#from time to time i really vibe with open endings :D

[willczek-art]

Hi there tumblr, wanna see my final art school project? :DD

I've been passively rotating ttRPGs in my brain for a while now, so imagine my surprise when I found out I can make a little animated trailer for them and that's like... fun? and got me my degree?? and I sent it to Nerdy Pup Games who made the game and they are super excited about it???

im really happy :³

(Also in a cosmic coincidence Rebels of the Outlaw Wastes currently have running pre-orders! So you can actually grab a copy if you want! :DD Here's the link!)

[solxamber]

ive been relistening to the villains' songs like be prepared and poor unfortunate souls and it got me wondering if i could request for the overblotted boy reacting to a reader, whos usually pretty docile and a textbook example of a "good person", singing their respective villains' songs. Except that reader's extremely expressive through their voice and movements. so much so that they look and sound so villainous that its a complete 180 from their usual self. maybe reader was just vibing to themselves and their inner theater nerd came out and was just having the time of their life and the boys just so happen to be around and heard them. how would they react? :D

Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil reacting to reader singing their Villain songs

a/n; i know overblot gang was requested but evil queen, maleficent and hades don't have villain songs so i hope this is fine!

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle wasn’t sure what drew him to the courtyard that afternoon. Perhaps it was the faint melody drifting through the air, or the infectious energy radiating from the sound. But when he turned the corner, what he saw rooted him to the spot.

There you were, standing on one of the stone benches with an invisible spotlight illuminating your every move. Your normally calm, good-natured demeanor was gone, replaced by a commanding presence that demanded attention.

You sang “Who’s been painting my roses red?” with a voice that was equal parts theatrical and menacing. Your gestures were grand, your expression shifting effortlessly between outrage and cruel amusement as if you were a monarch addressing trembling subjects. It was captivating. It was terrifying. It was… perfect.

Riddle’s breath hitched as he watched you embody the very spirit of the Queen of Hearts. The fervor in your movements, the intensity in your voice—it was as though you had stepped out of one of his cherished childhood storybooks. You pointed an accusatory finger at a nonexistent offender, your voice dripping with venom as you declared, “Off with their heads!”

His heart pounded against his ribcage. Was this the same person who handed out snacks to dormmates without asking for anything in return? Who was always ready with a kind word, a helping hand, or a soft laugh?

And yet… this was you too. A side of you he’d never seen. Bold, commanding, unyielding.

Riddle swallowed hard, feeling heat creep up his neck. It was almost unfair how effortlessly you seemed to channel the Queen of Hearts he revered. How could you embody such power and poise when you were usually so… so… docile? His admiration mixed with a bewildering flush of pride.

You didn’t notice him, completely immersed in your impromptu performance. With a dramatic flourish, you ended the song, holding an invisible scepter aloft as if ruling over a kingdom of trembling subjects.

The silence that followed was deafening.

It was only then that you spotted him, his wide eyes and flushed face a dead giveaway that he’d seen the entire thing. Your mouth fell open, and you scrambled off the bench, your cheeks burning as you sputtered, “Riddle! I-I didn’t see you there!”

His lips moved as though he wanted to speak, but no sound came out. Finally, after a long moment, he managed, “That… was remarkable.”

“Remarkable?” you repeated, unsure if that was a compliment or a polite way of saying What on earth was that?

Riddle stepped closer, his expression torn between awe and embarrassment. “You—you truly embodied the spirit of the Queen of Hearts. Your intensity, your conviction…” He paused, his voice softening. “It was admirable. Inspiring, even.”

You blinked, stunned. “I was just messing around… You really think so?”

His cheeks burned brighter as he averted his gaze. “It’s… rare to see someone honor her so… naturally. I admire your passion. It’s…” He hesitated before meeting your eyes. “...beautiful.”

Your breath caught, and for a moment, you both stood in awkward silence, the weight of his words settling between you. Then, with a nervous laugh, you scratched the back of your head. “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed the show, Your Honor.”

Riddle’s lips twitched, almost into a smile. “I did.” Then, in a quieter voice, he added, “I always do.”

Leona Kingscholar

Leona wasn’t the type to eavesdrop. Not intentionally, anyway. But when he heard a low, familiar melody echoing from one of the quiet courtyards, his ears twitched involuntarily. Curiosity got the better of him, and he sauntered toward the sound.

What he saw stopped him dead in his tracks.

There you were, pacing back and forth on the edge of a stone fountain like a monarch surveying their pride. Your voice rang out—low, powerful, dripping with calculated malice—as you sang “Be prepared!” You punctuated the words with dramatic gestures, your arms sweeping through the air as if commanding an invisible army.

Leona’s tail flicked, his sharp green eyes narrowing. Where was the soft-spoken person he knew? The one who gave others the benefit of the doubt even when they didn’t deserve it? The one who, annoyingly, always had a kind smile ready for anyone in need?

No, this was someone else entirely. Someone confident. Dangerous. Mesmerizing.

“Meticulous planning, tenacity spanning, decades of denial…” Your voice grew stronger with each line, rising and falling in time with your movements. The sneer on your lips, the glint in your eyes—it was uncanny. You weren’t just singing the King of Beasts’ song. You were the King of Beasts.

Leona’s chest tightened as he watched you embody everything he admired about his ancestor. The cunning, the ambition, the audacity to demand a throne that should have been his by right. He knew those feelings well, knew the fire that came with them. And yet, seeing you channel them so effortlessly… it struck a chord he hadn’t expected.

And damn, if you didn’t look good doing it.

You reached the final verse, throwing your arms wide with a triumphant grin. “Yes, our teeth and ambitions are bared—be prepared!” Your voice echoed in the empty courtyard, the last note lingering in the air as you struck a dramatic pose.

Silence followed. Then—

“Didn’t know you had it in you, Herbivore.”

You jumped, nearly toppling into the fountain. “Leona!” you yelped, whipping around to see him leaning against a pillar, arms crossed and an infuriating smirk on his face.

“How long were you standing there?” you demanded, your cheeks heating up.

“Long enough.” He pushed off the pillar and strolled toward you, his gaze sharp and appraising. “You’ve been holding out on me, huh? All this time, you’ve been playin’ the meek little herbivore act, and now I catch you out here auditioning for the role of a lifetime.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “I was just goofing around! It’s not like—ugh, I can’t believe you saw that.”

He chuckled, low and deep. “Relax. I’m not complainin’. You nailed it, by the way. The whole ambition thing? Kinda suits you.”

You peeked at him from between your fingers, unsure if he was teasing or being sincere. “You’re not… weirded out?”

“Why would I be?” He tilted his head, his smirk softening into something almost fond. “You were channeling the King of Beasts, weren’t you? ‘Course you looked good doin’ it.”

His words made your heart skip, but before you could respond, he leaned in closer, his green eyes glinting. “Still, you’ve got guts pullin’ that off. You keep surprising me, Herbivore. I’ll give you that.”

Your face felt like it was on fire, but you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Well… thanks, I guess.”

He straightened, hands sliding into his pockets as he turned to leave. “Don’t stop on my account. You wanna belt out another song, go for it. Maybe I’ll even join in next time.”

And with that, he walked away, his tail swaying lazily behind him.

You stared after him, your heart pounding for reasons you didn’t quite understand. “Join in?” you muttered to yourself, shaking your head. “Yeah, right.”

But the thought of Leona singing Be Prepared with you? You couldn’t help but smile.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul always prided himself on keeping a calm, collected demeanor. It was part of the image he'd cultivated—smooth, sophisticated, and utterly unflappable. But today? Today, he felt his composure teetering on a knife’s edge.

He hadn’t meant to stumble across you in an empty classroom, where you apparently thought you were alone. The soft hum of music drew his attention as he passed by, and curiosity had compelled him to take a peek.

And there you were.

The typically sweet, mild-mannered person he knew had vanished, replaced by someone utterly commanding. You were perched on the edge of a table, one hand gesturing grandly as your voice rang out:

"Poor unfortunate souls, in pain, in need!"

Azul froze, the words sending a shiver down his spine. Your tone was rich, dripping with confidence, and paired with the way you moved—calculated, fluid, like every motion had a purpose—you were magnetic. You swept your arm out with a flourish, mimicking the sea witch herself, your voice curling around each word with wicked glee.

"This one longing to be thinner, that one wants to get the girl..."

Azul’s breath caught. You weren’t just singing the song. You were the song. The sly glances, the theatrical gestures, the sharp, knowing smile—you were embodying the Sea Witch in a way that made his heart race.

How had he never seen this side of you before?

"And do I help them? Yes, indeed!"

Your voice climbed, bold and commanding, and Azul’s mind raced. The way you seemed to channel the Sea Witch—the cunning, the control, the sheer power—it was breathtaking. You reminded him of everything he admired about the Sea Witch. The very traits that he also had.

But seeing you like this? It felt... dangerous.

"Now it’s happened once or twice, someone couldn’t pay the price...”

You leaned forward, your expression devious, and Azul’s chest tightened. He suddenly felt like one of those poor, unfortunate souls, utterly captivated and completely at your mercy.

The song ended with a flourish, and you threw your arms out, basking in your imaginary spotlight.

That’s when you noticed him.

“Azul?!” you yelped, nearly toppling off the table. “What are you doing here?”

He took a moment to collect himself, smoothing his expression into something neutral—though the faint pink dusting his cheeks betrayed him. “I was just passing by,” he said, clearing his throat. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Your face turned red as you scrambled to stand. “Oh, I was just... uh, messing around! It’s nothing serious.”

“Nothing serious?” His voice came out sharper than he intended. He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing slightly. “That performance was incredible.”

You blinked, startled. “You think so?”

“Without a doubt.” His voice softened, but his gaze remained intense. “You… embodied the role perfectly. The confidence, the cunning—you channeled it all flawlessly.”

You laughed nervously, rubbing the back of your neck. “Thanks, but I was just having fun. I didn’t think anyone would actually see me.”

“Perhaps you should reconsider,” he said, his tone almost too casual. “If you ever decide to pursue a career in theater, you’d be quite formidable.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “You really mean that?”

Azul’s smile was small but genuine. “Absolutely. Though, if I may… I’d suggest not showing that side of yourself to just anyone.”

“Why not?” you asked, puzzled.

He stepped even closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Because power like that can be… intoxicating. And there are those who might exploit it.”

You stared at him, unsure how to respond. The way he looked at you—like you were a puzzle he desperately wanted to solve—made your heart skip.

Azul cleared his throat again, stepping back as if realizing how close he’d gotten. “Anyway, I’ll leave you to your… ‘messing around.’”

As he turned to leave, you called out, “Azul?”

“Yes?”

“You’re not going to, like, hold this over my head, are you?”

He paused, glancing over his shoulder with a sly smile. “Now, would I ever do something like that?”

You groaned, throwing your head back. “Why did I even ask?”

His laughter echoed down the hall as he walked away, leaving you to wonder if you’d just made a mistake—or if you’d unintentionally gained his admiration. Either way, the image of Azul’s flustered expression was one you wouldn’t be forgetting anytime soon.

Jamil Viper

Jamil had long mastered the art of blending into the background, observing the world from the sidelines without drawing attention to himself. It was how he kept control, how he stayed one step ahead. But today, his usually composed exterior faltered.

He wasn’t sure what compelled him to stop by the empty classroom, but when he pushed the door open, his entire world shifted.

You were there.

Gone was the gentle, kind presence he had grown used to. Instead, you were standing atop a low table, your expression sharp and commanding, your hands sweeping through the air as if conjuring storms with your words.

"Prince Ali? Yes, it is he, but not as you know him!"

Jamil froze. Your voice was rich, dripping with mockery and power, a far cry from the sweet tone you usually used. You stalked across the small space, throwing your arms out dramatically as you continued the song, your movements perfectly embodying the calculated, theatrical confidence of the Sorcerer of the Sands himself.

"Read my lips and come to grips with reality!"

Your voice curled around the words, biting and sardonic, and Jamil felt the hairs on his arms stand on end. You were into it. Every gesture, every word carried weight, as if you were performing for an audience of thousands instead of an empty room.

He had always admired the Sorcerer of the Sands—not just for his cleverness, but for his ambition, his cunning, the way he refused to settle for the scraps the world threw him. Watching you now, it was as if you’d plucked that same spirit from the pages of a storybook and breathed it into life.

"His personality flaws give me adequate cause..."

You spun dramatically, pointing an accusatory finger at an imaginary audience, your expression fierce. For a moment, Jamil almost believed you were chastising him, and his heart skipped a beat.

He should look away. He should leave before you noticed him. But he couldn’t. He was rooted to the spot, utterly captivated.

"To send him packing on a one-way trip, so his prospects take a terminal dip!"

You ended with a flourish, holding your arms out as if soaking in invisible applause, a self-satisfied smirk curling your lips.

And then you saw him.

“Jamil?!” you yelped, nearly losing your balance in surprise.

He stepped forward, trying to look impassive even though his heart was still racing. “I didn’t mean to interrupt… whatever that was.”

Your face turned a deep shade of red. “I was just, uh, messing around! I didn’t think anyone was here.”

“That much was clear.” His voice was calm, but his eyes betrayed him. They lingered on you a moment too long, taking in the faint flush on your cheeks, the sparkle in your eyes, the way your chest rose and fell as you caught your breath.

You fidgeted, smoothing your clothes. “It’s nothing, really. Just a silly song.”

“Silly?” He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “That performance was anything but silly.”

Your embarrassment deepened. “You don’t have to mock me, you know.”

“I’m not mocking you,” he said quickly. Too quickly. He cleared his throat, glancing away. “It was… impressive. You captured the essence of the character perfectly.”

“Really?”

Jamil sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yes. The confidence, the control, the edge of menace—it was all there. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were plotting to overthrow a kingdom.”

You laughed nervously. “Guess I just got carried away.”

“Carried away...” he murmured, his gaze softening. The truth was, watching you like that had shaken something loose in him. Seeing you embody the cunning, ambitious traits he admired so deeply—it was almost too much.

“Anyway,” you said, hopping off the table. “I’ll just pretend this never happened if you will.”

Jamil smirked faintly. “As you wish.”

But as you walked past him, he couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder, watching the way you moved, still radiating the energy of the sorcerer you’d been channeling moments ago.

Masterlist

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Doing Time 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, threats, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you try to keep your brother safe in jail but put yourself in danger along the way.

Characters: con/ex-con!Steve Rogers

Note: Since' I'm vibing.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You never expected it to be like this.  

It’s still surreal to you. The frigid halls, the concrete walls, and the bulletproof barrier between you and your own brother. Despite all those troubled years, of him being lost, you just never could think he’d end up here.

On the other side of a window; where you can’t hug him, you can’t hold his hand, you can’t even poke him for being the annoying the little brother. You can only stare at him and grieve. You try not to show it. You try to be strong for him. Maybe it’s a lesson. 

You wait for the guards to bring him as you sit in the stiff chair. As you think past to the days when you and Vaughn were just kids, when his antics were harmless, it’s all so distorted. Like a dream. Like it never was. 

You remember pushing him in the swing at the park, laughing with him about jumping in puddles, but then there are the other scenes stuck on replay. The boys teasing him until he hit them. Until he held them down and filled their mouths with rocks. He wasn’t violent then, not in your mind, he was just protecting himself. Now you see, that was only the beginning of a twisted road. 

The door on the other side opens and closes. You look up and lean in, trying to see around the walls of the booth. Other inmates sit along the row, facing their own loved ones, soaking up those few minutes they can. 

Vaughn is shoved into the seat across from you. The guard hooks the chain of his coughs to the desk and pats his shoulder with an unheard warning. You sit up and grab the receiver. He does the same, reluctantly. He won’t look you in the eye. He hardly can as his left one is swollen shut, his nose is split at the bridge, and he wears a stiff neck brace. 

“What happened to you?” You gasp. 

He pokes his tongue into his cheek. He hovers the phone away from his battered face. His tattooed knuckles clench. You repeat your question. 

“A fight.” He shrugs and wince. 

“A fight? You didn’t think to tell me when I called? How—the guards--” 

“The guards don’t give a shit,” he hisses. “Just the way it is.” 

“Why--” 

“I did what I had to. Some guys in here are just looking for it.” 

“Vaughn, look at me,” you demand and lean forward. 

He closes his eyes and takes a breath. He opens them and meets your gaze. Shame twitches in his cheek. You’re the only person who calls him anything but V. He sighs. 

“I was being stupid. I ran my mouth and... shit, I woulda been killed if it was for this other guy down in Block D. Saved my neck,” he gulps. “Really, he did.” 

You frown and rub your forehead, “he saved you? Didn’t think there’d be much of that in there.” 

“Huh?” 

“Like you said, the way it is. Why would someone help?” 

His eyes dart away. For all his sneakiness, he’s never been able to lie to you. Still, he can’t admit it. 

“Who was it?” You ask. 

“Who? Why? You got friends in here?” He snorts. 

“Well, you won’t tell me why they helped, so I don’t know, Vaughn, give me something.” 

He rolls his eyes; at least, the one you can see. “Okay, okay. He’s got pull in here. He’s... been here a while. Kinda the big dog.” He sniffs and lowers his voice, “he’s got a lot of friends.” 

“You mean he’s in a gang?” 

“If that’s what you wanna call it,” he scoffs. 

“What would you call it? I’m not stupid. Someone like that doesn’t do you a favour out of the goodness of their heart, so what’s the catch? Tell me.” 

“Sis, you don’t get it. You don’t survive in here unless you got someone to watch your back.” 

You drag your hand over your head and sit back, “I know. It’s-- it’s just that sounds dangerous. Vaughn, you said you were going to learn from this.” 

“He’s not the worst,” he says. “The guy, he’s got a code. He keeps people busy so they’re not hanging around sharpening shivs. It is what it is, but it’s better than the alternative.” 

“Still punching each other in the face. Beating each other senseless,” you accuse. 

“Look, it could’ve been worse. You should’ve seen the other guy. And the one who helped me, everyone is afraid of him. I got him in my corner. You want me to make it out, that’s how.” Vaugh shifts and touches the neck brace. “And sure as shit I’m not gonna turn around and spit in his face. I owe him my life.” 

You think. He's right, you don’t know anything about being inside. And you don’t have any other suggestions. At least he has someone looking for him when you can’t. They might even be able to protect him from his own worst enemy; himself. 

Still, new allies mean new enemies. At least, going by the TV shows. You doubt those are accurate. What can you do but let him figure it out. Pray that he does. 

“Tell me who.” 

“What?” He snips. 

“Just tell me?” 

“Why?” 

“I don’t know. I’m curious. What else are we gonna talk about?” You say. 

“Yeah, guess you wouldn’t wanna hear about my cell mate’s shits,” he snickers. “Guys name is Rogers, Steve. Don’t know what got him in here but he can hold his own. He’s like a walking Ken doll. Maybe a bit forgotten but, put together.” 

“Ah, you interested?” You wonder. 

“He’s not my type. You know I’m picky.” He smirks then chuckles only to wince in pain. “Stop making me laugh.” 

“Well, I hate to put an even bigger smile on your ugly face but I did add credit to your commissary. Phone time too. You gotta call mom.” You try to roll the tension from your shoulders, “I won’t tell her about the fight but you promise to call. She’s on my ass.” 

“Thanks,” he deflates, “I... I didn’t mean to hurt her. Or you. Ya know?” 

“I know, Vaughn. There’s time,” you assure him. 

The rest of your thirty minutes is spent trying not to fixate on his bruises. It makes you sick to think about what happened; to imagine him being beat like that. You have no illusions about prison, you’re terrified, and you don’t deny it’s his own fault he’s there. None of that can change that he’s still your baby brother. 

When it’s time, you don’t want to go. The unhook his cuffs from the loop and force him up. You watch him go before you leave, escorted by a guard into the hall. 

You stop by the desk to schedule another visit. You tap the pen on the form as you think. You look up at the uniformed receptionist. 

“Can I get another form?” You ask. It’s a bad idea. 

“Sure,” she’s unfazed by the request and slides another form through the slot. You write in the time and date then pause as you try to remember the name; Steve Rogers. You don’t know his number but hopefully that doesn’t matter. 

You sign and submit both forms under the window. The guard takes them and reviews them with a quick skim of her eyes. 

“Rogers?” She reads aloud. 

“Yeah? Is that a problem?” You wonder. 

“Not my call. Needs to be approved. Even then, the inmate needs to agree,” she puts the forms next to the keyboard and types. 

“Oh, well... I guess I’ll wait and see.” 

“Not saying anything,” she drones. “It’s just... he doesn’t get visitors.” 

“How long has he been here?” You ask. 

“Can’t disclose that,” she rebuffs. “But maybe he’ll agree, just for a change in the days. Board’s the real problem.” 

“Well, thanks. I appreciate the help,” you put the pen down. “Have a good day.” 

“You too, miss.” She responds without looking away from her screen. 

You turn and drag your feet toward the doors. You kind of hope it’s denied. You’re too embarrassed to go and ask her to just shred the form after all. 

⛓️‍💥

The prison calls to confirm both visitations, not so much to your content. The more you think about it, the worse the idea seems. The man is not only a stranger, he’s a convict and a criminal. You don’t even know what he did.

And what are you going to say? Your whole intent is to thank him but now you think he might just laugh in your face. What if you make it worse? 

And you can’t not go now. If he showed up and you didn’t. If he ever finds out it has something to do with your brother, you may have just put him in danger. Oh, why don’t you think things through? Maybe you’re more like Vaughn than you care to admit. 

You drive to the facility. You check in with the guard, they do their usual search, then take you into the visitors’ bay. Your brother looks better than the last time you saw him. In better spirits too. No trouble to report, at least none he will admit. 

Your half-hour goes to fast. You remind him to call your mom, your mind wandering to your next thirty minutes. The guard tells you to stay as they take Vaughn away. You do. For fifteen whole minutes before the door signals another arrival. 

The guards lead the inmate to your booth. You look up at him shyly. He’s tall, thick arms, broad chest, muscled bound shoulders. The jumpsuit clings to him tightly as if they can’t get one to fit properly. His blonde hair is made paler by streaks of silver. His blues eyes are edged with crows feet and his already handsome face defined with the lines of his age. 

He’s older than you expect but no less intimidating. He sits, his posture unwavering, and he stares at you blankly. They hook his cuffs to the desk and leave you. There’s only expectation in his expression. He is not the one who starts conversations. 

Vaughn’s right. He doesn’t look like the typical inmate. 

You wait but he doesn’t move. You grab the receive and put it to your ear. You chew your lip as he tilts his head. He slowly reaches to pick up the one on his side. 

You gulp but can’t find your voice. You stare at him helplessly. You eke out, “hi.” 

His cheek dimples, “wasn’t expecting you. Mostly ‘cause I don’t know you.” 

“Um, uh,” you sniff and shake your head. You fidget with the cord. 

“Take a breath, sweetheart.” 

“Sweetheart?” You echo. 

“Well, you got a name?” 

You clear your throat and give your name. It steadies you, just enough. 

“You saved my brother. Vaughn.” 

He scoffs, “you’re that ugly bastard’s sister? Why on earth are you bugging me?” 

“I just... he told me what happened. I wanted to thank you for saving his life.” 

“Saving his—Is that what I did. Well, rest assured, I didn’t do it for his sake. I did it because I can use him,” he leans forward on his elbows, crossing his arms. He keeps the receiver between his shoulder and ear. 

“He’s still alive because of you,” you argue. His constant stare makes you squirm. 

“He’s alive as long as his mouth isn’t aimed at me. Let me make it clear, I hold not kinship for your brother. In fact, I was five seconds away from smashing his teeth in myself so your visit is entirely unwarranted and unnecessary.” 

You’re taken aback. Not just by his statement, but by his language. He’s eloquent. 

“I... so why did you show up?” 

“Curiosity. Boredom,” he shrugs and sits up as he grabs the phone with his hands. “Not much to do in here, in case that isn’t obvious.” 

“Well, glad I could entertain you,” you adjust the receiver then slowly move it away from your ear. 

“Hey,” his suddenness catches you. You keep the phone hovered an inch away. “Where are you going?” 

You arch your brows, “you said it yourself, this is pointless.” 

“You got time left. Might as well use it,” he counters. 

“I’m not going to sit here and be mocked, Mr.--” 

"Steve,” he chuckles, the first time his expression cracks. “Or you can use my inmate number,” he points to the digits across the left side of his chest. “You wanted this and I didn’t let them drag me here for a measly five minutes.” 

“I don’t have anything else to say to you,” you tilt the receiver away and he shows his palm, a gesture to stop you. You pause and put the speaker back to your ear. 

“We’ll figure that out along the way.” 

“Why?” 

“Sweetheart,” he pauses then says your name, “fine. Can I be honest with you? I’d like to talk to someone who doesn’t piss five inches from my bunk, anyone who isn’t trying to get something from me, who isn’t trying to stab me in the back. I thought you were a reporter, I was gonna say no. I didn’t so please, let’s keep talking.” He takes a breath and lets it out through his nose. “Let’s just have a human conversation.” 

You tweak your lips and think. You did drag him here. He stares back, placid. You’re not sure why you stay but you do. You settle in with the receiver. 

“So, where do we begin?” You ask. 

“Why don’t you? There’s not much going on in here. Not anything you’d wanna hear about.” 

“Um, okay, I don’t know...” 

“You look like a teacher? Or librarian?” He ventures. 

You squint at him. You’re not sure if it’s an insult. “Admin. For a clinic.” 

“A secretary. Close enough. You like your job?” He runs his fingers over the desk. 

You shake your head, “does anyone?” 

“I guess not. Why don’t you like it?” He waits. You have no answer. It’s still awkward. “Come on. It’s the same thing in here every day. Humour me.” 

You exhale, “alright.”

What’s the worst he can do? Laugh about the office drama? You think it’s just as silly. And you are the one who started all this. It'll be a unique experience you hope you never have to think about again.

[butchvampireheimerdinger]

The Great War

A/N: So this was made in response to a request but it ended up blossoming into a full 2K word fic adjacent and I had to split it into two posts! Anyways, if you enjoy sexy and occasionally soft Sevika, dramatic arguments that result in comfort, and mob-wife vibes… enjoy!

Warnings: Not smut but mentions of sex and both characters are D O W N B A D.. A lot of cussing and mentions of violence.

Pairing: Butch!Sevika X Femme!Reader who is super outgoing and forward

🂱 So the two of you’ve met briefly around town, kinda running in the same circles. You notice her right away but you don’t actually talk until she shows up at work — The Last Drop.

🂱 You’re a server and your charisma, magnetism, and punchy/blunt sort of energy makes you well suited to hospitality. You’re the bubbly outgoing type of waitress who gets their table laughing and in a good spirits with ur contagious good vibes.

🂱 You beat the other waitress to claim Sevika’s table, and it’s on.

🂱 She would get a kick out of it — your shamelessness. She really likes the forward thing, timidity makes her roll her eyes. Life’s too short for playing hard to get! Plus, she’s an adult. And a literal revolutionary who quite literally does not have the time for all that.

🂱 Before you learn each others names you endearingly and lightheartedly call her “butchy,” or something like that. She calls you sweetheart.

🂱 You’d pour her beers on the house. You’d lean over the bar counter on ur elbows, making sure ur titties look good and perky. And if it was just the two of you, she would not hide her ogling.

🂱 It’d be a bit of a game to you two. Making the other person crack, being the first to back down/get all blushy. You’d be all flirty-flirty over the bar counter, she’d pull you into her lap during her card game. It’s like how straight guys play gay chicken. Except ur actually gay so it would just be chicken.

🂱 And she’s smoking indoors, as per us. You ask if you can have a hit. She shotguns it into ur mouth and you blow it upward, once again drawing attention to your décolletage, to the girls hehe

🂱 Eventually she just asks you straight up if you wanna spend the night. Maybe you take her up on it, maybe you don’t. Either way, she’s not the fuckboy (fuckbutch?) hit it n quit it type. She’s an adult woman with emotional intelligence and communication skills goddammit and she’s gonna ask you to dinner.

🂱 Takes u to the fanciest place in the undercity, orders everything on the menu trying to flex her wallet and impress u. Whether or not u ask for it she gets you one of those weird rich people desserts where they make part of the preparation an “experience.” like they pour hot liquid over a hollow chocolate shell and it cracks open and reveals a little cake inside. Or something involving a blowtorch.

🂱 Anyways this whole time ur just rubbing ur lil high heeled foot up her pant leg under the table and twirling ur hair, touching her arm, etc. Naughty girl — she mock-scolds you telepathically with a dommy little eyebrow raise thing.

“Here? Now? I pull out all the stops to give you a magical evening and you already wanna leave and bang it out. That’s real classy, sweetheart.”

🂱 You’re both rather bold and upfront, obviously. Strong personalities, fire sign energy — which means you butt heads often. Your relationship is super intense and fiery so every day is like a soap opera, or like The Real Mob Wives of Staten Island in levels of drama.

“Why the hell didn’t you come home last night? And why did i have to find out from Vivi that she saw you cracking skulls in a fishing boat by the pier?”

“Babygirl I told you I was taking care of business. Sweetheart, uprisings don’t happen overnight, it’s all about biding time and strategically applying political pressure in Topside-”

“Jesus, Mary, and the goddamn camels you and your strategic goddamn pressure. I’ll tell you I’ve fucking had it with you and your fucking pressure. You wanna make me look like an idiot? When me and my girlfriends are sitting drinking mimosas for brunch at Jarrod's and they ask me ‘Y/N where’s that woman of yours?’ And i have to look them in the eyes and say “Clint Eastwood was unable to join us as she had a prior engagement strategically applying pressure. To the back of enforcers’ skulls. With a fucking baseball bat. Like a common thug. Mind you, I’m a classy lady all by my lonesome on a Sunday fucking morning-"

“Classy lady I’ll fucking say. You’d think I plan on growing old with Mrs. Fucking Vanderbilt, the way you want to buy ten thousand pairs of red high heels-“

“Omg babe you wanna grow old with me?”

“-that all look exactly the fucking same, by the way. ‘Burnt orange’ and ‘vermillion’ and ‘chartreuse’ or whatever the fuck — You know it’s just fucking red.

“Chartreuse is green, since you wanna be a smartass,”

“Don’t gaslight me, woman. Where do you even plan on wearing those? We live in an oversized sewer pipe. Not the magical land of Oz. I told you who i was when you met me. I told you this is what I do. And you better get used to it if you wanna keep charging my card at every boutique within a ten mile radius,”

“Or what? Gonna give me the spiel again, talk me to death about the uprising and the political elites and the our time is imminent, y/n. Gonna threaten me like you do your little fishing buddies? Gonna apply me some strategic fucking pressure?”

“That’s enough.” Sevika hissed, scary calm. She kicks the pantry door shut and whips around, pointing at you with her cigarette. “I’ve had enough of this shit. You’re done, Missy.”

“Beg pardon? I’ll decide when I’m done, thank you very much. You’ve got some nerve telling me when to speak when I can’t even reach you half the time. I had to track down your little boss the other day — brought him a lovely casserole — and ask if he could pass on a message for me! ‘Excuse me Mr. Scaryman Eye of Zaun, sir, could you possibly ask Zorro if she might head home as soon as she’s done busting kneecaps? And to arrive in a clean shirt, as my parents are in town and they prefer to greet their daughter-in-law when she’s not covered in someone’s intravenous blood. Thank you kindly.’”

“You showed up at work? Wait- you talked to Silco? Babe I told you to stay the fuck away from there!”

“Please. He may be the kingpin of the city or whatever, but I make a gorgeous quiche. Trust me, babe. Once he tastes my cooking, I am henceforth immune to whatever machiavellian basement torture chamber you brutes probably use as your break room.”

🂱 Sorry guys, got a little carried away there. Point is, one minute you’re screaming at each other and dramatically slamming doors and throwing shit, the next you’re fucking on the kitchen floor like the world’s about to end. You guys basically co-authored the book on how to be an absolute nightmare of an upstairs neighbor. The entire building feels the floor shaking and no one knows if the screaming is just you guys having a little too much fun for 2pm on a Tuesday, or if they’re gonna see this on the news tomorrow.

🂱 Kidding! At the end of the day, trust and loyalty are the foundations of your relationship. You love each other wildly, deeply, and passionately.

🂱 Sevika has a strict no going to bed angry policy. If you’d gotten into it that evening you might give her the cold shoulder, curl up facing away from her in the quiet moments before bed. She’s reading by the lantern on the bedside table — an upcycled barstool the two of you stole from your old job at The Last Drop one evening when you were in a particularly silly mood.

🂱 She catches your gaze a couple times as you stare over your shoulder to see if she’s paying attention to you, and then you immediately turn and go back to ignoring her. She takes off her reading glasses, tosses her book onto the bed, and rolls over to you, wrapping her arm around you from the back.

“Hey baby?” She kisses your shoulder and the back of your head since you still won’t look at her, and she continues. “Love of my life? Light of my world? Keeper of my soul and partner in crime through the sea of trials we call the fucked-up game of life?” You turn slightly to give her a glaring side eye.

“…What do you want.”

“Still mad at me, babygirl?”

“Not at all. Why on earth would I be mad?”

“I’m sorryyy,” she draws it out, cooing at you all soft and sing-songy. If the ne’erdowells who often got their asses handed to them by her and her little team could see this Sevika, they’d think they lost their mind. Hell, if any punk on the street could see this Sevika they’d think they lost their mind. It made your knees weak the way she undid herself and softened for you. For only you. You fought the smile forming and she continued murmuring against your skin.

“It’s all this bullshit at work Silco’s got me taking care of. I’m neglecting my little lady, I’m stretched so thin. It’s too much…”

“Too much…?” You echo. “Talk to me, love. Silco’s not letting you catch a breather?”

She grunts in affirmation against your shoulder: “Mm-hrmm”

“Does my baby have the whooole wide world on her poor, tired, buff, strong, sexy shoulders-EEK!” She gleefully flips you over to face her, making you cackle. You’ve been disarmed. At her mercy. You always were.

She leans forward to bonk her forehead against yours.

“Glad someone in this cruel world finally understands me and my line of work,” she says, half-joking.

“No one understands the importance of your job better than me, babe.” You continue, at this point unable to remove the sarcasm from your tone even if you tried. She nuzzles into the crook of your shoulder facedown, head supported by the cushiness of your tit. You weave your fingers in her hair.

“The honorable burden of great duty… The unfathomable smothering of moral obligation, even. One might describe it as an immensely… strategic pressure-”

“-For FUCK’s SAKE”

“You have worker’s rights, you know! Demand an hour off — paid — in your underground torture chamber-breakroom. You’re entitled to relax and sip coffee as you watch the bodies hit the floor, goddammit!”

Feigning exasperation, Sev dramatically collapses backward starfish-style on the old-ass creaky-ass decrepit-ass daddy longlegs convention of a double bed the two of you share; in a shithole apartment, in a shady-ass neighborhood, in a collapsing city. That’s how it was between the two of you. Underneath it all, she trusts that you’ll always be there to kiss her wounds, to make sure her collar is straight and there’s no shmutz on her face. You trust that at the end of the day, it’s you she’s coming home to.

[mrsfancyferrari]

MASTERLIST - F1

🕊️┆Latanya ， 라타냐 — she ִ ࣪𖤐 ˖ ✦ › entj-t 𓂃 ★ @lando's 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹

Into It Chase Atlantic ♥︎ ⇄ ◁◁ 𝚰𝚰 ▷▷ ↻ ⁰⁰'²⁵ ━━●─────── ⁰³'¹⁶

Lando Norris - "Little Lando"

More Kisses? - LN4 + “One kiss is just never enough.”

This Christmas - LN4 + “There’s no way I’m letting you spend Christmas alone.”

Want You - LN4 + "But I don't want them, I want you." 🥧🏈

I'm All Yours - You and Lando have been in the talking stage for some months now. After Lando's third win, he knows he's missing something important. You being his girlfriend.

My Type - where the reader thinks she isn’t Lando’s type

Our Love Is Strong - You weren't going to let your eating disorder destroy your relationship until it did.

Good Luck Kiss - Lando is a fully independent guy until you are around.

First Choice - Lando and the Reader have been best friends since they were babies. Lando has been in love with the Reader since he was a teenager, which is why he has never had a serious relationship.

Gold in Snow - you and lando are in a relationship but you're reserving hate comments about you being a ginger, with freckles because the fans don't think you're his type

Sweet Pain - lando just took his wisdom tooth out and you, his best friend, was assigned to take care of him at home

Oscar Piastri

Mistletoe Magic - OP81 + “What are you doing with that mistletoe– oh.”

Baby Fever - OP81 + babysitting a child

24 Hours Without You - A dare from Lando led to Oscar not having any contact from you for 24 hours. Well he tried to.

My Husband - when you accidently called Oscar your husband, you didn't think it would affect him that much

Max Verstappen - "Mad Max"

Teach Me - MV1 + “I never had any special tradition for the holidays while growing up,"

My Priority - MV1 + "You're my priority." 🍂🦃

Birthday Boy - It's getting to Max's birthday and you know what he wants for it.

Love Sick - You and Max have been together for a while and you knew he loved you but you didn't know to what extent.

Favourite Smell - a pilot with max and it ends up in smut like "I love your smell" +18

Timeless Desire - You had always been Mercedes fan since you were young and it didn't change when you became Max's best friend. Based on British Grand Prix.

Power Couple - Max Verstappen and the Reader have been friends since childhood and started dating when they were 15. The Reader is currently the number one ranked tennis player, with 2 Wimbledon titles, 3 French Open titles, and 2 Australian Open titles to her name. She is the best in women's singles and doubles tennis at the moment.

Don't Stop - "The problem is, if I kissed you, I don't think I'd be able to stop."

Daniel Ricciardo - "Honey Badger"

Fragments of Hope - You had an argument with Daniel and you decided to leave him for a while. What you didn't know is that he can't live without you.

Birthday Boy - It's Daniel's birthday and you two are still oblivious to your feelings. Time for the grid's help.

Charles Leclerc - "Lord Perceval"

Winter Wonder - CL16 + Winter Power Outage

You Know Me Best - Charles has a bad day and you as his best friend always knows what he wants, but do you really? +18

Just One Kiss - You & Charles are just best friends but when he wins in his home for the first time, things might change

Speak Baby - you are going out with Charles, you can speak his language, but don't tell him. You were hiding your abilities due to an insecurity about your ability.

Lose my Mind - “The way your eyes get darker when you get aroused, is making me lose my mind.” +18

Carlos Sainz Jr. - "Chilli"

Christmas Ball - CS55 + fake dating for a Christmas party/ball

Happy Ever After - a Romeo and Juliet vibe

Golf Gurl - an AU where Carlos is attracted to the new receptionist at the golf course he and Papa Sainz frequent

Destiny's Will - You and Carlos were childhood friends until you two were separated before he got to F1. The next time they meet, they're enemies.

More Amor - you are going out with Carlos, you can speak his language, but you don't tell him. You were hiding your abilities due to an insecurity about your ability.

Heavy Love - Carlos got a surgery of his appendix but that doesn't stop him from treating his girl how he usually does +18

Lewis Hamilton - "Billion Dollar Man"

NY Kisses - LH44 + New Year Kisses

Birthday Wishes - LH44 + Birthday Wishes

His Feast - LH44 + slow feasting on you +18

George Russell - "Mr. Saturday"

Start Something - GR63 + "Don't start something you can't finish." 🥧🏈

My Darling - Out of all the things George says over the years, there's one word that still makes you blush.

Kimi Antonelli - "Max's Successor"

Italian Lessons - You're trying to learn Italian again and what a better way to learn than to get your best friend's best friend to teach you.

Franco Colapinto

Dancing on Ice - FC43 + “I can’t ice skate amor, I’ll break all my bones.”

Distract You - FC43 + "Let me distract you."

Sleep Good - Charles/ Lewis/ Carlos (separately)

You could write a driver x reader where while they make love and the reader falls asleep because they work too much and the driver laughs. +18

Lando Norris - "Little Lando"

Our Doggie - Part 1 - Part 2

After McLaren let you watch your boyfriend interact with the animals from the Battersea. One dog found a clear interest in you instead....

Carlos Sainz Jr. - "Chilli"

Real Love - Part 1 - Part 2

You and Carlos were just supposed to be a PR couple for less than a year but someone decided to catch feelings....

Charles Leclerc - "Lord Perceval"

A Lover's Touch - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

In a world of where soulmates can be found easily, Charles was struggling a lot to find his one....

Max Verstappen - "Mad Max"

Need Saving - Save You - We're Saved - My Saviour

You are the first woman to be racing in Formula 1 and you and Max are already best friends. To Jos' dismay.....

A Second Chance?

Episode 1 - Episode 2 - Episode 3 - Episode 4 - Episode 5 - etc...

You came to Love Island to find true love after your ex left your life in chaos. you didn't think you would find it so easy....

Lewis Hamilton - "Billion Dollar Man"

Wild Imagination - Show You Domination

You were just an interviewer for the Met Gala when you were able to meet the Sir Lewis Hamilton.....

Marriage of Convenience

Episode 1 - Episode 2 - Episode 3 - Episode 4 -

Lewis has to get married to you for a year for his engagement in Ferrari. Who knew how much he would get sucked into your life….

Source: cafekitsune

[bowsandsturniolos]

pairing: sub!chris x soft!dom!reader

warnings: smut, dirty + sweet talk, hand job, begging, no actual p in v, teasing, edging, oral, no use of y/n, dry humping, use of vibe, pet names (baby, sweetheart, good boy, ma, etc).

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

you're on chris's lap, his boner poking into your thigh. you let out a shaky sigh, your resolve slowly crumbling more and more.

"chris, your brothers are home. this isn't.. no." you mumble, for some reason still trying to reason with him, knowing damn well he won't break.

"please, ma? i need you. s-so.. fuck. so bad." he whispers, rutting his hips up. your tongue runs along your inner cheek as you stare at the wall, thinking.

if you're honest, you don't really feel like having sex right now. but you still want to get chris off. you glance over at the needy boy trapped between your thighs.

"can you stay quiet?" you ask casually, cocking an eyebrow. you know damn well he can't. but maybe he'll try.

"yes, ma. i'll.." he swallows. "i'll be good. i'll be.. quiet." his breathing is labored, his stomach already heaving. you haven't layed a finger on him.

"take your clothes off." he shudders but wastes no time, immediately tugging down his red shorts, along with his white tee, leaving him in his red boxers, a prominent bulge tenting the crotch.

"those too." you say sternly, lifting your shirt over your head and tugging down your shorts, leaving you in just your panties and bra, which are a matching cherry red.

he slips off his boxers, pooling at his ankles. his cock springs free, flushed tip dripping with precum, shaft throbbing, veiny, and thick. you lick your lips at the sight.

you climb over him, hovering above him, lips inches from his.

"now, chris. what made you think you could be begging me all day to fuck you? whinin' in my ear like a fuckin slut." you grumble.

he looks away with flushed cheeks, his eyes full of shame. you grab his chin, forcing him to look at you again.

"i'm sorry!" he splutters, avoiding eye contact. "i've just.. been so hard for you all day i.. i need you mama."

"so what is it that you want, chris?" you coo, biting back a mischievous grin.

"i- i want you to.. to make me cum. please. i'm.. it hurts ma. i'm so hard i need.. i need help." he pants.

"be careful what you wish for." you say with a grin, pressing your lips to his before crawling back down his body.

you stop once your mouth is level with his standing dick. you smile, getting on your knees between his already spread legs.

you wrap your hand around his base, kissing his tip with purposeful pressure. his head throws back.

"nnngghh-" he whimpers out. you grin, latching your lips around his pretty pink tip, never once looking away from his bright red face.

your tongue swirls clean and precise circles over his leaking tip, the beads of precum leaving a salty and enjoyable taste behind.

he's gasping for air, stomach already heaving, white-knuckling his bed sheets. he's biting his lip so hard you think it might bleed, trying desperately not to make a sound, since his brothers are home.

you pull off and his grip loosens on the sheets, stomach muscles relaxing. he looks back down at you with furrowed eyebrows. "why.. why'd you stop?"

you smile. "don't worry sweetheart. gimme just a sec." you coo. "just cover your eyes for me, baby."

he does just that, breath shaky. you open your nightstand drawer, pulling out a vibrator.

"keep your eyes shut honey." you coo. you carefully climb between his legs and to his standing dick, very carefully switching it onto the lowest setting, praying he doesn't hear it.

when he has no reaction, you press the round end of the vibrator to his tip. he lets out a strangled moan, moving his hands from his eyes to grip the bed sheets.

"i didn't tell you you could uncover your eyes, did i?" you whisper into his ear. his eyes are screwed shut from pleasure anyway, but he's still disobeying you.

"cover your eyes like i told you to. and don't move them unless i say." and with that, you turn the vibrator up to the highest setting, grab his base, and press it to his tip.

he lets out strangled moans, kicking his feet, curling his toes. his stomach caves in like a juice box that a little kid ran dry.

you can tell it's too much, but he never once complains. he doesn't trust his own voice right now. you swirl the vibrator around his head.

he gasps at the change in sensation. precum leaks down his buzzing shaft. suddenly, you get an idea. you turn the vibrator off, to which he whimpers and kicks his feet. you knew he was close.

you immediately drop down on him, taking him fully in your mouth. you swirl your tongue around him a few times, making him whimper and whine, eyes still covered.

you pull off just about an inch, switching on the vibrator. you hold it to the base of his cock, sending vibrations all throughout his dick.

you swallow around his now vibrating dick. he lets out uncontrollable whines, moans, whimpers and pleas. you continue to suck him off with the vibrator until he's rutting into your mouth.

once he's about to cum, you remove your mouth and vibrator. he cries out, whimpering. "n-no! wha-!? mama, please.. i- i was so good! i-" he begs.

"i know, baby. it's just not time for you to cum yet. you can open your eyes." he removes his hands from his face, revealing the tears of pleasure and frustration streaming out.

you grin. he looks pathetic. and that's exactly how you like him. you straddle him, hovering over him. you take his cock and pin it to his tummy, his underside facing you. you lick a stripe up his underside.

he lets out a gargled moan. you sit on his base, your lace covered cunt on top of the underside of his cock, pinning it to his tummy, tip sitting right above his belly button.

"wha.. w-what're you doin ma?" he asks timidly.

"whatever i want to. now sit back and feel." he nods. you start to grind your hips on him. he moans, eyes shutting and fingers gripping the sheets.

you run your hands all over his tummy. you've always loved his tummy. it's so fun to kiss, bite, suck, leave hickeys on.

you've also always loved that he doesn't have a literal six pack, the slight stomach pooch that he has makes you wet every time you look at it.

you start to rub circles over his tip. he ruts his hips up, this whole time letting out strangled whines and moans.

this goes on for a couple minutes before he screams suddenly. "m'gonna cum!" his eyes screw shut, back arching.

you begin to coo sweet nothings. "yeah? you gonna cum all over this pretty tummy of yours, your gonna cum all over yourself baby. yeahhhh, that's right." you hum softly, rubbing circles over his inflamed tip.

"nnnghh-!" and then he cums. his back arches as he cries out, his warm white seed shooting out all over his stomach. you drool at the sight, heat pooling in your core, wishing he'd came on your stomach instead.

"good boy.. look at you. all messy for me.. yeah.." you coo sweetly, still grinding on him, rubbing his tip.

"mmph- that's.. ma i'm done." he whispers, starting to get overstimulated. you grin.

"ohhh, baby. you thought you were done?" you chuckle, grabbing the vibrator.

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

author's note: hey yall! i haven't made a fic in a while so im a bit rusty, but i hope you guys enjoyed! love yall sm! with love, bows, and sturniolos. 💗🎀

@whore4mattsturniolo @evie-sturns @rysturns @sweetshuga @sturnsvelocity @emely9274

[cxvii666]

i'm thinking about pre-pre-relationship college au! hanta sero x reader

based on something shit i wrote back in december

......

you meet denki in intro to digital design, where he spends more time doodling dicks in the margins of his sketchbook than actually paying attention to your lecturer.

at first, you kind of hate him.

not in a real way. more in the way you hate people who are too loud too early in the morning. he’s always snickering with momo and jirou in the corner, whispering shit under his breath, flicking highlighters across the room. he’s got two ear piercings and the confidence of someone who’s never known silence. and he’s pretty, too—like glitter-in-the-sink, fake-lash-pretty. so you assume, naturally, that he’s mean.

until you get paired with him for your end of year project and learn he’s not mean. he’s just... kind of an idiot.

“wait, so like... do i press the on button to turn it on?” he asks, blinking at you like a confused golden retriever, laptop open and completely dead.

you stare at him. “yes. that’s literally what it’s for.”

and he lights up. “sick.”

the thing is, he grows on you.

slowly, like mold on bread. like a weird stain on your hoodie you don’t notice until you’re already out in public.

he’s just—he’s funny. so fucking funny. and even when he’s being dumb, he’s the kind of dumb that takes feedback really well. he lets you boss him around, lets you make him reprint things when the margins are off. and when you’re sketching, he just sits there cross-legged on the floor, humming some song that doesn’t exist, while eating crisps directly from a multipack bag like a child.

you spend so much time in his room that mina starts making comments.

she finds you both half-dead one tuesday evening—denki face down in his notebook, drooling into a smudged pen drawing of what might be a horse, and you curled up on his bed with a pencil tucked behind your ear and absolutely no thoughts behind your eyes.

she blinks. “you guys look like stem zombies.”

you croak something like “we’re fine,” but she’s already shaking her head.

“you should come out with us tonight,” she says, bright-eyed and dangerous. “pub night. field research. vitamin d. serotonin. vibes.”

and for some reason—maybe because your hand’s cramping, maybe because you like how she speaks in key words, or maybe because denki makes a whining noise like he wants to go too—you say yes.

you regret it instantly.

too many people. too many voices. you finish your drink and slip outside for a smoke, hoodie-less, already annoyed at yourself for leaving it at denki’s.

you dig through your pockets for a lighter that isn’t there. great. of course. of course.

you sigh, quietly. the air’s a little too cold, your boots scuff against sticky pavement, and you can already feel your hormones bubbling like some kind of cursed potion—your period’s probably coming. or maybe it’s already here. either way, everything is suddenly too much.

and then—

“d'you need a light?”

you turn.

he’s leaning against the balcony railing, one foot crossed over the other, hoodie sleeves shoved up to his elbows. tall. soft-eyed. familiar in the way that makes your brain stall for a second.

sero hanta.

you’ve never actually spoken to him, but you’ve seen him. through denki’s phone, in the edges of instagram stories. heard him in the background—someone laughing, someone yelling from the hallway. he’s the manga in denki’s bag. the crocs by the bathroom door. the one bakugou kicks the toilet for, swearing about tape and water pressure.

“oh—um. yeah. if you don’t mind.”

he smiles and tosses you his lighter. you fumble it a bit, embarrassed.

“keep it,” he says. “you’re denki’s friend who makes him take the trash out, right?”

you laugh. a little mortified, a little flattered. “guilty.”

“doing the lord’s work.”

you nod solemnly. “it’s a thankless job.”

and somehow, you end up staying outside with him for two hours. just talking. just being.

he’s funny in a quiet way, all dry humor and easy grins. and you’re laughing, like real laughing—not the polite kind you do in class when someone makes a joke you don’t get. he listens when you talk. he doesn’t make it weird. he leans closer when you say something dumb, like he’s trying to catch it just right.

your cheeks hurt. your chest feels weird.

and then, as if summoned by the universe to ruin everything, denki’s voice cuts through the night like a kazoo.

“awh, you guys finally met, how cuuute~”

you both groan in unison.

“god, i hate when he does that voice,” you mutter.

“for real,” sero agrees, scrunching his nose. “it’s so annoying.”

you glance over at him, still smiling, and your heart hiccups a little.

and that’s how it starts.

not loud. not explosive.

just two burnt-out students on a pub balcony, sharing a lighter, and quietly orbiting into each other’s lives.

[sanesaviour]

Danny☀️

Here are some headcanons about him and other characters:

1. He spend most of his life in K’un Lun, so living in New York is big culture shock for him, feels like different universe for him and at first he was really struggling with New Yorks pace (like K’un Lun is definition of patience and peace while New York is complete chaos), he is still learning how juggle his superhero duties, training and just living in such a chaotic city without feeling overwelmed. Also the technology and social media is wild west for him, even tho he tries really hard to understand it better and is really interested in modern technology he always ends up in situarions like: ,,why is my phone working so slow?” Turns out he has open like 100 tabs… but somehow he is really good at using his mp3 player (he really loves music and has very questionable taste in it)

2. He is super chill about everything, he have that laid-back attitude and also fashion, like he wears very loose comfy clothes and tries to just blend in (he fails) and I like to think like he is popular at school but on accident and he doesn’t even realize it coz everyone just like how chill he is all the time. Most of his teammates are jealous of this and he doesn’t get why, he is just too clueless

3. Vegan (I thought this was just my headcannon but after starting S2 turns out it’s actually cannon in show too lol)

4. Danny is fist one to accept Peter as new teammate but also as friend, he is only one who has beenkind to him since beggining, they are really good friends even tho most of the time they are alone together they don’t talk just vibe together

5. Danny teaches Luke how to be more book smart and luke teaches danny street smarts, they are best bros actually and later ends up on lot of missons together. And I feel like Luke likes to joke about Danny’s fancy origins like: “Did you learned this moves while sipping on some mystical tea and writing poetry?” Danny never gets those are jokes and is always like: “yea, how did you know? :D”

6. Ava and Danny both likes to read, they both can go hours withour saying anything and just reading next to each other… others likes to point out that they are like grandparents when they do that, also I think being disturbed while reading only thing that can get danny out of his chill guy mood. While Ava does that “shhhhh” thing while being disturbed Danny just stare at them with really cold and done expression which says: are you gonna shut up?

7. Sam is the one who actually teaches Danny about modern technologies and stuff. He also gives Danny nicknames like for example Zen guy… he likes to make fun of him but he secretly admires how cool Danny can be with his whole mystical vibe around him and on the other other hand Danny admires Sam’s jokes and even sarcasm (when he finally gets the whole concept about it) and is very fast to learn those skills from him (Peter thinks Sam is ruining him lol)

8. Okay this one is bit awkward but I think lot I can’t be the only one who thought about this… so I remember during history classes it was mentioned multiple times that most monks practice celibacy and some of them don’t even come to contact with woman for most of their life’s… SO- I think that at beginning Danny don’t really think about relationships, don’t mind spending time with someone of opposite gender, he views men and women as equals and he doesn’t feel any attraction to anyone, he is very focused on training… ofc due to his “popularity” some people try to hit on him but again he is clueless about it, but at some point someone will make it very obvious that they are into him and he will do nothing about it but this moment will start his overthinking literally every human interaction phase and internal morality fight like he really would like to experience date but his mind is always like “why are you thinking about this? You are such a disgrace to K’un Lun!!!” Also he would go from talking w everyone same way to being speechless and all flustered around opposite gender… once that would happened even with Ava and her first thought about it would be something like he have some problem with her so she wouldn’t let him be until he tells her what’s wrong with him, so basically she would force him to spill the truth… then she would just laugh and make puns about it really often in front of others and he always tries to stop her so it looks like it’s some stupid inside joke of theirs which no one else gets

[psychotic-nonsense]

It's happening again.

With Max, it's attempting new tricks on her skateboard. With Dustin, he takes apart and reassembles basic little trinkets. With Nancy, she rewrites old news articles. With Mike, he reorganizes the D&D dice box he's been carrying everywhere since Will left (and even after he came back). With the Sinclairs, it's spinning something - a basketball or pen or keychain or hair tie.

The loud music isn't uncommon, nor where it's coming from. But where the source is, and what kind of music it is, feels like something reserved for times like this.

Steve wasn't supposed to be out here, technically. He's on his lunch break, and he wanted a change of pace from the Family Video parking lot. He drove out to the edge of town - Keith doesn't give much of a damn how long their breaks are anymore - to find that cliff only he really knows how to get to. Helps that his Beemer is like a second heartbeat.

But on his way out, he hears the music.

How the hell Eddie got his van out this far into the woods, Steve's never gonna figure out. But there's loud ass music coming from it that's different to Eddie's usual type. More replicable, mainly, something that sounds like an actual song yet still has Eddie's whole screamy vibe. As Steve gets closer - having parked by the road just outside the woods - he can hear another voice singing along with their full chest.

That's when he realized what it is.

It's that violent restlessness. The buzzing feeling in, under, becoming every inch of your skin. Paralyzes you from doing anything substantial, yet everything else you try to do doesn't make the feeling fade. So you're stuck in a repetitive motion while stuck in place and it feels like exploding from the inside with nothing bursting out.

Most of The Party gets it bad nowadays, since the Upside Down was sealed away. Years of living on the brink of death to suddenly being plopped back into the mundane. Steve especially got it from the lack of sports, which worsened the Upside Down buzz.

Steve knocks on the van's back door, hoping it drowns out the music to not startle his friend too badly. He tries the door, which opens easily, and floods the woods with guitars and drums and voices.

Eddie doesn't startle, but neither does he move. He's laying down on the floor of the back, the precautionary blankets there all twisted up and scattered about in evidence of motion. One hand is tugging hard at the roots of his hair, the other snapping hard along with the music. One leg is bent up and bouncing, and his chest heaves in an attempt to keep up with Eddie's shout-along singing.

"Yeah, you said a single word,

But no one really heard,

Sometimes we scream alone!

It's always worse at night,

When darkness kills the light,

You're in the danger zone!"

It irks Steve in just the wrong way, seeing Eddie frozen like this. Gets him to leave the door open, walk around to the stereo sitting in the passenger seat, and hit the thing silent.

"What?" Eddie snaps immediately. The van rocks as he sits up.

Steve ignores him, just walking back around to the back to smack the side of the van. Noise will keep Eddie stable in this state. Eddie, who's staring at Steve with that adrenaline-fueled glare, jaw tense, sharp where he doesn't mean to be. Steve makes his words stern, to cut through the buzz no doubt rushing through Eddie's ears. "Up. I'm getting you out of here."

"'M fine," Eddie bites back, flopping straight back down with a bang he doesn't feel. One of his hands goes back to his hair.

Steve just reaches down to grab the end of one of those blankets, tugging hard. Eddie just moves an inch, but he flails like the bat tails are back around his ankle. He sits back up, eyeing Steve with a malice he can't mean. It's Eddie and he never does, not even when he's high on fight or flight.

Steve just nods to the outside world, repeating, "I mean it. Come on."

Eddie's jaw tenses just a bit more, before he rolls his eyes and scoots to hop out. Steve backs up, lets Eddie jump out of the van with too much motion, slam the doors shut and pat them in a goodbye both too hard, lets Eddie grip his leather jacket too tightly as he leads the two of them back to the Beemer. The snapping comes back a few minutes in, but Steve leaves it be.

Doesn't pick on Eddie not wiping his shoes, nor for slamming these doors shut or not buckling. The police has had more to worry about them than some unsafe driving. Steve just turns the radio up a bit too loud, leaves the snapping alone, and drives them along the edge of town.

He stops when they get to the junkyard. Doesn't say anything, just gets out and goes straight to the trunk. He hears Eddie follow him outside as Steve gets the not-nailed bat from the back, then slamming the trunk shut to keep Eddie's attention (no matter how much it and the slam prior hurt his soul).

Steve walks past Eddie into the heart of the junkyard. He spins the bat, scanning the ground, and finding an old can-looking thing. He picks it up, tossing it into the air a few times.

Then he tosses it once more, rears back, and hits the shit out of it.

The loud crinkling of metal and crack of wood creates an echo that slices through the residual buzz forming in Steve. He watches it fly haphazardly in the air, spinning randomly before landing on an old car, another echo to cut the buzz.

Eddie doesn't react verbally, but that's fine. Steve just finds something else - a piece of tire - and hits it too. Does the same to a crumpled sheet of metal, then another can-shaped thing. Feels the buzz get torn to pieces with every satisfying echo and vibration of conflicting action coursing through his veins on each hit.

When Steve finally turns to see Eddie's reaction, it's just the snapping fingers to really get his attention. Everything else about Eddie's body language says confused, curious, hungry.

His body still screams, and here it sees something that will listen.

So Steve holds the bat out by the barrel, handle to Eddie, and waves it at the junkyard around them. "Go ahead," he urges.

Eddie eyes it confused for a moment, but he eventually pushes off the side of the Beemer he was leaning against. Makes it to Steve with steps that still feel too hard, but takes the bat. Stares at it, spins it once to get the feel, but still hesitant.

Steve walks past him to retake that place on the Beemer. Eddie watches him go, still confused.

As Steve settles in, he motions again to the open empty junkyard. "Who's going to hear you?" he says.

'Only who you want to hear you,' goes unsaid.

Eddie blinks at Steve a few times more, then down at the bat. Spins it again, looks around. He spots something, stomps over to it, picks it up. A can. Tosses it up once, nearly doesn't catch it.

He looks around again, goes to a car beside him. Sits the can on the hood, steps back. Gets into a stance that feels at once natural and amateur, but Steve doesn't dare.

Because Eddie hits the can and it goes flying, with a crunch that gets Eddie to laugh a little.

Now he's really moving, looking around for something more. More metal, plastic, rubber, anything he can feasibly hit and some things he can't. It gets heavier, harder, doesn't go as far but that means the impact is in rather than out. Cuts through the buzz like nothing.

Soon Eddie takes off his leather jacket and really gets going. He's looking for glass and throwing it far and hard, feeling every shatter in his own insides. Grabs the bat again, starts hitting the vehicles, smashing the windows in further. Drops the bat again, finding unbreakable things and throwing them on the ground, on cars, against other smaller things. Looks like he's going ballistic but it's just the energy finally finding freedom and release in something.

Steve watches it all with prideful satisfaction.

Eddie digs through a pile of rubble, grabbing something evidently interesting. It's stuck, it's difficult, but that manic energy is nothing but insistent. Eddie eventually pulls it out, a rusted old metal chair far heavier than it seems. But Eddie just laughs at the challenge.

He picks up one end, and starts fucking spinning. One heel barely keeping him balanced, he spins and spins and spins. The chair gets lighter, his arms rise with the momentum. And finally, with a growl as cathartic as the destruction, Eddie throws the chair into a car, watching it shatter the glass and dent the metal in a loud bash of sound and noise and release.

This, it seems, is what finally curbs the buzzing. Eddie slumps over with the action, panting and laughing a little. He stumbles to the side, barely losing his footing in time to catch the side of that infamous bus and flop to the dirt beside it. He's panting and breathless and red in the face, but ultimately... satisfied.

Steve resigns himself to the bucket beside Eddie. Leans back against the rusted metal that saved his kids' lives, handing Eddie a water bottle from the storage in his trunk. Eddie takes it with an especially rough huff. Steve takes it as the thank you he knows it is.

Eddie gulps down a quarter of the bottle, spills another quarter on himself on accident. He leans his head back to stare at the sky, panting in relief.

"How... the hell did you know...?" he eventually gets out, still not looking at Steve.

Steve just stares at the patch of grass in the center of their little courtyard, forever greener from the cutlets that rotted there. Shrugs. "Just a hunch."

----------

2/4/25 Edit: Adding in some lyrics from "Breathless" by Dio (1984) thanks to the lovely suggestion by @finalmoondragon !!!!! Everything is the exact same as the original post the only difference is the lyrics :]

[inotakumagf]

strange magic

✶ geto suguru x faerie princess! reader

word count ✺ 9K

summary ✺ you were supposed to marry your fiancé and take on the title of Faerie Queen, but somehow you ended miles from your kingdom, injured, and at the mercy of the Cursed Spirit King. oh how far you’ve fallen from grace.

warning ✺ fem! reader, hurt & then comfort and then hurt & then comfort, descriptions of injuries. i put mc through so much im sorry. very very inspired by strange magic, that movie altered my entire life trajectory. enemies-to-lovers, but they never end up kissing oops but the love is there. also i made a pinterest board to visualize the vibe im going for! reblogs & comments are very appreciated, i really want to know how y’all feel abt this one :D

You’ve never been more in love. The feeling consumes every bone and every crevice of your body. It leaves you a giggling, delighted mess, one that your servants can only roll their eyes at. But it pleases them to know that their darling crown princess has found a lover who cherishes her so much. Your love makes you careless, and it drives your personal guards mad.

Your guards, Shoko and Gojo, are dragged along behind you for each “secret” meeting between you and your fiancé. They have to listen to you read love letters aloud and sigh over your lover. But they are the only two people who can tease you about it. Their favorite activity is dramatically acting out your behavior, practically throwing themselves on top of each other as they laugh at you. You don’t mind. You prefer them and their teasing over the servants that can’t even look you in your eyes. 

As the crown princess of your faerie kingdom, there are innate responsibilities you owe to your parents and to your people. First and foremost, you are a symbol of strength against the bordering faerie domain. While your kingdom prospers thanks to the magic of the large willow tree at its center, the kingdom that borders it is a dark, decaying forest. You’re forbidden from going anywhere near it, and that is perfectly fine with you. Where your kingdom is full of life, the other brings nothing but death.

Your marriage is another responsibility of yours. You’d been opposed to it all your life. The idea of forfeiting your heart and your independence to a man and inevitably for children has been your greatest point of disagreement with your parents. You love them, and they’ve never pushed you into anything, but they’re never silent about how much it disappoints them. It made no sense to you, not until you met Naoya.

He had been enamored by you since the moment you’d been introduced to the Zen’in clan. You’d turned your nose at him time after time, but your proximity and his persistence had made you see him differently. And now, with your wedding only three days away, there’s nothing you would change. 

“Naoya!” You flutter down to where he stands by the base of the willow tree. Shoko and Gojo trail behind you, and if you could guess, they’re probably mocking you. 

Naoya turns at the call of his name. A charming smile graces his face, and he opens his arms to pull you into a hug. He takes your hand in his and places a soft kiss to your knuckles. “Princess,” he greets. Your heart flutters. You are undeniably weak to his charms.

He places a small rosebud in your hair and ushers you alongside him. “Come. I want to take you somewhere.”

He leads you to a field of colorful tulips. Garden faeries are working their magic on the surrounding land, but Naoya pulls you inside the patch of flowers. Sunlight reflects off of the flower petals, causing colorful light to shine around you. 

“I can’t wait to marry you, my beloved,” he says, leaning forward to kiss you. 

You pull away, a mischievous glint in your eyes. His eyes fly open, and he stares at you with furrowed brows. You tap his nose and fly backwards. “You have to earn the kiss. Let’s see if you can catch me, hm?”

You weave your way through the stems of the tulips, shrieking in delight as Naoya playfully chases after you. You’re good at running from him, but he eventually catches up to you. He twirls you around once he’s got you in his arms. You laugh and run your fingers through his hair.

He smirks at you. “So about that kiss?”

Gojo calls for you then from the respectful distance he and Shoko have given you. You turn towards them, just then realizing the council meeting you were meant to attend. Before you can move, Naoya pulls you closer.

“Meet me here after your meeting, okay? I want to see you again,” he whispers in your ear.

You smile at him. “My guards are going to hate you for the work you put them through.”

Naoya grins back. “Let them hate me. But…come without your guards. I want to be alone with you.”

You bit your lip at the thought of breaking Gojo and Shoko’s rule for you. But your desire wins out. “Okay, but if we get caught, I’ll blame you.”

The entire meeting, you can’t help but think about your promised plans with Naoya. Your hand constantly finds the rosebud in your hair, almost nervous at the prospect of being alone with him. You’ve almost always had a chaperone present, and if Naoya wants to see you alone…it makes you heat up all over.

On your way back to your room after the meeting, you think of how you can escape Gojo and Shoko’s careful watch. They have never let you out of their sight, and they would certainly never agree to let you out on your own. No matter how often you remind them that no one has ever or would ever try to hurt you, they take the matter of your safety more seriously than you do. Gojo is the fiercest soldier in the Queen’s army, and he’s proven himself time and time again with his loyalty and his skill. Shoko’s strength is gentler than her friend’s. She is the most profound healer in generations, and her ability to comfort you on such a personal level carries so much value for you. You trust the two with your life, and you feel so guilty for lying to them like this.

When you get right in front of your door, you pause and turn to face your guards. They stop just before bumping into you, and you want to laugh at the look of surprise on Gojo’s face. You lean back against your door.

“I’m going to be having dinner with Naoya later tonight, so I need to rest beforehand. Don’t wake me until then, alright? Thank you, bye!”

Once you’re safe inside your room, you start getting ready to see Naoya. You wear a petal dress in a pale yellow shade, because it has a peach orange center that Naoya loves. You paint your lips with a berry stain and rub fresh rose water over your skin. You stare at yourself in the mirror for longer than necessary before deciding that there’s nothing else to do. You place your pillows under your blanket and adjust it so that it looks like your sleeping form. Once that’s done, you fly straight out the open window, careful to avoid the sight of anyone who might be looking up into your chambers. 

When you get to the tulip field, your heart flutters when you see Naoya already waiting for you. Before you can fly down to greet him, a faerie you don’t know flies over to him and leaps into his arms. 

You jerk backwards, mind refusing to believe what you’re seeing. Naoya glances around briefly before pulling her closer. He twirls the faerie around in his arms, identically to how he held you this morning. You try to breathe in and out slowly, trying to keep yourself from crying. But it becomes impossible when he dips her and kisses her deep and passionately. You have to press your hand over your mouth to stop a gasp from ripping through you. You want to leave, but you just can’t seem to look away. 

She leans up and wraps her arms around his neck, tucking her face against him. “Naoya. I haven’t seen you in so long.”

He sighs. “I know, darling. But you know how impossible it is to be rid of that bitch.”

It takes you a moment to realize that he’s talking about you. 

The faerie pouts. “I don’t understand why you stay when you should be with me. You promised that you would.”

Naoya runs his hand down her cheek. “And I will. The wedding is in three days' time, and once she's dead, I will be king. Then, nothing will keep you away from me.”

You are suddenly very aware of your racing heartbeat and the weakness of your feet. Dead? This cannot be your fiancé. But it is impossible to deny the truth before you. You can’t stand to listen anymore, so you fly away before they can hear your cries. When you’re far enough away, you allow yourself to sob. You don’t care where you go, just as long as you’re far from Naoya. 

Your tears and delirium unintentionally lead you deeper and deeper into the forest. Farther and farther away from the safety of your willow tree. You hardly care or notice as sharp thorns and branches cut into your skin as you fly by. You don’t notice anything at all, not until several wasps begin flying along either side of you. 

These are nothing like the kind honey bees that live in your kingdom. These creatures take turns pushing hard against you. You do your best to weave and dodge their hits, and if they were faeries you would have out-flown them easily. But the wasps are too quick for you, and avoiding them grows harder as the forest thickens around you.

You gasp out in shock and pain as one of the wasps stabs its stinger through your delicate wing. You can hear and feel the membrane tear apart like thin paper. Your other wing folds at the pressure that it takes on with the damage to the other, and you plummet to the ground below. At least moss softens the blow, but the landing is still rough. 

You’re too numb to move. The weight of Naoya’s betrayal and the pain of your wings has you staring up at the dense tree top view blankly. Tears fall down your cheeks, but you don't have the energy left to even cry out. You just hope that the Earth will take you gently.

“Are you going to stay down there forever?” 

Your head shifts at the new voice. A faerie flutters down to stand before you. He has ebony black hair that flows in the light breeze, and he wears dark plum-colored leaves in a baggy pants style and a long sleeved top with edges that curl into a lighter pink hue. 

You sniffle and try to sit up, but your movements are stiff with the pain. “If I do, it’s none of your business.”

He smiles sharply. “Then should I leave?” 

He turns to fly off, but fear settles into your gut. You, the crown princess, are miles and miles from the willow grove. Stricken by emotional turmoil and torn wings. And worst of all, Naoya is about to destroy your kingdom, if what you heard was true. You need to do something to stop him, and you can’t do it alone. 

“Wait!” you cry out. He pauses, turning slowly to face you, a strange smug look in his eye. “I–my wings.” You try not to get emotional, but the crack in your voice is obvious. 

The man glances at your wings crushed under you and coos. “Aw, you must be in a lot of pain, huh, pretty girl?”

You’re too exhausted to snap at him for his tone. He flutters close and grasps your hands in his, pulling you up gently. Even as you stand, your legs feel weak. 

“I need to get to the willow grove.” you tell him. 

He hums. “Oh, do you?” 

You huff at his dismissive tone. “I am the crown princess, and I need to get back to speak with my court. Something terrible is going to happen.” 

His smile widens. “Oh, I know who you are, Princess.” 

Your nose scrunches up in confusion at the tone of his voice. “Can you help me?” 

He hums again. “I could.” 

Your heart thrums, and you have a strong sense that something is very, very wrong. “Will you help me?”

He stares at you for a long moment, eyes lidded as he regards you. “I won't.”

Your mouth drops open to ask why, when you notice two flitting creatures come up behind him. They’re the two wasps from earlier. They don’t attack, they just hover patiently behind the stranger, almost as if…

You gasp and try to take a staggering step back, but the man’s hands still hold yours. His grip isn’t painful, but it is strong. “You…they were under your control?” 

He smiles. “Attagirl, you’re starting to figure it out.” 

“But…why?” 

He tilts his head. “Does the Spirit King need a reason to do what he pleases in his own kingdom?”

You don’t want to believe him, but you know there’s only one faerie who can control creatures like this man can. And you know you left the boundaries of your kingdom miles ago. The reality of your situation makes you fight harder against his hold, until you finally manage to tug your hands free. 

The force of it sends you falling backwards and of course with your luck that just won’t stop, you land directly onto your broken wings. You can’t hold in the agonizing scream that tears through you when they fold the absolute wrong way. Your body is wracked with tremors of pain so white hot that you can’t suppress your sobs. You turn to lay in a fetal position, to relieve the pressure from your wings. You whimper and press your face to the ground, resigning yourself to your fate. 

The Spirit King is going to kill you, and Naoya is going to take over your kingdom. You wait for the fatal blow, but it never comes. Instead, you feel yourself lifted into strong arms. 

The Spirit King cradles you in his arms, face serious for once. He takes off into the air, heading farther away from your home. When he sees you looking backwards, he grins that stupid grin again. “The Faerie King will pay a heavy price to see you returned. Lucky me, that this opportunity fell right into my arms.”

You clutch your arms around his neck in fear that he’ll decide to just drop you. “You don’t understand. The willow grove is in danger.” 

He peers at you from the side of his eye. “Don’t you worry your little head, Princess. Your father will do anything for his precious little rose, so this ransom won’t last more than a few days.”

You slam your fist against his chest, and you nearly gawk when your hand just bounces off uselessly. “No. There won’t even be a willow grove to return to in a few days.” 

The Spirit King just ignores you and flies the two of you into a knot of a thick tree. Your frustrations grow. “You need to listen to me!”

His lip curls in disgust. “I don’t take orders, especially not in my own kingdom.” 

You huff in annoyance, but you’re too tired to argue more. Despite the way that your mind screams to stay alert, you’ve pushed your body too much as it is. Your head falls against the Spirit King’s chest as you surrender to your exhaustion.

When you wake up, you’re surprised to see that you’re not in a cell or discarded in a ditch. The room you’re in is dark, but comfortable. The bed that you've been laid on is not made of moss or rose like you're used to, instead it looks like it's made out of fabric. When you look around the room, you notice just how much stuff looks like it’s been taken from humans. You’ve seen some of this stuff from afar. Gojo has told you about the miniature furniture that humans make for their tiny handmade dolls. He’s also snuck human contraptions for you to look at, and your favorite are the glittering stones fused to metal bands that he finds in every color imaginable. There are some gems here in this room, but they’re a black-purple color that you’ve never seen before. 

They’re encrusted along the edges of a round mirror. You hardly recognize your reflection, with all the cuts and bruises that marr your skin. And you gasp at the sight of your wings. The left wing is limp by your side, and it barely twitches when you try to move it. The right one had been safe from the wasp’s stinger, but it had definitely been broken in the fall. 

You limp to the edge of the room to identify the outside surroundings. The bark wall has a small window cut into it, and you study the view. Your heart sinks at the sight of ink black trees. The decaying environment makes it obvious that you’re deep in the Cursed Spirit King’s domain. You yell your frustration and look around for something to smash. You settle on tossing the doll chair against the wall. It falls apart easily, and you sink to your knees in defeat. You pull your knees up to your chest, pressing your face into your knees as you cry.

“The dramatics are a bit much, don’t you think?” 

You glare up at the Spirit King with as much contempt as you can muster. He crouches down beside you, reaching his hand out. You flinch and scramble backwards. He keeps his hand extended, and that’s when you notice the salve in his hand. 

“You need to be careful with your wings right now,” he says. “Otherwise they’ll heal crooked.” 

“Why do you care?” You spit out angrily. “You’re the one who did this to me.” 

He doesn’t speak as he carefully massages the salve into your wings. Your spine tingles at the feeling, and you can’t help but shiver. “I didn’t intend for this to happen.” 

You scoff and pull away from his touch. “Yeah, I can really tell.” 

He stands and places the salve on the table next to him. There’s a large hand in front of your face. You look up, rolling your eyes at his faux-gentleman behavior. You stubbornly push off the ground and stand on your own, even though you know it would hurt less if you let him help.

“I’m leaving. And I won’t let you stop me.”

“There’s no need. You’ll be home safe just in time for your stupid coronation and the wedding. I’m sure your idiot fiancé is thinking himself a hero right now, searching the forest for you.” You think he may be trying to ease your mind, but the mention of your fiancé makes your blood boil. 

“Oh, I’ll kill him when I get my hands on that…that fucking weasel.” You kick the broken chair for good measure. 

The Spirit King holds out his hands to placate you. “Woah. Trouble in paradise?” 

You scowl, grabbing the front of his shirt. “You have to take me back now. Before Naoya is crowned king and he has his way with my kingdom.”

For the first time, the Spirit King is shocked by your words. “He–what?” 

His hands reach up to cup your elbows as you keep your fists clenching his shirt. “I heard him,” you gasp out. “It’s why I ended up on the wrong side of the forest. It was a ploy. His plan was to marry me and then dispose of me to become the Faerie King. And now with me gone, he doesn’t even have to get his hands dirty. It doesn’t matter that we’re not married. He’s going to be crowned in three days' time. I need to stop him. Please.”

There’s a long moment of silence from the Spirit King and if your wings weren’t fucked, you’d take to opportunity to fly right out the window. But you’re forced to wait, because you won’t get anywhere without his help. You try to give him your best puppy dog eyes and pouty lips (which work on Shoko every time without fail), but he just rolls his eyes and looks away.

“Don’t do that. Fine, I’ll take you back. But you still owe me a ransom reward.”

You nod eagerly. “Of course, whatever you want. But I have to get back before the coronation.”

He nods. “We’ll leave tomorrow at dawn.”

When he turns to leave, as if the matter is settled just like that, you grab his wrist. He looks down, then back up at you with a look of amusement. You scowl. “We need to leave now. I already wasted enough time sleeping.”

He sighs. “Princess, no offense, but you’re not exactly up for a journey right now. You need to rest, then we’ll go.”

You stomp your foot, and your fingers tighten around his wrist. “I’m not waiting. I’m going to leave this sad excuse of a kingdom today. You can come with me, or you can kiss that reward goodbye. It’s your choice.”

He stares into your eyes, and you match his gaze with your own unrelenting one. You don’t know what he’s looking for, but he must find it on your face. “Fine. We’ll leave today. After I’ve wrapped your wings. I don’t need you dying on me before I deliver you. You’d find a way to blame me for that too.”

“Fine,” you repeat. “But I’m wrapping my wings myself.”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous, you can’t do it on your own. Let me help.”

You let go of him and step away. “Yeah, right. I trust you about as far as I can throw you, Spirit King.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, pressing his lips in a firm line. “Suguru.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“My name is Suguru. It’s much easier to trust someone when you don’t know them by such a terrifying title. Now, since we’ve been properly introduced, I’ll wrap your wings and we’ll start getting ready for the journey.”

You open your mouth to argue, but he quirks a brow and says, “You can try wrapping your wings on your own, but there’s no need to be so stubborn. If I wanted to kill you, I would have. There have certainly been many opportunities.”

You sputter, your annoyance makes it impossible for you to say anything, because you know it will just amuse him. “I beg your pardon? You can’t speak to me like that. I’m–”

“No one of importance in my domain. The flies here have more authority than you. Now, if you're done puffing your feathers and squawking at me, I’ll go get our supplies ready for the journey.”

You open your mouth to say something, but at the chance of sounding like you’re squawking, you snap it shut. For good measure, you turn away from him and fold your arms in as angry a manner as you can muster.

“Nothing more to say? Good. I’ll be back to wrap your wings in a minute.”

You so badly want to pounce on him and knock some sense into his arrogant self, but unfortunately he is the only faerie who can help you right now. It’s a shame, because you really want to hit him or pull his hair a little bit.

You’re left with your violent thoughts for only a few minutes before he returns with a packed satchel. You make it a point to scowl extra hard at him.

He jerks his head to the bed. “Sit.”

You huff. “You don’t get to order me around. I’m not one of your cursed bugs.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Your Royal Pain-in-the-Ass. Can you please sit on the bed before I make you?”

You turn your nose at his tone of voice, but you sit at the very edge of the bed. Suguru sits behind you, and you can feel the dip in the bed when he does. You sit as still as you can as you feel him stretch your left wing open. You wince at the sharp, pin-prick moments of pain as he stitches the tear closed. Then, he spreads more salve on before wrapping both wings in soft, silky strips of cloth. 

“All done,” he whispers against your ear. You shudder at his closeness and shove him away. He laughs and stands. “I packed some necessities for you, and there’s a change of clothes inside. We’ll leave as soon as you’re ready.”

You push him out of the room to rummage through the bag. You find the set of clothing, and your nose wrinkles at the sight. The fabric is soft, but it’s an ugly set of dark grey pants and shirt. But it looks like it should fit, and you suppose it is more efficient for the journey. Even though you’re the crown princess, and you should never be forced to wear such drab clothing. While changing, you stop to consider a very present problem. You can’t get your wings through the opening in the shirt that they are meant to go through. You scowl when you realize there is only one solution. You open the door to the room, and you hate that you’re relieved to see Suguru waiting against the wall.

“Done?” he asks, stepping forward. You extend your palm to keep him back.

“I can’t get the shirt on without hurting my wings. Can you…” you trail off, too embarrassed about the fact that you need his help for such a stupid task, “Can you help me?”

He grins. “Aw, of course, sweetheart.”

Before he can come any closer, you growl and close the door so that it’s only a crack open. “You know what? I’m sorry I asked. I’ll just do it myself.”

He presses his hand to the door so that you can’t fully close it, but he tilts his head away. “Come on, I’m just teasing. Like you said, you can’t do it on your own.”

You grip the edge of the door, and you can’t help the anger in your voice as you say, “I don’t need your help. I’m not weak, I can deal with it on my own. Sorry for asking.”

“Don’t be stubborn. Will you just let me help you?” 

You don’t budge, and it makes him sigh. “I don’t think you're weak, not for this of all things. Just…think of it as penance. For, you know, attacking you. Or whatever.”

You hesitate a moment longer, but you really do need help with your shirt. You let go of the door and turn. How many times are you going to turn your back to this man? It makes you feel vulnerable, to be half dressed, and injured, and so far away from home. You refuse to look back as Suguru slips your wings through the slits on the back of the shirt, more gently than you’d think of him. He pulls it over your head too, even though you could have done that on your own. You pull your arms through the sleeves before he can do that too. You turn to face him. 

“Can we go now? We could probably cover a lot of distance before the sun sets if we leave now. Depending on how far away you dragged us from my home.”

He lifts his hands in defense. “Well, sorry. How was I supposed to know that the Zen’in brat was planning a coup?”

You stare at him. You so badly want to smack him, and it takes everything in you to refrain from doing so. “Because I told you. Multiple times.”

He shrugs. “Eh, it's all a matter of perspective, and we’ll never know for sure. Come on.”

Suguru opens his arms to you. You blink at him slowly. Does he want a fucking hug or something?

You ask him as much, and he rolls his eyes at you. “You’re ready, aren’t you? C’mon, I have to carry you.”

You take a step back, shaking your head adamantly. “Oh, there is no way I’m letting you carry me. I don’t even know what kind of…diseases you carry.”

This is all so very amusing to him, and his grin widens. “Diseases, huh? That’s a new one. Look, we can’t make the journey in two days on foot, and in case you’ve forgotten you can’t fly.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” you snap at him. “But this is not going to happen.”

“You have to admit, this isn’t so bad.”

You lean your head farther away from Suguru. He’d said all matter-of-factly that a face-to-face carry would keep both of your wings intact. So here you are with your arms wrapped around his neck and your legs pressed to his right side. You try to ignore the feel of his strong right arm holding your legs secure, with the left arm wrapped carefully around your waist. 

You roll your eyes. “This is terrible. You stink, and your hair is everywhere.”

Truthfully—and you would rather die than admit this out loud—he’s easy on the eyes, and his touch is sweet. He doesn’t tease you about your position or the way your arms tighten around him when the wind makes you waver, and you’re grateful for it. You already feel so exposed, and bless the stars Suguru doesn’t acknowledge it or make it worse. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been travelling when Suguru flies down to the soft Earth. The sun is setting, and it will be difficult for him to see soon. You eat a simple meal side-by-side before tucking in for the night. You’d found an empty log, and Suguru instructed a large spider to watch over the two of you in your sleep. You pick a space as far as you can from the arachnid, because the memory of the wasps is still too fresh in your mind. 

You curl up with your cloth-wrapped wings drawn over your body. You blame your tears on your exhaustion, and you can only hope that Suguru has fallen asleep and doesn’t hear your sniffling. 

“Are you alright?” His voice cuts through the night.

You wipe your eyes uselessly. “I’m fine. I must be allergic to the air here.”

“Right, the air.” He doesn’t sound even a little bit convinced. “I guess you’ve gotten too accustomed to the magic that you’ve stolen, and the blessings that it's brought you.”

You wrinkle your nose in confusion. You shift so that you’re laying on your back, making sure that your wings are not pinned under your body. “What are you talking about?”

You hear him scoff in the dark. “Please, don’t act like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you don’t know.”

The urge to slap Suguru just gets stronger and stronger every moment around him. “Hey, Bug King. I have no clue what stolen magic you’re talking about, and your attitude doesn’t make it better, you know.”

“You really have no clue?”

“None. Will you tell me?”

There’s a moment of silence, and you think he might have fallen asleep. 

“My kingdom isn’t meant to be like this. It was beautiful, once. The decay of my domain is a curse of magic. For generations, your willow tree has been siphoning the life of my kingdom.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “That’s not possible. I think we would know if the willow tree was taking its power from your kingdom.”

He doesn’t respond, but it’s an answer enough. 

“Wait, you think we’ve done this? On purpose? That’s…that’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?” He asks, and you falter. You can’t think of that reality. “Clearly, you have no part in this. Yet, at least. But when you’re queen, your father will probably let you in on the family secret.”

“No, no way. He wouldn’t…” you hesitate when you think of your father and what he is capable of, “I would never allow that.”

Suguru sighs. “Sure, Princess. You say that now, but a queen does what’s necessary for her people.”

“I’m serious. If our willow is causing this…decay of all of this land, then I have to put a stop to it. It’s a bastardization of everything that we do for Mother Nature.”

It’s quiet for a long minute. Finally, you hear rustling from Suguru’s side. “You should sleep. We have a long day of traveling ahead of us.”

Suguru refuses to continue your conversation from the night before. Why, you’re not sure, since it’s quite obvious that this will be the favor he asks as his reward for your safe return. You think it makes sense to discuss it now, because you agree with him. Clearly, he doesn’t feel the same way. He avoids the topic like it’s the plague. You tried apologizing in the morning, and the look on his face made it obvious that the topic was off limits. Still, you make the effort to be kinder to him, considering the fact that your kingdom has turned his own into a wasteland. 

He stares at the horizon as he flies, keeping an eye out in case Naoya’s search has crossed onto this side of the border. This task allows him to ignore you, much to your chagrin. You give up on trying to catch his eye, instead turning to look down below. Your eyebrows furrow as you consider Suguru’s revelation from yesterday. The trees you fly past are withered beyond repair, but the closer you fly towards your kingdom—your willow tree—the less dead they look. 

You can’t believe that you’ve been misled your whole life. How many people hold this secret? How many people know the truth—that the bordering faerie kingdom does not cause its own decay because of its people’s use of dark magic, rather it is because of your kingdom. It makes you feel sick.

A high-pitched call pulls you away from your thoughts. You squint into the distance, where the sound had come from. There is a bird flying towards you. Your eyes brighten. This must be one of the search party’s birds, come to take you home. You lift a hand to call for it, but as it gets closer, your heart drops. 

You turn to face Suguru, who is watching the bird with narrowed eyes. “You don’t happen  to know that particular bird, do you?”

He doesn’t answer the question, but you don’t need him to. The bird, which you can now identify as a black kite, does not look friendly in any capacity. 

Suguru glances at you. “Hold on tight, Princess.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You wrap your arms around his neck, and you can feel him wrap his arms around you in response. As the bird approaches, he dives sharply. It shoots above you as he weaves through the treetops in hopes of it losing your trail. You scan the sky above for sight of it as Suguru focuses on the view ahead. There’s no sight of it above, which you find awfully suspicious. You open your mouth to say as much, but the bird suddenly slams into the two of you from the side. The force is so unexpected that it knocks you out of Suguru’s arms. He reaches out to grab you, but the kite has other plans as it nips at him with deadly intent. You can only watch in horror as it attacks him, unable to do anything as you sink to the ground below. Again.

This time, you land in an icy stream of water. The force of the fall steals your breath away. Your wings are like dead weight as you struggle to the surface. You do your best to swim to shore, fighting against the strong current. It tries hard to knock you off balance. You scramble for purchase, grabbing out desperately for something to stop your movement. Finally, your grip closes over the stem of a dandelion, and you haul yourself to solid ground. You cough up water and try to catch your breath. At least Suguru had made you wear pants, otherwise you never would have made it to shore. Your body jolts to attention at the thought, and you're surprised at the amount of worry that courses through you at the thought of the Spirit King. Your teeth are chattering and your shoulders are shaking, but you stand and examine the skies above for any sight of Suguru or the kite.

You desperately want to call out for him, but you don’t in fear that Naoya is still out searching for you. You look around, desperate for a glimpse of him anywhere. Yes, you’re worried that you’ll be lost and unable to return home, but if anything happens to Suguru, you will feel responsible. Even though you’ve been unsuccessful, your eyes swipe over the treetops once more. Still, you have no luck. 

“What are you looking for, Princess?”

You gasp and turn at the sound of the voice. It’s Suguru, hair ruffled and body scratched up, but alive.

“Your ride is here,” he says sarcastically, as if to diffuse your worries. You grasp him in your arms and pull him into a tight hug. His hands hesitate, but then he wraps his arms around you, careful of your limp wings.

You rest your head against his chest as you look up at him. “I thought you were dead.”

He gives you a sharp grin. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.” But his smile weakens as he says, “When I saw you fall and then disappear, I…I’m glad you’re not hurt.”

You bury yourself against him to steal his warmth, still shivering from your swim. Suguru notices, because he presses his mouth into a firm line and says, “We should make camp for tonight. I’ll build a fire.”

You want to protest, because you’re so close, but Suguru doesn’t relent. He builds a quick fire to sit you in front of it, and then he disappears. You don’t worry for long, because he returns and drops warm fabric over your shoulders. You clutch it to your chest, looking at him curiously. 

“Spider’s silk,” He explains. 

You nod and nuzzle into the comforting fabric as he adds to the fire. “Do you control the creatures, when you tell them what to do?” You ask. 

Suguru tilts his head. “Do you control your people? It's much the same. They do what I ask, because I am their king.”

You snort at the thought. “They hardly listen to me. Gojo and Shoko only do what I want if I ask nicely and only if they feel like it.”

At his questioning glance, you continue, “My personal guards. Well, they’re my friends, really. They’re probably going mad with worry because of me.”

You feel guilty all over again at the stress you’re putting them through. You stare into the fire, pulling your legs up to hug them against your chest. You hide your pout against your knees. 

“They must have…interesting personalities, in order to keep up with your antics.”

You scoff and reach an arm out to shove him. “Shut up, I am perfectly tolerable!”

He evades your touch easily, grinning at you. “Tolerable? If you say so. But if you give them half as much trouble as you give me…”

You can’t help but laugh at him. “Please, they’re so much worse than me. You should see Gojo when they bring out sweets at any event. He’s like a vacuum. And he always teases me like it would kill him not to make fun of me. And Shoko! Oh, you’d think she was an angel compared to me and Gojo. But the things she says under her breath would make clan elders keel over and die at the vulgarity. She knows exactly what to say to tear someone apart.”

You pick at the material of your pants, which have dried from the warmth of the fire. “I think you’d like them.”

“They sound fun. You really care about them,” his voice is soft, but it carries in the night.

You sigh and peer up at the night sky, as if they will appear from thin air. “I’m not very good at showing it. All I do is make them worry about me. I make their job so much harder.”

It’s silent for a moment, and you really wish you hadn’t said anything. Then, Suguru’s large hand is on your shoulder. You look up at him, and he gives you a small smile. “From what you’ve told me, it seems like they match you very well.”

“But like you said, I’m a lot of trouble.”

He sighs. “I didn’t…that’s not what I meant. I like that you give me a hard time.”

You raise an eyebrow at his words. “Really?” You say incredulously.

“Really. Maybe it’s weird, but I like riling you up. I like to argue with you, and I like that you argue back.” 

“You are weird,” you agree, grinning at him. Your breath catches when you realize just how close the two of you have gotten as you talked. You try to ignore it, but the heat of the fire just intensifies the warmth in your stomach and the fast beating of your heart.

Suguru looks down, eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes. The way his dark gaze sweeps over your face makes you shiver. The two of you lean even closer, and you nearly brush against his mouth. You can feel his warm breath tickle your face as he says, “Is this alright, Princess?”

Something about the way he uses your title makes you pause. It makes you think of Naoya. And once you start thinking about him, it's hard to stop. It makes you overthink this moment with Suguru. You pull back quickly. Suguru looks into your eyes with a soft expression on his face. “Are you okay?”

You laugh in disbelief. Are you okay?

“I’m so stupid,” you mutter. You stand suddenly, stumbling away from the faerie next to you. 

Suguru lifts a hand towards you, but you slap the hand away. “Don’t touch me,” you warn him. “Don’t.”

His eyebrows furrow. “What happened? What have I done? Let me fix it.”

You rub a hand over your face. “You’re just like him. I have something you want, and you’ll do anything to secure it. You don’t have to butter me up, I’m already going to give you your ransom, your kingdom’s magic, whatever you want. Do you have to be so cruel? Just leave my heart alone,” you beg.

Suguru sucks in a sharp breath. “You think that’s what’s going on? Princess–” 

You shake your head and reply coldly, “This was a mistake. I’m going to sleep, to prepare for our journey tomorrow.”

You don’t stop to hear him out, because you know just how weak you are. He’ll easily convince you that you’re overthinking, but you don’t want to think logically about it right now. Not when your thoughts have been overrun with Naoya’s betrayal. You find a spot far from the warmth of the fire and Suguru. You sleep facing away from him, curling into yourself for comfort. This whole trip, you’ve been foolish to trust him so easily. You’ve allowed yourself to crave something you can’t have, and you’re determined not to make the same mistake again. 

Ever since you landed in Suguru’s kingdom, you’ve been nothing but a weak, useless thing. You’ve given him too much control over you, and you cannot give him your heart on top of everything else. Even as you avoid him, it is his spider silk fabric wrapped around you, his clothing that you wear, and his handiwork that has mended your wings. He surrounds you, and you hate it.

You ignore him the next morning as the two of you eat a quick meal. You ignore him during the rest of the flight, and you ignore him even as you arrive at the willow tree on the day of Naoya’s coronation. 

You want to be more offended by your parents for giving their power to Naoya after only three days of being missing, but you know they have very little choice. Today is the Spring Equinox, and without an exchange of power now, your kingdom will produce a very barren Spring bounty. You've been preparing for this day since you were old enough to understand the duties required of you, and Naoya is about to take all of it away from you like a gull snapping up fish. 

You storm down the halls inside the willow tree with Suguru hot on your heels. You can hear him jog to keep up with the vicious path that you’re on. The closer you get to the grand hall, the better you can hear the singing of faeries, and it makes your anger bubble hotter and hotter.

As soon as the oversized doors of the hall are in your sight, you extend an arm out, causing the doors to fly open with the force of your power. You’ve been trying to conserve your strength ever since the injury of your wings, and the rush of magic through your veins feels so, so good.

The loud bang of the door turns all the attention on you. Hundreds of eyes bore into you, and you can hear the gasps of shock and the whispers that run amok. But your eyes are locked on the figure standing proudly on the dais. His grin melts away oh-so-fast when he sees his fiancé back from the dead. Your grin widens, and you tilt your chin downwards. You hadn’t thought it would be this satisfying to see Naoya staring at you with such horror.

You take your time stalking towards him.

“M-my beloved! You’ve returned to me!” He’s dedicated, even now, which is quite impressive. Maybe he doesn’t yet know that you know of his betrayal.

The platform gives him height over you, so you step onto the dais and circle around him. The closer you step towards him, the more he steps back, until he stumbles down the steps of the dais. You smile, looking down at him. 

“Are you surprised to see me? It would have been so easy for you, if I had stayed missing so you wouldn't have to kill me yourself.” As you expect, gasps ripple around the hall at your statement.

Naoya falls to his knees before you. “Darling, how could you say such a thing? I have been searching for you faithfully.”

You laugh carries in the room. “Faithfully, hm? Were you faithful when you took a lover during our entire relationship? I heard you that day. I know exactly what you intended to do. Did you think you would get away with it?”

His carefully expressed face breaks as his lips dip into an ugly scowl. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“No? Am I not the bitch you courted?” You throw the insult back in his face.

You feel powerful, with him on his knees before you and all your people. You’re so distracted by this success that you don’t notice the way his hand wraps around the handle of his rapier. 

Suguru does notice though, somehow, because as soon as Naoya pulls out his blade and stands to cut you, Suguru has already moved. He grabs a rapier from the sheath of a guard and blocks Naoya’s weapon. You stare up at his back with wide eyes, almost shocked by his speed. 

He turns his head to you slightly. “Princess, you should get out of the way now.”

You blink to attention and step off the dais as Suguru easily presses his strong arm down, forcing Naoya to exert twice the amount of strength. So many guards surround you, yet they all watch the fight, entranced. You understand why. Suguru moves effortlessly, as if he’s merely putting on a show for the crowd. Every movement is smooth and intentional, and it doesn’t hurt that his muscles ripple beautifully. 

In contrast, Naoya scrambles with each of his strikes, barely managing to keep up with Suguru. It’s pathetic to see him like this, and you can’t believe that was the man you almost married. Maybe he did you a favor by trying to orchestrate your assassination. As you watch the fight, you vaguely register the fact that they’re moving towards you. Unfortunately, Naoya notices this fact too, and he reaches out desperately. He manages to grab you before you can evade him, and he holds you in front of him. His sword presses against your neck, and you wince at the feeling. 

“You should step back, fiend. Before I cut her throat,” Naoya taunts, which is definitely a mistake on his part.

You can feel the point of his weapon drawing blood, but Suguru moves so fast you nearly miss the look on his face. He stares at Naoya with so much murder in his gaze that you’re certain he’s seeing red. Naoya is knocked down before he can hurt you any further, and Suguru is before you before Naoya hits the ground. The anger in his face has melted into concern. He reaches out, cradling you gently. His palm presses against your cheek, and you lean into the touch. 

You only get one moment like this before you can hear Gojo and Shoko call out for you. The sound of their voices pulls you back to reality, and you suddenly remember where you are, and who Suguru is to everyone in the hall.

You pull away from Suguru to greet your guards. They bow their heads in greeting, and Shoko starts saying something about how they were worried about you, but you lean forward and pull the two of them into a tight hug. Your arms curl around them, and you’ll admit that your eyes tear up a little bit. You can feel both of their arms hover over your back before they relent and hug you back even tighter. You don’t have to guess the moment when Gojo notices Suguru behind you, because you feel his arm stiffen around you.

You get pulled behind him as he pulls his rapier from its sheath. He extends his weapon with one hand, and the other spreads out protectively.

“Drop your weapon,” he tells Suguru, ice seeping into his words. You step forward, but Suguru is already surrendering. 

Gojo pushes Suguru down to his knees and Shoko is immediately beside them, lifting her sword until it presses under his chin. She uses her blade to tilt his chin upwards, staring down at him with disgust.

You beg them to stop. “Don’t, please.”

“Highness, this is the Spirit King. Don’t worry, he won’t be able to hurt you anymore.” You groan at Gojo’s loyalty.

You rush forward, placing your hand on his bicep to calm him down. “Satoru, don’t. He saved me, he brought me back home.”

Gojo clenches his jaw. “Why were you in his domain to begin with? Why are you hurt? I can’t—I won’t let him go.”

“It was my fault, I ran because of Naoya, and I got myself hurt and lost. He saved me. You must stop this at once. Please.” A little fib never hurt anyone, especially because Gojo would never stand down if he heard the truth.

Gojo glares at you for a moment, but he finally releases Suguru. “Fine. But you’re in a lot of trouble, Highness. Sneaking out of your room? What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t,” you admit. “But you can scold me later. There’s someone else that you can imprison.”

You jerk your head over to the pathetic form of your ex-fiancé, who is moaning and groaning on the ground. You can tell that your guards don't want to leave your side, but they turn to deal with Naoya, giving you a moment alone with Suguru.

 “Thank you,” he says softly. “I should leave, before they change their minds.”

Your heart freezes. “Leave? But I haven’t given you your reward yet.” 

He shakes his head. “Maybe at first that was all I cared about, but now it's different. I know you don’t trust me, but I never want to use you, or make you feel like I might. I don’t care about your magic, or your wealth. I just–I care about you, Princess.”

“You…” You don’t know how to respond, but you grasp his hand before he can even think about walking away. “Why would you leave then, before I can tell you I feel the same way?”

His eyes widen slightly, but he shakes his head. “You can’t. You have a kingdom to lead, and I have mine. Our paths are not meant to cross.”

But they already have, you think.

The words rush out of your mouth before you can second guess them. “I want you to be part of my council.” 

Even as they’re out, you don't regret them. In fact, you mean them even more, when you see his surprise.

It seems like all you can do is shock him. He laughs in disbelief. “They will never allow or accept that.”

You shrug. “I don’t care. I’ve learned a lot from you these last few days, and it only makes sense that you have a seat at my council, when families with weaker titles have positions they don’t deserve. Besides, I need your help to figure out how the willow tree has been taking your kingdom’s prosperity, and how to return it.”

You’ve found a way to surprise him yet again. “You can’t…Your kingdom would not prosper as much as it does now, if you did that. You must think of your people.”

You hum in thought. “Well, I guess I’ll have to find ways to strengthen my allyship with the bordering kingdom, then. You wouldn’t happen to know how I can send a message to the king? I am meant to be crowned queen, you know.”

Suguru looks at you, and it makes you want to say anything, if it will make him stay here, with you. He leans forward and cradles your head between his large palms. He stares at you through heavy lids. “I think I can get him to agree.”

[midnight-mourning]

🐟Midnight's DCA MerMay🐟

It's that time again, but now it's for May! So let's just jump right into it;

Requests

I will have 16 slots available for requests. Length will be the same as previous events with 1000-2000 words allocated to each

Requests can be anything (again)! Just ask that they relate to mermaids/mermay in some way, be that directly or indirectly and of course DCA-related.

As most know I am an X reader writer, but as long as my general request rules are followed, I don't mind writing for ocs, canon, etc. 

fair warning though for the above, I am not familar at all with TSAMS and if you DO have a specific au, I will do my BEST to be accurate but cannot guarentee beyond that

For those who don't know my rules, no nsfw (suggestive is fine!), and if you want something specific, be specific. Besides that, it's fair game, request what you want!

Potential Issues & Schedule

If there is overlap between request ideas, they will be combined in some manner of speaking (if possible). If needed, I will reach out to you about adjusting ideas or the likes, though I don't forsee this happening. This would occur if for example, someone wants gift shopping with Sun with their oc, and someone else wants the same thing with a reader-insert. Whoever requested second would be who I reach out to. 

Requests will be posted starting on May 1st & ending on the 31st! I will likely post every other day, with the fic I'm writing suplementing in between ^^

I will be starting writing as soon as I get the first request, as I have a busy month or so prior to May SO, requests will be open from today (April 13th) until next week April 20th, or until I get 16 unique requests.

To keep things organized, please request in the comments of this post. This also helps to potentially keep from overlap in requests, as you'll be able to see what else has already been requested. If you request in my ask box or such it'll make things a bit more difficult, so please avoid that.

HOWEVER, there is one exception to the above, which is if you wish to request anonymously, which is completely fine to do! But please only request in my ask box if you want to be anonymous. If overlap happens in that case, then y'all may just get two responses with similar vibes on the same day (essentially a bonus lol)

Sharing & More

Please feel free to share this post around, and request if you want to! Once I hit 16 unique ones I'll reblog this post with the announcement that requests are closed, so make sure to double check they aren't closed already prior to requesting!

I'll also post updates every couple of days regarding the status of total requests as well ^_^

Everything related to this will be under the tag #MM dca MerMay

These should be uploaded to ao3 when posted here, so you'll be able to read there if you prefer!

Shout out to the artists and beta-readers helping out with this event! It's a big help and adds to the fun so very excited to get to cooking with these and see what y'all get up to with them ^^ (if you're interested in joining in on this here's a final call to reach out and I'll invite you to the discord server :D)

General update things from me

As I said in my update post I am, very busy, things have picked up in my research so I'm in crunch mode to get done asap so i can graduate

I've been writing tho! Several things I'm waiting to share until I clean them up a bit but once mermay gets started i don't forsee another dry spell for a bit at least

Been working on a bit of everything, CS and HS both sit at the back of my mind but I just haven't had the time to really sit down and write for them both given theyre more in-depth with plot and such, will be getting back to them once im able to though I promiseee

I'm down a thumb rn due to a run in with a mandolin (the cutting tool not the instrument) but I will survive! not being able to draw sucks tho >_<

Excited to see the requests, bye for now!

Tags for those who enjoy my writing (if you'd like added, just let me know!)

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay @that-one-unknown-artist @rosescarletful @buzzy-bee @hazelthebat @nightriverart

[lesbo-tuliplvrr]

angst and fluff???

starting the day in bed all cuddly bc you're finally sharing a rest day

sadly, a friend of abby unexpectedly comes over, and abby knows how hard their friend's breakup has been, so she let's them stay.

reader is sooo pissed and usually abby can immediately recognise the jealousy and bad vibes, but she's so distracted

when the friend realises this, she asks to see abby's room and tries to kiss her

reader sees this and literally just storms off

im so sorry its so long lol, angsty ending pls. i hate miscommunication, but i have a feeling you'll do it amazing

you can totally change it too !!

off day

girlfriend!abby x girlfriend!reader

summary: abby continuously fails to heed your warnings about her best friend's intentions. when it gets to the point where she can no longer give her [friend] the benefit of the doubt, you're already gone.

cw: fluff (not for long HEHEHE), angst, kinda irritating abby, miscommunication but not really more like disregard or misunderstanding of said communication, swearing, kiss without consent, no specific physical description of reader, she/her pronouns are used.

a/n: tysm for the request anon:) I had something like this in my ideas to write anyway so I really just killed two birds with one stone. I changed things up a bit hope you don't mind. initially I was gonna make nora the friend but I can't do my girl like that so I just pulled mari's name from yellowjackets because I cannot stand her and can't wait till she dies :D (100% certain she's pit girl idc). anyway, hope you guys enjoy!! lemme know what you think in the replies!

wc: 2.5k

For the first time in a really long time, yours and Abby's off days coincided. Meaning you both could sleep in as long as you wanted. Could stay in bed all day, entangled in each other if you wanted to. And for the most part, that was your plan. Of course you would eventually have to leave the comfort of your shared bed to shower, and eat and perform other bodily functions needed to survive, but for the better part of the day you planned to never leave Abby's side. And neither did she plan to leave yours.

"I missed this so much," Abby spoke from where her face was nuzzled in your neck. She planted a kiss there, making you giggle at the feeling.

"I'm not leaving this bed ever again," you said, sinking deeper into the comfort of Abby and your shared bed. Abby looked up at you, raising up to kiss you sweetly on the lips. You reciprocated the gesture, easily getting lost in her touch. The kiss deepened, both not wanting to pull away. It really had been so long.

Abby had you pinned to the bed in no time, kisses no longer being focused on your lips but being littered everywhere on your body, when suddenly-

Knock Knock!

You and Abby arose due to the sound of frantic knocking, quickly throwing on your robes and heading towards the front door. Abby looked through the peephole, alarmed to see one of her best friends standing on the other side looking frazzled.

"Mari what the hell?" she questioned, opening the door for her friend. The friend in question immediately threw herself into Abby's arms.

"I really need you right now, Abby."

Reader

You weren't a toxic monster. Friends existed. Abby had friends who would need her at times. Just like there'll be times when she'd need them. It was the same for you. But you couldn't help but feel irritated at the sight of Mari.

She was one of those friends that were only suddenly a constant presence after their friend was taken. it seemed like she'd always find the times when you and Abby were just enjoying yourselves to barge in and make things about her.

At first you didn't want to think like that, chalking it down to just a standard case of jealousy. Abby had even noticed your change in behaviour.

"Don't tell me you're jealous of her?" Abby laughed, seeing you roll your eyes in relief and sigh after Mari left, having spent the entire day clinging to Abby.

You felt lousy for feeling jealous. It was so stupid. "I know I don't have anything to worry about but I just wanted to spend today with you." you voiced your frustration to her.

She scooped you up, carrying you to you guys' room, "I'm glad you know that I only have eyes for you. And plus, I am so not her type."

"You don't have to be her type for her to not want me around," you mumbled under your breath, still ashamed at your own pettiness.

"I heard that," Abby chuckled, "and I meant that she doesn't like girls."

A part of you felt stupid and embarrassed. Yet, not a big enough part for you to completely drop suspicions.

But that was only one out of the many other times she had coincidently showed up to hang or seek comfort from Abby, when you both intended on spending time together.

You even confronted Abby about it.

"I know how this may come off, but I'm not trying to limit how much you see your friends." you started, "but it gets to a point Abby. And either you're not seeing that she's taking advantage of your willingness to help and showing zero respect for what we have or you know and you're just not bothered by it. and quite frankly, I can't tell you which is worse!"

Abby heatedly responded, "She isn't taking advantage of anything! She's my friend and if she needs my help I won't hesitate to give it to her. Why are you making it out to be a bad thing that I care about my friends?"

You huffed in frustration, "I'm not talking about your other friends though am I Abby? I'm talking about Mari. Specifically, Mari. If she doesn't have feelings for you, she clearly doesn't like or respect me, and if you have no problem with either of those then I think you need to think a little harder about the future status of our relationship from here on out. I don't want to argue or make things worse but I'm getting tired of sounding like a broken record."

She went quiet at that, seemingly thinking it over.

After a moment of silence, Abby spoke up, “Look, baby. I'm sorry you've been feeling that way and I've been of no help. but I've already told you that she's straight-"

You sighed, rolling your eyes in disbelief. How could she still not get it?

"-But!" she interrupted your huff, "I trust you. If she doesn't make you feel respected then I'll take care of it."

You didn't look convinced.

"I'll have a chat with her. Don't worry, babe."

And Abby did come through on her promise to talk to her. The only thing was, Mari didn't exactly follow through with giving you guys space.

For the time being after Abby had spoken to her, she gave what you took as a half-hearted apology, stating she didn't mean to intrude or make it seem like she didn't care. But not very long after, she continued her usual behaviour. Just in a more careful way now that she knew you were keeping an eye on her.

So, to say your suspicion at yet another one of her intrusions was warranted, was an understatement in your opinion.

"What happened? Are you okay?" Abby asked, guiding a still attached Mari towards the living room. You closed the door behind them.

She divulged into how much her breakup from 2 months ago was still affecting her, claiming that a resurfaced picture of her and her ex triggered her that morning. In your eyes; bullshit. It seemed Abby could also see the crap for once, turning to make eye contact with you.

You raised your eyebrows at her as she turned back to face Mari, telling her to go wait for her in their bedroom.

When Mari left for your room and Abby and you were left alone, she started, "I know you're probably mad that we were interrupted, but she really is struggling a lot with this breakup."

You looked at her deadpan, already accepting that your perfect day at home with Abby was no more.

"And I know, her timing is unfortunate. again." You gave an oh really look, like you hadn't been pointing that out for the past 9 months.

You sighed, quite fed up with the same back and forth, "Just go help her Abby. Your friend needs you."

She looked at you, how apologetic she was evident on her face. But if she were truly sorry you wouldn't be having the same problem over and over.

She walked closer to you, holding your shoulder, "I'll go take care of it really quick, I promise. Then we can have the rest of the day to ourselves."

You scoffed, "That's not what I was concerned about but sure." Of course she still thought this was about you being petty or jealousy. Why couldn't she get it?

"Wha-"

"I'm gonna go get something for you guys from the shop. She'll want something sweet right?" You said, throwing on a coat and shoes, grabbing your wallet from the kitchen island where it remained the night before and heading out to your neighborhood mini mart.

After every argument and discussion you've had about this same issue, she still thinks it's a matter of being irritated at the intrusions? Well sure it was, to some extent, but this was so much more than that. And if Abby was gonna continue refusing to see the truth then this relationship could not last much longer.

Abby

"Sorry I took so long," Abby apologized to Mari, stepping into your and her room. Her friend was looking around your room, poking at the little trinkets and pictures littered around the area.

"It's fine," she responded, moving back to sit on the edge of the bed with Abby, "Is she mad? I know she doesn't like me."

"What? No, she doesn't not like you," Abby replied not so convincingly. Mari clearly wasn't convinced. "She's just..a bit frustrated I guess. We were gonna sleep in and do nothing today seeing as we're both off for the first time in forever." she chuckled.

Instead of feeling apologetic like a normal friend, Mari's facial expression changed to one resemblant to annoyance before she finally spoke up.

"Don't you think she's being a little unreasonable?"

Abby turned to her, confused. "Huh?"

Mari continued, "I mean. I'm not trying to imply anything bad about her but did she think she'd get to be the only person in your life now?" She finsihed with an eye roll and sickening smirk.

"What? No, that is not the case at all-"

"But it is!" Mari stood up, "She doesn't like me hanging around you. It's like she wants you all to herself or something. It's weird."

Now Abby was irritated, "Mar you don't know what you're talking about. If she gave off that impression it's because the times you choose to show up are when we don't want to be interrupted. Which is pretty often if I'm being honest." Abby stood up too, matching her friend's energy.

"What do you mean 'we'? You can't actually agree with her? We were friends before you even met her."

"Yeah but that doesn't mean I'm just supposed to choose you over her!" Abby was infuriated that Mari could ever think that way, immediately jumping to your defense.

"She's my girlfriend. And we see and talk to each other enough, quite frankly. I get to hang out with you more than I get to with her because we're both always busy, so yeah. If I were her I'd be a little frustrated if every time I finally got the chance to be alone with my girlfriend, her friend was suddenly showing up!"

Mari looked taken aback at the tone Abby had taken with her. She had never spoken like that to anyone, let alone her friend.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have raised my voice."

Expertly, Mari broke down in tears covering her face. Now Abby felt double bad. She was already going through so much and instead of being a comfort, all Abby could do was yell at her.

She quickly pulled her friend into her arms, caressing her head while repeating how sorry she was. Mari looked up into Abby's eyes, gradually bringing her face closer and closer to hers. Neither of them heard the front door open and your footsteps coming closer to the room.

As soon as the room door opened, you saw Mari on her tiptoes, lips pressed against Abby's. Abby immediately turned to where you stood in the open door, not realizing the compromising position she was in until you dropped the bag you held. Your face angrily held a Now do you see? expression as you slammed the bedroom door behind you, retreating to the living room. You had no interest in hearing what she could possibly have to say.

Just as you stormed out, Abby pushed Mari away from being so close to her and called out for you. "Baby, wait!"

"What the fuck was that?!" Abby bitterly asked her soon to be ex-friend, roughly wiping the feeling of Mari off her lips.

"I- I'm sorry, I just- I've liked you for so long-" Abby scoffed looking away from Mari's face, fuming, "-and- and she's no good for you! I'm sorry but you know it too, she's toxic Abby!"

Abby raised her eyebrows, eyes widening at the sheer insanity Mari was spewing, "The only toxic one here is you Mari! You know she warned me about this. I can't believe I didn't believe her."

"Wha- see?! She warned you about me? Who does she even think she is, she just got here! I've been your friend for years!"

"Too bad, so sad mari," Abby taunted, finally fed up with her, "Who she is, is my girlfriend and you're not going to get in the way of that. So while I'm asking nicely, get the fuck out of my house I never want to see you again."

Mari looked at her dumbfounded. Like she couldn't believe the words she was hearing.

"Out! now!" Abby demanded, following Mari out of the room. Mari, accepting this really was the end, stormed out of the front door completely ignoring your presence. You sat at the kitchen island watching Abby from across the room.

Reader

You looked at Abby who was now making her way towards you. She felt the anger in your muted facial expression, knowing she fucked up. Bad.

"I- you were right." You didn't say anything, continuing to stare at her.

"Believe me when I say, I really had no idea she felt that way and was trying to get in the way, I gave her the benefit of the doubt but I shouldn't have dismissed your skepticism. I should have known better than to think you'd have an issue with her for a reason so silly as plain jealousy.”

You didn't grace her with a response this time either. She came closer, placing her hands on your thighs, looking into your eyes.

"You told me so and I let it get to this point and I am so so so sorry, I promise she won't be an issue anymore. I told her off, for good this time."

Your jaw was clenched, teeth grinding against each other as you tried to muster up the courage to forgive her. A single tear ran down your face, your eyes red in anger and frustration and sadness. she tried wiping the tear from your cheek but you brushed her hand away, finally speaking up.

"No." you said, shaking your head as you got up from the seat in the kitchen.

Abby looked frantic, "Wh-what do you mean 'No'? I told you I was sorry, I- i took care of it." She trailed after you.

You moved through the living room, heading straight to open the front door. Abby quickly stopped you, using her strength to hold the door ajar so you couldn't leave just yet, "Where are you going?" Her voice sounded shaky.

"I need some space, Abby. Please?" you asked, not looking her in the eye. You couldn't handle seeing the pain in her eyes. You needed to think about yourself right now.

Time and time again, you've shut out your own gut feelings to please Abby. Insistent on there being no ulterior motives on Mari's part, you trusted her. Maybe you were just jealous. Maybe you were too possessive of Abby. But jealousy was not such a blinding emotion that you were rendered unresponsive to disrespect.

She respects you. She respects us. You believed her again.

Yet here you stood. Relationship hanging on by a spider silk thread.

She begrudgingly let you go, trusting you'd not too long be back. Your mental bags were already packed, however, and there was no coming back.

a/n: sooo how we feeling bout that one?? idk tbh. also are mini marts a thing in the land of capitalism (america)? I've literally never been there so if they aren't, just pretend if you're american. (it's in the name, it's like a little supermarket/shop usually walking distance from housing areas. you're never really too far away from a mini mart in the caribbean) . also, it's crazy to me how subconsciously my default when writing is to relate to an american audience (I hate yall so bad for that, jk jk, or am i). like where I live, coats are utterly unnecessary. no one wears a coat that isn't a rain coat unless it's part of a fit and they're going to one of the colder malls typically up north, idk I just found that funny.

anyway I'll stop yapping and continue writing the other requests I've gotten. mwah! love yall. thanks for reading!!

[carmenberzattosgf]

this is probably ooc carmen but fuck it we ball….virgin carmy who’s just so stoked to have sex with you that he doesn’t really realize how ““not normal”” his behavior is.

most men you’ve been with get icked at the thought of kisses after blowjobs or giving head after they’ve cum inside—carmen does NOT care. gripping your jaw and tugging you up for messy kisses, so elated and pleased with you that he doesn’t even care that you haven’t swallowed his cum yet. cumming on your tits or your sticky cunt and immediately cleaning up his mess (and giving you another orgasm)

when you tell carmy he’s nasty, he knows it’s a compliment due to your happy tone but doesn’t really know what you mean because to him this is just normal so he’s like ‘:D ? thanks lmao’ -💫

Oh god my brain is going haywire. While I think it’s OOC for Carmy in the show, I definitely think virgin Carmy before the show would do this. Like please the way you worded it as “stoked to have sex with you” is exactly what is going on in Carmy’s brain. Literally just happy to be here vibes.

When you suck him off he refuses to push your head down at all, whatsoever. As soon as he cums in your mouth he’s pulling you off of your knees by your jaw to kiss you. You haven’t even gotten the chance to swallow before his tongue presses into your mouth.

It’s so fucking messy. A clash of lips and tongue. Spit mixed with cum drips out from between his mouth and yours. Carmy isn’t phased at all by it. If anything, the taste of himself on your tongue spurs him on. By the end of it, he’s wiping off the corners of your mouth with his thumb before cleaning the digit off with his mouth.

You assume it must have been a fluke, the way Carmy didn’t care about kissing you with his cum still in your mouth. Every guy you’ve ever been with would have protested, at least a little bit.

It’s not a fluke. Not at all. Carmen’s just straight up filthy. He shows that the next time he fucks you. He has only even cum inside you before, but Carmy has other plans this time. Right after you climax, he’s pulling out of you and fisting his cock at a rapid speed. His eyes stay focused on you and your body. Specifically, on the way your hips twitch with pleasure, and how your head is thrown back exposing the hickies he left earlier. The desperate cries of his name from your lips brings him to the edge. A couple more strokes and he’s cumming all over your stomach. Hot spurts of cum land on lower abdomen and the folds of your cunt.

When you manage to open your eyes again, Carmy wordlessly lowers himself between your legs. His blue eyes look up at you, completely blown out, as his tongue licks a broad stripe from your mound to your navel. He diligently collects every bit of cum on your stomach, swallowing it happily, before he shifts focus to your cunt. Carmen takes the same level of care there, licking up every trace of cum he encounters.

Once you’re all ‘cleaned up’, he works fast to bring you to another orgasm. If there’s one thing for sure about Carmy, it’s that he knows how to use his tongue. He already knows you inside and out, tracing his tongue on your cunt in the perfect way to make you scream. You finish with your thighs clamped around his head and your hands woven into his hair.

“Fuck, Carmy,” you sigh, letting your thighs fall back against the mattress. Carmy looks as happy as can be with a ditzy look in his eyes, and a smile he couldn’t wipe away if he tried. “You’re really nasty,” you laugh.

His head falls to rest on your thigh, looking up at you with a look of devotion in his eyes. “What do you mean?” One of his hands reaches for your own, interlocking his fingers with yours. It’s comments like this that remind you how little experience he has with sex.

“Well… every other guy I’ve been with would never kiss me after a blow job. Let alone willingly lick cum off my stomach.”

“It’s my job to clean you up. I um— trust me, I’m happy to do it.” Carmy blushes as he speaks. He really had no clue that wasn't the norm. He was just doing what felt natural.

"I'm not going to stop you. Besides, it's kinda hot."

"Oh is it?"

So yeah bascially carmy is so into cum play like it’s so very serious. It’s the part of the marking kink he 100% has going on.

[sweetshuga]

Heather ✰ MS

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

bsf!matt! When he talked about how much he missed his ex—totally oblivious to your feelings. [Light angst]

wc. 1.2k

note. English is not my first language! Requested!

Today was just like any other day, mundane to say the least. You had rolled out of bed, washed up, ate breakfast and wore comfy lounge wear. You were just about to watch a movie when your phone rang. Putting the bowl of snacks and the remote down, as you took the call.

Your face immediately lit up with a grin when you heard his voice, suppressing the urge to giggle and kick your feet as you felt that giddy and light feeling. The conversation flowed naturally as you talked, smiling to yourself.

Matt suggested a movie night through the phone, making your grin wider, and of course you said yes. It would’ve been stupid not to.

The drive to his place wasn’t long, but the rain made it a bit difficult to drive. It was raining like cats and dogs—probably the most rainy day in months. It wasn’t raining when you walked out of the house, but it was pouring halfway through the drive.

You groaned in annoyance when you saw the traffic jam in front of you, slowing down your car since it was slippery with all the rain. The time ticked slowly, as slow as the traffic that barely moved an inch.

Your phone buzzed with a message from Matt saying that he already prepared the snacks and not to worry about it. You chuckled to yourself – you were thinking about stopping by a grocery store on your way – before replying with a simple "okay, be there in a bit, traffic jam, yikes".

You finally pulled up at their place, looking in the visor mirror to make sure you looked alright. Sighing as you got out of your car, just to get heavily rained on as you briskly walked to their front door, giving it a few knocks. Nick opened the door and his eyebrows shot up in surprise as he let you in, "You’re soaked," he stated the obvious.

"Pause," he laughed, "shut up, but really, did you fucking walk here? You’re drenched." You shook your head, purposely making the water in your hair go everywhere, eliciting an annoyed groan from Nick. "No, I didn’t, but I did walk here from my car."

"Your car? The one parked right beside our front door?" You laughed heartily at his disbelieving tone, "kid, it’s raining like a fucking waterfall, just a few seconds and I’m wet— pause." Matt walked out of his room at the sound of the chattering downstairs, "Hey, you’re finally here!" He called out from the top of the staircase.

You looked up and playfully rolled your eyes, "yes, finally here, because of a certain someone I nearly drowned in the rain outside." Matt laughed and walked down the stairs, his hair bounced with his steps, looking as good as always.

"Was that funny?" You asked Nick, making him shake his head with a judging look on his face, "where’s Chris by the way-" "he’s sleeping, c’mon let’s go watch that movie, I’ve been waiting for you, you know?"

"I think I know that much," you let yourself get dragged upstairs and into his room, hearing Nick shout that he was gonna nap as well before the door closed behind you with a soft click.

𓆩♡𓆪

The first movie ended rather quickly and as you two scrolled through the catalogue to watch another one, Matt suddenly seemed a bit tense, like he had something to say but didn’t know if he should. And of course you noticed it, you were looking at him the whole time, after all.

"You okay? Y’seem a lil’ tense," he sighed softly, "it’s nothing–" your skeptical look combined with the overall cozy vibe of the room broke down his resolve as quickly as he built it and he spilled his guts out. "Fine, just don’t look at me like that."

You listened intently, making sure he knew that you were listening. "And I don’t know... I just miss her, a lot." You froze, but quickly composed yourself, not wanting him to catch that. "Your ex? Y’still miss her?" Repeating his words, unable to grasp your head around what he just said.

He simply nodded, "I just feel like I did a mistake letting her go like that you know? I should’ve fought for her," you felt a tinge of sadness, you had thought that he finally moved on. It didn’t help that he was giving you mixed signals lately, being clingier than usual, jokingly calling you pet names.

He sighed and kept on telling you how much he missed his ex and how much he wanted her back, and the more he spoke, the worse you felt. You could feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but you knew it would look odd if you start crying.

Desperately trying to gulp back your tears as you listened to him passionately talk about his ex. She was beautiful, smart and just the epitome of a dream girl. He was none the wiser to the tears starting to stream down your face, still rambling on about his and his ex’s happy memories.

You wanted to just run out of there, embarrassed, but the heavy rain had become a thunderstorm outside. You couldn’t possibly drive back home, it would be too dangerous, but you couldn’t just sit there and let your heart break more than it already has.

That’s when you accidentally let out a quiet chocked sob, and Matt immediately tensed and looked at you. "Hey... why... why are you crying?" His voice was soft and concerned as he spoke, the gentleness made your tears stream faster. Your face heated up in embarrassment that he caught you crying.

You stood up abruptly and wiped your tears, "It’s nothing, something got in my eye." Even you knew your excuse sounded like a bunch of bullshit, but what could you say otherwise? That you cried because you thought he finally reciprocated your feelings but was still hung over his ex? "Hey, wait, what—" he called after you as you walked out, making a lame excuse about needing the bathroom.

Once inside the bathroom, you sat on the floor, hugging your knees. You made sure to lock the door, after all, you didn’t want Nick or Chris to catch you crying. A soft knock came on the door, once, twice, and on the third he spoke. "Please, open up."

You kept quiet, not trusting your voice, and just listened to him talk. "I don’t know why you were crying earlier, but talk to me, pretty... Tell me, you know I would listen to you, please?" Your heart ached at the pet name, how could he call you names like that when he couldn't even reciprocate your feelings for him?

You knew it was just something between friends, but that made it hurt more—the realisation that you were just a friend. You were envious of any and every girl he dated or liked, they had the privilege to be liked and loved by the guy you desperately wanted.

After a stubborn silence, he finally picked up on the hint. You said nothing as he sighed and walked away from the door, his footsteps fading down the hall. You couldn’t believe he didn’t try any harder, he had just left like that after a few minutes of trying to talk to you, it all added to the hurt you were feeling.

Your heart ached painfully as more tears fell down your face, but what could he possibly do when you’ve locked yourself in the bathroom and refused to open it—

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a key twisting in the bathroom door lock.

𓆩♡𓆪

wc. 1,279

pt. 2 3 Bonus

Masterlist 𓆩♡𓆪 Taglist

Taglist: @strnilolover @mattsfavoritestar @sophand4n4 @tpwktahlz @lilyyliloo @slut4angstt @pvssychicken @poolover123 @loud-sturniolos @inlovewchrissturniolo @queenshet @chrisstopherfilmed @billiesbabya @h3arts4nat @moosegirl96 @sofiaaguilaxx

© sweetshuga (& the anon that requested this, luv u<3)

[everythingmp3]

pillow talk

adult!Van x fem!reader

plot: you visit your hometown for summer break and can’t take your controversially older girlfriend with you, so you have to handle two weeks of being apart from her - one night, a phone call turns heated when you both realize how badly you’re aching for each other’s touch

authors note: someome asked if I could write a phone sex fic for her, which sounded fun to me, so this is what came of that :) I think at this point I’m fully a gf!Van writer lol I hope you enjoy <3 (ca. 5k words)

warnings: smut, dirty talk/phone sex, masturbation, me subtly pushing the “Van is a switch who prefers to bottom” agenda

two weeks isn´t that much time. it´ll fly by. it´ll be fine. I´ll be back with her before I know it.

that´s what you told yourself over and over before you flew home to see your family.

the years before, you´d always stayed at your parent’s place for at least a month each summer - if not two - but things had changed: you had fallen in love during fall the year before and weren´t used to spending more than a few days without her, so, to make the separation less daunting, you decided to make your stay a fourteen day affair, enough to make your family happy, but not too much to start going crazy from the prolonged distance between you and Van. 

there was no way in hell you´d have told your parents about her, that you were dating someone who could pass as their sibling, so you just let them believe that your palpable joyful, radiant energy came from a successful year in school, a group of lovely friends, a fulfilling job, instead of a woman who was out there missing their daughter so bad that she thought she might lose her mind.

within a few days of being back home, you and her developed a ritual of talking on the phone late at night, since it felt more intimate than rushed calls during the day while you were both out driving or at a cafe, a pillow talk vibe to your calls during those late hours that lent itself to whispered confessions, muffled laughter, losing track of time til you both had to get some sleep around 1 or 2 am. 

that night it was no different.

you´d spent the day at the lake, being social, meeting old friends, so by the time the sun set, you took a long shower, got yourself all nice and fresh, lit a scented candle in your room, opened the windows to hear the faint buzz of the cicadas and tall trees outside, and felt giddy as you called your girl, finally, splayed out over the bed as you pressed your phone to your cheek, leg dangling off the edge, gazing up at the ceiling, already smiling before she even picked up.

you beat her to the first word when the line on the other end opened up and said “heyyy” in a sweet enthusiastic tone.

“hey there” Van responded, her voice all kinds of cracked and raspy, a sound that was deeply familiar to you from when she woke up after a nap, usually a little disoriented and cranky, so you laughed and said “oh, sorry baby, did I wake you up?”, amused when you heard her clearing her throat and trying to pull herself together.

“no no, I mean not really, was just dozing, resting my eyes, as they say” she explained as she sat upright and found a better position. “ah I see, hope you´re not too tired to talk, I´ve been waiting for this all day” you teased, so she insisted “oh no way, I´m wide awake now, trust me sweetie, feel free to chew my ear off. this is just what happens when you´re not here to keep me up til midnight, makes my body realize how old it actually is.”

“well lucky me that I caught you like this, you sound sexy, very dreamy” you cooed into the speaker which made her scoff to mask her bashfulness at the shameless flirting “took you about five seconds to start hitting on me, huh”. 

you grinned to yourself and nodded as if she could see “oh I´ll make it one tomorrow, just you wait”, Van got comfortable and felt herself relax, immediately soothed by your way of lovingly messing with her, even while thousands of miles apart, “perfect, looking forward to it”.

“so” she said, as if she was just then coming to her senses, louder and clearer than before, “how are you holding up over there? anything juicy to tell me about today?”.

you thought for a second and absentmindedly stroked one of your pillows before you said “not really, no, I will have some juicy drama to tell you about if I ever slip up and mention you though, so who knows”. 

“oh, that would turn into a lovely little family affair if you dropped that during dinner, I can imagine, yeah. have you gotten close?” she was genuinely curious, Van was nosy at heart and it killed her that she couldn´t observe it, how you looked and behaved when you were blatantly lying to your parents faces about being single, whether there were little giveaways or if you were truly just a stone cold liar, unlike her, who would´ve accdientally blurted it all out day one if she was in your spot.

“nope, it´s not that hard to hide our relationship, you know, I can tell them stories about things we did, trips we took together, all that, because I just refer to you as a friend, age you down a bit, easy” you told her, phrasing it that way on purpose to tickle her, which worked, a faux-offended gasp on her end of the line before she answered “oh wow.. I´ve been demoted to the friend status, ouch”.

“but isn´t that kinda hot though? being my secret, hm?” you whispered, lascivious and dramatic the way you delivered those words, trying to get under her skin, which wasn´t entirely unsuccessful, Van joked in return and said “your secret? how scandalous” her voice lowered too, matching your energy, which made you miss the banter you two always shared, the casual back and forth during your days together, the little stolen moments where you were both trying your best to make each other laugh or roll your eyes or both.

“very, we´re doing something so fucked up here, baby, depraved really, perverted” you told her, playing it up, turning yourself on a bit by phrasing it that way, thinking of your dynamic as more forbidden than it actually was, which didn´t escape her, so she interrupted your thought and said “oh yeah, our take out and move nights would have people clutching their pearls, I´m sure”.

you weren´t gonna let up, you were in a mood, which made you wanna push her buttons a bit, - perhaps the fact that you were ovulating didn´t help - so you said “well… if I went into detail about how I´ve had my way with you on the couch you´re sitting on right now, then yeah, they probably would”

Van went quiet for a moment. you hit a nerve. got the upper hand with that one. your words forced some memories back into her mind that made her shiver: vivid flashes of being ruined by you, her hand resting right where she´d once held on for dear life while you´d fingered her within and inch of her life while sucking on her tits to a point of having her beg for mercy. she crossed her legs out of instinct and sighed “damn you´re in heat, huh?”. 

“yes, yes I am” you admitted, unwilling to sugar-coat how horny five days of no touching whatosever had left you, after weeks and weeks of being used to having access to her all the time. 

“so, tell me… what are you wearing right now?” you asked her, which got a laugh of surprise out of her that made you heart melt, a high-pitched sound that made her sound like she was your age. 

“oh it´s so fucking sexy, brace yourself” she said, so you smiled and told her “yeah go on”.

“my big white t-shirt that has a hole at the sleeve and my gray sweatpants. try not to moan too loudly imagining that” she uttered, which did give you an image that was enticing because you could easily picture the rest: her hair effortlessly messy from the humidity of the shower, falling down her shoulders in pretty waves, her face bare and rosy-cheeked, her lips glistening with that vanilla coconut balm she used, the taste of home, of soft kisses before bed, her body at ease in those wide clothes. 

“no bra, right?” you inquired, already knowing the obvious answer, but leaning into the sex-hotline voice you´d been trying on for the past minutes, which was getting to her more than she cared to admit, so she scoffed “yeah that´s right, you perv.” eliciting a laugh from you too that made you break character and fear that your parents might´ve been woken up by it, a grin of success on her face when she heard it. 

“fuck I wish I was there..” you groaned, theatrically rolling over on the bed and flinging your free arm out like a lovestruck teenager in a 90s romcom.

“I wanna feel you up soo bad. bet you´re so warm and soft right now” you whined to her, which made her admit to the same feeling “hm, wish you were here too. I miss how handsy you get, feels wrong not to be groped out of nowhere all day. also, your turn, what are you sporting for the night” she asked, taking the lead.

“well it´s hot as hell here, even at night, so just a thin tank and cotton panties” you told her and caressed your own bare thigh the way she might´ve if she was there in that moment.

she gave a low whistle, which made you shush her “shut up” as your face heated up from the feeling of being cat-called by her, as if she wasn´t your girlfriend, as if she was a hot stranger coming onto you. 

“next time just lie and say you´re in the nude, for my sake” she added, twirling her hair while picturing you like that, naked on top of your childhood bed, glistening from your freshly applied lotion, a glow of sweat and too much sun all over your skin, a sharp hit of desire to her body when she imagined the space where your thighs would part, where she might crawl up on that bed and push her face between your legs, feel and taste and please you. god. she missed you. 

“will do” you said and heard the labored breath on the end of the line, so you took the chance and set your mind on riling her up as much as possible while not being in the same room as her. challenge accepted. 

“you know…” you said, which made her snap out of her fantasies, “yeah?”.

“I´ve been fantasizing about you” you said, matter-of-factly, as if it was just an afterthought, trying to reel her in, peek her interest. 

“go on…” she said, barely hiding her pressing need to hear more.

“been dreaming of what I´ll do to you once I´m back home.” you went on, your voice silky smooth, buttering her up.

“oh, is that so?” she said, trying her best not to give away how much she loved hearing you talk like that, her tone huskier than before, that low, achingly attractive sound you´d come to crave during the day while waiting to speak to her later on.

“hmmm…been getting a bit too worked up actually, it´s intense. can´t help it though, I´m not used to being away from you for so long, my body is in withdrawal.” 

“hm, poor thing” she cooed, deeply pleased by your open admission, so you feigned offense and said “oh wow, thanks for the concern”, which made her smile, the expression audible when she said “oh come on, you know it´s no different for me! I just don´t do anything about it and stoically suffer through it, unlike you”.

you gasped a little “what´s that supposed to mean? you think I´ve been jerking off a bunch?”.

Van had a thing for getting a rise out of you, it wasn´t a secret, so she continued the thought “I know for a fact that you have, you´re a bit more… how shall I put this. efficient? in that regard. I mean it as a compliment, it´s hot”.

she wasn´t wrong, you were defintiely more active than her when it came to masturbation, which had lead to a few moments of her asking to watch, or even walking in on you because you´d purposely left the door cracked before getting yourself off.

“well, you do know me, yeah, I´ve been trying to help myself, more or less successfully…”.

you'd definitely had one or two experiences the days before where you´d thought of her with your hand between your legs, or a vibrator pressed against yourself, giving up mid-session when you could already tell that the orgasm would only leave you disappointed and wanting more.

“send a video next time.” Van said, dead-pan, a dry delivery that somehow sounded hotter than if she´d said it playfully, like it was a demand almost.

“uh, I´m not filming a sex tape in my childhood bedroom, thank you very much” you joked, which didn´t deter her, she just said “go to the bathroom then. or the guest room, or basement, I´m not picky.” you couldn´t tell if she was joking. she coulnd´t either.

“nope, no way, I want you to reallyyyy miss me by the time I get back, so I´m not sending you anything, not even clothed.”

“so cruel” she uttered, “hmm” you agreed, a moment of silence before she felt the boldness get a hold of her again.

“well, I don´t even need visuals, just tell me about it, give me something baby, please, look at it as charity for the elderly.” that made you laugh and give in, you told her “alright, alright, let´s see” while thinking of something to say that would get her hot and bothered.

“well… when I touch myself I don´t think of memories with you, but all the things I wanna do to you when I see you again.” she made a pleased “hmm” sound, urging you to elaborate.

“the moment I´m back, I´m eating you out til you´ve drenched my face and the sheets. won´t stop til you´re shaking and crying.” 

in that moment, you won, big time. you understood her to her core. her one big weakness, always, was being aggressivley pursued, so the second you stopped talking and the words settled in her mind and then in her body, her soul, she let out an almost pained “jesus christ…” a pang of need at her core then, heating pooling at her lower stomach, her face suddenly pink. 

you didn´t waste any time and kept going “hmm, gonna get my fill of you, gonna make you come over and over and over, won´t let you sleep. you´re so sensitive, it´s fucking addictive, you know that? I bet you´d come just from having me grind down against your through my clothes right now, hm?”. you were hitting her in all of her weak spots, as if it was nothing, proving your power over her in a way that made her body burn up.

Van´s breathing was heavy by then, her tone quiet and strained by lust as she tried her best to speak “yeah… yeah probably.. wouldn´t take much at all.. fuck go on please, what else are you gonna do.” you had her right where you wanted her. she was turning needy, desperate, weak, just how you remembered from all those times you´d come onto her before. 

“gonna kiss you and bite you and lick you all over” you were getting aroused from our own words then, so you shifted on the bed and sounded breathy and worked up as well “gonna grab you all over, rub up against you all eager and starved, gonna have you ride my fingers until you´ve drenched them.. my face too.. gonna ruin you, just the way you need, I promise baby” you told her, half speaking, half moaning the words.

“god you´re in heat…” Van groaned, turned on to no end form all the images you were conjuring up in her mind, her neck tingling where she imagined your kisses, her tits aching where she imagined your fingers digging in, her cunt throbbing where she imagined your mouth, your tongue, a strap.

“fuck I wish you were here right now, I wanna hear you whining and begging for me so bad” you confessed, your top clinging to your skin where you were getting damp from violent desire.

“fuck you´re killing me here, you know that” Van cursed into the speaker, so you begged “please touch yourself, please, tell me how wet you are… you´re soaked already, right?”.

Van did as you told her to and pushed her hand down her pants, no underwear in the way to keep her from immediately slipping her fingers over her slick folds, between her lips, collecting the arousal, lazily, but eagerly. 

she let out a whimper that nearly made you choke on your own spit, so you pressed your face against your phone as close as possible and said “oh god, yeah, keep going please, do it the way I would, rub your clit nice and slow, tease yourself the way I would if I was there, do it like me”. 

that instruction nearly did her in. she remembered your fingertips, the motions that always teased wild moans out of her, she imitated them and felt herself growing wetter by the second, so she moaned “fuck baby..” and kept going, legs wider apart then, her breaths and sounds pleasure driving you insane over the phone, your own body twitching with unreleased tension then as you could see it all so well in your mind, Van pressed back against the couch cushions with her hands down her pants, red splotches blooming all over her pretty pale neck the way they did over her whole body during sex.

“feels good right, to do it slow, to ache for more?” you asked, greedy for her whined words, so she said “god…yes” barely coherent, “go a bit faster now, give yourself some more” you told her and heard the result, a sharp cry as she started jerking herself off harder.

“baby.. I wish I could watch you do that right now and then have you rub your pussy all over mine, feel how wet we both are til were shaking and sweating” the words tumbled out without a filter then, you werent thinking, just spilling your thoughts, so she moaned “fucking hell” while trying to get off, you knew she needed more, it was the moment where you´d switch strategies, so you told her “put your fingers in, please”.

Van inched two of her fingers into her aching, soaked cunt and winced a little before it started to feel good, pushing herself in knuckle deep then, telling herself that they were your fingers, gripping the pillow next to her to hold on as she whined and started curling her fingers up.

“Jesus I can hear how wet you are…” you moaned, almost dying then from the sound of her fucking herself like that, faint squelching sounds reaching your ear that made you jealous beyond belief, aching for the feel of her pussy streched around your fingers, desperate to have her rock her hips down to hump your palm. 

without any hesitation you pushed your hand into your panties and started jerking off too, imagining that it was her you were jerking off, her juices, her folds, her clit, her cunt you were feeling slick and pulsating against your hand, mirroring what she was doing and pushing two of your fingers in, fast, no resistance at all, your arousal from before intense enough to leave you wet to a degeee where you could’ve taken a pretty big toy without any pain, suddenly wishing she was there to fuck you, to fill you, take you.

she heard what you were doing and kept moving her fingers in and out of herself, switching to a slower pace to draw it out, to play with herself the way you would.

“I miss how you fuck me, wish you were here kissing my neck while doing this, fuck” she whimpered and lost her composure as you couldn´t keep lying on your back and got up to straddle your hand and ride your own fingers, one hand holding the phone to your ear as the other was being soaked, your hips rocking back and forth, a whiny maon escaping you as you tried to find the best angle. 

“baby I miss you so much” you whined, needy and emotional then on top of being painfully horny, “miss you too god” she groaned in response, “I´m drenched just from listening to you, I´m so fucking wet” you whined to her, which gave Van a final blow to her sanity that made her twist and turn on the couch while adding a third finger to really satisfy her craving, to overwhelm herself the way you might, to come as hard as she was dying to.

“let me hear you please put your mouth right at the speaker” she begged, “you too” you demanded, so you both moved your phones right over your lips as you chased your shared climax and touched yourselves, fucked your own fingers, reached a point of pre-orgasm neediness that made her moan “fuck I´m so close, I´m gonna come” so you pleaded “just a bit more, wait for me, wanna come with you” so she held out as you fell onto your back again and shoved your fingers in as deep as possible, trying not to be too loud, hitting your weak spot over and over until your started clenching around your fingers and whined “I´m coming baby, come with me” which was all it took for her to let go and let the orgasm rip through her so hard she wasn´t sure if she´d squirted or if she had just gotten that wet, riding the high out while you did the same, breathless whimpers and moans echoing back and forth between your ears, until you both went slack, let out a shuddering deep breath at the same time, and felt a dazed, satisfied smile tugging at the corners of your mouths, your eyes still shut, your bodies sticky with sweat, your legs trembling, your arms cramped up from the holding of the phones and the fucking, a moment of peaceful, charged silence before you came to again.

“well.” Van said. “gotta go wash my hand now..” but before she could get up you said “no no wait!” which made her pause and say “huh?”, still reeling, a bit out of it.

“lick it off… it´s what I would do. do it how I would” you told her, which made her laugh in a way that gave away how winded she still was, “jesus youre greedy tonight” she teased and held her hand up before her face, fingers glistening in the dim light.

“I know you taste good, so. do it for me, please baby” you said, vocally batting your eyelashes at her, so she caved and said “alright” and licked most of the cum off her fingers, imagining it was your cum instead, which made her do it more thoroughly, the sloppy sounds pretty audible to you, so you sighed “hmm” in approval.

“you got me good baby. real good. fuck” she sighed and shook her head with a dazed, pleased expression while feeling a few last aftershocks tingling all over her body. 

“feels better, doesn´t it? when you let it out?” you said, feeling a cool night breeze come in through the window then and caress your limp, warm body. 

“yeah I needed that…I´m lucky you´re not as repressed as I am, really helps me out here” she said, only half joking, since she did thank her lucky stars that you weren´t shy and pushed her to yield to her desires in a way she never would´ve with someone else. 

“my pleasure” you whispered into your phone and took a sip of the water from your nightstand. just as you wanted to lay down again, you heard a scratching sound at the door and said “fuck, wait that´s the cat, she won´t give up til I open the door, give me a second” you told her and stood up to go let your little guest in.

Van laughed and said “sweet” as you ushered your childhood cat in, “yeah, she´s an old lady now, gotta help her onto the bed, she can´t jump that high anymore” you announced before you let out a groan from lifting her onto the bed and watched her suss out a good spot to lay down as you did the same.

“well, lucky for her, you loveee having old ladies in your bed” Van said, clearly very pleased with herself for how fast she came up with that out-of-pocket response, a scandalized gasp on your end that made her feel very smug before you chided her “you´re disgusting”, secretly approving of her remark of course.

“here, say hi to my strange girlfriend” you told your cat and held the phone out and to your surprise she actually let out a gentle meow, so Van cooed “ohh that´s adorable. damn I wish I was there to see.. are you petting her? I think I can hear the purring”.

“yeah, she´s getting all the caresses and kisses I can´t give you right now” you answered, smooth enough to make her feel a bit flustered then. “lucky girl” Van mused, endeared by the mental image of you half undressed lounging on a bed with a little creature snuggled up to you.

“but uh-” you said a moment after, trying to be earnest, to say something straight from the heart, so she didn´t interrupt you and gave you the time you needed to gather your thoughts, sensing your shift in tone. “I do miss you a lot. just so you know. like a lot, a lot. especially at night, this bed feels way too big, I don´t even want all this space for myself. ugh. I miss sleeping on your chest.” 

she was quiet for a second because she was too busy feeling her heart melt to respond immediately. “yeah I miss you too. not to make it a competition but I think you´re more miss-able than me, so I have it worse. I keep reaching over at night to put my arm over you, I miss the sounds you make when you nuzzle up to me.” 

“you know, it´s kinda wild…” you trailed off.

“hm, what?” she asked, speaking softly. 

“I used to spend some pretty horrible nights in this exact spot when I was younger, so I kinda wish I could go back in time to tell myself how lovely things are gonna get down the line. I wasn´t very good at being hopeful back then, so. yeah.” 

“aw baby…” she said, clearly affected by it, “breaking my heart here. I can´t take that image of you all upset and alone like that… now I wish I could go back in time too, to help you, or you know, hold you.”

you smiled fondly “of course you´d say that instead of thinking of yourself when you were younger, with way worse circumstances than mine. I love you.”

Van was selfless in love, devoted, loyal to a fault, you knew this, of course you did, but in that moment you were reminded of it in a way that made you tear up, which she heard, so she uttered “you´re making me choke up here, fuck. I love you too, so much.”

she shed a few tears, so did you, perhaps a little raw from the intense release a few minutes earlier, which ended in you eventually laughing, a sniffling sound before you said “sorry for getting all sappy on you, I mean it though, I´m so glad I ended up with you.”

“oh don´t be sorry” she said and wiped the corner of her eyes “happy tears are good, didn´t shed many of those before we met. so yeah. I´m glad too. that´s an understatement, but you get it.”

“I don´t wanna hang up yet…” you sighed, which was a shard sentiment, so she said “sure let´s just stay like this for a moment, we don´t have to talk, we could just lay together for a bit, relax”.

“okay yeah” you agreed, pleased by the idea of just hearing each other breathe.

“let me go to bed real quick, get comfortable” Van said and got up from the couch, which made her groan after having sat in one spot for so long, which made you laugh a little too loudly, so she exclaimed “oh, I`m glad my sounds of agony do it for you, really”.

“oh yeah, always” you whispered and got up from your spot as well “gonna go brush my teeth, I´ll be back in like two minutes” you told her and put your phone down on your blanket before rushing to your bathroom sink.

within no time, you were back, half under the covers, and said “okay, I´m back. my cat is curled up right by my head now by the way”.

Van was laying on her side by then and smiled “she smells good I bet, cats always smell like sweet dust or something”.

“wish you could meet her” you mused while stroking the soft fur, “she´d like you, she´s always been like her mom, prefers the ladies”. Van laughed “ah, a clever one then”.

“maybe I´ll sneak you in here one day, who knows” you whispered, a hint of mischief to your tone.

“oh sure, just have me stay in some nearby hotel like I´m your mistress that you can only invite over when the wife and kids are gone” she joked. “such a storyteller, huh” you teased “go on, flesh that fantasy out for me, will you” you told her, so she indulged you and spun a little tale about her being your side piece in some alternative universe.

by the time it reached 1 am, you both started slurring your words and felt your eyes get heavy, so eventually you said good night and hung up, both of you falling into a heavy, deeply relaxed sleep afterwards, sinking into a world of dreams that were just as soft and soothing and pleasurable as your phone call. 

the next morning, you woke up to a notification that Van had just transferred fifteen dollars to your account with an attached message that said “buy that book you told me about a few days ago, gotta have something to talk about later :)” , so you sent her a few sparkling pink hearts in response before you got up and realized that spending some time apart wasn´t all that bad after all, since it brought out new ways to get close to each other, to be sweet and attentive, even while you were separated by multiple state lines, proof that no amount of distance could keep you apart, ever.

[deeversuswords]

‧˚₊ Truth Exposer 1: Uncovered — Ch.10

PAIRING — Pro Hero Bakugou Katsuki/Vigilante F!Reader RATING — Explicit CONTAINS — heavy angst, enemies to lovers (sort of), mutual pining, slow burn, eventual smut, moral ambiguity, cheating (not between katsuki/reader), unhealthy relationships, unhealthy coping mechanisms, grief/mourning, dark themes (past abuse, stalking, kidnapping, torture, quirk trafficking), violence, swearing, open but hopeful ending, dual pov (mostly reader), no use of y/n ◆ married bakugou katsuki—not to reader—and has a daughter too ◆ characters are in their late 20s SUMMARY — Running away would be the sensible thing to do. Getting as far away as possible from him, the one person who’s your ticket to losing your freedom. Not searching for him out of stupid curiosity and showing up at the last place you should: his house. They say curiosity killed the cat, but yours seems to always end up as the key unlocking doors that should probably stay locked. Because when you open the door to Bakugou Katsuki’s life, it’s not a loving marriage, not a happy family of three you find, but falsity, forced duty, and a dark secret that threatens his very own life. Bakugou Katsuki, the pro hero tasked with catching you and your downfall. And you, the vigilante exposing ugly truths for a living—his salvation.

➥AO3 LINK // ➥AO3 CHAPTER LINK // ➥TUMBLR CHAPTERS LIST

CHAPTER SUMMARY — The confrontation with Bakugou ends in one breakdown and one mistake.

CHAPTER WARNINGS — masturbation

WORD COUNT — ~4.7k

a/n: once upon a time, this chapter was 4.2k words and a little bit different in vibe, but i woke up on friday with a loose screw. i hope you enjoy the aftermath of my loose screw that prevented a portion of scene 1 from being cut out :D

“The hell you doin’ with Izuku?” Katsuki growled the second you were both out of sight, making a grab at you.

You dodged. Stayed silent. Quickened your pace, beelining for the bar where you leaned forward on your forearms, the slight arch in your back teasing.

Katsuki looked.

Of course, he fucking looked.

He had no choice but to roam the curve of your spine down to your ass as he stomped up beside you, fuming like a bull surrounded by red. You were as hot, as annoying, and as madness-inducing as the blood scalding his veins.

“We don’t usually take requests for custom drinks, but I could make an excep—”

“Get us two whiskey highballs,” Katsuki cut in, glaring at the bartender as he slid onto the stool closest to you. Making an exception? Damn bartender, trying to flirt. The bar was supposed to be order-and-go, but with no one around, he shot his shot. His leg rested against the back of your thighs. “Make ‘em strong.”

You tensed, twisting at the waist to shoot him a warning look.

“R-right away, sir,” the bartender stammered, stepping away.

“I don’t appreciate you taking liberties with my drink,” you said.

“And I don’t appreciate you takin’ liberties with Izuku. Your point?”

Lowering your gaze to the bar, you traced your fingertips over the cracks in the wood. Light glinted off the surface, harsher in places where the bartender had wiped away condensation or spillage. “I don’t think you realize how your behavior looks right now,” you drawled, meeting his eyes. “Really fucking inappropriate for a married man.”

You were just as inappropriate. Observed him from under your lashes, all defiant and smug, like you were perched on some throne, and he was at your feet. Tolerated his leg against the back of your thighs. Shifted your weight, popping your hip out. Swore and kicked his blood pressure into next gear.

He’d heard you swear before—that tongue of yours could be as scandalous as his, dirty and cruel—but right now, he found it provocative. Too provocative. He shoved his sleeves up to his elbows, hands itchy for the softness of your skin.

“That’s rich comin’ from you, Truthie.” Katsuki matched your tone, knocking the back of your thighs twice with his leg. “Goin’ after Izuku? Cheap as hell.”

“Is it? Since when?” You turned sideways and bent lower, filling the air with your scent, stealing his breath for a second. “We’re not involved in any way. And Midoriya and I? Adults. Single, not-committed-to-anyone adults.”

“Yeah?” His lips quirked up with cruelty. “Then what the hell were you cryin’ for when I kissed my wife?”

Your nails scraped the bar top. Smug confidence drained from your face, and you tried to back off, but he clasped your wrist and yanked you in. You gasped, lost your balance, and caught yourself on his leg.

“What are you doing? Let go before someone sees,” you hissed, fighting his grip. “Do you want ‘trouble in paradise’ trending?”

He resisted barking a laugh. The same shit he threw in wife-on-paper’s face you tossed at him. Goddamn. There had to be a string of his frequency inside you, because what the hell? Exact words. Exact meaning. This was fun, and he wanted more of it.

“You’re a walking contradiction, you know that?” His thumb skimmed your pulse, blunt nail grazing. It raced like a small animal cornered. His own wasn’t much calmer.

“You’re no better.” You sounded breathless. “You claim to hate her, but your actions say otherwise.”

“That somethin’ you should tell a married man?” Katsuki slid off the stool, losing your touch on his leg. His heart stumbled in his chest from what he was about to do. His body shielded half of yours, and the ongoing contact. Mouth at your ear, he rasped. “Really fuckin’ inappropriate.”

Anger sliced through your blown-out pupils. You fisted his sweater, ready to tear into him, but were forced to drop it. The bartender returned with the drinks, then scurried away. As he should. The perimeter was dangerous; two predators were circling each other.

Katsuki maintained eye contact as he reached for the glass, condensation dampening his palm. Bubbles broke the surface, tiny drops landing on his nose when he took a deep swig. His throat worked it down, the alcohol feeding the fire, wrecking him and creeping into his already-drunk brain.

“Thought you knew better than fallin’ for appearances,” he said.

You copied him. Your lips wrapped around the glass rim. Ice cubes clinked when you tilted it back for a sip. Again, when you set it on the bar. The whole act dripped fury and seduction wrapped in one aggravating package. It completely wrecked his focus.

The surroundings blurred. All he knew was you, your imprint on the glass and the blood pumping violently into his dick.

Impossible. Impossible. Impossible.

But he craved a taste.

“That would apply if I knew you, but I don’t. And I have no interest to.”

You tried for an unimpressed once-over but blew it the second your eyes caught the strain in his pants. You swallowed so hard, Katsuki was tempted to take a mouthful of the alcohol and feed it to you himself. To keep your throat from drying up.

Damn.

Was he seeing this right? Was he having the same effect on you? Turning you on?

“Here’s the thing, Bakugou,” you continued, picking at your clothes. Adjusting them. “I get that Midoriya is your friend, but stay out of it unless you plan on explaining why you’re acting like some jealous ex.”

“You want him?”

“None of your business. This conversation is officially over.”

You swiped the drink off the bar and turned to leave, just like that night. He’d done nothing then because he couldn’t, but things were different now. His hand slapped over your hip and pulled you into him, back flush to his front. Things that shouldn’t be touching…fucking touching.

“Are you—”

“Shut up,” he gritted, a hot shiver rolling over his skin. His restraint shuddered. “Don’t you dare squirm, or we’re makin’ the headlines within the hour.”

You regarded him from the corner of your eye. “You’re playing a dangerous game right now.”

“We both are,” he scoffed. “Three things, Truthie. Where the hell were you and my so-called wife that night? What was that smell on your shirt? And what do you want from Izuku?”

“No idea what you’re talking about. Why are you smelling my shirt? Again, none of your business.” Your ass pushed back into him as you shifted to elbow his gut. “Let me be clear. I don’t care about you or your life, so stop sniffing around mine. It’s creepy.”

He bit back a groan, not letting go. Shit didn’t hurt, but the friction? A real fucking problem. “Yeah, right. That’s why you’re hidin’ shit from me about my life. Who the hell you think you’re foolin’, huh?”

You shook your head, exasperated. “You’re being ridiculous. Why would I hide anything about your life when you’re not even on my interest radar?” You smacked your hand over his and tried to pry it off. “And move your hard, married dick away. It’s against the wrong ass.”

“Move your ass away from it. You got that option.”

His gaze dragged slowly down your spine, stopping at the source of your supposed discomfort. The visual shot straight to his dick, beyond calming at this point. It jerked against your ass. Leaked into his boxers.

You swiveled around and jumped back two steps. He would’ve taken it as rejection—if not for your ragged breathing, your thighs clenched tight, and the way you looked at him. Hungry, but scared. Because he’d outed you for the liar you were.

“No interest, huh?” His hand slipped into his pocket, tugging the fabric inward until the outline of his dick was front and center. “You sure?”

“Bakugou—”

“Tell me what I wanna know. I’ll pretend you ain’t ruinin’ your panties ‘cause of my married dick.���

Your composure seemed to crumble under the crude truth. You screwed your eyes shut, smacked a hand over your forehead, and breathed in and out for a few long seconds. When your eyes opened, they were dark with defiance, challenge, and something else that felt like your hand on him, giving him some relief.

“The only thing I’m ruining is my day. Married men, especially ones like you, don’t get me dripping. But you know what does?” You were back in his space, dragging a finger down the ridge of his abs. “Cute, attentive, single guys like the one waiting for me at the table.”

Katsuki instantly bristled. His jaw locked. “Don’t you dare.”

“Or what?” You tilted your head. “What are you going to do, Dynamight? Cock block your friend because…?”

“You—”

Both of your heads snapped toward the furious staccato of heels. There was only one person who could be behind that.

“Perfect timing.” You reached for his glass and pushed it toward him, tapping his chest like he’d just been rejected by his crush, and you were there to placate his pride. “Cool off. Drink up. Or ask your wife to do it. Or both. Have fun. You need it.”

His fist came down hard on the bar as you skipped past, rattling the glasses. A snarl tore from his chest.

Fucking brat.

Damn little shit.

Pain in his ass.

He was going to ruin your fucking night. If you seriously thought you were getting any dick tonight, you were dead wrong.

Not only were you hiding shit from him, and lying straight to his face about it, but you left him with a raging boner that felt like it might explode from pressure, and dared to pretend you didn’t want him.

At the very least, for a one-time fuck.

“It’s been fifteen minutes. What the hell are you doing?” wife-on-paper seethed, getting in his face.

He ignored her. Swept your glass off the bar and downed it, licking his lips to catch the lingering hint of your taste, while she watched. The game he played was dangerous, risky, but he knew wife-on-paper already crossed you out. She’d never make the connection.

You were Izuku’s option, or whatever. Not…

“Katsuki. Are you listening?”

He wouldn’t be, if he had a choice. She was suffocating. Trapping him. Leeching his freedom.

“Gonna take a piss,” he spat, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “Don’t follow. It ain’t code for a quick fuck.”

On his way to the restroom, he flicked at the stupid wedding ring with his thumb. He hated it, more and more every day.

And he hated his name in her mouth, hated the way she demanded answers she wasn’t entitled to.

But above all, he hated her touch. With the same intensity he craved yours.

You.

The dangerous threat to his sanity that had him checking he was alone before heading to the last stall.

The worst temptation that got his hand in his pants, gripping tight around the base of his cock before the door was even shut and locked.

The unholy corruption that stripped away whatever inhibition he had left, making him free himself, spit into his palm, and jerk off like a fucking loser in a restaurant restroom.

A sin.

But his nonetheless.

Married men, especially ones like you, don’t get me dripping. But you know what does? Cute, attentive, single guys like the one waiting for me at the table.

Bullshit. Lies. All goddamn lies. It wasn’t guys like that, or guys like Izuku. It was him. Somehow, a piece of your world revolved around him, and that was why you were acting out.

He knew that now. Felt it in his soul. Katsuki had fucked his own heart over thinking it was impossible, only to be proven wrong by one reckless interaction you chased. It was you who followed him when you could’ve stayed seated at the table, playing stranger until the dinner ended.

Something was there. Something meant for him. Whatever it was, he’d capitalize on it.

Fuck broke from his lungs, raw and needy, as he braced himself on the cold tile, half-lidded gaze shamelessly watching his hand stroking faster. The pitiful organ in his chest pounded desperately, relishing the crumb of hope, eager to claim your something.

His choppy breaths were suddenly too loud in his ears, drying his mouth. He licked his lips and kicked back a groan, reminded of the scrap of your taste he gathered off the glass rim. Your teasing touch on his abs returned like a ghost, together with the sound of his hero name rolling off your tongue.

Three things that warped his brain into an illusion where you kissed him like an addiction. Demanded him like an obsession. Said his given name like ownership.

Because he was your favorite.

Katsuki. Katsuki. Katsuki.

Katsuki saw fucking stars as he came all over his hand and tiles, holding his breath so no sounds left and shaking from every fiber of his rigid muscles. Your imaginary voice saying his name kept him going extra seconds until nothing dripped out of him, except sweat.

As he tried to catch his breath, panting quietly, his mouth twisted into a scowl. He glared at his filthy hand. His dick was happy, but he was getting pissed. That shit was embarrassingly unsatisfying. And now he had to play cleaner, wipe every drop of evidence, otherwise his face would be slapped next to some ridiculous headline.

Cum found in a popular restaurant’s restroom. Shocker! It’s Dynamight’s.

“Fuckin’ hell are you a moron,” he muttered, ripping some toilet paper and wiping his spent dick raw. “Bakugou…Katsuki, huh.”

The idiot who didn’t know what giving up was and put everything on the line to win where it mattered. The stubborn bastard who never went down without a fight.

He needed his freedom, and he knew exactly who the perfect candidate was to help him get it.

You welcomed the breeze cooling your flushed skin as you stood on the sandy border, close enough for the ocean washing over the beach to lap at your shoes with the last of its strength. Eyes lost to the starry surface. Mind so far away it’d need a beat longer to return.

The world was small, despite its size. When you had accepted Midoriya’s invitation, it didn’t even cross your mind that it’d turn out like this. You expected a meal, drink, and light conversation, not Bakugou and his wife. Not getting a kick out of having your legs tangled with his under the table, while she clung pathetically to him. Not crumbling under the pressure of the thrill and seeking more of it. And definitely, not losing the reins on your composure and brain.

Him, hard and twitching against your ass, nearly checkmated you. Damn off-limits bastard got you wet and needy in record time. You were so ready for him, you probably would’ve ignored your spasming moral compass and let him bend you over that bar to fuck whatever he wanted out of you if he asked. Himself out of your system, preferably.

He was like a virus, plaguing your mind, infecting your rationality, disrupting your flow.

He was present, even now, an hour after leaving the restaurant and sending him and Miyuki off with a cab. Putting thoughts in your head and making it awkward to be with Midoriya. You already knew how the night would end—with a fantasy of him and your fingers buried deep.

“I had a wonderful time, Midoriya. Thank you,” you forced yourself to say, kicking lightly at the sand.

He shifted beside you and cleared his throat. “Me too. It was great, and, uh…unexpected.”

“Crazy how small the world can be.”

“Yeah. Um…” He hesitated over your last name, drawing your attention to him. His eyes fastened on yours. Nervous, yet still glowing with the same interest they’d held all night, twisting your stomach with guilt. “I wanted to say thank you. For agreeing to join Kacchan and his wife. You didn’t have to. It was just a casual dinner between us, but you went along with it anyway. I’m really grateful.”

What was it about Bakugou that had you igniting like a supernova, indifferent to whether he met you halfway or snuffed out the light? The forbidden? The one-sided past?

Midoriya was right here—well-mannered, kind, and attentive, just like he’d been since you met up at seven. Good-looking, too. Yum, as Ayumu said.

But he wasn’t your type. Or maybe he wasn’t because you’d never had a piece of someone like him. Sometimes, that’s all it took to realize something was exactly what you needed.

Did you want a piece of Midoriya?

“Kacchan?” you prodded, keeping your tone light.

He blinked, taken aback, and let out an awkward laugh. “It’s what I call him,” he said. “I’ve been doing it since we were kids. Some habits die hard, but honestly, I think some stick with you for life, no matter what you do.”

You silently agreed, guilty of the same. Your pin boards could attest to it. You’d tried using tech to puzzle things together, but staring at monitors while hunting for patterns felt like undeserved punishment. The old-school way was ingrained in your instinct. Post-its. Color coding. Strings connecting the push pins across the board. Hours upon hours of staring until your eyes were dry.

“You two are childhood friends?” Midoriya nodded, and a playful smile bloomed on your face. An idea sparked in your brain like an exposed wire. “Does he have a nickname for you, too?”

“Deku.”

“Deku? As in your hero name?”

“It’s a long story.” Something akin to nostalgia settled over his features as he turned his gaze to the rippling waves. “He hasn’t called me that outside of hero work in years. Definitely better than me at breaking habits.” Another laugh. Quieter. Softer. “Sometimes I slip on duty, call him Kacchan, and he chews me out for it.”

They were close, making Midoriya perfect for your backup plan. If Bakugou turned out to be a villain—or if he was in danger—Midoriya would act, if you needed him to.

“Was he always like this? Snappy, impatient, blunt?”

“Eh?”

You winced. Real subtle. Might as well write on your forehead: Interested in Bakugou Katsuki. Send info. Your fingers found a loose thread on the hem of your shirt and crushed it.

Midoriya mulled over your words. “Did he say anything when you went for a drink? I know he’s got a way with words.”

Just say? Try say and do.

Warmth flared in your cheeks, your heart stumbling into a feverish beat that incinerated the last of your inner peace. It pulsed lower, between your legs, waves like tiny whimpers, desperate for the slightest touch. As you shifted your weight, your slicked panties dragged over your aching clit like a tongue, and you mentally cursed your whole existence.

You shuddered. Violently. Like you’d been electrocuted.

Bakugou’s imaginary, pesky presence intensified, encasing your body, burrowing into your flushed skin. He hijacked your inner voice, cockiness cranked to the maximum.

Thinkin’ of me eatin’ you out when he’s right there? Inappropriate, Truthie.

“Are you okay?” Midoriya asked.

Nah. Needs a ride on my tongue.

You slapped your hands over your face. “I think the salt in the air finally got me. My eyes sting.” Your brain stung too…from cuckooness. Stupid, stupid brain.

“Allow me to check?” Midoriya stepped in front of you, his body blocking some of the breeze. “It’s getting quite windy, so it could be sand.”

Peeking at him through your fingers, you fluttered your lashes to sell the story as you prepared to reject his offer. You must’ve looked like a bad comedy personified. “It’s getting better. Thanks.”

“You don’t seem well.”

That’s cause she wants co—

“I’m fine!”

You jumped back to put some distance, only to lose your balance in your haste. And Midoriya was right there, catching you and pulling you close. If there’d been space between you before, now there was barely any.

Two surprised breaths met in the middle.

The air thickened, scented by the possibility of mistakes. Midoriya’s hand, still resting on your elbow, glided down to your hand. His thumb brushed hesitantly over your pulse, already in overdrive.

Bakugou did that too. But he was confident in the way he touched, bold in how he teased that sensitive spot. For someone so crude, his seduction was dark, dangerous, deep. Wrapped in expensive silk.

Midoriya’s was probably more like cotton. Fluffy. Consistent. Surface-level.

“We should probably go,” you said, pretending not to see how his head inclined a fraction toward you. “It’s getting late.”

It was always in the late hours, under the reign of night and its darkness, when impulses were harder to resist and mistakes tended to happen. You were prone to one tonight. He seemed to be, too.

Midoriya nodded, withdrew his hand, and smiled.

His eyes didn’t crinkle.

You were halfway up the stairs when his hand returned to your wrist, making you pause. He uttered your last name, and your heart skipped at the composed tone in his voice. You turned to face him.

Pale light from the streetlamp above cast shadows across his face, accentuating the maturity in his features and dissolving any lingering association between him and the word cute. In that moment, there was nothing soft or fluffy about him. Midoriya looked every inch a man shaped by past tragedies, fought battles, and steely convictions.

He tipped his head to the side as his serious gaze landed on your hand, still clasped in his.

“What is it?” you whispered.

“Can we do a repeat of today sometime?” His deep green eyes flitted to yours. “Just us?”

“As…acquaintances?”

“I want to get to know you, so I guess not.”

“A date?” His thumb began to rub absently over your pulse, answering for him. You shook your head with a quiet sigh. “Midoriya, I don’t date. I’m sorry. I’m too busy to commit, and it wouldn’t be fair to you. But we can be… friends?”

Too busy bein’ committed to me, you mean. I’m everywhere in your head, in—

You sliced through that inner voice possessed by him. Silencing it for all but a moment.

For years.

“Platonic is good too,” he said, nodding as if trying to convince himself more than agree with you. “But before we settle on that, there’s something I can’t stop thinking about. I’ve tried, but I can’t.”

That something wasn’t related to you and Bakugou…right? Midoriya hadn’t seen anything, hadn’t noticed. You’d been impulsive, sure, but discreet at the table. At least, you hoped so.

“Something?”

He climbed the only step separating you, and you could see the whole spectrum of green in his eyes with how close he was. Your lips parted on a swift inhale and froze like that when his mirrored. The air between you trembled. Something wasn’t vague anymore. It had shape. Weight.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, soft but certain. “Just this once. Then we forget about it.”

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Your heart went mad, and he was probably feeling it. Did you want a piece of him? Because here it was: a one-time invitation, no strings attached. A golden opportunity. You might find out that what you needed was indeed softer in nature. Or, you just might end up confirming you liked bleeding on jagged edges.

You looked between his eyes. “Why?”

“I’d keep wondering, and I don’t want to if we’re going to be friends.”

Do it. Kiss him. Fuckin’ face the truth. Confirm me.

“But if you—” Midoriya tried.

“Kiss me.”

One heartbeat of absolute silence passed.

Then his lips were on yours, stumbling you back into the railing. Soft and a little bit impatient. His arm banded around your middle, shielding you from the cold metal, while the other cupped your cheek.

You kissed him. Parts of you melted under the almost innocent lip-lock, but your core searched for that sensation that drowned you and made you soar at the same time.

You grew desperate when it didn’t find it. Your heart accelerated with the why. Denial brewed in the heat of your persistent desire that had nothing to do with the man learning the shape of your lips. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.

You were committed to no one.

Soul, heart, body—they were yours alone. Listening to you. Responding to you. Acting the way you wanted them to.

And right now, you wanted your soul to withdraw into some isolated corner, your heart to shut up, and your body to tune into his and be greeted by the steady drumming of his honest heart.

Angling your head, you teased his bottom lip with the tip of your tongue, and he welcomed it with a restrained moan. The sound sank into your bones, weakened your knees. But when his taste registered, you fisted a hand into his dress shirt.

Stop searchin’. It ain’t me.

It could never be him.

Midoriya grew bolder, hand skimming over your side, down to your hip.

You’re runnin’.

You weren’t.

Running away looked different.

You were here. Present and engaged. Eroding in arms that were strong but kind, not possessive. Heart disintegrating into a desolate void that expanded with each moment you spent giving Midoriya pieces of yourself that weren’t meant for him.

At its peak, that void sucked you into its gravitational field of cruel truth and repelled him, who belonged elsewhere.

Your hand was on his chest, pushing, while the rest of your body leaned so far back you might’ve joined the world at the horizontal, if not for his arm still wrapped around you

Both of you stood frozen.

Wide-eyed.

Staring.

And in the pregnant silence between two mismatched heartbeats, that look said it all: This was a mistake.

Ringing tore through the suffocating atmosphere before regret could fully settle, startling you both. Midoriya stepped back, one step more for someone who had just kissed you.

“Kacchan?” he muttered as he checked his phone. Worry chased away the aftermath of your mutual mistake, and your stomach twisted with dread. If something happened to him— “Is everything okay?”

Your senses zeroed in on him, anticipating his voice. You’d never been more grateful for the extra sensitivity your quirk came with.

”You home yet?”

That raspy baritone perforated the void in your chest. Your hands grabbed the railing behind you, slightly trembling.

“Um.” Midoriya looked at you, then answered. “Not yet. Why?”

“You ain’t alone.” Bakugou’s response landed like an accusation, punctuated by the sharp, loud click of his tongue. “Should’ve said so. Same woman from earlier?”

The skin over your knuckles pulled taut. The fucking void shrunk. Because of him.

Damn him and his timing. As if he knew what you’d done—sensed it—and died to rub salt into your fresh, bleeding wound, while reissuing his obscure little claim on—

He had no right.

No fucking right to be anything.

Your dynamic was a doomed, rotten web. Spun from impulsivity. Held together by the inability to back the fuck off.

He was married.

A suspect.

Your enemy.

“I’ll call you back.”

Midoriya ended the call and continued to stare at you with an unreadable expression for a few long minutes. Quietly observing. Thinking. Probably wondering why your kiss tasted like a fallacy.

Your heart ached, longed, and revolted. But you peeled your fingers from the railing, straightened your spine, and forced a disarming smile onto your face.

Let it hurt. Let it cry and scream. Let it mourn what could never be.

One foot in front of the other. One step. Two steps. Three steps.

“Still want to be friends?” you asked, standing close again to the man whose kiss you could barely remember. A mirage to your senses.

His shoulders sagged as he sighed, gaze drifting sideways. Small creases appeared between his brows as he considered your question as though this were a pivotal moment in his life.

When he looked back at you, Midoriya mirrored your relaxed expression, your smile; his was sincere. “Yes. I want to.”

And you realized…

His hesitation wasn’t suspicion. It was about letting go of whatever reason he had for kissing you in the first place.

A reason you weren’t curious to know.

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