#can you tell I don’t know how to draw funny pissed off expressions

[seaofdaydreams]

Astarion just wants his children to eat the best apples. Is that so much to ask?

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, omegaverse/hybrid au, size difference, pet-play, predator x prey, collaring, drugging

fem reader

Thinking about a human collector who decides he wants a new pet to add to his collection...

The air of the animal shelter is polluted by whimpers, howls, and growling as he parades past all sorts of rareties locked up in their cages – all for him to pick and choose from. 

The warden is telling him about the new swan hybrid they wrangled a week ago, wings like an angel with the grace of royalty, a true prize jewel of any collection. 

He thinks it sounds promising before strolling past you.

Placed in one of the smaller cages on the floor, seemingly tucked away so as not to catch anyone’s attention. 

You’re a sorry sight to behold – all starved and shaking – the collar around your throat too heavy for you to lift your head, having to look up at him through your lashes as he crouches down in front of you.

Your eyes are wide like two moons as he sticks a finger in through the bars.

It’s thick like a carrot, and for a moment, you seem like you’re about to scurry away into the very back of your cage – but instead, you inch closer, sniffing at the digit before suddenly snapping at him.

He backs away with a hiss, drawing the warden's attention – who rushes back and knocks his cain against the cage with a growl in his throat, “Stupid critter.” 

You’ve narrowed your eyes, nose wrinkled in anger – something akin to a snarl forming your lips. It’s a funny expression to see on such a normally docile breed.

“I’m really sorry, sir. Bunnies aren't usually aggressive, but we’ve had issues disciplining this one for weeks.” The warden rushes out the apologetic excuse, expecting to be sued.

But the collector only chuckles – a deep sound that makes your soft fur stiffen. “That’s fine.” 

He pulls a handkerchief from his back pocket, all movements calm and collected as he wipes the spill of blood trickling from the small bite mark you’d left on his finger.

“It’s only a nibble, after all.” 

You spit the bitter taste left in your tongue out on his shoes with another sneer.

If it angers him, it still doesn’t show through the lofty smile he wears. His leer is just as poised and heavy as he looks down at you.

“Does she talk?”

The warden had turned to lead him towards the more desirable and tamed section but halted at the question.

He had a puzzled look on his face before he answered, almost in a question himself, “We don’t know.”

The collector scoffed out another small laugh, then pulled out his phone. “How much?”

The warden seemed appalled then. “Sir, we have exotic pets more up to your standard in the back. Are you sure-”

“I want this one.”

The warden looked snuffed at his firm tone. But straightened himself out after a moment. All business as usual. “We can’t guarantee she’ll behave. It could be dangerous-”

But he’s cut off yet again, this time with another rumbling chuckle.

“That won’t be an issue.”

And those dark eyes with that deeply dominating look within them were the last thing you remember seeing before becoming a sleepy heap on the floor of your cage – drooling with a blank stare as you’re carried to the trunk and driven off with.

The tranquilizer makes you fall asleep, waking to heat swallowing you as you’re lowered into a bathtub.

“Let’s get you groomed first.” The same man murmurs in a coo. Petting your head with a heavy hand when seeing your weary eyes try blinking off the sleep – but still left too drowsy to thrash.

Instead, you can just moan as he washes you with a tender smile on his face – his big hands coarse against your creamy skin, rubbing your plush limbs with soap and oil.

“My pets have been an awful handful lately…”

He’s talking about something, but you only catch bits and pieces of the words being said. Something about ruts and scratched furniture – someone’s been pissing in the sofa, and all the pillows are ruined.

He messages the lops of your ears, then rinses them gently.

“But it’s my fault. I’ve been neglectful.”

He cups your tits next, lathering them with the warm milky water, circling your nipples with the gritty pads of his thumbs until they perk.  

Then he delves under the water to find your puffy cunt, letting the hot water rush the sensitivity, making it swell with heat as he splits the lips and pets your clit. 

You buck your hips, and he awes with a light chuckle, crooning down at you. “It's okay, little bunny.”

His carrot-sized finger teases your hole before sinking inside you, filling you in slow and tentative pumps. Sitting next to the tub, just as composed as before, while your cunt squeezes his knuckles.

He hums, watching your body fight the tranquilizer as you seize up and ripple with release.

He retracts his hand, patting them both on the fluffy towel placed next to him. A content smile on his face. “You’re gonna do perfect.”

After he’s finished drying you, he fixes a collar around your throat and carries you out to the others.

“Gather ‘round, pets.” He announces, placing you down on the soft carpeted floors beneath.

Your limbs are still heavy, too weak to stand just yet. But that all changes with the adrenaline kick.

“Come say hi to your new rut-puppet.”

The stench in the air coats your skin with sweat.

“She’s a fragile thing, though, so make sure to play nice.”

Your big eyes skitter around. 

On your left, there’s a wolf, fox, and hyena who all lick their teeth at the sight of you.

Next to them lies a bear that wakens from his slumber. He licks his snout with a huff.

Drool drips from the hang in their lips as they start panting. 

And they aren't the only ones.

On your right, there’s a panther and leopard whose eyes all blackout into nothing but a deep pool of darkness.

Their tails slowly meander behind them as they arise from their beds to stalk you.

You whimper, backing up until your back hits the legs of your new owner.

You lift your head to look up at him, only to see him smiling down at you.

“Don’t be shy now. The smell of fear only makes them wilder.”

part 2

[daemonwritesstuff]

Ladies, Gentlemen and Non-Binary Pals we interrupt your time on here with a special matchup trade with @fourtyfourcatss !!

A/N: hello fourty, i thank you so much for waiting patiently with this (: i hope you enjoy this as much as i loved your matchup you made for me too, also I learnt yet another language :D เอาล่ะ มาเริ่มกันเลย

For your Bungo Stray Dogs Matchup you’ll be with…

Sigma!

I did think of fyodor at first but I thought this handsome fellow (with a goofy ahh haircut) was a perfect match for you! he can finally be with someone who’s perfect for him, im sure you were probably a customer for the sky casino and when he saw you and also interacted with you he felt like you were someone that would be great for his casino.

He loves that your realistic but you are also optimistic, even when there’s a crisis going on with something he would probably be panicking inside but stay sting and confident but I’d think he’ll rely on you to help him.

When he has time off he would love going on walks with you, he also loves reading books too, iust read something with him as a ritual thing and he’ll just fall more in love with you (trust me I’m the nightstand).

Round-Ups: Fyodor Dostoevsky, Tokio Murakami

For your Demon Slayer Matchup you’ll be with… 

Obanai Iguro!

Idk if you’ll be happy with this one but let me explain this, yes he’s harsh, he’s cold, but when you came (I think you would be a Hashira) i would think he would be intrigued with you and possibly you guys become friends and then you guys will also become lovers too (mitsuri would be squealing in happiness I just know it).

He’s been through a LOT in his childhood, he pretty much has a lot of trauma he doesn’t share with anyone, but when you guys are deeper into the relationship he’ll explain what life was like for him when he was younger and with you being comforting he’ll be melting, this is another reason why I would put you with him, I feel like he would need someone like you.

He also find your creativity interesting too, im sure he painted here and there, if you do paint he would probably watch you or do some little things and in return… he’ll cook whatever you want for you (he cooked mitsuri like 728282 million dishes, he’s a great cook trust).

Round-Ups: Gyomei Himejima

For your Kurokos Basketball Matchup you’ll be with…

Tetsuya Kuroko!

Honestly, he would love having you as a partner as well, your someone that won’t piss him off anyways, he likes how passionate you are and also how encouraging you are!! you give him a lot of courage for each game he plays!

He would also laugh because your funny as well, your a person he can just chill around with a lot, he’s also not good at expressing to much emotions (well, he gets competitive but still) but it’s okay! he knows where you come from.

He also appreciates when you give him solutions when he’s having a tough time in life, and when he tried them and they work he’s probably like “…is my partner some kind of magician?”.

Round-Ups: No one I think? I’m sure this is good enough!

For your Final Fantasy 7 Matchup you’ll be with…

Sephiroth!

Even though he’s aloof I’d believe you guys would be quick friends right away like with Zack! He find your solutions and ways of thinking (basically your personality) really helpful!

He would appreciate having a partner with some good humor, when we you make a joke he finds funny i would think he’d chuckle a little (this is the first step congrats), he’s not… good at expressing emotions either, im sure he can tell what you feel like anyways even when you don’t show emotions.

He would also like to watch whatever you do, if it’s writing, drawing, listening to something (music in general), or do something creative he’ll isn’t watch with fascination.

For your Hypnosis Mic Matchup you’ll be with…

Jakurai Jinguji!

Okay so since you want improve on yourself he’ll definitely be open to help you in anyways possible! hes fascinated by a lot of traits he sees in your personality, he doesn’t mind whenever your either (brutality ??) honest or blunt at all, it helps him with whatever.

He would also go to you for comfort when he needs it, which is probably rare but it’s fine anyways!

Since you like listening to music, he would also suggest letting you hear what he sings with his group! Hell, he probably made a song about you.

For your Genshin Impact Matchup you’ll be with…

Shenhe!

She would totally love you! She likes how honest and opinionated you are! She’s also a individualistic person as well! But I’d think you’d both would work with each other too, she probably won’t laugh a lot but maybe let out a little giggle if so (:

She loves when you give solutions for any situations possible and they (mostly) work! She’s very impressed and surprised too.

She likes that your good at explaining things, she would also ask you for advice every great while, but she’s usually ok on here own, she’s just so fascinated by you as well.

Now, for your TCGF Matchup you’ll be with…

Xie Lian!

I’m pretty sure he would fall for you harder right away, i think you remind him of hua cheng sometimes, he doesn’t know why but just from your personality and vibes you radiate you just do! But he likes how realistic but optimistic you can be sometimes! He would support you if you are working on improvement for yourself! Like go you!

He’s someone who would be good at comforting while you are great at solving situations for anything! It’s just perfect! You guys are made for each other!

He would also enjoy taking walks with you, any season like spring, or fall, he would also have tea set up for you guys while you talk (:

[piecksz]

prove it | (m)

pairings: modern!jean kirstein x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, mirror sex, penetrative sex, saliva, fingering, finger sucking, handjob, slight mentions of breeding, explicit language

words: 3k+

summary: your jealousy sparks a bitter argument between you and jean, but he shows in more ways than one, that you’re the only person he’s infatuated with. 

a/n: as always, if you wanna fully immerse yourself in the smut hehe you can listen to the songs i looped incessantly while writing: girls need love too by summer walker and excitement by trippie redd and PARTYNEXTDOOR (you cannot tell me that jean wouldn’t listen to either he’s so sexy omg pls free me from my brainrot)

You gripped the fabric of your dress, hiking it up above your ankles to make sure the material didn’t get caught under the sharp heels of your shoes while you stormed into the house. Seething with outrage, you swung the front door shut behind you, savoring the few seconds of solitude you had before Jean trailed behind you clamorously.

“I already told you, and I’m telling you—again—I didn’t know she was going to be there!” Jean was insistent, his footfall demanding on your tail as he followed you into the kitchen. His fingers were carelessly twined in his hair, an overt demonstration of his stress.

You hastily tossed your purse onto the counter, paying no mind to the way it slid across the granite and almost toppled over its edge onto the floor. “Bullshit Jean. It was your fucking event, how did you not know she was gonna be there?” You spared him an irate glance, it was the first time you’d looked at him since the two of you left the venue.

The entire ride home, Jean had attempted to make conversation, asking you if you’d enjoyed yourself and trying to solicit your opinion on how he’d done coordinating his company’s milestone event. Following the successful closing of a large venture deal and the expansion of the corporation, his boss had entrusted him to organize a company soirée to celebrate, and if Jean’s event had managed to go off without a hitch, a possible promotion was in the cards for him. However, much to Jean’s confusion you were quiet in your responses, mainly giving one word answers and little praise.

After relentless prodding, you snapped, admitting you were irritated after seeing Jean talking to Mikasa, an old coworker and friend of his. You’d disappeared for only a moment to use the bathroom, but when you returned, the two were engrossed in what seemed like interesting chatter. Seeing the way Jean laughed after everything she said prompted the agitation in your lower stomach to boil up into your throat. Nothing was that funny.

“Maybe I overlooked her name on the guest list.” Jean’s fingers left his hair and wrapped around his tie, tugging to loosen it.

“Oh, you sure looked over her while you two were talking and laughing.” You stood on your toes to grab a mug from the cabinet before slamming its wooden door shut. “What was so funny? The fact that you used to fawn over her like an idiot?”

You shuffled back over to the sink, flipping the faucet and watching as the mug filled with water before bringing the cup to your lips to take a long drink. You sighed as the liquid quenched your dry throat, raw from yelling. You peered over the top of the mug at Jean, eyes following him as he made his way over to the selection of hard liquor against the kitchen wall.

“There you go. Name calling like a fucking child.” He poured himself a generous glass of booze, chuckling wryly and taking a sip.

You pulled the mug away from your mouth. “You—are so—,” you started, but your words disbanded into a loud and frustrated groan.

“I’m so what?” Jean swirled the auburn liquid around in his glass, pretending to look more interested in the way it moved than in the conversation you two were having.

“You don’t want me to finish that sentence, Jean. You really don’t.” You set your cup down loudly, so forcefully it might have shattered with just another ounce of force. “Stop acting like I’m overreacting. You know I’m not the jealous type, you fucking know that. I wouldn’t care, but you know you guys have history together.”

“Yeah, history means that it was in the past,” Jean retorted. “It was in the fucking past.”

You leaned forward on the counter, dipping your head low as if to question the validity of your boyfriend’s reply. “You’re telling me you’d be okay seeing me with an old flame?” You laughed humourlessly.  “You complained for ten minutes after a waiter called me sweetheart.”

Jean took another long sip, then exhaled. “Because he clearly couldn’t tell the difference between horny and hospitality. Now you’re blaming me because you couldn’t see that?”

You nodded sardonically, a disbelieving smile shadowing on your lips while you reached behind your neck to unclasp your necklace. “And how’s that any different from this?”

“Mikasa never liked me back, what’s the problem? Did you just pick a topic out of a hat to bitch about?” Jean downed the rest of his alcohol, and then returned the short glass to the display. He wiped at his lips with his thumb and started back toward the kitchen.

“Fuck you, Jean.”

He let out a low chuckle while he rounded the length of the counter, sauntering in long strides until he was behind you with his large hands planted on the curve of your hips. He dipped his head, letting his mouth ghost by your ear. “You know, you’re kind of hot when you’re mad.” His palms began roaming, first gliding across your stomach before moving to your backside and cupping your ass in the curve of his hand. “Especially in that dress. You look really fucking good, baby.”

You barely cracked a smile. “Yeah?”

Jean’s low voice rumbled against your back. “Hell yeah.”

You turned around to face him, gazing up at him from behind sultry lids. “Then how about…,” you started, teasing him by fiddling around with the loose buttons on his shirt. “You sleep dreaming about all the things you wish you could do to me tonight. Because you’re not getting any.” Your seductive expression fell, and you pushed him backwards so you could slide out of the space between his body and the counter.

As you retired into your bedroom, you heard Jean’s weary voice echo from outside. “You’re cold.”

“Good,” you responded back resoundingly. “Maybe Mikasa’s free.”

“Maybe she is!” he retaliated, and although he wasn’t in front of you, you could nearly see the way he rolled his eyes at your spiteful jab.

You rolled your eyes back. “Shitforbrains.”

You removed your earrings, throwing them onto the dresser with your necklace before slipping out of your heels and stepping out of your dress. You struggled to make haste, trying to get ready for bed as quickly as you could before Jean entered the bedroom and had a chance to say anything that would incite another feud. Lazy and clad in your undergarments, you hauled yourself into the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror lethargically while you brushed your teeth and removed your makeup with halfhearted effort.

“Do I need to prove it to you?”

You removed the cold wipe from your lids, opening your eyes and watching as Jean wandered into the bathroom. He continued walking until he met you at the sink, and he wrapped his long arms around your frame again.

“Come here,” he said, pulling you into him until the space between your bodies waned. You gave him an unamused glare through your reflection in the mirror, and resumed rubbing away at your persistent eyeliner.

“Should I mark up that pretty neck of yours?” Jean nestled his face into the curve of your neck, pressing messy, carnal kisses along the side of your throat until his lips met the dip underneath your jawline. He lightly brushed over it, knowing it was your sweet spot. Every time he wanted to turn you into a frenzy of moans, that spot was the easiest way he knew how.

“Or maybe I should have you carry our child.” His hands were hot against your stomach, the soft pad of his finger drawing a delicate circle around your navel. You were glad it didn’t tickle enough to make you laugh.

“You’re pissing me off,” you said, simply.

Jean released a husky groan that vibrated against the hollow of your throat. “You’re turning me on.” He hummed. “You feel that?”

You did. Against your ass, you could feel the prominence of Jean’s hardened cock through his pants, digging eagerly into your backside, and he did nothing but continue to fuel his lust by rubbing his erection against you.

“You’re the only one that can get me hard like this,” he strained, grunting at the discomfort in his briefs.

“Look how pretty you are.” Jean took your chin in his hand and prompted you to look at yourself in the mirror. He hovered over your shoulder and looked on, like he was only spectating. “Do you think anyone compares to you?”

His eyebrows creased while amber eyes fixated on your skeptical face. After a lack of response, he jerked your chin, forcing your attention back to yourself. “Answer me.”

“No,” you said quickly.

“Exactly. Good answer.” Jean’s thumb swept gently across your chin while he withdrew his hand.

Your timid eyes drifted over to him, observing as he slid two digits into his mouth, glazing them generously with saliva before lolling his tongue and pulling his fingers out. A thick string of spit lingered until his hand dipped and slid itself into your underwear.

You choked back a desperate cry once you felt Jean part your folds, using his wet fingers to pet the sensitive swell of your clit. Instinctively, you wrapped a sweaty, tremulous hand around his wrist, but it did nothing to quell his painfully tender ministrations.

“Jean,” you murmured. Your voice was breathy, just barely above a whisper while you gave in and rolled your hips against his hand. “Fuck, wait—Jean—”

“I love the way you say my name.” He placed his free hand on your breast. His fingers hooked onto the delicate fabric of your bra and tugged the material down, freeing your nipple. “Say it louder.”

“Jean,” you mewled loudly as he began flicking the hardening peak of your chest with a ginger touch. His movements were delicate and sensual, as though he wanted to kindle an impatient desire within you.

Jean’s fingers continued to rub slow, tortured circles into your clit and he eased into you every few seconds to make sure he was keeping his fingers slick. Once he heard your whimpers begin to ebb, he would stop and switch the direction of his motion, sending you into another flurry of moans and taking pleasure in the filthy-wet mess he was creating in your panties. “Louder.”

You bit your lip and closed your eyes until the darkness of your eyelids melted into white heat. The familiar torrent of quivers shook your body, and the surface of your skin tingled with the onset of your orgasm. You dug your nails into Jean’s forearm, and in the haze of your high you forgot about all of your concerns.  

“Jean!” You cried his name again, your wail echoing off of the bathroom walls while you writhed against his hold. You moved restlessly, looking for absolutely anything to cling to in an attempt to steady yourself until your climax subsided.

After you came to and regained your soundness, you scrutinized yourself in the mirror through misty tears, chagrined at how easily you’d submitted to him. You were situated limply in Jean’s arms, bottom lip swollen from persistent biting in your best efforts to veil how good he was truly making you feel, but from the sickeningly-smug simper on his face it was obvious that now Jean knew his fingers were more fruitful than an apology. Which meant this episode surely wouldn’t be the last of its kind.

He slotted his fingers into his mouth for the last time, sucking the silken coat of your arousal off of them before releasing them with a quiet pop, then Jean’s other hand crept up your neck until his thumb drove itself to part your closed lips, just wide enough so he could stick his lubricous fingers inside.

“Mhm,” he encouraged, nodding at the way you meekly looked to him for direction.

Jean’s fingers were warm and sloppy in your mouth as you sucked and he watched you intently, undoubtedly wishing that his cock could receive the same treatment. He sighed heavily as you wreathed your hot tongue around his knuckles.

“Good girl,” he breathed, pulling his digits from your jaws before his urge to stick them down your throat and watched as you gagged through tears became insatiable.

Jean worked one hand against his belt, unbuckling it skillfully before impatiently forgoing his buttons and tugging on his zipper instead. His breathing grew labored while you watched from the mirror as he shuffled behind you, and you canted yourself to the side to provide yourself with a clear view of Jean’s cock in the surface’s reflection.

His thick length pulsated, convulsing even without contact, and every time it did so, a fresh stream of precum dribbled from the swollen, red crown of his tip. With a light hand, Jean tapped his cock against the side of your thigh, prompting you to take him in your palm, and when you obeyed, it elicited a lengthy groan from him.

“Fuck, Y/N.”

You weighed his hot and heavy cock in your hand before beginning to move slowly, flicking your wrist and evoking the jerking of Jean’s hips when you did. His head hung forward and loose strands of his neatly tucked hair billowed around his face while he watched as your hand worked against his throbbing heat.

Jean delivered another set of kisses to your neck, kissing along your jawline until he stopped at the corner of your mouth to take a brief second to acknowledge his own pleasure. “Shit,” he grunted, his fleshly pants now becoming uncontrollable. “Okay, that’s enough.”

You loosened your grip around Jean’s cock while he curled his fingers around the cloth of your thin underwear, pulling it down until he stopped midway past your thighs, then his large hand settled between your shoulder blades to bend you over.

His palm collided with the pert curve of your ass, delivering a mild spank, and then he ghosted his touch over the stinging pain, blithely enjoying the way you whimpered his name ever so quietly. Jean positioned himself at your dripping entrance, prodding the tight hole with his tip over and over again just to taunt you until you glowered uncomfortably at him through the mirror.

“Stop it,” you heaved, your longing now turning into an unbearable itch.

Normally, you knew Jean would have loved to tease you, disregarding your begging and instead working even harder to rouse you, but you could tell by the sweat that beaded around his hairline that he needed relief too. So Jean spared you, grip tightening on your hips, and he pushed himself into you with a husky and guttural moan that overwhelmed your delicate whines.

He wasted no time and began moving, gradually picking up his pace until he decided on a moderate speed, not too rough, but just forceful enough that your breasts jounced and your body lurched against the sink whenever he thrusted into you.

“I always tell you how good you feel, do you need to hear it again?” Jean murmured, watching as his cock disappeared inside you and whenever he pulled back to rock his hips forward again, it glistened with a new layer of your arousal. “Your pretty pussy always takes me so well.”

He leaned into you, wrapping an arm around your waist and placing his hand on your shoulder, holding you in place while he fucked himself into you, over and over again. You tugged at Jean from deep inside your well, tightening your walls around his cock and causing his jaw to go slack with bliss.

“The way you fucking milk me, I could cum right now.” His balls slapped ceaselessly against your skin, and the sound of two sweaty bodies married together saturated the thick sex-tainted air. You struggled to watch yourself in the mirror, mouth wide open and eyes bloodshot from your tiredness and tears. Jean’s lips brushed against the shell of your ear and sent a ripple of goosebumps down the expanse of your back.

“I wish I could take a picture of you right now and keep it for later.” He panted into your ear. “You’re the only thing I can think of when I jerk off, it would be nice to have a visual.” When you said nothing he smiled, tugging at the softness of your lobe with his teeth. “Maybe next time, yeah?”

You could only give a weak and disoriented nod, and when you felt Jean’s cock twitch inside you, coupled with the way his muscles tensed underneath his skin, you knew he was close. You wrapped your hands around the arm curved about your waist and nodded at him again, cueing that you wanted to feel his release inside you.

Jean arched an eyebrow, his thrusts becoming sloppier, but he made no efforts to slow his cadence. “Yeah, you’re gonna let me cum inside you?”

You nodded silently for a third time.

Jean delivered a few more generous jerks before the small of his back tightened and he came inside you, amply flooding your chafed walls with his hot seed until you overflowed, and the creamy, white liquid seeped past the girth of his cock and began dribbling down the inside of your thigh.

Jean pulled his now limp cock out, wiping his essence gently on your folds before pulling you into another doting embrace. His clinch was tight, warm cheeks pressed against each other while he looked at you in the mirror with complete and unadulterated adoration.

“I love you,” he affirmed before flipping you over in his arms to face him. He bent down to press a salty and clammy kiss to your mouth, his lips stalling for a few moments longer before he pulled away and then delivered another kiss to your forehead. “Alright, stupid?”

You bobbed your head briefly, now embarrassed at your earlier outburst. You sunk into Jean’s torso, head against his chest, and mumbled sheepishly. “I love you too.”

The two of you stood together, arms encircling each other until Jean carefully broke his caress and began tugging you in the direction of the shower.

“Come on baby.” He grinned. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

[tamelee]

And that is just it, because maybe next time draw them not cheating and we can be friends. Il even support you. But I will not support yaoi obsessed fangirls that make a compelely different story when clearly there are two happy families that youre trying to ruin just because you want to see two guys together. Can you not read? Have you not seen the anime? And like I said with the other one SS also is happily married it is all canon AND BESIDES THAT they have a daughter. If you say and you claim that, that you like these characters so much, then stop making them look so bad. They go from happy husbands to mean cheaters because yaoi girls are horny.

I dont think youve even read gaiden if youre going to claim things about Sarada. Ive seen what you implied, but I think you just cant handle the truth. You know nothing about it and I dont think youve even read the novel which is canon btw. So why dont you stop making these guys look so bad?

Thankyou.

Man I hate to do this, because in no way do I like to be this negative, and you messaging me telling me what I can or cannot draw, I can still easily ignore. Your other asks similar to this are just funny to me. Fact is, I don’t care about your preferred and superficial ships or your support in any way.

But you editing my art is in no way acceptable, that’s common decency. Worse, you just had to insert Hinata into it, I mean what else is new- no I’m not surprised I’m just pissed off, because it seems as well that you’ve been harassing others too.

Don’t come here trying to lecture me as if I’m a little child, miss princess-hime/sama/chan. Get off your high horse, I’ll only reply once.

I don't know what I said about Sarada/Gaiden, but I have an idea.. so if you must know: yes, I am in fact studying creating a manga. Yeah, that says jack-shit- I’ll get to the point.

I’ve been obsessively studying story/world/character building ever since 2020 when I decided to learn how to draw in order to create my own web-manga, but I’ve been completely ignorant then, thinking that learning that was all I needed to do.

The way you set-up your panels, the flow in which the reader goes through your story, how you carefully pick out every single word of your characters and give anything you see, objects, gestures, composition, expressions.. all are equally as important! (If not more.) Then there are parallels and recurring themes, little hints and details.. the pace. It all matters.

Keep all I said before in mind and in short, Gaiden screams: “Sarada’s very existence is probably (partly) science based and Karin is in any case involved. Perhaps Orochimaru too. Also, they all look guilty, distressed and obviously are keeping secrets about the way she’s conceived/born and there is no proof SS are even married.” The recurring theme from Naruto to Gaiden however still is “connection” and “bonds”.

That’s just a fact. Canon Manga-wise. Same with everything SNS.

Now whether that eventually is the case or not we don’t know, we’ll have to wait. However, we don’t call the author: ‘Kishimoto-sensei’ for no reason. The man’s a genius as he forces us at times to read studiously in order to pick up the complex, though very obvious allegory within the Naruto-verse. He completely makes use of the previously mentioned manga potentials as expressive tools in order to deliver in my opinion the most beautiful narrative between two people ever written as well as darker themes which on the surface may seem like “just an easy-to-read shonen story.”

If you’re going to lecture me on storytelling, then in turn, I’d like to recommend you to look into Allegories in Literature. If you understand this method of writing and you would take off your NH/SS goggles then you might come to know what I mean. Meh, a little far-fetched to ask of you, but I still have hope.

But anyway, Kishimoto implying the Sarada thing in Gaiden and then in the end doing a complete 180 would be..

..well, maybe a repetition of Chapter 700 of Naruto. Defying all storytelling rules, dropping it all in the bin, rapidly diminishing, as if he suddenly forgot he was creating Naruto for a large part of his life.

It wouldn’t make any goddamn sense. But it can happen.

I would hold your ignorant hand to test my own patience and walk you through it, but there are people already who have made very insightful posts pointing out most of the things I had in mind. I would leave links, however I'm sure you’d go harass them also, so go look for it yourself if you must, but keep your shitty opinions to yourself. (Again.. I have hope!!)

NOT ONE SNS fan cares about your silly “they’re married” or “it’s in the novel (fancy fanfiction, you mean)” arguments, trust me. In fact, I can guarantee you that there is nothing you can come up with that’ll make any of us sprinkle some value on your hunched over form as you proudly gush out Viz Media’s latest marketing plans that keeps your little shipping heart temporarily happy.

It’s like stopping a stranger on the street and creepily whisper to them that “water’s wet” and expect them to be so enlightened that they’ll follow you around and join you behind your stalker tree for support.

Idk if you’ve seen Attack on Titan, but this is what you remind me of.

Now get your homophobic ass out of here.

[proserpina-magnus]

Hiiiiii could I request a Marauders x reader… platonic. Where they are just coaxing her through a bad day/migraine?

Hii! there isn't that much comforting other then them being clingy and sorta protective, but I still hope you like!!

The Marauders When You Have A Migraine

Word count; 1.8k

[ Warning: fem reader, doodles, eating, migraines/description of headaches, swearing, Sirius refers to you as “their baby” ]

Quick note, there’s a scene where the boys draw on the reader with a marker. I didn’t specify what colour the marker was, so depending on your skin colour you can interrupt the colour as you wish.

You slumped at the Gryffindor dining table, hair matted in a low messy hairstyle. You didn't even try and brush it out, you woke up and left it how it was. You couldn't even bring yourself to dress in new fresh clothing, you wore what you slept in.

Eyeing the breakfast options, you felt a pain tingle through your head. The nerves bunching and squeezing together to make it unbearable to concentrate.

" [ name ]! We have class in 15 minutes and you're not even dressed!" James bellowed from across the table, you pushed your shoes against the floor and slumped. Remus gave a confused look, his eyes narrowing as he glanced between Peter and Sirius.

"Come on, we have time to get some food in 'ya," Sirius declared, pushing toast onto your plate. The curly raven haired male even buttered your toast just the way you liked, even filling your glass with fresh squeezed orange juice.

"How 'ya feel-in?" Peter pronounced through mouthfuls of food, James swatting the blonds head in retaliation. "Wormy, don't speak with your mouth full,"

Sirius cackled from beside you, Peter stomped his foot onto Sirius in response. Sirius made a dramatic scene, falling towards the cold stone floor as he held his foot with forced shaky breaths. "My foot! My foot! I've been assaulted!" He whined, rolling from side to side.

Remus lets out a loud sigh from beside you, your head buzzing from the noise of ongoing chatter. You could hear James laugh loudly, like he always does. Usually his laugh was contagious, but it was incredibly annoying at the moment. Along with snickers and loud whines, you gripped your cup and brought it to your lips. Peter swallowed, reaching for another pancake as he watched you take long sips.

" ya never answered my question," Peter rambled before taking a gracious bite. You shrugged, Sirius sliding back into his seat. The boys all looked towards you, your fork picking at the blueberries Sirius pushed onto your plate moments prior.

"Another headache?" James asked, cleaning his pants from crumbs as he pushed his finished plate aside. You nodded briefly, a plain expression adorned on your features. Another hot buzz dangled in your mind, your forehead throbbing along with it.

"Maybe we should take you to madam Pomfry, you shouldn't be getting them this often," Remus responded. Sirius made a pouting face, before he took you into his arms.

"Our baby is hurt!" Sirius exaggerated loudly, causing staring eyes to look towards the group of friends. You flushed a bit, embarrassed by Sirius nature. You pushed him away, going back to picking at your food.

"I ain't nobody's baby," you said while pushing Sirius further away, James and Peter sniggered as Sirius made puppy dog eyes. You rolled your eyes, a bit grumpy from the constant throbbing.

"Bloody hell, it fucking hurts. It's not even bad, it's just the constant throbbing is pissing me off," you complained, shoving the piece of toast in your mouth. You watched as students finished eating, occasionally leaving for their first class of the day.

The boys all exchanged looks, Remus placing a hand on your back to give it a gentle rub. You push your plate back, your arms coming on the table as you rest in them.

As more students leave, professor Mcgonagall makes her way over to your rambunctious group. She softens at the scene, seeing the four boys rub your shoulder or arms to try and give their sympathy.

You sigh as you hear her shoes click with the ground, professor Mcgonagall stands a few inches away from you all. She clears her throat, all eyes directing towards her except for you.

"Class is about to start... is there a problem with miss [ last name ]?" The older woman asked, trying to mask her worry. Remus had explained earlier to her that you had been having numerous migraines.

"She's having another headache Minnie, our baby is dying!" Sirius exclaimed, Remus reaching over to swat him away from you with an annoyed look plastered on his face. Even though you couldn't see Sirius, you laughed as you thought about his whining face.

Professor Mcgonagall clasped her tongue, about to tell off Sirius for the nickname he'd given her. But instead, she placed her attention on you.

"I'll take her to the infirmary, surely madam Pomfrey has a potion to help," she explained, the boys all standing together in the same motion. You still kept your head pressed into your forehead.

"Can we go with her?" James whispered, hoping that they could be with you. They all hated when you were in pain, it felt like they had to protect you. You were their bestfriend, they surely couldn't let a thing ever bug you unless it was them.

"I'm sorry Potter, but you have class," Professor McGonagall frowned, the boys were about to protest to stay with you. But Minnie quickly shut them down, her hand raising as all the boys shut their jaws closed.

"It's alright, I'll see you later," you told them, raising with a throb as you walked with them all towards the doors. You parted way painfully, Sirius almost crying as he clung onto your leg. The rest of the boys watched, even James tearing up. He took his round spectacles off, dabbing his eyes with a spare cloth he had in his pocket.

"You can't be serious," you retorted at them, an annoyed look on your face as Minnie checked her watch with frowned eyes.

"Well... technically," Sirius began, but he couldn't finish his sentence as you kicked him off of you. You were upset, tired, and in pain. As much as you loved them, they were too much sometimes.

"Just go, I'll see you later," you tried to cover up your annoyed state, but the boys picked up on it. Sirius straightened up, fixing his shirt as they left with their heads down casted towards the ground.

"Idiots they are," you told Professor McGonagall, she only laughed and led you towards the infirmary.

—-

After a few missed classes, it was finally lunch. All the boys scrambled to the dining hall, shoving foods on plates. They ignored the stares, jogging up to the infirmary where you slept.

With the creak of the door, Sirius and James peaked inside. They saw no one, only a lump on the farthest bed. They all skipped over to you with slow whispers, trying to make sure you won’t wake up. Sirius pushed the blanket of your face, all of them relieved to see you still asleep.

“Prongs, do you have a spare marker on you?” Sirius asked, a growing smirk on his face. James put down the plate on a nearby table, fishing through his pockets to try and find a marker.

“Pads, no,” Remus said sternly, knowing what the raven haired male would do. Peter looked between the three boys, a bit unsure of what Sirius was going to do. The blonde boy put his plate near James, picking up half a sandwich as he sat near your feet.

“Pads yes,” Sirius smiled widely, James passing him the thick inked marker. Remus rolled his eyes, not stopping Sirius from his antics. Sirius crawled on the bed, an evil smile on his features as he unclasped the marker. He wrote “baby” with big thick letters on your forehead, giggling when you twitched and tried to swat his hand away in your sleeping state.

“Give me the marker,” James whispers, not waiting for Sirius to pass him it as he snatched it for himself. The bispecticle male drew 4 happy stick figures and a rat on your cheek, his tongue poked out in concentration.

“Why am I the only one in my amingi form?” Peter asked, frowning as James passed him the marker. He began to draw a small smiley face in your open palm, writing a messy “Peter was here” on your arm.

“Because, there wasn’t enough room and plus, you’re cuter in rat form,” James teased, but his words sounded very sweet so Peter took it as a compliment. Sirius and Remus cackled loudly, making you stir awake. Your eyes fluttered open, looking around between the boys above you.

“Uh… hello?” You greeted, stretching slightly as you looked around the empty room. Sirius pushed Peter and James away from the bed, sprawling his limbs out to hog you from their affection.

“Hi!” They all chanted at once, Remus moving closer as he pushed at Sirius to make room. The tall male sat down, rummaging through his bag for a minute before pulling out a chocolate bar.

“Eat,” Remus said, even opening the wrapper for you. He broke off a piece, swatting Sirius's wandering hand when he tried to take a piece for himself. You sat up on the bed, unaware of the markings on your skin. You chewed the gooey chocolate, resting against the bed frame with a satisfied hum.

“Did you bring me food?” You asked, a smile on your face as you realized all the plates. The boys nodded, bringing the plates over for you all to feast upon.

“What’s so funny?” You asked when Sirius started to laugh, James also chuckling. You irked slightly, touching over your face to try and see if there were crumbs. This made the boys laugh harder, making you feel embarrassed as you choke out a “what? Is there something on my face?”

You notice the little doodle Peter left you, realizing what had happened. You pushed Sirius's head, making him bump into James. You laughed at the scene, both boys rubbing their forehead with a pouty face.

“Does it come off?” You asked Remus, a sigh on your lips as you ran off towards the bathroom.

“Nope,” he called out, a small smile on his face. You looked in the mirror, seeing the obvious doodles drawn by your boys. You knew exactly who the culprit was for the big letters written on your forehead.

“Sirius! What the hell is this?” You called, stomping back to the bed where they all sat. Sirius raises his hands, pointing to James and Peter. “It’s not just me! They did it as well!”

“You bitch,” James gasped, a hand on his heart as he held a dramatic glint in his eyes. Peter dropped his head, muttering his apologies. All the boys start to bicker at Sirius, calling him a tattletale. You smile and lean back against the bed, bringing a biscuit to your mouth as you watch the quarrel unfold, this was definitely the entertainment you needed on this shitty day.

[helloprettybb]

slip of the tongue

i love bucky with all my heart. that’s it.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

description: bucky doesn’t really like you. but a night alone and a stab wound may change his opinion.

warnings: violence, bad description of action scene, heated kissing??? not smut but implied

word count: 1.9k

Bucky hates you. It isn’t difficult seeing as you’re Stark’s daughter and every quality in the man is tenfold in you. You’re crazy smart and you aren’t afraid to show it. Perhaps your worst attribute is your arrogance since it’s justified most of the time. Bucky hates how you’re always right and the stupid smirk on your face when you outwit or outtalk someone.

He knows you can tell and that’s the worst part. It seems you do everything in your power to irk him even more. Like trying to talk to him every time he enters the room or asking for every excruciating detail for any minor event. You get on his nerves and nothing could change that.

The team left for a mission this morning so it’s just you and Bucky at the Compound. After doing nothing all day, Bucky decides to go for an afternoon run. He doesn’t listen to music, as he enjoys the sounds of the city between the mindless chatter and the speeding cars, it reminds him of his youth.

Towards the end of his run, Bucky starts toward the Compound when his ears pick up a yell. Going towards the noise, he spots three men assaulting a woman. She tries her best to hold them off, but she is greatly outnumbered and outmatched by the three, burly men.

Bucky springs into action and grabs the man whose hands are around the woman’s throat. Yanking him off easily, Bucky shoves the man to the ground with a force that was probably harder than necessary, but he doesn’t feel an ounce of remorse as he moves his attention to the two other attackers. He grabs the second man, who is slightly shorter than the first and punches him square in the jaw. He releases the woman and stumbles back. The third man lands a few punches on him, but they barely phase Bucky. While fighting off the last man, Bucky doesn’t notice the first guy get up. He also fails to notice the shiny knife in his hand before it’s too late. The man stabs Bucky in the side. Now Bucky’s pissed as he pushes the third man into the wall. He turns toward the man with the knife and knocks him out cold.

He looks around and realizes the woman must have run away. “Good.” he thinks, but only for a minute as he remembers that he got fucking stabbed. He groans as he applies pressure to the wound.

Bucky makes it back to the Compound, but the pain is getting worse. Stumbling inside, he heads for the labs to look for a medkit. But of course, since it’s his lucky day, you’re there, too. You’re probably finishing the project that you were talking about for the past few weeks - something about particles accelerating, but Bucky didn’t care enough to ask. He hopes he can slip by unnoticed, but the gaping hole in his side draws attention to him.

Your head snaps up from your work and you see Bucky hobble by. “Heya Buck,” you start in your usual playful manner. But when you look at the state he’s in, your attitude changes immediately, “What the fuck happened?”

“It’s nothing.” he grumbles. You look down and see that he’s holding his side. His sweatshirt and fingers are covered in blood.

“Bullshit.” you say. Moving around the lab, you quickly find the medkit. “Sit down.”

“I don’t need your-”

“Shut up and sit down.” you interrupt. Bucky’s protests stop as he sits down on one of the stools. You pull up a chair and open the kit.

“Y’know this will probably heal by tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but it can’t heal if you bleed to death.” you retort. While the injury most likely won’t kill him, your point still stands. “Can I?” you motion to his hand. He removes his hand and you quickly pull his sweatshirt up to treat the wound. Luckily it’s a shallow stab wound and the gauze you put on is enough to stop him from bleeding out. As you continue to apply the gauze, you have to force yourself to not get distracted by his defined abs and focus all your attention on the wound. Your fingers trace over his stomach and he jumps slightly.

“Sorry,” you mutter. Your hands must be freezing from being down in the lab for so long. Once you finish applying the gauze, you say, “There, all done.” You look up at Bucky and are unable to read his expression. It causes you both to fall into an awkward silence. “So,” you say to clear the air, “How’d this happen?”

“Some guys were attacking this woman. Didn’t know one of them had a knife.” He responds gruffly. You nod in understanding.

You finish patching him up and say, “If you need anything like extra bandages or a beer, just come to me.” Bucky simply nods, unsure what to make of that proposition. He begins to leave awkwardly and almost makes it out of the lab before something in him makes him turn back.

He pops his head in and says, “You said something about beer?”

-

Bucky doesn’t know what time it is and he doesn’t care. He’s on his fourth beer, but he can’t get drunk so it doesn’t really matter. It’s funny because one beer turned into two and then three and now he’s found himself in a full-on conversation with you. And the most surprising part is that it’s delightful.

Behind your arrogance and quick judgments, you’re really funny. He knew you were smart, that wasn’t a surprise, but talking to you more changed his opinion of you.

“So, Buck.” Usually, that nickname didn’t get to him but a healing stab wound and a couple of beers will change anyone’s perception.

“What?” he asks.

“Got any lucky girl?” He scoffs at that and you look shocked. “What? It was simply a question.”

“It wasn’t the question, doll.” Since when did he call you doll? Just a slip of the tongue, he supposes. “It was the fact that I’d even have someone.” he says honestly.

“What do you mean? You’re a good-looking guy, just over one hundred. Any girl would be lucky to have you.” Bucky rolls his eyes and laughs. Damn, you’re growing on him.

“I’m serious!” you exclaim. Your left arm is on the couch and your hand is leaning against your hand. He realizes this is the closest you’ve been besides before when you were tending to his stab wound. “You’re a catch, Buck. What stops all the ladies from falling all over you?”

He rolls his eyes at you again whether at your persistence or wording. “I’m a bad guy, doll.” There it is again.

“That’s not true,” you scoff. Taking a sip from your beer, you casually add, “Besides, I’ve always had a thing for the bad ones,” Bucky raises an eyebrow at that. “Come on, Buck. I’ve liked you for a pretty long time. I thought I made it quite obvious.”

“By annoying the hell outta me?” He jokes.

“Hey, I was just trying to talk to you. Although I know I can come across as….”

“Annoying.” he says back. You give him a look that makes him laugh and soon a smile spreads across your face.

“I actually do care about you. But, I know you don’t feel the same way, so I’m happy just being friends.” Bucky thinks it over for a moment. Just this morning he was thinking about how you bothered the hell out of him. Actually, the more that he thinks about it, he realizes that he never really hated you. Did Bucky like you all along? He’s about to reply when the elevator doors open.

“Oh, you’re back?” you turn to greet the team.

“Hey, what are you doing up so late with Bucky?” Your dad eyes the two of you suspiciously.

You catch onto what he’s implying and assure him, “We’re just hanging out. In fact, I was just heading to my room. See you tomorrow.” You say a quick goodbye and leave before anyone could say anything.

They all turn to Bucky, ready to attack him with questions. “I’m going to head up, too.” Bucky quickly exits. He catches up to you, although he definitely didn’t mean to. Curse his long legs.

“Oh, hey,” you say as he enters the sleeping quarters.

“Hey,” he says. Fuck it, mind as well try it. “So, about the friend thing.”

You wince, “You don’t want to be friends.” You seem a little hurt by it, “I get it, you don’t really like me. It’s not like I can force you, too. And especially after I basically confessed to liking you as more than a friend, I could see how a potential friendship wouldn’t sound too appealing.” You’ve never looked this uneasy. He’s used to seeing you so confident and assured, but this was new.

Bucky lets you finish rambling before he replies, “No, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Oh.” He laughs a little, finally shutting you up. He moves closer, but you stay still. You both can tell what’s about to happen, yet neither is making a motion to stop it.

“I like you. As more than a friend.” You look like you’re trying to play it cool and contain your excitement, but Bucky sees you bite your lip like you’re trying to stop your smile from spreading.

“So…” You start like you’re thinking long and hard about what you’re about to say, “Can I kiss you?” You’re adorable. Bucky takes one last step and pulls you into a kiss.

Your lips are soft against his. Beyond the taste of beer, Bucky picks up some… he swipes his tongue over your bottom lip… cherry lipgloss. He’ll never get sick of the taste of cherries. He thought it’d be a sweet, innocent kiss but when you grab at his back, trying to hold him as close as possible, he knows it’s anything but. You kiss him hungrily as if your life depends on it and Bucky eagerly accepts. He muffles your moans and gasps and thinks about how nice those sounds will be echoed in his bedroom.

Bucky moves you so that your back is against the wall. You moan as his hands trail down your sides and onto your ass. His hands go under your thighs and you jump so that you can wrap your legs around his waist. Bucky catches you and pins you between himself and the wall.

Your hands go up to his hair and play with a few strands before pulling lightly. He groans at that, separating from your lips and throwing his head back. With his neck exposed, you trail kisses up and down his throat. Sucking and biting occasionally and making Bucky go crazy.

Two can play at that game, he thinks. He reconnects your lips to kiss you again and starts grinding his hips into you. Your hands go to his back and start scratching against his shirt.

Before this could go any further, Bucky pulls away and asks, “My room?”

And you smile, “Fuck yeah.”

[rezzyromance]

Imagine reader having a bad day. She just rants and raves and doesn’t shut the hell up.

Karl is busy trying to work and reader is starting to get on his nerves because he can’t concentrate (while finding her rants low-key cute).

In a moment of madness + frustration, he pushes back his chair, storms over to her and kisses her. He’ll say he did it to shut you up but the really he’s been wanting to do that for a long time.

Need me a guy like this.

You had been ranting for who knows how long. Today, it felt like everything that could possibly go wrong went wrong. And, sadly, the only person who was available for you to vent to was Karl. Beloved Karl. It wasn't often he let you interrupt his work so you can talk, let alone complain about things he found rather silly. He felt bad for you due to the frustrated state you were in which is why he agreed in the first place. Now, he's barely gotten any work done as you both sat in his office space.

"And then, this lady at the village looked at me weird. She just kept staring and she scrunched her nose at me as if she was looking at something revolting!", you had been pacing back in forth during the whole rant. Karl was trying to draw out some blueprints, but seeing you pace around back and forth in the corner of his eye kept interrupting. It wasn't as distracting as your words though. You were so flustered and aggravated. While he was growing aggravated as well, he began to find your anger cute.

"And guess what? When I went to the Duke today, HE DIDN'T HAVE WHAT I WAS LOOKING FOR! CAN YOU BEIEVE IT?", you threw your arms up in disbelief. "Nope.", he responds with a sigh as he made a tiny adjustment to his barely progressed work. "I was looking for some specific berries. Luckily, the book Donna gave me about the local wildlife said I could find them on bushes. I found the bushes, but there weren't any berries! They're out of season!", you continued to complain, not even checking to see if he was a actively listening. You just kept on until it was all finally of your chest.

"And after that, I tried to fix that chair with the broken leg in the bedroom, and I broke it more! How did I even do that!?', your pacing began to pick up speed. "No clue.", he says bluntly. The pencil he was holding in his hand was about to snap under the pressure he was gripping it with. His other hand was place on his head, propping it up as he rested his elbow on his desk with a growing pissed expression.

"And one of the lycans had a bad cut, so I tried to give it some bandages and the damn thing nearly bit my hand off! I thought you trained those things!", the image of you trying to help an injured lycan and failing drifted around in his head. It was almost as funny as it was distracting. He was fighting a smile that was creeping up on his face. While he found your efforts to help the creature cute, he was still frustrated that his time was seemingly being wasted.

He sat up straight and took a good hard look at the blueprint in front of him. The first picture was barely sketched out. It was covered in eraser shavings from the amount of times he messed up. And, upon further inspection, he could see where he was writing a description for something and accidentally began to write down things that you were saying as he struggled to multitask. The sight of this made his brow furrow and his jaw clench. All of his efforts for his work for the past unknown amount of time were useless.

"And Donna invited me to another tea party, but I can't deal with Angie. I mean I know Donna loves her, but that piece of plastic is fucking nuts and it makes me so uncomfortable.", you continued to rant about the doll. He didn't know if he wanted to correct you and tell you that she's porcelain and not plastic. All he knew is how much he missed the silence of his office now. Although, there was something about you running around in circles while wildly throwing your hands up in frustrated fits of rage that he found adorable.

Finally, he knew he had enough. He knew he had to do something if he wanted to finish his work. He sighed and put down the pencil he was using to draw out some blueprints. He looks over, preparing to tell you to shut up, but he couldn't help but get distracted. You were talking with your hands. And, you kept running your hands through your hair, making messier and messier as your pointless ranting went on and on.

He didn't even notice he was staring until you made eye contact with him and stopped. 'Are you listening to me?" "Yes.", he lies. And with that, your pacing continues as you spout more and more bullshit. His feelings confused him. You were keeping him from being productive and nothing you were upset about had any real long term meaning, but you just looked so cute when you're all riled up. His work laid on his desk, practically screaming to be finished.

"Oh right...", he turned back to his work in hopes to finish it. "And Alcina said I need to think more about what I wear because I care more about how comfortable my clothes are compared to how they look. Isn't that just bitchy?" "Mhm." The mentioning of her caused his eyes to roll. "Please just stop please just stop please just stop please just stop", repeated through his head as he wished for peace and quiet. He accidentally broke his pencil in his tense and clutched hands.

Finally, he had had enough. He threw the broken pencil pieces to the ground and stood up, shoving his chair to the side before marching over towards you. You didn't even notice until his fingers were tangled in your hair, turning your face towards his. He then pulls you into a kiss that lasts a couple of seconds. Enough for him to release some of his energy in a not so aggressive way while also getting you to be quiet for a bit.

You were speechless when he pulled away and he was thankful. "What was that for?', you ask as you smile and grab him by the coat sleeve, tugging on it. He pulls it out of your grasp, but not too aggressively. "Just wanted to shut you up for a goddamn second." "Oh yeah? Well what if I keep talking?" A mischievous smile spreads on your face as he looks back at you with a growing frustrated expression, but you could spot a small smile curling upwards from the corners of his mouth. "Nope.", he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, carrying you out the door. Once you're out the door, he puts you down. "Don't interrupt my works again. And, for the love of god, stop caring so much about what other people think. " You open your mouth to object to his decision on kicking you out, but he kisses you again. This time, you can feel him smile into it. He truly just wanted to kiss you again. "Now, leave me alone for a second. When I'm finished, you can tell me about all the other pointless bullshit from your day." And with that, he closes the door. While having you away is less distracting, he still can't help but think of you as he works, the taste of you still lingering on his lips. "Better get this done fast."

[witchy-jadda]

rott spoilers ahead

so i’ve given myself some time to think about everything and try to process it all and here are some of my thoughts on trollhunters: rise of the titans...

- straight off the bat, i loved the intro. opening with blinky telling the story of what happened up until this point was incredible. i would have loved if they had circled back to this though (i saw someone else say it should have been him telling the story to jim and claire’s kids and i loved that idea!)

- i also liked that they didn’t waste time at the start, instead they just jumped right into the action which was fun.

- honestly, i thought jim’s plotline throughout the movie where he basically thought he was useless without the amulet was just really not fun to watch. i understand why it was there and it played into the climax but i really did not find it one bit necessary seeing as i felt that we have grown beyond that. i felt it was overused. we’ve been there before and jim is aware that he’s the trollhunter, amulet or not.

- douxie being so soft with nari was genuinely one of the most heartwarming parts of the movie. i feel that we were really robbed of so much potential with douxie in this movie though. we didn’t see nearly enough of him. it seemed that the writers were picking and choosing when to remember how powerful he is. switching with nari and connecting to her are two examples of when they actually used his power, but aside from that they just disregarded it a lot.

- and speaking of forgetting how powerful people are... i’m genuinely so hurt and let down over what they did to claire. do they not realise how powerful she is? did they just forget about her character arc? it sure felt like it. she got to use her powers a few times (connecting to nari, portalling the titan, etc) but mostly it felt like she was saying she was spent and therefore unable to do anything. she is so strong and so powerful, and that’s just so empowering - especially for young girls. and then it kinda felt to me that rott was reducing her to basically nothing more than jim’s love interest.

- okay another quick note, it kinda felt to me that krel’s potential was also pretty wasted? he barely did anything and i just think he deserved more too.

- ew okay i don’t even want to think about it but i know i can’t discuss rott without talking about the mpreg thing. seriously, what the fuck was that? at first, i thought it was going to be a joke. i thought aja and krel were gonna wind steve up and see how far they could go with making him think he was pregnant just for a little bit of comic relief. but then he was actually pregnant. and so i laughed, because even though it was dumb it was kind of funny. weird and unexpected, but kind of funny. but by the time the movie was over it just didn’t sit right with me. looking past the fact that it was just more of them making steve’s character into a joke, i couldn’t see the logic in giving so much time to that subplot when other characters (claire, douxie) and other relationships (claire and douxie’s friendship) were sidelined. maybe if he had gotten a whole season the mpreg thing could have been included as comic relief or whatever, but with such limited time i really don’t see the point of wasting so much time on something so pointless. 

- speaking of steve, i need to talk about creepslayerz... they really deserved more :( like i get that eli literally helped steve through child birth and then named one after him which was lowkey adorable but i loved their friendship so much and i was really hoping to see more of them. i was kind of hoping they’d get to do more as well. look i gave up on hopes of a romance long ago (even though i still really wished it would happen) but i hoped that at least we’d see some more of their friendship.

* by this point my brain has decided to forget absolutely every point i wanted to make... cue the brain fog (we don’t like her) and allow me to take a moment to read back and try to find my point again *

- i don’t think i can stress enough how much i loved the visuals in this movie. holy fucking shit it was just phenomenal. like wow. the art was absolutely fantastic and i’m really hoping for another the art of... book because i love the art of trollhunters and i feel that they could do with updating it to include the newer stuff. but yep, the animation quality was incredible and i don’t have a bad thing to say about it because just wow.

- speaking of art... a moment of appreciation for character designs. just wow wow wow. we love to see such intricately designed villains. we love to see growth in our other much loved characters. and the locations too? fantastic. beautiful. amazing. loved it.

- another moment of appreciation for jim. the hair. the scars. the injuries. the winter jacket. the fact that he looked a little older.... loved it. loved it, loved it, loved it. i cannot wait to spend hours pouring over reference pictures to draw them all.

- and claire... her armor being weathered and worn. her eyes!! her hair looked great as always. i just love her...

- nari nari nari... my goodness, her magic is so beautiful. i wish we got to see more.

- also, the jlaire moments were very cute. their kisses? so soft. they literally love each other so much. i adore them.

- what happened to the babies from the darklands btw? is not enrique just chilling in the lake’s house with a ton of babies? 

- barbara deserved better. i would have liked to see her and strickler happy.

- on that note, why the actual fuck did they think a few explosives would win against magic?? literal ancient magic and these dumbasses were like huh i guess we should blow it up. i’m sorry, what?? y’all are stupid.

* currently trying to think of every possible point that isn’t to do with the ending because i really don’t want to think about that yet *

- the whole thing with archie and charlemagne felt super unnecessary. like usually characters sacrifice themselves and it’s like sad and you can see the reasoning and stuff. but they literally could have gotten out. i really did not vibe with that. it felt like they just did that to leave douxie with no one.

- that trollmarket was beautiful though.

- speaking of trollmarket... they really restored the heartstone just like that? are you joking? i was not impressed at all. the heartstone was dead and gone, could not be destroyed. did they just forget that? half the shit in wizards wouldn’t have happened if the heartstone could have been restored. very pissed off by that. it was dead, that was it.

- okay back to jim... love that he pulled the sword from the stone. it was cute that it was a group effort, kinda would have preferred if it was just him but that’s just a me thing. and maybe me and my daylight tattoo are biased here, but excalibur is not half as pretty as daylight.

- not gonna lie, jim yelling come on trollhunters! kinda got me. i was very emotional watching this.

- i think the most in character jim moment of the whole movie was when he dropped excalibur, he didn’t have his armor, he was all alone and he decided to make a fist and fight the wizard/god with literally no weapon or means of defence. i don’t think y’all understand how much i love this dumb self sacrificing selfless boy. i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, he is literally one of my most favourite characters of all time. i love him with all my heart.

- the armor!! wow wow wow. that was a fucking cool scene. beautiful.

- jim getting stabbed or whatever with that fucking spear thing nearly killed me.

- okay here goes... toby. my sweet toby. jim and toby’s friendship is one of my absolute favourites ever. my goodness. and toby getting in the van and going to save jim was incredible and such a toby thing to do. of course he would think of doing that.

- but like seriously... claire and douxie are so fucking powerful and they were both just like lol i guess we can’t do anything to help jim? i’m sorry what?? don’t tell me that claire wouldn’t go full on black and purple eyes and get herself up their to him. i just... i’m so bothered by the fact that they were sidelined y’all :|

- also, do not seriously try to tell me that aaarrrgghh!!! would let toby go on his own. he would have went with him. he would have followed him.

- literally as jim was falling the first thing that went through my mind was oh aaarrrgghh!!! is gonna run up and catch him.

- and while we’re on the topic of aaarrrgghh!!! why tf did they have such a build up that something was going to happen to either him or blinky for literally no reason? wtf

- aaarrrgghh!!! would not have let toby go alone!!! if he had been there, he would have protected toby, he would have saved him and none of that mess of an ending would have happened.

* ugh here’s the bit i was dreading... the ending *

- first off, i am choosing to ignore it.

- time stone? really? we’re... we’re gonna do this? literally one of the most original things i have ever watched is now - at the literal last possible minute - rip off another movie?? really?? whyyyy???

- i literally cannot express how much i hated it. it was so fucking unnecessary.

- he didn’t need to go back that far!!!

- i’m actually trying to block this out but i suppose i have to at least touch on it. jim would never ever put that burden on to toby. he just wouldn’t. before even looking at all of the other issues with toby getting the amulet, i need to say that. it just wouldn’t happen. he struggled so much with being the trollhunter, he wouldn’t put that on toby. 

- also toby literally never wanted to be the trollhunter?? he never wanted the amulet? he wanted to be a duke and have his war hammer and go on adventures with his best friend and his wingman and eat mexican food.

- okay so um i guess they all just forgot about unbecoming? cool cool cool.

- seriously though, was it not established many times that jim literally had to be trollhunter? and if he wasn’t it would be draal and everything would go to shit? did they just forget about that??

- having jim just decide to give toby the amulet literally takes away from the entire meaning behind jim getting the amulet and becoming the trollhunter. the amulet chose jim. merlin chose him. out of all of the creatures in the world, it had to be jim. he can’t just give that to toby!!

- and as much as i love toby, he would not last a day as trollhunter.

- and that’s not even beginning to mention all that jim erased by not becoming trollhunter. no father son relationship between him and blinky. they didn’t stop steve from picking on eli so no steve redemption and no creepslayerz. is he just going to allow enrique to be taken? toby will not have the same incentive to go into the darklands to save him if that’s the case. strickler will not show any sort of sentiment towards toby either. and then the big one...

- IS THAT FUCKER REALLY GOING TO ALLOW CLAIRE TO NOT GET HER POWERS??? WHAT???

- if jim isn’t trollhunter and the whole thing with enrique doesn’t happen then claire will never get her shadowstaff. let’s be real, strickler probably wouldn’t even need angor rot with toby as trollhunter. somehow i can’t see him making it that far...

- if claire doesn’t have her shadow staff then the whole thing with morgana won’t happen. she won’t destroy the shadow staff and then she will never develop her powers. would jim really rob her of that?

- okay i can’t do anymore, it’s too much for me now...

- i touched on this already in a separate post but i gotta say it again... i did not enjoy the destiny is a gift bit at the end. first of all, jim having toby find the amulet literally takes the meaning of that speech and his destiny away instanty. and second, i just could not stand hearing emile hirsch say the words that belonged to anton yelchin. it was just uncomfortable.

aaand i think i’m done. maybe i’ll have more later but i have a headache now from all of this.

[ac3id]

Plaything | 18+

plaything 0/ ?? | part 1

pairings: yandere! bully bakugou katsuki x fem! reader

warnings: [series] blackmail, bullying, dubcon/ noncon, filming w/o consent, yandere themes, no quirks au. ALL CHARACTERS ARE ABOVE 18 YEARS OF AGE.

↪ for chapter 0: dubcon, blackmail, humiliation.

summary: by luck, you get enrolled into u.a high the best school in your town. the only catch is that the school is filled with rich, spoilt, and powerful brats who just seem to hate you, and among them, a certain red-eyed blonde dreads you the most

↪ for chapter 0: you reject bakugou’s proposal to fuck in the dirty boys' washroom so he teaches you a lesson.

— navigation

wordcount. 2k+

a/n: hello !! so this is like a little introduction to my yandere! bully! bakugou series fic. there’s also going to a lot of other bnha character mentions but the main pairing will be w/ baku n reader. enjoy!

“bakugou, i don’t want to do this,” your voice is weak as you bite on your lower lip, trying to stop sinful moans from leaking out of your mouth. bakugo has you bent over the cold and wet sink counter, your chest pressed against the dirty marble while your skirt is flipped over your displaying your bare, perky round ass to his stalking eyes. “who are you calling bakugo?” he spanks your ass with force, making you lose your footing as your head bumps lightly against the mirror.

“sorry, master,” you answer barely above a whisper but it’s loud enough in the empty washroom for him to hear yet he makes you repeat yourself,

“what was that, brat? i couldn’t fucking hear you.” he spanks you again, his heavy hand coming in contact with your soft ass with ferocity sending you flying off your feet.

“i am sorry, master!” you exclaim a little loudly, hoping it would satisfy him. and it does. he scoffs crudely, ghosting his fingers over your pussy lips before dipping his large fingers between them and petting your dry hole. he plays with your cunt, stroking his fingers lovingly over your little pearl, gathering wetness as he slips one finger into your hole. pumping them in and out at a slow pace. he takes his time, building up your orgasm while laughing wickedly as you try to hold in your moans. his fingers inside your cunt increase their pace as your juices start dripping down to your thighs,

“you said you don’t want this?” while his right hand destroys your cunt, his other hand wraps around your small neck. grasping it lightly, making it harder for you to breathe. “why are you dripping everywhere like a slut? hm?”

he had pulled you aside from regular classes, declaring them boring as fuck and that he wanted to do something much better like; fucking you in the boys' washroom. you denied, you told him no. you wanted to attend the lesson and besides skipping with him wouldn’t be any good to you. he was not kind to you, he was a meanie. he still insisted; telling you it’s fine, he knows the material. he can just tutor you later. no harm done, see? see?

if there was anything you hated more than being stuck in the prestigious u.a. high where everyone seemed to be out for your blood was spending time with bakugo katsuki. and being with him alone was another nightmare. he hated you. you didn’t know why, he’d never say why. you just assumed it was because of that one time you accidentally spilled coffee on him or maybe it was just because you breathed. honestly, both seemed favorable in this situation.

after many failed attempts of convincing you to come with him, he gets fed up. he pulls out his phone and shoves it into your face. his screen displays pictures of you which he had taken before and the ones which you had sent him. they are all lewd shots. pictures of you sucking him off while looking into the camera with glassy eyes illuminated the screen and as you swiped right it changed to another with the same background, lighting, and angle but the only difference being that your face was now covered with his seed while you posed for the camera with an innocent smile.

a look deeper into his gallery and you find your nudes which bakugo had forced you to take. it was necessary for you to be naked with your tits and ass being visible, he also wanted to see your face and would never settle for anything else. he never settles for anything without your face in it, makes you take those shots again and again until he’s satisfied with the results. he saves them, all of them. even the ‘bad ones' have been screenshotted and saved onto his phone for his personal use. he never tells what he uses them for but you don’t need to hear it from him. you already know he’s jerking off to each one of them every night before he goes to sleep.

it’s funny, anyone could take a look at those pictures and find out they are not photos exchanged between lovers. your expressions- no matter how hard you try, you always end up looking like you want to cry. there’s fear in your eyes and it just doesn’t feel authentic. it looks forced. like someone had put a gun to your head while you sat and took them. and well, that’s not a far-fetched idea.

he promises these are for his eyes only, “no one else gets to you like this. you are mine.” his words exactly but when his friends also start staring at you with lust-ridden eyes, you can’t help but question his words.

he blackmails you into coming with him. threatening he’d leak those pictures all around the school if you didn’t come with him as if he hadn’t already. as if your compromising photos weren’t already saved in all of your classmates’ phones anyway. bakugo should give himself a pat on the back, he’s such a great actor!

“for someone who doesn’t want this,” his demeaning, rude voice pulls you back from the dreamland you were trying to escape to. he forces you nearer to your edge, tiny whimpers leave your lips accompanied with loud moans as his fingers brush deliciously against your sweet spot. your precious cunt greedily pulls him in deeper and deeper, inviting him graciously into your womb but unfortunately, his fingers aren’t that long. but you know what is?

“you sure are dripping like a whore.” with every whimper which leaves your supple lips, bakugo feels himself get harder. his pants tighten as a bulge starts straining against his expensive, pleated bottoms. the hand prettily choking your neck detaches itself leaving you inhaling puffs of air as he works his pants off his hips. as you hear the rattling of his belt coming undone, a loud cry enough to draw attention from others outside of the room leaves your throat.

it catches bakugo off guard but nonetheless helps him get even harder, he likes to make you cry and get off to it. “why are you crying, bitch? it’s not doing you any favors here.” his fingers rub against your swollen, little pearl while lining up his fat cock to your blinking hole. “please, bakugo, don’t. i will do anything, anything else. just not this, i’ve never done this before.” you sound pathetic. your voice breaking with every word you utter. big, fat tears rolling down your cheeks while you ugly cried. bakugo almost feels sorry.

but in all honesty, he really couldn't care less about you. all your whining and crying only incite him further as ruthless ideas to break you down flood his mind. the kindest so far being him taking you right here and now but, but a sudden flash of seeing you utterly broken and in misery flashed before his eyes and he couldn’t let go of it. he wanted to see you tremble much more than you were right now. he wanted to see you cry much more than you were crying right now. Maybe he did hate you, he always pushed you around like you were his little pet of some sort to prove a point- that he is better than you. he is superior, you must respect him. you should kiss the ground he walks on, you should let yourself be his little plaything. then maybe, he’ll let you loose? who knows, he might just get even more obsessed.

as he watches you cry beneath him, your pathetic whimpers reverberating off the marble walls, a wicked idea pops into his head. he pulls his dick away from your exposed hole instead, replacing it with his fingers like before. “fine, brat.” his voice is softer, it surprises you. was he not going to rape you after all? “just because you said anything.” there it is again, the edge in his voice that makes you regret what you said. now, you know he has something worse planned for you. but it’s too late, you can’t go against your word now. you said anything, get ready to do anything. “stop squirming, i’m trying to make you cum. god knows whether you can even do that for yourself.” you most definitely can.

"a bitch like you needs someone to do everything for her.” again, you are probably the most independent student in the whole school,

“am I right, princess?” you are so wrong. “yes, master.”

no matter how crude and humiliating his words were and how much you hated his voice, you still found yourself clenching around his fingers almost ripping them off. your cunt squeezed his digits tightly as the coil building in your stomach tightened. moans of his name echoed all over the room as you felt yourself come closer. bakugo was taking his time playing with you, drawing you out making your release painfully slow as a form of revenge. you begged for him to play with your little clit so you could achieve ecstasy but he was too petty. after minutes of agonizing you to the point, there were tears streaming down your face and drool escaping your lips, falling onto the wet counter. he finally decided to flick his finger against your hardened bud. rubbing tight circles, he played with it aimlessly until he felt the gush of wetness around his fingers and the high-pitched scream which left your mouth as you came. his other hand pumped his still-hard cock. he was still pissed that he wouldn’t be able to cum inside you but it was fine for now. he had something much brutal set up in his mind for his plaything, he was aware that what he was planning might completely destroy but he figured it was worth it. much better to have a mindless slave who lives to fulfill her master’s wishes anyway.

he lets go of you, backing away with his hard cock still out and aching for relief. the huge head blushed red and leaking with pre, too bad he won’t get to finish inside of you yet. you quickly walk away from him, bending forward to search for your discarded panties. bakugo grunts at the sight of your wet pussy presenting itself to him, riling him up even more than he already was. He wastes no time pumping his cock at the sight of your exposed bottom, gasp and groans of pleasure escaping his lips,

“oi, what the fuck are you doing?” he asks, catching you sliding your panties on your legs. you turn around to face him, face burning when you are met with him stroking his cock at your movements. your eyes almost can’t leave the sight of his leaking cock, hard and begging to be played with and as much as you to admit it; it lights a fire inside you.

“stop fucking staring, you’re making it worse,” he growls and you immediately turn your eyes to his face. he smirks, “what? do you want it now? too bad, it’s too late,” he taunts. his eyes trail your body, eyebrows furrowing when he looks down your legs. “who told you to wear them,” he points at your panties between your legs. you give him a confused look, “you’re not allowed to put them on. give them to me,” he commands and panic crosses your eyes. you hesitate for a moment, debating whether you should listen to him or not. his fists clench as he glares at you, sending shivers down your spine, “what are looking at! give!” he speaks louder this time in a demanding tone as if he was scolding a little child who had picked up something from his office. your fingers tremble as you reach out to give the pink fabric to him, “leave.” what? you look at him in confusion. your big, doe eyes racking fear and anxiety. you wait for him to laugh or make a sarcastic remark about how gullible you are but it never comes. instead, he wraps your cotton panties around his cock, right in front of you, and begins jerking himself off. you are disgusted and petrified by his shameless actions, “what are you standing here for? leave. remember you said anything?” yeah, so you did. and you regret it already.

your legs tremble as you walk towards the door, pushing it open and peaking your head to check for people in the hallway. once you find it empty you walk out to the outside before sparing one last glance inside the dirty washroom. you hope for bakugo to call out to you, call you back but all you see is him cumming thick ropes into your panties while his eyes are screwed shut in ecstasy. yeah, you weren’t getting those back.

with shame and defeat written all over your face, you make your back to your classroom. your face is heated with embarrassment and humiliation as you remember you are walking around practically naked just an accident away from flashing yourself to anyone who cares to see. for the better half of the day, you walk around tugging your skirt as low as it can get. you don’t see bakugo for the rest of the day as he leaves you alone but when you do catch his eyes for a second or two, the wicked grin stretching over his features is hard to miss. He knows exactly what he is doing.

just as the day is about to end, he walks behind you squeezing your bare ass from under your skirt managing a surprised shriek from you when you feel his warm palms caress your ass pervertedly, “cute.” he whispers in your ear before turning you around and pinning you the wall. his fingers slide up your thighs moving closer to your cunt. warm digits graze over your slit earning a gasp from you, “come over, I will tutor you on the subjects you missed.” he kisses your neck, “come just like this.” he spanks your ass lightly before he leaves you be. his words are absolute and you know better than to disobey him, all of this was happening because you disobeyed him. you gather your things and walk up to his dorm room dressed just as you were before: in your school shirt, blazer, skirt, and no panties just as he wants it. when you arrive in his room you are met with his entire friend group sitting there with their books and pencils out. kaminari, kirishima and sero are not as surprised to see you as you are to see them. they greet you with happy faces which you return with a light smile.

“hey,” bakugo says with a smirk, guiding you to sit between sero and kirishima. between them the two humongous men, you feel like a child. with kirishima being tall and muscular and Sero being tall, lean and surprisingly packing a few too, makes you feel like a dwarf. you feel small and tiny in their presence and they very much notice it, sending knowing looks to one another while bakugo tries to tutor you. you know something’s up.

not a lot of studying takes place as kirishima grows impatient and slides his hand under your skirt and settles it over your cunt, rubbing his fingers on your pussy lips, occasionally pressing them on your clit. sero flips your skirt displaying your naked cunt to peering eyes. kaminari whistles, “wow, she really wasn’t wearing anything the entire day,” he comments. with one hand, Kirishima captures your wrists behind your back and pushes you on his lap. sero holds your legs to prevent you from squirming around like a dead fish, trying to break free. “so who goes first?” kaminari asks, walking over to you and crouching at your level. kirishima holds tightly with him seated on bakugo’s bed, kaminari flashes you a charming smile before his fingers run to unbutton your t-shirt, pulling your tits out of your bra. he tugs on one of your nipples while kishima’s large digits tugs on another.

“obviously me, dumbass.” bakugo barks coming closer to you. tears prick at your eyes as you beg him to stop, you tell him you’re sorry and that you will never disobey him ever again but he’s too far gone. the other men in the room might feel a little shitty about what they were going to do but there is no remorse in bakugo’s eyes. he looks at you like a predator looks at his prey, stalking about to pounce at any given second, “shut up, whore. you asked for this.” tears break loose as kirishima starts spreading your legs on command. wandering fingers rubbing at your pussy, trying to get you ready are forced to stop as bakugo declares that it must hurt for you. he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“you know you should have never said no to me right? be grateful for what’s being given to you, you’re our little plaything. a cute, little slut. you don’t get to say no,” his rough fingers grab at your jaw, prying it open as he spits in your mouth. “now just shut up and take our cocks, okay?” you cry out yes but he’s not satisfied. His hand strikes against your face, your cheek stings with burning hot pain as more tears leak out of your eyes. grabbing your face harshly, he lifts it up so you’re facing him, “okay?” he repeats. you calm your breath before answering him, fear and anxiety fucking you up in dread for what’s to come.

“yes, master,” you say in the most submissive voice you make out.

[lothlaer]

Proposal: Jaskier's got a fist clenched painfully hard one time when he's really really hurt and Yen has to force his palm open so she can tangle their fingers together and try to keep him from hurting his own hand. And they're both kind of like "oh" at some point idk 😳

Anon this apparently awakened something in me, so thank you for expanding on my post and giving me the inspo to write (checks notes) 1.7k. Hope you enjoy whatever this is!!! 

Pre-yennskier, description of blood and injury, 100% hurt/comfort. Read on AO3

“Stop fucking moving,” Geralt hisses, pushing down hard on the hips beneath his hands to still the man’s squirming.

A choked off, muffled whine dies in Jaskier’s throat, his lips pursed tight enough to turn them pale and thin. He’s panting through his nose, clearly in agony, and too out of it to understand that moving will only make this worse.

Yennefer spares the witcher a glance, noting the anxiety and fear that’s obvious on his face, in the tension across his brow, the frantic not-focus of his eyes that flick between the bard’s half-delirious expression and the gaping wound at his side.

She’s done all she can to heal him, sealed up the torn and leaking insides that they all know would have killed him if they hadn’t been here – that still might kill him if they can’t stem the blood loss and prevent infection. She thinks of it like this; clinical, sensible, because she has to.

Jaskier’s heartbeat is quicker than it should be, his breathing equally fast, panicked and pained and shallow. She keeps her ear trained to its frantic rhythm, notices how Geralt’s heart thumps faster than normal too, almost human, almost matching hers. She’d laugh at the symmetry of it all, if it were funny. She’s sure Jaskier would write a poem, if he knew, but she won’t ever tell him. 

He stills a little under the pressure of Geralt’s hands, though still struggles. He probably can’t help it by this point, too confused and the pain too intense to allow much rational thought. Geralt can’t work if he keeps kicking, shifting his hips to try to escape the discomfort.

“Yen,” Geralt growls, and she’d tell him off if she thought it would help.

She tells him off anyway, growling his name back as she presses her weight onto the bard’s chest, keeping him pinned. She watches his face, stares at the lines of tears down his temples, wrung out from his scrunched eyes.

The tight seam of Jaskier’s lips splits open, a deep groan and hitching sob forcing its way out as Geralt flushes the wound. He shifts again, and it’s only then that Yennefer notices his hands. The one nearest her grips at her skirt, tugging it towards himself, the other clenched tight enough at his side that the whites of his knuckles stand out even against his bloodless skin.

She reaches for it before she can think about it, dragging his hand over his chest, looking at the way he’s digging his nails into the meat of his palm.

Yennefer doesn’t say anything as she fits her thumb under his, prying it open like the hinge on a rusted box. There’s no treasure within as she does the same with his fingers, forcing them loose enough that his reflex to clench releases, each digit unfolding only to reveal deep indents in his skin like faint purple mouths.

She slips her fingers between his, taking the pressure into her own grip, resting their joined hands over his heart.

He blinks up at her, eyes wet with tears, then lifts his head to look down at himself.

“Don’t look,” Yennefer snaps, pointedly leaning forward to block the vivid red of Geralt’s hands from view.

She knocks her knuckles against his breastbone, drawing his attention back, and he focuses in on the press of their skin together.

She thinks that if he had enough blood left in his body to do so, Jaskier would be blushing. She feels heat rise in her own cheeks in sympathy. His lips part on an inappropriately dreamy sigh, and she realises she’s stroking her thumb back and forth over his clammy skin, then swiftly stops.

Yennefer checks his expression and discovers his eyes on her again, a long moment dragging on as she finds herself unable to look away, their faces closer than she realised and his short breaths puffing against her skin. She’s horribly aware of their entwined hands, the unpleasant sensation of drying blood and mud between them, the frantic heart mere centimetres away, trapped beneath only by fragile human flesh and bone.

Between another aborted cry of pain and a feeble attempt at another kick, Jaskier lets his head fall back to the ground, gaze swimming and dizzy as he stares up at the canopy of the trees above them, his grip tightening to the point of pain as the joints in Yennefer’s hand compress.

She loses track of time for a while, her knees and back aching from being folded over for so long, the quiet and sometimes unpleasant noises coming from Geralt working opposite her the only way to gauge how long they’ve been here, alongside the warbling beat that still echoes against her eardrums. It’s not like his usual music.

She looks back to his face after some time, catches his eyelids fluttering.

“None of that,” she scolds, loud enough to jerk him back into wakefulness.

She turns her head to look at the wound, relieved to find it closed with stitches, no longer sluggishly leaking blood down Jaskier’s side. He’s still covered in it, soaked into his shirt and the trousers covering his propped-up legs, even on the blanket they’ve thrown over him.

Geralt looks up and the relief is clear on his face; they’re not out of the woods yet, but it’s a step in the right direction. His eyes flick to Jaskier’s hand in hers, looking pointedly at where he’s still gripping her dress too, then walking away with a mutter about getting bandages.

Yennefer finds herself alarmingly embarrassed, and withdraws her hand.

Jaskier doesn’t complain, his fingers falling loose and curled where she leaves them.

Geralt returns quickly, begins packing the injury. Jaskier jerks again, then they begin the agonising process of winding bandages around his waist, having to manoeuvre him upright enough to pass them under his back.

By the end he’s even sweatier and paler than he was before. His noises of pain throughout have been quieter than Yennefer was expecting, the usual volume and raucousness of his voice muffled and contained. It’s simultaneously impressive and irritating – men, she thinks.

He groans long and low nonetheless as they shift him sideways onto a bedroll and prop another bag under his knees.

“It’s done, it’s over,” Yennefer finds herself saying quietly while Geralt resituates the blanket.

She wipes a tear away from Jaskier’s cheek with the backs of her fingers, and tries not to overthink the action in the seconds afterwards as his sobs subside.

He’s trembling, either from pain or shock or the cold, and Geralt wastes no time getting him water with some herbs mixed in. He drinks greedily, water spilling out around his mouth until the witcher urges him to slow.

Geralt lays him back down, calls his name softly until his wobbly attention wanders back to them.

“All better?” Jaskier murmurs after a moment, eyelids already half-mast.

Geralt lays a wet cloth over the bard’s forehead and holds his palm on it, steady and reassuring, long enough to lean over and catch Jaskier’s gaze.

“Good enough,” he says, beginning to wipe away the sweat and dirt from Jaskier’s face in gentle strokes.

“Bastard,” Jaskier mutters, eyes falling closed. He only settles for a moment before jerking awake, his eyes wide and alarmed. “Yen?”

He looks around blearily, waving an uncoordinated hand out – seeking her presence, Yennefer realises. She reaches for him, grasping his hand in hers. His gaze snaps to her, and softens.

“Okay?” he asks.

His skin is cool, his heart still racing.

“You’ll be pissing us off with your usual obnoxious poetics within a day, I imagine.”

He frowns at her and shakes his head almost imperceptibly.

“No,” he swallows dryly, “you okay?”

Yennefer opens her mouth, ready for a witty retort to manifest, but all that emerges is the escape of a surprised breath. She thinks of the way they’d been standing side by side when the attack had happened, the way the bard had fallen against her and brought her to her knees in the grass and mud, last autumn’s shed of rotting leaves compacting beneath her hands. The drip of red blending against the dirt. Her stomach twists, then releases.

“Rest, Jaskier.”

He still stares at her.

“I’m fine, you fool.” She squeezes his hand again, thinks of the indents on his palm. “Rest.”

He does, finally, slipping easily into something deeper than sleep. She knows she and Geralt will have their senses fixed on the pump of his blood for days yet, and that it’ll be a while before his body replenishes what he’s lost.

For now, the steadiness of his pulse and his breathing will have to be enough, even if they remain unnatural and fast.

Yennefer realises she’s been staring for a while when she notices Geralt bringing a bowl over, his hands and arms already washed clean of the mess from the past hour.

“Wonderful timing,” he says dryly, shaking the red-tinged water off his fingers with a couple of quick flicks.

“For what, witcher?” Yennefer says shortly, her nerves strung thin and dangerous.

Geralt snorts. Yennefer glares.

“For a realisation.” He smirks at her, smug.

“Fuck off,” she spits, not turning away quick enough to miss the way the man’s smile widens further.

She draws her hands away from Jaskier, his grip limp now, and washes her hands too, surprised to see the ripples on the surface from where she’s shaking. Geralt comes up behind her, his hand falling to her shoulder, and they both look down at the bard. The porcelain tinge of his skin is unnerving, his eyes bruised, and dirt and leaves still cling to his hair. But he’s alive, alive, and the knots in their chests release.

She thinks about leaving now her job’s done, the unpleasant warmth blooming somewhere in her gut making her want to run away, to flee from whatever the bard’s pain and gaze and hands have triggered in her, the feeling snapping sharp like a wire under her skin.

Geralt squeezes her shoulder.

“Stay with him.”

Yennefer feels the words rumble through her, less than an order but more than a suggestion. Her heart leans into it, giving way so carelessly to harmonise with the rhythm of his.

She stays.

[notaninterest]

Carnal *1* (A Hisoka x Reader)

[A/N]: Hello! My username says notaninterest, but feel free to call me Cece.

I'm going to be making this into a story! So I do hope you stick around for the other parts to come. This is also posted on my Wattpad if you're interested. I don't know how many chapters this is going to be but it shouldn't be too long. We'll see :)

I update weekly to biweekly depending on how my life pans out. I will let you know when you should expect the next chapter.

I think I made some mistakes with my writing about Nen so I hope that's okay. I'm not going to be completely accurate in my writing. I hope you understand.

Without further ado, I hope you enjoy this first chapter!

warnings: heavy sexual themes, smut, Hisoka being fucking hawt

The smell is the same as any other strip club. These grimy places usually never interested him, but tonight is different. It is not the same as the others. He urges for something, something not related to his bloodlust. Yes...He requires a woman. And places like these were full of them. He smiles to himself whilst taking a sip of his alcohol. Nevermind the crowd of inebriated men and some women. His yellow eyes are trained on the dancers, three different ones each accompanying their own respective poles. One of them is a brunette with an aline bob, her hands above her head wrapped around the pole and her legs crossed over the pole with her back facing towards it. She held a look of lust while she arched her back, exposing her full bare breasts further to the crowd as she spun down the pole slowly. While she played the part, her aura certainly didn't feel the part. Hisoka could sense the underlying hatred and disgust this girl has for her job and while she is good at it, she clearly doesn't enjoy it. 'Too boring. Easily manipulated. Not enough fun.' He decides, switching his gaze over to the second girl. This one has long, blue hair reaching to her waist. She confidently swirls upside on the pole, grinding against it upside down. As she reaches down lower, she does the splits midair, manipulating her lower body to face the crowd of horny alcoholics, giving them a peek as to what's beneath the lingerie. A man in the mass of bodies spits out his beer in surprise, quickly throwing money at the dancer. Hisoka rolls his eyes. It's clear as day that she's just a run of the mill slut, perfect for this specific area of expertise. She's clearly in it for it all. Sex, money, and exhibitionism. She doesn't care who watches her or who touches her. She enjoys it all the same. While sensitivity to touch was always a plus, he prefers at least some resistance to his advances. He likes 'em feisty.

The third dancer however...bingo. Her [h/c] hair is what first draws him to her significantly more than the others. The second? Well, he can't sense her aura. In fact, now that he thinks about it, he can't feel it at all. She must be using Zetsu to conceal herself from any Nen users. Little does she know that any other other highly experienced Nen users like himself can easily spot through her deception from just looking at her. Another smile upturns his lips. She will certainly entertain him for the night. He continues to watch her, noting the way her [e/c] eyes sparkle with excitement, nervousness, and some other emotions he can't place. This placates his curiosity more. "Oi, bartender." He calls one of the employees, who walks over while cleaning a glass. "What's the name of that third dancer, the one right over there?" Hisoka asks, pointing over to the mysterious woman. "Well that'd be [Y/N], the most graceful of them all." The bartender gushes, clearly having it out for the lady. "Hmm...'most graceful' you say..." He'd be the test of that one. He continues to stalk you out from the bar, sipping on his alcohol slowly. He needn't be drunk for this experience. No...He's going to enjoy this one to satisfy his more carnal cravings for a longer time. He watches you closely. You were wearing very little, definitely giving the appearance of confidence in your body. That scores high in the point system in Hisoka's head. You were currently positioned so the front of your body faced the pole, your backside facing the crowd. You bent over at the waist, grabbing the pole in front of you and bending to a 90-degree angle. Your toned ass is on clear view to the people in front of you and you slowly rotate your hips, imitating a sexual act in midair. Or, at least trying to. ‘Mmm...she's perfect.’ Hisoka dreams of the acts he'll perform on you, becoming more excited by the second. He continues to watch you, head in his left hand, his drink in the other. As soon as you finish undulating your hips, you slide up against the pole, grinding your pussy against the cold metal. A gasp leaves your lips, one that should be inaudible considering the noise and the atmosphere, but it's a noise Hisoka can hear as clear as day. It's clear that from the pitch in this noise and the way you move your body that you're not experienced in this area, which leaves him to wonder why you chose it. Maybe for the money? No...he doubted that. You didn't lurch your body around the pole as deliberately as the first dancer. There was a secret to your work that he doesn't know of. It becomes painfully more clear that you aren't experienced in any pole work at all, judging by how clumsily you slither up the pole. Your eyes struggle to convey the desire to practically fuck the pole and instead are glazed over in what seems to be a sort of nervousness. To any other everyday individual, you'd look like a professional, maybe graceful as others say. Yet, to Hisoka, he can see right through your dancing façade. Why are you doing this...he must sate his ever-growing curiosity.

As the number finishes and the dancers walk offstage, Hisoka approaches the man responsible for handing out lap dances and the like, going to put his request in nice and early. "Eh?! You request a room for the rest of the night?! S-Sir I'm afraid-" Hisoka holds up a heavy, full bag. "This here is enough jenny to last you a lifetime and even your grandkids if you spend it wisely." He smiles as he hands the packed bag over, watching as the man's eyes light up in greed. He needs this money. And Hisoka can tell. "I'm sure we can make something work. This man here will guide you to your room." The greedy man shoos over a hefty bulk of a guy, who promptly tells Hisoka to follow him. Hisoka smirks, dropping the bag of money on the slimy man's desk. "Very well. Thank you." He thanks, following the brawny dude to his assigned room.

The large man guides the magician to the room furthest down the long hallway. As Hisoka opens it, he notices it to be some sort of suite. He chuckles to himself. The other rooms were smaller. Money sure did get you good things. The strong guard before him tells him that the dancer he requested will be with him shortly before leaving, giving Hisoka some time to himself before you arrived. He investigates the big room for the time being, meticulously looking over things. There was the obvious king-sized bed, massive enough for two bodies. There's a nightstand full of condoms and lube. It has a lamp with a red shade on top of it, which Hisoka turns on. The room fills with an additional red light, making him smile. Yes...mood lighting. He's looking through the dresser across the bed when the door swings open, an angry-looking woman greeting him. He smiles at her, arms crossed behind his back. "Hello, [Y/N]-" "I don't allow any clients to touch me, much less have me for 12 hours straight!" You interrupt as you fume, glaring at the magician before you. "Must be your lucky night then." Hisoka chuckles, running his entrancing eyes over your body. Your minimal clothing was enticing to say the least, easily getting him worked up. But the air of mystery swarming around you fuels his horniness more. He needs to find out what exactly you are up to. The door suddenly closes firmly behind you, clicking locked behind the woman. You panic, trying to open the locked door handle. As predicted, it doesn't budge. "I think what you mean by not allowing anyone to touch you, you also mean you haven't even touched yourself?" Hisoka asks, beginning to walk over to you with his hands still behind his back. Your aura suddenly springs to life, surrounding your body in an instant. Hisoka smirks, continuing his approach. "St-Stand back, clown! I will not hesitate to send you flying!" You stamper, projecting your Nen in an offensive manner. "Hm..." Hisoka ponders, stopping inches away from you.

You're strong, but not nearly as strong as he is. He wonders how long you've been practicing. Must've been a few years now. You place yourself in a defensive stance, one arm angled up at a 90-degree angle and the other positioned a little below that one in the same stance, legs spread apart with one a little behind the other. Ah, yes. Every stereotypical position most fighters took when looking to fight. It looks silly with what you're wearing. And the look on your face was so hilariously serious. That's why Hisoka couldn't stop himself from laughing. He seriously tried to contain it, but the silliness of your posture combined with your facial expression absolutely cracked him up. This reaction serves to royally piss off the woman in front of him. "What?! What's so funny?!" You snap at him, clenching your hands into fists. He laughs himself to literal tears, holding his stomach with one clawed hand. "It's just...Your Nen compares next to nothing against mine, but your effort is quite adorable." The Transmuter purrs, wiping his cheek and taking a step closer to you. You look worried, taking a step away from the man. He responds by simply taking a step closer. "Wh-What do you want from me, f-freak?" You stutter nervously, finding yourself being backed into a corner. "Why, you of course." The magician licks his lips to emphasize his statement. A blush crosses your [s/c] cheeks, your eyes gleaming with fear. The look is so utterly delicious to him.

He chuckles, continuing to walk towards you. You back up until your back is literally against the wall, leaving you nowhere to go expect towards the creepy man. You breathe shakily, making your fear of him clear. "Well, let's get started...[Y/N]." Hisoka smiles, placing his hand next to your head and leaning down to touch noses with you. It's clear his height intimidates you. You swallow and swing, missing your Nen-powered punch by a longshot. He dodges, letting the attack wisp by his right star-drawn cheek. Hisoka giggles at your attempt, grabbing your outstretched hand with his free one and pinning it against the wall you were up against. You look totally helpless, fuelling his desire more. "Oh-ho-ho, trying to hit me are you now? Your attempt turns me on." He teases, fully smiling at your clear look of panic. His eyes narrow as your Nen powers up, sensing that you're up to something. He uses Gyo, centering his Ren in his eyes and watching your aura, watching as it enhances to your hidden fist behind you and to your left leg. So you're an Enhancer, hm? You were going to try to bait him with a fake punch before actually hitting him with your left leg? Okay. He feigns as if he doesn't suspect anything, allowing you to throw your fist at him before pulling back, jumping up and predictably swinging your leg at the left side of his teardrop-stained cheek. He allows the attack to land on him, his head snapping to the side with a frightening speed. Your eyes light up victoriously, but they soon dim to horror as he turns his scuffed up face back to look down at you with a smug smirk. "Any normal person would have flown away with that attack, so I must say I'm impressed. Yet, I'm not a normal man if you can't already tell. Your attacks will provide you with no protection if I haven't already predicted this. It's cute that you think you have an evenly-scored battleground with me." Hisoka chuckles, pinning you against the wall with both of your hands restrained by his at this point.

Your expressive eyes give away your anxiety of the situation, but your face remains hard with determination. The look reminds him of a certain 12-year old boy. This stirs his lust for you up further. He licks at his pale lips seductively, yellow eyes glowing into your own [e/c] ones. Your cold glare sends a spike of pleasure right to his hardened dick. He smiles wider if possible. It's becoming increasingly clear that you have no chance against him and he finds this power over you intoxicating, delicious even. "I have a question for you, [Y/N]. Sate my curiosity if you will." The clown husks, putting his mouth right next to your right ear. A bead of sweat rolls down the side of your face and you gulp nervously. "Shoot." Your icy voice fills his ears, and he gives a simple, "Hmm." at your compliance. You were going to be so much fun to break. He really chose the right contender to satisfy his needs. He snickers into your ear, his hot breath hitting the shell of it. It causes you to barely shiver. It was almost imperceptible, but not to perceptive Hisoka. He grins with this discovery, deciding not to voice it. You would soon find your body betraying you. "Pray tell what you're doing in a place like this? We both know you're not qualified for sex work, so what really brings you here, [Y/N]?" Hisoka's flirtatious voice whispers against your flesh. You noticeably tense up at the question, your hands forming into fists. Your wrists flex in his grasp. He seems to have hit a sore spot. You don't respond immediately. This moves Hisoka to press his body up against yours. Your almost completely exposed chest rubs up against his completely covered one and you gasp at his movements, clearly not expecting them. "Mmm your body feels delightful up against me dear~ Now answer the question." He lustfully whispers in your ear. You seem frozen in place, eyes wide with surprise. He decides he quite likes that expression, ingraining it into his memory. You quickly catch yourself, squirming against his body. "Let m-me go!" You stutter. Your futile attempts only rub him in all the right ways and he moans deeply, the noise hitting your right ear loudly. You gasp, your cheeks reddening with...desire? You freeze up again. He chuckles. "You feel amazing rubbing up against me like that~ Now...are you going to answer or am I going to force it out of you?~" He mumbles sensually, rubbing his lips against the flesh of your ear. You lick your lips to moisten them, your breathing correcting itself quickly.

"I'm here to collect a bounty." You simply state, watching his pale face out of the corner of your right eye. He laughs. "Liar." He growls into your ear, his hands tightening on your wrists before he throws you behind him. He listens as your delectable body bounces on the massive mattress before he turns around, predatory eyes focusing on your scared ones as you sit up on the bed. "That's the truth-" "Incorrect. I'm simply calling you out on your bullshit." Hisoka grins, beginning to approach the bed with obvious sexual intentions. You back away to the headboard of the bed, your back pressing against the splintering wood. He crawls onto the king-sized cot, stopping as soon as he looms on top of you. The look in his eyes is hungry as he looks down your body once again. He loves the position you're in. Utterly helpless. He places his hands beneath your arms, leaning down so that he's touching noses with you again. "Answer the question. Truthfully this time." He adds, smiling deviously in your flustered face. Your mouth remains shut. That's fine. It's well past time for him to immerse himself in your beautiful body. He reaches underneath you, carefully manipulating his clawed hand to the string of your toppiece. He unties it, the flimsy material of the lingerie falling away from your breasts almost instantly. You puff out a noise of embarrassment, your hands quickly coming to aid in hiding your tits from him. The magician quickly evades this method however, encircling both your wrists in his hands again and pinning them next to your head. He takes a long look at your perfect bust, practically drooling at the sight of them. He truly scored with this catch. He smiles, making eye contact with you again. He does not hide his lust from you this time. "Fine.~ I suppose I'll have to try a different method to coax an answer out of you." He punctuates this by licking his lips, moving his face over your bosom. Your eyes watch, curious as to what he'll do. You look nervous and Hisoka couldn't hold back his smirk. The nervousness only virgins hold. This'll be one hell of a lay. He almost couldn't contain his excitement.

He sticks out his tongue, running it over your left nipple before popping it into his mouth. He gives an experimental suck and watches as your body jolts beneath him. A noise akin to pleasure leaves your throat and you look embarrassed at this, closing your eyes. His smile widens and he continues to suck on your nipple, running his tongue over it at the same time. He releases your right hand when he's sure you won't move, using his free hand to massage your other boob. He kneads the flesh in his palm, squeezing the whole thing harshly. Your back arches off the bed and a groan leaves your lips, your hands squeezing as you squirm beneath him. Beautiful. The way you respond to him. You must be sensitive. He watches your face with his observate eyes, watching as your face relaxes into a sort of pleasured expression. Perfect. He pops your breast out of his mouth, replacing it with his other hand. He continues his ministrations for a few quiet moments, listening as you release more pleased noises. This heats up his body more and as a result, his own face flushes up with his desire. "So [Y/N].~ You ready to spill the beans?" Hisoka asks, squeezing both of your tits rather roughly. You pant, opening your defiant eyes to glare at him. "Never." You huff, shivering beneath him. He chuckles. "Shame.~" He continues to fondle you, this time kissing and dragging his tongue against your stomach. Your muscles tense and untense and a full fledged moan dares to leave your mouth. Sensitive you are indeed. This causes Hisoka himself to shiver, your moan music to his ears. He drags his tongue up your stomach, in between the valley of your boobs and up to your neck, where he centers his attack. He laves his tongue in the area, kissing it too. Your moans double in volume and he smiles to himself. "Dare to share, [Y/N]~?" He huskily whispers, licking up to your earlobe and nibbling it. “Ahn- N-No." You pant, trying to remain as stoic as before. You were for sure a challenge...and Hisoka loves challenges. Chuckling, he bites at the skin of your neck, enjoying your flinch in response. "Fine. Be that way." He responds, returning his attention to your tits. He massages the flesh in his clawed hands, tweaking the nipples at the same time. He pulls them, making your back arch to follow them. He leans down to your face, running his nose against your cheek before kissing it. He moves his face towards your left ear, breathing hotly against it. You freeze up before shivering in response. "Perhaps I'll have to take more...drastic measures." He whispers into your ear, his right hand releasing its grip on your left boob and hovering over the side of your hip where a tie holds up the bottom piece of your sexy outfit.

He pulls at the measly string, untying it from your hip. It loosens the fabric, yet the triangular material protecting your modesty continues to cover it. This is fine. He unties the other string, the fabric effectively falling slack against your skin. Hisoka releases all touches, focusing on your lower body now. You move to cover your most sensitive bits, but Hisoka simply smacks your hands away with force, moving back to take the covering away from you. As you yelp and rub your hands, he uses his to grab the thong, taking it away from your body. He stares at your pussy in all its glory, licking his lips. "Say...~ all this interrogating has got me famished. You don't mind if I have a little snack, right?~" His seductive voice proclaims, spreading open your thighs and settling himself in between them. Your nervous eyes alight his own dilated ones and he continues his prowl. He inhales your scent deeply, moaning. Yes, you smell absolutely scrumptious! "I will not be asking you questions from here on out. I will be demanding them. So, [Y/N]. Tell me why you're actually here." He almost snarls, his claws digging into the skin of your hips, drawing a small amount of blood. You wince, but remain strong. "No." You respond icily, acting as if you weren't intimidated. It's almost cute, but he can smell your fear. You reek of it. He chuckles. "Alright.~" He immediately dives into your pussy, licking a stripe up to your clit. You gasp, an ungodly pornographic moan leaving your throat. Hisoka groans in response to your taste, licking up what is all of you. His practiced tongue flicks against your clit and your body twists around, full-fledged, unembarrassed moans leaving your mouth as his sucks on your sensitive sex. His thumbs spread your lower lips open and he flattens his tongue, giving another harsh lick all the way up. He sucks on your hole and you keen, arching your back all the way up. "W-wait -AH- I think I'm going to cum!" You yell out those magic words, your hands grabbing at his hair. That was fast. This fuels his goal further and he eats at you with much more fervor. He slurps your pussy, eating up all you have to offer. Your moans grow more high-pitched and before the both of you know it, you're cumming into Hisoka's mouth. He sucks up all the cum you have to offer, unabashedly enjoying all of it. By the end of it, you're a panting and sweating mess, while Hisoka remains fresh. "Wonderful.~" He murmurs dirtily against you, lapping at your pussy again. You flinch, panting up a storm. You release your grip on his hair, moving your hands to wipe sweat off of your forehead. "W-Wait. I'm too sensit- OH!" You exclaim as he sucks on your clit, watching your face closely this time. Your cheeks are the reddest he's ever seen anyone's become and your eyes are dilated with desire, something he secretly hurrahs in his head. You look amazing. He watches your mouth open in a frenzied moan and shivers, continuing his attack on your pussy. As he continues, he watches you unravel before him yet again. The sight is damning to say the least. You were a gorgeous sight to gaze at and he almost couldn't let you cum a second time, getting caught up in his own desire. He begins to rub himself against the bed to ease himself, moaning into your clit. The vibrations make your toes curl and you throw your head back in a scream. He watches your face as you come undone beneath him yet again, marvelling at your orgasmic expression. That's a face he's certainly going to remember forever.

You're different from his other whores, seeing how you aren't an experienced one. Also seeing as he didn't perform these acts on his other playthings. You're...special. To him for now at least. Surely you wouldn't mean anything once he's finished with you, right? He creeps up your body once your grip on his pink hair loosens, throwing off his shirt and undergarments, exposing his ripped physique to you. Your eyes hungrily trail down the eight-pack, coming into contact with the tent in his loose pants. "I will try this one last time. Final chance. Tell me what your purpose is being here, now." His authoritative tone falls on horny ears. You shake your head, expression firm. He smiles. "Very well..." He strips off the rest of his clothing. Your eyes are trained on his hard dick, a look of panic behind them. He smiles and positions himself at your entrance, wrapping his hands on your soft hips. You seem to second guess yourself. "W-Wait--" "Too late, [Y/N]. You can't stop me from taking you now." He huskily interrupts, beginning to push into your tight pussy. You yowl, pushing your hands against his muscled abdomen. His grips tightens on your hips and despite your efforts, his cock continues to push inside of you, rendering you helpless beneath him. You gasp, shakily exhaling. Your weak arms eventually give up, falling to the sides of you in defeat. He enjoys your submission, fueling his lust for you. He pushes himself in all the way with a hard thrust, making you cry out in pain as your virginity is given to him. He sits there for a minute, relishing in his victory and at the tightness of your walls around him.

He shudders, his whole body rocking with it. It was painfully noticeable. It feels amazing to be inside of you. That's a fact he couldn't hide. "Oh [Y/N].~ You...ngh...feel marvelous.~" Hisoka moans heavily, his grip on your hips growing tighter to the point of being painful. You quietly groan beneath him, arching your back as he begins to move. He moves out and in slowly, testing the waters. You squeak, grabbling your death grip on the sheets on the bed, bunching the material up in your fists. What a sexy display. It'd be better if it was on him instead. He encourages you to grab his back by lowering his chest to touch yours, putting his face next to yours. He effectively covers your body with his own. You get the gist of what he's trying to do, raking your nails against his back as you grab at it. He shudders at the feeling of your nails digging into his skin and in response, thrusts into your tight pussy roughly. You yelp at the new sensation, throwing your head back as the pleasure surges through you. Hisoka treasures your expression of newfound enjoyment, really relishing in being the cause of it. He nips at your ear, groaning deeply when it causes your inner walls to convulse around him more. He'll use that knowledge at a later time. For now, he hotly exhales against your flesh, making you shiver against him. He sets out a slow and punishing rhythm, slowly pulling out before forcefully shoving himself back in. You cry out each time his hips meet yours, tears forming at the edge of your eyes from the intensity of his fucking. Hisoka simply smiles, deciding to speed things up a bit. He quickens his pace, smacking against your hips more frequently now. "How's it feel, [Y/N]? Tell me - mm - how my cock feels inside of you." He grunts, sitting up to gauge your reaction. Your eyes roll into the back of your head at his dirty talk and Hisoka stops, almost cumming from the expression alone. He pants, pausing for only a moment. He awaits your response while he recovers, watching as your eyes return, your dilated [e/c] eyes looking into his lustful yellow ones. You attempt to roll your hips back onto him, but you fail horribly. You did, however, manage to sink down onto the rest of him, a moan leaving your mouth from feeling so full. Hisoka giggles. "So greedy for my dick~ Tell me how it feels, [Y/N].~" He puts your leg over his shoulder, opening you up more to him. He doesn't move. Not until you choose to respond, that is.

You whine at the lack of friction, glaring up at him with that desireful expression you hold. He smiles. You relent, closing your eyes. "Y-Your cock feels amazing, Hisoka." You admit, gasping and practically screaming as he continues his fucking you from the new position he put you in. Your eyes once again roll to the back of your head from the sheer force that he's pumping into you. You're a sweaty mess while Hisoka remains good as new, the workout hardly giving him any strain. You let out a cry as one of his thumbs connects with your clit, massaging it in time with his thrusts. Hisoka moans as you tighten around him and he continues to push into you, harsher now. Your vocality rings through his ears, heating up his body more if possible. His flushed face grows darker still and he singles in on his primary focus: making you cum again. He breathes heavily, thrusting into you at a now impossibly fast pace. Your moans feed into screams, your eyes closed from the intensity of his fucking you. He continues to finger your clit, focusing on your orgasm. He wasn't even close to his, but he decides that your release is more of a spectacle than his own. He zeroes in on it, listening as your moans reach a higher octave. Then, without warning, you arch your back for the last time, crying out as you reach your peak. Your walls milk him, but he refuses to cum, just watching your face as your orgasm rips through you for the third time. He'd definitely remember that face until he's cut from this world. He pulls out of you, settling on massaging your clit a little longer as you ride out the waves of euphoria. You twitch and moan breathlessly, gasping for air from the come down. Hisoka just watches, enjoying your facial expressions. You were certainly something. He stops touching you when you come down completely, breathing harshly. Your flustered eyes open, looking at his still lust-filled ones.

"I...," You start. Hisoka listens, tilting his head in curiosity. "I was assigned here to find you, Hisoka." You pant, wiping the sweat from your forehead. Your eyes are encircled in that hard set determination yet again as you tell him this. "My orders are to dispose of you." You admit, hardening your gaze. Hisoka smiles...and it's not a nice one. "Is that so?" He chuckles, flipping you onto your stomach.

"Tell me more as you sing for me...[Y/N].~ We've still got ten hours left for you to tell me all."

_______

Word count: 5,000+

Next chapter should arrive sometime today on Saturday, May 1st. I’m so sorry for the delay ;-;

[hufflepuffhollander]

off limits: tom holland one-shot

a/n | this is my submission for @chloecreatesfictions’ 1k writing challenge! i’ve never done the “brother’s best friend” trope and i def got a little too excited and carried away! real talk, this might be the cutest thing i’ve ever written

summary | as harrison osterfield’s younger sister, you’d always just seen his best friend tom as an annoying older brother. until, one day, you didn’t.

cw | tom x osterfield!reader. contains language, alcohol, recreational use of weeeed, teenage angst, sexual tension, fluff n’ stuff. 5k words.

For as long as you could remember, Tom Holland had been a stitch in your side that you could never get rid of.

Growing up as your older brother’s best friend, he was always at your house when you were children— and his favorite pastime when Harrison was boring him was to break into your room and mess with you, stealing your toys or running his hands across the piano keys when you were trying to practice in peace. No matter how many locks you put on your door just to keep Tom out, he was always able to pick them.

As you all got older, he grew to annoy you in a different way, blasting loud, grungy music through Harrison’s bedroom walls late at night or eating things out of the fridge that clearly had your name on them. Once he’d started to garner some attention as an actor, his ego skyrocketed, and somehow he became an even bigger nuisance. He dragged Harrison away from you and took him all over the world while you had to sit idly by and love your brother from a distance.

When Tom would come over now, he would talk of nothing but hollywood parties and getting drunk with the biggest a-listers when he knew you were listening. He would ignore you when he breezed past you in the hallway, and even had the audacity to go into your bedroom when you were out and smoke a blunt on your bed so your whole room smelled like a music festival when you got home; and worst of all, it was your weed.

It was sufficient to say you were Tom Holland’s least enthusiastic fan. And it was rather unfortunate, because you were a big stan of the MCU—and secretly loved getting high and watching and re-watching the spider-man movies the most. Okay, don’t make that face. They have a good storyline.

It was a regular Friday night, you were aimlessly scrolling through your phone while Harrison and Tom were getting ready to go pub hopping. Harrison always invited you, but you never took him up on his offer because you knew how flirty you got with alcohol in your system and wouldn’t dare feel that way around Tom. He was notorious for taking anything nice you said about him and rubbing it in your face for at least a week after. 

“You know you secretly love me, babe.”

You hated when he called you babe, and he knew it. But since you’d both grown up, time had done you both a favor, and there was always an air of something you couldn’t quite place your finger on whenever you interacted...the pet name just made it more interesting.

“Hey, y/n, are you sure you don’t want to come out with us?” Harrison yelled from outside your bedroom door, and you peeked your head out to respond.

“Nah, it’s fine, Haz, go have fun. I have enough uni work to keep me busy.”

“It’s a Friday night, nerd.”

You stuck your tongue out at him and smiled. “Sorry I’m not a budding alcoholic like you, big bro.”

He laughed, blew you a kiss, and he and Tom were off.

Only about an hour later, you decided to take a break from studying and light up a joint, turning on your go-to movie for background noise- but were snapped out of your vibey trance when you heard the front door swing open, and your brother’s loud, drunk voice.

“W-why are we h-home, you div,” he slurred, as his heavy footsteps start to climb the stairs. After a long moment, you heard him collapse on his bed through your thin walls, still stammering out his words. “Thomas, I promise you, I am fineeee...”

“Mate, you’re sloshed. Go to bed.”

You decided to leave them be. This was a typical occurrence- one of the boys went too hard too early, and the other had to babysit until they made it home to pass out cold, usually on the bed, or the couch, or on a good day, the floor.

A few minutes passed while you hotboxed your room, feeling amazingly relaxed, until you saw your doorknob wriggling out of the corner of your eye. Your door was locked, so you ignored it. But the knob kept twisting and falling back in place, making the whole frame shake. After a long while of witnessing a ghost try to make its way into your room, you watched your lock turn slowly and click out of place, the door creaking opened to reveal Tom, swatting at the air when a cloud of smoke greeted him.

You snapped your laptop closed before he could hear his own voice flowing out of your speakers. “Tom, for the last time, stop picking my fucking lock!” You beamed your nearest pillow at him—which he caught before it struck him—and he threw it back, hitting you square in the face. Of course.

He flashed a cocky smile. “Why? It’s so easy.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m serious! I could’ve been naked or something!”

He just stood in the doorframe, giving you a once-over in your thin cotton t-shirt and yoga pants, and kept that smug expression locked on his face. 

“Ew, Tom, you’re disgusting. Get out.”

He decidedly did not get out, instead closing the door behind him and hopping up next to you on your bed, the divot in your mattress leaving your bodies pressed much too close together. You were met with a strong whiff of his cologne and the gin he must’ve been drinking earlier. “I’ll take that,” he muttered as he lifted your joint out of your fingers and took a puff, sucking his breath in as his lungs filled. 

Your stomach filled with a dull fire and you narrowed your eyes. “Do you mind?”

He turned to face you and blew a big puff of smoke directly into your face, the notorious smirk making its reappearance. “Not at all, thanks for asking though.”

You groaned aloud. “What are you doing in here?” he took another draw and handed you back what was rightfully yours, smoke dissipating from his mouth as he spoke.

“Haz is pissed and I’m bored.”

You relit the bud and inhaled for a long while, figuring you’d need to be pretty intoxicated to not smack him in the face if he tried to talk again. “Well, go be bored somewhere else. I was busy.”

He cocked an eyebrow at you and reached across your lap for your computer. “Doing what?” 

Oh shit. “Dude, can you not-?!” you yelped, but he had swiped it too quickly out of your grasp, and opened it up to find himself paused on your screen. You laid back on your bed so he couldn’t see your cheeks now flushed with embarrassment and grabbed your lighter from your nightstand. It was going to be a long evening.

He leaned himself over to catch your eye and had the stupidest, most prideful look plastered across his face. “Gotcha.”

You punched him in the arm as he erupted into laughter—but the anger inside you had been dulled by the weed and replaced with a childlike silliness—and you started to giggle, too. You looked up into his eyes, pupils now wildly dilated and tinted red around the edges.

“Shut up, Tom, you’re high,” you said in between chuckles.

“Yeah? Well so are you!”

You poked fun at each other for a while, suddenly in a mutually fantastic mood. You knew in the back of your mind that none of this would be happening if you hadn’t gotten stoned together, but you enjoyed the warm company anyway. 

“Well, you gotta finish it, don’t you?” he said, settling back down and fixating the computer on his lap so you could both see it.

“You really want to watch your own movie?”

“Doll, it’s my favorite thing to do.” he smiled at you.

“God, you’re the worst.” you felt some butterflies make an entrance in your chest that had never been there before.

He pressed play and cozied up on your bed, lying back against the wall with his arm lazily draped behind you. You pulled a blanket up onto your lap and had really no choice but to lean on him for support, neither of you admitting out loud that you were full on cuddling and not angry about it.

“Hey, aren’t you gonna share?” he whined, pulling at the corner of your blanket.

“Get your own,” you responded, internally high-fiving yourself for finally getting the chance to sass him back. Sure, you had your head comfortably resting on his shoulder, but that didn’t mean you were suddenly friends.

You let the movie play, the two of you blowing through the joint until it was a dwindling nub. The scene where Peter has his big kiss with MJ started, and you stifled a snigger as their lips met on the screen.

Tom had clear offense laced through his words. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged.

He sat up to look at you, eyebrows knit together in an angry pout. “Tell me.”

“I just...feel bad for Zendaya, that’s all.” you covered your mouth to keep from laughing, and his eyes rolled so far back into his head you were sure they’d be stuck that way forever.

“You’re such a brat,” he started, his ego finding its old place back in his voice. “I’m an amazing kisser. She told me herself.”

You looked away from him, taking a heavy exhale. “Yeah, whatever, dude.”

He sat even more upright and paused the movie, taking hold of your shoulder to make you turn to him. “What, you don’t believe me?”

You realized then how physically close you had gotten, as you could feel the syllables of his words in his breath hitting your face. He was doing that thing boys do, when they’re thinking about kissing you but don’t- their stares going back and forth between your lips and your eyes in a not so subtle way. It freaked you out to see him that close and personal, and you whispered back exactly what you knew would irk him the most.

“Nope.”

He moved his face impossibly closer to yours, and you felt his soft lips lightly brush over your own. You weren’t sure if this was real, or just a high hallucination, but you didn’t move away. This was entirely uncharted territory.

“Tooommmm!” you heard Harrison yell out from the other side of the wall. “Where are yooouuu?! I’m so thirsty!” Tom immediately jerked his head away from you and shook himself out of the moment. You brought your hand up to your cheek and shuddered at how hot it had become- your own body was betraying you.

“God, he’s gonna be the death of me,” Tom said, shoving himself off the bed and walking out of your room, glancing back at you for a moment and then closing the door behind him. Just like that, he was gone, and you were left trapped in your own psyche wondering what the hell had just happened.

Over the course of the next week, things has become exponentially weirder between you and Tom. He seemed to be spending much more time at your house than he normally did, even sleeping a few nights there instead of driving the five minutes back to be in his own bed. One unsuspecting morning, you knocked on your bathroom door, annoyed that it had been shut for such a long time. 

“Haz, if you use up all the hot water again, I’m gonna kill you,” you said in between knocks. You were taken by surprise when it swung open, steam billowing out into the cool air.

“Whoops,” you heard a voice say, immediately realizing it wasn’t your brother. You took a step backward to see Tom emerge, wearing nothing but a towel loosely wrapped around his waist. His hair was damp and clinging to his forehead, and he looked like some glowing magazine model. 

“Uh, sorry,” you stammered, accidentally inhaling the yummy smell of his soap and shampoo emanating off of his skin.

He noticed you eyeing him and a sly grin appeared as he rolled his bottom lip under his teeth. “Shower’s all yours, babe,” he said, bumping your shoulder with his own as he walked away. You were stuck in place and didn’t see him glancing back at you as he wandered down the hallway. 

Another day after that, Tom and Harrison were looking for a certain record to play, but it was nowhere to be found. “It might be in y/n’s room,” Harrison said, sitting back in his lounge chair. “Wanna go grab it?”

Tom coughed. “Why do I have to get it?”

“Because I’m comfortable.”

Tom felt a mix of annoyance and nerves in his chest as he walked the short distance down the hallway to your room where the door was already cracked open. He invited himself in—excitement faltering a little when he saw you weren’t in your usual spot on your bed—and started to sift through your bookshelves.

You had been in the bathroom getting dressed after your shower, but realized you left your shirt in your closet- and seeing that Harrison’s bedroom door was still shut, you figured it was safe to run across the landing into your room without anyone seeing you. In just a bra and spandex shorts that left little to the imagination, you swiftly made your way across the hall and walked through your door that was still open a crack to see Tom kneeled down as he shuffled through your record collection.

He heard your small gasp when you entered to find him, and swiveled around to you standing only a few feet away from him in the least amount of clothing he’d ever seen on you. He abruptly stood up but didn’t move, eyes sparkling as they rolled down your body.

“What the fuck! Why are you always in my room?!” You were too shocked to think about finding something to cover yourself with, and put your hands over your face, trying not to die of embarrassment. Tom remained glued to his place on your carpet, clearly at a loss for words.

“Tom, can you leave please-”

“Right, yeah, okay, uh, bye-” he hurried out of your room, swinging the door almost shut but leaving just a crack so he could speak into it.

“...I like your shorts.”

“TOM!”

He chuckled and closed the door, and you slumped against the wall, still holding your head in your hands. What was this sudden hold he had over you? And why did you love the way that he was staring at you?

That night, you had a big paper to complete, and you were perched in your bed typing away as it got dark. In between two songs on your playlist, you heard the familiar jiggle of a doorknob. Looking up over your screen, you watched as the metal turned in its socket, and heard a soft “crushed it” as the lock undid itself. Your door opened steadily and slowly, a familiar face peeking in at you.

“Hi.”

“Oh sweet jesus,” you mumbled.

“You busy?”

“Clearly.”

“Cool.” Tom let himself into your room, shutting the door behind him and sauntering over to your bed, sitting down next to you, bouncing like a little kid and singing his words. “Whatcha doooin’?”

“Homework,” you said, continuing to type and trying your best to ignore the way the sound of his voice was waking up something electric inside of you. He leaned into your body to peer at your computer screen, pretending to be interested in whatever you were writing about. His elbow got in the way of your hands, and you had to stop typing.

“Thomas, is there something I can help you with?”

“Haz is asleep,” he said, resting his head on your shoulder like it hadn’t been a week since your almost-kiss and you hadn’t been actively avoiding bringing it up.

You felt jittery. “And?”

He gently pushed your hands away from the keyboard and closed your laptop shut, giving you a sheepish smile. “Wanna get high?”

Honestly, you did.

You turned on your lamp and turned off the overhead light, put on that record he finally found, lighting a candle and then another hand-rolled blunt. This time, Tom sat upright with you perpendicular to him, your legs swung over his lap. When he made a joke, he’d give your leg a little squeeze- and whether it was purposeful or not, you were filled with schoolgirl nerves every time it happened.

All the angsty barriers built up over years of a sibling-like rivalry had come down between the two of you as you smoked together; you suddenly found all of his bad jokes funny, and he couldn’t peel his eyes away from the cute way you scrunched your nose when you laughed. Every time you exchanged the blunt, you couldn’t help but think about how his lips had just been on it a moment before yours. The night came and went, and you ended up falling asleep wrapped in his arms as he dozed off with his chin pressed to your forehead.

You both woke up at the same time in the dead of night, unsure of how late it had gotten. Still nestled into each other, you exchanged sleepy glances and no words, taking a moment to realize the position you had put yourselves in. 

Tom grazed your jawline with the back of his hand and lifted up your chin with his thumb. You let your eyes flutter shut and he kissed you in the dark for one long, everlasting moment. He pulled back from you hesitantly, leaving you breathless. Did that really just happen?

“We...we can’t,” he whispered, his words tinged with sadness.

Your heart broke for him just hearing his voice. “Why not?”

“You’re my best friend’s little sister, y/n.”

“And you’re my brother’s best friend. So what?” you were almost upset with yourself for being so vulnerable; so visibly pining after him.

“So, you’re off limits,” he said, resting his forehead against yours. 

“Says who?” 

That prompted Tom to meet your gaze again, and this time you took initiative, moving your face to his and taking his bottom lip in between yours. He took a sharp inhale as you kissed him and seemed to let all inhibition go as he put his arms around your back and pressed you into him hard, all of his pent up feelings for you suddenly flowing out of him. He kissed you in a needy, desperate kind of way, and you loved every second of it. You ran your fingers through his hair, traced his jawline, using your hands to feel every bit of him that you couldn’t before. The strangest part of it all was how natural it felt- like you had been practicing for this very moment all your lives. 

Your record had stopped spinning a while ago, the room now filled with just the breathy noises of your kisses, your contented hums and his tiny mews when you bit his lips. You were both still barely lucid, and after countless minutes of nothing but innocent kisses, you were on the brink of falling asleep again, serotonin whisking you away into dreams. Tom sighed into you, and clasped his hand around yours.

“I have to go.”

“What? Why?” you felt your heart preeminently sink in your chest; like you should’ve known this was too good to last.

“I don’t want him to wake up and find us here,” he trailed off, staring down at your intertwined fingers fiddling together.

“So that’s it?” you tried to swallow back the sudden upwell of feelings inside you.

“No, no...” his eyes filled with some type of emotional strain you’d never seen. “I- I don’t want this to be it. But I don’t want things to get...messy.”

Unfortunately, you couldn’t blame him, because you understood.

“Can you come back tomorrow night?” you whispered, very not ready to let his spot next to you grow cold.

“I don’t know...”

You looked up at him doe-eyed, cooing. “Please?”

He nodded, looking away from you before he completely caved and stayed there forever. “I’ll come back.”

He pressed one last kiss onto your lips and slowly got up, reluctantly letting go of your hand as he left your room. “Goodnight, babe.”

Hearing him call you babe, finally free of demeaning sarcasm, made your heart soar. 

“Goodnight, Tom.”

The door shut and you were left alone, the stillness of your room sticking out in sharp contrast with how quickly your heart was racing.

For the next few nights, Tom spent the evenings at your house with Harrison, waiting until he fell asleep to make his way next door to you. You’d smoke together, watch his movies—and in heated moments got a little handsy—but you never went past kissing, though you both desperately wanted to. It was too risky having your brother right next door; and you knew all too well how paper thin your walls were. But in those secretive hours after solar midnight, just being able to exist next to Tom and letting him hold you, you were the happiest you could ever remember being. The second night he left your room to let you sleep, he placed a light kiss on your forehead after he stood up that made the whole thing feel a little too...real.

The next day, you walked into the kitchen and found Harrison at the fridge. You were in a great mood for obvious reasons but couldn’t let it show. “Hey, got any fun plans today?”

He turned around after shoving a handful of grapes in his mouth. “Nope, got some admin stuff to do and gonna turn in early.”

“Oh, Tom isn’t coming over?”

“No, I told him to take a night off. He’s been smothering me, y’know?” he laughed and ate a few more grapes, but then turned to you, confused. “Since when do you care if he’s coming over?”

You swallowed, unsure of what to say. “Just want to know if I need to stay out of the way,” you faked a laugh and blinked hard, hoping he wasn’t paying too much attention to your facial expressions.

“Uh, alright then. You two are always so fuckin’ weird around each other.” He seemed to feel that was a good way to end your exchange and walked out of the kitchen, throwing a grape at you.

You rolled your eyes at your brother, but then felt the sadness bubble up upon registering that you weren’t going to see Tom tonight. But really, how long did you think you could keep this up? The feelings you were developing for him scared you, you didn’t know what to make of them; all you knew was that your days suddenly seemed much grayer without him.

Nighttime came around, and you couldn’t sleep, so you did the unthinkable and sent Tom a text. Your thumb shook as you hit send, knowing that there was now tangible evidence of the connection you’d developed, that it wasn’t just some invention of your mind.

hey, are you awake?

T: yeah, can’t sleep. you?

obviously, i just texted you.

T: shut it.

A minute passed...

T: got room for one more over there?

You smiled like an idiot at your phone.

maybe.

Less than 10 minutes later, you heard the familiar wriggle of your doorknob. You don’t know why you even bothered locking it anymore.

“Hey you,” he whispered, carefully shutting the door behind him.

“Tom, you know you could’ve just knocked and I would’ve let you in- you don’t have to keep picking the lock.”

“Old habits die hard.”

You chuckled and stood up to greet him at your door as he unexpectedly wrapped you in an amazingly tight hug. He rested his chin on top of your head and started to sway your bodies back and forth. You laid your head on his chest and said hello to his heartbeat.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it was almost hard to fall asleep without you,” he murmured, placing another one of those domestic kisses on your scalp.

“Well, now you don’t have to.” you smiled. He waddled you backwards to your bed and you sat down as your legs hit the bedframe, prompting Tom to fall onto you as you giggled into his body that was now covering your face.

“Okay, goodniiight,” he said, refusing to move. You poked at his sides making him jump, and he grabbed your waist and rolled you on top of him. You instinctively leaned down so your lips could clash together in the way you were so used to, trying hard to not confess that you’d completely fallen in love with him when you finally had the breath to speak. He pushed your hair to cascade to one side of his face, and nuzzled your nose with his own, closing his eyes and humming with a smile. “Mmm.”

“Hmm?”

“Just happy.”

You rested your sleepy head on his warm chest, and fell into a deep sleep, letting the steady drumming in his chest be a metronome to breathe to.

~

“Oh, shit. Shit shit shit.”

You woke up abruptly, the bright light of day blinding you as you tried to open your eyes to the string of expletives you’d just heard come from a familiar voice. Once you’d opened them, though, you wish you had kept them shut so you hadn’t seen who had spoken.

“Harrison?!”

He was standing in your room, peering at you with hands half covering his eyes when you realized that there was a sleeping Tom underneath you.

Your brother paced in a circle and exhaled loudly. “Tell me I’m not seeing what I’m seeing.”

You nudged Tom awake with your elbow and immediately rolled off of him, trying to hide the very obvious fact that you had slept together all night. You never let him stay the full night for this exact reason, but he had been so ridiculously happy holding you in his arms that he forgot to set an alarm to wake him at the crack of dawn and leave. You sat up straight in your bed, twisting your hair in your hands, bracing yourself for the inevitable tirade.

Tom picked his head up to see Harrison standing there with his arms crossed, and flopped his head back on the pillow. “Fuck. Hey, mate.” He tried to play it off like this was the most normal thing that could happen on a Thursday morning.

“Is this why you’re always such bumbling fools around one another? You’ve been, what, fucking each other when I’m not around?” Harrison looked like he wanted to throw up at the thought.

“Haz, no, it’s not like that,” you said, but he didn’t seem convinced. “It’s just been smoking together and cuddling, really, that’s it,” you were torn between wanting to console your brother and admitting to both him and Tom that this was more to you than that. But Tom already knew that, because it was for him, too.

Tom looked like a deer in headlights. “I’m so sorry, dude-”

Harrison walked out of the room, and the two of you were left sitting in your bed, worry filling your eyes. Only a moment later, your brother reappeared in the doorway.

“Look, you idiots, I don’t care that you’re snuggling off the clock—you’re my two favorite people in the world, and to see you together, honestly, it’s about damn time,” he started, making both your and Tom’s jaws fall slightly agape. You exchanged a knowing look. Wait, is he not mad? Wait, about damn time??

“But I wish you would’ve told me so we could all hang out together. I don’t appreciate the sneaking around.” 

You cocked your head at him, sending him a loving gaze for always just wanting what’s best for you. 

“I’m just mad you aren’t including me in your hotbox sessions, really.” He laughed and ran his hands through his hair, pulling his face back to make a wild expression.

All three of you started to chuckle out of sheer awkwardness and relief.

“Come here.” Harrison held his hands out and you both gave a mutual aww as you ran into your brother’s arms, squeezing him tight.

“I love you, big bro.”

“I know. Now I’m gonna get out of here before you start kissing in front of me, or worse,” he moaned, swiftly exiting your room. “This is gonna be the grossest thing I’ve ever seen...” you heard him say to himself as he left.

You turned to Tom, still shocked at how well that had gone considering what he was assuming would happen. You swallowed the butterflies that you’d welcomed as friends and stepped back to him still sitting on the bed, putting your arms around his neck.

“And you,” you started, swinging your legs over his lap to straddle him. “I have to confess something.”

Tom placed his hands back on your hips where they rightfully belonged and smiled at you. “I’m listening.”

“I don’t mind you calling me babe anymore.” you grinned at his face drop, obviously assuming that you were going to say something else.

“Oh, and why’s that?” he prodded.

You looked up and off to the side as you squeezed his shoulders. “Maybe because I’m just a tad bit in love with you,” you trailed off, stiff as a board at what he could possibly say next.

“Well, babe,” he put emphasis on the pet name, “That’s a relief, because I was worried I might be the only one falling here.”

You grabbed his face and kissed him, kneading his soft cheeks under your thumbs, whispering exactly what you knew would get him the most.

“Nope.”

[futuregws]

They might be still lurking so if you don’t answer this on your blog I understand BUT wanna hear something interesting about the person she quote tweeted with that picture?

First of all, I knew at some point she’ll post a pic of them 2 as some kind of validation for shippers and “gotcha” to antis. It’s funny af that it’s a bts pic where I’m not even sure if that’s Joseph or not and they’re not even near each other LMFAO

Secondly, that person is also here on tumblr. I won’t write there name if you do decide to post BUT. This person often draws a lot of fanart of ExC ship. This is the same person who posted that art of them two flexing together AND in the tags said “I’m gonna draw nsfw art out of spite”. This is the same post that Grace reblogged (then deleted) saying “the tags made me 😈”.

Also like last week or so they DID draw a nsfw art of eddie eating Chr*ssy out… which got reported and flagged for adult content (obviously). And they ranted about “American Puritanism” and blamed disgusting/jealous/childish st*ddies for taking down their art. Meanwhile some blogs sub posted about what they said, saying that they sounded homophobic af to blame st*ddies for tumblr taking down their NSFW art as if tumblr doesn’t have policies against it

You know what, fuck it I'm gonna post this bc I wanna answer and it would be complicated to do it on a separate post, but before I say anything if someone could send me that persons @ on here so I can block please, and now onto what the ask is actually about and where to even begin, I'm not surprised that the person posting that acts the way they do bc apparently they are also a Joe and Grace shipper so I think that says a lot about how far they go and how obsessed they are, and this whole vibe from Grace's posts where it looks like she's trying to annoy or like you said having that "gotcha" energy with it, it's embarrassing, post whatever but don't act as if you're posting something out of this world that will make some people in this case "antis" be furious bc that's in her head and her fans heads and if they care that much to try and make us mad idk what to tell them, and about that last part I don't even have words to express how grossed out I am, first of all them coming out and complaining about "American puritanism" uhm girly you are literally posting explicit sexual content on an app that has numerous times tried to make those type of stuff go away, so I don't know what they were expecting from this, and second that's fucking gross, what's the point of drawing stuff like that, bc if it's still to "piss antis off" then geez get another hobby bc it's starting to look like a very unhealthy obsession, and the fact that they're making drawings like that when one of the characters is a minor, it's ten times worse, they need to get their heads out of their ass bc I really don't understand in what world making a drawing like that it's totally okay, more specifically with the characters in question, and the main problem is not even the type of drawing even though I do have my problems with this one in specific, If you wanna draw stuff like that go for it, but you have to accept that when you're posting that on the internet some people might get uncomfortable and rightfully so, not everyone likes looking at explicit sexual acts if you wanna post stuff like that with no problems go to the appropriate website, and the audacity they have to blame steddie shippers, I've noticed that it has become some type of trend to blame steddie shippers for everything even when they didn't do anything, it's like edissy shippers see themselves as superior and any other opinion or ship is below them and the fact that the ship in question is a gay ship certainly makes you think a little deeper as to where that's coming from bc it's not normal to target a group of people when they haven't done anything and on top of that for it to be a group supporting mlm relationships feels definitely homophobic

[hargrove-mayfields]

Day two of the Horror on Cherry Lane Challenge! Today’s prompt is Rib Cage.

warnings for mentions of disordered eating.

It’s been a problem since he was young. Momma’s little projection of insecurity and status.

Steve doesn’t eat. Not when he can help it. And he’s good at hiding it too.

He wears concealer to cover the bags under his eyes. He goes and gets highlights in his hair to hide how dull and greasy it is. He brushes his teeth at least six times a day to hide the damage from the purging. And he buys his pants a size too big to pretend he’s not getting thinner.

But as good as he is at pretending, Billy’s even better at reading people.

Since November and getting put in his place by his step sister, Billy’s been an observer. The role of instigator went to Tommy while Billy sits atop his throne and just, takes it in. A dynamic not so different to what Steve once had with Tommy.

But it means he notices everything that goes down in his kingdom, and especially everything concerning Steve Harrington.

Steve doesn’t even notice at first that Billy has noticed him, not from the little remarks and the stares that last a little too long. It’s obvious, but he doesn’t get it. Doesn’t see what it is that draws his attention to him.

Not until Billy steps down from his royal court to confront him in the locker rooms.

Steve’s been avoiding the showers after practice for a long time. It’s bad enough being surrounded by that many other boys, all more fit than him in one way or another, but as if that isn’t enough, he has to show himself too. The second he takes his shirt off, everyone’ll know what he’s up to.

He’s proud of his body. He’s proud of having earned his beauty. But he’s humiliated by the questions. Be it the faux concern or the mockery he’s more than used to, he just wants nothing to do with it.

So he lingers, on the court talking to coach, pretending to be searching for something in his bag. Anything to keep him from having to face the nagging.

But Billy notices, because of course he does. And he sits on the bench between the lockers all smug like. Waiting for Steve to run out of excuses so he can corner him.

It works, after Steve digs through his locker for some imaginary object for the dozenth time, he sighs and turns to Billy, “You gonna keep starin’ at me, Hargrove? What’re you even still doing here?”

“Coach asked me to stay’n lock up. What’s your problem, man?” Billy hums casually, like he doesn’t even care how much he’s bothering Steve. It’s something he’s probably used to by now anyways.

If only he knew what that indifferent assailed routine did to Steve. He buries that for now though, to argue, “You seem to be the one with a problem.”

Billy snarks right back, “Ain’t wrong about that. But I was watchin’ you at practice. What’s wrong with your ribs?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re crossin’ your arms over your chest. You’re breathin’ all shallow like. You won’t even take your shirt off and get in the damn shower. Someone kick your ass Harrington?”

“No, no. That’s.. not it.”

“Uh-huh. Say the word n’I’ll put a stop to it. S’it Hagan? I told him to get off your case, man” Billy tries to convince him into admitting something, not knowing exactly what it is, but Steve shuts him down again, trying not to think too much about the concern in the other boys tone and expression.

“Seriously, dude. It’s just.. it’s me.”

“Right. ‘Cause you knocked your own self around like that. Lemme see it, Harrington.” Billy motions vaguely to Steve’s ribs, where the imaginary injury is, making his chest seize, flinching back from the touch that doesn’t land.

“No. No fucking way.”

“C’mere.” Before Steve can tell him no again, Billy steps forward and touches his ribs. His face looks sort of defeated when he doesn’t make Steve flinch or wince, clearly wrong, as Steve already knew, about the presence of a bruise.

His fingers gently linger though, tracing over each bone as they protrude through pale skin. It sends a shiver through Steve’s spine, and a spike of anger into his heart. Before Billy even opens his mouth, he knows he’s seen through him.

Knows Billy noticed that, just a month shy of the year anniversary of the fight, his body has changed far too drastically for it to be natural, or otherwise normal. His face softens in a way that’s so distinctly not-Billy, it makes Steve want to never see him that way again, “Steve..”

“Fuck off.”

But it’s too late, “Why’re you doin’ it?”

“Leave me alone, Hargrove. For real.”

“Don’t be stubborn, man. Lemme help you.”

“You don’t even know me, douchebag. I’m fine so just stop it.” Steve insists, panic rising in his chest, making his breath come out short and his throat real tight.

Billy doesn’t relent though.

“Yeah? Well I do know you’re starving yourself.” Billy counters, his tone surprisingly animated. It’s almost make Steve feel special if Billy wasn’t being an ass, “Used to think the school lunches were just below you. Thought your ass was too expensive for cold pizza like the rest of us ate. But I get it now. S’why you don’t drink either isn’t it?”

“Okay, you’ve been stalking me?”

“Just been keepin’ an eye on my competition. N’I don’t much like it when my competition starts gettin’ too depressed to even put up a damn fight.” It’s obvious Billy’s using that as a cover for something deeper that Steve doesn’t get, wishing Billy would just come out and say it already.

“Well I’m not much of a threat. Never was.” He prompts, but what Billy responds with instead instead is, “Exactly, and whose fault is that?”

Steve raises his eyebrows, surprised by the venom behind Billy's words. He’s even more surprised when Billy tears into him again, “M’serious. You’re wasting yourself away. It’s no damn wonder you can’t keep up anymore.”

That stings. “I thought you were getting better, but you’re clearly still an asshole.”

“And I thought you were alright to begin with. But I guess we’re both wrong.”

“So what the hell do you want me to say? Thank you my savior for savin’ me from myself?”

“Would you let me?” It’s not the answer Steve is expecting, the way Billy’s been acting since he confronted him, and he makes sure he knows, asking, “What?”

“Would you let me help you? Save you from what you’re doing?” Billy tries again, and it’s even more blindsiding this time.

“Like you even could. You said it yourself, Hargrove. I’m kicking my own ass here. You can’t help me.”

“I bet I could. You need someone in your corner.” Steve opens his mouth to argue, but Billy cuts him off quickly, “That curlyheaded kid don’t count. You need someone to look out for you. I’d let you be King again if it stopped this from happening.”

“But why would you?”

“I got my reasons.”

“Then just fucking tell me. If it’s good, I might think about it.”

“Look, I like you Harrington. I ain’t gonna stand by and watch you do this to yourself. Why’d you think I was checkin’ up on you in the first place?”

“To rub it in my fucking face that I’m unstable or some shit. Try to get dirt on me so you can make my life even more miserable.”

“What do I gotta do to show ya I really care then?” Billy sighs, but Steve hardly has the mind to detect his frustration, because he’s suddenly hung up by this declaration, simple to Billy but astroninal to him, “Wait- care? You mean, you don’t just like me in the same way everyone likes King Steve?”

“No. I meant it in the other way, Steve. The way I’m not so good at saying with words. The way I’ve trying to show you since we made things right. But I guess I’m not really good at this crush shit either.” Billy’s so bashful, so genuine, Steve knows he’s being honest, but some part of him can’t process it still.

“Oh.” Steve shakes his head, can’t believe it long enough to even look Billy in the eyes and deny it, “No-No you don’t. You’re fucking with me.”

“I do and I’m not. And that’s exactly why I’m not gonna sit around and watch this- this slow death you’re putting yourself through.”

Suddenly, this whole conversation goes from frustrating and pissing him off, to embarrassing. Like Billy's perception of him somehow changed his own. It’s funny how he was willing to argue with an enemy, but the second that other motive came into play, Steve finds himself flustered and trying to cover his tracks with a declaration of, “It’s not even that bad.”

But Billy continues to be a sweet talker, and he begs, all gentle and considerate, “Then let me fix it before it is. Please, Steve?”

“Okay.. okay.” Steve nods, biting the corner of his nail as he thinks, regretting it and shoving his hands in his pocket instead. He starts, after a moment of trying to collect his thoughts, “Just- Billy?”

“Yeah?”

“I like you too. That’s the only reason I’m accepting this.”

“Fine by me. How ‘bout I follow you back to yours tonight? Keep an eye on you still. Keep my promise too.” Billy offers, tone somewhat hopeful.

In response, Steve smiles shakily, so nervous his heart pounds in his chest. His ribs feel weak against its rhythm, like his chest could cave in from the combination of nerves and admiration, at knowing someone actually cared for him. He’s never felt more fragile than he does for Billy.

“I would like that a lot, Billy.”

[taetaespeaches]

“You’ve been my future since we were teenagers.”

taehyung x reader (or oc) genre: angst; fluff word count: 2.3K

a/n: Hi, lovelies! In this drabble, Peaches gets jealous over Tae getting close with a music collaborator and it leads to a small but a bit heated argument. It just kind of shows how Tae and Peaches handle conflict in their relationship. I hope you all enjoy and thank you for reading! :))

EYES peering over the top of your book, you inhaled deeply at the small smile tugging on your boyfriend’s lips as he stared down at his phone. Taehyung had been like that for most of the twenty minutes since he’d gotten to your place.

He was sat at the opposite end of the couch, you perpendicular to him on your own respective side as you watched him text his collaboration partner. Frustration building, you closed your book and tossed it to the coffee table, drawing Tae’s eyes for one of the first times that night.

You met his widened gaze. “I can’t focus,” you answered his silent question, the man nodding as he kept staring at you. His hand curled around your ankle, soothing your limb for a moment before you pulled your legs off the couch and stood up.

Without a word, you left the room to the kitchen, feeling Tae’s watchful eyes on you. Standing above the sink, you prepared to do the dishes before your boyfriend’s arms wrapped around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I told you I’d do the dishes, Peaches,” he said gently, his nose nuzzled against your neck.

“I just thought you were too busy on your phone,” you told him coldly, Taehyung looking up at you.

“Are you mad at me?” He asked sheepishly, you sighing.

“I’m annoyed with you,” you corrected, Taehyung cocking his head to get a better look at your face.

“Why?” He asked tentatively. You were sure he already knew why, but he must have needed to hear it.  

“You spent the entire day with her in the studio and now you’re spending the evening smiling at your phone as you text her,” you told him coldly, plugging the sink to fill it with water. You were never one to evade conflict, which was something Taehyung appreciated about you. Neither of you ever played games with each other when it came to your emotions.

“You’re jealous?” He asked, a small amused smile forming on his lips.

“Of course, I’m jealous,” you told him, looking down at him with a glare.

The man let out a light laugh, dismissing your frustration. “You shouldn’t be, Peaches.”

Shrugging him off, Taehyung backed away slightly, removing his arms from your body in concern. “Don’t laugh, it’s not funny,” you told him angrily, not impressed by him trying to make light of your jealousy, no matter how silly he found it to be.

“Wait, you’re like jealous?” He emphasized the word as if it gave it a different meaning. You supposed it did, because you weren’t feeling the cute form of jealousy where you pouted and acted protective of him from whoever was trying to steal his attention. You were feeling the bad kind of jealousy where doubts started to seep into your thoughts, along with all of your insecurities.

“Yes,” you told him shortly. “Obviously.”

“There’s nothing to be jealous of,” he assured you, staring at you intently as you avoided meeting his eyes. “Peaches.”

“Ever since you started the collab you’ve been talking about her constantly and-”

“Not her, I’ve been talking about the collab,” he interrupted, making you turn to look at his face, his expression showing his quick rise to anger. “Because I’m doing a collab. My first one outside of the group,” he explained.

“You’re sitting there on the couch with me, smiling at your fucking phone, Taehyung,” you lectured, your boyfriend taking a deep breath.

“I’m talking to a friend and collaborator about our collaboration. You don’t have a reason to be jealous,” he told you again, the words just pissing you off further.

“And yet here I am being jealous, so explain that to me,” you glared at him. When he shrugged, you huffed. “I have reason to be jealous, and that’s on you.”

“That’s not on me,” he defended crossly, his eyebrows pulled together. “That’s on you and your irrationality.” The words were mean and you both knew it, but he stood stubbornly as he expected your irate response.

“Oh, fuck off,” you spewed, crossing your arms across your chest. Taehyung shot you a look with just as much anger as you, his tongue swiping out to wet his lips. “Call me irrational again and you’ll see how irrational I can be.” Taehyung kept staring at you, giving no indication of saying more, but also giving you no sign of an apology. “My feelings are valid, don’t dismiss them.”

“I’m not dismissing them but I’m not going to entertain them, and I’m not going to take blame for your crazy accusations,” he told you, anger clouding his judgement and choice of words.

“Crazy?” You asked through a bitter laugh. “Now I’m crazy?”

“If you think I’m cheating on you, then yeah, you’re crazy,” he told you, breaking eye contact for the first time. He couldn’t hold your gaze when he was speaking to you like that, but his pride was too overbearing to allow him to backdown.

With your chest heaving as you fumed, you shook your head. “Well if there’s one way to make me act crazy, it’s by calling me crazy,” you told him coldly. “Keep it up.”

“Jesus, Peaches, I’m just saying if I tell you that you have no reason to be jealous, just listen to me,” he stated in frustration.

Scoffing, you rolled your eyes. “Don’t tell me to listen to you, your actions speak louder than your words, which by the way have been all about this collab anyway,” you said, fully aware of how ridiculous and unsupportive you sounded.

What shot across Taehyung’s face wasn’t anger but rather sadness as he shifted on his feet. “I know I’ve been talking about the collab a lot,” he started, his voice low. “I’ve just been excited about it.”

Fuck. You knew the he was excited about the collaboration, and you wanted him to share all of it with you. His connection with the girl was just grating on your insecurities, and you hated how that was making you react.

“I know you’re excited, I’m excited too, Tae, but you’ve just gotten so close to each other the past week,” you told him, your sadness seeping into your tone, your expression dropping.

“We’re friends,” he reminded you, toying with the bracelets around his wrist.

“We were friends,” you pointed out, Taehyung looking at you in surprise. His wide-eyed expression looked so innocent, you immediately cursed yourself for insinuating that he was repeating your love story with someone else, as if it was some pattern he repeated over and over.  

A tense silence filled the room, a stare off ensuing between you and your lover as you both waited for the other to make a move. You couldn’t read the expression on Taehyung’s face, or maybe you could but didn’t want to admit to yourself that you’d upset him that much. He looked angry and disappointed and beyond hurt.

Suddenly, Taehyung shook his head as he began to turn his back on you, panic rising within you, your heart racing as anxiety hit you like a train. “What are you doing?” You asked in haste, the speed of the words giving away your alarm.

“I don’t want to have this conversation anymore,” he told you, though he didn’t take a step away from you yet. “Not if you’re going to reduce me to some asshole who just tries to get all of his friends in bed.”

“I didn’t-,” you started somberly.

“Didn’t you?” He cut you off sharply. “I pined after you for years, I was in love with you for years,” he reminded you, “And you’re going to throw that in my face as if I just fall for anyone?”

“Tae-”

“I’m in love with you, I’m committed to you,” he pointed out. “I take that very seriously, if I didn’t why would I wait six fucking years to tell you? I mean, jesus christ, I wouldn’t even admit it to myself,” he told you, his volume increasing as he got more worked up.

“I know,” you assured, “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize now, you were very firm in your stance just a moment ago,” he refused your apology. “You know, I don’t appreciate the doubt.”

“I know,” you repeated lamely.

“I gave my heart to you and you gave yours to me,” he told you with tears gathering along his bottom lash line. “I’ve made it my whole life goal to protect your heart, I wouldn’t cheat on you.”

“I know that, Tae,” you said again.

“Do you?” He asked, tightening his jaw as soon as he posed the question in an attempt to compose himself.

“Yes, I do,” you insisted. Directing his gaze to the kitchen cabinet to his side, he took a deep calming breath. “Tae, I’m not trying to doubt you, I’m just feeling insecure,” you admitted.

“What do you have to be insecure about?” He asked you, turning to meet your gaze.

“Is that a real question?” You asked with a hint of a disbelieving laugh.

“Yeah,” he told you, though you realized with the pureness in his expression that he wasn’t asking because he was dismissing what you believed were your shortcomings. Rather, he genuinely couldn’t understand what you could be insecure about. And that’s when you realized how pointless the whole argument was, because when Taehyung saw you, he saw perfection.

It’s not that he thought you were perfect, he just thought that every single thing about you, flaw or not, was remarkable and worthy of all the love in his heart.

You sighed, dropping your eyes to the floor, wishing it would swallow you up into some time vortex that would allow you to go back to when these feelings first invaded your mind. You’d stop them right then and there, reminding yourself that even though you didn’t see what Taehyung saw, he saw everything in you.

“I wouldn’t even date other people for our entire friendship because no one compared to you. No one has ever been enough since I met you, Peaches,” he spoke overtop your consuming thoughts, you looking up at him tearfully. “You’re my future, and you’ve been my future since we were teenagers.”

“I’m sorry, Dearest,” you pouted.

Taehyung sighed, watching you for a moment as he processed everything that just happened. However, when he saw the first tears fall down your cheeks, his stubborn demeanor melted as he opened his arms to welcome you into a hug. Shuffling the few feet to him, you didn’t hesitate to wrap your arms around his waist, his folding over your shoulders, pulling you close.

“I know you have your insecurities,” he whispered into your hair before leaving a kiss to the top of your head. “But you can’t use those against me like this,” he told you gently.

“I know, I’m sorry,” you apologized again.

“I’m sorry too,” he said sincerely. “I’m sorry I made you feel so jealous, and I’m sorry I dismissed your feelings.”

“I just really love you a lot,” you mumbled against his chest, Taehyung chuckling against your hair.

“I love you, Peaches, you know that,” he told you, reminding you of how dedicated he was to you and your relationship. Nodding against his chest, he smiled. “Look at me, baby.”

Lifting your head to meet his eyes, you found him flashing you a soft smile. “We’re ok,” he told you.

“Ok,” you agreed just as Tae leaned toward you, catching your lips in a sweet kiss.

“Now,” he started, turning you around in one quick twirl so he was holding you in a back hug, gently guiding you toward as he waddled behind you. “You’re going to stand right here, just like this, as I wash these dishes like I promised you I’d do, alright?”

Giggling, you rested your head back against him, looking up at his cheerful face. “Okay,” you responded, dragging out the word with a sigh.

“You wanted my attention,” he reminded you, “now good luck getting rid of it.”

“I don’t want rid of it,” you spoke through a pout, the man chuckling.

“Good,” he grinned before placing a kiss to your temple. “Oh, but first,” he said almost giddily, “do you have your phone? I left mine on the couch.”

“Why?” You asked hesitantly, pulling the phone out of the hoodie pocket, holding it up for him to take. He easily typed the passcode in with one hand, opening up your music app.

“Donny Hathaway or John Lennon?” He asked, you gasping in surprise.

“Tae, no,” you whined, the man gigging behind you.

“Pick one,” he insisted.

With a groan, you lightly bit his wrist that was slung around your chest. “Hathaway,” you relented, Taehyung smiling against your temple as he searched up Donny Hathaway’s cover of ‘Jealous Guy’, a song all about letting your insecurities make you jealous, causing harm to your lover. The song was actually pretty heavy in meaning, but you and Tae had used it in the past to poke fun at yours and his jealous tendencies. It was a way to make light of the situation and turn it into a joke as a means to move past it.

“I was dreaming of the past,” Taehyung sang next to your ear, you elbowing him gently in the ribs, the man giggling as he pressed a series of kisses to your cheek. “I love you,” he told you once more.

“I love you more,” you replied.

As he started the dishes, you standing between him and the sink making the task much more difficult than it needed to be, you were reminded yet again how lucky you were to have someone who made it so easy to forgive, easy to forget. By the time the dishes were all washed, the front of your hoodie was soaked and your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. And your heart? Well that was full of love for one Kim Taehyung.