#genuinely this is the most fun I had on Twitch

[sevenines]

i’ve been listening to/watching many (many, many) reactions to steven universe (because that’s what you do when you become newly obsessed with something. see what everyone else thinks about it and drive yourself mad) and it’s so interesting to see all the unique ways people tackle it and the common threads between them all.

there’s podcast recaps (pressure to over-analyze) vs youtube reactions (pressure to overreact). everyone knowing the show (yay) vs fans guiding newcomers (interesting) vs everybody being blind (often disastrous). don’t mind silly fun? they love the first season and amethyst’s character. told about how ~deep~ it gets and expecting only that? they love pearl and have to be dragged through the beginning. even how they chunk the episodes affects things—in watching episode-by-episode, people go the most mad as they try to squeeze meaning out of episodes they can’t yet appreciate until later (or are just. bad at analyses.). in chunks of two, people assume su will have much more horror after watching frybo and cat fingers back-to-back. and chunks of 5 are completely different too!

this only skims the surface. i can watch any episode of su and point out which jokes usually make people laugh, what people pick up on, and how their opinion of the situation reflects on whether they have mommy issues.

[mountainficss]

thoughts on making subby hao cry from edging ?

!! mentions of: sub!minghao, edging, dacryphilia, handjobs

i love the idea of a subby minghao :( it’s forever my favorite concept. just the thought of his pretty face scrunched up in pleasure ugh.

minghao is so well behaved, he’d genuinely try his absolute hardest to just let you use him as you please. he’d let you run your hands over his body teasingly, avoiding the places he wants you to touch the most. he’d let you kiss down the expanse of his neck, trying not to get too worked up when he feels your soft lips on his skin. he’d let you wrap your soft hands around his twitching cock, attempting not to cum from the mere sensation of it. it would be hard for him of course; any little touch from you would send jolts of excitement and arousal through his body. but it would be even harder for him when you continue to deny him of his orgasms, ripping his high away from him every time he gets close. you’d stroke him teasingly for a while, then unexpectedly pick up the pace, practically throwing him over the edge every time. you know his body too well though. so once you can tell he’s close, you’d completely remove your hand from his length. he’d take it well the first few times you edged him, although chasing your hand with his hips in a desperate attempt for more. but once you reach the fourth or fifth time, you’d see his eyes start to glisten. his pretty orbs would well with unshed tears, and he’d tug his bottom lip between his teeth. “what’s wrong, hao? close?” you’d question teasingly, tightening your grip around his erection just to see him squirm. he wouldn’t be able to hold the tears back after a while, and fat teardrops would involuntarily roll down his flushed cheeks. the wet streaks would stain his face, making him look oh-so sweet and fucked out. “y-yeah, but—‘s okay,” he’d lie, wanting you to use him to your heart’s content. “i can ta—ngh—i can take it.” you’d just grin at him, loosening your grip on him once again and receiving a whine in response. “i know,” you’d state simply.

he wouldn’t be able to take it though, after you had edged him for what seemed like the millionth time, he’d begin to beg and plead. “please! p-please let me c-cum,” he’d stutter, words slurring together between his desperate cries. the tears would refuse to cease, wetting minghao’s face as he bucks his hips up towards you. “can’t—can’t take it a-anymore…” the poor baby would be so desperate to cum anywhere, whether it be inside you, in your mouth, or just in your hands. he didn’t care where, as long as you let him finish. you would find it more fun to push him to his limit though, edging him until he physically can’t hold in his pleasure anymore <3

taglist: @jeonghanpill , @bangantokchy , @caratboy , @bewoyewo , @luvseungcheol , @wonvsmile , @haolovre , @aaniag , @writingbarnes , @dokyeomkyeom , @allieyaaa

[whslnc]

— Brat

nsfw mdni :3 | dom!brat tamer!bsf!vernon x fem!reader | 1.1k

!! overstimulation, brat reader, slightly controlling, loud moaning(f), fingering, doggy, petname (babe), dirty talking, maybe others but it should be fine lemme know if you care !!

- this came to me in a dream not vernon but this lol, vernon seemed perfect for the role, written at 4 am in the morning don’t even worry about it. neo culture technology

Finally, the day had come for your monthly movie night with Vernon, you had a whole system you operated so it could be a fun experience for both of you. Picking out of a box filled with movies titles you had both submitted throughout the past few months, you both picked a movie then decided which one out of the two you would see that night, sometimes going for both.

This night was no different, you had decided on a movie for the night together, sitting on your respective sides of the couch. You let your legs lounge on his lap, resting your back against the arm rest, not paying mind to his playful poking on your thighs as the movie begun.

Most of the first hour, you sat in silence just throwing in a funny remark here and there for giggles, then came the scenes. After watching so many movies the sex scenes, bothered you less and less, you’d usually take the opportunity to say something dumb about it but your focus was elsewhere. The touch was delicate, faint almost, his fingers running up your thighs, it was hard to think coherently with the uncensored scenes in front of you.

“No one is screaming that loud, that’s hilarious” you force the words out trying to get your mind off the soft touches, your voice caught his attention and his roaming hand stopped.

“Some people get really loud to be honest” he says, nodding to himself before turning to you, you narrow your eyes at him trying to figure out if he was talking from experience or just generally.

“Like you’ve had someone screaming in bed?” he laughs at your confused expression answering your question with a nod, amused by the fact that you find it impossible.

“I’m sure you do” there was no way, you had never experienced it so it didn’t seem probable to you, simply agreeing reluctantly to your friend’s baseless claims.

He looks at you closer brows furrowed as he leans in, his hands perfectly wrapped around your thighs sliding further up, stopping inches away from your bulging lips.

“You think I’m lying?” a soft laugh of disbelief escapes his mouth, his eyes scan your face genuinely curious, watching you blink away before speaking up.

“I’m just saying any one can fake pleasure” you finally say looking back at him, a hint of shock under his smile, his lips twitching as he lets out a scoff.

“Fuck, I didn’t know you were such a brat”

One glance down between your legs, it was so obvious how badly you wanted it, for his hand to move closer to press against your aching clit just begging to be stimulated. That didn’t matter, he watched as your breaths grew bigger, your hips moving closer subconsciously drawn to the touch of his hand just resting on your thigh.

“Nonie… please” that was all he needed, your whole body begging for him to make you lose your voice to his touch. The sudden pressure sends a jolt to your spine making you arch your back, just from his fingers rubbing through your thin panties. The sound of his laugh mocking you only adding to your pleasure, letting him pull down your shirt’s neck for your pretty breasts to fall out, you really were all talk so easily letting yourself get used.

You couldn’t keep your eyes off him, his thumb brushing against your nipple before pinching the sensitive skin sliding down to the base holding onto it as his lips met your pebbled nipples, his wet tongue pressing on it making you suck in air from the feeling. So distracted by his kisses, the feeling of his fingers slipping inside your wet skin caught you off guard, a soft moan leaving your lips.

“Don’t fake it for me, I know you can take more than this” his hot breath against your ear as he spoke, placing a soft kiss on your jawline, pulling his fingers out completely covered with your juices bringing them to your lips, pulling down your jaw to open your mouth for him.

You find yourself moaning on his fingers as you suck on them, enjoying your taste on his soft fingers. His smirk as he takes out his fingers makes you weaker than you already were, rolling over on your belly ready let him take your pussy.

Getting rid of all your bottom clothing, you bend over his legs keeping your ass up for him to use to his content. A light smack against your ass the feeling tingling to your desperate pussy, he slides his fingers back in fucking your tight pussy sliding in a third finger as he quickens the pace, your noises are barely quiet as his fingers rub swiftly against your spot, hitting you so perfectly you have to dig your head into the couch to mute your pleading.

“I want you to hear yourself,” you feel his hand grab around your jaw lifting your head up, as he places his fingers against your clit stimulating it with fast back and forths making you legs grow weak, trembling uncontrollably, weak taps against his wrists for him to stop only for him to push you further.

Your pleading becomes more desperate as you near your release point, he can feel you tensing so hungrily around his fingers, loving how easily you crumble, cussing out his name as you pour out on his fingers. He wastes no time making you kneel on the couch, spreading your legs out so he can get a better view of your throbbing pussy, standing right behind you.

“You’re so fucking hot baby, I’m gonna make you scream my name tonight” It was a promise, the sound of him taking out his cock made your pussy beg, missing the hot feeling of being fucked by a rock hard shaft.

Your hands grab each side of your ass pulling them apart for him to see how desperate your pussy was for him to fill it up, the scoff that escaped his lips was so telling. In a heartbeat you feel him thrust deep inside you making your back arch, his hand wrapping around your throat as his thrusts continued.

“Fuck… talk to me baby” with every thrust you feel you body grow weaker, the only sounds able to leave your lips are desperate wails from the overstimulating pleasure, his cock hitting harder against you repeatedly in only a second.

Your words are inarticulate, you can’t even tell how loud you’re screaming till he gags you with his fingers, muting your cries as you cum your whole body stiffening around him, grabbing your ass and squeezing it against his dick filling up your used hole.

You let your body relax on the couch completely disheveled, watching him take his seat beside you, pressing play on the remote to resume the movie.

“Let’s finish the movie now”

[mokulule]

A Pinch of Salt snippet 1

Chronologically first story in the Salt in the Bones AU @clockwayswrites and I are working on together (go check out the snippet Clock posted) - so much brainstorming, it's so much fun. This story is how Danny and Constantine meets.

“What the hell man, do I look like some kind of restless spirit to you?”

When Danny decided to investigate some ghostly rumors at the abandoned construction site of a nearly completed mall about an hour from Amity, he did not expect to turn a corner and get a face full of salt tossed at him. His assailant, a tired looking, blond, middle aged man in a sandy trenchcoat that had seen better days, just continued staring with narrowed eyes and the hand that had done the throwing still slightly raised.

“Okay, so I haven’t slept in three days, but dude, really?” He brushed his sleeve across his mouth to remove the salt but only succeeded in getting more in his mouth, he stuck out his tongue in disgust.

Still no give from the sad trenchcoat man.

“What are you?” the man finally spoke.

Danny stared open-mouthed, rude much! So that’s what trenchcoat wanted to go with! Fine! Two can play that game.

“Covered in freaking salt that’s what!” Danny shook his head so it rained salt speckles around him.

“It’s everywhere,” he groused spitting at the floor trying to get the taste out. “Seriously, save that for the shades and the fries.”

Having expelled most of the salt, he noted something else. He moved his tongue around for a moment pondering, then froze.

“Is that… Rosemary?!”

He had a sudden sinking feeling in his gut, took a moment to sense past the surface of noir-reject and was assaulted by sheer wrong-torn-wrong. He took a step back in horror.

“What are YOU? Why are you seasoning me? Do you eat people?!” Danny had thought he’d be dealing with a poltergeist, not whatever weirdness this man was.

For the first time he got a reaction.

“I don’t bloody eat people!” Constantine blurted in consternation, taking a step toward the creature posing (annoyingly realistically) as a teenager, who promptly took another step back.“Could have fooled me,” the creature countered, “what with that thing you have going.” He gestured vaguely up and down at Constantine’s entire person in disgust.

It really shouldn’t matter what some not-poltergeist thought of him, but something about him just rubbed Constantine wrong and he bristled.

The next moment the creature spluttered and coughed from the holy water he’d just thrown at him, but huh, no burning.

“Not a demon either,” John remarked, allowing himself a smirk as the creature looked at him open mouthed, eye twitching.

“Where the hell are you keeping this shit, did you just pull it out of your a- wait, demon?” He blinked and stopped his tirade.

“Demon?” he repeated, “demon’s exist?”

And suddenly it was Constantine reevaluating, because that sounded genuine, and the kid, because oh God it was just a bloody kid, might reek of death magics, but now that he was paying attention the malice wasn’t coming from him. It was coming-

A wail, angry, hateful, sorrowful tore apart the silence. It was cold to the very marrow of his bones freezing him in place.Down the hallway energy crackled in a growing storm of malice throwing around dust and debris from the construction. Cardboard, and forgotten tools was sucked into it and it was slowly moving towards them. Shit.

“That’s not a poltergeist either,” the kid remarked quietly at his side. And for a moment he’d forgotten he had a bloody civilian on hand. He cursed, grabbed the kid and booked it in the opposite direction from the sodding spectral storm.

[neetily]

Without Shame — (SDV) Sebastian

— ✧ warnings: Stepbro!Sebastian, pseudoincest, stepcest, Cheating, dubcon, Magic pocket pussy, mean sebastian, Name Calling, Cunnilingus, accidental creampie, Objectification, ruined orgasm, Fingering — ✧ word count: 7,617 — ✧ genre: smut (18+)

— ✧ A/N: reposting from my old account since i was asked to! formatting might be off, but it's still readable.

Ever since he can recall, you’ve been a fucking brat. There’s no other way to put it quite so eloquently, he thinks. At least when it comes to interacting with him, which makes it all the more frustrating when you play innocent with others. Has him feeling  insane  when no one believes his claims that you’re evil, that he’d really rather be alone than stuck with you as a sibling, that everyone else is wrong when they call  him  the mean one. You play the role of innocent little sister well in public, and though part of him is genuinely impressed at your acting skills, he unfortunately knows the real you; and you’re so fucking annoying. Especially the way that you know exactly how to get away with your mistreatment of him, remaining undetected the moment a third party shows up so that he has to take the blame. Every. Single. Time.

Which is unfair, right? Unlike his usual sedentary lifestyle, the one constant that he can always count on in life is that you’ll surely be there to cause chaos for him. Whether that be from your  ‘playful’  comments about his appearance, making fun of his lifestyle choices and hobbies, or the fact that you’re quite literally  dating his best friend ; it’s fair to say that you’ve always annoyed him. Siblings fight, sure, but he’s never called you anything close to  sister  in his life, and he doesn’t plan on it. He didn’t grow up with you so much as you just showed up one day to ruin his life, strutting around like you already owned the place with that dumb smirk he so often sees you wear, in spite of the fact that  you  moved into  his  home. More than anything he refers to you only as  brat , because that’s what you are. An annoying, good for nothing, stupid little  brat  who needs to be put in her place. Particularly considering that you’ve never been told no before; maybe that’s why you bug him so often, because he’s not afraid to say what you hate most.

No, you can’t have that. No, that’s mine. No, I’m not staring at your ass.

What’s worse is that he can’t even hide how much you get to him, retaliating to your attacks with barks of his own every time, too afraid that if he doesn’t keep if with you that you’ll only bully him more. And it’s  exhausting  watching you prance around the house, usually in next to no clothing, teasing him at the dinner table with your nipples poking through your shirt—no bra again, despite his begs for you to wear one—until he eventually snaps at you to  shut up ; and then it’s him that gets punished for it!

Unfair is to word that suits you best. How you treat him, and how he feels about you. Because at the end of the day, he’s just a man. A man with a stupidly annoying hot step sister who provokes him day in and day out, teasing his perverted mind with just barely not enough; because you’re  mean  and  you fucking know it .

Tonight, he decides to change that.

For all the pranks you’ve had him endure, he’s got his own devious plan up his sleeve. Been sitting on it for a few nights, a pure fantasy that even now he barely thinks is even possible, prepared for it to all be a scam, but fuck it. He has to try. Anything to wipe that stupid smile off your cute face, regardless of morals. And you only have yourself to blame, your dumb… Hot self.  Fuck  he hates you. Hates the way his cock twitches every time you enter his room, even if he knows you’re only there to upset him. Hates the way his heart hurts when you show him your recent selfies with Sam, how his tummy turns when you only give up on teasing him because Sam is calling you, a thick layer of bile always on the tip of his tongue waiting to put you down.  It’s disgusting , the way he actually loves it.

He especially hates the cute little pout you wear when he does bites back, mimicking your words in a high pitched mocking tone just to hear you whine some more, standing tall above you only to talk down at you.  God , it makes him so hard just thinking about your teary eyes when he takes it a step too far, commenting on that one thing he knows you’re actually   insecure about and big fat tears travel down your chubby cheeks. So fucking hot making you sob for him, turning your otherwise pretty smile into an earnest scowl, like you  hate him . It’s what you deserve for being such an annoying fucking brat. If he can’t have you be nice for him, he’ll take punishing you into tears happily. He doesn’t care too much either way, because you’re pretty when you cry too.

And it’s not that he doesn’t feel guilt for looking at you with a lecherous gaze, but rather that he simply doesn’t care. Knowing that it’s wrong and yet still he gives in to his perverted nature by stroking his cock to thoughts of you, of shutting you up by filling your throat, driven by the seed of shame taking root in his tummy to pet his erection under his desk every time you moan for him to stop teasing. It’s the only thing that helps, to balm the pangs of remorse when a smirk tugs at his lips every time you cry wolf.

Which brings him to the item in his hands, spurred on to get back at you after you recently attempted to go into deep detail about your oh so fun little date with Sam the other day. It’s bad enough that you went against his wishes and started dating Sam in the first place—he has some choice words for his best friend too—but you make things worse by  indulging . Elaborating on what you love most about Sam, teasing intimate details that he’d rather not hear about; and acting oblivious to his glares. You know damn well how to rile him up just right, to get him on the edge of fighting back before retreating to the safety of your room, or worse, your father. No, he doesn't want to hear about how Sam took you home after your date last night, or about how rough his hands are on your plush thighs. It’s  gross , because deep down he wishes it was  him .

You should be thankful, really, that he’s going to such lengths to prank you. Only you would have him acting this desperate, squeezing the soft silicone toy in his shaking fists like a stress toy, his ass perched right on the edge of his computer chair as if it were the only barrier left before the point of no return. It was through the old man camping near his house that clued him in to the supposed wizard occupying the tower in Cindersap Forest, a claim that he initially passed off as a farce, but after your latest stunt of divulging disgusting details he decided it couldn’t hurt to ask for more information, just to amuse himself. A little fantasy of getting back at you, nothing more. Though, now that he’s got the supposed magical object in hand, he can’t help but bounce his leg off his old squeaky floor, giddy excitement resting heavy in his chest as he gives the rubber toy another squeeze, already panting at the thought of executing his plan.  Fuckin’ brat,  he smiles to himself.  Only gettin’ what’s comin’ t’ya .

It’s the first time he’s getting a proper look at the toy too, unable to give it a second thought until right now thanks to you. Your petulant attitude when he arrived home only irked him, solidified his decision to defile you tonight even more so when you taunted him about leaving the house and how  he never usually does and was he seeing a girl? A friend? Must have been really important if he left his room, right?  God, even just thinking about your teasing voice causes his brows to furrow in frustration, tongue clicking at the mere memory of your pestering, gripping the girth of the toy in his hands as if it were your throat.

Selfish desire gets the better of him though, and for as much fun as it is pretending to choke you out, it’s getting late and his mom will be back with your dad soon. Which means he hasn’t got much time left to ruin you, so, he carefully holds the toy up to his face for inspection. What greets him is all pink and  pretty , his throat immediately drying when he realises just how  attractive  it is. Then, quickly, upset crawls up to his tongue and hides behind his teeth when recalling how the wizard called it a  replica , and knowing that your cunt is apparently this pretty for real angers him. Like,  how dare you  be withholding such a pretty pussy from your big brother, right? Shouldn’t he get first dibs on it, and not  Sam . Suddenly, calling you sister sounds appealing to him, and he’s almost tempted to pull his pants down and shove his already throbbing erection into your little unprepared pretty pussy just to punish you for keeping this cunt out his reach. But he’s too busy instinctively pressing the pocket pussy against his face as close as he can get without actually touching it and huffing. Sniffing along your faux slit and immediately leaning back into his chair as your scent washes over him, overwhelming and clouding his judgement.  Fuck,  okay, maybe it really  is  linked to your cunt. And because he's not as mean as you like to portray him, he decides to indulge himself a little. Or, he's simply too selfish  not  to eat you out, eager to get a first taste of his little sister, to see if she's really worth all the hassle.

And he’s so close too,  God ; about as close to actually fucking you as he can get right now that he’s honestly a bit dizzy, jutting his hips forward so his bulge can roll against the air in a mimicked action of sex. It’s instinctual, convincing his quickly emptying mind that this must mean that it’s  right , that your cunt belongs to your mean big brother, his breath fanning across the faux lips in rushed bursts of barely there restraint. He wonders if you can feel him already, wearing a cute confused pout at the cooling feeling between your legs;  fuck , he can unfortunately imagine it perfectly, his free hand coming down to pet at his pulsing cock with light touch, just barely there to tease him like he’s teasing you. Because this is better than he ever thought it’d be, having all the benefit of your hole right in front of him without needing to put up with... Well, you, and he’s afraid that if he gives in to his more baser instincts too soon; he’ll cum before he gets to have his fun.

Inhaling your scent some more causes his eyes to roll to the back of his skull, imagining how  quiet  you must be in your room all alone; even there you usually talk too much, way too fucking loud and annoying. Is his sniffing shutting you up? Cock dripping precum already at the image of you shooting upright in bed, forgetting all about what you were previously doing because  something  is happening to your body, left completely unaware that your mean older brother has his face practically buried between your legs right now. That’d for sure leave you gasping, right? Make you all squirmy and cute, soft and pliable for once in your fucking life.

And thanks to his depraved mind, his tongue automatically pokes out at the thought of you  listening  to him for once, kitten licking at the fake slit while he holds his breath. A natural action, one that he isn’t immediately aware he’s doing before he can feel soft skin against his teeth. His mind is slow to catch up to whats happening, too distracted by the palm circling his perverted bulge into submission, but when he realises that his lips are in contact with the pocket pussy, he rolls his tongue up to the swell of it, sighing against the slit in satisfaction over how you taste so  perfect . The more he teases his tongue between your folds the wetter he finds the fake cunt getting, and noticing that the magic imbued in the object is  real  causes his hips to jerk up into his open palm, rolling together in tandem with how he licks your cunt.

A soft curse escapes him when a gush of slick reaches his taste buds, immediately swallowing your liquid down like a dog. One hand holding the pocket pussy to his lips, the other tugging at his leaking cock. “Big brother making you feel good?” He whispers against it, only proving to rile himself up further at the verbal admission of touching his little sister so inappropriately. And he's so soft and tender with his tongue too, a momentary lapse in judgement, forgetting all about your brattiness the moment his lips grazed your puffy cunt, hypnotised by the taste and smell of your tiny hole into providing kindness to you.  Pussydrunk . It causes his cock to flex under his touch, dribbling saliva onto the toy to make his tongue glide easier between your lips. “ Dummy …” He sighs into you, giving your cunt a trail of kisses from top to bottom, and then back up again, letting his tongue poke out between kisses as if he were making out with your cunt more than anything.  Really  making out with it, sloppy sounds included with how eagerly he smacks his lips against you, the accumulation of saliva sticking to his chin as he presses kiss after lick at your hole. He shifts around on his chair, sliding down it just a little more to get comfortable and pushing it out away from his desk, his legs automatically opening while he slobbers all over the faux cunt, pretending that you’re riding his face right now because  fuck that’s so fucking hot, yeah?  Need big brother to eat you out and make your cunt feel all better? “Gettin’ all wet an’ slick for big brother? Preparin’ for his cock?” he continues talking to himself, voice hushed and mocking before diving back in to kiss the toy, easily believing that you’re in the room with him from the way your slick dribbles down his throat.  Linked  to you in your room,  fuuuck  he wants to see your face  so bad . Wants to hear your little hushed gasps and moans, clinging on to him for assistance without realising that it’s  him  that’s making you feel all funny. You just need big bro to take care of you, right? Need big bro to help make you feel all better, to work out why you feel all funny down there, yeah? There’s no need to be with Sam baby, big brother is just downstairs and more than willing to help your wet little cunt out.

A rough cough crawls up his throat as he pulls away for some air, a string of saliva keeping his tongue connected to your hole. It doesn’t last very long though because he’s diving right back in before he even fills his lungs, gripping at his cock and shaking it a few times before  attempting  to jerk himself off, but his jeans are too tight and he’s too drunk on your cunt to pull his pants down. Too busy with flattening his tongue against your wet little slit, slurping and groaning against your cunt while he gets off to just your  taste ,  fuck , can practically  smell  how much you need him by now, pressing sloppy kisses against your puffy little clit and tonguing at it desperately, humming with his kisses so that you can feel how much he appreciates your compliance: even if it’s robbed. “Pretty princess cunt,” He rasps to himself, dipping his tongue all the way down to your hole so that he can absentmindedly mouth at it, slipping inside with such ease as more slick gushes on his lips, making his fist tighten unfairly on his erection. He’s downright desperate. “Baby sister  cunt—”  He huffs roughly, tugging his cock only twice more before frustration overwhelms him and he’s reminded of your bratty attitude, placing the pocket pussy on the edge of his desk for you to drip slick onto his floor while his hands busy themselves with removing his pants and underwear as quickly as possible, only managing to get them over his knees before he settles back into his chair again, pocket pussy carelessly gripped and hovering dangerously close over his now exposed pulsing cock. He’s absolutely  trembling,  shaking with excitement while the faux cunt dribbles slick onto his already wet with precum cock, coating it in all your baby sister cream like a  good girl  for once. While he could eat you out  literally   all day  if he wanted to, face stuffed between your thighs for him to huff and kiss at mindlessly, insisting on continuing when you inevitably dig your nails into his hair and try to  yank  him off; his cock cries for attention. Twitches as fat globs of precum roll down to his balls, veins popping with impulsive need. He briefly wonders if Sam has ever gotten you this wet before, to the point of gushing over his cock before even entering.  Does big brothers tongue feel that good, baby?

Small  haah’s  are all he can let out as he squeezes the rubber toy in his fist, his other hand clenching tightly around the base of his perverted cock to angle it towards your sopping hole, staring at how your slick that leaks down to his tip shimmers in the seedy lighting of his room, where it connects to his own fat beads of precum that spill for you.  So close , he pants to himself.  Wanna fuck you so bad , he almost whines,  for so long . Stuck between ramming big brothers cock into your tiny little hole already, or to savour the moment for how monumental it feels. Sure, it’s not the real deal, but it’s  close enough ; even more depraved if he really thinks about it. Fucking you in secret, leaving you a mess all alone in your room; able to feel his girth but left unknowing as to why: he can’t fucking wait to bully you back some, make you feel how fat his cock is as punishment for tormenting him all this time.

And that’s all it takes, the promise of revenge. The torturous drip of your cunt onto his cock convincing him to enter,  inviting him , even, his fist lifting only to smear the combination of his pre and your slick over his hot and heavy length (as if it needed extra coating). He wets his lips in focus, lowering the pocket pussy closer to his red hot tip before some more pre spills for you, and as if that wasn't enough, he leans over himself to spit on his cock for extra lubrication. Don’t say he’s never kind to you, all right? “S’all your fault.” He chokes out, lowering the toy until the faux lips come into contact with his tip, automatically causing his hips to buck up into the soft feeling in search of  more ; but he forces himself to resist.  Wait , he tells himself, nonchalantly stroking the pocket pussy lips up and down his cock instead of entering, staining himself completely with your slick. Feels  so good, fuck , even just rubbing one out on you like this, pushing the fat of his cock between the fake lips to  really  hump at, y’know? Even lets his hip thrust upwards, causing him to fuck himself off his chair a little with how eager he’s pretending to hump his little sister, to properly punish you—or so he tells himself, but deep down he understands it’s more like he just wants to wet his cock, remind you of who you really belong to—because it’s what you fucking  deserve .

You deserve to feel the entirety of his greedy cock slipping and sliding between your folds, you deserve to feel the guilt and shame he’s desperately humping upon you for getting so  wet  due to big brothers cock. He’s entitled to this, he thinks. Putting up with you all these years, he takes his frustrations out by repeatedly knocking the tip of his cock against the faux clit of the pocket pussy to hopefully have you sobbing in your sheets, squirming under the phantom feeling of his cock bullying your upsettingly perfect little cunt. By the thick squelch that soon fills his room with every pass of his girth up and down the toy, he knows you must be enjoying his disgusting treatment.  Gross , he smiles to himself.

Busy humping himself silly against your fake cunt, he doesn’t fully register how close he is to slipping inside until it eventually happens. One minute he’s blissfully content rubbing one out against your slit, and the next he’s folding in on himself in a full body silent gasp, cock head fully engulfed in your tight little hole and knocking the wind out of him. Karma, he supposes, and then immediately forgets about as he feels your cunt squeeze around his intrusion for the first time ever; and you manage to effectively shut him up, no talking back or standing up to your teasing for once. Until you do it again, even if involuntary. “ Shit— fuck .” He groans, a rough sound crawled up from the pit of his tummy, drawn out from how nice and wet the toy in his hands is, thanks to  you . His weight shifts in his old computer chair, squeaking like it always does when he jerks off to the screen, only now it’s due to the immense strain he has to endure  not  to immediately bury himself balls deep in your cunt. You squeeze around him again as if asking for it and it hits him all at once, forced to realise with such sudden and alarming clarity that he was very much fucked.  Ruined , truthfully. The sinful suck of your linked cunt promising to spoil every other hole he potentially fucks in future, leaking little sister cream all over his twitching cock to entice him deeper, to fall further into your messy cunt depravity.

And really, it’s not bullying if you like it. He’s not being mean by rolling his hips into you  slowly , forcing you to savour every thick inch he’s got to offer as he enters you, tiny little humps upwards rather than forcing the toy down his cock to simulate sex better. You like it, don’t you? Dribbling all over his cock, bet you’re writhing in your sheets right now for him; because you must be just as slutty as him to be  enjoying  this. And it’s embarrassing just how much he likes it, how he already knows he’ll never be able to leave the pocket pussy alone, biting his lip raw to try and stifle his moans, squeezing one eye shut as if he was pained to be feeling so good, and he feels forced to swallow a bark creeping to his tongue at how  annoyed  he is. It’s  unfair  that you feel so good wrapped around him like this, half his cock buried in the toy, coating his length in even more slick to make the glide inside easier. And he thinks to himself that if you didn’t want it, you wouldn’t be this fucking slippery, his head thrown back at the soft squelch his cock fucks out of you. “ That’s it , fuck— what a good sister…” He ends up praising you despite his frustrations, unable to hide his genuine feelings for you in the secrecy of his own room, squeezing the pocket pussy even tighter around his greedy cock as he pushes up, up, and up until finally the faux lips rest against his pelvis and he can finally breathe again.

More than anything he wants to fist your hair and mess up your pretty styling, force his lips onto your own so that you can  taste  just how much he wants you; how downright desperate he is to claim you as his own. You’re his little sister, so you belong to him, right? Should be creaming on  his  cock and not anyone elses, cunt twitching around his fat girth as he grinds his hips into the toy, little circles to tease and taunt, bully you back into place for your petulant attitude he’s had to deal with his whole life.  Payback,  he muses, panting at the way your fake cunt accepts him so  easily , willingly wrapping around him so snugly; like you were made to take his cock. Just barely inside and you’ve already got him pulsing, balls taut at the way he so easily falls into you, how he’s sure he could cum right now just by circling his cock inside of you, stirring your insides up to prepare you for what inevitably comes next. Annoying, because he went into this perverted prank hoping to just upset you, to make you sob and whine on his cock like a  good girl  for once, and yet here he is struggling to regulate his breathing, fighting with himself to keep his hips from humping.

But  fuuuuck  you feel so good, nice and tight and  eager , constantly twitching and squirming on his cock to coax more precum out to stain your insides with, sucking his tip in so well as if asking for more, begging big brother to fuck you. And he’s watched enough hentai to know that he’s not immune to the little sister allure, despite his intentions to simply fuck with you; he has to show you that he’s the one in charge here, right? Regardless of his flimsy excuse, he does so instinctively, a flash of regret buried deep in his mind that’s easily clouded over by the sudden swallow of your cunt as he withdraw his hips, leaving only his tip inside to tease you with. More slick gushes out of the toy, trickling down to his balls and onto his chair, a tut escaping him despite being alone. “You’re such a fucking tease, y���know that?” He slurs, words caught in his throat and forced out of him as he drops the toy on his cock, shivering into the dirty action before repeating it again. And again. And again, until his fist wraps neatly around the toy enough to control the speed and he starts jerking off with your cunt.

Greedy gulps of air is all that’s heard in his room, besides the odd squeak and dribble of saliva, a few drops pooling on his tummy as he revels in the act of taking his perfect princess little sister in private. At least he tries to keep quiet, but it’s hard to keep his voice down when your walls squeeze him tighter, prompting him to suckle on his hoodie sleeve and pretend it was your nipple instead, lacing his tongue over the rough fabric as a means to distract himself from falling in love with your cunt. Is this how Sam feels when inside of you? Do you get this slippery for your boyfriend too, or is it because deep down you know  big brother  is fucking you properly.

God  he feels dizzy, so turned on at the thought of not only defiling you, but of doing it in a way where you’re left  uninformed . He wishes he could see your confused tear stained face, wants to watch you shake and cry for help while he bullies his cock into you, leaking all over the toy with every fuck of his hips upwards, matching the downward tug of his hands. And it’s even more fucked up that he’s treating you like the toy you are right now, literally jerking himself off as his tongue pokes against the inside of his cheek, furrowing his brows to gain greater focus, leaning back against his chair so that he can hump into the faux hole at abetter angle. “So good—” He babbles to himself, fluttering his lashes at the way the toy slams back down on his balls, the corners of his mouth wet with drool from the sound of your cunt making room for his corrupt cock. “Knew you’d feel s—so good—” The immorality of his actions only turns him on more, his legs coming out to straighten while his back arches against his chair, fucking into the toy with needy desperation, a tut on his tongue at how perfect you are for him. He hates how good it feels, wants to fuck his frustrations out on you, slamming the toy down as much as he fucks into it so you can really feel just how much you truly upset him. If it feels this good with a toy, he can’t imagine how ruined he’s gonna be when it comes to the real thing—because of course he’s gonna fuck you for real, are you kidding?  God , you feel too fucking good it’s  unfair , should be illegal—letting him masturbate inside of you like this; his infatuation for you deepens, and the closer he gets the less liable he is to hold on to his grievances.

“Stupid girl —” He mumbles, a line of drool spilling from his lips too. In the privacy of his basement room, he allows himself a moment to indulge. “If—  fuck, oh my God — if only you— If—” He tries. God, he tries to get his words out, clamping both hands around the slippery wet toy and leaning forward to rest his head on his desk, standing up off his chair—too hopeless to remain seated—so that he can drag the toy on and off his cock with more ease.  Faster , too, his hips try to keep up with his quick fists but they’re no match, he’s spent way too many lonely night pumping his cock raw to give his hips a chance. Slick drips from the pocket pussy, his feet planted firmly on the ground to give him better grip to fuck you with, and the floorboards squeak with the weight of his thrusts. But he doesn’t slow down,  can’t , really. Unable to give even himself a breather from the disgusting situation, frantically fucking the toy in his fists like his life depended on it, his previous plans of getting back at you forgotten about in favour of simply  getting off , uncaring for how you must be so scared right now because you’re making him feel  so good : and that’s all that matters. He's so selfish, focusing only on his own pleasure as he splits you in two in the palm of his hands, baby must be stretching so well to fit him all in.

“If only you were— were this good all the time.” He finishes his thought and half laughs, but it soon turns into a low moan when the toy clenches around him, shaking and shivering down his mean big brother cock for him to enjoy. “It’s like y’were made for this—” He continues to babble, huffing against his desk while his thighs shake with you, his tummy tight with lust when he imagines that you might already be close from his harassment, like you were in the room with him. And he  almost  wants to let you cum, only because he’s too selfish to pass up the opportunity of feeling you convulse on his cock. But he’s so close too, and he smiles with an offer you’ve got no way of reciprocating. “Wanna see who cums first?”

You have   been  such a good girl  for him tonight, haven’t you? Allowed him to inflict such lewd acts on you, and not only that, but you’ve  accepted  his brutish abuse so nicely. Never mind the fact that you quite literally couldn’t fight back, he’s far too pussy drunk and buried too deep in the faux cunt to rationalise with himself, mind empty beyond the need to breed his favourite new toy the way she deserves, snapping his hips into your hole with sloppy precision; he can’t seem to get the right angle, nor can he keep a consistent speed, rendered dumb thanks to the tight squeeze your cunt offers him. “Does it feel good?” He sighs, riling himself up as an orgasm creeps up on him, humouring his fantasies while he’s ball deep inside of you because: why not at this point? “Does big brothers cock feel  sooo good ?” He continues, adopting a babying tone as if you were actually under him right now, nails digging into the split wood of his desk as if it were your hair, or your shoulder, doesn’t matter; he just wants to keep you in place. “Gonna cum for big brother? Make him feel so good too?” He pants, an unavoidable coil tightening in his core as heat flushes to his cheeks, voice barely above a whisper while he fucks himself off. He can only imagine what he must look like right now, bent over his desk and huffing, head pressed against his forearm to hide his face into his desk, pants barely half on or half off, dangling by his knees while his hips swing in the air. And then, he tries to imagine you. How  cute  you’d look right now as he fucks into you with such speed he has to step back a few times to re-position, balls slapping against the magic toy with a resounding  plap!,  sticky sweet slick keeping him connected to you with a soft squish. He only stands up more so that he can continue his delusions, looking down to where his cock meets you cunt and how a ring of cream rests at the base, a sheen coating the rest of his length for him to gawk at.

A mistake, truthfully, but he isn’t complaining too much when he instantly shoots a load inside of the toy, shoving his cock as deep as possible into the tiny hole stretched to fit him so he can properly sow his seed, stake his claim all over your insides with thick white ropes. Mark you as:  Big Brother’s . It doesn’t so much as catch him by surprise as it becomes immediately expected, face all scrunched up in rotten pleasure for the accidental creampie, a strangled  sis  caught in his throat before moans tumble, followed by breathy laughter and sighs. He doesn’t stop thrusting his hips forward, riding his orgasm out by riding you, inadvertently fucking his cum deeper into the toy and  keeping it there , lazily tugging the toy up and down his still hard cock until he’s sure he’s made you’ve milked every last drop he has for you.

He only realises that he’s neglected to let you cum as he’s pulling out,  slowly  removing his cock from the toy with a wince, watching with genuine interest as drops of seed dribble out and over his spent cock. Serves you right for dating Sam when big brother has been right here this whole time, waiting to have you submit to his cock. He laughs, a sinister smirk with knowing that you must be  so frustrated  to be left high and dry like that, to no longer even appreciate the feeling of fullness as he twists the toy in his hand so that he can assess the damage, gently pulling the folds apart so he can watch more of his cum seep out. A deep urge to eat you clean rises to his tongue when he inspects your hole, but he bites it back, tells himself that there’s more satisfaction in leaving you to deal with the consequences of your actions than to reinforce your bad behaviour behind a tongue flat against your slit. That, and he’d hate to reward you and have you know that you’ve given him the best orgasm of his life; and you didn’t even have to do anything but lay there! He’s treated you well enough, he decides, dropping the toy on his desk for him to gape at lovingly.

He sits there for a few seconds, awaiting the wash of clarity over his system to come, but when it doesn’t he simply smiles. “Fuck.” He finally sighs, and it’s a confession of sorts. Of what he doesn’t have much time to figure out, seeing as his phone soon vibrates next to him, a flash of a notification on the screen. It takes him a moment to get to it, because he’s too busy admiring how messy he’s made your pretty princess parts, smearing big brothers cum all over the slit with his thumb just because he can. But he gives in to curiosity once he’s satisfied with painting, unlocking his phone only to be greeted by your name, or the one he’s so fondly given you.

Brat: Can you come help me sebby?

A loud bark of laughter rises in his chest, throwing his head back in the gratification you’ve so kindly offered him. You can handle a little more teasing, right? It’s only fair, seeing as this is the first time he’s fully bitten back at you.

Sebastian: No, I’m busy.

And it’s not even a lie, his thumb gliding easily over the faux clit to ruin you some more, a punishment for distracting him from his afterglow. He almost gets to forget about you before you draw his attention again, another vibration from his phone that reads:

Brat: It’s serious, please!

Sebastian: … Where are you?

It’s a stupid question, he knows, but he wants to make you  really  suffer. It’s not often you need his help, and he’d be a liar if he said it doesn’t feel nice to be relied on by you like this. All you need is him, right? Need big brother to come make you feel all better, yeah? Or maybe that’s just his cock talking, jerking at the thought of you relying on him for  more , needing him to help finish you off because you’re too fucked dumb on big brothers cock to function. He’s got half a mind to walk up to your room and fuck you for real, help you finish that way. Would you try to kick him off with his cock womb deep, tears streaming down your pretty face, or would you sob from pleasure, begging big brother for more, because you’re  so close  and you’d take  anything  at this point?

Brat: My room, please hurry.!

Definitely more his cock, twitching back to life with the promise of being allowed entry into your sacred room,  your hiding place . He locks his phone and throws it to his bed, tucking his stained cock back into his pants and pulling his skinny jeans back up, neglecting to zip in his rush to be at your side;  thankful . You should be thankful he’s even giving you the time of day, seeing as you’ve already exhausted your usefulness to him for tonight. Cock spent and hole used, what more could you give him? Regardless, he’s more curious than he is spiteful right now. Wants to see what you look like after taking his cock, and if it matches his thoughts. Without much more  convincing, he tucks the toy into his hoodie pocket, confident that you’ll somehow find the evidence of his crime if he doesn’t stash it close to him at all times. He can easily clean his hoodie of cum later, but he can’t face the ramifications of mistreating you in such a deplorable fashion; not now, not ever. His little secret, yeah?

But his chest tightens as he runs up the stairs, breath caught in his throat as he stands outside your room and knocks. Anxious? He can’t figure out what for. This is everything he’s been wanting and more, and when you usher him inside with a panicked voice, he thinks he might have taken things a bit too far; protectiveness surging past his lungs and heart, rising up in a breathy “What’s wrong?” as if he doesn’t know damn well why you sound so confused right now. But that big brother attitude doesn’t last for long, ignored the minute his eyes find yours, taking in the sight of you clutching at your sheets as if you were in pain, legs crossed and covered, like you’re  hiding  from him. And  oh  it feels good to be preying on you like this, he has to fight the urge to smile at the pathetic pose you take for him, all pliant and submissive and seeking  his  help. He doesn't miss the way your nipples poke through your little shirt, or how you sweat from head to toe; working out? And his imagination didn’t do you any justice, seeing you cower in front of him like this as your legs rub together is a wet dream come true. He’s definitely hard again, keeping both hands in his pocket and pushing it down to hopefully hide his embarrassment from your eyes as you shiver before him. He watches as you automatically reach out for him, your mouth opening as if you were going to say something and—

“I—  Ah! ”

Instinctively, his fingers dip into the toy the moment you try to communicate with him, surprising even him when you gasp at the slender prodding against your insides. If you say anything resembling coherent he doesn't hear it, zoning out as he zeros in on your tits, mouth watering at the sight alone. He wants to suck on them, curling his finger inside of you in response to your unknown teasing, a declaration of want to own every part of you. At least now he knows that the toy is  actually magic , unquestionably linked to your sopping wet cunt with how you’re currently reacting to his touch. The way you shake as his finger pad circles your entrance, gliding with the amount of cum leaking from it—and by extension  dirtying your bed sheets at this very moment —and how you bite your lip so cutely when he lets its dip further into the hole again, staring directly at you with concentration to commit every detail of you to memory for tonight,  almost  moaning at the sight of you squeezing your eyes shut to avoid his dumb gaze, how pretty you look with your brows all furrowed and hand hiding your cute little sounds.

All you’ve done is convinced him that he needs to fuck you for real, and  soon . Twisting the single finger buried knuckle deep in the toy around, exploring your pretty little cunt with precision. Like he already knows all your sweet spots given the reactions you’re offering him; or maybe that’s because he’s already fucked you close to completion already, fingering you to the cusp again as he stands awkwardly hiding his hard on in your room.

“What— Uh, what’s wrong?” He clears his throat, but still his voice is dry and  needy , a hidden deep want for you lacing the words as you squirm and sob on your sheets. For  him . It’s a bit weird that he’s waited so long to ask you, he thinks, but you also seem to be a bit too distracted to notice as he introduces a second finger to the puffy toy in his pocket, pushing in instantly and easily from the fluids leaking from your hole, leaving you unable to talk once more. “Are you okay?” He gasps,  knows  that you aren’t, fuck,  look at you ; but he has to ask to keep up his facade. Wants to pretend he doesn’t know why you’re struggle to do anything other than babble before him as a means to bully you some more.  It’s your fault , maybe if you weren’t so fucking  cute  when crying then he’d move on, but your tear stained cheeks coax him to continue, scissoring his long fingers inside your hole with eagerness, like doing so would make you feel better.

And it would, and he  wants to see it , but the second he begins to slowly pump his scissoring in and out of your greedy cunt you urge him to leave. A high pitched whine of  go away!  While you bury your face in the sheets, folding in on yourself—fucking  pretty , by the way—as he assumes you’re right on the edge is enough for him. Your hidden face providing him the space to smile down at you, but it’s loving. Adoration, even. Can’t quite believe just how pretty you are when you’re rendered useless on his hand like this, and he promises himself as he turns to leave to have you act so sweetly with him the next time you try to annoy him. This is the little sister he’s always wanted, and if you play nice for him, he’ll even call you as such to your face.

“Okay.” He simply leaves you with, all breathy and empty as he exits your room, slamming the door shut only because he’s in a rush to rest his back against the same door to pull his cock out, still fingering your pretty pussy in his pocket and listening out for your cute moans to soon fill your room. Another round wouldn’t hurt, especially when you start to whimper his name so  prettily  like that, right?

[allastoredeer]

My favorite appleradio dynamic is prejudiced Lucifer x sassy bitch Alastor.

In Dad Beat Dad, Alastor may have started the passive aggressive jabs, but Lucifer escalated to death threats (Alastor's head on a plate) with shocking ease.

Like: "Okay, Luci. You're at a 10 and I need you at a 2." Man literally needed less than half a reason to start that Loony Tunes bout.

I like to imagine it's a side effect of his need to control everything. Like he was fighting both sides of the argument rapid fire in his head and was then meeting the escalation of an imaginary Alastor.

Sort of like how he answered for/with Charlie when she thanked him mid-song for offering his help free of charge.

It's the type of overreaction that someone that aggravates others for fun would love! Enter Alastor, Certified Public Troll with only a passing acquaintance with self-preservation.

New Mission: How far can I go before this could be considered self-destructive tendencies?

Alastor unintentionally disproving Lucifer's "All sinners are the same" philosophy by just being the worst... and then Lucifer has to face the horrifying realization that he likes the bastard. XD

Lucifer: All sinners are bad.

Alastor: *being the absolute worst person Lucifer's ever met*

Lucifer: You know what, maybe other Sinners aren't that bad actually

But yes, prejudiced!Lucifer x sassybitch!Alastor is my bread and butter. It's so good. They clash so much and that's what makes it fun.

And literally, Alastor may have been passive aggressive first, but the way Lucifer ramped it up was impressive. I made a post before going over the scene when they officially met, and, like, Alastor's comments overall? Not very antagonist. Or, the words at least. Passive aggressive, sure, but the most outright antagonistisitc he got was when he called Lucifer short.

Whereas it was immediate dislike on Lucifer's side.

All Alastor said was (both in response to Lucifer's reaction to his bar and the very first time they spoke to each other): Just some of the renovations we had done. Adds a bit of color! Don't you think?

And THIS was Lucifer's face ⬇️

"And you are?"

Like, Alastor didn't even sound that passive aggressive. The most I could give him was the smirky little face he gave Lucifer

(god, why is Alastor so pretty right here though??? maybe that's why Lucifer was so mad. Boi turn down those bedroom eyes, Luci can't think. That was Alastor's first plan. He was going to seduce the king of Hell, but then Lucifer insulted his bar, and he decided they were throwing hands instead).

I'm of the opinion that Lucifer was antagonist towards Alastor first and Alastor was just matching his energy (albeit very readily LMAO his eye was twitching the moment Lucifer walked through the door).

Also, yes, thank you for bringing up Lucifer answering for Charlie, cuz I think that's something a lot of people overlook.

Well, maybe he didn't answer for her exactly. I imagine it's just what he wanted her to say, but still, look at Charlie's face ⬇️

She doesn't look very comfortable.

In fact, she looked awkward, annoyed, frustrated, and uncomfortable throughout most of her interactions with Lucifer in this episode.

(there's a lot more but tumblr has a picture limit)

Wheras, this is what she was like with Alastor:

like

DAMN

Okay Luci, I see why your insecurities were firing on all cylinders.

We all know that Alastor wasn't genuine about being a father figure to her, but there has to be something to his and Charlie's relationship if she's looking at him like this. Especially in front of Lucifer.

I'm getting off topic though, I could do a WHOLE other post on my thoughts about Charlie's relationship with Lucifer VS Charlie's relationship with Alastor, and why it is the way that it is.

Anyway, yes, I agree with you. Lucifer 100% escalated the fight between him and Alastor. He went from zero to sixty with no hesitation, and he wasn't even AWARE of Alastor and Charlie's relationship yet. Essentially, the way I see it, he was acting that way toward Alastor for the sole reason that he's a Sinner which is the definition of prejudice.

And I want to clarify to anyone reading this, this isn't me hating on Lucifer. I love Lucifer. I love his character and his flaws and his insecurities. I love the way it all affects how he interacts with other characters, both negatively and positively. This is what makes him so interesting to me.

He holds so much capacity for love while also being so heavily flawed and it is 😙👌 delicious.

[pictureinme]

Can we get Robert Fischer obsessed with a cam girl?

thank u so much for this idea omg ... i had so much fun w this !! also u have the honor of being my first fischer fic LOL

superstar

robert fischer x camgirl!reader word count: 1.2k tags: male masturbation, sex toys (vibrator), overstimulation, camming

(ao3)

Robert lets out a groan as he watches you through his monitor. You had just started streaming, still completely clothed, but he couldn’t resist how you teased at your hardening nipples through your top. Scantily clad, of course, you never were the type to dress modestly for these shows.

He had been watching you for about a month now, turning notifications on almost immediately. The way you would fit all these toys inside yourself with almost no difficulty, and yet still sound so authentic– Robert could be falling in love at this point. Don’t even get him started on your angelic face, he has never seen someone quite like you. If he had, he would’ve been married a long time ago.

“So many people already… and even some new faces!” You grin and begin to hike your pathetic excuse for a skirt up your thighs, revealing the tiniest of panties. “Of course, my favorite supporter is here too. Hi, fischbait!”

“Fuck…” Robert covers his mouth with his hand as his length twitches at you simply uttering his screen name. He knew it was unavoidable that you would notice him– every stream he would send you a minimum of 500 bucks. It didn’t matter if you did anal or anything out of the ordinary, Robert just loved seeing that look in your eyes when you hear that telltale notification sound.

Sometimes he would send messages along with the donations, telling you to buy a specific kind of toy or outfit. Most often, though, he was a silent supporter.

“I think you’re really gonna like what I have in store, you guys,” Robert watches as you move your panties to the side, revealing a vibrator already inside of you, “Whoever gives the biggest donation gets to control this little thing. How cute is that?”

He scrambles closer to his desk, making sure he heard that right. Messages flood in the chatbox:

come on, we all know who’s gonna control it

Just want to see you happy, pretty girl :)

do we even have a chance against that rich fuck lol

even if i control it for just one second, ill be so happy

Yeah, Robert heard you loud and clear. He knows no one will even come close to the amount he could donate, but he decided to keep it lower than what his dirty mind wanted. He watches as the donations pour in rapidly, only reaching a measly 300. Didn’t they realize you deserve so much more?

“Jesus, I always gotta step up to the plate, don’t I?” He chuckles to himself as he sends in his amount of cash, waiting for your reaction.

You’re already moaning halfheartedly due to the other donators’ actions, but your eyes widen in what seems like genuine shock when you see a notification you have never seen before:

fischbait donated 1,000 bucks!

“Holy fuck, thank you, f– ah!”

As soon as the control prompt showed up on his screen, Robert couldn’t resist making the vibe go to the highest setting, even if it was for just half a second. He bit his lip as he watched you recover from the sudden stimulation, your breathing ragged.

“Oh, thank you so much, fischbait,” you smile widely, opening your legs even further, “Treat me nicely, okay? Or don’t…”

Robert’s hand drops from his mouth to palm at his hardness. He wanted you to pay attention to him only, and he was finally gonna have that. He moves the vibrator’s settings to something more realistic and watches as you begin to grab at your chest.

“Feels so good, fuck," you pull down your top, revealing your tits to Robert– well, everyone, but he didn't want to think about that right now. "You're so good to me…"

"Yeah, just like that, (Y/N)," he takes his cock out from his increasingly uncomfortable slacks, quickly fisting it. "Show me your pretty tits, yeah…"

Robert waits for you to get comfortable with the speed he set, just to move it up by one. Your thighs tremble slightly, he could tell you were holding back. He sees you getting even wetter around the toy, glistening in the soft light of your room– it could be a studio, for all he knows. Robert's donations could certainly fund that. He acts like that idea didn't send a jolt through his body.

"Fuck, fuck," your head rolls back slightly, revealing your damp chest even further, "I think I'm gonna come already. God, don't stop!"

He couldn't care less that he was in his office and that his godforsaken secretary could walk in with some useless papers for him to sign at any given moment– he needed to make you come over and over again. Robert’s tip was leaking profusely, but his grip stopped him from doing anything prematurely. Maybe he wanted to be caught with his dick in his hand, what could anyone do about it?

Robert ups the setting again and watches you convulse around the tiny thing inside you. Uncontrollable moans and whimpers come out of his speakers at an embarrassing volume, but he’s only focused on keeping his pumps in time with your trembling. You babble nonsense as he brings the vibrations down somewhat, but not turning it off.

“Please, please, please… it’s so much!”

With his unoccupied hand, Robert quickly types into the chatbox:

Beg for me to stop if you want it so bad.

Your eyes glance at your own monitor, and you bite your lip before you respond, “Please, fischbait, don’t… don’t stop. Make me come again, okay? I want it so bad it hurts, please– fuck!”

He turns it to a pulsing setting, and you collapse back onto your plush duvet. Robert fists his length as you shake, the two of you practically moaning in sync. The wet sounds he was creating echo in his office as he chases his release, trying his best to time it with yours.

“I’m coming, God, I’m coming, please!”

Robert comes with a loud groan just as soon as you do, his release spilling all over his pristine desk. He continues to pump himself as you come down from your high, almost overstimulating himself to the point of incoherence.

You rise slowly from your bed, giggling tiredly, “Jesus fuck, thank you all so much for your… generous donations. I think I’m all tuckered out!”

He calmed his breathing only to hear your fucked out voice– which had him already preparing for another hard-on. “God, (Y/N)...”

“I’m gonna head out for the night,” you got closer to the camera, winking, “See you all next week, yeah?”

The camera clicks off, and he leans back in his chair, exhausted. Taking in the mess on his table, Robert realizes something. He never had a sense of clarity after orgasming with you, there were no regrets to be had. The things he’d do just to have you in his arms…

His reverie is interrupted by a ping! from his desktop, a message landed in his inbox.

today’s stream was perfect thanks to you, honey! you always treat me so well. i’d love to get to know you better ;)

Tonight was far from over.

[girl-next-door-writes]

Seize the Day

Characters: George Weasley x reader

Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, George Weasley struggles to find joy again until a chance encounter with you, a bright and determined customer, changes everything. As friendship blossoms into something deeper, you help him realize that today—and every day—is a good day to try.

Word Count: 1379 words

Prompt: ‘Today is a good day to try.’

A/N: This is one for the amazingly wonderful @caplanbuckybarnes NOT the decades challenge but the Disney Celebration!

It had been three years since the Battle of Hogwarts, but the wounds—seen and unseen—were still healing. The wizarding world was slowly piecing itself back together, just like the broken castle that now stood tall and proud despite its scars. George Weasley had found himself at the heart of the reconstruction efforts, not only helping with the restoration but also running Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes in Diagon Alley. Business was booming, but it didn’t fill the void. It didn’t make him feel whole again.

The bustling streets of Diagon Alley provided a distraction most days. There was always someone to make laugh, a prank to pull, or a product to test. Yet, in the quiet moments, when the laughter died down and the shop doors closed for the evening, George was left with the silence. The deafening, lonely silence.

It was on a particularly chilly Friday morning when you first walked into the shop, the bell over the door jingling with a cheerful chime that seemed at odds with the heaviness in George's heart. You were searching for a gift—a little something for your younger cousin, who was about to start his first year at Hogwarts. Your bright eyes scanned the shelves, taking in the colorful chaos that was Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

George noticed you the moment you walked in, not just because you were the only customer that early, but because there was something about the way you carried yourself, as though you had purpose in every step you took. Your smile was infectious, spreading warmth through the shop that even the enchanted heating charm couldn't match.

"Morning," George greeted, his voice rough from the chill and lack of use. "Looking for anything in particular, or just browsing for a laugh?"

You turned towards him with a grin. "A bit of both, I think. I’m trying to find something special for my cousin. It’s his first year, and I want him to have a good time. Hogwarts is magical enough, but a little bit of mischief never hurt anyone, right?"

The corners of George's lips twitched into the beginnings of a real smile, the kind he hadn't felt in too long. "I’ve got just the thing," he said, gesturing for you to follow him towards a display filled with Skiving Snackboxes. “These are great for dodging classes...not that I’d recommend that, of course.”

You laughed, a bright sound that seemed to make the shelves of Fanged Frisbees and Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder shimmer a little more. “I think I’d have loved these when I was at school,” you said, shaking your head. “Though I doubt McGonagall would’ve been as amused.”

He chuckled, a lightness in his chest that felt unfamiliar but welcome. "Yeah, she had a way of ruining our fun. But what are rules for, if not bending just a little?"

The conversation flowed as you explored the shop, and George found himself asking questions—simple things about where you were from, what you did for a living—and listening to your answers with genuine interest. He couldn’t remember the last time he had enjoyed talking to someone new. There was a spark in your eyes that made him want to know more about you, and he couldn’t help but wonder what you thought of him.

When you finally chose a Pygmy Puff named Milo, George wrapped it up with extra care, even adding a small charmed ribbon that changed colors with the seasons. "On the house," he said, when you went to hand him the Galleons.

You raised a brow. "Oh no, I couldn’t. That wouldn’t be fair.”

“Think of it as a little first-year gift. For your cousin,” he added quickly, a bit flustered. “It’s just nice to have a chat with someone who doesn’t want to turn me into a Canary Cream.”

"Well, thank you, George. I’ll definitely have to come back if this little guy is a hit." Your gaze lingered on him for a moment, a silent promise in your smile. With a final wave, you walked out of the shop, leaving George standing there with a sense of anticipation that had long been absent from his life.

Days passed, and then weeks. Each time you returned, the conversations between you and George grew longer. You stopped by even when you didn’t need to buy anything, just to chat and joke. The shop became a place of comfort for both of you—a bubble where time seemed to slow down, where the weight of the world felt a little lighter.

But there was something George hadn’t told you, something that gnawed at him whenever he was about to suggest meeting outside the shop. He wasn’t the same George he had been before the war. He wasn’t whole, not really. He had lost Fred, his twin, his other half. The shop—his laughter, his energy—it was all a performance most days, a way of pretending that life wasn’t a constant ache. He feared that if you saw the real him, you’d walk away. And he wasn’t sure he could bear that.

It wasn’t until a particularly rainy afternoon in late autumn, when you showed up drenched to the bone, that the dam finally broke. You burst into the shop, laughing as you shook the rain from your hair. “I swear, it was sunny five minutes ago,” you exclaimed, your eyes bright with amusement.

George handed you a towel, shaking his head. "The weather’s as temperamental as Filch on a bad day. You alright?"

“Perfectly alright,” you said, grinning up at him as you patted your hair dry. “Though I think I might’ve left my good luck behind. Bad timing on my part.”

“Maybe it’s just today’s way of reminding us that… well, that today’s a good day to try,” he said, almost absentmindedly. The words hung in the air, resonating between you two. He had spoken them before even realizing what they meant to him.

“A good day to try what?” you asked softly.

“Anything.” His gaze met yours, and he felt a shift, like the world was tilting and righting itself at the same time. “Anything that scares you. Anything that makes you feel alive again.”

There was a pause, filled only by the soft pitter-patter of rain against the shop’s windows. George could feel his pulse quickening, uncertainty mixing with the courage that had taken root in him, seemingly out of nowhere.

“Well,” you said at last, stepping closer to him. “I think today is a good day to try being brave.”

You reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from his face with slightly damp fingers. George’s breath hitched, his heart pounding. Without another thought, he closed the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was tentative at first, but deepened with every second. It felt like a release, like the first breath after being underwater for far too long.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads resting together, George let out a shaky laugh. “Merlin, I’ve been wanting to do that for ages,” he admitted.

You smiled, your hands still resting on his chest. “Then why didn’t you?”

“Fear, I suppose.” His voice was quiet. “I wasn’t sure I knew how to be happy again. Not properly.”

Your gaze was steady, and in it, he saw the same determination that had drawn him to you from the start. “You don’t have to be perfect to be happy, George. You just have to let yourself try.”

The words hit him with the force of a revelation. In that moment, with you standing there, soaked from the rain and looking at him like he was the only person in the world who mattered, George felt a kind of warmth that he hadn’t known in years.

You stayed with him in the shop until closing time that day, and then, when he asked if you’d like to grab dinner, you said yes without hesitation. It was only the first of many days that you spent together, some good, some difficult. But you faced each one side by side, with the promise that, no matter what, you’d keep trying.

After all, today was a good day to try. And tomorrow would be, too.

[sufferu]

So I’ve been working here and there on bits and pieces of a reaction fic of my own, and here’s a bit of a ficlet that kinda shows what I’m going for lol.

Reaction Fic Excerpt: A Stroll Through The Capital

____

“This is it! This is my chance!“

In the present moment, Subaru’s face turned scarlet.

Julius snorted loudly, quickly moving to cover his mouth with his hand as Subaru’s antics quickly escalated onscreen. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I just— forgot about that part of what you are like.”

“Shut up,” Subaru muttered.

Ferris was making no such effort to hide his mad cackling. “I didn’t forget!” he crowed. “Aw, this is gonnya be so much fun. I’m nyever letting nya live ANY of this down—“

“Shut uuup—“

Ferris was having fun teasing him. Many of the more naïve members of the audience were giggling right alongside him — but on the other side of the theater, Wilhelm had a darker look on his face.

Beside him, Rem was sporting a similar expression. “Wilhelm-san, is it?” she said quietly.

“That is correct,” Wilhelm said, not unkindly. “How may this old man be of service?”

“That boy…” she chewed her lip. “He got dragged into an entirely different world,” she clarified. “Without his knowledge and against his will. He was left entirely alone on the streets of a strange city where he did not know the language, with no understanding of the world around him, no means by which to defend or provide for himself, and with nobody willing to help a stranger like him out of the goodness of their hearts.”

“That…is correct.”

Rem didn’t say anything more. She didn’t need to: Wilhelm had already come to the same conclusion as her — as had most other individuals throughout the theater, if the looks on all of their faces was any indication. Even Ferris had a subtle air to his movements that hinted at his teasing being more of an attempt at a distraction from that horrifying revelation than a genuine source of amusement — though perhaps it was both.

Emilia was not one of those individuals. Neither were Beatrice or Garfiel, both of whom she was attempting to shush. “It’s reeally not nice to laugh,” she scolded. “Subaru didn’t even want us watching any of this, so be nice. And we promised not to make fun of him for anything embarrassing we see here, remember?”

“Subaru makes it difficult not to laugh, I suppose,” Betty giggled.

“N-Nah,” Garfiel sucked in a breath, his mouth twitching. “Princess’ got a point,” he agreed. “This is already — kinda private. My amazing self wouldn’t want anyone laughing at my memories either, no matter how embarrassing. Captain deserves — at least a little grace —“

Everyone watched as onscreen Subaru was gently shoved away from a demihuman-only bar, somehow tripping over his own two feet and falling over the railing and into the river of the Capital.

Garfiel burst out laughing all over again. This time Emilia gave up on trying to make him stop.

“Is this really how it was supposed to be?” The Subaru onscreen muttered to himself, sitting in an alley, absolutely drenched. “Wasn’t I summoned into a parallel world?!”

Anastasia watched with interest as Subaru rifled through his things, grumbling. “That’s the metia you used to find the White Whale, ain’t it?” she pointed out, eyes flashing greedily. “How did that work if it was from another world? Did ya have a bunch of mabeasts there, too?”

Subaru shifted nervously, embarrassment being taken over by something resembling unease. “N-Not exactly,” he admitted.

“Hmm…” Anastasia watched the caged Subaru for a moment longer before turning back to the screen.

“The truth is,” onscreen Subaru was saying, “I have no idea what to do next, and I still have no idea how or why I was summoned. I don’t remember stepping into a mirror or falling in a pond —“

“Wait, so.” Julius frowned. Oddly enough, he seemed to be relaxing at the sound of this statement. “Is this sort of occurrence normal, then? For castaways from beyond the Great Waterfall.”

“…N-No,” Subaru admitted, his face burning. “I kinda just — i-it was a popular book trope back home, so…” He hunched in further on himself. “I just assumed things were like that?”

“Oh.” Julius looked uncomfortable all over again, perhaps even moreso now than before. “I see.”

“— and if I’m to believe this is the otherworldly summoning format I’m used to, where is the beautiful girl who summoned me?”

Julius choked, hastily coughing into his fist. Everyone else had no such restraint. The room burst into laughter once again.

“I think I knyow what kinds of stories Subaru-kyun likes to read!” Ferris teased.

“Can it!” Subaru retorted, face almost as red as Reinhard’s hair.

“You know,” Julius attempted to soothe, the corners of his mouth twitching. “I do have a number of romance novels in my collection. If you would like to borrow—“

Subaru buried his face in his knees and screamed, the sound muffled.

[songbirdsingingthings]

In Love. Actually.

❀ Back to Navigation ❀

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi

MHA Masterlist - Main Masterlist

WARNINGS: Fluff, Spoilers for the movie Love, Actually.

Request by @luluwiie: how about Y/N helping Shouto (deliberately or not) to discover Christmas magic, and for the first time enjoy some good moments during Christmas time ? As they're still only-close-friends-but-secretely-pining-on-each-other, you know *^* Cause Pining. I love pining. Secret crush FTW

A/N: Oh we're so back. Thank you so much for the request @luluwiie you are the absolute best. I'm so serious about that, you never fail to have the loveliest requests and sweetest words. Happy holidays to everyone who celebrates, and enjoy!!!

Word Count: 1.8K

There seemed to be some kind of energy in the air – one that seemed to have wired every single one of Shouto Todoroki’s classmates into becoming a strangely more happy version of themselves. That was, of course, not to say that his classmates weren’t usually happy, they absolutely were, but during this time of year it was next level.

Taking in the scene before him, all he could really do was people-watch. Iida, if one could believe, was almost relaxed – leaning back in one of the chairs in the dorm living room and reading a book with a calm smile. A group of some of the girls, including Yaoyorozu, Jirou, and Uraraka, were trying their best to construct gingerbread houses. Even with the extra bags of icing Yaoyorozu created with her quirk, the walls kept falling down. But, even with each collapse of the houses, the girls just smiled, shook their heads, and tried again. Even Bakugou, against all odds, almost had a twitch of a genuine smile on his face as he bounced around the kitchen baking cookies, marinating several dishes for the night’s dinner, and prepping produce for the following morning.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out why. It was what many, if not most, called the most wonderful time of the year. Christmas. Well, to be more specific, Christmas Eve.

“You plan on joining in?” A soft voice sounded next to him. He smiled a bit and turned towards it.

“I’m not so sure.”

“Why’s that?”

“Christmas was never a particularly happy time for me.” Shouto wished he hadn’t really said it like that, because when he did, he had to watch your smile dim. His closest friend since the beginning, the first one he made, was you. You, with your pretty Y/E/C eyes and 

“Ah.” You say. “I understand.”

“That’s not to say that you shouldn’t enjoy it. I’m just more at ease looking at all of this from afar.”

“Nah, it’s no fun if not everyone’s having fun. Especially if you, my closest friend, isn’t.” Shouto watch you brush a stray cookie crumb from the alpine sweater you were wearing.

“Baking cookies with Bakugou?” He asked. You snorted and bumped his hip with your own.

“More like stealing away with some of them. He makes a mean snickerdoodle.” Shouto hummed and turned back to his classmates, watching them make merry. He never felt so out of place.

“I may just head back to my dorm, catch up on some things.”

“We’re on break from school, Shouto.” You deadpan. “C’mon. Let’s do something else.”

“I don’t want to pull you away from anything,” he begins.

“You’re not pulling me away. In fact, I think I have a more fun idea in mind. Let’s go back to mine.”

“Just to recap,” Shouto says, sitting criss-crossed on your bead, “you want to checklist your way to making new holiday memories? So that I can enjoy Christmas?”

“Exactly!” You say, pointing towards him with the aforementioned list. “I’m telling you, I think you’ll find at least one of these things fun.” Shouto considered the list before him for a moment. Things like ice-skating, movie marathons, and gift shopping were all included.

“And you’ll do these things with me?” He asked, confirming that he wouldn’t be facing such activities by himself.

“Of course.”

“Then I’m sure everything will be fun.” It almost looked like a flicker of a blush danced on your cheeks, but he must have just been seeing things.

“Alright. Where do you want to start?”

“Well,” he considered, looking outside of his window. The sun had already set and a fair amount of snow was piling up on the ground outside, “seeing as many of our options involve going into the city, which isn’t entirely safe right now, we should probably settle on something a bit more tame.” You jumped to sit next to him on your bed, your hands going to the windowsill. 

“Damn,” you say, shooting him a somewhat embarrassed look. Shouto couldn’t help but smile. He loved whenever you had that look on your face. Your nose scrunched a bit and your hands went to your cheeks.

“I’m happy with a movie,” he suggests, taking one of your hands from your cheeks. You pause for a moment, waiting for your breathing to get even after his actions, and then settle in.

“Well, it’s gotta be the perfect movie.” You think, grabbing your computer while Shouto unfurled the blanket at the bottom of your bed. “Nothing too cheesy but nothing too sad. So, probably, no Elf or It’s A Wonderful Life. Although It’s A Wonderful Life is so good.”

“Why don’t we watch it then?”

“It makes me cry. Kinda counterintuitive to me helping you make happy Christmas memories. But we’ll put it on the ‘to watch’ list.”

“And Elf is cheesy?”

“Kinda,” you admit, staring at the blinking line in your search bar. “Although it’s funny.”

“So you want something funny… and heartfelt… and something that helps with the idea of Christmas?”

“That’s it!” You exclaim, your fingers flying across the keys. You pull up a movie and sit back in your pillows with a satisfied smile, waiting for Shouto’s reaction.

“Love Actually?” He says, looking closely at the movie cover. “It doesn’t really sound like a Christmas movie.

“Trust me,” you say, putting a hand on his shoulder, “it is. The best.”

“I always trust you,” he says, giving you another one of those heart bursting smiles. The kind, it seems, he saved only for you. But of course, it was probably you making it up. He was your friend, as you had stated before, your closest friend. You did not want anything to mess that up, even if you had to keep some of your feelings under lock.

“Well then,” you clear your throat, “get ready for Christmas wonder.”

As the finishing notes of God Only Knows by the Beach Boys played from the tiny speakers in your computer, you sighed happily and closed your laptop. You turned to find Shouto, searching his face for any kind of reaction.

“So, thoughts?”

“That was…” he trails off. Immediately, a sense of disappointment in yourself bloomed.

“Oh god, you didn’t like it all did you?” You fret. “It was probably too much, I’m sorry, I should’ve found something else–”

“Y/N.” Shouto says, interrupting your rambling.

“Yeah?”

“I loved it.” Where panic took hold previously, excitement sparkled in your eyes.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, some parts were certainly… interesting,” he says, making you laugh, “but I thought it was really nice. But,”

“Uh-oh,”

“I don’t really understand the whole message in terms of Christmas.”

“Huh?”

“Well,” he says, shifting a bit on your bed to face you more, “I understand that it all takes place during Christmas, but it mostly centered on relationships. Both good and bad. I still can’t believe he cheated on his wife with that girl though. And she forgave him? Just like that?” You laughed and leaned into him

“Well, I don’t think that’s the whole story. And they have kids, so she was putting them first. But, more importantly, it conveys the main message of Christmas.” You say to a dumbfounded Shouto.

“And what’s that?”

“Love, of course. In every situation, love is what remains constant. For a friend, for a family member, for their significant other… love is what Christmas is all about.” Shouto felt his heart speed up as he looked at you.

“I think I may be starting to get it.” Your breathing became short as he looked at you. It was quiet, so quiet, in your dorm room.

“You are?” You whisper.

“Yeah,” he says, bringing his hands to cup your face. You were moments from closing your eyes until someone banged on your door.

“Y/N! Todoroki! You in there?” You squeezed your eyes shut and sighed.

“Yep! What’s up Mina?” Shouto smiles as your frustration becomes evident on your face. 

“We’re all gathering in the common room! One last activity before we all go to bed and wake up for Christmas morning!” You glance at Shouto to see him grinning, which makes you roll your eyes in amusement.

“Okay, we’re coming!” Shouto shuffles off of the bed first, helping you to your feet as well. The two of you leave your dorm and make your way down the hallway, only to stop in the doorway as you find all of your classmates face you with smug smiles.

“Is everything okay?” Shouto asks.

“Yeah guys, what’s up with the crowd?”

“Look up!” Uraraka smiles, pointing with one of her hands to whatever was above you. A cold sense of dread courses its way through your body as what you were worried about was confirmed. A seemingly harmless sprig of mistletoe was hung delicately on above the doorway, sitting just above you and Shouto. All of your classmates laugh as they see your face, making Shouto’s twist in confusion.

“Mistletoe?”

“Yeah,” you confirm sheepishly. “It’s this Christmas tradition where two people have to kiss if they walk underneath mistletoe at the same time. We don’t have to do it. It’s stupid, really.”

“On the contrary,” Shouto says, sweeping an arm around the small of your back, making your heart jump in your chest. “I actually kind of like Christmas traditions.” Your anxious smile turns into a wide grin.

“Really?”

“Mmm.” he hums in affirmation, using his other hand to tilt your head up towards him. “In fact, I think I love Christmas traditions.” You didn’t have time to come up with a cheeky response before he pressed his lips to yours. The whoops and cheers from your classmates faded to become background music. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, wrapping both of your arms around the nape of his neck. You went up on your tiptoes, leaning further into him and deepening the kiss. The both of you leaned away after a few moments, laughing as the class descended into pure chaos as several other duos, including Kaminari and Jirou as well as Midoriya and Uraraka, were being pushed towards the white-berried plant. Shouto led you back down the hallway to your room's door, pressing another kiss to your lips.

“Merry Christmas, Shouto.” You smile. Opening the door as you bid him goodnight.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.” He says. He leaves you with one more quick kiss before he says goodnight. All you could do after you closed the door was slide down it, a lovesick smile on your face. You were in love and so was he. Actually.

Taglist:

@luluwiie​ ~ All-Flora Florist

@maiacroson​ ~ All-Flora Florist

@nerdypuppytimemachine​ ~ All-Flora Florist

@softvanlla​ All-Flora Florist

@catguinsstuff ~ All-Flora Florist

@smallxbunny​ ~ All-Flora Florist

@the-emo-asgardian​ ~ Snowbell Florist

@lovers-liability​ ~ Snowbell Florist

@palenightmarepersona​​ ~ All-Flora Florist, All-Tree Arborist

[ozzy-boy]

Jealous headcanons for your faves pls?

oh my god oh my god oh my god.

Cole:

-Jealous Jealous Jealous. The MOST jealous do I even need to say it???

-He's jealous about EVERYONE and EVERYTHING. Hell, he'll be jealous of stuffed animals on your bed or your phone if you're paying attention to it and not him. Cole will get jealous of the pillow you lay your head on and insist you should lay on him instead.

-Horrifically, gut-twistingly jealous of other people. He tries not to let it show around you too much, but he's still pretty obvious about it.

-He gets this tight-lipped smile and talks through his teeth when he's jealous. You'll probably see his eye twitch too.

-"Ah... you got coffee with them, huh? I'm so... happy you had fun, darling."

-Although he only smiles along with it when you're with him. When Marshmallow isn't around, he really lets it out.

-Pacing back and forth, fingernails digging into his own skin to alleviate all the pent up emotions inside him, all the anger. The dark expression on his face along with his grinding teeth showing a side of him you'll hopefully never get to see.

-He just doesn't understand why you waste your time with these low-lives. They're so far beneath you- they can't possibly love you like he does.

-As far as he's concerned no one else should even breathe the same air or look in your direction. Hates hates hates having to share his beloved with anyone else.

-He knows deep down that it's unreasonable for him to feel this way, but he can't help it! He can't stand having your attention taken away from him.

Scale:

-Despite how much he tries to hide it, deep down, Scale is very insecure.

-He can take lives and throw himself into training like it's nothing. When it comes to his profession, Scale is extremely confident. Relationships are another story.

-Scale is genuinely in disbelief that you like him.

-I feel like he doesn't fully understand why he's jealous of others around you.

-When Scale is jealous, he gets easily annoyed and snippy. Chances are he may say something really mean without intending to.

-He instantly regrets it and looks like a kicked puppy, so it's hard to stay mad at him for it.

-Scale kind of operates under the assumption that eventually, you'll get bored and break up with him. He's defaulted to trying to keep your relationship at arms length so it doesn't hurt as much when it happens.

-Well, that's what he tells himself. It's hard to stay distant from someone like you. Sometimes, seeing you interact so happily with other people reminds him of how temporary your relationship is.

-Little does that idiot know, he's stuck with you for life. Please kiss his dumb face and remind him of that fact.

[whydidoth]

As someone who frankly watches too much hbomberguy, I was fairly startled by the tone he adopted in his latest video in regard to his own sexuality. He has been openly bisexual, coming out (as far as I’m aware) on his channel five years ago in a video on adaptations of HP Lovecraft, but his bisexuality overall hasn’t been particularly present. Even in instances like discussing the queerbaiting of Sherlock or the ability in Fallout to officially play as a bisexual character, he tends to approach the topics in such a way that if you didn’t already know his sexuality, you’d probably just assume he was a good ally. Genuinely, I would not be surprised if casual viewers of his channel had had no idea. I saw someone else suggest that he centered his own bisexuality so much at the start in order to dissuade accusations of him targeting Somerton for being gay. While I think this is certainly plausible, on a pure narrative level, I can’t help but see this most recent video as a book ends to his one on Lovecraft.

In that video, he talks about the value of adaptation and how adaptation at its best doesn’t recreate the work but is a response in concert with it. He speaks very personally about how the film Cthulu embodied the deep, crawling horror of being an outsider in a way that he resented as a kid. As a queer adult, he came back to find not only catharsis but also that it understood the essence of Lovecraft and of his own experience in a way he had been unable to when he was younger.

In his video on plagiarism, he emphasizes how the harm extends past the simple act of stealing someone else’s work, and how plagiarism goes on to suppress genuine dialogue among new voices with new ideas. In some regard, this is a direct response to his original thesis, and the response is one of despair. We are without adaptation. We are without queer voices and narratives.

This shouldn’t be where things end, and I don’t think he would have bothered uploading this video if he had seen no hope for things going differently in the future. I know it’s fun to revel in the scandal of this call-out, but ultimately, we’re witnessing a tragedy. In addition to supporting and giving small creators a shot, I think we should also take this as a chance to be less hesitant about promoting and sharing our own stories.

I have a youtube channel that’s been sitting in the corner collecting dust for a year now, but I’m going to try picking it up again. I’ll be putting a link to both hbomberguy’s video on Lovecraft and my own channel in the notes, and I would encourage everyone to similarly shamelessly self-promote in the comments—literally everything from soundcloud to twitch to personal blogs, go nuts. Let’s all make sure the future is over-saturated with authentic, marginalized voices, yeah?

[honkytonk-hangman]

Checkmate

Jake Seresin x Aviator!Reader

Summary: You've been transferred to Dagger Squad, which is both good and bad. Good, because it meant the brass felt you belonged with the best. Bad, because the best already had a tight friendship group, and you were not yet apart of that. And you may never be, if you keep making fun of a certain someone's callsign.

Notes: This is basically me deciding that Jake is the biggest fan of 'Dallas' there ever was or ever has been. no I wont be taking suggestions. Thank you for coming to my TedTalk. This will probably have another part to it, but wanted to share as is for now.

Masterlist

You step into the squad ready room, glad to find it busy enough that your arrival goes more or less unnoticed. You weren’t normally the wallflower type, but you’d been deployed enough times by now that you’d developed a system for assimilating, one that mostly involved keeping your head down and performing so well that they would have no choice but to gladly welcome you. That way you never had to experience the mortification of being snubbed by an already established friend group who you would have no choice but to continue working with and seeing every single day.

Perhaps you were a little bit of a wallflower type, but this current transfer was going to be the greatest challenge to your usual ploy of sneakily befriending them all the while proving your worth. Not only was Dagger Squad made up of the top percent of Top Gun graduates in the past few years, but they had all been chosen for a classified mission just over a year ago, meaning that their pre-established friendship was probably going to be harder to sneak into than the Pope’s private snack pantry.

Thus, why were you moving at an even more subdued pace than usual. You were still in the observation stage.

To their credit, Dagger had been more genuinely welcoming than some of the group’s you’d subbed in for, but as nice as they all seemed, they still had a natural cohesion and flow, both in the sky and on the ground, which you were not a part of.

Yet, you remind yourself. You weren’t a part of it yet, but you would be. There was no alternative, because at last you had been assigned to a detachment permanently, which meant Dagger was it for you. You needed this to go smoothly, you needed to avoid any possibility of ostracization, embarrassment, or long-term derision. Just keep your head down and grow on them slowly, they’ll barely even realise you’re worming your way into their hearts until it’s already too late–

“Hey, Bishop!”

You manage to at least not look like a startled deer at the sudden call of your name. Across the room, you see most of the usual group gathered, Rooster and Phoenix taking up one couch, Coyote, Hangman and Payback spread over the other, with Fanboy lounging on the arm, balancing rather impressively. Paypack leans around Fanboy to check if he had your attention.

“Bishop,” he grins brightly when he sees you looking back at him, and you force yourself to calm down and relax as you approach, which is a little easier given his friendly aura.

“What’s up?” you ask, adjusting your go-bag on your shoulder, doing your best to sound casual but not uninterested.

“Your callsign, what’s it mean?” Payback doesn’t beat around the bush, and although you experience an amount of horror over the question, it isn't the first time you've been asked, or you’ve needed to explain. The chagrin you feel about your less-than-stellar identifier passes a little faster than it usually does though, as Payback waits for your answer with nothing but genuine curiosity and interest.

“Oh–”

“–‘Who shot J. R.?’, Right?” Hangman cuts in suddenly, and you think he sounds strangely excited. Your lips twitch, wanting desperately to grin, but you don’t want anybody to think you’re laughing at him, so you just quickly nod, and gesture that he’d got it.

“What?” Payback and Fanboy speak at the same time, turning to look at their friend in equal amounts of confusion, amusement and disbelief. Hangman stares back, either refusing to be embarrassed, or being physically incapable of feeling it in the first place.

Apparently, even in regards to Dallas.

“The greatest cliffhanger in T.V. history? Oh, come on!” Hangman throws his hands up, shaking his head. You can’t be sure of exactly how much of his incredulity is real, though the accusatory look that each person in the room receives in turn tells you that perhaps you should keep your own thoughts about the classic to yourself.

“Unbelievable! Nobody here is too good for Dallas!” Hangman huffs resentfully, pointing specifically at Coyote, who is the only one not bothering to hide his snickering.

You blink away from Hangman, leaving him to what looked like his surely impending conniption, at the hands of Dallas. Live by the oil tycoon, die by your mistress, your grandma would say.

You look at Payback, and shrug.

“The guy’s I trained with thought I sounded like the character, so…” you say with a shrug. Usually this was as far as the questions about your callsign would go, your explanation reasonable enough to those who asked.

“What? You don’t sound anything like him.” Hangman cuts in again, sounding as though the idea was personally offensive to him, aided by his disgusted expression.

Instead of taking offence, you startle and clap your hands, throwing them wildly out as though you were a character on a 90’s sitcom.

“Right?!” You exclaim, perhaps a little louder than you intend, and certainly louder than any of the squad expect of you either. You drop your Seinfeld-arms, and quietly clear your throat.

“I–I’m not even from Dallas.” you’d been wanting to say those words for the past eight years. 

Hangman rolls his eyes, as if to say ‘clearly’, but he sits up slightly and gestures vaguely at you instead.

“Your last name is literally ‘Bishop’– Every ready room I’ve been in for the past fourteen years has had about sixteen copies of the official chess rulebook– It’s just lazy,��� he waves the hand he’d flung your way, and shakes his head again with a derisive sniff, followed by a deep grunt.

“Not that J.R. is bad, or anything,” he adds, and it takes you a moment to realise his grunt had not been a part of his displeasure, and was in fact a result of Coyote’s elbow spiking him hard in the ribs.

“It’s certainly unique,” you shrug, you mind flooding with possible responses, but they were the kind you’d give to a friend, a fellow aviator you’d known and flown with for years, not a virtual stranger.

Then again, you were trying to assimilate, and in Seresin’s case at least, verbal sparring seemed to be something he actively sought out. You’d noticed it the past week. He wasn’t ever exactly mean but he toed the line, just enough to bait out a response, however, he was let down by the fact these people knew and cared about him, and were willing to simply ignore his attempts to roll around the proverbial mat (which, to his credit, he still seemed to gain some satisfaction from. The man was a master of mind games).

You aren’t completely certain you’re right in your observations, but you figure it couldn’t hurt to try, seeing as with very little effort, he’d helped you get over eight years of nitpicking about your callsign off your chest by simply pointing it out.

“Well, it’s not too unique. It could have been something really embarrassing, like yours.”

You realise then, that actually, it could hurt quite a bit to try after all.

Everyone stares either at you, including Hangman who blinks slowly, his face completely devoid of any give away as to whether or not you’ve just made your next few weeks here a whole lot worse for yourself. You think Rooster lets out a quiet chortle disguised poorly as a cough, at the same time Fanboy whistles slowly, like a school student signalling the start of a fight. You feel your face begin to heat up, and you clumsily shuffle your slipping back further up your shoulder, not helped by the way Hangman has not stopped staring at you, his eyes following your jerky, nervous movements.

That’s when you see it, and strangely despite the utter mortification and minor panic you’d almost been sent into, an amount of joy that is definitely too much fills your chest and head. Hangman clicks his tongue against his teeth and you can see clearly now, that although not a reaction you had seen him give his friends, he was performing this solely because he could see it was getting a rise from you, compounding your uncertainty.

You aren’t sure if being correct about the man living for drama is really a good thing at all in the long run, but for now, you’ll take the amused smirk that grows across his features, and the likely subconscious acceptance in his unrelenting gaze.

Phoenix snorts then and kicks out at Hangman’s shoe. She isn't looking at him though, instead she’s got you fixed in her gaze, grinning widely and brightly in a manner that suggests you might have just gotten a two for one deal tonight.

“We’re all heading out to the Hard Deck later, you should come,” she tells you, eyes sparkling in a way that makes you glad for the effective trick shot you’ve managed, as you’d had Phoenix pegged from the start as the hardest nut to crack. “Especially if you’re gonna keep tone on Jake.” she adds with a snort, and jerks her head in Hangman’s direction

You briefly glance toward the blond man, who has surprisingly little add, considering his downfall was being planned right in front of him, but he simply seems to be listening good-naturedly, as if he didn’t spend every conversation he had playing a verbal game of cat and mouse his opponent usually had very little chance of winning.

Now, he sits quietly, half listening to what Phoenix had been saying, and half tuned in to Payback and Fanboy’s lively chatter about pool trick shots. Hangman cuts in, declaring the trick shot described as ‘simple’, and you wonder if Phoenix considers beating him at pool to be keeping tone.

From the way he clearly puffs his chest out now, fully invested in the trick-shot chatter, you think it just might.

You look back to her, and find that she too has picked up on the boy's plans for later, her face now pulled into a near-machiavellian grin. She dips her chin in question to you, and then towards Hangman, the meaning clear as crystal, and you give her a completely unrestrained smile in response, which only makes her own smile turn positively villainous.

All of sudden you feel as though you’ve arrived on the first day of summer camp. Before you even know it, you feel a friendship begin to form, one far stronger than any mere pinky promise, the kind of loyalty that can only be adequately expressed through the sacred exchanging of friendship bracelets.

Camp is ended when the up until now quiet presence of Rooster lets out an amused snort. He looks as though he wants to say something, to Phoenix, at least, but holds off, either because it would give the game away to your unsuspecting victim, or perhaps because he didn’t really know you well. The man wasn’t shy, per se, what you’d picked up over the last week was that of a man happy to let others do the talking, but would gladly take part if he had something to offer or add. The kind of quiet confidence that comes from knowing you were actually extremely cool, you suspect.

It was nice, and one of the reasons you were so eager to make a good impression and naturally ingratiate yourself here. Unless something majorly disruptive were to happen, this was your squad now, very likely until you left. There was nowhere to go up-wise, Dagger was the best of the best.

You and Phoenix reign in your expressions and she shrugs more casually, leaning back into the cushions.

“We’ll see you later, then. Bob lives on base, so I can ask him to wait for you if you want?” To her credit, her voice has fallen back into a smooth casualty that only further cements your desire to be her friend. You nod and give your own shoulders a bit of a roll.

“I’d appreciate that a lot, if it's not too much trouble for him?” You aren’t sure you’d go if it meant going on your own. You might be a great Naval Aviator, but you disliked driving, especially at night, and would go some ways to avoid it if you could. Phoenix’s eyes briefly flash with mischief and trouble, but she waves off your concern.

“Nah, he’s always taking this lot home. I’ll let him know.” her eyes again, twinkle, and you get the feeling that soon your numbers in the conspiracy to knock Hangman down a peg or two would rise. Well, it already had, if Rooster counted, but you weren’t sure about him yet.

Instead of letting yourself start to try and unravel and unpick the mystery that was Rooster, you call it a night with two sort-of-wins under your belt.

It does briefly occur to you, that once you get a pool stick in hand, Hangman may not be in the ‘win’ pile for very long.

[louisapennyfeather2021]

My sibling and I thought of a hilarious sub-plot for Season 2/possible main plot for future seasons of Hazbin Hotel:

First and foremost, it would require the introduction of Archangel Michael, voiced by the one and only Andrew Rannells. We just wanted him to be a part of the cast, but introducing Michael would be really interesting for a few reasons.

For starters, we know there will be discussions between Lucifer and Heaven. 1) He intervened in the Extermination(even though a Hellborn was harmed and Heaven broke their end of the deal). Heaven won't just let that go, especially since Adam is dead(now a sinner???) 2) Pentious was redeemed, so if Lucifer and/or Charlie find our, that would mean they have a LOT more conversations with Heaven.

Let's say druing one of these conversations Lucifer is at his whits end with Sera and the rest of the Heavenly Council. Maybe he makes a demand to bring the Big-Boss-Man into this. Well, you see, God doesn't get involved much unless it's really a big deal, so who better to send in his place than his Gold-Star Son, Michael???

(For the sake of this post, let's run with the idea that Lucifer and Michael are genuinely brothers. Just for the fun of it, we could even say that they're twins and neither can agree on who was "born" first)

And ohhhhh, how Lucifer immediately regrets it, not because Michael is necessarily a threat to Lucifer. No, no, no, Michael is essentially harmless right now. But Michael is Lucifer's "perfect" brother. The golden boy who stood by their father's side while his wayward brother Fell.

And boy, is Michael very well aware of the fact that he's the favorite. Lucifer mostly can't stand him because he's rather smug and entitled. He also 100% refers to himself in the 3rd Person and it makes Lucifer's eye twitch.

Michael isn't really an antagonist, more so an obstacle similar to Sera. He's like a weird mix of Adam and Sera. He's not vulgar like Adam, but he's not exactly the epitome of Heavenly Grace like Sera. Think of the most stereotypical entitled Cinderella step-sister or Sharpay Evans from High School Musical.

Michael has power, that goes unsaid. He's an archangel, of course he has power. However, when he initially defeated Lucifer, it was with the help of God. By all technicalities, Lucifer and Michael are on the same grounds for power. Maybe in the future, if we get an all out war with Heaven, it could come down to a fight between brothers/families. Lucifer might taunt Michael similarly to how he taunted Adam, but Michael is also one of the warriors of Heaven, stronger than everyone except God. This would be a fair fight between the two.

And imagine Charlie trying to process the fact that she has family in Heaven, but they had no interest in even thinking about her. Charlie's ideas of Heaven have already been tainted and she's aware of how Heaven hurt Lucifer, but to really process it and feel it first hand when Michael dismisses her like they aren't direct family? It could help drastically change Charlie's outlook on redeeming sinners into Heaven. Maybe it could push her to have a more radical opinion on Heaven and how it functions. That doesn't even take into account how she'll feel when she finds out where Lilith has been while Hell suffers Extermination after Extermination.

But all angst aside, can we just take a minute to imagine how hilarious it would be to watch Jeremy Jordan and Andrew Rannells banter on screen? It was great to watch Lucifer and Alastor play verbal badminton, but Lucifer and Michael?? Hell, maybe Lucifer and Alastor might finally agree on something and it would be their mutual disliking of Michael.

I also think it'd be really funny for Michael to call Lucifer "Lucy", but in a really condescending way that had Lucifer ready to launch into the most epic Sibling Cat Fight of all time. I also personal think Michael refuses to use forks because a certain Fallen Angel spent at least 200 years antagonizing his dearest brother with one.

This post started as "silly haha, Jeremy and Andrew being silly" and then I got distracted.

The big take away is that I really want Andrew to make an appearance in the show in the future and I think him doing that through Archangel Michael would be brilliant.

Kudos to @anymal28 for helping me with initial idea

[cherryshortycake]

Can I make a request about Bakugo being with a partner (female reader) who is loving and affectionate, where she is not ashamed to show affection towards him?

(I don't know if you can make two orders 👀)

She comes from a culture where displays of affection are very visible in many parts of her country (Argentina more specifically), where a kiss on the cheek is a greeting for both women and men, in fact when she transferred to the UA, many from CLASS 1A were surprised when she greeted them all more informally, where one who was half disgusted was Bakugo, who was surprised and then acted like he didn't care, Y/N found that a little funny.

There would begin a little mischief between these two, Y/N was one where she showed her affection to everyone. She always hugged him, greeted him with a kiss on the cheeks or on the lips, whether in public or not, on occasions she would put her arm on his shoulder or when they were talking to the rest of the Bakusquad in the common living room and they are sitting, she will be next to him hugging him, etc. You can add more signs of affection!

A/n: awwwwwww Of course!! And just wanted to say if you enjoy my writing here, I have a fan favorite new story called "Beyond the Blast was Explosive Bonds" which is a (Bakugou x OC) slow burn romance. And support would be so appreciated..... The link is here my friends: https://www.wattpad.com/user/Cherries_Suki

Enjoy!

mwahhhhhhh

The hallways of U.A. High echoed with the lively chatter of students as Y/N, a transfer student from Argentina, made her way through the corridors. In her vibrant and affectionate nature, she greeted her new classmates with warm smiles and hugs, occasionally surprising them with a friendly kiss on the cheek.

As she approached Class 1-A, the students turned their attention toward the newcomer. Bakugou, in his usual explosive manner, eyed her with skepticism as she cheerfully approached.

"Y/N, right?" Mina Ashido chirped, pulling her into a friendly hug.

"Yeah, that's me! Nice to meet you all!" Y/N beamed, glancing around at the curious faces.

Class 1-A was a mix of confusion and amusement at her informal and affectionate greeting style. Most of them reciprocated with smiles and laughter, appreciating the cultural exchange. However, Bakugou, unaccustomed to such displays, couldn't hide his discomfort.

"HEY, huh? What's with the cheek-kiss crap?" Bakugou grumbled, crossing his arms.

She chuckled, not bothered by his reaction. "It's just how we greet each other in Argentina. No need to make a big deal out of it."

Bakugou huffed, trying to appear unfazed. "Yeah, whatever. Just don't expect me to join your weird greeting club."

Y/N grinned mischievously, deciding to have a bit of fun with the explosive hero-in-training. "Oh, come on, Bakugou. You know you secretly love it."

He scowled at her, trying to keep his composure. "Like hell, I do!"

Undeterred, Y/N leaned in and planted a quick, friendly kiss on Bakugou's cheek. The entire class gasped, their eyes widening at the unexpected display of affection. Bakugou, however, froze for a moment, a blush creeping across his face.

"Y/N, what the hell?!" Bakugou shouted, wiping his cheek furiously.

She burst into laughter, finding his reaction utterly amusing. "Relax, Bakugou. It's just a kiss on the cheek. It won't kill you."

He grumbled incomprehensibly, but the corners of his lips twitched, betraying a hint of amusement.

As the days went by, Y/N continued her warm greetings, slowly chipping away at Bakugou's initial resistance. Whether he admitted it or not, he found her affectionate nature intriguing, and deep down, he appreciated the genuine warmth she brought to the class.

Over time, Bakugou became more accustomed to Y/N's displays of affection, and while he still grumbled about it, there was a subtle softening in his demeanor whenever she greeted him. Unbeknownst to him, Y/N had successfully cracked through the tough exterior of the explosive hero, leaving a trail of laughter and warmth in her wake.

And so, in the vibrant halls of U.A. High, Y/N continued to share the rich tapestry of her culture, one cheek-kiss at a time, bringing a touch of Argentina to the hero-in-training and inadvertently turning Bakugou's scowls into begrudging smiles.

----------

BUT:::::: for when you guys are officially dating.........

The warmth of Y/N's affection had found a permanent place in Bakugou's daily routine, and despite his gruff exterior, he secretly reveled in the tenderness you brought to his life.

One sunny afternoon, as you strolled through the campus, Bakugou's hands stuffed deep into his pockets, you couldn't resist wrapping your arm around his. You leaned your head on his shoulder, a content smile gracing your lips.

"You're awfully touchy-feely, aren't you?" Bakugou remarked, though the playful glint in his eyes betrayed his true feelings.

You chuckled, squeezing his arm a bit tighter. "You love it, Katsuki. Admit it."

Bakugou huffed, refusing to acknowledge the truth. Yet, he didn't pull away. In fact, he found himself growing more accustomed to the subtle displays of affection, a testament to the genuine connection you shared.

One day, after a particularly challenging training session, you surprised Bakugou with a soft, lingering kiss on the cheek. The rest of Class 1-A exchanged surprised glances, half-expecting an explosion from the usually explosive hero.

To their astonishment, Bakugou's only response was a grumbled, "About time," before he stormed off, his face painted in a light shade of pink. It seemed that the hero, once resistant to affection, had grown to appreciate the genuine warmth you brought to his life.

Later that evening, in the quiet of your shared dorm room, Bakugou finally let his guard down. "You're too damn affectionate, you know that?" he muttered, his gaze avoiding yours.

You grinned, pulling him into a tight hug. "But you secretly love it, don't you?"

His only response was a subtle nod, and you could feel the tension in his shoulders slowly melting away. As the night unfolded, you found comfort in each other's arms, the unspoken language of affection weaving a silent thread between you.

In the weeks that followed, you continued to shower Bakugou with your warmth, from casual cheek-kisses to heartfelt hugs. And, much to the class's surprise, Bakugou didn't resist. Instead, he found himself seeking those moments of affection, an unspoken acknowledgment that your presence had become an essential part of his life.

As the hero-in-training who once scorned displays of affection learned to embrace them, you and Bakugou discovered that love could be found in the most unexpected places, and sometimes, all it took was a little warmth to melt even the coldest of exteriors.

[acidnhuskerdust]

I have an idea what if we had jealous husk not jealous of angels work obviously, but jealous of an old friend that appeared or something like that I kind of want to see him jealous

This sounds like a lot of fun!!! So here is a lil drabble!!! Also thank you, you're my first ask! :DDDD

All Mine (Husk x Angel 18+)

With his time spent at the hotel, Husk grew to appreciate the relative peace it had to offer. Yes, all demons that resided in the hotel carry their own notes of noise and chaos, but it still didn't compare to the bustling casinos he would own during his hay days. There were petty arguments and the drunk shouting during rowdy nights, but Husk preferred them any day to the overwhelming clamor of nightclubs.

However, when Angel approached him, his pretty lips forming that irresistible pout and eyelashes fluttering, asking if they could spend a night out, Husk couldn't resist. He can't tell Angel no when he looked that good.

So there he was, perched at the bar with long white claws curled around a chilled bottle, sipping slowly. His gaze was fixed, not on the chaos of the bar, but on the demon who held his attention completely. Husk watched, captivated, as even Angel's wildest, most provocative dances seemed effortlessly fluid. In such a chaotic scene, Angel's every move was like shelter in a storm.

As their gazes locked, Angel flashes Husk this beautiful, big smile that makes his heart flutter. Then he motions with his long finger to come over, and Husk knew he was wrapped right around it. With a soft chuckle, he sets the bottle down onto the bar and pushes himself off the stool, weaving through the crowd to find who he adored most.

While pushing past a couple dancing close together, he notices a shift. Angel's focus had drifted; his dance has ceased. Instead, he was beaming, his face alight with excitement as he clasped hands with another demon, talking animatedly above the din of the music. Husk's brows knitted together in confusion and a twinge of annoyance as he scrutinized this new figure.

Tall, buff with large horns that resembled a rams. Who the fuck was this guy? And why was Angel so happy to see him?

A twitch in Husk's eye betrayed a sudden pang in his heart, a sensation distinctly flavored with jealousy. Now, Husk doesn't get jealous too often, he doesn't mind Angel's career, doesn't care what he does at the studio, because that wasn't his Angel, that was a persona.

But when he sees him smile so genuinely at someone else? He was jealous alright.

Husk advanced, suppressing the growl that threatened to rise from the depths of his chest. He wrapped his arm firmly around Angel's slender waist, drawing the taller demon in a close embrace. Angel's eyes met his, widening slightly in surprise before softening into a warm, welcoming smile.

"Hey baby," Husk returns the smile, albeit it forced. He exhales a breath, an attempt to calm his nerves as he looked over at the demon, giving him an unimpressed look. "Who's this?"

"Oh!" Angel brings his attention back to the other, "This is Damon! He was one of my buds back in the day, ain't that right?"

Damon nods his head. "Yup, used to live out on the streets together. It sucked, but we still had some fun, didn't we Angie?"

Angie?

Oh, Husk is going to kill this motherfucker.

His grasp tightens around his waist, forcing an even wider smile. "Well ain't that... Nice." He extends his hand out, "Name's Husk."

Damon gives him a firm handshake, and Husk had to consciously restrain the urge to squeeze too tightly. "So you're the one he was just talking about, huh? Well, it's nice to meet you."

"Uh huh." Husk gives a short nod of his head, his reply terse. Lifting his gaze to Angel, he caught onto the shit eating grin spread across his face. He knows.

"Well," Angel began, barely concealing a chuckle behind a cough. "We're gonna head back ta the bar now, kay? Maybe we'll catch up later?" "Yeah, of course, see ya around!" Damon gives them a small wave as Angel steered them both away, navigating through the bustling crowd. Husk lets go of the breath he didn't realize he was holding, mentally cursing to himself, he had to get over this possessive tendencies. He couldn't help it, not when Angel was so beautiful, so amazing. He was his.

As they moved, Husk felt hot breath against his sensitive ear, "You ain't jealous, are ya babe?" Angel asks with a teasing lilt to his voice.

Husk grumbles underneath his breath, this goddamn spider. "No, I ain't jealous just..." He trails off, trying to find a good excuse.

"Mm, sure." Angel giggles, giving his shoulder a squeeze. "Say... Why don't we head home? Use that pent up energy of yours to good use?"

"You don't gotta ask me twice."