollins find out?” Y/N asked, watching Kaz pick up tweezers from the small medical kit.

“I’m not sure, but I plan on figuring it out. Stay still.” And Y/N did, knowing this was hard enough as it was for Kaz, she didn’t want to make it any harder. Squeezing her eyes shut as she prepared for the pain. She gripped onto the bed, seething as Kaz took the bullet out with the tweezers.

“I hope you know, I didn’t mean any harm last week.” Kaz knew what Y/N was referring too, and he simply nodded for the moment. Picking up the bandages from the kit, Y/N shook her head.

“Get Inej to do it, you’ve already pushed yourself enough.”

“It’s fine,” Kaz spoke, his voice firm.

“Kaz, don’t-”

“I want too.” His eyes lifted to finally look up at Y/N. She looked down as well, silently nodding. She understood Kaz enough to know this was his apology for ignoring her the past week.

“My mother, she died from firepox,” Y/N spoke quietly. She didn’t know how Kaz would take her bringing it up, but she felt that if she didn’t, they’d build up all this anger again. They’d ignore one another again. Kaz stalled. Flashes of Jordie and Reapers Barge consumed him for a few moments. Y/N’s skin turned cold, icy and raw. He flinched away from the feeling.

Then he heard it - Y/N’s heartbeat. She was living. She wasn’t a corpse. The heartbeat and blood were testament to that. She isn’t dead. 

“I never told you how he died,” Kaz spoke quietly. He wasn’t used to talking about such subjects with anyone. It was the reason he’d taken on a different surname. That way he could cut ties with his past.

But for some reason, Y/N was able to make him feel . . . though begrudgingly, open with his past.

“I can infer, Kaz,” Y/N said with a small hiss as Kaz finished with the bandage, his hands shaky. “Now, you can continue ignoring me if you wish, I imagine you enjoy avoiding me.”

“I don’t enjoy it.” Kaz now had someone he connected with on a level he wasn’t used to. He wasn’t going to enjoy being apart from that.

“I know, I was simply making sure,” Y/N teased, her lips quirking in a small smile.

Kaz gave a small shake of his head, his lips pulling into a smile as well for just a moment. Then he picked up his coat he’d taken off. “I imagine you’re cold, here,” he spoke then, watching as Y/N took it and wrapped it around herself.

Then the door swung open, Nina rushing over to give Y/N a hug. “Kaz here almost had a heart attack. Wylan almost did. Jeez, never do that again,” she said, laughing a bit.

“Ouch, ouch, Nina,” Y/N spoke, referencing the still open wound on her shoulder.

“Sorry, sorry. We made food for you,” Nina said, smiling before handing Y/N a tray of food.

Kaz exited the room, allowing the others some time to talk to Y/N. Inej followed him, her arms crossed as she leaned against one of the walls.

“What information do you want me to get on Rollins?”

“Whatever you can find.” You’re not taking her from me Rollins, and you’d better be ready when I do come for you. Brick by Brick.

[autisticandroids]

Oh patron saint of mpreg, tell us, what is the absolute gold standard canon divergent mpreg scenario with Cas and Dean?

so for me the gold standard is for cas to get pregnant due to some kind of magical or metaphysical situation that dean at least does not perceive as sex. bonus points is cas is hesitant about it but refuses to explain why (because he doesn't know how dean will deal with the concept of himself being able to potentially get cas pregnant), so dean is like "we're doing it anyway" and then they do it and then cas doesn't tell anyone that he is pregnant until circumstances force the information out of him. and then dean has to deal with the fact that 1) cas can get pregnant, 2) cas is pregnant, 3) it's his, and he does so pretty poorly.

the rest is under a cut because this post is over 2.5k words long.

my favorite times for this to happen are at the end of season nine, just before dean dies and gets demonized in do you believe in miracles, and at the start of season twelve, just before sam and dean go to jail, because the pining in both those scenarios is delicious but it is so much more powerful if cas is also pregnant, and never even told dean. double points if the truth somehow comes out while they're separated so when dean comes back it's like. yeah cas is pregnant. it's yours. welcome home dean now you have to coddle cas' emotions because he thought he would have to raise your baby alone.

the season twelve scenario is particularly delicious because 1) we can have lucifer slut shaming cas in front of crowley in rock never dies, so crowley knows before dean, and 2) much more importantly, mary is there, and i am obsessed with like. okay. several things.

- the idea of mary getting all baby fever because she misses her boys and this is like. a baby she can take care of because she never got to take care of sam

- the idea of dean working through some of his parentification trauma by coparenting a child with the parent whose place he felt he had to take

- the idea of mary coming in and projecting her insane 1980s gender roles all over cas, suddenly treating him like a woman, stripping him of agency, etc. and like. dean would also do this even though he's not from the eighties, but mary would do it double strength, and they would reinforce each other, it would be a nightmare

- also mary trying to relate to cas on the Travails Of Motherhood etc. and cas being like ?????????? like i cannot stress enough that the weird gender roles she projects onto cas are also standards that she held herself to back when she was a Wife And Mother. while cas is like mary i am not a human woman and also i don't see what "having to look pretty for my man when i'm all baby bloaty" has to do with anything. that's not something i feel like i have to do

oh and 3) could you imagine lily sunder has some regrets if cas was pregnant? unfathomable episode. like ishim and mirabel's reaction but ALSO lily's. and it would fix the number one issue i have with lily sunder, which is that the resolution of the moral dilemma is "well AKSHUALLY the kid was human and not a nephilim so killing it was bad" rather than "it was bad to kill lily's baby, full stop." like ishim's cover up and using the machinery of power to manipulate the truth is very compelling, but the fact that it results in the moral essentially being "it would have been okay if the kid had been a nephilim" suuuuuucks.

basically, there's a reason i have two entire mpreg aus set in season twelve.

and then the delicious part in the season nine version is like. one, dean is away for much longer and he could be anywhere. also he's a demon and he's cheating on cas with crowley. and then even when cas gets him back he's still cursed with the mark, so we can get all weepy over that. you know. i'm the one who's going to have to watch you murder the world and i'm eight months pregnant. etc etc.

but the other thing that's juicy about this version is that cas is still semi-involved with the other angels at this point, like he's roadtripping around with hannah and they're trying to get heaven under control, so carrying a nephil is going to really affect those relationships. so he's going to be probably disliked by the other angels, and there are MANY opportunities for slut-shaming, but at the same time, the other "outcast" type angels might respect him for violating heaven's dictates.

and then of course there's his grace vampirism victorian wasting disease. in canon he's perfectly happy to let himself die, but if he were having dean's baby he would absolutely not do that, that's dean's baby he's endangering there. so of course there's the terrible guilt of having to kill other angels so he can live, plus potentially preparing to die shortly after childbirth so he doesn't have to keep killing. delicious.

and on top of all this cas can get slutshamed by metatron in, depending on when exactly he gets knocked up, meta fiction, stairway to heaven, and do you believe in miracles. plus stairway to heaven would be insane like all the angels would know that cas is pregnant. they would see it in his grace. like cas' angel army would just. know that he was pregnant with a nephil, and have to accept that because he's their leader. in love with humanity indeed.

i'm trying to think of other good times for this drama with cas getting secretly pregnant through a nonsexual interaction to take place. it would be great in season six. like: he's doing a blasphemy with his body but at the same time he's this big important rebel leader so they can't say shit about him, and also he's pregnant while fighting these big important battles (fun and sexy), AND this is like, hot on the heels of the realization that something about his feelings for dean is untoward, expands beyond the bounds of ordinary friendship and camaraderie. like he realizes that, and maybe even that he has sexual feelings for dean, and then he gets immediately knocked up. stunning.

it would ALSO be extremely fun for it to be some kind of... i don't know, magical longer gestation times, whatever, but for cas to have gotten pregnant sometime in s5 and only realized during the Year Of Lisa. LOVE to watch a man rake leaves while both metaphorically carrying the taint of taboo sexual feelings for him and literally carrying his child.

but the thing about season six is, first of all, cas isn't really... envisioning a future with dean. not the way he does in the later seasons. like does he fantasize about a future with dean? yes. like. he really did watch that motherfucker rake leaves. but it's only fantasy. he expected to never speak to dean again after swan song until dean prayed to him in the third man. he's obsessed with dean, but it's distant. remote.

like, we talk about cas babytrapping dean in the later seasons with jack, and he absolutely does, and he would do it even more if dean got him literally pregnant, but that babytrap is about... how do i put this. it's about winning dean's affection. late seasons cas knows that he's going to die by dean's side. the difference that babytrapping dean makes is that maybe it will get dean to be nice to him in the mean time, instead of discarding him like so much toilet paper.

but season six cas doesn't think of it like that. if he were gonna babytrap dean, it would be in the more traditional sense of forcing dean to stay with him in order to raise their child together. and he would never do that. he wants dean to have a happy future, which in his mind does not include him. like, compare here "he's retired and he's to stay that way" in the man who would be king, where cas assumes that dean is happy without him and expects him to live out his days peacefully without ever seeing him again, to "i'm the one who's going to have to watch you murder the world" in the prisoner, where cas assumes that he will be by dean's side for centuries.

but anyway, the other, much more important problem with season six is that cas has a war to fight. like, in the later seasons, cas really has nothing. even when he's on tenuous good terms with the angels, he doesn't really have a home with them. the winchesters are his family, and he'd give up anything for them. he has nothing in his life. he's at rock bottom, and this becomes truer the further along you go. late seasons cas has nothing he would prioritize over serving the winchesters, and he would be happy dropping anything he was involved in to have and raise dean's baby. parenting would give him a purpose that he no longer has, because everything else has been stripped from him.

but in season six cas has a life outside of them. like yes, he has a war to fight, but he also has a place in heaven, with the other angels. he belongs somewhere, he has solid connections to the outside world. even if he didn't have a war to fight, i don't know how excited he would be to have and raise a baby (even dean's baby) because he simply has other things he could be doing. he's involved in the world beyond the winchesters.

like, the reason cas wants to be a parent is that he is totally alone and totally purposeless. having a child gives him both a reason for being and someone who will always love him and who he can care for. if he doesn't have that hole in his life he might not be so eager to fill it with a baby.

for all these reasons, this plotline really doesn't work in season six, because you simply cannot justify cas not getting an abortion, unless you do something nasty like make angel abortion impossible, which i don't love.

you COULD somehow put the impregnation just at the end of season six, maybe just before the man who would be king, such that cas doesn't realize he's pregnant until he's already godstiel. you guys are unfortunately very aware of how obsessed i am with pregnant godstiel.

actually, @jeanne-de-valois has a concept of like. a single, madness fueled midnight hookup immediately pre-tmwwbk (or maybe even during, but prior to the superman mistake), where cas is simultaneously so stressed from being stretched so thin from the war and the lying and the shady dealings, and so high on being The Big Man In Heaven, that he's bold and out of his mind enough to actually come onto dean, like he just appears one night in dean's bedroom and is like, fuck me, and dean is like 👁👄👁 okay. so they have one single adrenaline and madness fueled hookup, and then everything immediately goes to shit.

and i think that's a great place for cas to get pregnant, and then he doesn't realize until he's become god, or maybe he does and he's just like "i'll deal with it later," either way godstiel is like oh? i carry dean's heir inside me? i will have dean's baby. i will have dean's baby it is my right and also my boon to him and also a symbol of my great and magnanimous love for humanity. and also maybe i will put giant paintings of myself pregnant with his child up in churches. what about that. which would be fun. don't know when he would give birth though. actually it would be insane if he gave birth as emmanuel and was just like. raising dean's nephil when dean found him again. nuts. but it just doesn't really have the same flavor as late seasons mpreg. doesn't compel me nearly as much. like the symbolism of godstiel being pregnant with dean's child is fun and sexy but them actually raising the kid afterwards doesn't compel me nearly as much, so it's better to leave literal mpreg to the later seasons and let godstiel mpreg reside in symbolism and fantasy.

or maybe the fetus gets stolen by the leviathans when cas walks into the lake and dean has to battle his leviathanated nephil daughter as the main villain of s7. like she's dick roman's secret weapon. i think that would be fun, actually. kind of an emma situation but drawn out over the whole season. and he thinks cas is dead for most of it so she's all he's got left of cas and a mess cas left for him to clean up. big sexy.

and as a bonus, i will also tell you the best time, imo, for dean to get pregnant: near the end of season eight. possibly a single, tragic farewell fuck in sacrifice when cas is planning to lock himself away in heaven and they're never gonna see each other again. and this impregnates dean with cas' nephil.

but then cas is human. and he can't do anything about it. like generally if they managed to get dean pregnant somehow, cas would immediately talk him into an abortion (which wouldn't be too hard; dean's natural white midwestern man who doesn't vote aversion to abortion would be at war with the horror of being pregnant, and the horror would win), or might not even inform dean that he's pregnant, and just quietly end the pregnancy without dean's knowledge, because cas would never put dean through that. but if cas is human, he can't do that. and furthermore, that nephil is the last evidence of his angelic nature that persists. it's the last of what he used to be, the last of his grace. and there's something absolutely delectable about that.

then of course dean would have to leave the bunker if he was pregnant with a nephil, because angels would be after him, and he wouldn't want to lead them to gadreel, so i am imagining dean discovering that he's pregnant and then showing up in a panic at the gas n sip like "actually cas i'm also out of the bunker will you go on the run with me?" and then they go on the run and have to live in motels again and cas gets to live with take care of dean who is pregnant with his child which is essentially his dream, and he doesn't have to feel guilty because he's no longer capable of giving dean an abortion so he doesn't feel obligated to get him to have one. ideally cas gets re-angeled just in time to give dean an angelic c-section. or maybe they rely on a normal human c-section in a hospital and cas stays human and they are two humans raising their nephil, which is also fun to me.

[mega-bastard]

Bitch in Heat Stuck Under Debris Gets WRECKED

a miki mouse whorehouse collab, the m.list you can find here 

cw: sexual harrassment, abo themes, dubcon kinda

as the poor quality picture can’t really show you, I got stuckage and I chose Bakugo with the finishing touch of making it ABO <3 It’s also two days late but shhhhh we don’t talk about it uwu also 2.7 words of pain enjoy 

katsuki bakugou is becoming a thorn in your side.

you’ve both been metaphorically and somewhat literally glued to each others sides since highschool. it’s not necessarily a bad thing, to be quite frank katsuki is something of a deterrent in a world of second genders and pheromones— something you capitalized on in high school.

being an omega hero isn’t something entirely world shattering, but it’s a position that comes with lots of stereotypes— stereotypes you fought tooth and nail to fight against in your younger years. being one of four omegas in your class was...irritating, to say the least. lots of preconceived notions that you needed to be helped with trivial things, and while your classmates intentions came from a good place it was maddening. save for katsuki, back when he had no restraint with his anger and aggression, he didn’t coddle you like your classmates did. Labeled a brute for his actions towards his omega classmates in trivial interaction or sparring, you thrived on the normality— katsuki was an ass to everyone. Your omega was placated, finally encountering an alpha who wasn’t belittling her with preconceived daintiness.

it was easy to hang near katsuki, ignoring the atrocity that was his vocabulary. eventually like the rest of the peanut gallery that was the bakusquad, you just existed alongside katsuki— which meant that you grew on him. katsuki swears up and down that you’re all a nuisance but you’ve seen him go up to bat for all you at some point, you knew you’d all made some sort of ragtag pack with one another. this was rather amazing to you at the time, not to sell yourself short but you’d never really imagined belonging to a close knit group of friends— especially realizing that they understood when it was appropriate to step in for you. katsuki in particular had a knack for being at the right place at the right time.

During your second year you fumbled.

interning with miruko had its perks, a top 5 hero with raw strength, cunning, and the drive to just keep going— and an omega. landing and internship with her had been a dream, even more-so when you learned she’d been watching you since your first year because of the festival. bright eyed and eager, nothing could have dampened your spirits— neither katsuki and his usual moody behavior or the standoffish alpha from shiketsu. yes, you all had landed an internship with miruko and part of you was...worried? katsuki had never looked down on heroes based on their second genders but you couldn’t speak for the shiketsu alpha, both alphas interning under an established omega hero put your inner omega on edge— you didn’t quite know why though. but you chose to squash the feeling and enjoy your internship with who was essentially your idol and continue on.

then you started getting sexually harassed.

his name was omori kisai and he was the worst. hailing from shiketsu, known for their dignified schooling, he was far from it. salacious comments dropped when no one was listening, less that appropriate touching when passing by and just general ick that had your skin crawling and omega snarling. it was easy to brush it off as banter the first time, section off the awkward contact as an accident. The second time you made it clear the comments were not liked and the touches far from appropriate, after the third time you’d snap an insult or have to hold a trembling fish from making contact. but it was coming to a head and your suppressors could only do so much to hide your souring scent. looking back you should have said something, but your pride had told you that it was a necessary step to overcome and push through— that he wouldn’t be the last. it weighed you down, day by day, a heavy cloud that wouldn’t let up. one particular bad timed comment brought tears to eyes and shame to your entire being.

thankfully, as time would come to show, katsuki tended to nose into your dilemmas.

the day prior to the abrupt end of your harassment  you’d been tripped up by a villian and had fallen a sizeable distance into a pitiful excuse of pond. of course, omori had taken this as an open invitation to mock you and then offer you his shitty hero costume cloak— not without hinting at you returning the favor ‘somehow’. yeah right. you had stomped off, unaware of katsuki’s presence nearby. come next day, omori avoided you like the plague and katsuki not so subtly stuck to your side like an unwilling chowchow— all growly and temperamental. but his constant presence rubbed his scent off on you. despite his less than chummy attitude, you weren’t mad; katsuki smelled like cinnamon spice and whiskey with hints of burnt caramel— absolutely overpowering yet decadent all the same.

you tried not to think about just how much you enjoyed his smell. your omega was purring about it.

the omori incident was the beginning of katsuki’s subtle hovering. though you pried the truth of his involvement in omori leaving you alone after offhandedly bringing it up to mina and jirou one day, katsuki helped you out of situations as invasively as possible time and time again. by the end of third year it was no secret to you of your classmates teasing of your relationship with katsuki; an amiable and prideful omega and the irritable powerhouse of an alpha. you brushed it off because...well you didn’t know why, but katsuki’s seeming indifference to the teasing had you quelling every jittery happiness your inner omega expressed at the thought of katsuki being your alpha.

now, three years out of highschool and beginning to climb the ranks, katsuki was becoming testy— and for the life of you the reason couldn’t be more opaque.  you both work at the same agency, and due to the nature of your quirks you spend all your time together due to their compatibility. compatibility was a bitter word for you, katsuki and yours supposed compatibility had been talked about for some time now but the sobering reality is that perhaps you two were simply good friends— and now sharing your omegas endearment for the explosive alpha had reared its ugly head.

your heat was a week away and already you felt the familiar fatigue begin to lap at you alongside general moodiness. all that coupled with the annoying need to be around katsuki was maddening and sprinkling his own extra grouchy attitude on top and you were ready to snap. in hindsight, that should have been your cue to take an extra week off— instead you chose to once again to champion pride instead of your intellect.

you could have stayed home this morning, you should have.

patrol had been slow, not particularly unusual but favored nonetheless. face raised to the slowly dipping sun you couldn’t help but sigh, the warmth of the late afternoon sun was heaven sent-- you could sleep standing up with much issue. it remided you katsuki, strangely enough though most things did recently.

the sound of screaming and rushing feet shook you from your drowsy stupor. Set on alert, you spied the source of the sudden discordance and found several villains causing a commotion. quickly calling for backup for you before finding yourself facing a hulking mass of green charging you head on. tranquility gone, it was time to fight.

the ache in your body could not be more apparent but your humiliation ran more rampant in your system than any ache or pain could, your fatigue more than present as your body hummed with warmth. leave it to you to get stuck face down and ass up amongst the trashed ruins of what was an office building, weighed down between a broken desk and a collapsed bookshelf. the villain you had engaged with, some self-named idiot calling himself cruel croc, packed a punch and your bruised body and rendered office floor were a testament to that. of course, you’d done quite the bit of damage to him yourself before the entire floor collapsed underneath you both— rendering the meathead unconscious under a rather hefty pile of concrete and debris whereas you were pinned and to utterly weak to do much.

the thrum of your heat was beginning its path of vengeance through your body, feeling too pliant to get yourself out of what was otherwise easy to fix problem. you were feeling it, bad. the heat of your clothed cunt was beginning to become too apparent, unconsciously squeezing your thighs to provide relief to no avail. no, this could not be happening right now of all times. but as much as your inner monologue fought to try and will away your heat, the warmth was becoming too much and sudden breeze of wind had you trembling and whining. the feel of slick beginning to wet your hero costumes spandex set your hazing thoughts into sudden panic, if cruel croc woke up or if another villain came across you would they be above...the thought alone could’ve made you puke. flashbacks to second year had you bucking wildly for freedom, you wouldn’t let anyone have the opportunity for—

“ OI! Shitty ‘mega were are you? Are you—“

you stilled, biting hard to keep your mouth shut. your omega was whimpering, desperate for the alpha, HER alpha to relieve her from her heat. on a normal day she could melt into his scent, but right now? she could drown in it and die happy. with his scent getting stronger the closer katsuki clambered toward you, the more the head haze grew-- the slicker your thighs became. the whimper you let loose was pitiful, the need for some sort of stimulation to your cunt becoming near painful the longer you remained so close yet so far from katsuki. the pathetic little “alpha” you whined as you heard him quickly approach from behind would’ve been utterly embarrassing to you in any other situation.

but if you could have turned to see katsuki, you would’ve been met with the look of an unmistakably feral alpha-- pupils dilated to hell, fingernails blackened, and canines elongated and sharpened. but what you lacked in sight, you could hear and smell.

katsuki was the definition of an alpha as is, but the way he was pushing his scent out was like a big red sign that screamed ‘DANGER’. To you, it had you feeling utterly submissive-- if you weren’t already face down and ass up you certainly would’ve moved into position.  practically salivating at the thought of what katsuki could do--

the heated palm on the globe of your ass is thought pausing, the sudden heated touch coaxing a sugary sweet moan from deep in your throat-- the small touch quickly turning to rough palming at your moaning. tt feels so good, but you want more. need more. 

“Please, need more Alpha” it's breathy and whiny, something you're far from day to day but it feels too natural escaping you. mewling at the ghost of a touch over your clothed cunt, your blubbering when it presses harder-- escalating you to tears of frustration when it ceases. practically feeling katsuki’s harsh breathing near your cunt you begin to wiggle and wail with all manner of unrestrained vigor; chanting alpha and katsuki like a prayer and begging for relief like a sinner for forgiveness. it’s working, you know it is, if katsuki’s breathing is anything to go by but he refuses any further touching. you want katsuki everyday, but right now you need him. 

“Only want you Katsuki, please it’s only been you,” you hiccup your words through a shrill plea, but the tearing of your soaked spandex sends an excited chill down your spine. your legs tremble with excitement when katsuki grips the tops of your thighs and spreads them-- revealing your drooling cunt. it’s both too much and not enough all at once and you wiggle once more, yelping from a smack to your left ass cheek. it’s not particularly painful, not even as katsuki rubs over it right after the hit, but it quells your wiggling nonetheless. you open your mouth to urge him on but he beats you to it.

“No one else, you got that ‘mega? No one gets to see you like this, no gets to touch you like this-- your mine,” he punctuates his declaration with two of his deliciously thick fingers in your cunt and you squeal, “ you got that? I’m your alpha, always have been always will be.” nodding despite yourself, you struggle for words with his fingers pumping in and out alongside the ghost of pressure on your clit “Yes! Yes, I’m yours Katsuki!” you babble your words already teetering on the precipice of your first orgasm. it takes a pickup in pace and a rough rub along your clit and your wailing, slick streaming down your thighs as your first orgasm crashes into you.

despite the pleasant haze in your head, you faintly hear zippers being undone and the shuffling of clothes. licking your lips, you perk your ass up as much as the heavy bookcase allows, purring in excitement like a spoiled cat. The rough grab of your hips leaves you gasping, feeling the length of katsukis dick along your thigh-- long and heavy. you're salivating as he lines himself up with your weeping cunt, ramming his entire length in you with little regard. stars shoot across your vision and your ears deafen, crying out at being so full. it feels wonderful being stuffed this full and you babble it to katsuki. if you could see him, you would see just how prideful and smug he looked-- only he can take care of you like this, none of the other shitty alphas can take care of you this well.

katsuki sets a rough pace, drawing himself out slowly like he’s aiming for you to feel every vein of his dick before slamming back into you. your poor cunt clenches sporadically, drawing groans and growls from your alpha and all you can do is choke on broken moans because the way he feels churning your insides is downright sinful. you felt a band begin to tighten in your belly, your broken moans evolving into babbling-- how good katsuki was making you feel and how he was the only one who made you feel this good. it spurred him onward, fucking into you with more vigor alongside groans of your names and his own praise for you. “Good fuckin ‘mega”, “Takin’ me so well”, and “My perfect little mate” were some of the praise you could catch and had you preening. All of it combined you felt the band tighten and you couldn’t stop yourself from sobbing out. feeling the base of Katsuki’s length begin to swell, you could only salivate at the thought of being knotted.

“Want your knot Katsuki! Alpha I need it”

 at your blubbering demand, katsuki faltered in pace for only a moment before a deep mix of a groan and growl ripped from his throat. grabbing and bending your leg upwards he fucked deeper and faster into your battered cunt, the new angle sending you hurtling into your orgasm. eyes rolled back and tongue, you felt utterly boneless-- momentarily brain dead before screaming out at Katsuki knotting you, his own groan of pleasure mixing with yours as he filled you impossibly full with his seed. 

 trembling underneath him, you were only a fraction aware of movement above you before the weight of the bookcase vanished from you. weakly you glance back up at your alpha. your surprised to see just how feral he looks, no doubt you’ve pushed him into his rut. whimpering as he moves down upon you, he nibbles and kisses along your jaw and neck before biting down on you scent gland. a flash a white hot pain curtailed by just as intense pleasure wracks your wrecked body but the dopy look of happiness pulls a low purr from katsuki.

you wanna say something, anything, but your too exhausted and as katsuki knot subsides you let another weak whimper as he removes himself-- feeling his seed spill from your battered cunt. he pulls a quiet moan from you as he gathers some of it a pushes back in-- and a glance at his smug face lets you know that he’s decidedly not done with you yet.

[soleilsuhh]

— the four times you almost said ‘i love you’ [and the one time he did].

pairing. jaehyun x gender neutral! reader.

genre. angst. fluff. best-friends-to-lovers. mutual pining. high-school/college au.

word count. 1.5k words.

i. the first time you almost said it — you were both fifteen, and you were at your friend’s birthday party.

the music was so loud that it made your skin tingle and you could feel your heart beat in accordance to the thump of the bass. you liked this song. you liked it because it wasn’t just any song — “our song,” he had called it the past few months when you first discovered it together at a small, local record store. and right now, he looked back at you with that knowing grin and before long, he was leading you towards the dance floor despite your unsure protests.

when you reached there, a distant, faded chatter could be heard as he pulled you closer. he dropped his head slightly, his voice raised to a slight yell over the music, “i asked the dj to play it!” 

you feigned an offended look, “i thought it was our song!” 

your best-friend flashed you that half-grin you hated and loved so much, “it still is,” 

the music got louder, drawing you in. and soon, you were dancing with him. at one point, you asked him to spin you around and he did: he spun you round and round in circles until you almost stumbled against him and you would have fell over if it weren’t for his quick reflexes and hands that held you up. 

the joyous sound of laughter rang in your ears — yours and his. what a beautiful sound, you thought, you liked it even more than the music. then as he helped you straighten up, both of you still lost in the moment, the words almost came out of your mouth: “i love —” you stopped yourself but he caught on. 

“yeah?” he yelled over the music. 

you gave him a smile, “i was gonna say i love this!” 

a lie. the truth was you were going to say you loved him. you loved him; how could you not when he was smiling at you like that?

ii. the second time you almost said it — it was during the summer holidays; you were both sixteen. together with his mom and dad, he was over at your parent’s house for dinner. you were sitting across from each other at the dining table. your mom and his mom had been very close friends since high-school and it was an unspoken tradition they made up to have dinner at one another’s house every other weekend.

you were honestly losing interest as the adults continued their conversation. and so of course, your eyes found their way to him, with his plain black t-shirt and his hair neat except for that particular strand that fell across his eyebrows. 

from across the table, he caught your eyes and as he smiled, your eyes drifted to the pair of dimples that appeared on his cheeks; seeing them, it made you smile, which in turn, made him smile even more. and soon you both sat there, forgetting about your surroundings and the food that was getting cold as you grinned at each other, trying to stifle the giggles that were threatening to tumble out of your mouths. 

“okay, you two, stop making goo-goo eyes at each other and eat your food,” you heard your mom say beside you. 

you were abruptly pulled back to reality and you averted your gaze, feeling the warmth spread on your cheeks. “mom, seriously,” you managed to mutter. 

“the food is delicious as always, mrs. [y/l/n],” jaehyun said. 

that made your mom smile affectionately at him like he was her own son, which again, made you smile as your heart filled with warmth. and just like that, you almost said it to him, but you swallowed the words by quickly gulping down a glass of water. it scared you how natural it felt to almost say it even in front of your family and his. 

iii. the third time you almost said it — it happened a few weeks after your seventeenth birthday. 

you were pressed against the couch, his hands on either side of your head. it started as a harmless play-fighting after bickering about which movie to watch but one thing led to another and now you were here. 

heat rose from your stomach to your chest and then to your face. his lips were getting closer and your heart raced, the scent of him suddenly hyptonic. “erm — your lips are getting very close to mine,” you said, voice breathless and barely above whisper. 

“i know,” he said quietly, pausing. “should i stop?” 

you almost shook your head ‘no.’ don’t stop, you wanted to say. but you pushed him away slightly which was enough indication for him; he looked at you for a moment, his eyes held a look that resembled too much like hurt for a second but almost immediately, he gave you that half-smile again. he pulled away and instinctively rubbed the back of his neck. you also slowly sat up and both of you looked at anywhere else but each other. 

you thought that maybe this was the time to tell him; if not now then when? 

just as you were about to say those three words, he spoke cooly, “it’s alright, we don’t need to talk about it,” he had decided to revert his attention back to the movie catalogue on netflix, like nothing happened. “i guess we can watch the one that you wanted to...” he mumbled, casually. 

your heart ached but you simply said, “yeah, sounds good,” 

iv. the fourth time you almost said it — it was the year you were both moving away for college — yours was not that far from home but him...he was going abroad. 

in the gloom of the moonless night, your fingers almost touch as you walked side-by-side. you knew this was a good-bye; he was leaving in the morning and although you had barely succeeded trying not to think about it while spending the whole day with him, everything felt too real right now and you couldn’t ignore the dull ache in your heart. heavy, the air seemed as the sight of your house got bigger with each step you took. you wanted to prolong this moment with him and yet you wanted it to be over soon. 

as you reached in front of your house, you finally looked at him with a mask of contentment. you wished him well with a voice that sounded like you and yet it didn’t.

“you’re acting like we won’t ever see each other again,” he almost scoffed but you could see the sadness welling in his eyes behind that smile. 

just say it, a voice inside your head told you. but instead, you just gave him a soft smile, “see you tomorrow at the airport,” 

you couldn’t help but think about how this would be the last ‘see you tomorrow’ for a long time. 

“okay,” he said. 

you turned around to go but before you could take two steps, he grabbed your hand. you stared at each other for a long second.

“i, erm —” he paused then said, “don’t be late tomorrow,” 

“i won’t be,” 

another long second of just wordlessly looking at each other until he finally let go of your hand and you walked away. 

v. the one time he did — it had been a little over a year since you last saw each other. 

you were both back at your hometown for the summer holidays and for two months, you had been inseparable. your days blended together seamlessly and something between you felt more than just simple friendship. you were going on dates without calling them dates, you were sleeping over at each other’s places, making breakfast together, even something as little as grocery shopping, you did it together. you spent time with his family and he spent time with yours.

and right now, you were in his old bedroom, flipping through the photo albums with him, pointing out each embarrassing pose, expression, and making fun of each other. you loved how you were also there in the photographs and amidst the laughter, your eyes almost stung with a realization as you looked at him, sitting in front of you on the bed; this was the boy you had known for more than half your lives, the boy you you fell in love with since you were fifteen, the boy who was the cause of your many happy moments, the boy who was the reason for the sleepless nights —

you were in such a daze and so lost in your own thoughts that you weren’t sure if you dreamed this moment to life, but there was raw emotions in the way he looked at you and in the ways his fingers curled around yours as his face inched closer. 

“erm, jae, your lips are getting a little too close...” 

a rush of deja-vu hits you. 

“Mm,” he said, “do you want me to stop?” 

you looked at him for a long second, and this time around, you met his lips half-way. with a single kiss, you could feel the aches and the pains of all those years gradually lifting. you parted for a moment and you felt that all-too familiar feeling again, bubbling up inside you. 

“i love you,” 

the words hadn’t come out of your mouth but his. you tensed and stared at him before you felt your whole being soften from the look in his eyes. you could feel yourself letting go and for once, you didn’t stop yourself. 

“i love you too,” you whispered, and you said it again louder, “i love you,” 

he smiled. there it was again; the smile of his that made you smile. 

he squeezed your hand, “i know, y/n,” he said, his voice was low and tender, “i know,” 

[guardianofrivendell]

Dwarves Always Knock Thrice

Requested: Yes and no. @estethell​ challenged me to write a modern AU with Fíli and Kíli knocking at the reader’s door instead of Bilbo’s by mistake. I interpreted it as a ‘what if Fíli and Kíli end up in modern day Europe?’

Warnings: none so far, I wrote this with a fem!reader (sorry! I try to write more gender neutral in the future, I promise)

Summary: What if one day your favorite fictional characters knock on your door? A modern AU with a twist! (any similarities to what I would do in this case are purely coincidental 😏)

A/N: Yes, yes, I know. There are hundreds of fics like this one. But none of them were written by me and my weird sense of humor 😆 Depending on the response I’ll turn this into a multichapter fic, if not this will stay a standalone oneshot. 

Humming a rather cheerful tune, you pressed the button on top of the coffee machine and your morning fuel started dripping into your favorite cup. You waited patiently until the foam reached the edge and then you turned the machine off. With the cup held between your hands, you inhaled deeply. Nothing like the smell of fresh coffee for a perfect start of the day.

A few minutes ago your boyfriend had left to go to work, only to see him again by the end of next week. He was going on a citytrip with your group of friends for a few days, which had been planned ages ago.  You were supposed to go with them, but unfortunately, you didn’t have any vacation days left. No, it was back to work for you instead. 

Not that you minded. You loved your job, and you were lucky enough to be able to work from home when you wanted to. It didn’t actually feel like work that way. At least you had decent coffee, you didn’t have to dress up and you could take a break whenever you wanted.  And now with your boyfriend gone for the week, you had no interruptions and lots of quiet evenings to look forward to. Cheers to that, you thought while you sipped at your coffee. 

The dinner table became your makeshift workplace, coffee within reach. There were no video meetings scheduled today so you were wearing your favorite pair of black leggings and a long oversized knitted sweater, with fluffy socks on your feet to complete your comfy outfit. 

You moved your computer mouse and your laptop sprung to life.  James, your Sphynx cat, hopped on the table and pushed his head in your hand, demanding cuddles.

“Another day at the office, how dreadful,” you smiled, petting him behind his ear. James purred and started to bathe himself. 

He was a Sphynx cat, so there was no fur. Nothing but flawless pink skin, soft to the touch. It almost felt like petting a warm peach. You chuckled at the comparison, and James stopped his grooming to look at you. 

“Oh, I’m sorry your Majesty. I’ll let you to it.” 

You booped his nose and got to work. 

After a day of sifting through emails, processing data and editing documents and spreadsheets, you felt utterly exhausted. A phrase your boyfriend likes to throw at you on these moments suddenly came to mind, ‘How can you be so tired when you’ve done nothing but sit down on your ass all day?’ Always the charmer.

You stood up, raised your arms above your head and stretched, groaning in the process. You froze when your stretch session was interrupted by three knocks on your front door. 

“Who still knocks these days?”

It was almost 6 pm, slowly turning dark outside and you’d let the shutters down about an hour ago. It was something you did as soon as the sun was setting. It was silly really, but it made you feel safe. 

But now it prevented you from seeing who was at your door.

The neighbours from down the street wouldn’t come by for a visit, they were the kind of people that liked to keep to themselves. Your parents would call first, so… a polite burglar perhaps?

You couldn’t be too careful these days, especially now, when you were alone, so you went to your intercom first to see who was at the door. 

The camera didn’t show anyone. You could see a part of your front yard, but that was it. Strange… You thought you could hear voices, so maybe there was someone at the door after all. Maybe someone had driven their car into the ditch. Wouldn’t be the first time. You lived in the countryside, with roads where only one car at a time could pass, with ditches on both sides. A challenge for city people, and the occasional daredevil usually had to be towed out of said ditch. 

What’s life without a little risk, you thought, and made your way to the front door. You weren’t the one to turn away from people in need. It would probably get yourself killed one day, you were too kind and gullible and people tended to take advantage of that. 

Another three knocks sounded, a little louder this time and you swung the door open. 

“Finally!”

Your boyfriend rushed inside and shot up the stairs. When you looked to your driveway, you saw his car with the lights on, the motor still running. He was running late again. As usual. 

After a few minutes he thundered down the stairs, his hiking boots in hand. 

“Almost forgot these,” he said while lifting them. He kissed your cheek and ran off.  You sighed. “See you next week, sweet. I’ll miss you.” 

Sarcasm was your way to cope, to learn how to deal with the lack of love and care. Because who were you kidding? He wouldn't miss you. 

You shuffled to your kitchen, in need of something hot. To drink, that is. And while the coffee machine filled your cup for the second time that day, you rubbed your face with your hands trying to think of how you had ended up in this situation in the first place… 

“Just try and enjoy a week by yourself,” you whispered. 

You were about to take a first sip when three knocks sounded for the third time.

“Seriously?”

When you opened the door, you couldn’t stop the massive eyeroll when you saw it was your boyfriend again. 

“Hand me the reservation papers of the hotel, will you? I forgot them and I need the address for the gps,” he said. 

“I sent it in an email to Tom, and I put the address in the gps system yesterday. Now go, you’re late enough as it is. Call me when you get there okay?”

He smiled and kissed your cheek again. 

“Bye! Enjoy your week by yourself!�� “I will, don’t worry,” you smiled. 

Before you closed the door there was a bright white flash. You covered your ears on instinct, something you always did when there was a thunderstorm. 

“That was very closeby,” your boyfriend gasped. “They didn’t say anything about a thunderstorm tonight.” “I’m not sure that was lightning… there was no thunder?” “It’s probably nothing to worry about.”

And with those words your boyfriend left for the second time that night. 

After closing the front door with a small heart, you tried to calm yourself.  You were terrified of thunderstorms, and you really didn’t feel like going through one when you were on your own. Let’s just hope he was right and it was nothing, you thought. 

Your coffee…! Taking a sip from the now lukewarm drink, you pondered if you would make it into an Irish or Italian one. Heaven knows you deserved it, right?  With your coffee still in hand you made your way over to the liquor cabinet, only to be interrupted by yet another pair of knocks on the front door.

“I’m going to kill him,” you murmured while you walked into the hallway. “What could he have possibly forgotten this time?”

You swung the door open with a little too much force, but you couldn’t care less by that time. The small amount of patience you had left was already out of the window and you just wanted to enjoy your spiked coffee. 

“What did you forg-?!”

Your voice got caught in your throat when your eyes fell on your visitors. Visitors. As in plural. Definitely not your boyfriend.  You recognized them immediately, there was no doubt who they were but… it couldn’t be! This was simply impossible!

In your shock you forgot you were holding your cup of coffee and it slipped out of your hand. The cup completely shattered on the floor but you hardly noticed. 

Because right in front of you, in the light of your porch light at your very own doorstep, stood Fíli and Kíli. 

As in Fíli and Kíli, nephews to Thorin, King under the Mountain. As in Fíli and Kíli, characters from The Hobbit. Fictional characters. With a heavy emphasis on ‘fictional’. Made up by Tolkien. 

So how the hell was it possible that they were standing in front of you, alive and well?

The two Durin brothers were a bit taken aback so it seemed, because they too remained silent at first. After a few awkward seconds Kíli was the one who decided to speak up instead of his older brother. He was clutching his sword and quiver, just like he did in the movie. 

“Kíli,” he began. He was side eyeing his brother who was still staring at you, and smacked Fíli’s chest when he didn’t respond.  “What?”  “Kíli,” Kíli repeated, pointing at himself and then at his brother who finally caught on. “And Fíli.” “At your service,” they both continued, bowing deeply.

“Y/N, at yours,” you responded without a second thought.  Kíli’s face split into a wide smile.

“We’re looking for master Boggins!” “Yeah, I kind of expected you to say that,” you murmured, but they heard you. “Oh, so you’re a seer?” Kíli assumed excitedly. “No! No, I’m just… me. But there is no mister Baggins here,” you said, correcting Kíli. “Are we at the wrong house?” Fíli wondered.   “I’m afraid so.” “Well… can you help us find him?” Kíli looked at you expectantly.

You sighed. “I would but, I’m afraid it’s a little more complicated than that.”

Both of their faces fell. They were so in character, if someone was pranking you, they did one hell of a job in finding these two actors. And their costumes were spot on, from the carvings on Kíli’s bow to the colour of Fíli’s fur coat. It was scaringly accurate… They looked so much like Dean and Aidan’s version, but not quite. You didn’t know why exactly, but you had the feeling they were real. They were Fíli and Kíli, sons of Dís. 

Fíli stared at you with a confused expression. “What do you mean, my lady?”

Oh. Now, if you weren’t already a little enamored by their looks, the title he just gave you would have. You weren’t exactly used to endearments. 

Not that Fíli had meant as an endearment but you wouldn’t mind if they called you my lady for the rest of your life. It just made you grow a couple of inches. 

“I’m probably going to regret this, but… come in.”  You stepped aside so they could enter the hallway. 

The heavy boots they were wearing made scratching sounds on your tile floor and your mind immediately went to your delicate wooden floors in the rest of your house. 

You were going to sound extremely bossy and uptight but you had to think of your interior. 

“Could you both maybe take off your boots?”

The two brothers looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. 

“If you want?” Fíli asked you. 

“Please.”

You took the swords and quiver from Kíli so he had his hands free and placed them in a corner of your hallway. Fíli followed your example and added his own weapons to the pile. 

“I trust you not to attack us when we’re unarmed,” he winked at you. 

You smiled back at him, knowing all too well he still had some smaller knives hidden somewhere.  For a moment the thought of reenacting the knife scene in Mirkwood crossed your mind, but you thought better of it. He wouldn’t find it as funny as you thought it was and you’d probably lose a finger or two if you tried to take a knife from him. It was best not to challenge him. Yet. 

Once their boots were placed neatly next to their weapons, you motioned them to follow you into your living room. Your eyes drifted to the shards of your coffee mug and the spilled coffee, you needed to clean it up but it simply had to wait.

“I don’t really know how to begin explaining all this,” you said, while waving your arms around you, “but it might be a good idea if we sit down?”

You gestured towards the sitting area and both brothers took a seat on your couch.

It seemed like they didn’t know where to look first.  Their eyes wandered to your tv, surround system, laptop, aquarium, … 

Kíli whispered something in Fíli’s ear, to which the older brother shrugged his shoulders.

“Do you want to drink anything?” you suggested. “I have water, milk, beer, …”

Their eyes lit up when you mentioned the beer, so you nodded your head. 

“Beer it is, although I need to warn you. It’s Belgian beer, so it’s probably a lot stronger than what you guys are used to.”

You mentally facepalmed at your last sentence, why did you even mention that? They didn’t realize they were in a different universe, so mentioning your country would give them zero information. 

“I think we can handle it just fine,” Kíli commented with a smirk. Fíli nodded in agreement.  “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

After another look at the dwarves on your couch, you disappeared into your kitchen. You fetched two beer glasses out of the dishwasher and two bottles of beer from your fridge, before you noticed how much your hands were shaking.

Okay, Y/N, you need to calm down first… Easy to say when you have two dwarves sitting in your living room. Dwarves! And your favorite dwarves too.  How many times had you imagined this exact moment in your fantasies? In your dreams? 

Of course! That was it…!  You probably fell asleep at your laptop and you were dreaming.  But then why did it feel so real?

Maybe someone was pranking you after all? Nah, that wasn’t likely. Nobody knew you were even in the Tolkien fandom. Let alone who your favorite characters were. 

So it must be a dream... But if you were dreaming, they definitely would have been an exact copy of the movie Fíli and Kíli. As in, Dean and Aidan in costumes. The ones sitting on your couch looked slightly different, still handsome - Mahal, did they look handsome - but you would probably refer to them as discount Dean and Aidan. 

Your small mental breakdown was interrupted when Kili started to scream. 

“What is that?!”

Quickly snatching the bottles and glasses in both of your hands, you hurried back to the Durin princes. 

When you entered your living room, you were met with quite the hilarious view. Tolkien had described Fíli and Kíli as fearless and courageous, but there was nothing courageous about their behaviour right now.Fíli was sitting with his legs pulled up and Kili half on Fili’s back, pointing at James who was trying to jump on Fili’s lap. 

“That’s James, my cat.”

“That’s a cat?!” Kíli yelled. “What did you do to him?”

“Nothing!” you laughed, placing the glasses and bottles on the coffee table. “He’s a sphynx cat, he’s supposed to look like that. They don’t have fur.”

You called James and he immediately ran to you, so you could pick him up. He rubbed his head against your chin and started purring, happy to get some attention. 

You crouched down before the two princes.

“Go ahead, pet him. You don’t have to be scared.” “We’re not scared,” Kíli protested, puffing out his chest.  You smirked and rolled your eyes. “Of course not.”

They were wary at first, but eventually both brothers were petting James. Before you could stop him, James jumped out of your arms on Fíli’s lap and curled up against the fur of his coat. 

Fíli froze and tried his best not to let it show that he wasn’t comfortable with this at all. Next to him, Kíli had the hardest time keeping a straight face, biting his lip in an attempt to stifle his chuckles but his shoulders were already shaking with laughter. 

You poured their beer and placed it in front of them. 

“Like I said, it’s pretty strong so small sips. Do you want me to take James away?” Fíli shook his head. “I-it’s fine!”

You took a seat on your other couch and anxiously started to rub your thighs. 

“So… like I said, I don’t really know how to explain this but I think I know what happened to you.” “Wait… did something happen to us? I don’t understand?” Kíli asked, raising his eyebrows in confusion.

Oh, right. They didn’t realise they were in a different universe right now. Maybe you should take a different approach. 

“Can you tell me what happened before you knocked on my door?”

Kíli took the two glasses and gave one to his brother before he took a gulp, humming appreciatively. 

“I like this,” he said. “And to answer your question, we traveled to the Shire and knocked on the door with the mark. And here we are!” “But… my door doesn’t have a mark?”

It was Fíli’s turn to roll his eyes. “Kee, you’re not telling the whole story. But you’re right about this,” he smiled while raising his glass, taking another sip. “This is good stuff.”

You chuckled when you saw some foam sticking to his mustache.  He raised an eyebrow at you. “What’s so funny?”

“I have enough beer in the fridge, you don’t have to save some for later,” you laughed, pointing at your own lip to get the message across. 

Fíli quickly wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. The movement made James shift in his lap and the Dwarf went rigid again.  You decided not to say anything about it, you figured maybe Fili didn’t like cats that much. Or just James. 

“So what did Kíli leave out?” “Your door wasn’t the first one we knocked on. There was a round, green door in the Shire. And that one had the mark of Gandalf. He’s a wizard.”

You nodded. So far it went exactly like it should. Shire, green door, mark. 

“But when we knocked on it, we found ourselves in a field all of a sudden. And your house was the only one around so we figured that was where we were supposed to be. Since Gandalf is a wizard, you never know what to expect.”

Okay, that was different. It almost sounded as if they went through a portal of some sort. Like a portkey? They touched the portkey and traveled to a different universe? But portkeys weren’t part of Middle Earth, that was Harry Potter. Did they have something similar?

“You’re not in Middle Earth anymore,” you said softly. 

Both brothers stared at you with wide eyes, their beer long forgotten. Kíli looked at his older brother, and pulled at his sleeve.

“What does she mean by that?”

Fíli kept his eyes fixed on your face, searching your features to see if you were lying. If you were trying to prank them. 

“It means that you traveled between different worlds. In my world, where you’re in right now, Middle Earth is fictional. A story. It doesn't exist. Just like my world doesn’t exist where you’re from.” “I don’t believe you,” Kíli said with a frown. 

You had expected this. It’s not like you would’ve believed them if you were in their place. 

“Look around,” you tried to explain, “you can see things you recognize. The furniture, me being a human, … But you can also see things that you don’t understand. They are from this world.”

“You said Middle Earth was a story to you?” Fíli asked you.  “Yes. There are tales about Middle Earth, and Elves, Dwarves, Hobbits, the race of Men, … Orcs, wargs, goblins,” you explained, careful not to mention anything about their storyline or the one with the One Ring. “But I’ve never thought it could be real.”

They stayed silent for a few moments, letting it all sink in. 

“How… How do we get back to Middle Earth?” Fili wondered.  “I’m sorry, I really don’t know. But I’m going to help you find your way back. We’ll figure something out.” 

You played with your fingers, a telltale sign you were nervous.

“And in the meantime you can stay here... With me.”

A/N: There you go... This is the setup for a possible new multichapter fic if people are interested in it.   Just think of the two brothers in a modern day kitchen and bathroom, how the reader tries to cope with her fictional crush in her home and... how will they get back to Middle Earth? Would you be interested to read that? Let me know!  And of course let me know what you thought of this story :) 

A/N part 2: Sometimes tumblr switches paragraphs for no reason at all, if you notice this happened, send me a message! I’ll try and keep an eye on it myself, but some help is always appreciated.

Permanent taglist: @roosliefje​ @kata1803​ @artsywaterlily​ @entishramblings​ @sleepy-daydream-in-a-rose​ @marvelschriss​ @kumqu4t​ @myrin1234​ @dark-angel-is-back​ @the-fandoms-georgie​ @lathalea​ @xxbyimm​ @sokkasdarling​ @katethewriter​ @aredhel-of-gondolin​ @leethology​ @thepeanutcollective @elvish-sky​

Kíli taglist: @elles-writing​ @sxperncturalimpala67​

[libradusk]

Touch Starved | Jesse

Word Count: 6.8k

Pairing: Jesse x Reader

Summary: A night in a Coruscant hotel gifts you plenty of quality time with your lover (and a few noise complaints as well)

Warnings/Content: Explicit smut, mention of alcohol, AFAB reader (though no gender is explicitly mentioned), established relationship, some playful sexual power play, petnames galore, 69 action, a few light spanks to the backside and some tender shaaaaaaaggin’. (And Libra’s frequent overuse of italics.)

a/n: dedicated to the one and only @morganas-pendragons​, congrats on finishing your third year of uni Kayla, I’m so proud of you! <3

And of course, a huge thank you to everyone who has continued to support my writing. It’s been a really horrid couple of months for me, but slowly, things are starting to improve. Thank you all for being understanding while I take a much-needed continued break from social media.

CT-5597

Jesse

Jesse who is infamously cocky and funny, if not dangerously outspoken and headstrong during even the most tense of situations. Jesse who is renowned for caring so deeply and so fiercely for what he believes in, and loving even fiercer than that. Jesse, who will never hesitate to be the first on the dance floor at 79’s and the last to leave.

Jesse, the soldier, the brother, the undeniably charismatic individual. The man whose smile would warp the lines of the tattoo draped across his cheekbone with how widely it stretched.

Jesse, who everyone knew would continue to belt out barrack-born anthems that sung of the glory of the Republic, even after he was turfed out of the bar and sent stumbling through the neon maze of Coruscant’s streets until the rising sun inevitably forced the migraine from within his skull.

Though no soul who met him could ever even hope to deny that Jesse was a character, these descriptions and stories told fondly over the shoulders of comrades and acquaintances alike barely scratched the surface of the Jesse you knew.

You can see him now, slipping out of the bravado and bellowing laughter even as he throws it back alongside Fives on the dancefloor, a drink in his fist and a grin that doesn't quite light up his eyes the way it usually does. His gaze stumbles under the weight of the lights and music until it gives way to an expression that looks more detached than enraptured towards the music and movement enveloping him. Within another beat however, it has dragged its way over to you, and finally (and perhaps mercifully), Jesse appears to bloom more into himself the longer it rests on your seated form.

You throw him a pursed smile over your drink, knee bouncing underneath the table. Anticipation and concern peppers your nerves and drives the way your fingers twirl your straw between them. All around you, his brothers continue to laugh and joke between themselves, none the wiser to the energy crackling unspoken across the stretch between the booth and the dancefloor, simply grateful for the fresh taste of decompression bestowed upon their squadron by recently granted leave. Beside you, Kix’s elbow knocks into your side as he adjusts his posture to spread out into a more comfortable position. The medic is quick to apologise, but he needn’t have bothered; your attention is firmly glued elsewhere and as he follows your stare, he soon sees why.

You miss the way Kix smirks warmly into his pint as he turns to recount another tall tale to the troopers sharing the table, ensuring that he unravels the story in such a way that he sweeps up the remnants of their attention with a timed wave of his wrist and a comically timed jab at Hardcase’s expense.

It only takes a matter of minutes more until the other Jesse, your Jesse, steps out of his boisterous skin and slinks over to you.

The surface of his bare hand feels scorching hot as you rise to meet him halfway and grasp it with your own. Your palm is chilly from nursing your drink, the same one that now sat barely touched and long forgotten atop the crowded table. Jesse’s appears to radiate with the heat of a sun in comparison, clammy and blistering as it engulfs your own whilst its twin all but throws his half-empty glass of liquor onto a nearby waitress droid’s tray.

It teeters for a moment before tumbling over and sending a sticky cascade spilling over the side of the metal disk towards the floor below.

There's little time left to waste. You're not content to simply sit back and sweat out the minutes until you can have him completely alone this time, done with sitting back until the alcohol burns your throat and the flash of lights drowns out the grainy buzz in your temples.

Grabbing him more firmly by the hand now, you move to tug him past the straggling group of wide-eyed troopers that have congregated in the wake of Jesse’s stride. You’re not sure you can bring yourself to care anymore if they talk, not while your pulse is twisting louder in your ears with each brush of his thumb against your wrist.

The moment the chill of night time air hits his lungs, the hidden Jesse emerges completely, eyes honeyed but focused as the last few curls of boyish laughter die on his tongue. He shifts his grip to lace his fingers with your own as you weave between the lingering bodies outside. Most here pay little attention to the pair of you, too concerned with casting their own troubled gazes towards the city skyline as they smoke contraband cigarettes and turn over glass bottles between bruised knuckles.

You try to choke down the strange feeling rising in your throat at the sight, focusing instead on the warmth that continues to radiate from Jesse’s body as he trails down the street closely behind you. Despite the charged air that surrounds you both, it suddenly dawns on you that you’ve yet to actually speak a word to him since entering the bar, his late entrance alongside Fives meaning that you had already been swamped with the attention of familiar faces, all of whom were equally eager to unwind and catch up.

But now, as you sneak a sideways glance at him and catch just how tightly his blacks seem to cling to the defined muscles of his torso, you feel that if you were to open your mouth in anything more than a smile, you wouldn’t be able to trust what your brain would make you say, or do for that matter.

Your chest feels so tight with emotion that even breathing feels like a strained action. It had been a tough few weeks, and right now all you wanted, all you needed, was your Jesse all to yourself in the self-made sanctuary only privacy could help you build. A squeeze of your hand assures you that through his tipsy intrepidity, he most certainly feels the same way.

Jesse remains uncharacteristically silent as you hail down an air taxi, though you can clearly feel his eyes on your face in your peripheral vision as you lean forward to speak to the driver through her open window. You attempt to flash him a smile once you finish relaying the last of your directions, but it comes out more strained than you intend, even as you squeeze his hand back in reassurance. Tired is truly an understatement, and for a moment, it dawns on you that there’s a real possibility you might end up falling asleep mid journey.

That is, until you feel the wide, warm expanse of Jesse’s palm deliver a gentle pat to your backside. The action succeeds in ushering you into the back of the cab, and having you feel very suddenly awake again in one fluid motion.

You don't need to shoot him a raised eyebrow over your shoulder to know that he's smirking.

A sharp, very clearly fake cough from the front of the taxi cuts down the heat spreading downwards from your face before it can settle deeper. In the reflective surface of the rear view mirror, you catch the disgruntled glare of the now very unimpressed Twi’lek cabbie. The twitch of her pursed lips accompanied by the dull tap of her blunt, painted fingernails against a bright red sign that sits mounted on the dashboard.

Your stomach flips in embarrassment as you scan over the bold printed words that are listed upon it.

NO EATING/DRINKING

NO SMOKING

NO SASSING THE DRIVER

NO WANDERING HANDS

Where Jesse was smirking before, he now struggles to suppress on a snicker as he stretches to practically lounge across the backseat, clearly unbothered by the stink eye currently being thrown directly his way now by the woman in the driver’s seat - even daring to throw up his hands in mock-innocence in return. For a moment you’re concerned she might actually throw you both back out onto the curb, but instead, you’re just met with another exaggerated roll of her eyes before she throws the well-loved vehicle into reverse and takes off down the neon-painted highway.

With a ghost of a sigh, you lean back slightly into the worn leather seat as the streets of Coruscant rush past your window in a blur of colour and noise. Your gaze slips past the glass, to the apathetic, focused expression of your driver, and finally to your lover once more. Whilst dizzying to watch through the smeared windows, you find yourself helplessly bewitched with how the sharp glow of the city lights splash and dissipate almost rhythmically across Jesse’s face and body. Red, fuchsia and blue drip down his skin before disappearing into the void of his blacks each time you pass under a particularly bright stretch of neon-signage. Whilst beautiful, the glow also highlights just how deeply cut the bags under his eyes are now.

A not-so-subtle squeeze to your thigh unravels the grip twisting around your heart before it can truly poison your mood.

The tenderness in Jesse’s eyes cuts through the dark interior of the cab more brightly than any streetlamp could ever hope to, lips cocking into a half-smile as his attention shifts completely to you once more.

“You okay, mesh’la?” his voice is barely above a low purr as he finally speaks, but it vibrates down to your stomach as though he’d growled it in your ear, his thumb rubbing a mindless, but soothing pattern just above the joint of your knee all the while.

“Yeah... are you?” you shift slightly to face him better, the bottom half of your body twisting somewhat awkwardly against the grasp of the seatbelt clamped across your middle. You reach downwards to curl your own digits gently over his wrist, eyes momentarily darting back towards the driver’s mirror on instinct. There's a brief second where you’re certain you catch her tattooed brows furrowing further and those sharp eyes dart to catch yours in warning, but now at least, they remain focused on the busy road ahead, and you risk leaning over closer towards the trooper beside you. His smile gives way to a subtly weak grin in response.

“Just peachy.” 

Half lies from both of you, but there's little time to dwell on them as the air taxi finally pulls into a stop outside your destination.

There's somewhat of an awkward pause as Jesse struggles to get the door open, the lock jamming with his first attempt and sending his shoulder barrelling against the window with an inelegant thump. You cringe a little at the sound, but the Twi’lek leaning over the shoulder of her seat seems unphased as she silently holds out her hand, stony face sporting the same cocked eyebrow and deadpan expression that you’ve become uncomfortably familiar with.

Your strained thank you is met with little more than a grunt of mild disapproval as she turns to fiddle with the radio embedded in her dashboard, effectively ending your transaction and ordering you from her car as she throws your handed credits into a worn-looking box perched on the passenger seat.

“Well she was cheerful.” Jesse’s voice is playful as he moves to grab your hand in earnest now as you approach the towering building in front of you. Despite the lightness of his tone and the way you exhale through your nose in mock-exasperation towards his joke, the air between you is more charged than ever now that you’re so close to finally being alone together for the first time in weeks.

Or was it months? Time had a funny way of twisting away from you as of late.

Nevertheless, all that stood in your way was a brief check in and elevator ride up towards the room you had hurriedly booked for the occasion.

The hotel itself was modest, sporting simple, clean architectural design and minimal decoration just short of clinical in nature. Not that you cared for the details, all that mattered to you was that it provided a temporary sanctuary for you and Jesse to retreat to for the night, far enough away from the pulsing heart of Coruscant that, for a short time at least, you could pretend there was no war, no constant presence of fear, pain and suffocating army regulations.

Just you and Jesse. Your Jesse.

His resolve winds and snaps the moment your feet cross the threshold of the elevator.

“Mesh’la,” his beloved nickname for you rolls off his tongue almost salaciously as he all but collapses against you, pinning you to the cold stretch of corridor with the press of his body. He groans it against your skin again as his lips meet with your pulse point, grinding against you with an overspill of passion that has you mewl and almost drop your keycard with the force of it. Through the building fog in your mind, you wonder if the fact he can finally announce his affections for you aloud and so openly here is what has finally pushed him over the edge.

Or perhaps it's the way you writhe and claw at him desperately in response, half of your mind seemingly determined to have him take you right here and now before you can even hope to complete the last few steps towards your awaiting hotel room.

“Jesse-” you’re not sure if the drawl of his name that slips from your tongue is meant to be in warning or wanting, but it's quickly swallowed up by the trooper as he finally kisses you.

Maker, does it feel good to taste him again. His unrelenting passion, his warmth, you can’t help but want it all, and he’s ever happy to give it to you - groaning into your open mouth, all teeth and tongue and heart as he hurriedly caresses your thighs, your hips, the back of your neck in turn - fingertips mapping out your body with an agonising familiarity that has your knees buckling and restraint crumbling even more.

Jesse practically growls as you break apart to gasp for air, though your panting does little to deter him from continuing his barrage of kisses, as he angles his head to trail them across your jaw and down the junction of your throat, mouthing his desire against the thrumming beat of your heart.

“Missed having you like this - in my arms - all to myself…” 

Each part of his confession is broken apart by the scratch of his stubble and the nip of his teeth against your skin until he trails off into something intelligible - burying his face into the crook of your neck with a sigh that sings as much of exhaustion as it does longing.

It's the briefest moment of weakness amidst the suffocating heat of his passion towards you, but it's just enough to allow you to scrape back some semblance of clarity with a shuddering breath of your own.

Delicately, as though he was crafted from glass and not the corded muscle you knew to hide beneath his clothes, you run the fingers of your left hand down the length of his spine, relishing in the shudder that ripples through him in turn.

“Jesse,” your voice already sounds hoarse as you turn to place a kiss against his temple, “let’s get inside of our room and you can have all of me, all night.”

He almost wrestles the keycard from your hands at that.

---

The room itself is as modestly decorated as the rest of the hotel. A brief glance around tells you there’s a basic vanity, a desk, what appears to be the seam and switch of a built in wardrobe, and to the right of the doorway: the entrance to the refresher.

But what truly captures the attention of both of you is the king size bed in the very centre of the room, as well as the open stretch of Coruscant skyline that shines in through the expansive window to it’s left, dappling the navy-coloured sheets with milky diamonds of light.

Jesse grants you mere seconds to appreciate the view before he’s all over you once more.

You find yourself stumbling clumsily backwards against the newly closed door, attempting several times in vain to get the locking mechanism to work through Jesse’s onslaught of kisses. A gasp of what you’re not sure is relief or pleasure (or maybe both) leaves you when you hear it finally click into place just as his lips fasten themselves to suckle at a particularly sensitive spot just above your collarbone.

Each kiss unravels another layer of the Jesse you know and love, each desperate touch and whispered endearment only stoking the fire helping him flare to life in his full glory once more. It's intoxicating and overwhelming in the best way possible, and as he gifts you another taste of the sickly-sweet cocktail that still lingers on his tongue, you’re reminded of the very first time he’d kissed you:

It had been a night not too unlike this one, in which you had finally related to his begging for you to accompany him and the boys on a night on the town. He’d gathered you up in his arms the moment you’d finally relaxed enough to join him on the dancefloor of 79’s, and not long after, you’d backed each other into a corner of the dingy nightclub, with Jesse keening into your open mouth and rutting against you as though struck with the fear that he would never be given another chance to touch you, and the eager remorse of a man that wished he’d done this a long time ago.

Of course, the night had ended with you dragging the drunken tonne of him back to his bunk - though even through his stupor, he’d managed to drag you down after him before passing out at the snap of a finger, face buried securely in the crook of your shoulder the entire night.

And from that point, you couldn’t imagine a future without him at your side ever again.

Jesse’s passion for all he does burns hot, but it's in stolen moments like these, that his touch seems to burn hotter than anything else.

You feel it now as his hands begin to wander once again, tugging at your clothing and gripping at the skin beneath with such a need that it borders on bruising - though you struggle to shrug off how his fingers carry a gnawing tiredness beneath their eager twitching.

The revelation causes a different kind of pang in your stomach, but you force it down and away.

This man deserves to be spoiled.

Shoving half-heartedly at his broad chest, your command only wavers slightly with the struggle to catch your breath as your lips break apart with an audible pop.

“Strip.”

Your head feels light as you step backwards and straighten up your posture as best you can, dishevelled clothing and panting aside. You attempt to give him your sternest face as you issue the demand, but you’re certain you hardly look the part with what you know to be kiss-swollen lips and a chain of love bites adorning your neck.

Jesse hardly fares any better, face ruddy with a blush that creeps down past the high collar of his undershirt, and pupils blown so wide and glassy that they resemble the depths of space itself. His eyes had always stood out to you, even long before the two of you became an item. Though he and his brothers may share the same eye colour, the fire in Jesse’s was everything, it was something you never, ever wanted to see fade.

Those same eyes blink owlishly at you now as you stand firm in front of him, his hands still comically half-raised as though frozen mid-caress. It doesn't take longer than a second for him to whir back into action, however.

His movements are inelegant and rushed as he begins to tear away his shirt from his heaving chest. There's no overt striptease like he’s performed for you before, just pure, unfiltered desperation to feel your bare skin against his own. But even through the clumsiness, you catch the way the muscles in his arms and shoulders flex with thinly-veiled intention - a reminder to you of the strength he possesses - as well as just how easily the role of dominant could be flipped against you with his slightest change of whim.

The knowledge of this only excites you more.

You decide to follow his example and quickly shed your own garments until you’re both down to your underwear. The walls of the room are practically sweating with the desire that thrums between you now, and you both take a shared moment to admire the other in the dimmed glow of the lighting. Your mouth waters involuntarily as you sink into the sight of him, the reality of finally getting your lover alone and bare after so long settling warmly into your core, twisting delightfully tighter with each second that ticks by.

Jesse can’t help but glow with an obvious pride under your hungry gaze. A familiar smirk blooms across his face, spreading in a way that warms his expression further until the mirth crinkles at the very corners of his eyes. You can't help but smile right back despite the distraction of thrumming in your ears and the slickness that's gathering between your thighs.

It's a sensation that's only amplified when his eyes stop raking over your body to lock with your own, staring you down with an energy that's so charged that the breath skips in your throat.

“Shocked you speechless?” his voice sings with a smile as he taunts you, head tilted in a way that highlights the juncture of his throat.

You scoff in response, but step even closer all the same, noses practically touching now as your lips brush together.

“In your dreams, lover boy.”

He raises a thick brow at the cheesy nickname, but you note how his breath catches as you reach out to push lightly at his chest, palm spreading warmly across his pectoral.

“I dream about you a lot, actually,” Jesse’s long eyelashes tickle the apple of your cheekbones as he lightly presses his mouth against yours in a chaste kiss, “in fact, I had an especially lovely dream about you last night.”

Your stomach flutters a little more at the implication, but you press on, edging him gently further towards the bed until the back of his calves hit the edge.

“Yeah?” your fingernails claw down the ladder of his abs, marvelling in the way the muscles flex and tense with your caresses, “why don’t you tell me about it?”

You kiss him again, catching his bottom lip between your teeth with a tug that leaves him melting against you, the heat of his arousal peaking past the waistband of his underwear to graze your stomach as you press even closer.

“Well,” his voice is as strained as his breathing now, strong hands moving to stroke gently over your upper arms before his grip suddenly tightens, “I think it's better if I show you.”

The sound of surprise that leaves you as your back hits the mattress is more of a squeak. In the briefest of moments, Jesse has successfully managed to flip the situation to place himself in control once more. A heavy, yet careful weight pins you atop the silken blue sheets by your hips, a reignited, boyish gleam twinkling in his eyes as he grins up at you from the lower half of your body.

That cocky, gorgeous, bastard.

It's frustrating, but you can’t deny he looks good between your thighs.

“Ah, ah, ah~” he tuts at you, effectively cutting off any grumble of annoyance before it can leave your lips, “it isn't polite to cut someone off mid demonstration, mesh’la.”

Maker, give you strength.

His mouth and tongue are dangerously hot as he trails a haphazard stream of kisses over your hips, the sensation is at once too much and not quite enough, leaving you panting and bucking towards the smirking lot of him to no avail. When he begins to all but purr in contentment as he mouthes over your clothed sex, you have to quite literally bite back a scream of frustration.

“Jesse-”

“Shhhhhh…”

You let out a sob as your head falls back to hit the pillow, the hot rush of air against the dampness of your underwear too much to bear. Jesse chuckles in response, thoroughly enjoying inflicting such a sweet agony on you.

“Don't act so mad at me, cyar’ika,” Jesse pouts as he bats those dark lashes up at you, intent on sucking a bruise into your inner thigh as he does, “just tryin’ to appreciate how gorgeous you are.”

There's no sign of joviality in his confession this time, and your heart warms at the sincerity that glows in those heavy-lidded eyes of his.

A quick snap to the band of your underwear parts the lovesick fog accumulating in your head, forcing your attention back to the man currently toying with the elastic of your undergarments once more.

“Focus, mesh’la~,” his tone is purposefully playful, but his eyes dark with challenge as he flashes you another winning grin, “I need your full attention to tell this story, you want to hear how it ends, right?”

Another kiss, this time placed just against where you ache for him most, the fabric posing as the final barrier to your hard-won reward. Fuck, this man was going to kill you.

You’re torn between searching the fog of your brain for another retort, or giving in and letting him wreck you completely and honestly. Jesse doesn't seem too keen to grant you the time to weigh your options, fingers tapping impatiently against the curve of your hip with an inquisitive hum as you agonise over your choices.

The throb in your core wins out, and you relent, albeit a little bitterly,

“I want to know-” you cut off with strangled gasp as he lathes his tongue against the very inner pocket of your thigh, “please Jesse - fuck - please I want you, I need you.”

The man in question stares down at you with satisfied affection as you buck up to chase a phantom touch once again, groaning in annoyance when you find nothing but the weighted press of his forearms caging your thighs open to his mercy.

“...All right.” 

A sigh of relief leaves you at that before you can reign it back, and he chuckles warmly at the sound, stroking tiny circles across your flesh.

“You’ll always have me, mesh’la,” the sincerity in Jesse’s tone makes your breath hitch further as he edges towards where the seam of your underwear meets your left hip, his hot breath causing yet another flurry of goosebumps to rise in its wake, “but let me show you how much it means to me to have you.”

Keeping his eyes locked onto yours, Jesse ducks to catch the side of your underwear in his teeth before dragging it slowly downwards. The material tickles slightly as it catches over your thighs, though it's a mere whisper of a sensation compared to the throb that hits you as your dripping core finally is bared to the chill of the air.

Jesse hums appreciatively at the sight of you spread out beneath him as he leans back to finish pulling away your underwear, haphazardly throwing away the offending garment to join the other scattering of clothing that now decorates the carpet. You bite your lip and raise your eyebrows in response, taking advantage of his momentary lapse in focus to nudge your knee against his hip.

“You too, mesh’la.” You roll the nickname over your tongue, delighting in how the blood rushes to his cheeks with a fervour at having his nickname for you thrown right back at himself. 

He scoffs a little at your cheekiness, but indulges your command all the same, practically  leaping from the edge of the bed to stand and unceremoniously yank down his boxer briefs. You attempt to hook your legs around his midsection as he rejoins you atop the bed, but he stops you with a slow shake of his head, caging your thighs open with his arms once more.

“So eager!” he sighs in mock-annoyance as you huff and roll your eyes beneath him, simply chuckling as you edge further into frantic desperation.

Little do you know it's taking every ounce of his own willpower to stop from delving into your cunt like it's his last meal.

Though the groan that leaves him as his eyes flicker down once more gives you an indication of how he's really feeling beneath the bravado. In that moment, the sight and sound of him has you feeling on top of the world despite being pinned from the hips down.

You’ve little time to bask in this feeling for long though, as in a moment, Jesse dives forward like a man starved. You throw your head back with a cry as the hot, wet push of his tongue hits the sensitive folds of your pussy, lapping open-mouthed kisses across the seam of your opening as his nose grazes your clit. Stars above, your head feels heavy as you buck shamelessly, chasing the heat of his mouth as he tilts his head to tongue-fuck you deeper, the burn of his flesh against yours as he holds you down the only thing truly grounding you at this point.

To his credit, Jesse takes your writhing in stride, accommodating the frantic movements of your hips with firm, but loving caresses as he places a particularly heavy kiss right against your clit that leaves you breathily calling out his name. He lets out a particularly needy groan at the sound, one that vibrates directly across your thrumming bundle of nerves and hits you like a shock of cold water to the face.

You shudder back to reality, head still spinning with the promise of a quickly approaching orgasm, but enough renewed sense to prop yourself up onto shaking elbows to take in the sight of him. Jesse looks just as wrecked as you feel, eyes closed as he revels in the taste and feel of you beneath his tongue and fingers. A single jewel of sweat beads down the prong of his tattoo that reaches his temple in what you're not sure is overexertion, or the strain of keeping his own pursuit of pleasure in check to focus on yours.

He’s all but thrusting desperately into the air as you reach forward to gently grasp his jaw with shaking digits.

“Jesse…” you trail off as you catch the way his chin glistens with what you’re not sure is saliva, your essence, or a lewd concoction of both, “let me make you feel good too.”

He’s slack jawed and glossy-eyed, but his body is oddly pliable as you tug him up towards your face for a sloppy kiss that leaves you both moaning and grasping for the other. You’re the one to break away first, shooting him a wobbly grin as you pant to regain your breath. His fingers find your face this time, cupping your cheek as he gazes at you with such wonder that it leaves you blushing once more. He remains speechless even as you break apart with a kiss to his open palm, positioning your body to crawl down his torso until you’re face-to-head with his arousal. Jesse seems to catch on quickly to your intentions, grasping hold of your hips to position your lower half over his face - even gracing your backside with a light slap that causes you to jolt in surprise. You attempt to flash him a glare, but the feeling of his broad palm soothing over the swell of your ass reduces you to hissing in pleasure instead, spine dipping before you can stop yourself from sinking lower towards his waiting lips.

Determined not to be so easily outdone, you move to flatten the length of your tongue against the head of his cock, delighting in the broken groan that shakes his chest as the taste of precum hits your taste buds. You let a moan of your own vibrate against the length of his cock as you hollow your cheeks and take him deeper into your mouth, the feeling of his hot, panting breath against your cunt spurring you on. Jesse indulges in the feeling of you for a few moments longer before delving right back into eating you out. You can feel his smirk at the squeak of surprise that leaves you as he roughly pulls you back down to sit on his face, tongue lashing skilfully against your clit in a way that forces you to pull him from your mouth with a gasp for air.

It all falls away from you quickly after that, even as you pump at the slick length of his cock and attempt to focus on the way he twitches against your lips. In mere moments, your vision is stolen from you in a sudden rush of pure pleasure that has you half aware that you’re screaming Jesse’s name towards the ceiling. The trooper continues to lavish attention on you through the waves of your orgasm, tongue firmly lathing against the most agonisingly sensitive part of you as he holds you against him with a determinedly steady hand.

He gently drags the grip of his right hand to pet your thigh as you come down in shuddering gasps, the white slowly ebbing from your vision with the effort of a few slow blinks.

“Welcome back.”

Even in such a compromising position as this, he still has the gall to run his mouth. 

A calculated squeeze to the base of his cock has that taunt trail off into a hiss.

“You’re unbelievable.” Despite the impassive tone of voice you attempt to force out, you still curl into his touch as he slowly maneuvers your spent body to rest against the pillows once more.

“Yep, but you love it.” He winks as he shifts to support himself above you, those powerful forearms of his now caging your shoulders at each side as he places a chaste kiss against your clammy forehead. You can't help the laughter that spills from you as he moves to suddenly nuzzle into the crook of your neck, stubble tickling your already oversensitive nerves until you're pushing at his chest for him to release you.

“Because I love you, Jess.”

His expression melts at your confession, chest rising and falling in time with your own as he stares at you with such a tender longing that part of you almost feels like crying.

If you could block out the world and just stay like this with him, forever, then you would in a heartbeat. You'd tear down every star in the sky a million times over if it meant keeping him safe and loved.

If only you could.

“I love you, so much, cyare.” The sunny warmth of his grin spreads across the entirety of his face then. It's contagious, and instantly lifts you into giggling alongside him as he nuzzles the tip of his nose against your own.

“...Is this how things went in your dream?” Your heart turns to honey as you reach up to trace the lines of his tattoo where they drape over his cheek.

“This is even better.” He whispers the affirmation against your lips before stealing them in another deep kiss.

He grinds lazily against you as the kiss deepens, threading you ever closer together with a moan that has your hand frantically searching to loop your fingers through his own.

“Jesse,” your voice is strained with desire as the tip of his cock grazes against your entrance once again, “as wonderful as this is, I really want you inside me now.”

That pulls a genuine splutter of laughter from him, but he slips his free hand down to wrap one of your thighs around his waist all the same, shifting to his knees to brace himself against you whilst simultaneously keeping you pinned to the pillow with one hand gripping your own.

“Your wish is my command, my needy little love.”

Your breath leaves you with a sudden yelp as he finally snaps his hips forward and eases into you with a deep thrust, his public bone nestling against the swell of your clit as he buries himself to the hilt in your warmth. You catch his smile split even wider at your reaction before he begins to fuck you in earnest, never one to hold back for too long. The stretch of his cock has your eyes rolling and your free hand clawing at his shoulder for something to grip on to, but your body opens up to him effortlessly. 

You’ve danced with him like this so many times now that being connected to him feels as natural as breathing, despite the rolling cries that drip from your parted lips. Jesse drinks them down greedily with a barrage of kisses and growled praise between each thrust.

“That's it baby - keep making those pretty sounds for me.”

He's making plenty of pretty noises of his own, each of them peppered with sigh-like breaths that catch in his throat every time his hips stutter with the threat of losing his last semblance of control.

Hot tears of pleasure begin to gather behind your lashes as you fight to keep your eyes trained on the sight of him pounding into you. Even with the way your mind spins with pleasure, and how the light spilling from the window appears to cling and dance across the deep bronze of his skin in an ever shifting pattern, the thick lines of his tattoo, and the burn of his eyes remain steadfast - streamlining your focus towards the feeling of him grinding upwards against the sweetest spot inside of you again and again until all you can do is babble his name incoherently.

The sight of you coming apart beneath him only pushes him further, though you’re so overwhelmed at this point that you fail to notice how his fingers release your own to dip down between your bodies until the rough pad of his thumb collides with your clit once more.

A second orgasm rips through you with little extra warning - the coil in your stomach snapping so violently that it robs you of any remaining coherency and has you tightening around Jesse’s cock with a silent scream. You hear and feel him hit his peak right behind your own as he tenses with a shout of your name, barely catching himself as he folds over you and buries his cock as deep as he can reach.

And then, warmth: one that spreads across your insides before spilling down the innermost part of your thighs and onto the sheets below.

For a moment, there is only heavy panting as you both struggle to come back down to the present. Jesse breaks whatever silence has crawled between you with a dry-throated chuckle. The hand that had been twisted in the bedsheets beside your head moments before now moves to stroke the back of your head with a clumsy kind of care only Jesse could deliver.

You're still stuffed full of him even as he lifts himself to avoid crushing you, his thumb dipping across the apples of your cheeks to wipe away the loose trails of tears that streak your skin. He clears his throat before speaking, voice tired, but clear enough to reach you.

“You okay?”

You nod in reply, limbs heavy as you raise your arms to loop around his neck and bring him close for a prolonged kiss.

“Need anything?”

You hum in acknowledgment of his concern, but only snuggle closer in response before whispering against the thump of his pulse.

“Only you.”

He chuckles at that before chastely kissing the top of your head and slowly lifting to withdraw from you. You both groan at the loss of contact, but Jesse’s quick to flop down beside you and gather your body up in his arms once more.

“I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me, cyar’ika.” He traces over the marks left on your skin with an air of sentimentality, dipping his head to kiss over the particularly dark ones left across your neck and collarbone. They're reminders you’ll grumble about when you’re back in the right frame of mind, but you’ll find yourself cherishing them all the same for as long as they decorate your skin.

“Forever then.” You mumble sleepily against the protection his body extends to you, thoroughly spent in every way.

“Forever it is.” 

He’d already made that promise to himself long ago.

[fallasleepscenarios]

𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂 𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓼𝓸𝓶 𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓮𝓮𝓽 [bakugo x reader]

type: one shot, angst, fluff pairing: bakugo katsuki x reader (gender not specified) summary: (Y/N) and Bakugo have not established their relationship, leaving (Y/N) to question their whole "friends with benefits" thing. And it all goes down to what happens when they attend Kirishima's party. rating: R for implication of sexual act word count: 2.4k disclaimer: I do not own any of the mha characters and all of them are written as if they are of age also posted on my wattpad one shots book

꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

"You're so silly. Get your butt here."

Bakugo shrugs and pouts angrily but eventually lets his body fall on me and weighing me down on the couch as I try to lift him off me. I laugh at his silliness, knowing that this is the best way someone like him can show affection. He lets his guard down so rarely after all, doesn't even want to show softness, ever. Only with me he does. He can be mellow, can't express it in words easily though.

"Tsk, I don't want to go to the stupid party with all the stupid bastards", he growls while finally making himself comfortable without hurting me.

"You promised! Besides, everyone's waiting for you", I run my fingers through his hair, "You know how much Kirishima has been waiting to see you!" I could tell by his look at this was somehow enough for him to accept attending the party with me. All his UA classmates would be there.

"Whatever! I have to train." In a swift move he gets up and leaves the room, like he always does.

"Bakugo--! Wait!" he stops without turning to look at me. "D-Do you wanna spend the night?" I gulped.

"I have to train", he says and leaves.

And at times like these, I ask myself, what the hell am I really doing. Having a crush on Bakugo Katsuki? That's far enough. Establishing a relationship with him? That's so far beyond the line of sanity. More times than not, I question myself for any signs of emotional masochism, because this really doesn't feel like a mutual feeling. Yes, he can be soft and sweet, would never admit it, though. Yes, somehow, he does like me in a sexual way, at least, or maybe considers me as a way to relieve stress? The past three months and a half have been so exciting, and I've been.. happy. But..

This really isn't enough for me. If only I could do anything to make him say what's in his mind, 'cause his actions really really don't match with his words. And then again, well, whatever, never mind, it could all be way worse for me..

꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

On the day of the party, Bakugo was supposed to pick me up at 8 and head over to Kirishima's together, since I've never been to his place before. I put extra effort on picking an outfit I like and felt pretty cute and confident in it. At 7:45 I was already by the door, tying my shoes and receiving a text message by Uraraka-chan.

[19:45] From: Uraraka-chan<3 I can't wait for tonight! Deku-kun will also be there, haven't seen him in two weeks! Don't be late Y/N :D

I smiled at myself and happiness overflew in me. Don't want to jinx it but tonight sounds ideal; Bakugo agreed to come, I'm going to see everyone, even Midoriya found time off his strict training schedule, and Uraraka-chan is very happy, as well, I am glad.

But as I waited for Bakugo, the clock turned 8. And then 5 minutes after 8. And then a quarter past 8.

Normally, that's acceptable, since when one is late, they probably have informed you beforehand. Or at least, an apology is waiting for you at their arrival. Oh, but when Bakugo arrived..

"What took you so long?!!" My mood, the outfit I wore that I liked, the excitement, all had disappeared.

"SO WHAT, I had training to do! Deku has been training all week!", he snapped back at me and frowned. "Let's go damn it!"

"You're unbelievable-! That's how you treat me?!" This time, I was not going to take it.

"Tsk, you don't understand"

"At least you could have told me you were at practice..! Not arrive, what, a quarter to 9 and not even apologizing for keeping me waiting?!"

"YOU attacked me right when I arrived, when I would I apologize?!"

I refrained from saying anything else. I didn't want to completely ruin my mood for the party.

"Okay, stop." I let out a sigh. "Let's go. I really want to enjoy the party. I even wore that outfit that it took me so long to come up with, I really wanna enjoy it.." I closed and locked the door behind us and Bakugo just stared at me.

The road to Kirishima's was quiet. I caught a few glimpses of Bakugo walking by me and leading the way. Surprisingly, he didn't say anything at all. We passed by the river, it was beautiful and I so wanted to comment on the cherry blossoms showing as the path alongside it.

I tried not to overthink about this but it was bothering me, that Bakugo didn't even consider my feelings. He stood me up. This definitely isn't what you expect of your partner to do. Details like this, how he never calls me just to talk to me, he never texts me "good morning" or "good night" like my friends' significant others do, how we've never really agreed to have a proper date but always meet up at home, eat inside and are secretive, I don't like that. I think I am the only one in this relationship.

Heck, there is no real relationship. Friends with benefits, after all.

"(Y/N)! Bakugo-kun! You've arrived at last!" Uraraka-chan was the first one to greet us by the door.

"I'm sorry we're late, I asked Bakugo to pick me up since he lives so close-by, but he was training and couldn't leave early", I felt my cheeks flush up. Everyone's attention was on us and I didn't like it. "Besides, Kirishima-kun! Thanks for having us!"

Thankfully, I quickly felt comfortable and no one talked about how they've been waiting for us. We had a fun time, joking around, eating cakes that Sato baked and listening to what everyone's been up to on their vacation. I was able to forget about Bakugo's attitude, but every time I looked at him, it all came back to me, so I tried to avoid him as much. But still, I was able to catch glimpses of him, noticing that he never looked at me too. I am better than this.

I got up to pout myself some water and when I came back I noticed that Deku had joined Uraraka and they were cheerfully engaging in conversation by themselves, so I decided I wouldn't go back to Uraraka and third wheel them. Instead I decided to get some fresh air and went outside. The cold wind felt so nice on my face but I could tell I'd soon be cold enough to return inside.

"Y/N!", I didn't even hear Kirishima opening the balcony's door.

"Kirishima-kun, are you having fun?"

"For sure! I'm glad you could bring Bakugo with you. Wasn't really sure he'd come, since he's been eager to train as much as he can during the vacation time, but maybe having to accompany you made him responsible to come" Kirishima smiled and he'd never looked so innocent to me before.

"Ah, I just guess he came for you Kirishima-kun. You're his best friend after all."

We laughed and I suddenly felt really soft and comfortable talking about Bakugo with him.

"Kirishima-kun, you're great.. I wish I had a relationship with someone like you!"

And then I realized what I just said. Kirishima turned red and I no longer felt cold outside.

"Y/N, I-I don't think I like you like t-that.."

"Ah! No, it's okay, I don't think I do either.."

What am I saying, I know I like Bakugo.

I know he said he didn't like me but the vibe sure felt weird and tense and somehow comfortable. I could so simply say things like these with Kirishima and it did feel awkward but it was okay, we could sit in silence. And it was easier to stay outside now.

But then he called out my name, and I couldn't read his face. He surely thought that I might like him now. I noticed Bakugo was arguing with Iida-kun by the door, when Kirishima raised his hand to cup my cheek and-

"Can I kiss you?" he whispered.

Why am I not pulling back? Maybe he wants to find out if he'd feel something.. maybe I do as well. Bakugo wouldn't even care anyways. He wouldn't be the least jealous if he saw us.

"Yes", I whispered back and closed my eyes only to feel his soft lips on mine.

It lasted a few seconds but I knew for sure that this wasn't what I felt when I kissed Bakugo. Kirishima was now smiling softly as me and I knew we were on the same page. And this will be between us and nothing will be affected. Except that something caught his attention and he gasped ; I turned to see who else other than Bakugo staring at us.

He looked mad, but doesn't he almost always?

Suddenly I felt overwhelmed with regret towards him.

He wasn't supposed to get jealous, he has no right to!

"Ah, Bakugo saw us maybe", Kirishima shrugged, "He probably thinks we're stupid hahah"

I chuckled, not to make my uncomfortableness look so obvious and we headed back inside, since Bakugo had also disappeared from the entrance.

The rest of the night I felt so out of place and it was hard not to show, but I had to. Spent it mostly chatting with the girls and playing cards and board games.

But soon enough, it was time to go.

Midoriya had already left and so had some of the others that aren't late nighters, and I felt tired from all the tension of the day. I was glad that I had some fun though.

"I'm off, everyone!" I greeted them and put on my shoes and coat.

"I'm going to. Have to train early tomorrow"

I froze. Bakugo was also leaving and this could only mean he wanted to confront me.

I waited for him to be greeted by everyone as well. It was inevitable, we'd go the same way anyways.

But Bakugo didn't say anything. He started pacing fast and it was kind of hard to keep up.

When we reached the cherry blossoms, Bakugo stopped.

"Are you stupid? Why did you do that?!"

He was indeed jealous!

"What does it matter to you even!". Tears were forming in my eyes, I felt so guilty! But it wasn't entirely my fault!

"TO ME? That you're stupid?"

"What does it matter to you??! It didn't even matter to me!"

"Then WHY DID YOU DO THAT"

Bakugo turned around but he wasn't looking at me.

"..I.. don't know... I was curious.. "

"Tsk, 'curious', what even..!"

"I was, okay?! Kirishima was being so nice to me..."

"And you had to be stupid?!"

"STOP it! Okay? This, this is why I did that. Because I can no longer pretend that you care about me! You made that clear today!"

"I don't go around doing things a scumbag would do!"

Bakugo was starting to redden up, he had become really angry..

"BUT YOU DO!" I shouted, glad that we were the only ones on the street. "You do, when you're late and don't inform me, you do when you're embarrassed and secretive of me, you do when you never really tell me what's on your mind"

"You.." he frowned. "And YOU GO AND DO THAT"

"YES because MAYBE, MAYBE HE would actually LIKE me!"

He seemed to be taken aback. And I was properly crying. And I felt the cold wind against my face and hands. It was too bad we're ruining the effect of the beautiful cherry blossoms.

"Stupid.. STUPID STUPID STUPID", he was now pulling his hair in anger.

"Bakugo, stop! What are you doing!" I rushed out and grabbed him by his shoulders forcing him to look at me. And I felt guilty and sad to see him this angry but this had to mean something.

He looked away, avoiding my gaze at all costs.

"I should be asking you why are you being like this now..", I said softly. "It.. hurts to think about this, but did it feel like you were losing towards Kirishima?"

No answer.

"I'm sorry anyways, I am too tired to argue anymore and I'm sorry I kissed him. I.. didn't think it'd make you angry"

"Tsk, what are you apologizing for, loser.."

Bakugo's voice was soft and quiet..!

"I should be the one saying sorry. I FAILED don't you understand? I didn't make my feelings clear to you"

What?

"All this time, I've been failing to this, I don't no a thing about romance"

What?

"And you never even said anything, either! You just went along when I first kissed you!"

I had nothing to say. Suddenly, everything seemed so meaningless, because he was opening up to me.

"Bakugo.."

"No, shut up, you listen to me now. It drives me crazy cause I can't concentrate and think about you all the time! I LIKE YOUR STUPID ASS"

This can't be for real. I've always wanted him to open up but I never..

"SAY SOMETHING"

"Can you.. say that again?", I was too startled.

"Weren't you listening?!"

"No, I was, it's just that I liked hearing you say that.."

I'd forgotten I'd been holding him weirdly and suddenly felt conscious about being so close to him, when I've been closer to him so many times before, but not like this.

"Tsk, I like you stupid ass, stupid", he frowned jokingly and it was his turn to wrap his arms around me. "I like your stupid stupid ass."

My cheeks have probably never flushed as this much before.

"I like you"

He kept repeating and I felt like I could faint.

"And I promise, I won't ignore my feelings anymore and I won't be USELESS!"

I backed away to look at him.

"Bakugo,.. does this mean, we're really together?"

And Bakugo blushed!

"Yeh" he simply said.

I couldn't help but smile and the cherry blossoms were beautiful around us.

Then, Bakugo tightened his grip on my waist and brought me closer. He kissed my cheek and looked at me again. And I couldn't decide over staring at his eyes or kissing him that moment.

But I couldn't bring myself to stop, I leaned forwards and felt his soft pouty lips against mine, his warmth transmitting to my skin. And we didn't pull back for a few moments.

"Do you want to stay over, Bakugo?"

And he nodded excitedly as we walked home together.

꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

[nona-piccolo]

Obey Me you say ?? Oh HECK yeah, I’ve been thinking of a bunch of stuff ! Feel free to just respond to ones you enjoy, and I wish I had a preference of the brothers or others but that’s also really just up to you! The gender neutral pronouns are amazing, thank you !!! Now that that is out of the way, on to thoughts and questions!

How do you feel the brothers or others would react to a very blunt and honest MC? Like one that is nice as heck, but will not hesitate to tell you their actual thoughts on things- for example the constant bashing on Mammon or maybe helping Solomon out in the kitchen with friendly suggestions kinda vibe !

How do

Oh I love this one! A part of me thinks that the brothers truly need a blunt MC in their lives, especially with how they treat Mammon and such sometimes LOL Because there is no preference, I decided to only do the brothers for now. But I do feel bad, because my Asmodeus, Beel, and Belphie ones appear to be much shorter… Thank you for the request though, I really hope you enjoy the answer 💗

How the boys react to blunt MC

Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, and Belphegor

Reader: gn!reader

Warnings: none :)

Lucifer

I think it’s well known that Lucifer is not the softest guy when it comes to words.

Not only does he say whatever is on his mind, no matter how harsh it may be, but he also doesn’t care at all whose feelings he hurts in doing so. And yet there has never been anyone else to try and voice their opinions fullheartedly towards him.

So when he first begins spending time with you, truly, he was lowkey shocked at how blunt and honest you were.

Especially when it was towards him.

“Lucifer, did you just hang Mammon from the banister… again??” you ask, barging into his office without knocking. He was quite used to this however, and the demon had long since given up trying to scold you for it; it was no use, you would just keep doing it.

It’s not like he minded though. In fact, your presence made his head feel light after the many hours of paperwork he was going at.

“Yes, I did actually. Why do you ask?” he replied, glancing up to see you situated in front of his desk. You had your hands on your hips, obviously looking displeased. For a second, he thought your irritation was directed towards him.

“Why do I ask?” you replied back, no hesitation in your voice. “This is the third time this week. Mammon clearly hasn’t learned to fix his behavior after the first few times, and it’s obvious that hurting him won’t solve a thing!”

Oh… your irritation was directed towards him

Lucifer blinked up at you, his red eyes trying to read your face. No one ever had a problem with him punishing Mammon in the creative ways he could find; in fact, his younger brothers appeared to love watching Mammon suffer.

Apparently… you had not.

“Y/N, I-” Lucifer sighed, hell bent on just straight up telling you that Mammon will never learn.

“No. Stop doing it. He doesn’t deserve that.” You cut him off, the frustration still showing on your face. And before the demon could reply, you had turned around to whisk yourself out of his office. 

The only thing left in the room was him and his thoughts--- and the sound of his pen slipping from his fingers to bounce onto the desk.

Ohhh boy, Lucifer had never had someone stand up to him like that. It wasn’t even like you were trying to be mean, or be the more ‘dominant’ one… you were just saying what was on your mind. And Lucifer wasn’t blind.. He knew how much his other brothers meant to you, so for you to care so much as to voice your opinion to the very avatar of pride himself--- maybe, just maybe, he could give Mammon a break from punishments.

Even though people like to portray Lucifer as someone who is super strict and would want to be around I guess more ‘submissive’ people who would obey him, I think he would certainly not like an MC who allows people to walk all over them. You are the perfect balance between kindness and honesty, making you a trustworthy companion.

And a good ol’ honest comment could never truly hurt Lucifer’s feelings. His skin was as thick as bone, so to finally be around someone who isn’t intimidated to speak their mind around him… it’s almost relieving

I guess you could even say he finds it attractive….

Mammon

Mammon had always enjoyed spending time with you

From the moment he met you, you had always given off a fun and compassionate aura, and so the demon was ecstatic to finally have a partner-in-crime!

Ehhhh… it wasn’t like that though

Although you found humor and joy in going along with his harmless schemes, there were some where you put your foot down without a grain of hesitation.

When you first voiced your opinion on how bad of an idea it was to try and snap a picture of Lucifer when he was sleeping, he instantly thought you were a debby downer with a goody-goody type of attitude. Mammon had groaned out in frustration as if he was a 3-year-old child.

“Oh come on! It’ll be fun! It’s not like Lucifer will even see ya coming,” he responded, pulling out his phone to text Satan and Asmodeus his plans.

You had stared at him after that for a solid minute, your arms crossed and your eyebrows furrowed as if you were thinking. It wouldn’t take a genius to recognize how bad of an idea that was.

“Mammon, you’ll probably be punished again. Respect Lucifer’s privacy please. Besides, I think it’ll be more fun if we watched a movie tonight! What do you say we rewatch the TSL series together?” you had brought up an alternate solution to keep him out of Lucifer’s wrath, hands folded together and eyes wide as you hoped he would agree and listen to you. Mammon was just confused though, looking at you as if you were crazy.

You’d rather watch that series all over again instead of trying to cause trouble for Lucifer??

Ugh… but look at your expecting face… he couldn’t just let you down.

Surprisingly, and begrudgingly though, he had agreed.

And guess who wasn’t thrown from the banister that night?? Mammon.

Your honesty doesn’t just stop there though.

As the family punching bag, Mammon was so used to taking the hits for his stupidity and then moving on. He never fought back. So when you decided to voice out how ridiculous it was that he was being called “stupid” and how ironic it was that Asmodeus was calling Mammon an “attention-seeker” or that Satan was referring to Mammon as an “asshole”, he was whole-heartedly surprised. 

Apparently so were his other brothers.

Everyone just sort of sat there in silence as you shot comments back at them, scolding them for treating Mammon like he was dirt. It wasn’t just one instance either; Every. Single. Time. You told them to knock it off.

And just like that, the harsh insults towards Mammon began to disappear, especially whenever you were around.

The avatar of greed never had anyone to stand up for him in the ways that you had. And he feels his heart swell up with warmth as you berate Lucifer of all people for hanging Mammon upside; the fall causing his sunglasses to slip and break, much to his disappointment.

Mammon made it a goal to always be near you when he voiced his opinion around others; because not only would you acknowledge what he said, but you also made sure the others wouldn’t shoot him down for simply being himself

It was like he could breathe when he was around you. Like every single thing he said wasn’t nitpicked apart and thrown away as a stupid thing. You were different. You told him what was wrong and gave him constructive criticism.

BUT-- that honestly doesn’t protect him from himself

No one is safe from your blunt persona, not even Mammon.

I think this is what he truly needs in his life though; because I believe honesty and bluntness comes from a place of love and comfort. You are blunt because you want Mammon to be the best that he can be, you are blunt because you want to see Mammon succeed, you are blunt because you care about him.

Every honest thing you say about him is to protect him.

So whenever Mammon sneaks into Leviathan’s room at night for a limited edition figurine, or slips down Diavolo’s corridors to try and snatch a vintage portrait that could make him some potential money… he always pauses to think of your reaction to his late night greedy urges. So that when he hesitantly puts down the portrait, he can sleep comfortably knowing that you’d be proud of him.

Leviathan

To be honest… I think it would make him very nervous when he observed that you were an honest person

Even though his brothers are equally as harsh to him-- for example, they don’t hesitate to call him a nerd, or a weeb and otaku-- he doesn’t seem to mind it anyways, since Leviathan has fully absorbed and accepted his otaku persona.

But this situation is a bit different… because even though Leviathan is used to his brothers being honest with him, it’s a whole different thing when Y/N does it.

Someone out of his family circle telling him that he’s a weirdo??

Yikes, he doesn’t think his heart could handle that.

So to cope he’ll at first just stay in his room… far away from you… so he could get to his usual activities.

He is already so used to being locked up in his room away from prying eyes and others’ opinions, so as soon as he takes notice of your blunt tendencies (especially when you had first voiced your thoughts to Lucifer), Leviathan shies away from being close to a normie like you. Besides, he doesn’t even need to leave, right? He has an emergency built stash of food for when he needs to eat, and he could just do school work on his own computer.

He has this whole imaginary field of comfort that he had built up for years and years; a room full of figures and merchandise-- his own personal utopia.

Leviathan doesn’t want you to judge him; he doesn’t want you to think that he’s weird or a loser. His poor introverted otaku heart couldn’t handle it

Clearly, he didn’t understand you at all...

That doesn’t stop you from hanging around him either. You insist he shouldn’t have to wait up all night alone for tickets on Zaramela’s new worldwide tour, and you had dragged Mammon along with you to give Leviathan some company.

He felt cornered, deciding to let you in to stay up late with him. And while Mammon had fallen asleep (much to Levi’s anxiety), he was left to try and entertain you to the best of his ability.

Leviathan hesitantly hopped onto his gaming console, turning on a classic favorite of his. It was simple, it was easy, and he was very familiar with it, especially considering he had played it and completed it over 25 times.

Perhaps his movements will be more shaky and unsure, however. When you sat down to watch him play his video games, he may mess up more often, to his dismay. Your distance to him was decent enough, and you couldn’t help but smile as you watched him begin to get absorbed into the game.

“You know, you’re very good at the game…” you mutter, looking down at his fingers flying across the controller. You wonder for a moment how Leviathan can even stare at the bright screen for so long without any permanent eye damage.

Apparently he took your comment as a sarcastic one, lightly scoffing. “Okay I get it… we can do something else… like uhh..” his eyes flitted down to a random CD he had discarded on his floor a while ago. “We could watch The Girl Whose Grandparents Travelled Back in Time to Tell Her She Was a Princess,” he casually brought up airily; already in the process of turning off his video game. He reached over to grab the CD, realizing too late that this was one of the animes he didn’t really like...

You were a bit confused at the offer though. “Um no thanks. It’s a total rip off of The Girl Whose Parents Time Travelled To the Past to Tell Her She Was a Princess.” Your response was automatic, looking at the CD as if you were bored.

Leviathan paused. “What?! Y-You noticed that too??” he questioned, tossing the CD back onto the ground where it originally was. “Finally someone who understands!! The heroine was almost a complete carbon copy, I can’t believe the studio got away with that!”

You nodded your head, a serious expression on your face. “What a let down. Besides, the original had a better soundtrack 100%.”

Leviathan almost jumped on you with excitement.

Apparently not even Leviathan knew how harsh of a critic he himself was. All that harsh judgement he does on animes and video games… Perhaps you being just as blunt would be new to him. You were somehow both one in the same.

All in all, Leviathan didn’t understand how much of a blessing having an honest person in his life could be. Especially as someone who doesn’t judge; your honesty never crossed the line into personal territory. 

Instead, you gave him an opportunity to gain feedback on animes that you two binge watch together

And for the first time in forever, Leviathan felt like he had someone to indulge in.

Satan

He really really enjoys this

Satan pegs me as the type of guy that would find humor in hearing your honest opinions--- and you notice that whenever you speak your mind towards Lucifer, you can briefly hear a quiet chuckle escaping Satan’s lips.

Of course, as mature as Satan is, it’s not that he actually finds what you say humorous; he just never thought he’d see the day where some mortal human would stand up to a group of demons as intimidating as they could be.

You remind him of himself in some ways… both of you unafraid to speak your minds and both of you able to stand up for what you truly believe in.

And because of this, he registers the fact that instead of going to Solomon or Asmodeus for opinions on his books or feedback for his many essays, he goes to you.

Especially when Satan needs proper and honest feedback from someone who wouldn’t sugarcoat it. And unlike Leviathan, Satan relishes in some proper assessments.

Satan feels more drawn to you than the rest of his brothers, coming up to you for some of his more diabolical actions--- like the many pranks he kept under his sleeve for Lucifer

“Do you think Lucifer will see this one coming?” he asked you casually, sliding you a piece of paper containing a scribbled down--- yet well thought-out and detailed scheme to cause trouble yet again.

You quirk up an eyebrow, glancing away from your phone and down towards the sheet of paper. With a small sigh, you decided to give in and at least entertain the idea. He just didn’t give up, huh?

“Hmmm… didn’t you try a plan like this similar to before?” you replied, eyes raking through the pencil marks.

“Have I?” he mumbled, leaning in to feign involvement. “Yes,” you answered, dropping the paper and acting like you didn’t need to see any more.

“And it didn’t work that time. I don’t think it’ll work this time either Satan. Sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry,” he grinned.

It’s not like it was just Satan who enjoyed your presence; you would grow increasingly more and more comfortable about voicing your opinions around him. There’s only one thing better than a straightforward honest person--- and that is someone who can actually appreciate the honesty

After you recognized that Satan truly does not get bothered by whatever is on the tip of your tongue, things only got better.

I can imagine late nights where you and Satan would stay up until your eyelids became like lead and you couldn’t continue without sleep. Those nights were filled with honesty and intelligence. He thought you had a beautiful mind. He wanted to hear every opinion that popped up in your head

Asmodeus

Hmmm… Asmodeus is a bit trickier. 

As an outward and bubbly extrovert, Asmodeus was bound to hear all types of opinions from all types of different people. And judging by his insane amount of confidence, he doesn’t let any of that negative energy affect him (He says it’s bad for his skin).

It’s not like you’d say anything mean to him to begin with, especially purposefully--- but I feel everyone takes criticism differently, and some take it to heart more than others

Considering you don’t fall for Asmodeus’s mind-controlling charm, your honest and blunt nature just adds the cherry to the cake on what kind of person you are. This just makes you more natural and pleasant to be around.

So instead, he makes his use of it, making sure to drag you along with every one of his shopping sprees around town.

You wouldn’t suck up to him, or brush off his hyper enthusiasm by simply saying ‘yes’ to everything--- much like his brothers do to him

“Y/N, Y/N, do you think this color will look good on me??” Asmodeus excitedly asks, holding up a beige scarf to his neck. Both of you couldn’t care less about the wandering eyes that followed trailed towards the loud demon of lust. “I think this color looks good on me, but definitely not with the outfit I’m wearing currently.”

You smile at his animated gestures, nodding your head in agreement. 

“I do think the color suits you, but didn’t you get a beige outfit a week ago? Maybe a cream color will look better,” you mention, shifting through the scarves on the rack.

Asmodeus pauses to pose in the mirror that was conveniently placed on the store wall. “You could be right~ I heard cream is more in style right now anyways. Thank you darling 💗.” 

Beelzebub

Beelzebub doesn’t even notice you’re more blunt and honest; like, he doesn’t isolate that as your special quality

Instead, he just thinks that that is how you were as a person.

Honestly, it’s quite cute.

Whenever he eats off of the plates of others, or realizes that he just vacuumed down the cookies that you were supposed to deliver to Luke, you don’t hesitate to voice your disapproval. 

“Beel, please don’t eat other people’s food. It’s not nice,” you reprimand gently, noticing that no other brother on the table was going to say anything to reprimand him.

He quietly gulps down the rest of the food that he had finished chewing in time. “Oh… sorry,” Beel mumbled, wiping the remaining crumbs of the cookies that he knew you worked on for Luke.

He didn’t even realize he reached over to take the food.. One moment his stomach grumbled hungrily, and then the next moment he smelled the cookies you had spent all morning baking.

Whenever he ate his brothers’ food, they would always sigh and complain to Lucifer about it---which in turn caused Lucifer to tell them to just grab some more.

He really really didn’t mean it…

You sighed quietly, grabbing a napkin off of the table to aid in ridding the crumbs all over his shirt. “It’s okay Beel. Try not to do it again, kay?” It looks like you needed to throw together another batch of cookies in order to get them delivered to Luke before it got too late.

You glanced behind you, watching as Beel followed you to the kitchen again. The redhead noticed your questioning glance, and he only grinned in reply.

“I’m going to help you make more. It’s the least I can do…” he said.

The gesture must have made you happy, because he could see you return the grin instantly.

Beelzebub also happens to be lowkey blunt in his own way, because while he may hold back in speaking a lot of the time, much of what he does say (besides things food-related) is actually quite honest. He isn’t afraid to tell people what he thinks about them, but on a much lower scale than you.

I think this mixture of two similar people is wonderful--- 

Remember how I said some people take honesty and criticism to heart more than others?? Well… Beel takes to heart what you say and attempts to fix anything he can within his power.

Belphegor

Ha ha ha… ahhh Belphegor. Okay correct me if I’m wrong, but he’d totally be the type to purposefully do things that would make you snap at him or cause you to be more blunt.

He always knew you were kind-- I mean, you were the one to help get him out of the miserable attic. You were also the one willing to deal with Mammon, so… ya know.

But his level of respect for you rose when the demon took note that you were no welcome mat. 

No one could step all over you, and for a human, that was damn impressive to him.

For example, the first time he had fallen asleep in a weird position in front of you was when you, Beel, and Belphie decided it would be fun to bake some muffins for everyone. He was assigned the role of mixing together the mix and well… he fell asleep.

While standing…

You quickly snapped him out of it, voicing your opinion on how it was not the time to be sleeping--- especially if these muffins were to be done before dinner

He liked getting your attention in that way though

Belphegor was another demon with thick skin, and yet another demon who also happens to be blunt and honest (probably one the most in the family)

“You look like shit,” he mumbled into his pillow, watching you trudge into the room tiredly. You had dark under eye circles, probably due to the lack of sleep you had within the past two days, and your hair was unkempt. The strands thrown about your head like a cyclone just hit you. Belphegor had heard that you were taking extra magic lessons with Satan and Solomon, and he only assumed this was a result.

You grunted, flopping down onto the bed right next to him.

“Well, you don’t look too good yourself. But I guess that’s what 10 hours of sleep will do to you,” you bit back, the words were a bit slurred and muffled due to your face plant on the bed.

He chuckled lightly, scooching over to toss his blanket over you.

Belphegor would ask about your little magic experience later on; the loads of opinions you probably had would make due for an interesting listen.