#have a blast because its your special day

[notadreamurr]

Everybody go wish @justwantswafflefries a happy birthday RIGHT NOW because she is so awesome sauce!!!!!!!!!!!!

The amazing digital slasher by justwantswafflefries.......obviously

[totalswag]

can you do something with singer!reader having a christmas special like sabrina and when she talks about her boyfriend it’s drew that comes out dressed as santa and everyone realizes immediately.

oh my santa drew ⎯ DREW STARKEY

authors note if you havent watched the nonsense christmas on Netflix you should hehe. thank you for the request lovie! its a great request since christmas is right around the corner. writing this was so much fun and adding my own little bits in there. there's a couple lines from the actual skit too.

taglist ⤕ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set to go.

summary drew coming in as a surprised guest on a nonsense christmas.

warning(s) none just funny humor and drew dressed as santa

A Nonsense Christmas. 

This thought occurred to me one day at the beginning of this year. Christmas is your favorite time to celebrate, it was ideal. You've had incredible artists join you to perform songs and special guests for comedy skits—Tyla, Kali Uchis, Chappell Roan, and so many other talented guests.

It's been an absolute blast filming everything. The whole vibe of this small series is unbelievably funny and gets you in the holiday spirit.

Drew, your boyfriend, dresses up as Santa Claus in this skit. You wanted him to participate in this experience with you. He insisted on being Santa after you told him the final idea. No one knows about it except for the people working on set. Fans and the audience will be surprised.

The past few weeks Drew’s been walking around the house acting like Santa and going into character with his lines—No joke.

It starts off with you sitting on the single chair in front of your two friends, Alice and Max, talking about your boyfriend they haven't met. The living room set is decked Christmas out with a tree decorated behind you along with everything magical. 

"I can't wait to finally meet your man, Debbie, you haven't been hanging out with us since getting into a relationship," Alice asks, giggling at the end of her sentence. 

You quickly chuckle sarcastically, and Max joins in.

"No, I understand. Because we are doing long distance, it's been difficult to mix friend groups," you explain, making a combing hand motion. "You get what I'm saying?" you ask, leaning in slightly, squinting your eyes.

"Girl, I completely understand," Max shrugs his shoulders, offering you a nice nod of understatement, “I promise we will love him” he smiles.

Your face softens, "Aw, thank you both. I promise you, he will not disappoint," you wink playfully. 

Just wait till they see who walks through that door.

Your voice appears promising to them at that point. 

Your phone rings out of nowhere, and you pick it up; a mysterious boyfriend is ready to make his official entrance. "Oh, speak of the devil, he's walking up now," you shriek with delight as you get up from your seat and dance over to the front door—your famous tippy toe dance

Drew walks through the door dressed head-to-toe in a Santa Claus outfit, strode in with a jolly demeanor. His red suit, black boots, and fluffy white beard were undeniably festive.

Max and Alice exchanged puzzled looks, their jaws almost touching the floor. "Uh, is this…?" Alice inquired, her eyes wide in shock.

Debbie please be so for real...

"Is that Santa in front of me, or am I seeing things?" Before taking a close look, Max emphasizes the word "that." He squints his eyes and then turns to face Alice. "Yep, that's definitely Santa," he adds swiftly after reaching his conclusion.

Alice's jaw instantly closes as she tries to contain her composure and confusion over your boyfriend's sudden appearance as Santa.

"Guys, everyone, this is my boyfriend, Nick!" you cheer as you let Nick pass in front of you. introducing him to friends with a broad smile on your face. 

Max's mouth falls open, too stunned to speak. As she raises her eyebrows in amusement, Alice is attempting to piece together how this might have happened.

“I’ve heard nothing but great things about you two, It’s great to meet you” Drew says in character, pointing at Alice and Max. He smiles underneath the white bread.

Drew puts his left arm around your shoulder as you sit on his lap, putting your hands on your knees and grinning. You subconsciously find the Santa impression impressive.

With a gesture between Alice and himself, Max says, "Aw, same, um, as us..." pausing for a quick moment looking around, "Would you like anything to drink or snack on by any chance?" Curious, Max asks

Nick looks at Max and says, "Oh, um, maybe a warm glass of milk with." He sits down right away. "And a huge chocolate chip cookie topped with shards of sprinkles?" Nick added, highlighting the final phrase. 

"Yuck," Alice responds hastily.

You quickly drop your smile, looking at her. What did she say about my man?

Max frowns slowly and says, "Uh oh, I think we are out of shards." He then slowly turns, side-eyeing Alice—still attempting to take everything in.

When Nick sees that his clothing is covered in soot, he excuses himself to go upstairs to the restroom, leaving the three of you below until he returns.

As he reaches the steps, you watch him closely until Alice says, "Hey, this is actually insane but, um, that's Santa Claus, right?" She points up the stairs while posing mocking questions.

You look shocked in a moment. You respond, "Oh my god," while gazing at her as though she were crazy. You inquire informally, "What kind of messed up thing is that to say?"

The two of them ask you whether you are serious about the relationship or if it's a trick.

Max interrupts, "Debbie, girl, it's not messed up. Think about it, big white scruffy beard?" He was making bread motions with his hands.

You roll your eyes, scoffing, “well he decided to do no shave November, for your information.”

“And he has the classic big belly?” Alice tries putting her point clear.

Dramatically gasping at her comment, “And there it is, the body shaming begins,” throwing your hands in the air, Alice and Max make eye contact with each other wondering if your delusions will come to an end—Max quietly scoffs. 

"What kind of Mean Girls situation is this? You say, "Can't believe this," in an attempt to come seem as offended by their critical remarks. 

Alice mumbles to herself, "Okay, relax," as she scratches the back of her head looking around the room. 

You begin detailing his character and making it quite clear that he is Santa without actually stating so. When Nick came down the stairs, your two friends decided to stop commenting.

Max and Alice thank him for giving them gifts, and Nick flicks his fingers when he realizes he left something in the car and will be right back. "So, how does he make enough money to buy us all these presents?" Max glances in your direction.

You keep telling them that he described his exact job, but you were too preoccupied to pay attention and found it dull at the time. "If I'm not mistaken, toy manufacturer," you shrug your shoulders.

“Uh, Deb, you won’t be happy from what I’m gonna say,” Alice leans in, “that’s what Santa does,” she explains speaking in a high-pitched voice.

"Like I said before, he's not Santa Claus, his job doesn't even pay, and I don't—" You were interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the rooftop.

Is this girl okay? Max thinks to himself.

"Is your boyfriend on the roof?" Alice asks you a suspicious inquiry.

You laugh uneasily, "He's probably fixing something up there, right? He would have noticed something," you explain, "my partner can actually make something," smiling sarcastically, "like a guy," you swiftly shift your head over at Max, making a remark about what his boyfriend does for a living.

We weren't expecting to hear those words from you.

"Besides, if he was Santa," you pause, "then why is he so good in bed?" You cross your arms together, lean back against the chair, and give them a peculiar look.

The two chuckle in their chairs. "Oh, well, I didn't read that in the text," Alice replies drastically as though your remark had upset her.

A little while later, Nick shows up at the house with two gift boxes for your two friends. Your face lights up when you see him giving your two pals thoughtful gifts. Your words, "How thoughtful of you, my love!"

They had no idea how to find their gifts in front of them when they opened them and saw what they had long yearned for. You wonder how Nick knew they desired those gifts as you point to them. 

Everyone on stage and in the crowd bursts out laughing when Owen, who portrays Max, unintentionally fires the soft nerf bullet, striking Megan, Alice's character, on the side of her face. It was more humorous—Megan was fine, too.

Max and Alice, becoming all sensual in the moment, said they wrote letters to Santa Claus and just wished for them. You sigh softly and stare down at your feet. "Well, if he's really Santa, he would know that the only thing I asked for as a little girl was singing a duet with Shania Twain," you pout.

Is she coming out?

Is it my turn yet?

Suddenly, Shaian Twain enters the home door dressed as Mrs. Claus and asks to see her husband. After figuring everything out, you exclaim, "You are married?!" As you rise from your chair, your voice is full of shock and sadness.

Nick and Shain Twain explain their relationship and being open in sharing. Everyone in the living room is in a state of shock, except for Alice and Max. You quickly point to Nick, “He’s not Santa!” you raise your voice—voice cracking a little.

The audience laughs as they clap once the skit ends.

You giggle as you follow Drew after everyone has left the stage. "You did such a good job doing the Santa impression baby," you say, giving him a playful sideways nudge. 

He replies nonchalantly, as like he didn't need to practice, "Oh you know, gotta show them who the real boss is but it comes naturally."

You laugh, "Dork."

You decide to snap a quick photo of Drew before he can do anything else while he's staring at you from the couch in the dressing room with his bogus beard still on. You suddenly say, "Say cheese, Santa!" and take him by surprise.

You take a close look at the image on your screen, thinking, "Perfect for our Christmas card this year."

✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line across your name that means i couldn't find your account

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[boypied]

THE COCKPIT

pairings: stefan salvatore x male reader x klaus mikaelson

summary: stefan and klaus go to a highly exclusive strip club where they catch the male reader on one of his working days, they pay upfront for his 'special treatment'

requested by: anonymous

word count: 1,597

warnings: smut, hair pulling, ass eating, cum swallowing.

Stefan's blindfold begins to slip off his face, revealing the street lights as Klaus speeds up. "Where are we actually going?" Stefan says cautiously as he doesn't like to be in the dark about something, Klaus just chuckles slightly, very obviously excited. "A stripclub," he says bluntly with a very serious tone so that Stefan doesn't think he's joking, he turns his head to face Stefan with a smirk on his face whereas Stefan's eyes widen as he realises he's not joking then he rolls his eyes, "why?" Stefan asks bluntly as he waits for Klaus stupid answer "because...I'm horny and you're just SUPER uptight, " he says with a smirk on his face before Stefan can even defend himself Klaus shouts out excitedly "WE ARE HERE!" He jumps out his car and drags Stefan out the other side.

"Do we have to?" Stefan pleads with Klaus as he practically drags him from the car towards the club, as they get closer and their eyes adjust to the bright neon lights, Stefan's eyes dart up to the sign. "The Cockpit," he says, dumbfounded, whereas Klaus bites his lip at the name basically bricked up just from the title. Once they manage to get past security and the metal detectors, they finally make it inside to where the music is blasting from, "Did they really need all that security?" Stefan says, turning to face Klaus, whose eyes are locked onto the male strippers who are dotted around the club.

The Cockpit's boys are always treated with respect by the customers unless a customer has paid to degrade one of the boys, which he would've fully consented to. A twink in a bunny costume walks over to the two men, "you guys must be new, I haven't seen you around here" he says with a smile on his face, Klaus smirks at him slightly as he checks him out "yeah we're new, heard about this place from one of my friends. They said its the best." He says, his huge smile not dropping off his face once. The bunny-twink chuckles as he adjusts the tray in his hand "well you heard right, you might wanna go get a seat. The new show is about to begin, and he's the club favourite. The music dies down as the male stripper on stage struts off as the dj begins to announce the new on-stage dancer.

"Give a round of applause to the club favourite..." The dj shouts out, getting all the men in the crowd excited. Once all the clapping quieted down, the dj continued; "Sweet Cheeks." The spotlight circles the curtains as you tease your leg through the curtains, making all the men hollar out excited you pull open the curtains to reveal yourself completely. "WOOO!" One group of men yell out, causing you to smirk as you get down on your knees and crawl down the stage as your cute bikini-cut briefs hug your ass perfectly. You have suspenders connected to your briefs as one falls down your shoulder as you crawl to the centre of the stage while your bunny ears wobble.

Klaus and Stefan's eyes widen as you crawl across the stage practically towards them, Stefan digs his nails into the clubs chairs as he stares at you with hungry eyes. Not hungry eyes as in he wants to eat you but hungry eyes because he wants to beat the shit out of your hole, Klaus bites his lip as he grips the imprint of his cock. You lean back on your knees and fall on your back having your cock imprint on display causing all the men to scream and throw dollar bills to you.

You throw your body forward onto the money and arch your back, showing off your bubble butt, I grip onto all the money, pulling it up against your body. Causing all the men hollering out to you saying lewd comments about what they would all do to you. Once you finally finish your performance, you scoop up some money and strut off stage and put all the money into a box for later, since you had finished your performance you had to strut around to see if any of the men wanted a lap dance or something more... sexual.

The moment you step out of that side curtain and onto the main floor, Klaus and Stefan are right in your face, asking you so many questions, practically drooling over you. You eat up every moment of it, you do a little spin for them showing off your full body, and you notice their dick prints twitch with excitement. Klaus hands you a wad of cash, and you flick through it, letting your eyes naturally dart up to meet their eager eyes. "Follow me boys" you say in a seductive tone as you walk into the private suits. The lights change from purple to deep red, leading them into one of the curtain rooms.

They take a seat on the black couch as you stand in front of them, "get naked for me boys. Don't take your eyes off of me" you say in a sultry tone as they stand up and eagerly strip off naked in front of you, while they're undressing you slowly pull down your boxer briefs revealing your black thong that perfectly hugs your ass and hips. Stefan and Klaus slowly sit down with their raging boners on display, you get down on your hands and knees and slowly crawl over to them. You get down on your knees inbetween Klaus and Stefan and take both of their cocks in each hand and you begin jerking them.

You've become a pro at this because of how often you do it, at first it was hard doing it was your less dominant hand but now it's like it was meant to be. Both their moans echo throughout the soundproof "love room" as some people call it. You quicken the pace making them feel the utmost pleasure, you pull away "who gets to be inside me first?" You say seductively. You get into doggy position having your hole on display as Stefan comes up behind you and places a condom on and uses that lube to slide in. "AH!" You gasp out in shock at his size, you've never had one that size before.

Klaus watches from the couch the way your eyes flutter back and your body bounces back and forth, He slowly wraps his hand around his cock and begins jerking it off to you. It's like a live porno, he thinks to himself. Stefan pounds away at your hole getting every penny he put into that wad, he grips onto your hips watching the way your ass jiggles with each thrust. His eyes look up at the way your cheap Halloween store bunny ears wobble with each thrust of his cock.

"H-Harder" you whimper out in pleasure as his cock hits your g-spot. Normally the boys at The Cockpit don't jerk off while being fucked but something about this felt necessary to jerk off to. "So tight!" Stefan groans out with each thrust of his cock edging closer and closer to meeting the end of his pleasure, you jerk off your cock while he pounds out, they become sloppier and sloppier until he shoots his load filling up the condom he put on, he thrusts a couple more times before pulling out and tying up the condom. He gently slaps your ass as he sits back down on the couch watching as Klaus gets up and walks over.

Klaus rips open a condom and rolls it onto his cock, the size condom is large so you know your in for a treat. He grips onto your hips and pushes himself into your gaping asshole, Klaus groans out as inch by inch your hole clings onto his cock. You bite your lip hearing his moans, Stefan pulls out his phone and begins recording this encounter "don't worry this is for his private collection" he says to you as Klaus grips onto your hair pulling it back as he pounds away into you. Your eyes roll back as his cock twitches with each thrust.

Klaus has been edging all day at the thought of fucking one of The Cockpit boys and he got the best one in the house, Klaus' grip in your hair tightens as he pounds faster and faster you jerk off your cock quicker and quicker matching the rhythm of the way he fucks you, Klaus gets closer and closer fucking you roughly like a slut until he comes undone and nuts inside the condom as he continues to pound his way through it, he pulls away and pulls off the condom throwing it onto the floor. You breath heavily as you smile at them "hot" is the only word you can get out as Stefan and Klaus chuckle while they get changed.

Stefan and Klaus both look at eachother until Klaus speaks up "we'll be coming here again that's for sure" you blush as you've just earned yourself a new customer. Stefan agrees with Klaus' remark watching the way your bunny ears wobble as they both say their goodbyes and they leave The Cockpit. You clean up the used condoms, put your bunny costume back on and you leave the love rooms, walking into the break room packing all your stuff up and leaving for the night.

"best fucking night ever" you mumble to yourself wondering if any guy will ever top what they done to you.

taglist ~ @starboye @mailmango @ghostking4m @kingchaospostsstuff @crispysoup318 @inhumanshadows @its-ares @gayaristocrat @cronaaaaaaa @irlsamcarpenter

[toysrguts]

can i request sally face relationship headcanons maybe??

sally face fandom is sooo dead:(

sally face realtionship hc's!!!!

i dont write this kind of stuff usually but i actually had a lot of fun with this ^___^ i hope its everything u hoped for 🙏🙏

sal:

•his love language is quality time, he loves spending time with you even if youre just doing nothing together

•your presence is very comforting to him

•isnt physically affectionate unless he knows youre 100% okay with it

•once he gets comfortable around you he will not let go he loves cuddling

•your dates are more lowkey like playing video games or having movie nights

•writes little songs for you and plays them on his guitar

•the best listener, you can yap all day and you will have his full undivided attention

•you can feel the shift in his behavior when hes in public with you vs being alone with you. he can let his guard down when its just the 2 of you

•communicating is hard for him but he is very understanding

•has a lot of deep conversations with you

•at night especially is when he opens up most, and you find it really endearing

•he has insomnia so sometimes you stay up all night talking or doing other things

•he loves how good you are with gizmo, hes basically your child

•gets so flustered when you make eye contact with him so naturally because hes insecure and sensitive about his face

•your acceptance of him means a lot to him

•literally melts when you play with his hair or scratch his head

•has abandonment issues and often worries hes not doing enough but you do your best to reassure him

•he can also be really clingy but he knows when to give you your space

•gives you really meaningful obscure compliments constantly, he finds all your “imperfections” beautiful

larry:

•very loving but also likes to mess with you and is such a tease

•will randomly come up behind you and pick you up when you least expect it

•he loves playing with your hair, especially when youre in bed together he’ll run his fingers through it until you fall asleep

•takes you to all of his secret hangout spots around nockfell for smoke seshes and picnics

•although he can be intense sometimes, hes really gentle with you and knows how to calm you down when youre overwhelmed

•loves getting you little gifts when you least expect it

•he frequently invites you over for painting dates

•also treehouse dates!!!!

•falling asleep up there and getting to watch the sunrise together

•PLEASE steal his clothes he loves that shit

•especially when you give them back and they smell like you

•taking you to concerts and shows is like his favorite thing ever

•not afraid to show affection with you in public

•you're his and everyone needs to know

•when he gets comfortable you get to see a different side of him

•hes usually loud and silly and annoying but he has an emotional and vulnerable side that only you really get to see

•acts of service are his love language fs, he cooks and cleans for you all the time

•hes definitely the jealous type

•someone complimenting you is fine, but if he catches someone flirting with you hes throwing hands

•sharing music with you is his favorite past time

•picking up cd’s from the music store and blasting them on his stereo together

•or on public transport where each of you has an earbud in

•lisa LOVES you and is always so welcoming whenever you come to stay with larry

•makes special burned cd mixes for you and labels them with sharpie and doodles little things on them

ash:

•you are her entire world she cannot be away from you for more than 5 minutes

•thinks your eyes are really pretty and you catch her staring into them every so often

•makes really heartfelt handmade gifts for you (like one of her “little dudes”)

•tries to make you laugh when youre sad

•it works like 99% of the time

•takes you everywhere on her motorcycle

•“hop on loser, we’re going to mcdonald's”

•takes a lot of pictures of you together and hangs them up on her wall

•can always sense when something is wrong and always knows how to make you feel better

•writes you little love letters every so often so you never forget how she feels about you

•will beg and pleade to let her do your makeup

•its mostly just an excuse to get close to you and get to sit on your lap :3

•also loves styling you in different outfits even if you dont wear them out, youre like her own personal model

•has like 20 different nicknames for you

todd:

•he smells sooooo good

•like pine and cedar wood 🤤🤤🤤🤤

•and dont get me started on his hair

•its so fluffy and smells amazing he loves when you run your fingers through his curls

•loves taking you out and spoiling you because you deserve it

•so chill and easy to communicate with, your comfort and happiness is his number one priority

•very protective over you but he tries not to be overbearing

•talks about you to literally everyone when youre not around

•remembers all the little details about you that you would expect him to forget

•the biggest nerd ever and loves yapping at things he likes, but he loves hearing you talk about your interests even more

•if you get obsessed with something like a video game or tv show he will not rest until you get him into it too

•if you crash at his place, expect breakfast in bed

•if youve had a bad day hes there to pamper you and give you everything you need

•“i got you this cuz it made me think of you” as he holds out a rock in his hand

•seems really serious and intimidating but youd be surprised

•hes such a dork when you get to know him

•drives you around literally everywhere, he loves traveling with you with the windows down and the radio blaring

[amjustagirl]

Chapter 3

pairing: hoshina soshiro x f! reader

genre: romance, angst

wc: 3.6k

summary: you've loved soshiro since you were seven. he will always place his duty above you.

chapt 1 / chapt 2 / chapt 3 / chapt 4 / chapt 5

The fight with Number 12 is exhausting, but Hoshina Soshiro emerges victorious. 

Not that he had any doubt (lies, what a fuckin’ lie, cos there was a point where he thought he’d drop dead from exhaustion, because Number 12 really was the new improved Number 10, who’d damn near run him into the ground), but other than the fact that he’d very much like to curl up in his bunk and sleep for the next week, he is pleased with himself. 

He wonders a little about the choice of location of Number 12’s appearance. Chofu airport is outside of central Tokyo, mostly suburban other than the circle of industrial Izumo Tech buildings a few streets down which he’s too familiar with (you come to mind, but he dismisses that thought immediately), but evacuation efforts seemed relatively complete, so he doesn’t pay any of this a second thought.

Because, of course, Number 9 tries to get its dirty paws on Captain Mina Ashiro. And, as everyone knows, if Captain Mina Ashiro is absorbed by Number 9, so too with her would be the rest of Japan’s hopes of withstanding the kaiju threat. 

Hoshina Soshiro therefore has no space in his mind to deal with anything but that.

By the end of the entire ordeal with Number 9, he can barely prop his eyelids up. He has reports to make, the casualties in his division to account for, troops to rally because the kaiju threat is never over, they’ll hit exactly when his back is turned. The Captain deserves a break with all that she’s gone through today, so it’s his time to step up and support her wherever he can. 

Still, he sneaks a look at his phone. 

 <stay safe>  <don’t be eaten by a kaiju>  <eat ‘em for brekkie instead>

He’s tempted to respond, but tells himself that he has no time to. It’s not that he’s avoiding you deliberately. Things have been hectic, and you wanted distance, hadn’t you, to give your friendship breathing space, let it recover from any awkwardness that lingers. It feels strange, being bereft of you these past few months. His fingers draft texts to you before his brain catches up to remind him that he needs to stay away from you. He wanders about the base on his days off, tracing an aimless circuit between his room, the gym and his desk, burying himself in paperwork and relentless training.

He tells himself this is how it should be. Duty never stops its call. 

“Okonogi san, report on any casualties in the area.”

“Mostly clear”, she reports. “Most civilians managed to clear out with the help of the Japan Ground Self Defense Force.” 

He closes his eyes in relief, though there’s still a prickling feeling of unease. “What about the Izumo Tech buildings?” 

He recalls blowing right through some of the buildings in the compound, blasting through concrete, leaving nothing but rubble behind. Surely no one remained in those buildings. 

“Mm”, Okonogi hesitates. “We can’t say for certain but rescue workers said they may have had some people trapped in the wreckage.’

It’s not his purview to concern himself with rescue efforts when his speciality is to fight and exterminate monsters. So he returns to base, doles out back slaps and hi fives to his officers, especially his baby ducklings, as he teasingly names his latest batch of recruits, swallows perfectly marbled beef courtesy of Izumo-kun, which reminds him - 

“I may have knocked down some of your family’s buildings in a fight”, he jokes. “Send the bill to Number 12 instead of me though, a vice captain’s paycheck won’t cut it.” 

Instead of laughing at his joke, Haruichi remains pensieve. “Last I heard, a couple of our employees were being dug out of those buildings”, he says somberly. 

Soshiro forgets how to breathe. 

“There were people in those buildings?” he demands. 

“Not everyone left when the evacuation signal went off”, Haruichi replies. “Apparently some people got trapped in the weapon forge -”

His body reacts before Haruichi has a chance to finish. He doesn’t bother if he makes a scene by shooting to his feet, racing outside the mess hall to punch your number into his phone. “Pick up, damnit”, he snarls, pacing outside, pinching his nose bridge because his calls go unanswered, your phone isn’t even connected to the network - 

Perhaps you just dropped your phone in the chaos. There’s no way you’re still stuck there. You should’ve been smart enough to run at the first sign of trouble -

“Vice Captain, do you want me to check -” 

He blurts out your name. Bless Izumo Haruichi who springs into action without asking questions. 

“Hey, nii-san - yeah, look, could you help me look into something?” 

He’s probably overreacting. For all he knows, you’re warm and snug in your bed in your cramped apartment, not buried beneath tons of burnt concrete and twisted pillars. Now, in the valley of despair, he admits what he’s always known - he misses you dearly, has felt the loss of your easy friendship over the last few months, mourned the absence of your laughter and smiles. 

It hurts enough to miss you. It’s unbearable to even consider he might never see you again. 

“Yeah”, Haruichi says, face dropping. “Thanks for letting me know.” 

His blood goes cold. 

“They pulled her out of the wreckage a while ago. She’s undergoing surgery right now.” 

For the first time in his life, he rails against his duty. He can’t leave his post, but the Captain orders him to go when she catches him harassing the hospital staff with endless calls throughout the night, asking only that he return before sunrise. It’s three quarters of an hour, maybe less if he floors the car he borrowed, weaving through kaiju decimated streets. 

He’s listed as one of your emergency contacts, probably because the rest of your family’s hours away in Osaka, so the doctors fill him in on your condition, even though he’s not family. 

Bones broken, by concrete crushing your body. Right side covered in burns, from a fire spread through the wreckage. Internal bleeding, probably a severe concussion, and they’re not sure your body will withstand the combined damage from all your injuries. 

“Too soon to tell”, the doctors shake their heads. “We’ll keep you updated.” 

Soshiro wants to punch the walls. Instead, he clenches his teeth. “Please do”, he replies tightly. 

There is nothing he can do but go back to base and wait. 

The hospital probably would put him on a blacklist if it weren’t the aftermath of a national emergency considering the way he bombards them every morning and night with calls to check on your status. You go through skin grafts for your burns, and he promptly loses his mind with worry when they tell him you’re on severe antibiotics to fight off the infections. Two nights ago, the doctors called him to say that they’re wheeling you back into surgery, having detected the source of bleeding in your stomach, and after another long sleepless night, all they can tell him is that they hope your condition should stabilise eventually. 

He’s on the verge of raising his voice to tell them to shove their half baked updates up their ass, when he remembers it’s not their fault you’re lying unmoving and broken in a narrow hospital bed. 

(it’s his) 

(he did this to you)

When they finally give him the okay to visit, he rushes to your side late at night with leave from the Captain, who merely reminds him not to break the speed limit. It’s past visiting hours but the nurses know better than to get in his way as he throws open the door to your room. 

You’re hooked up to machines which pump your lungs full of air, bruised and puffy and wholly unrecognisable under bone white bandages that wrap around most of your right side. You’re so still and unmoving that - if not for the beep of the machine registering your heart beat - 

He’s not going to finish that train of thought. He’s not. 

“Hey”, he breathes. He doesn’t dare touch you, lest you shatter. 

He stays by your bedside the entire night, slouched in one of those uncomfortable hospital chairs. “My week’s been awful”, he tells her. “It’s been hell trying to cobble together reports about what happened in the fight with Number 12. Plus, we have to rebuild our division and our base, so everyone’s running on fumes.” 

He talks and talks until the sun rises, and he gets up to go. 

“Don’t sleep for too long”, he says, and adds softly. “Stay safe, please.” 

The next day off he has, he returns, a large bouquet of flowers in tow. Your parents are there, finally able to make the trek from Osaka, almost impossible after the shinkansen schedules were disrupted and the highways unpassable. But they’re here, and though they look at him in askance, they quietly thank him for looking after you.

He wonders what they’ll say if they find out it was him who buried you deep in the ground. He’s too much of a coward to confess this to them when you might not wake up to see them again. 

He can’t quite put his finger on why, but he’s always been sure your mother dislikes him. Her smile, when directed at him, is too tight. She insists on you addressing him as the “young master” instead of his given name, which he prefers, and now, she laments the fact that it’s him who’s come to visit you instead of ‘that lovely Yamamoto-kun who sent those nice flowers’, when the door closes behind him. 

It’s a little petty, but he sends an even bigger bouquet of blooms a few days later, making sure to sign his name on an exceptionally large gift card. 

More information comes in on his fight with Number 12. He flips immediately to the section on civilian casualties, of which there are thankfully fewer than expected, though there’s a brief section on employees trapped in the Izumo Tech compound, of particular note because of its national security significance, though it states that several weapons technicians managed to retrieve a substantial amount of tech (specifically, blades) before the building came down on them. 

His stomach turns. He has to dash to the toilet, the taste of vomit burning acid in his mouth. 

The recruits all mutter why Vice Captain Hoshina’s in such a foul mood, forcing them to run laps for the most minor of infractions during training. He’s rude to the doctors when he calls them at night, claiming they still can’t be certain if you’re going to pull through, and even if you do, they also can’t say for sure that you’ll ever open your eyes again. 

Unable to sleep, he takes his frustration out on the training room. 

“Vice Captain.”

He snaps into a salute. “At ease, it’s after hours”, Mina Ashiro takes a seat beside him. “Staying up late to train?” 

“Yes, ma’am”, he replies. It’s the only thing that keeps his mind clear from worries. His sleep is marred by nightmares, his body unable to relax, anticipating the call from the hospital that he fears will inevitably come. 

“You were just doing your job”, she tells him. 

Despite the dark cloud he’s found himself trapped in this past week, his lips can’t help but quirk up at his Captain knowing exactly what’s on his mind. “I know”, he replies simply. “Still.” 

“Strictly off the record”, Mina says. “I’d behave exactly like you if it were Kafka in that hospital bed.” 

“Pretty sure it’ll take a nuclear bomb to take out Hibino-san but I’ll take your word for it.” 

“Hmm”, Mina hums. She’s a woman of few words, so it’s rare that she seeks him out for a conversation on anything that isn’t work related. “Do you ever wonder if we’re too focused on our jobs?”

“With due respect, Captain”, he replies. “That’s probably how we’ve managed to stay alive.” 

“Yes”, she says, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “But sometimes I think we forget what we do this all for.” 

 “And if I may be so bold”, he ventures. “What do you do this all for?” 

“When I was eight, a kaiju attacked my hometown. It wasn’t very large, now in hindsight, but it was large enough to destroy my childhood home, horrible enough to kill my cat.”

“So you resolved to grow up and be the best sniper the Defense Force had ever seen.” 

Mina chuckles. “I don’t think my eight year old self even knew how to be so ambitious.” Her expression sobers. “No, I just never wanted to see my parents cry again.” 

“It seems you’ve achieved your goal.” 

“Have I?” she asks, pulling at her hair absentmindedly. “I haven’t been back to visit my parents in years. I didn’t even keep in touch with Kafka despite us being close friends who grew up together. Yes, maybe in the grand scheme of things, I’ve kept the wider public safe - but that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve lost years of friendship, I’ve lost time I could’ve spent with the people I love.” 

“And you’re saying I’m the same?” 

Mina’s smile is serene. “It’s for you to decide that.”

She lets him ponder on her words in solitude, closing the door to the training room behind her. 

He still remembers the day he met you. 

You’re hiding behind a pillar, dressed in your kimono the same shade of blue as the hydrangeas that bloom in June. The presence of someone his age watching him spar spurs him on, makes him want to show off everything he’s got and give Sochiro a good fight. He’s convinced that the fight pushed Sochiro hard enough to grab you as a distraction from the fact that he’s actually being challenged by his younger brother. 

He doesn’t care if Sochiro’s bullying ways are directed at him. But when he makes you cry, he intervenes without thinking, even though it results in being beaten black and blue. 

But you look at him with stars in your eyes. “You’re amazing”, you tell him. For the first time in his life, Soshiro Hoshina believes that he is strong. 

It’s a cliche, but it’s easier to bear his older brother’s bullying and teasing if you’re there to spur him on with your cheerful words. You’ve always been in his corner, always happy to make a fuss over him, ooh and aah over every new move he learns, making him feel seen when everyone else’s attention is always focused on Sochiro, his more brilliant, gifted older brother

(to be seen is to be loved) 

You’ve supported him through every rainy day, every snowy day, every day of his life since his childhood, making it your life goal to craft the swords he wields. “I’ll make the sharpest blade so you can go be the best swordsman in the world!” you promised him, and so you have. You took up your family’s craft despite being but a slip of a girl, spending hours in the choking heat to learn a dying craft. You worked with an unerring focus in school, first to get into the country’s top engineering course, then graduating with flying colours to land a job at Izumo Tech, spending years subsisting on cup noodles and energy drinks. 

He��s never once even considered the toll it must’ve taken on you, the sacrifice of any semblance of a social life, the sacrifice of leaving Osaka, the comfortable cocoon of your family and friends to follow him to Tokyo. He’s ashamed to admit that he never gave any of this any thought, never really considered what it was like for you, only taking what you were too happy to give, your attention, your time. Every choice you’ve made, you’ve only made for him.  

And how has he repaid you? 

By running away when you admitted to feeling more than friendship for him. He convinced himself at the time with the excuse that he’s too busy, he really has no space in his life for anything but work and the art of the sword. It is all he’s lived and breathed for his entire life. 

But now - 

Now that he’s on the cusp of losing you, he thinks about the sun in your smile, the steel in your spine. He thinks about how much he admires your work ethic, your talent, your warmth and kindness. He remembers how much your friendship chased away the shadows of his self doubts, how you helped shoulder the burdens of chasing his dreams. 

Every rest day he gets to spend off-base, he chooses to spend it with you. Either at a cafe, which you always let him pick, allowing him to satisfy the cravings of his sweet tooth, or in the cramped apartment you call home, indulging in a fizzy can of beer as he talks your ear off about everything and nothing at once. With you, he can be Soshiro Hoshina without pretence, because there’s nothing about him that you haven’t seen. 

He’d ignored that twinge in his chest when you asked about getting yourself a boyfriend, fighting the urge to blurt out that he doesn’t think there’s a guy out there good enough to deserve you. So much so that he buries his relief when you admit that you’re not actually dating anyone by flippantly downplaying how much you mean to him, giving you instead the impression that you’re only worth as much as your usefulness to him. 

No wonder you’d been avoiding him. He didn’t even give you a chance to lick your wounds in private, cornering you, pressing you until you reveal your feelings for him. He’s so thrown by your confession that he reacts by running and hiding, doesn’t spend the time to unpack how he truly feels, doesn’t spare a thought for how you might feel, having your feelings thrown in your face so cruelly. 

How had he been this stupid? 

Worse yet, it’s his fault you’re fighting for your life in a narrow hospital bed. Collateral damage is unfortunately part and parcel of kaiju extermination, he knows that, but he was having fun swinging his sword, never thinking that he might be the cause of you never opening your eyes again. 

Fuck. 

He doesn’t deserve you, doesn’t deserve the chance to look you in the eye, never mind stand by your side. 

Your mother makes that clear the next time their paths cross that she’s of the same view. She’s stiffly polite, as if too painfully reminded that she has to be cordial to the second son of her husband’s longtime business associate, but after she pointedly asks him to shift his flowers to the side to make room for Yamamoto-san’s potted monstrosity, he goes in with a direct attack.   

“You don’t seem to like me very much.” 

To her credit, she doesn’t try to lie. “I care for my daughter”, she replies. 

“So do I”, he retorts without pause.�� Because he does, even if he’s stupid enough to realise it a decade too late. 

“Hm”, she grunts, her doubt clear. 

“Since I was eight and she was seven”, he says, the words awkward in his mouth because it’s strange to admit how he feels about you to your mother who clearly disapproves of him, but it’s also a relief to put it to words. “I think I’ve always cared.” 

“I don’t think she knows that”, your mother says, the gentlest he’s ever heard her.  

“If she wakes up - ”, he corrects himself immediately, “when she wakes up -”, but even then his voice falters, because it’s been so long that you’ve been still and unmoving in this bed, swaddled in hospital sheets that too closely resemble a shroud. 

By the gods, what if it’s too late -

“When she wakes up”, your mother says without a tremble of uncertainty in her voice, “you should tell her that yourself.” 

He wishes he had an ounce of your mother’s unwavering faith in fate, because weeks later, your room remains colourless, white and sterile. He places yet another bouquet by your bedside, an array of blue and purple hydrangeas, the last of this year’s summer.

“Wake up”, he tells you. “Last chance for us to catch the fireworks festivals and eat shaved ice. I won’t have to steal your ice cream if we go.” 

You don’t move. 

“Your brother’s wedding’s been postponed because everyone’s waiting for you. Better get up soon, cos’ no one wants to get married in the winter.”

The room remains silent. 

The linoleum of the floor is so beige it makes him want to stomp a hole right through it, make it a little less bland and unappealing. He can’t bring himself to nod at the terrified nurse who squeaks at him to leave the room when it’s time to change your dressing. He’s not known to be emotional, but grief claws up his sternum, longing has his throat in a chokehold. 

“When you wake up, I’ve got a question to ask you. Don’t you wanna wake up to find out what it is?” 

He doesn’t know why he expects a response. 

“Stay safe.” A quiet sigh. Seeya soon.” 

It’s almost dawn by the time he pulls into the base.

Rain drums on the roof of the car, the morning a greyish, cloudy blue. He pulls on his combat jacket, the skin at the back of his neck prickling into goosebumps. His phone rings just as he gets out of the seat, thumb swipes right promptly when he sees the hospital’s number light up the screen. 

“Vice Captain Hoshina speaking.” 

“S-sir”, it must be that nervous nurse from earlier in the night. “You asked us to call if there’s any change in the patient’s condition -”

The beat of his heart grows thunderous in his ears. 

“Yes?” 

a/n: *dum dum dummmmm* another cliffhanger!!!

[maevebabyy]

i would like manon gf thoughts next please ☝️☝️

MANON AS UR GF

a/n - i can’t believe it took me so long to write for manon…..

gf! manon who’s love language is words of affirmation. she never fails to shower you with sweet compliments and messages, always reminding you how perfect you are.

gf! manon who leaves you little notes in your bag or on the bathroom mirror because she has an early schedule, telling you how much she loves you and how much she hates that she can’t stay longer.

gf! manon who takes time to celebrate little wins, whether its acing a test or finishing a project, always cheering you on and making you feel special.

gf! manon who enjoys late-night drives, blasting your favourite playlists while being the best passenger princess there is.

“and finally you put me first!” manon sings out excitedly, her head bobbing along to beyoncé, her left hand intertwined with yours as you kept one hand on the wheel. “baby, it’s you!” she turns to look at you, her eyes sparkling, belting her heart out to the chorus, “you’re the one i love! you’re the one i need!”

gf! manon who appreciates the small things, like holding your hand during walks or stealing quick kisses when no one is looking.

gf! manon who wants to being you back to switzerland so bad with her because she loves enjoying the outdoors with you.

“just think about it,” she says softly, a smile tugging at her lips. “the mountains back in switzerland are so pretty. plus, think of all the cute cows!”

gf! manon who enjoys planning surprise dates, whether its a cozy night in playing board games or a trip to a local music café.

gf! manon who has an album dedicated specifically for the both of you saved in her photo gallery. often switching out her lockscreen wallpaper to a photo within the album to keep those memories close.

gf! manon who has a knack for making you laugh, whether it’s her goofy impressions or stupid dad jokes, always knowing how to brighten up your day.

“you know i’m basically a comedian, right?” she’ll tease, grinning.

gf! manon who loves when you play with her hair while you relax together, all cuddled up on her bed.

gf! manon who enjoys reflecting on your relationship. thinking fondly of how far you two have come and how grateful she is for every moment you two spend together.

[86espresso]

💌 roommate!jack pt. 2

part 1. part 3

( ignore me yearning for an ounce of a healthy relationship. I got cheated on my junior year of high school )

absolutely entirely babies you. i’m talking cleaning up after you, feeding you (this is so underrated fr), wiping off your makeup when you get home, forehead pecks before either of you leaves in the morning, packing lunch, always comforting you when you get overwhelmed.

^ is so so in love with the way you scrunch your nose in disgust when you try a new smoothie and automatically hand it over to him, letting him deal with it because you’re so used to him

simple things that come with intertwined lives: communication is always there, but there’s a deeper more important sense of knowing exactly what’s going on with each other without ever communicating.

^ knowing telltale signs of the other when they’re overstimulated, stressed, upset, uneasy, etc. a special kind of love language jack has for you, and that makes you fall hard.

gifts you cds and vinyls of artists you blast in your room

cleaning up bottles with you on New Year’s Day!! after the party he throws at your shared space the previous night, he’s picking up trash and organizing everything back to its place while you wipe down the counters with whatever liquid that was on there. you collapse on the couch together and sleep the whole day, entangled in a mess of limbs but comfortable with eachother

softly knocks on your bedroom door one night, wondering why it was so quiet and sees you slumped over your desk and textbooks, fast asleep. his heart clenches at the sight; you look adorable but he doesn’t like how you overwork yourself and how you were still tense despite your unconscious state. he gently lifts you up from your desk and carries you over to your bed, laying you down. ^but he stops when you yank on the collar of his shirt, slowly opening your eyes. “thank you. stay?” you’ve stayed over in his room a few times but he’s never slept in yours. “sure, sweets.” he’d murmur in a low voice (🤭) and tuck himself in next to you, a safe distance away. ofc you wake up to his arm securely around your waist and it has you internally screeching.

lets out a indignant gasp when you approach him with eyebrow tweezers and tells you to ‘keep that torture device far away from him’ but a couple of pleases and a pout had him like putty in your hands as he begrudgingly accepted. he asks you to do his eyebrows often after that moment because he gets the opportunity to put his hands on your waist and stare at your face without making it weird.

^ also you when you accidentally let slip that you don’t take birth control pills he’s like wtf?? then you show him the implant in your upper arm. he screams, mortified, when he touches it and says “I thought that was for diabetes.”

the fear of telling eachother the strong feelings you both have grows everyday. when you’re put into a forced proximity like that and that person ultimately becomes your safe haven, literally lives with you, you just know there’s so much that could go wrong. you both toe the line carefully, trying not to harm the special bond you’ve grown over the years.

sleepovers in each others rooms !! pillow forts, romcoms on laptops, fingers brushing together when you reach for the popcorn bowl at the same time, huddling together for warmth (dear god when is it going to be my turn)

your first kiss would be slow and sweet. then you pull away breathless from the adrenaline and you look at him as if you don’t believe that just happened and his resolve crumbles. He wraps a strong arm around you body, pulling you close, and tangles the other through your hair, tilting your head. a year or two of pent up frustrations and raw love makes him pull your mouth to his roughly, him immediately going in with his tongue. He’s held you and hugged you before, but never like this. This was so much more passionate and intimate than anything he’d ever experienced.

def talks you through it 🙂‍↕️

his closet is yours!! he goes crazy seeing you in his big shirts and looking like you don’t have anything on underneath

whenever there’s blackouts through the building you both scramble around the place looking for candles with your phone lights. you bump into eachother a few times and there’s an unspoken rule to stick together while the lights are out. nothing but a scented candlelight illuminating your faces.

he declares a deep clean day which ends up in both of you soaked in bubbles after a soap fight

“we should shower together.. remember the water bill last month? :/”

roommates to lovers. goated trope.

i split this into two parts bc tumblr hates me. getting the other one out in a few mins :)

I want to talk about this more !! make it into a little series maybe?? send in what you think pleasee :)

[pedge-page]

Joel Dealing with Sarah: Super Woman, Super Wife

- - - -

Little Sarah having a blast today going to the park then meeting with friends then getting ice cream, just pure summer fun all day with Dad as her chauffeur. Until it's night time and she's in her car seat and suddenly remembers something, looks around desperately, and starts panicking:

She lost her favorite squishmellow.

Starts screaming and crying and kicking her feet, and Joel is freaking out because it's literally the only thing she sleeps with, carries around 24/7, in the mud and in the pool, to bed and to dinner, and if she lost it.... its all hell. And he knows it probably fell out of the car on the road at some point today as she got in and out of the back. The chances of finding it all torn up and squished into the asphalt are slim as is.

You get a frantic 3 calls from Joel. When you pick up, you hear uncontrolled wailing in the background.

"Joel I can't hear you! What's going on?"

"ITS ALL FUCKING HELL BREAKING LOOSE!" He shouts into the receiver, one finger plunged deep into his ear canal while pressing his phone into the other.

"Im coming home! Just wait for me!"

-

You rush through the door, a raucous of fat tears and inconsolable shrieks greeting you. Joel is literally burying Sarah in a mountain or her stuffed animals trying to calm her. He thinks youre gonna run towards them and give her a big hug and do SOMETHING Mommy Magical. Instead, you run upstairs without greeting them.

Joel keeps trying, his ears ringing, ready to just duct tape her mouth shut. Nothing is giving her any peace unless it's her one of a kind, super soft , special, best friend, s--

"SQUISHY!!!"

As Sarah reaches forward, smiling for the first time all afternoon, Joel sees you approaching excitedly, waving her pristine and glorious squishmellow. His daughter grasps it tightly and hugs it with all her might.

"How the hell did you find it?" Joel asks you. He's beyond fucking amazed. His superhuman, super hero, magician of a wife never once failing to deliver. He thinks you should write a book on your powers. "How did you get it so clean??"

As Sarah reunites with her Squishy, you take Joel upstairs to the back of your closet, in a high reach inconspicuous box labeled "for emergencies only". He always assumed it was an extra stash of bandaid, or maybe some special makeup in case you get a random case of acne.

You open the mysterious cover and reveal 10 vacuumed sealed, brand new, unopened squishmellows EXACTLY like the one Sarah has downstairs.

"You thought I just bought one the first time?" You chuckle at Joel's jaw dropped expression, probably marveling at what a fucking genius you are.

Though when you two return downstairs, your heart stops for a moment as Sarah suspiciously eyes her seemingly "rescued" plush from afar. Narrow eyes of distrust on its gleaming perfect unstained, brightly colored body, as if she can smell it's factory newness, false nose, and her scheming parents...

Thankfully, she shrugs and goes back to feeding it her dinner at the table. You and Joel let out a sigh of relief.

[genericpuff]

Public service reminder: I love y'all for your support in what I do here, but (a very gentle but) I want to make it clear that this isn't the way-

Names are censored for obv privacy reasons and I don't want to put any of my own readers on blast because I trust comments like these are made with good intention. I appreciate y'all for loving what I do here and putting it out there for others to read along, but I don't do it for this. As much as Rekindled is indeed a parody redraw of LO that's trying to "fix" a lot of the original comic's issues, at the end of the day it's still just a Tumblr project that I'm doing here for fun and I don't want to see it used as ammunition in the comments sections dedicated specifically to LO (for clarification, this was in the @webtoonofficial announcement post for LO winning its third Eisner).

Whether or not it's "better" than LO is subjective and irrelevant. I obviously can't pretend like I didn't have my own motivations to "fix" what I felt was broken, but the act of "fixing" was for those of us who saw it as broken, not for those who love LO as is.

I also can't reasonably ask anyone to keep their opinions about Rekindled to themselves, it's a piece of work that is publicly available and therefore that will put it under the lens of public opinion, but from me to you, this ain't the way. I host it on Tumblr and DH precisely to keep it out of the main view of the fans/stans, because this work isn't for them, it's for all of you who share my disappointment in the original series. I want to be able to run this space free of any extreme fandom discourse - this is also why you won't see me using general LO tags on Tumblr/IG - but the only way that can happen is if we all play nice and don't let the heat of the discourse get to us. Rest assured, I will always stand by my work and what I do here because I love it and have found my lost joy in what LO used to mean to me through it as well as a community of amazing writers and creators... but prevention is better than the cure and I don't want any of that heat getting thrown back my way through weaponizing of my work with or without my knowing in the first place.

Am I pissed about the comic's third win? Absolutely. And as much as I feel it isn't worth anyone's time or energy to get into bickering matches with the stans in these comment sections, those opinions regarding the comic pre-exist my participation in this fandom and would have, one way or another, hit that boiling point regardless (and it's been wild to watch that comment section go down, I can't lie lmao) But this is not the way. Rekindled is - to me, and hopefully to you, too - a reclaiming of the love and passion people like myself used to have for LO, and a celebration of Greek myth and transformative fiction as a genre, above everything else it stands for or could be interpreted as. It's not a weapon meant to be used in discourse. Let's please do our best to be mindful of that so we can keep having fun in this special little space we've carved for ourselves and not make ourselves into the monsters we're often made out to be just for critically discussing and transforming a piece of media that, in spite of all its flaws, brought us together in the way that it did. Let's keep being the best for each other instead of turning ourselves into the worst over others within this massive fandom who we were never going to agree with in the first place.

Thank you all, much love 💖 Do no harm, take no shit ✊️

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Stress Relief | Katsuki Bakugo x Reader

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Katsuki Bakugo x AFAB Reader 💋

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Romance, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: A quick unedited one shot where the reader is stressed and Katsuki decides to help her de-stress :) Nothing complicated here, just sexy vibes.

CW: MDNI!, A18+, kissing, romance, sexual tension, spicy scenes, fingering, lemon, Smut, Dirty Talk, Hurt/Comfort

It’s dark in your dorm when Katsuki Bakugo slips through the unlocked door. You’re starting to fall asleep when you see the door open a crack, the light from the hallway illuminating his pale features with its glow.

You’re exhausted and not in the mood to talk to him, not after the day you had. You glare at him from your bed as he quietly shuts the door behind you.

“Come on, babe. Don’t give me that look.” He groans, padding over to your bed and slipping beneath the covers beside you. “You know that I can’t take it easy on you when we spar. You don’t get special treatment in class just because you’re my girlfriend.”

You turn away from him to face the wall, ignoring him. Not only had Katsuki hit you with an over the top, uncalled for special move in training – it was a move you had never seen before. You had thought the two of you shared absolutely everything. You were almost at the end of your third year at UA, chasing graduation. For the past year and a half, you two had been daydreaming about starting a hero agency together. If Katsuki had hid an insane special move from you only to bring it out in a simple training match…what else was he hiding?

“I know that look.” He says as he wraps his arms around you. He’s so strong and sturdy you can’t help but melt into him. “I didn’t tell you about the move because I wanted it to be a surprise. I thought you would be more excited about it, honestly. Come on, babe. Don’t be mad.”

You sigh, your whole body sore from where he walloped you with his overenthusiastic explosion earlier that day. Finally, you acknowledge him. “I’ve showed you all of my special moves – even the secret ones. And yet…you kept this insane move a secret even from me. Sometimes I don’t think you trust me.”

He’s quiet for a moment, rolling your words around in his mind. When he does speak, there’s a tinge of hurt in his voice. A vulnerability that only a few people will ever hear form Katsuki Bakugo. “Babe…I didn’t realize I was keeping it a secret. I was really excited to show you. I don’t want you to feel like I don’t trust you. You’re the only person who knows absolutely all of me. You gotta believe that.” He squeezes his arms lightly around you, reinforcing the words.

You huff with frustration. “Yeah, I know, okay? I’m just really achy and pissed off that you decided to debut some flashy move while fighting me. Why couldn’t you unleash it on Kaminari or Kirishima?”

He buries his face in the back of your neck. “I was tryin’ to impress ya, is all.”

“I’d be a lot more impressed if you didn’t blast the hell out of me during a training exercise.” You try to scoot away from him and end up stretching out your muscles at an odd angle. You cry out softly at the pain.

“Did I hurt ya that bad?” He says, concern lacing his words. “You’re made of such tough stuff…but maybe I took things a little too far in the ring.” His hands run across your body soothingly, trying to rub out any aches and pains that he may have caused during your sparring.

“It’s fine. Honestly, it was a really stressful day and your new ‘special move’ was just the icing on top of the cake. I just need it to be the weekend already.” You sigh out. The past few weeks have been so stressful at school and at your work study. You’re tired and overworked, and you could really just use a break. Katsuki unleashing the full force of his explosion hell on you in class was definitely not something you were mentally or physically prepared for – all you want to do now is rest.

“I know you’ve been real stressed lately. Sorry if I added to it.” He mumbles into your shoulder, leaving light kisses along your skin. You shiver when you feel the tip of his tongue dart out to trace a shape on the sensitive skin of your clavicle.

“Hey…you know what we haven’t done in a while?” His voice suddenly brightens and his hand snakes down to grip your stomach lightly over your shirt. “I can think of a great way to give you a good dose of stress relief.” He smooths his hand down the plane of your stomach and finds the hem of your shirt, dipping underneath the thin fabric so that he can fan out his fingers across your delicate skin. “Let me take your stress away with my fingertips, sweetheart.” He begins to run his fingers back and forth under the waistband of your sweatpants. The sensual touch causes a sparking sensation to gather down in your core. Everywhere he touches, goose bumps pop up on your skin.

“…Kats.” You say, warningly. The walls of the dorm are notoriously thin, and you don’t want to be on the receiving end of one of Mr. Aizawa’s lectures about safe sex, creating a culture of respect, the dorm rules, etc.

“Just keep quiet. I’ll make it quick as I can. No one ever has to know.” He leans in and starts to plant slow, open mouthed kisses along your neck, his fingers dipping lower and into dangerous territory. He brings the palm of his hand to rest right above your panties and slowly starts to circle your clit from over the delicate cotton fabric.

“Oh.” You breathe out, your body coming back to life as Katsuki touches you. He’s always so direct, so sure of himself. His approach to sex is reflective of that – don’t beat around the bush, just get to the heart of the pleasure.

“Yeah?” He whispers wetly before nipping at your earlobe. “You like when I touch you here?”

“Duh.” You hiss through your teeth. Katsuki pulls his hand away from your pussy and you almost cry out at the loss of contact. He brings his ring and middle fingers to his mouth and sucks, coating them in a thick sheen of saliva. He then moves to touch you again, this time sliding his hand beneath your panties for better access. When his warm, wet fingers hit your clit – your body absolutely lights up. All aches and pains are gone – its just you, Katsuki, and his magical fingers.

He starts out slow, circling around your clit until your grinding your butt back into him. He loves this – spooning you while he gets you off. He loves a good power dynamic, and this is no exception. In this position, Katsuki has most of the control. He likes that you know it, too.

He circles your clit lazily for a while, letting you get a feel for it. As you start to buck into him, he decides to speed things up, dipping his fingers low so he can gather some slick from your entrance before sliding them back up to work more on your clit. Within seconds you’re begging for him to get inside you, and he obliges – slipping a single digit into you slowly while giving your clit the attention it deserves with his thumb. He lets you hump his hand, finding the angles that work best with your body and causing you to see stars.

It’s when he slips a second finger into you that you start to get close. You feel his cock harden against the curve of your ass, eager to please. He starts leaving a trail of hot hickies along your shoulder – sucking in your sensitive skin between his sharp teeth and then kissing over marks he leaves behind. The combination of sensations is far too much, and you feel yourself get closer and closer to falling off the edge. The way Katsuki's fingers are slipping, sliding, stretching...it's far too much. You want to groan in pleasure, but you keep your mouth shut as best you can.

His fingers pump in and out of you with practiced skill, and you clap a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from moaning out his name for all of the dorm to hear.

“Kats!” You say in a muffled voice from behind your hand. “Kats, I’m close.”

That’s all he needs to hear. He brings his fingers out of you to focus on your clit for a bit, drawing circles and triangles and figure eights and whatever other fuckin’ shapes he knows how to make around your sensitive bundle of nerves until your legs are shaking. Then, when he feels he’s gotten you hot and bothered enough, he slides two fingers deep into your cunt, flicking them in an attempt to hit your G spot.

And holy shit he does.

Katsuki hits that delicious spongy spot deep inside you and your body jerks with pleasure. He smirks at the reaction, proud of himself for figuring you out so quickly. He hits the spot again and again and again until your pussy tenses up and falls into one of the finest orgasms you’ve had in your life. You cum so easily, your whole body shaking as he takes you apart with nothing but his fingertips. The waves of the orgasm hit you full force, your body tingling and jerking in time with his targeted movements. He lets you ride out your orgasm, mumbling quiet praise into your ear as you grind through your high.

“That’s my good girl, so perfect for me. Cumming on my fingertips so nicely. Fuck babe. Fuck you’re gorgeous. Keep cumming for me please.”

His words are just as sexy as his hand down your pants, and you can’t believe how lucky you are to have landed someone as hot as Katsuki.

When you finally finish, he slides his hand out of your panties and pulls you close. He plants a hundred kisses across your neck and shoulder, happy to have been of service. You lay in silence for a moment – you catching your breath, him glowing with pride at a job well done.

“Did I manage to take away some of your stress?” He whispers cheekily. The damn idiot is so proud of himself, as always.

“S-sure.” You try to sound calm, cool and collected but the break in your voice is enough. Katsuki knows that he achieved exactly what he set out to do. You melt back into his chest and start to doze. What a day it's been! You're too tired to speak anymore, but you manage to squeak out: “Thanks babe. Love you.”

“Love ya, too.” He says, settling in under the covers and planting a last kiss on your back. “But I’m still not taking it easy on ya during training.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Is the last thing you say before drifting off into a sound sleep.

[elioslover]

Ray of Sunshine - Grumpy!Harry x Reader.

Premise: Harry has a tendency to be moody, but what happens when he meets his match? this one's especially for @harrysonlylover 💞

Other Writing

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: She/her pronouns. 3rd person.

⛅️

Harry’s car skids recklessly into the almost-full parking lot, dismissing the concept of carefulness in favour of confronting the driver behind the wheel of a sunshine-yellow ‘60s VW beetle, who had pulled into the lot moments before- which should have never happened because it had been behind him, to begin with. 

As if his mood hadn’t been less than pleasant for the past month, what really set him over the edge was the lack of apology from the said sunshine yellow driver, who only honked his way and proceeded to turn into the parking lot as they seemed to have always intended. 

With agitation, Harry neatly swerves into the nearest parking space, barely managing to stay in the lines as he reaches over and snatches his work satchel from the passenger seat, slinging it over his shoulder as he slides from the seat and exits his vehicle. 

In hot pursuit, his long legs help him catch up to the sunshine car just in time for the driver to exit, her back turned to him, leaning in through the open door to collect her items. 

By the time she turns around and lazily swings the door shut Harry is peering over her, wearing a black hoodie, brows furrowed, his body tense. 

She recognises him in an instant- it’s hard not to remember the face of a man who is scowling so sinfully as he hit the hooter for an unnecessary amount of time- all because he couldn't be bothered to indicate. 

“Did you not see my blinker?” He grumbles. 

“Clearly not.” She torts, her face still and expressionless. 

“You’re a moron. It was on.” Each word is more annunciated than the last. 

“It wasn’t.” She shrugs, slinging the straps of her bag over her shoulder. 

“You clearly need glasses.” Harry huffs in disbelief. 

“Maybe if you weren’t blasting your music so loud you would have heard that it wasn’t on.” 

Harry feels a wave of shame wash over him at the idea of her seeing him getting a little too into his playlist, in turn, his chest simmers with defensiveness and deflection, 

“Your driving fucking sucks…” He says, getting no response only encourages him to rant further, “And your car looks like it’s hanging on by its last thread, no wonder you’re a bad driver.” He gestures to her car with a look of distaste, “It’s a piece of junk.”

She adores her car, it is not only special but holds the heart of many fond times, adventures, people, and sometimes just conversation. The car sure has been through the wringer- in age alone- but she can hardly afford another, and she certainly doesn't want one. 

So, she tries not to find offence in this grumpy strangers declaration of her ‘piece of junk’ and does her best to take a deep breath before responding in concession- though her agitation has morphed into sarcasm and it seeps through your sentences,

“Okay, sorry Mister Mercedes. Guess I’ll be more careful next time.”

Harry didn't know what he wanted her to say, but it certainly wasn’t anything along those lines. So with an eye roll and the reminder that he’s close to being late for work, Harry starts to walk away and points out matter-of-factly, 

“Yeah fuckin right, you’re an accident waiting to happen.” 

“Asshole.”

“I heard that.” 

He turns on his heels to see her as calm as ever, an amused sparkle in her eyes, a smirk playing at her lips,

“What ya gonna do? Chew me out some more?”

Harry stared seethingly at the rude and reckless driver who couldn't care less about his mood, her focus was on gathering all the necessary items for whatever task she so desperately had to complete that she was willing to almost kill him. 

He meanly mutters, “Have a fantastic day," before walking off for good, dreading work and in a worse mood than ever. 

⛅️

Harry has an hour for lunch, grateful for the assortment of cafes and restaurants scattered within the city square, along with plenty of boutiques, art deco, and antiques to name a few. 

Most days, he is likely to grab a sandwich or coffee- or both- from the restaurant directly across from his office block, but that would be the third time this week and Harry can’t fathom facing any of the staff in fear of becoming a ‘regular.’ 

He meanders around the centre and stakes out the array of food options displayed in each glass window. 

Just when he thinks he may settle on some early afternoon sushi, Harry spots a bright object from the corner of his vision, his head snapping with such haste he must have strained a muscle. 

Parked directly in front of a shoe boutique is his notorious enemy; the sunshine car. And leaning back against a pillar just outside of the store is the bad driver from behind the wheel. She is halfway through smoking a cigarette, her other hand occupied by scrolling through her phone. 

As if his scowl was so strong that it was sent straight to her, causing her to sense his presence, she looked up from her phone and smiled mischievously at the realization of her new enemy's arrival. 

She tucks her phone into the pocket of her black slacks, taking a puff of her ciggie, a cloud of smoke mixing in with her greeting,  

“Ah, Mister Mercedes.” 

Harry nears but notices his frustration thicken with each step into her space. He crosses his arms across his chest, 

“I recognised your car.” 

“Oh, that old piece of junk?” She asks with nonchalance. 

“Yes.”

“Bothered you so much that you decided to come over here?” Her pout is melting with pure mischief. 

“I’m sorry, okay.” Harry concedes, but it doesn't come off as anything but frustrated so his tone softens in volume and intention, “It was a rough day.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” His brows furrow.

“Yeah, okay.” 

“Fucking insufferable.” He mutters.

His frustration slips over like that of water on a duck, her mood has been calm all day, and his attitude wasn’t likely to spoil it- right? With another puff, she ponders aloud, 

“Is there anything else I can help you with?”

There is a moment where Harry almost ponders the purity of his intentions, but dismisses it and chooses to interrogate her- he is far too invested in finding out more about his enemy,

“Do you work here?” 

“Obviously.” She shrugs with the softest of scoffs. 

“Hope you’re a better employee than a driver.” 

Now he’s starting to get under her skin. this is her hour for lunch, why can’t it be spent in peace? She does her damndest to maintain a cool demeanour as she asks again,

“Why are you still here?” 

“To apologize, Jesus.” Harry doesn't mean to snap, but neither of them is surprised when he does. His juxtaposition of words and tone render his sorry useless- they both know it.

He tries to reason with her, explaining his frustration, “And all you said was okay.”

She peers over at him incredulously, repeatedly intrigued by the attitude of this man who has gone out of his way to make an enemy out of her, 

“What do you want me to say,” her tone facetious and fiery, “I forgive you, we all have bad days, sometimes we take it out on strangers to avoid hurting those close to us, you’re probably actually a great guy?” 

“I- yes.” 

“Well now that I’ve said it, you can go on your way.” 

Harry feels stunned like she just let him walk out into the snow knowing that there was soon to be a blizzard, he can’t reason with her- nor does he care to at this point, 

“Jesus. I take back my apology.” He grumbles, hands raised in defeat, his head shaking as he scoffs sourly, “Such a mature little thing, huh?” 

She ignores everything but the last sentence, slowly enjoying the opportunities he’s giving her to indulge in going out of her way to increase his already extreme grumpiness. 

Once more, Harry curses out under his breath and with zero intent to say another word, begins to walk away from her. 

Pulling the phone from her pocket, ready to continue her prior activities, she chuckles and calls over his shoulder,

“Bye, Mister Mercedes.” 

⛅️

It has likely been less than a week since their last interaction and Harry’s enemy has decided to treat herself to a proper lunch- sitting down at an actual table in an actual restaurant for a change. 

However, she underestimated her fitness levels and loosely accounted for a good portion of the time her lunch break consisted of. By the time she arrived and got back to her own store, there would be less than twenty minutes left to sit at a table. 

Takeout would have to do, and once she has placed her order, she waits off to the side of the main counter, waiting to both pay and be gifted with grub. 

The food comes quicker than predicted and with excitement she thinks can't be topped, she reaches for her wallet, but the hostess stops her in her tracks and gestures to one of the tables scattered throughout the eatery and informs her, 

“The man at table four already paid for your order.”

It’s her sworn enemy, packing up the contents of his belongings before taking a final sip of his nearly-empty Americano. Harry doesn’t acknowledge her.

“What’s with this guy?” She ponders aloud before making the swift and frustrated decision to go over to his table.

He is already standing up to leave, still not looking her way, and with a bough of confusion, she finally speaks up, 

“What’s this about?” 

“Strange way of saying thank you, Sunshine.” 

Harry frowns and she doesn't enjoy the way it makes her feel, giddy and begging for more opportunities to bother him, 

“Thank you.”

“Whatever. You’re still a pest.” He grumbles, almost bumping his shoulder into her own as he slips past and hastily exits the restaurant.

⛅️

Harry walks into her store with a better attitude than he has in a long time. Things were starting to look up, but one little thing was still bothering him, and she was staring right at him with a scowl that gave him a run for his money. 

Anyhow, he’s here for a reason; an attempt to smooth over the rocky start that was more than likely his fault. And he hopes she’ll take his apology this time. 

Harry approaches, and with each step, he gets a better view of her distinct frown, lips turned down, eyes quickly turning to loathsome slits. She is no longer leaning across the front counter with laxation, her body stiffening to attention, her hand pressed firmly to her hip. 

She couldn’t fathom anything could have worsened her week, and here he was, presumably planning on sucking away whatever remained of her soul for his own sick gain. With a chest simmering with chaos, she asks with incredulity, 

“Seriously?” 

Harry blinks back, a little awestruck, ignoring the pang of disappointment that greets his heart when she seems to confirm her distaste for his presence, he embraces his mildly peppy mood and remarks playfully, 

“Well hello there, Sunshine.” 

“This is not the time.” She snaps.  

“Aw, is Miss Ray-of-Sunlight in a mood today?” He coos. 

“Mmph.” 

She huffs, hardly meeting his eyes, and Harry quite likes how well she emulates his usually grumpy demeanour, he wonders how similar they might be, decides to find out, 

“What happened?” He meets her at the counter, lazily resting his body against the counter courtesy of the elbow he balances on. He leans a tad nearer, a tantalizing smile playing at his lips as he teases,

“Did you almost crash into someone with your junkyard on wheels?” 

“I’d rather drive this than parade about like an absolute dick in an overpriced German car.” Her tone drips with what Harry feels is both disappointment and disgust. 

He feels frozen under her words like his Sunshine had just revealed herself to be Medusa, a sly Succubus. 

Now what does he do? His confidence sits on the floor with his converse, his sentences have turned to slosh in his skull and she is staring at him with such distaste that Harry certainly won’t be saying a word. 

Stunned to silence, he leans away from her, settling a safe space between their bodies as his features morph from friendly to confused. This only seems to increase her frustration and she fiery snaps, 

“Why won't you stop fucking pestering me?”

Harry subconsciously steps back, straightening up and stacking his defensiveness around his skin like a shield. He has no power to prevent a petty eye roll, 

“Oh, please. This is no treat for me either, Sunshine.”

“Are you kidding?” She gets ready to leave him standing alone in the middle of her own store. 

Harry panics and blurts, “Hear me out!” It comes off more desperate than he would have liked. But she has stopped and addresses him with crossed arms, waiting for his next words. Harry is in autopilot mode, more nonsense spilling from his lips, “I- want to make it up to you?” 

“Why, so you can clear your conscience?” She scoffs with sass. 

“Sure, whatever you say, smart mouth.” Harry has regressed and reflects her unpleasant temperament.

“Go away.” 

Their gazes are glued by the calamity of their conversation, tied together with frustration that feels impossible to unwind. 

Harry just wants to tell her why he’s here in the first place, but what’s the point? His presence is evidently worsening her day. 

And though the soft curiosity in him wants to know why she seems so down, Harry’s focus is returning to the ruin of his afternoon. So, in true fashion, he flails his arms in disappointed defeat and turns his back on her with a wonderful version of goodbye,

“Fine. Fuck it. Have a miserable one, Sunshine.” 

“Likewise, dickhead.” She dismisses, grateful his mood is now as miserable as her own. 

⛅️

When Harry finally exits the glass entrance to the bottom floor, relief rushing over him now that work is over, he’s hardly paying any attention to anything or anyone, already scanning his phone for notifications. But then he sees his cloudy sunshine leaning against a wall, arms crossed, no car in sight. 

He ponders pretending to not have noticed- walked away and gone about his eve. That would never happen though, he wants- needs to see her again- his stomach stays unsettled the deeper their discourse divulged. 

He heads over to her with unnecessary haste, scolding himself as he comes to a halt in front of her. She has been aware of him from the minute he exited the building, already prepared for his arrival. 

His body waits expectantly as she eyes him up and down, a cheeky glint in her eyes and when Harry understands that she is in no rush to speak up, his undying impatience rears its head, 

“What do you want?” 

“For you to stop being so grumpy.” She shrugs.

“Rich coming from you.” He mutters, but when she attempts to turn her back on him as they had done so many times before, more words rush out, “Okay, okay. What’s up?”

“I’ve decided to hear you out.” 

“Gee, how kind of you.” 

“I cannot imagine how anyone deals with you on a daily basis.” 

Harry doesn’t take it as an insult, he is fueled forward by the fact that she might be willing to listen,

“I’m actually very likeable.” 

“Do you want me to hear you out or not?” 

He thinks for a moment, leaving her to ponder what in her right mind caused her to take a walk to see him in the first place. 

But, he wants to do this as… right as their attitudes might approve of, so he bravely wraps his palm atop her own, gently gesturing for her to follow and she allows him to drag her along. He encourages, 

“C’mon.” 

“What?” She asks but proceeds to let him guide her. 

“It’s almost six, let’s go eat.” He informs, one step ahead of her as they take the short trip to his regular restaurant

“That is the last thing I want to do with you.” She grumbles. 

“I’ll pay.” He soothes. 

“Fine.” 

Harry keeps her hand cradled in his own, even as they enter the restaurant and he asks the waiter for a table for two. In fact, he only lets go to pull out a chair for her. 

He asks what drink she prefers and if she’d be open to splitting a plate of fries with him. 

But she has been eyeing him with suspicion, and once it’s clear that this won’t waver until she confronts it, the waiter leaves and allows her to question, 

“Why are you being nicer than usual?” 

“Can you stop being snarky for even a second?” He nearly snaps. 

“Ah, Mister Mercedes is back.” She nods as if it were what she had expected all along. 

“No,- Jesus fuck.” Harry feels desperate again, scooching his chair forward, his arms folded across the table, leaning in to ensure her unwavering attention,

 “I- almost got into another accident the day we met.” He sighs out with shame, ready to be met with warranted ridicule. Her expression has already turned to one of bemusement. But he’s not done yet,

“Turns out my left blinker bulb burned out... so...”

She tilts back and finally relaxes into her chair, a gleeful grin spreading to her sparkling eyes, 

“Sweet vindication.” 

“Brat.”

“Dick.” 

Harry has little confidence to spare, now that his confession is out in the open, he is in the dark. 

Her demeanour has slightly diverted swells of amusement and satisfaction dancing along the tabletop.

“Just wanted to try and make it up to you.” He shrugs earnestly, unfortunately having to rely on her newfound information to dictate her next reaction. 

“Make it up to me?” 

He can’t convince himself to meet her eyes, his lowering to study the rings donning his fingers, fearful of humiliation, but not enough to waste the opportunity sitting across from him, looking overjoyed with sweet satisfaction, and far too endearing for him to resist,

“Mm. I didn’t want you to think I was just a grump but…” Her face seems to soften and he feels it safe to continue, “Been tryna ask you out on a date. since.” 

“A date?” 

“Yeah, a date.” 

“Are you crazy?” Her features return to one of confusion, bewildered at his seemingly sudden turnaround, “I don’t like you.”

“Well, I like you.”

“Forgive me for finding that hard to believe.” 

It’s true- that he likes you, and that it’s hard to believe. He likes the surprise shifting his statement. 

“I do.” He nods as if it’s been obvious from the start, “And your attitude, and your silly yellow car.” He admits with bashful fondness, “Guess I hoped we could start over?” 

“Sunshine.” She says. 

“Hm?”

He ponders aloud and it’s her turn to lean forward, stretching her arms across the table. Her gaze has returned to one of sternness, 

“My car. Her name is Sunshine.” She allows Harry a moment to soak up the coincidental information. “She is a piece of junk, but I love her, so shut up about my baby.”

Harry’s head tilts back when a bough of laughter suddenly leaves his lips- amused and even more attracted than he thought possible, he nods along in agreement and chuckles, “Fair enough.” 

There is an elongated pause- at least Harry perceives it to be- as she thinks over the oddly pleasurable past few weeks of finding herself in the presence of a grumpy but playful man. 

So, she gives him one last good look over before deciding to openly give in, 

“You have been a consistent pain in my ass.” He pouts cutely, and she goes on, “Guess we’ll have to find out if there’s more to you.” 

He smiles at that, his head and heart finally settling at the promise of better nights of sleep to follow. Moreso, he’d like to find out more about this so-called Sunshine who seems to simultaneously rile him up and calm him down with ease, 

“‘M name’s Harry, by the way.” He extends a hand.

“Y/n.” Her palm meets his eagerly.

-

Here we go children, this one was really fun to write, I hope it meets your expectations! - Em. xo 💞 this one's especially for @harrysonlylover 💞

[exhaslo]

So mutual feelings (romantic)

Can you do like a Miguel x reader where its reader day off and she decides she wants to take a warm shower and listen to music so she puts on headphones and listen to pop or Spanish music or whatever(I was listening to follow the leader by Jlo that’s where this idea came from) and Miguel tries to call her because he needs help with some paperwork (not really he just won’t admit he misses her) so Miguel ends up going to her universe and to her apartment where he sees her in a towel dancing to music and singing along and finds it adorable

That’s the basic idea you can make it have a spicy end or just fluff , it can swing both ways , you can decide that

Smut is always fun, but I do believe we could use some more fluff

With sexual tension hehehehehehehehehehe

Warning: Minors DNI, Sexual tension, fluff, sexual thoughts, language

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

Some days were just exhausting. The only way you could find any relief from your daily struggles was a nice warm shower. The feeling of washing away your sweat, pain and sorrow was always comforting. A feeling you could never tire of.

Today was your day off from both the Spider Society and super hero work. All you had to do was go to your daily job, which also decided to drain you. If only you could have a day off from everything all together. Those were rare.

The moment you stepped into your small apartment was a god sent. You dropped your bag, locked the door and threw your shoes to the side. It was time for your shower.

"I'm going to enjoy this,"

-------

Miguel felt his eyes drop as he wrote on his fifth report for the day. It had been a LONG day. The amount of anomalies that appeared, the amount of fuck ups he had to fix, and the reports? Miguel either needed a drink or a good fuck.

Grunting at the thought of you, Miguel wondered how you were enjoying your day off. Miguel won't ever admit it, but he always missed you when you weren't working.

No one in the Spider Society knew, but the two of you were dating. Miguel always claimed that you were a special case and spoiled you rotten, but he wanted to be careful. But, sometimes it was hard for him to keep the secret.

Stopping his work, Miguel started to imagine you on your back with his dick rammed inside you. Your moans filling his brain as he thought of you under him, begging for more. Miguel grunted to his thoughts, wanting to feel you.

"I wonder what she's doing?"

Glancing at his watch, Miguel thought about paying you a visit. He deserved a little RNR after how today was. Surely, you wouldn't mind the visit either, right?

Using the dimension portal, Miguel decided to head to your world. He needed to hold you, even for just a moment.

As Miguel entered your apartment, he couldn't help but hear music blasting. Following the sound of music, Miguel resisted a chuckle as he stopped in front of the bathroom. Quietly, he opened the door and saw your shadow dancing to the music.

Miguel kept quiet as he watched you, smiling in awe towards you. You were so adorable. Oh, how Miguel wanted to fuck you right now, praising your beauty.

But he could wait.

You deserved this after all. You worked so hard, but got stressed so easily. Miguel always listened when you would complain about needed a hot shower. It was your go-to place to unwind and relax. He could understand.

Watching your hips move to the music, Miguel had to resist a groan. Oh how he wanted to join you and help you destress.

But, again, he could wait.

--------

Inhaling deeply, you cooed to the comfort you were enjoying. A nice long shower was what you needed. The music was distracting you from everything as you took your time. Your body finally relaxing from the stress and strain of the week.

"Mhm, I don't wanna leave~" You whined softly.

Washing the soap off your body, you started to regret leaving the comfort of your shower. As you stroked your body, you started to think of Miguel.

You loved your secret boyfriend. He was so kind to you and honestly one of the best things about being a Spider-Woman. Miguel was always a charmer. That and the sex with him was so intense and good that you could drool.

Shaking your head from the dirty thoughts, you knew that Miguel was busy. Finishing your shower, you thought about calling him. Just his presence alone made you feel better.

"Mhm, I think I'll order out," You told yourself.

As you stepped out of the shower, you squeaked as Miguel leaned against your wall with a smirk. Your face turned bright red as you covered yourself with a towel,

"M-Miguel?! Pervert." You said with a shy smile. Miguel chuckled as he approached you,

"Sorry, amor (love), I didn't want to disturb you." He said with a chuckle, pulling you into his embrace, "I just wanted to see you."

"Mhm, me too,"

Enjoying Miguel's embrace, you gently pushed him out of the bathroom so you could change. Miguel just complied and said that he would order some food for you.

As you finished, you stepped out of the bathroom and smiled as Miguel wore his back up clothes. The two of you getting comfortable as you cuddled on the couch.

"I wouldn't have mind you staying in the towel," Miguel hummed. You crawled onto his lap,

"Oh? And what would you have done if I did?"

"Hm, dunno. Depends on what you want me to do."

Damn, Miguel was good at getting you hot. Honestly, this would also be a good way to destress. Stroking his chest, you leaned forward to kiss him. Your hips slowly grinding against him before pulling away from his lips.

"A lot, but I think our food is here." You whispered as the door bell rang. Miguel gripped your waist,

"Ah, you torment me,"

You giggled as Miguel groaned in response. Shaking your ass in front of him on purpose. You went to the door, grabbing the food, but the moment you closed the door, Miguel grabbed you. He put the food aside as he pinned you against the door.

"I don't think you relaxed enough. Still seem a little stressed."

"Me or you?" Miguel grunted as he kissed your neck,

"You, for sure."

Wrapping your arms around Miguel's neck, you laughed as your boyfriend complained. Honestly, you needed that shower, but having Miguel here was a plus. Today was a great day...

And it was only getting better.

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

Sorry it was short!!! Hope you enjoyed~

[sundrop-writes]

if George walked in on you changing...

Word Count: 990

Harry Potter Masterlist

Warnings: this is set during Deathly Hallows when everyone is preparing for Bill and Fleur's wedding; the reader and George are not in a relationship, but they are friends with a spark who have been flirty with each other for a long time; the reader is described as afab and is mentioned to be wearing a dress (changing into one); the general tone of this is steamy with no explicit smut; George stares at the reader while she is undressed but the reader likes it; mentions of George's injury (his ear being blasted off); mentions of sex; general flirtiness and sexual tension.

A/N: I saw a bunch of tiktoks using the prompt 'how the Harry Potter characters would react to accidentally walking in on you changing' and idk why that was such a thing on tiktok, but it made me think of this. Let me know if you want to see this trope done with other characters and I'll probably do it because it was really fun. Also I am trying out this new formatting style because this is such a short fic. Anyway, hope you guys like it!

...

“Oi! Is it time for-?” 

You heard the very distinct voice and felt a swish of air as the door was thrown open before you could shout at him to go away. 

Instinctively, you held the fabric of your dress against your body to cover yourself as much as possible. But it seemed that you didn’t have much luck. When you looked over your shoulder toward the doorway, you realised that you were almost entirely exposed - your back and your underwear completely on display, the makeshift cover only working to hide your breasts from prying eyes. 

You had been caught changing from one of your dress options into the other - absolutely indecisive as you were. Ginny had warned you that the lock on her bedroom door was ‘crap’ because everything in the house was so old and worn down. But you had been satisfied when it clicked, thinking that it was secure enough for you to strip down and get into your outfit for the wedding. 

But you were in so much of a rush that you didn’t notice the door drifting out of its frame due to the loose nature of the ‘lock’ - you were too busy thinking about everything you had to do that day, how you still had to put some finishing touches on the wedding cake and help Hermione with her hair. 

And now you were standing there - wearing nothing but your lacy, revealing underwear, barely covering your front with the fabric of your dress pressed against you while George stood in the doorway with his hand poised on the doorknob, staring you down entirely unabashed. He had not an ounce of shame as his eyes hungrily drank you in, and the longer he looked at you, the more attractive it made you feel. 

“Sorry.” George said quietly, not taking his eyes off you for a moment. 

Of course, he didn’t seem so sorry. 

“I thought Mum was in here. She - uh - she mentioned wanting to change my bandages before tonight.” He added on, gesturing toward the thick wad of cotton that was held to the side of his head with a headband made out of gauze. 

As much as Fred had joked about it - George was still definitely the better looking twin, even down one ear. 

Maybe it was because you had always thought that, a distinct attraction toward George always bubbling under the surface whenever you were around him. 

It was likely something about his quiet confidence. The fact that Fred was louder, always flirted with girls boldly even if he wasn’t necessarily interested in them. George was more reserved, and he could speak volumes with a single look and have you blushing with a few simple words. And from what you knew, he had only ever been that way with you. So feeling special in his eyes did add a lot to your attraction toward him. 

You loved the fact that he didn’t hide his attraction toward you or get shy when you flirted with him. Especially not in this moment, when his eyes raked over every detail of you, not trying in the slightest to hide his intentions as his lustful gaze looked you over. You became heated as you watched his eyes drink you in - from the side of your breast being accidentally squeezed by your arms while holding your dress against your body; to the gentle, natural curves of your side and the plushness of your stomach peeking out. 

His gaze definitely lingered around your ass. He almost couldn’t believe the fact that you were wearing black, lacy, see-through knickers - just like how he had imagined you in every single fantasy of his. (But this was so much better than a fantasy somehow. You were so much better.) 

“You could close the door anytime now.” You said, your voice light and cordial. 

You weren’t mad at him for staring. If anything, you were heavily resisting the urge to invite him in and push him down on the bed. (Which would have been intensely rude because it wasn’t even your bed, so that was one reason not to.) On top of the fact that anything you cooked up in your dirty mind would have massively derailed the packed, busy schedule for the day. You still had to help Hermione get ready and then go downstairs to help with some flower arrangements - unfortunately, fucking George Weasley’s brains out was not on that schedule. 

“Lacy knickers for a wedding?” He questioned, the usual laughter budding through his voice. “You aren’t… expecting anything, are you?” 

“My knickers are none of your business, George.” You told him with a chuckle. 

“Hmm. S’pose I’d like to make ‘em my business.” He replied, sticking his tongue out the corner of his mouth in a way that made you want to bite it - if simply to spite his cockiness. 

“Get out,” You chuckled quietly, knowing that you needed to get ready, that you didn’t have time to indulge any of this. “Go on, go!” 

To emphasise the point, you balled up the fabric of your dress and sharply threw it at him. He let out a bright laugh when it hit him in the middle of the chest and then fell at his feet, leaving you completely exposed to him. Of course, George then began ogling your tits with no more grace than a common caveman. 

“George!” You squealed, laughter evident in your voice, making no effort to cover yourself. 

You liked the attention too much - why try to hide from it? 

“Right, going,” He said, finally closing the door behind him with a wink. 

A warmth curled over you, and it made you flustered and dizzy as you moved to change into the outfit you had officially decided upon. You knew that it had very little to do with the August weather and everything to do with your attraction to that Weasley that had been plaguing you for a long time now.

[bouquet-of-flow3rs]

!Pairing: Jay x reader!

Genre: fluff

Warnings: suggestive themes, reader loves dressing up.

Synopsis: You and Jay get ready for date night. On your 3rd anniversary.

[A/n: I wrote this at 2 in the morning during soft hours but I think its adorable!]

It's date night.

You adore date night, and not just because you get to go out on cute little dates no. But because you get all dolled up! Oh and also because you get to see your handsome boyfriend, but mostly because you get to wear cute little dresses and pretty shoes. Is that a very stereotypical thing to do? Yes, but you don't care. Especially not when you get to wear a stunning white, satin dress.

Today is a special day for you and Jay because you see it's your 3-year anniversary, and you and he plan to dine at one of the fanciest restaurants in all of Seoul, which happens to be run by one of Jay's father's friends. This man is a masterful chef with incredible kitchen skills. You've heard stories from Jay's mother that this is the man who taught Jay what he knows about cooking and your man is an amazing cook, you should know he loves to cook for you, you've tried cooking but whenever you do it ends with chaos, whether that be a burnt mean that is unrecognizable, or starting a tiny fire. After many incidents, Jay banned you from the kitchen and has practically become your personal chef.

But back to date night you and Jay are getting ready in your shared room, him being in the ensuite bathroom taking a shower, while you sat at your vanity doing your makeup, you wanted your dress and jewelry to be the focus point of your look for the night so you settled with a minimal look with a hint of glitter for eyeshadow, after completing your look it was time for you to pick a lip color, you weren't sure which of your collection to go with, should you chose a luxury brand or perhaps a drugstore one? You decided to go with one of your many luxury branded lipsticks, truthfully you didn't wear a lot from your extensive collection you only bought them because you liked the packaging or received them as gifts courtesy of your wonderful boyfriend, you decided to pick a color that is similar to your natural lip shade but makes your lips appear more juicy, before applying it you dig through all of your lip liners and find one to compliment it well, after linking your lips you finally apply the lipstick and as you stare at the masterpiece on your face you are happy with the shade you chose.

Once done with the makeup look you move onto your hair, you can hear the water shut off and the shower curtain being moved. You focus back onto yourself ignoring the blaring sound of the blow-dryer being turned on as well as the music Jay is blasting from your bathroom's speakers. You decide to add slight curls to your [H/l] hair but keep them relatively lose, you too have your own music playing and the the song currently playing distracts you as you pretend your curling iron is a microphone to sing along to the catchy lyrics of Beabadoobea's ‘Glue Song’ A song that has always reminded you and your boyfriend, as you finish curling the first layer you are thankful to hear the blow-dryer turn off and your boyfriend cut off his music before exiting the bathroom, from your vanities mirror you see hot steam escape into your room, you place your curling iron onto its hot plate turning around to see your boyfriend enter your room in one a towel that is hung low on his lips accompanied by a towel wrapped around his neck, he still has drops of water rolling down his torso as he walks past you and over to your shared wardrobe opening the left side which is his, at seeing him you immediately begin to wolf whistle making him chuckle and shake his head, “Damn, babe you're looking good.” You admire him as he slips on a pair of dress pants, after sliding those on he once again walks past you but not before placing a delicate kiss on the top of your head, “Thank you gorgeous.” He smirks out watching your flushed face, as you eye him from the reflection.

Once your hair is done you make sure to shake out the curls so they are more natural looking, you pull out a hand mirror from a drawer to make sure the back of your hair looks okay, and once you see it does you blow a kiss yourself in the mirror before standing from your vanity and making your way to the wardrobe to pull out your new white, satin dress.

You take it out of its dress bag and unzip it before taking it off of the hanger, you slip into it but can't quite reach the back of it to zip yourself up, “Jay, baby can you help zip me up?” You call out for him and he emerges from the bathroom with a black button-up, dress pants buckled with a fancy belt. And his hair is freshly styled. 

“Oh my god, how did I get so lucky..” You breathe out gawking at the man in front of you. Jay takes small steps towards you admiring all the effort you put into yourself for him, truthfully you are beautiful to him no matter what but seeing you in a stunning white dress makes him dream of your future together. “Oh dove, you look stunning.” He remarks gazing at you tenderly. “Thank you, my love.” You smile dreamily.

 “Can you please help zip me up?” You question turning around and moving your hair out of the way. He trails his hands down your exposed back making you shiver at his touch and making you can't help but want more. Eventually, his hands trail down to where your zipper is located as he slowly drags it up your dress, he uses one hand to zip it up the other leaving longing touches across your exposed neck and shoulder area before eventually sliding down to hold your waist, once he's zipped you up he leaves open mouth kisses along your neck, you can feel his tongue brush against you with ever kiss he places, you hum at the feeling before spinning around and wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands drop to capture your waist “as much as I'd love to continue this, I'd really love some dinner.”

You express playfully leaving kiss marks all over his face “Anything for you my [Y/n].” He responds placing a kiss to the tip of your nose, making your heart do backflips. “Happy anniversary Jay.” You whisper leaning your forehead against his “Happy anniversary my love.”

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[circle-of-mushrooms]

The Secret That We Hide | Mammon x Angel! Reader

Summary: Once a month, you find an excuse to sneak away from Heaven to visit your beloved in Hell. As an archangel, your relationship with the King of Greed would be deemed sacrilegious and, therefore, must be a secret. CW: Mammon. GN!Reader | Nudity | Non-Sexual Intimacy | Fluff | Secret Relationship Word Count: 5.3K

The third of every month had always meant something very dear to you.

An entire twenty-four hours were dedicated to someone very special, someone you could rarely visit. Seeing the pages turn on the calendar was a chrysalis, and by the third day of a new month, the fluttering wings in your stomach bounced off every wall. As an archangel, you could not see him often as it would be deemed inappropriate by those around you, especially with a status such as yours. You were meant to be a shining example to the virtuous. However, what Heaven did not know was sure not to hurt them.

Masterful hands knitted in the air. Glitters trickled from your fingertips like fairy dust as you picked apart the fabric of time and space’s seams, unstitching a tear that freed it to glow and thrum within the air. Past its threshold was the sight of house rooftops easily dwarfed by the surrounding factories. An oppressive heat blasted through the portal - much unlike Heaven’s cool air that chilled the skin your clothes did not cover - and seemed to try to push you away, almost desperately. Yet your ambitions did not waver. Your wings unfurled, stretching to their fullest, and your arms pulled forward with your palms pressed together.

Sense had been abandoned long before you were diving into Hell.

The seven rings could not reach the same pearlescent clouds Heaven could, but one could still find shapes in how the smoke stacks blew plumes of turquoise smog into the air, the same ones you flew past as you were heading for the ground. Had you not been so accustomed to the air, you would have been choked by the rancid miasma that forced its way to your lungs. The lower you were, the worse it got. Above, there was a space to breathe, but in the heart of the storm, you were suffocating. 

Much of the floor was shrouded by the smoke, but a glint caught your eye, and you knew where to go. Many came to Greed to fund wealthy lifestyles and live in lavish homes. Yet they all paled compared to the mansion with golden ornaments decorating the roof that guided you to where you had to go. Tall gates protected the home from intruders, yet you were free to fly over them straight toward the front entrance.

The beating of your wings had alerted the four guards, two on either side of the door. Trained to kill a threat on sight, not a single one hesitated to point their weapons and cock the rifle, only to lower them when met with your face. 

Your hands were wrung together as you nodded a greeting to each of them, but none returned. They all only stared. Like a shawl, your feathers covered you - hiding you from their leering gazes, yet you knew their mouths were sewn shut. Grand double doors were finally pulled open by two maids who looked upon you with familiarity and ushered you inside.

You whispered your thanks for them taking your coat and asked one how her husband was doing - he had been sick last month - and the other if she was fairing well in college. They smiled like it had been the first time in a while, and their lips were cracking from a stiff position. There was always a light in their eyes when they spoke to you, though you wondered if it was the reflection of your halo.

Every visit, they offered to guide you to where you had to go, but you knew these halls well. Gilded statues and marble pillars mapped your journey - flaunts of wealth you could never dream of having because you were taught it was wrong. You tried to pace yourself down the hallway and not let your excitement get the better of you.

When met with another set of doors, they were guarded by a new pair of maids. One sputtered upon seeing you, and the other gave her a look. The first one must be new. The new ones were never prepared to see you, even when given ample warning. 

Bowing your head, they could not comprehend your respect. Instead of an answer, they opened the doors.

The room was dark, with an abyss on each wall that made it seem endlessly large, and only a few light sources were omitted from the round table in the middle of it all. There was a steel candelabra with five flickering wicks and the blue light of an open phone - both illuminating the broad figure of the embodiment of all things selfish, the never-satisfied desire to want more – Greed. 

You were shaking and overwrought.

Engrossed in whatever he was reading, Mammon hadn’t noticed your presence and continued to scroll through endless threads of people praising a new movie he had funded. Despite how tight it felt, you managed to clear your throat to catch his attention. Immediately, he appeared offended to be interrupted and was ready to scream at the fool, only for the chartreuse eyes to soften and grow.

“Aha! There’s my shinin’ star! Sure know how to keep a guy waiting, don’t cha babe?” Four wonderful arms stretched to the side, and his chair screeched against the ground when he stood. Whatever space his eyes did not take up, his grin did. “What are you doing standing around all doe-eyed for? C’mere!” 

With his simple permission, the legs of a newborn deer turned to one of a wildcat as you sprinted toward him. You would have been faster with your wings. He made you forget you had those.

You threw yourself into his body, pressing the side of your face against his plush stomach as you tried to wrap your arms around him as much as you could. You wished you could melt into him and become one. But Mammon would still say he didn’t get enough of you. 

Barking out a laugh, a hand fell on top of your head to pet your hair. “Hah! You missed me that much?”

Turning your head, your nose buried into the swell of his stomach and picked up on his smell. Musky. He sprayed something expensive. But underneath it all, you can still smell him. Muffled, you gave him what he wanted to hear. “Always. Being away from you feels like forever.”

You didn’t need to see his grin. You knew it was there. 

Two hands held you by the waist, lifting you so that you were met with his chest. That way, all four arms could compress you against him, and his soft chin would brush your hair. You managed to reach for his neck, nuzzling into it and wishing he’d rid himself of his cap so that you could feel him and him alone. Bells on the liliripes jingled, drawing your attention to the golden heart shapes that made your own sing. Mammon loved to theme his attire for every occasion, and it was a sight when he subtly incorporated you into his outfits.

Neither of you remembered who pulled away first, but it was like prying a nail out of wood.

Parts of your outfit were gently tugged as he soaked the sight of you in and engraved it into his memory. One hand ghosted along a wing, which made your back tense and chest rise, and another brushed over your cheek with a gentle thumb. “Look at ya, all dolled up for me. I could eat you up just like this.” 

You laughed softly as you took hold of the wrist closest to your face, burying yourself into his palm before pressing a gentle kiss against it. “But then you’d have no room for dinner and definitely not dessert.” 

It was then your turn to admire your lover. His sage suit was incredibly fitting, decked in black and yellow patterns with white accents to break it up. Mammon claimed he felt ‘naked’ without his jester cap, and you never requested he remove it for a date. The quirky accessory was what made Mammon, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. “Seems like I’m not the only one who dressed up tonight. This look suits you perfectly, hon.”

Peering down at himself, he remet your eyes with a proud look. “Yeh? You like? Should count yourself lucky, ain’t no one seen me in this suit before.” And he looked prouder when he winked. “Though no one’s seen me without it either.” 

Hell was hot, but barely an excuse for the heat that rose to your cheeks. Mammon had noticed and cackled, drinking up how easily you became embarrassed. “My lil’ angel’s so cute!” All of his hands except for one pulled away then. The remaining one was pressed on your back and led you to the seat opposite his, and two spare hands pulled it out. The fourth made a circled gesture toward it. 

“My, what a gentleman,” you mused pleasantly and sat on the firm, velvety cushions upon the chair - a little boost to help with your height difference. 

Mammon circled back around to his seat and pulled himself closer to the table. “What can I say? If chivalry’s dead, then I yanked that fucker’s heart out and gave it a jumpstart so it could have a second coming!” A slight crackle of green light sparked from a pointed finger to emphasise his joke. 

The table had already been set for the two of you. More cutlery than you intended to use was positioned in their traditionally allocated spaces with a ceramic plate already placed before you. A satin napkin that you spread across your lap was initially folded neatly on it. The wine glasses were already filled, no doubt with something expensive, and the bottle was kept nearby for the many refills you were sure Mammon would indulge in. You don’t even think you’ve ever seen him drunk, let alone tipsy.

“I’m glad you made it, babe. Had me worried you weren’t going to show! Course, that was stupid.” Mammon intertwined two hands together and used them to cradle his chin as he leaned forward. “How could ya ever stay away from me?” 

“With a great deal of resistance, that’s for certain.” The two of you always humoured each other, and while you weren’t by any means a stage performer, Mammon insisted he always had a laugh with you around. Apparently, that was a hard standard to meet. “Once a month is never enough. I heard about the Princess Morningstar’s efforts of redeeming sinners to have them return to Heaven. What if I enlisted you for her program so you could be reformed and come back with me one day?” You teased him.

“Go up there where it’s a crime to want more than you’ve given?” An unimpressed brow rose before he waved off the mere idea of passing the pearly gates. “PASS! ’S not my style, Doll, you know that. Besides, all them angels are boring. Can’t take a fucking joke! Do one skit about a guy getting his head blown off and whaddya hear? Crickets! And what would I even sell up there?” Mammon threw to arms up. “They’re too strict to mass produce sugary goods or some pointless doohickey that some dumb cunt buys just cause the internet’s telling ’em to!” 

He pointed to the sky with two hands and his other two arms crossed over to form an ‘X.’ “Never! I’d hate every last one of ’em, too. Well.” Leaning back in, Mammon looked almost love-sick with his hooded eyes and curled smile. “‘Sides from you, of course.” 

Pretending to be a blushing maiden, you covered your cheeks and batted your lashes at him. “Oh, you don’t mean that,” you joked. 

The proximity between you both was short-lived as he returned to leaning back, but his flirtations never ceased. “You know damn well I do, doll.”

“But you’re right. Heaven is no place for a man like you.” The sigh from your lips was heavy and defeated. If only he could come home with you, but Heaven did not know this is where you went once a month. If asked, you proclaimed that you were going to Earth to observe the humans as it was your duty as an archangel to look over them. Since Lucifer and Lilith, angels were forbidden from forming relationships with humans. But there were no official rules against an angel and a demon. However, you knew the reactions to your relationship would not be kind, and you both agreed to keep it a secret until the time was right. If there ever was such a time. “Not that I’d have you any other way, of course.”

That was the secret behind your relationship. Not once did either of you try to make the other change. You might sometimes ask Mammon to have more sympathy toward his workers, and Mammon would try to entice you to be more greedy, but the idea of one of you changing scared the other. 

“Works the other way around though, don’t it? You’re not built to walk around Hell all by yourself.” He wasn’t wrong… “If I ever let you out there, you’d get jumped on in a second! Lots of sick fucks would want you all to themselves. And who knows what depraved or fucked up shit they’d do! That’s why you always have to be by my side.” Confident in his conclusion, he didn’t account for the fact you would never want to be away from him regardless.

You cooed sweetly at his unhidden feelings, how he never shied from admitting how much he wanted you around. “Hell would very quickly become Heaven if I was made to be with you every second, Mammon.”

And you were blatant with your affections, too. It was impossible to hide how besotted you were for a capitalistic clown. You swore you could see his ego grow with each compliment you fed him, but the rare occasion when a pale green hue painted the white furs of his face made it entirely worth it.

The feel-good atmosphere shifted when Mammon clapped, making a resounding sound that echoed off the walls and slightly startled you. Once more, the doors opened, and imps of all sizes came hurdling in with carts and trays packed with food. And they were only the starters! 

Mammon very often indulged in cheap yet filling foods. Nuggets, wings, fries, burgers– All drenched in grease and salt to elevate the flavour and ease of cooking. But who was to say he couldn’t enjoy something more dignified? Nothing showed off his wallet more than being able to afford caviar when the ordinary demon struggled to afford fish. 

An assortment of hors d’ouevres were set down, and you quickly became spoiled for choice. While your hand glided from one plate to another, unsure of what to pick at first, Mammon lifted a plate of salmon rolls and picked one off. 

“Humans gave things like these a fancy name. French call it amuse-bouche, or some shit,” he began to explain, adding emphasis to the new word with a tone that suggested he found it to be ridiculous. One eye squinted while the wider one inspected the small roll. “Suppoused to mean ‘amuses the mouth,’ but look-it! How’s something so small meant to do anything for me?”

The roll was then tossed up into the air. Throwing his head back, Mammon opened his mouth to catch the morsel of food in his hungry maw. After giving him a small cheer and applause, he then lifted the plate to his mouth and tilted it downward so all the other rolls fell into his mouth at once, and he chewed away.

Looking over to you, he then realised his mistake. “Aw crap–” His words were muffled with food remaining in his mouth. “Didn’t ask if you wanted one.” 

As was expected for the King of Greed. But as you did every time, you shook your head. “I didn’t one one anyways. Enjoy!” And even if you did want one, you knew what you were getting into being with him. 

To make up for it, he offered you another plate of something tastier, and once he got the hint that you loved it - your tell was the delighted hum and lifting brows - he urged you to take at least five more.

“Alright! Well, did I get to tell ya about my new star clowns yet? You’d love ’em! Surprisingly funny for women…”

And that was how the rest of dinner would go. The two of you drank wine, feasting until your stomachs nearly popped and catching up on all that could not be shared over the course of a month. You two would joke, laugh, gasp, and sigh, wishing the dinner could last forever.

                                            · · ─────── 💰─────── · ·

       After dinner, Mammon had scooped you into his upper set of arms with such a speed that you worried there had been something wrong. But you broke into giggles when you realised he didn’t want to waste a single second of your twenty-four hours together. Money could buy Mammon everything except for time; otherwise, he’d have it frozen so you would never leave. 

You were carried like a newlywed bride into his ensuite bathroom, the two of you settling down from a joke you had made and had only gotten funnier the second time it was said. As was all of his rooms, the place was grand. The size of it was bigger than an average bedroom, with two sinks, wide mirrors and warm, fresh towels folded. You noticed two placed closer to the bathtub, one much larger than the other. 

The bathtub was almost like a small pool, as it had to accommodate a towering man who surpassed average heights. Nothing about Mammon was average, truthfully. When your feet made contact with the ground again, you bounded toward the tub and dipped your hand into the water. Still hot! You watched as the water rippled as you waved your hand through it, allowing yourself to grow accustomed to the heat before submerging yourself. 

“Hurry up then, before it gets cold!”

Turning your head to the side, you watched as Mammon dropped the last of his clothes to the floor and blushed at the sight of him. Without his jester cap, there was nothing to hide the white tufts of hair upon his head that stuck up a little from being hidden under the accessory for so long. And now you were free to admire his plush body, each curve and dip tempting you to push him backwards into the bedroom so that you could explore them with your hands and eyes, but you contained yourself. Angels were good at that. 

The water displaced when Mammon lowered himself in, swaying and spilling over the sides of the acrylic tub and creating puddles on the floor. A clawed hand beckoned you forward, and you began to rid yourself of your clothes. They dropped with an unceremonious fwump as you stood bare in front of him. Unlike with the guards, there was no reason to hide from him. Your wings folded behind you neatly, and without shame, you stepped inside. He was undoubtedly appreciative of the view, especially when he reached over to smack your rear, and you squeaked.

At first, you sat opposite him, allowing the hot water to meet your muscles and ease the aches from work. A sigh disappeared into the steam, and that was how the two of you sat for a few moments. The silence was comforting with his presence. It only broke when his desire for you became so strong it was palpable.

Lifting yourself, you moved over to him, finding your reserved space between his legs. The lower set of his arms pulled you up against his body, and your hands planted on his broad, soft chest while your head rested over his heart. You could hear it beating and thought it was like thunder. 

Mammon covered you with idle ministrations. Gentle strokes brushed your wet feathers, and from the feeling, you could tell he was setting a few loose ones in place. At the same time, shapes were being traced into the centre of your back. Initially, they were letters. First, his name was written, and then there were crude words you would have scoffed at on any other day. Then, his finger grew lazier, and he began to draw shapes and mindless patterns.

Amid something so pleasant and domestic, your mind dared to wander to a darker place. Something hung on the tip of your tongue, a question that burned to be asked. You feared ruining the moment yet couldn’t stop yourself with your lips parted.

“What if we’re doing the wrong thing?” You dreaded his response. Tonight was going so well. Why did you have to ask?

You’re surprised when you’re humoured with a laugh that melded with a scoff. The rise of his stomach made you lift and lower as well. “If? Doll, tell me what’s right about this?” Mammon didn’t seem to fear the question as you did. Instead, he embraced it as he looked to you for an answer.

Unable to look at him, your hands curled into his fur, fingers winnowing into the tresses flattened by water. “Nothing, in the conventional sense, I suppose. If people knew about us, they’d riot and think we’re both disgraces to our kind.” Balling your fingers into a fist, you held on to him as if he was going to be taken away from you. “Doesn’t that count for something”?

“Why should it?” The Sin huffed, continuing his attentive affections on your wings and back regardless of the subject. “When you’re with me, does it feel wrong?”

You didn’t even need to consider your answer. “Never. It never feels wrong. But when I walk away from you, sometimes I think I should be running. Not because I want to…”

Finishing your words, he knew. “But ’cause you’re scared.” 

Pain pricked in your lip when you bit down on it. The guilt inside you couldn’t be washed away by the water. It felt like you were betraying him by having such complex emotions. Things were meant to be simple between lovers, you thought, yet what the two of you had was the furthest thing from. With your eyes still glued to the wall, you whispered, “Are you angry?”

Even if you didn’t see it, he shook his head. “Nah, doll. Look at me. I’m MAMMON. No one wants you with me ’cause they think I’ll hurt ya. They’re scared of what I might do and what I can do. And you should be fucking scared. You’d be an idiot not to be. But I’d never hurt you.”

“I know.” You told him confidently. “Truth be told, I know deep down that I never want to leave.”

The rhythmic dripping of the tap marked the seconds that passed by. “So why should you? Ditch fuckin’ Snoozeville, and come live here with me.” The water rippled when he lifted an upper arm from your back, extending it to the far distance. “I could give you everything you could ever want and more. There won’t be a day in Hell where you’ll need anything.”

Heaven could give you that. Heaven couldn’t give you Mammon. The same arm moved so he could cup your chin, bringing your face to look at him. It might startle the average person to look at someone so sincerely and softly, but you knew his look well. “Could even make things more official.” Another hand moved, this time intertwining with one of your own and lifting it upward so you could see it. “Wouldn’t this hand look so good with a ring on it? Diamond, emerald, topaz, whatever you want. Name it, and I’ll give it to ya.”

Your heart fluttered at the thought of marriage, and you giggled. “All I want is you, Mam.”

What he said next made him sound hurt. “So why don’t you ever stay?”

And then, it broke. Your smile fell, and you couldn’t meet his gaze. Even without pupils, you felt it when he was looking at you. “I’m..” Your chest felt heavy as your heart weighed it down. “I’m just not ready. Leaving it all behind, it’s just– What if something bad happens to me?” You squeezed his hand. “What if something happens to you? I could never forgive myself.”

Mammon had the choice to argue with you. He could have insisted he’d be safe and that he would protect you, or Mammon could have called you foolish and worrying over nothing. But instead, he kept such thoughts reserved because the truth is he couldn’t promise you that. He unlocked your fingers and brought your knuckles closer so his lips could gently brush over them. “I’ll wait a bit longer for you, but I gotta warn you.” He licked the top row of his teeth, the sharp fangs glinting in the light, the corners of his mouth quirked upward. “I’m not a patient man. Can’t promise I’ll let you go every time, lil’ butterfly. Might catch you in my webbing one day, and then you’re all mine, like it or not.”

The threat did not scare you. You sighed dreamily, wishing the Sin would do it now. “How can you want me so much when I’m not a jewel or any kind of treasure?”

Again, he scoffed and would have rolled his pupils if he could. “You angels think Greed is all about money.”

Surprised by the admonishment, you cocked your head. “Is it not?”

“Hah! Let me teach you something, babe. Greed is all about taking what you want when you want.” His lower arms brushed along your back, tracing down to your rear - to which he stopped to squeeze lightly - before landing them on your thighs. “The only thing stopping me from having you all to myself is you.”

Amused, Mammon then tacked on his own question. “Besides. Who says you ain’t a treasure? Definitely one to me.”

The effects of his flattery never wore off, and the words never became stale. Each bit of praise had you beaming and revelling. Tutting, you clicked your tongue, playfully scolding the king. “You’re too much of a flirt, Mammon. What will I do with you?” 

Mammon grinned and brought himself forward from his laying position, and you would have slid down his body if not for his hold on you. “I could think of one or two things.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you knew he loved it when you made the first move. It reaffirmed that you wanted him as much as he wanted you, and it was a display of you acting on your desires. Nothing was more delicious than an angel wanting something they should not have, a forbidden love, and taking it for themselves.

Bringing your lips together was dangerous. Mammon was intoxicating. Even though you kissed him first, he was far too controlling to let you take any lead. He kissed you like he was drinking the sweetest nectar from your tongue and asked for no permission when his own searched for more. Your angelic status meant nothing when it came to how he loved you. Mammon didn’t treat you like something that could break. His claws dug into your soft flesh and left no part of your body unventured. 

You had been right earlier. This was wrong. Deep down, you knew it. No angel could ever serve two masters; they would always have to hold on to one and hate the other. You could not love God and Mammon. But as you pressed your chest against him, sharing your body’s warmth and allowing him to feel each part of you, it was clear your choice had been made long ago.

The thought you would have to let go of him at some point was torture. Your hands roamed every inch of his body that you could reach, knowing you couldn’t have him forever, so you’d have to memorise it all for your lonely nights without him. 

Oxygen had been the thing to pull you apart. Your lips were wet and swollen, and you laughed as you fell into Mammon’s body, burying your nose into his neck. “You’re a terrible influence.”

Snickering, Mammon hugged you close while licking his lips to chase after the lasting taste of you. “Don’t ya just love me?”

“More than you could ever know.”

His tone then shifted, and he became more energised. “C’mon, lets get you all soaped up n’ smelling good! Water’s aboutta get cold.”

A chorus of giggles filled the bathroom as you were turned by your shoulders. From the corner of your eye, you spotted his fancy bottles. All of his products were just that - his. He had no intent on sharing the luxurious shampoos that kept his fur pristine white and as soft as a baby lamb. But beside the bottles were the ones for you. Even in the little ways, he was making space for you. 

Soapy suds formed in your hair, and you lavished in the way he gently scratched your scalp and, later, your back. You performed the same for him, showering him - literally and figuratively - with love as you tended to the fur on his head. At one point, he scooped up a pile of bubbles, and you blew them into the air so you both could see who could pop the most. 

Mammon was the first out of the bath. Once patting himself down with his large towel, he had it wrapped around his waist and encouraged you to get out. The fluffy towel meant for you was picked up, and he took the honour of enveloping it around you.

For the next twenty minutes, you two carried out your nightly routines. Yours might have differed from his, yet you two stood together and spoke through everything. Now and then, you would catch him watching you as you brushed your hair or cleaned your face with a look that admired everything you did. Many could try, but no one would look at you the way he did.

The best thing about Mammon’s bedroom was his large bed that was covered with silk sheets and pillowcases. Above it was an intricate, green web, for the nights he preferred to sleep in something different ( –you think it’s an unspoken insect instinct ), but that wouldn’t be where you rested tonight. 

Settling into your side of the bed, you didn’t have much time to appreciate the fabrics or the way you sunk into the mattress before you were pulled in by four arms. Mammon was on his side, forcing you on yours so you were pressed against him. An intimate side of him that he never let others know about, as cute as it was. “Sometimes I wonder if you just bring me here to be your personal teddy bear,” you laughed quietly.

“Yeh, I do,” he chuckled back, “among other things.” 

Throwing an arm over him, you found a position that was best for you both and nuzzled into his chest. The two of you closed your eyes, and you were prepared to fall into a deep sleep. Until Mammon broke the silence.

“You’re still going to be here when I wake up. Right?” In his whisper, you could hear the vulnerability he had been biting back tonight. It wasn’t only you who felt deeply about this relationship. You didn’t open your eyes. Instead, you gave him an honest answer as you reassuringly rubbed whatever part of him you could reach.

“I will. I promise.” 

That had been enough for him this time, and you whispered three words that were only meant for him, and he whispered them back.

Rather than saying anything else, you felt a kiss pressed upon your forehead and listened for his breathing as it began to slow and become more rhythmic. It wouldn’t have taken you long to follow him before you dreamed of a world where you two could be together.

a/n: unrealistic asf, if mammon told me to fall from heaven i'd nose dive.

[cxffecoupx]

all i want for christmas

boo seungkwan + christmas music blasting at all times wc: 697 warnings: seungkwan being absolutely intolerable with his singing (not necessarily a warning tho), made in a rush, not proofread author's notes: i wrote it this morning pls forgive me if it's not good i tried my best😭 i still hope you like it (even just a lil) winter wonderland masterlist

it all started the day after halloween.

[november 1]

you wake up to the radio playing in the living room.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas Everywhere you go Take a look at the five and ten, it's glistening once again With candy canes and silver lanes that glow....

sleep still looms in your head, but the sunlight streaming in through the windows, the pots and spoons rattling from the kitchen and the loud song playing all quickly drive away any remainders of slumber. you sigh and get up dejectedly.

stumbling into the kitchen, you see a very joyful seungkwan dancing around in the kitchen, hands moving animatedly as he sings along with the song. you'd have turned off that loud thing minutes ago if it weren't for him singing, so you reduce the volume and wait for him to notice. his head whips towards you.

"yn! you're up!" he beams.

"halloween was just yesterday; the dead are still lurking around, and you're playing christmas songs?"

"it's all for getting into the spirit of the holidays, babe. that's why i'm playing 'its beginning to look a lot like christmas'; it's not christmas yet, but we're getting there."

you'd want to fight, but then you realise you two share the same braincell because why else does his logic start to make sense to you?

so you just stay there, at your makeshift dining table (that's also your workspace), watching him belting out notes that could honestly rival mariah carey while making pancakes that ended up being too salty.

[november 23]

you've now reached the stage where seungkwan speaks with christmas songs.

you're driving to seungcheol's house for jihoon's birthday party, and you realise your mistake halfway: seungkwan has the aux cord and this is the eighth christmas song playing.

What a bright time, it's the right time To rock the night away Jingle bell time is a swell time To go glidin' in a one horse sleigh...

"kwannie... can we please play a normal pop song now? i will actually lose my mind if i hear one more bell jingling," you tell him.

he lets out a dramatic sigh. "what sin must i have done in my past life, to deserve such betrayal?"

you roll your eyes, but can't help letting out chuckle.

"i dedicate this next and final song to my partner that does not appreciate the holidays with me."

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart But the very next day, you gave it away This year, to save me from tears I'll give it to someone special.

seungkwan starts singing in a way that would make anyone think he's going through his fourth divorce. but you know better; you know all his dramatics that only make you scoff in amuse when the first thing he utters after meeting his friends (while they were discussing his christmas movie list) is:

"my partner doesn't love me like i thought they do guys. i'm in love with someone who doesn't appreciate my flair."

[december 6]

the gradual decline of music in your house ever since that last conversation suddenly became suffocating when you noticed it. you meant it as a joke; he knew it was a joke; and yet, no matter how annoying you found it, you noticed how the approaching christmas didn't feel like it without your boyfriend competing against the original artists of the songs.

so when you see him shuffling around the house with a pout on his face while 'normal' music plays, you discreetly try to change the song.

I don't want a lot for Christmas There is just one thing I need...

seungkwan pops his head out of the room like a toddler who heard candy packets opening. he keeps watching as you attempt to sing the song, voice cracking and scratching more often than not. when the song reaches the chorus, you look to him, and he reacts like a deer caught in the headlights. you point towards him and gesture him to come closer, holding your hand out in a fist to mimic a mic and urging him to sing.

"i thought you hated christmas songs..." he mumbles.

"this is december, baby. it's officially christmas season," you scream over the music. he gives a shy smile.

"besides, i don't want a lot for christmas, other than watching you sing," you say and give him a little smooch on the lips.

he blushes for a moment before holding the mic (your hand) and singing at the top of his voice.

...Santa, won't you bring me the one I really need? Won't you please bring my baby to me?

all is well in the world again, you think.

as seungkwan eases into his element, all you can do is admire from afar. you might not be the biggest fan of christmas (not when seungkwan exists), but Santa gave you an early x'mas present, and you're forever grateful for it.

prompt by @novelbear divider by @adornedwithlight