#he has one eyebrow because the other one is the same color as the rest of his fur

[coffeeghoulie]

“Wanna practice?/You’ll have to teach me” with Swiss/Aeon. Particularly Aeon being a bit more eager than Swiss realized for the kiss prompts

i giggled when i got this prompt because it's so damn cute. god they're so good.

prompts from this list

divider by @ghuleh-recs <3

Swiss listens to the junebugs sing, eyes fluttering shut as he bites down into a blackberry. The dock is sunwarm under him, his feet trailing through the much cooler water, pant legs rolled up so they don't get wet. All and all, one of his favorite ways to spend a summer day with no responsibilities.

But what makes it better than normal is Aeon tucked against his side, lilac fingertips stained darker with juice as they grab a few berries from the bowl in his lap. The two of them had wandered through the forest surrounding the Abbey for the last hour, gathering enough fruit for an afternoon snack. And when the sun had gotten too hot, sweat soaking through their shirts, they'd retreated to the lake hidden in the middle of the woods to feast on their bounty.

Aeon's foot splashes through the water a little louder than they intended, legs dangling off the dock. Their boots and socks rest together in a pile on the shore. "You were right," they mumble through a mouthful of fruit. "This is so good."

Swiss grins, turning to glance at them. Their lips are stained ruddy violet, and his probably aren't faring any better. He ruffles their hair, and Aeon leans a little further into him. "Told you so."

They huff, rolling their eyes as they glance up to him, swallowing with a gulp. Swiss chuffs, grinning even wider as their mismatched eyes drop from his gaze to his mouth. "Oh, buggy," he teases, arm slung around their shoulders. "I know what you want."

Aeon's tail pats against the dock with a nervous rhythm. A blush spills over their cheeks, the exact same color the berry juice has stained their fingers and lips. "You're so good at kissing, and I'm. I'm not so much. I want to learn. I wanna kiss, well, the others, but I don't know really what I'm doing," they ramble. "I mean, I wanna kiss you too, you were my first and you're really good and I want to be good."

Swiss arches an eyebrow. Remembers the hotel the night after they'd given him their first kiss. The way they'd curled up together in a queen bed and done nothing but kiss until they'd both fallen asleep. He remembers the way they'd begged him to do it in Los Angeles. Waited for them to be confident enough to initiate themself.

But he's in love with Aeon, hasn't been able to leave their side since the end of tour. He grins, kind and easy. "Well, I see one way to make sure that happens," he says, slowly, like he's pondering it. Aeon perks up. "You wanna practice?"

They grin, even as that berry colored blush spreads on their cheeks, making the scar running over their eye stand out. "I mean, yeah," they say, crooked fangs on full display with the size of their smile. "You'll have to teach me. You're very good."

Swiss puts a hand over his chest, his tail curling around their waist teasingly. "Oh, of course I'll teach you, buggy. Gimme a kiss so I can see where I can help you improve."

The next thing Swiss knows is his breath leaving his lungs as his back collides with the dock. Aeon's, lightning fast, straddled his lap and surged up to kiss him. The force of it, the surprise, had let them shove him back with momentum. He only just manages to set the bowl of blackberries onto the dock next to him before they're strewn out with the sheer force of Aeon launching themself at him.

Swiss's eyes go wide as their mouths collide. His hands curl in the back of their shirt, their own cupping the sides of his face. He groans as the shock leaves him. He kisses back, letting them lead.

For all their apprehension about their skill, Aeon's a surprisingly good kisser. They shift over him, settling a little more comfortably above his hips.

When they pull back to breath, white and violet eyes wide, Swiss laughs breathlessly. Their face falls, and Swiss slides his hand up their spine to tangle in their dark hair. "Not laughing at you, bug," he says, petting through their hair as his chest heaves. "You just taste like blackberries."

They huff a little laugh, still straddling his hips. The sun haloes them. Strange, that a demon like the two of them could look angelic, but here Aeon goes proving the impossible once again.

They stare at each other for a beat, two, before Aeon shakes their head. "So, where can I improve?"

The corner of Swiss's mouth quirks up, pink tongue darting out over his bottom lip. He's not sure where the taste of the blackberries they'd been eating starts and where Aeon's natural taste begins. And honestly? Swiss doesn't want to find that line.

"Well, bug, you're very eager," Swiss says. "Not a bad thing!" he's quick to assure, smoothing a hand up their bicep as their gaze drops. "I thoroughly enjoyed that. It's very, sweep you off your feet."

Aeon laughs, pushing up against Swiss's chest and holding themself above him. "I'm looking for areas of improvement, there has to be somewhere to get better."

Swiss hems and haws until Aeon's cheeks dimple with the force of their smile. He reaches up and tucks a strand of white hair off of their forehead. "I think you need a little more practice with kissing slow."

Aeon raises an eyebrow. "Yeah?" Swiss grants himself one more moment to stare at them above him. "Are you going to teach me?"

Swiss doesn't respond. Instead, his hands find their waist with a playful growl rumbling in his chest. Their eyes go wide a split second before he's rolling them over until he's on top of them. He smooths his thumb over their cheek, delighting in the little chuff it draws from them.

"Of course I'm gonna teach you, buggy," he coos, slowly lowering himself until the tips of their noses touch. Aeon's eyes flutter, struggling to stay open. "What kind of help would I be if I didn't?"

[mementoasts]

BEST EPISODE YET!

(cat-like guy whose name is episode. he's some kind of tv host, probably)

[singmyaubade]

Good Luck Babe

poly!marauders x nerd!female!reader

summary: after being a wallflower throughout your first five years at hogwarts, you always thought that you could be invisible. but when you hear the marauders talking cruelly about you and proceeding to ask for your forgiveness after, well good luck babe.

warnings: eventual smut! 18+ heavy angst, cursing, reader wants to kill the marauders , swearing, unprotected sex, praise, oral (male receiving), jealousy

a/n: oh hey... this is kinda based on those cliche 2000's movies where the girl is ugly but not really and she has that glow up or whatever. this was written so quick and not proofread, don't kill me. i hope you enjoy and as always, i apologize if you hate this!

STARTING off your sixth year at Hogwarts being an entirely new person wasn't something that you had planned or expected.

On the inside, you felt exactly the same, the same girl who was bold and could ferociously win a fight when it came to her character.

The same girl who was witty and sarcastic, surprising half of the people around you when you made a joke once in a lifetime.

But on the outside, you didn't have an awkward mis-shaped bob and you no longer wore baggy jackets that didn't do a thing for your figure.

And you didn't hide your face anymore, trying your best to be invisible.

It wasn't that you were shy or that you felt like a loser but you thought social hierarchy was bullshit and the only thing you wanted to focus on was your studies.

You may have been a brave Gryffindor on the inside but on the outside, you had to play the part of a shy mouse as corny as that sounds.

Unfortunately for you, invisibility only tends to last for so long until one moment, you are a nobody and then all eyes are upon you.

And maybe, just maybe, if you hadn't heard the Marauders discussing you the previous year, you would have stayed the same.

You had passed by the boys dormitory to give Remus his textbooks back as you always did when you let you borrow when you heard them speaking of the very person behind the door,

"I still have yet to understand why Lily and the rest of them act like she's some charity case," James huffed, "I mean, she's not some sick patient, they only feel the need to pity her because of how she looks."

You always knew that James had a foul mouth but to be speaking about someone like this, it was cruel.

Remus hissed, "That's not nice Prongs,"

"I'm not even saying it to be a dick!" James groaned, "I just mean, I pity her more for the fact that they don't even invite her to anything outside of breakfast and dinner," He explained, causing Remus to go silent.

Sirius chuckled, shaking his head. "That's absolutely horrid."

James reclined on his bed, a smirk playing on his lips. "I’m just saying, if I were Y/N, I’d be mortified."

Your eyes widened as they began to water, they were speaking about you.

Remus leaned against the wall, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Maybe she just doesn’t want to hang out with Lily and the others."

"Moony, seriously," James shot back, sitting up. "Where is Y/N right now, and where are the other girls?" His eyebrow cocked, trying to make his point as Remus silenced.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Why don’t we investigate for ourselves?" He unfolded the Marauder's Map with a flourish. "Alright, we’ve got Lily, Dorcas, Mary, and Marlene all at Hogsmeade, but Y/N is..." His voice trailed off, eyes narrowing.

James leaned closer, annoyance creeping into his tone as he grabbed the map, "She's-" He stopped, the color fading from his face.

"Fucking spit it out!" Remus said next as he snatched the map finally and saw that the map had shown that you were right outside their door.

"Shit!" You heard Remus say as he started making his way to the door.

Hearing his footsteps approaching, you quickly moved away from the door, bolting for your room.

Once you made it back to your dorm, you had sinked the floor. You put your hand on your mouth, muffling yourself as you cried silently.

You honestly hated to even say it but you did consider Lily and the rest of them your friends. You had never really thought about how they didn't invite you to places.

And if you were being truthful, they had never asked you to have breakfast or dinner with them.

You had always just assumed that you could join but they never told you to leave or swooshed you off. Another part of you hated how stupid you were, trying to intrude on their private time.

You didn't want to let it get to you what a bunch of seventeen year old boys were saying but it did sting horribly.

But in a way, it also motivated you to be who you were on the inside. You already had the top marks in your entire year and your plan to work in the Ministry after Hogwarts had already been set.

And now your chance to be something at Hogwarts was right in front of you, an opportunity that you couldn't miss.

You had to do it for yourself.

The Marauders had no idea who you truly were or even cared to know. And although Remus was kind to you, you could always see that he never made any effort to be your friend.

Not that you expected him to but it only taught you that they truly thought you were some hopeless case.

And an assignment to make the Marauders bite their tongues was one that you couldn't bare to fail.

After hearing that, you decided to avoid the Marauders for the next month, especially with summer break approaching. To your surprise, you barely saw them outside of classes, never giving them a chance to reach out—even Remus.

And then that summer, everything changed. You let your hair grow past your shoulders, embracing your natural curls instead of straightening them. You started wearing clothes that were trendy and form-fitting, a huge contrast to your old style.

You discovered a newfound love for self-care, enjoying the process far more than you expected. Each day felt like a transformation, and by the end of summer, your mother couldn’t help but notice. “Finally listening to me about your style, huh?” she teased.

You only laughed as you embraced her,

If only she knew what had caused it in the first place.

As you said goodbye to your family, anticipation mingled with dread. You knew the train ride would be the least of your worries, but the welcome dinner and the ceremony ahead felt like they might just be hell reincarnate.

As you entered Hogwarts, you admired it as much as you did when you were a first year. The castle was something you considered a second home and everything about it was magical, there was no doubting that.

A crowd of students, including yourself, moved toward the Great Hall, and you settled into your usual seat at the Gryffindor table.

You spotted the Marauders and the usual group of girls approaching, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. They took their usual spots in front of you, with the girls on one side and the boys on the other. James sat beside you, and Lily was directly in front of him.

You never quite understood why they arranged themselves like that, but it hardly mattered in the moment.

They were busy in conversation before James had noticed someone next to him, his eyes widening. You couldn't quite read his face but it seemed like a mix of confusion and flustered.

You stared at him back but he still had yet to mutter a word. You cleared your throat, "Uh hello," You practically whispered.

He snapped back into reality, "Oh sorry, hi," He muttered back.

Silence took over you both as James couldn't find the words of what to say to you.

On one hand, he wanted to call you beautiful, to tell you that you were one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. On the other, he just wanted to stare at you for a few more minutes like a creep.

Lily noticed his gaze and leaned in, smirking. "Excuse my friend; we’re still trying to figure out if he has a brain."

"I thought we solved that decades ago," Marlene chimed in, stifling a laugh.

Lily turned to you with a curious smile. "I don’t believe I’ve seen you before. What’s your name?"

Are you actually fucking kidding me?

You scoffed, "I'm Y/N,"

The entire group looked at you in awe, even the ones who weren't chimed in on the conversation.

"Y/N L/N?" Sirius asked, mouth gaping.

"Yep, that one," You snorted.

They all looked like they had seen a ghost, "You look different," Marlene said as Mary shoved her.

"She means in a good way!" Mary added.

"Uh thanks," You said, awkwardly.

They all continued to stare at you like you were an exhibit in a museum, their eyes scanning you up and down.

"Do you all mind not staring at me?" you asked, trying to break the tension. They all looked away, feigning innocence as they muttered apologies.

"How have you been?" Lily asked, clearly trying to ease the awkwardness.

"Fine," you replied, your tone clipped.

You caught the pained expressions on the Marauders' faces, realizing they were the reason for your dismissive attitude.

"That's great," Lily said, forcing a smile.

You felt a wave of frustration at the awkwardness surrouding you and decided it was time to escape. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom," you announced, heading toward the exit before they could respond.

As you walked away, you could already here the mutters and whispers emerging from the table, the fascinating topic being you.

You paced as you heard footsteps trailing behind you, but you ignored them, letting your gaze wander around the castle.

"Y/N!" someone called out, startling you.

You turned to see Sirius, James, and Remus hurrying after you. You only let out a snort before continuing your same way.

A hand suddenly reached around your forearm as you turned to see Remus. You quickly snatched your hand away, finally stopping to look at the group of boys who you despised.

Crossing your arms, you shot them a hostile look. "What?"

"We just wanna—"

"We're so—"

"Listen, we just—"

They all spoke at once, but you scoffed and turned back toward the bathroom, starting to walk away.

You were hoping that they would realize you wanted nothing to do with them but instead, it only made them want to chase you more.

They quickened their pace, and you spun around sharply. "For fuck's sake, what do you want?" you snapped.

James took a breath, his expression earnest. "I'm sorry for what I said. I've been thinking about it since you left. I was an awful twat, and you didn't deserve a thing of what I said."

You let out a sarcastic laugh, "Are you serious?" You asked as your expression changed to furious, "You basically called me a loser and said that Lily and the rest of them were only hanging out with me out of pity,"

James hissed as your statement, feeling the razor in your voice.

"-And now you all want to act as if I should just forgive you since I don't look the same anymore," You got closer to James's face, "Fuck off."

You turned your heel again and this time, the boys didn't follow you.

You finally entered the bathroom and shut the door behind you. Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you struggled to read the expression on your face. You were furious at the Marauders, and the idea of forgiving them felt impossible.

Yet, there was a flicker of gratitude that you felt for the change you’d undergone. You’d gained a new confidence that felt good, but the sting of their cruel words still lingered in your mind.

And you knew that you couldn't let it get to you but knowing they thought that of you, even Remus. It still did things to you that you would never admit out loud.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you realized it was almost time to head to the dormitory.

The rest of the night had flown by, with first years being introduced to their new home for the next six years while everyone else relaxed in the common room. Despite curfews, fifth years and above knew they could hang out longer—the curfew was mostly for the first years anyway.

"Caput Draconis," you muttered, and the Fat Lady nodded, granting you entrance.

Stepping into the common room, your heart sank as you spotted the last group you wanted to see. They noticed you just as quickly, encouraging you to pick up your pace toward the dorm.

"Hey, Y/N!" Dorcas called out, making you wince as you turned to see her waving.

The Marauders looked down, shame etched on their faces, avoiding your gaze as if you were Medusa.

You approached them slowly, dread settling in your stomach as they eyed you like a science project.

"We were just about to play a fun little game," Dorcas said enticingly, while Marlene snorted beside her.

"I don’t know if Spin the Bottle is a great idea for the first night back," Marlene added, taking a sip of her beer.

"A little peck never hurt anyone," Lily chimed in, clapping her hands together.

Of all people, you’d never expect Lily Evans to approve such a thing. This was the same girl who nearly fainted when she heard about Marlene and Dorcas kissing the previous year.

"I don’t know if this is the game for me," you replied, eyeing the group warily.

"Of course it is!" Lily insisted, but you raised an eyebrow. "Oh my gosh! Not like that, I just mean it's a fun game for us all to play," she quickly added, looking flustered.

Part of you wanted to say no and retreat to your bed, but that was the old you, and you knew it wouldn’t help. This was a new year, and you were determined to embrace new experiences.

Besides, you’d never participated in any scandalous games for all of the years you've been at Hogwarts—it felt like a crime in itself.

So, after a moment’s hesitation, you said, "Okay, sure." The girls erupted in cheers, while the Marauders exchanged worried glances.

What if you had to kiss one of them? Would you refuse and create a scene? Would you want to strangle them for even suggesting it?

The possibilities raced through their mind, but there was no turning back as everyone began to form a circle.

As you sat in the circle, a shiver of nervousness enveloped you. You had never kissed anyone before and the whole thought made you nervous within itself.

Don't get it wrong, you've had chances but they never seemed right and you certainly weren't kissing Matthew Trunchbull underneath the bleachers of the Quidditch field.

So when you got offered a shot of firewhiskey to cool your nerves by Marlene, you took it happily as it burned down your throat.

You brushed off all the negative thoughts entering your mind,

What really is the worst thing that could happen?

[nochepsicodelica]

Bear boyfriend Toji who dreads getting sick more than the average person. He gets so grumpy during this little stunt in his health because he can't do much besides manage his harsh cough and runny nose, rest in bed and eat, but that's not even what he's most upset about. He's so pissed off that he can't be around you, unless he wants to get you sick too.

Oh, but you make it so hard on him. Walking into the room with a mug of tea with that smile that could nurse anyone back to health. You linger for longer than you should, even after he told you that if you're in there for too long, you'll get sick too. It's an annoying dilemma because on one end, watching you be sick is one of the most heart wrenching things he's ever seen. Like him, you pretend that you're fine, when really you feel so debilitated by the virus that invaded your immune system. You tell him you feel better, but your hearing is muffled and your voice is gravelly and doesn't seem to be recovering quickly. Toji sees right through it and his protective instincts kick in. He insists on doing everything necessary to get you back up and running. On the other end, he wants to see you and kiss you and just hold onto you through this horrible time he's having. He hasn't kissed you in almost three days. It really sucks that he's sick, but it's entirely unfair that you can't be near him. There is truly so much for him to be reasonably grumpy about.

"Hey, you're gonna get wrinkles on your handsome face," you say, smoothing down the crease between his eyebrows with your thumb. "Do you really want me out of here that bad?"

He sighs. Your cool hands are heaven on his burning skin. "You know I don't, ma," he croaks out, pulling your hand down from his face and holding it. "I want you here, but you can't stay."

"Baby, you lost your pretty color. You look like a zombie, but also, it's killing me to only be allowed to check on you once every hour. I think it's time I come sleep in here, again."

"No," he protests, while shaking his head. He wishes he had rethought the gesture once he's steady again. He feels like he shook his brain and his head hurts, now.

"Toji, i'm taking care of you. I'm sleeping in our bed, tonight. I'm more worried about you than I am about getting sick."

He wants to laugh at how you sound like a mother scolding her child, but he knows it'll throw him into a nasty coughing fit. He can't argue with you too much in this state. He doesn't want to argue anyway. You care and it feels nice.

"If I get sick, I get sick," you say, settling down next to him, on your side of the bed.

Toji has never been one to pull the 'woe is me' card, but when you're smothering him with so much affection and cooing at him while caressing his uncomfortably warm face, it's hard not to lean into it. You relieve his discomfort with your methods of care. Be it medicinal remedies or your extra love and affection, even your patience. You weren't the one who proposed keeping distance from him. You didn't want to sleep on the couch those last couple nights, but you did it for the sake of letting Toji be comfortable. He's your lover and you don't see a reason to avoid him, like what he has is something more fatal. His contagiousness is disregarded, because it doesn't matter.

You know he would do the same for you so you don't wrinkle your nose when he starts feeling safe enough to nuzzle into you and sluggishly kiss you, while clinging onto you. He's extra clingy, too. Your body is a lot cooler than his, so it feels nice when he rests his cheek on your chest or when his hot, clammy hands go to your arms. You don't turn away or block your face when he coughs. You rub menthol onto his reddened chest and neck, and watch as he grins dumbly when his nose clears up for a little. When he falls asleep, you stay with him, even if he doesn't wake up for the next five hours. You watch over him and only get up to grab things that are necessary, like his medicine, some water, and a damp towel to wipe the sweat off his forehead and neck.

He takes on the role of the little spoon when you take care of him. Being pampered by you makes him feel small in all the best ways. He feels protected, like you're his guardian. It's really as if the only remedy he needs is you. The expanse of your love for him is unquantifiable, but when you wrap your smaller arms around him and press featherlight kisses onto his skin, it's like a force field that blankets him.

[rottiens]

⊹ synopsis. . as your beloved husband, it is his duty to indulge you in your fantasies. even in the unspoken ones. ⊹ tags. . (18+), husband nanami x reader with female anatomy (no pronouns used), petnames (honey), suggestive, dirty talk, finger sucking, reader has a hands kink. divider creds: cafekitsune.

Discreetly you glance back, your eyebrows raise unconsciously and your heart does that unusual throbbing that you hadn't experienced in a long time in Kento's presence, at least since you got married. You didn't want to admit that married life had tempered a bit the passion of the early years, when your hands couldn't be still standing next to each other, when you struggled to control your restless gaze and burning cheeks because you had to share the same team for a mission with your boyfriend. On the other hand, Kento was always more reserved, more serious. When asked if you were dating, he would simply say it was no one's business, although his cheekbones would change color every time someone mentioned your name.

After you left school behind, graduated as sorcerers and began accepting special grade missions, Kento and you talked about your relationship and how you saw yourselves together for much longer, starting a family, growing plants together and perhaps enjoying a quieter hobby that didn't involve exorcising curses. The two of you considered joining a book club or visiting the countryside on weekends.

Then one day he dropped one of his knees to the ground and handed you the beautiful ring that now decorates your finger, physically sealing a union to which you were both long committed: it has been exactly four years and three months since the wedding that only close people and family members attended. Since then you have kept a low profile, you had accepted married life and the everyday life it brought with it, although that didn't mean you had stopped loving Kento like the first day —on the contrary—, it meant seeing him every day and extinguishing a little of that adolescent spark that once burned you from inside every time you spent more than three days away from each other.

However, since a couple of weeks that spark had come back to life hungrier than ever and it's not until now that you find out why.

The sound of the paper sliding under your husband's fingers is soothing to you. Kento does this almost every night: reading a book, sometimes even reading aloud to you until you fall asleep. His glasses rest on the tip of his nose, his bare chest rises and falls like the waves of the sea, and he's wearing gray pajama pants. You've watched this scene so many nights that you've learned to recognize the meaning when his brow furrows or when he pouts as he immerses himself in rich reading. At this moment, as he sometimes does, he gently caresses your calf, sending shivers along your limb, generating fluttering heartbeats in your chest and between your legs.

Kento turns another page and calls out to you, "Honey," without looking away from the book. The timbre of his voice draws you to him. "Are you okay?" he asks again, now watching you with wrinkles in his forehead that denote concern.

"I'm fine," you assure him without maintaining eye contact. "Can't I enjoy the sight of my handsome husband while he reads?" The word "husband" draws a smile on his face, causing the corners of his mouth to turn up. You only need to utter that one word to have him completely captivated.

"I'm almost done," he announces as he dives back into reading.

You gulp. It's his hands, you suddenly recognize. The realization hits you in the forehead. There's something in the way his thumb runs across the page, something in how his open hand holds the back of the book, in his thumb tapping the cover and then bringing it to his mouth to play with his lip. It all gets your bloodstream pumping adrenaline.

The thought makes you run away from the scene like a teenager in love. At first you were in total denial, hands? How could you tell him that his hands turned you on, wouldn't that be weird? However as the days go by you find it harder to control it and make it go unnoticed, you find yourself looking at them when Kento takes your hand to go outside, when he holds the steering wheel of the car, you find yourself squeezing your legs when his fingers tighten around the watering can to water the plants and the worst of all, when he cooks.

Now, as he finishes decorating the cake, he was wearing those black jeans that were your favorite, along with a brown shirt that had the first two buttons open, leaving part of his collar exposed. The sleeves of the shirt were rolled up to his elbows. You couldn't help but stare at him in fascination, feeling the saliva pool in your mouth.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" The question sneaks in among your swarm of thoughts, and you stop yourself from watching him work to stare into his eyes that don't look at you.

"I know," you reply simply, which elicits a purr of approval from him.

"Want to try?" He abruptly changes the subject, but still, encouraged, you nod your head. With his index finger and thumb, Kento pinches a small piece of cake and brings it up to your mouth. You stretch your neck to catch his fingers, and the taste of vanilla and cream glides over your tongue. Even after swallowing Kento doesn't withdraw his fingers, and you don't move either.

The playful thumb, still with traces of cream, reaches just beyond your lips to meet your tongue. Your eyes widen as red alarms go off in your mind and your thighs press against each other.

"My hands, hm?" it catches you in mid-act, unable to move, your body turning to stone in the middle of the kitchen. "What's so special about them?"

"I-I…"

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Kento purrs as he pushes a little further, the pad of his thumb massaging your tongue in small circles spreading the sweet taste on it. "Suck it, I know this is what's been filling your mind." And you do, closing your eyes at his command, wrapping your fingers around his wrist as Kento begins to fuck your mouth. "I can't believe you didn't comment to me about this little kink of yours, it offends me even." You groan, unable to look him in the eye, succumbed to the feeling of fighting for your dignity or surrendering to pleasure. "Maybe you need me massaging your thighs, maybe you want them around your neck… playing with your tits or maybe I need to make you watch my thick fingers go in and out of you, my thick veins standing out in my hands as I pump my fingers inside that wet pussy." You whimper, Kento laughs. "I guess I'll have to cancel my dinner tonight, I need to get each and every thought you've had with my hands out of that pretty head of yours while you comment on what it is you like so much about them."

[nerdy-novelist017]

Soaked (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader Reader pt 8)

Hello, my lovelies! Sorry this took forever to write and post but I’ve been very busy with real life (ew) and I’m actually posting this while I’m on vacation. I wrote it on the plane and am posting in the car so please be kind if you see any mistakes hehe 😉

Benny x Bunny Masterlist

Word Count- 4.7k+

Summary- Benny’s never wanted anything as much as he wants to marry you, but with such different lives, you’re not so sure it will be as easy as he claims.

You felt the wind surge around you as Benny accelerated down the main road, his motorcycle roaring beneath you both. The world blurred past in a whirlwind of colors, but all you could focus on was the way your heart lifted, how a thrill of excitement shot through you as you zoomed past the rest of the gang. He did it just because he knew it’d make you giggle. And you did, the sound escaping you in a way that felt so carefree, so full of joy especially as you shot past Johnny and the others, leaving them in your dirt.

The wind was relentless, blowing your hair out of its carefully manicured braid, but you didn’t find yourself caring much anymore. The days spent with Benny had a way of shifting everything you thought had mattered. The things that once held so much weight – social status, gossip, public appearances – no longer seemed as important anymore. With Benny, it was almost like discovering a whole new world. No, not a new world. The same streets passed beneath the tires, the same faces you once worried about still existed. The world was still the same, but it was how he viewed it that felt so different. He didn’t care what others thought about him, didn’t pay attention to their expectations. He lived in his own world, surrounded by others like him that didn’t conform to the societal molds – people that you wouldn’t have even approached just based on their appearance. You never considered yourself a very judgemental person, but because of Benny, you have met and befriended people you could have never imagined.

That’s one of the things you loved about Benny. He wasn’t like anyone you had ever met before. He was different. And you were beginning to love that too.

He pulled off the main road, stopping in his signature spot in front of the club house. The roar of the rest of the gang pulling up sounded in the distance as Benny helped you off the bike. He held his grip on your hand, lacing his own fingers through yours as he pulled you gently into the bar. You followed him inside where the Vandals’ laughter and chatter soon filled the air. A familiar buzz of camaraderie enveloped the place, and before long, you found yourself seated around the table with a few of the core members. Benny was close – as always – with his arm draped over your shoulder.

“Hey, Bunny,” Cockroach’s voice cut through the sea of noise as he leaned forward and used his beer bottle to point at you. “When are you finally gonna say yes to our boy Benny, here?”

You stiffened slightly, the weight of the question hanging in the air and drawing the attention of the others at the table.

“Oh yeah,” Corky piped up, one eyebrow playfully cocked in a challenge. “He’s been asking, what, 100 times now? What’s the holdup? He’s not getting any younger, ya know?”

Heat filled your face at their teasing. Though Corky’s words were a bit of an exaggeration, they weren’t technically wrong. Since your kiss behind the clubhouse, Benny has asked you to marry him almost every day, sometimes more than once in a day. It had started by him mentioning married life in casual conversation, and you jokingly pointed out that he hadn’t actually proposed to begin with – not traditionally. And you were shocked to see him abandon everything he was doing in the moment to ask you to marry him. You giggled and rolled your eyes at his dramatics, but something deeper inside you caused your heart to flutter nervously. Since then, he’s asked several times, some in passing, a casual remark slipped into the conversation. Other times, he’d pause what he was doing, drop to one knee and grin up at you as if he were waiting for you to give in. But each time you’d laugh it off, brush it aside as him being unserious.

“Maybe I’m just waiting for the right moment?” you replied as you timidly played with the chain of your necklace, trying to deflect the attention.

“The right moment?” Cockroach parroted in disbelief. “He’s been proposin’ left and right for a week. Hell, I’d have said yes after the first time if it were me!”

The group laughed, and you tensed under Benny’s arm, wanting to melt into the floor from embarrassment. Benny squeezed your hand reassuringly, and he leaned, his voice dropping to a low murmur that was only meant for you, “They don’t mean nothin’ by that, you know that.”

You nodded, not trusting your own voice. He was right, you knew that. They didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but the constant razzing – especially with this particular subject – was start to weigh on you.

“Yeah, c’mon, Bunny,” Cal chimed in from across the way, “What’s it gonna take? Benny’s a catch! He’s got the bike, the looks, the . . . mommy’s issues. If you don’t say yes soon, you might lose your chance.”

That playful jab was too much for Benny who stiffened next to you. You expected him to get angry, to blow up like you had seen your father do when he was upset. But instead, Benny leaned forward, eyes narrowing with a playful glint that you had come to adore. The table was buzzing with laughter, but he wasn’t about to let the spotlight stay on you for too long. Without missing a beat, he flashed a grin at Corky, his hand raised as he said, “Alright, alright. But let’s not pretend you all ain’t desperate for a distraction since none of you can keep a bike upright without fallin’ on your asses.”

The table roared with laughter and Corky’s mouth fell open in mock offense. “That was one time! And I had an oil slick!”

Johnny immediately jumped in, “Yeah Corky, an oil slick you created when your bike was leakin’ everywhere.”

Laughter erupted again and you shot Benny a grateful look as the guys started ribbing Corky about his infamous fall. Benny’s eyes met yours briefly, his thumb brushing your hand under the table in a silent message: I’ve got you. Most of the group knew you were shy and did not appreciate being the center of attention in a crowd, and they respected that. However, there were a few class clowns (as Benny called them) who loved to tease you, knowing it could get a reaction without fail. But Benny never let it go on for long, always shutting them down when he recognized your discomfort.

They’ve never teased you about marriage though. You had to wonder if Benny had voiced his irritation to them at some point or if they had picked up on your hesitation organically. Either way, it left you feeling bad. Excusing yourself, you wiggled out of Benny’s grasp as you stood and made your way for the restroom, needing a moment to breathe, to clear your head. But just as you reached the back of the bar, a voice stopped you.

“You ain’t gotta worry about what they say to you,” Funny Sonny stood leaning casually against the bar top as he sipped a glass of whiskey. “That just means they like you, accept you.”

You paused, glancing over your shoulder at the table of rowdy bikers. “I’m just not . . . used to it. All the teasin’.”

Sonny nodded, his disheveled hair falling into his eyes as he grinned. “You’ll get used to it. Won’t be long till you’re the one throwing out the first jabs.”

He said it so nonchalantly, as if it were the most obvious course of action, as if you weren’t from completely different worlds. You furrowed your brows, eyes casting downwards as you admitted, “I’m not so sure about that. I’m not at all like you guys.”

“You don’t gotta be like us to be with us. We’re family here and family means lookin’ out for each other, even the ones who came from different backgrounds,” he said, his voice lowering a register to a bit more of a serious tone.

His words settled over you like a warm blanket, the concept so foreign yet so familiar. Family. You knew what that was, you had one, you were loved by one. But for some reason, it felt like it meant something different with the Vandals. They chose their family, stood by them despite no blood relation. Your parents loved you, you knew that. They showed it in their own ways every day. But by default, they had to love you. With the Vandals, they chose to care for each other, chose to look out for each other. In a way, it almost seemed more powerful, more profound.

Being Benny’s girl didn’t just mean he alone had your best interest at heart. It also meant having the rest of the Vandals on your side too, all of them looking out for you. You weren’t sure if you’ve ever experienced such an intense loyalty before, even from blood relatives. And it left you with a warm feeling in your chest.

When you returned to the table, Benny was already standing as if he were waiting for you. His eyes met yours with a slight unease, almost like he thought you wouldn’t come back, like he thought you were so upset that you’d sneak out the backdoor.

“Wanna go for a night ride?” he asked, his voice soft as his hand extended out for you.

Your heart squeezed at his thoughtfulness. He knew how much you were growing to enjoy the feeling of blazing down the empty streets under a star-filled sky with him. A smile tugged at your lips, and you took his hand without hesitation, nodding.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips as your hand slid into his own. You were vaguely aware of the groans and exaggerated protests from the table about the night being still young, but you didn’t hesitate to follow Benny as he led you to the door. He pulled you along to his Harley, the cool and fresh air a welcome change.

The tension from earlier still lingered as Benny’s hand touched your leg, helping you onto the back of the bike. You wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing your face into his back, finding solace in the familiar scent from his jacket.

He drove you around the city, stars and stop lights shining above, engine roaring below. He eventually pulled off the main drag, heading down a quieter road that led out of town. The blacktop blurred beneath you as he slowed the speed to more of a lazy joyride. He took a familiar turn, stopping at the small pull off area before a bridge. The sound of the engine faded as he brought the bike to a stop, the air filling with crickets’ song. The night’s air was breezy, but a welcome change from the hot, loud atmosphere of the clubhouse.

Benny dismounted first, reaching out to help you down. His touch – lingering longer than necessary – against your arm felt electric, sending a jolt of butterflies to your stomach, his eyes searching your face as if he was trying to read your thoughts. The two of you walked over the concrete bridge, pausing once in the middle. You leaned over the railing, getting lost in the gentle swirl of the water below. But Benny was lost in the sight of you.

“You alright?” he asked, his voice low, the usual playful teasing replaced by something softer and reserved only for you.

With your heart beating hard at his gentle tone, you nodded. “I’m fine.”

He frowned, reaching out to brush a loose strand of hair from your face. “I know the guys can be a bit much. I don’t like when they tease you like that. I didn’t mean for them to make you uncomfortable.”

You couldn’t help but smile a bit at his words, knowing that wanting to protect you was something he took very seriously, even if it meant from his own friends, his own family.

“I know,” you responded softly, leaning your chin on your hand over the railing.

“I’ll talk to them, make sure they won’t raz you like that anymore,” he promised, his expression serious.

“It’s not that. It’s just . . . I don’t know. It’s a lot to get used to,” you admitted gently. Before Benny, you’d never even been in a bar before, never ridden a motorcycle, never stayed out past curfew. He was a completely different experience than you were accustomed to. And now he wanted you to marry, after only knowing him for a few weeks. He wanted to be your husband, your partner for life. Your life felt like a bit of a whirlwind ever since you met him, but you wanted to be certain it wasn’t just fun because it was new.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just stood there, his eyes tracing your features, his hand resting over your own. You could practically see the gears turning in his brain, something in him conflicted. Finally, he released a soft sigh, putting an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in close. “You don’t have to answer them, you know. Hell, you don’t have to answer me. Not till you’re ready.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you breathed in his scent – leather, smoke and something uniquely Benny. “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just that I . . . ”

Benny pulled back slightly, his fingers tilting your chin up to meet his gaze, his thumb gently brushing your cheek. “Hey, you don’t owe anyone an explanation, not even me. You’ll say yes when you’re ready. And when that time comes, I’ll be here. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as it was your turn to kid. “How do you know I’ll say yes?”

Benny’s smile was gentle but still roguishly confident. His hand lingered on your cheek, his fingers tracing down the curve of your jaw as if he were mapping every detail of you. “I just know. When you feel it – when it’s real – you just know.”

He said it so simply as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, as if love were the most uncomplicated concept. You didn’t understand that, couldn’t see it that way. You’d seen the love your parents shared and that was beautiful and kind but it was also messy and cruel more often than not. And you understood that your parents were not the only representation of what love and marriage was supposed to be, but it was a constant presence in your life. They didn’t have perfect love, not like what you’d see in the movies or read in books. And you wondered if maybe you were giving too high of expectations for what love was supposed to be, but what you felt when you were around Benny . . . well, it felt exactly like the books described.

The way he looked at you, as if you were the most important thing in the world, made you feel so seen. The way he listened to you as if you were the most entertaining show, made you feel so heard. And the truth was undeniable: you were falling for Benny faster than you thought possible. It was terrifying. Benny was all fire and freedom, a rebel who didn’t play by the rules, who followed his own path with reckless abandon. And you admired that about him, but the thought of stepping into his world permanently felt like stepping off a ledge into the unknown.

“What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?” he asked, pulling you back into the present.

You pulled back slightly, biting your lip in contemplation before speaking your mind, “Don’t you wonder if there are other girls out there that you haven’t even met yet? Girls who are more suited for you?”

He shook his head, his voice light as he said, “Nah, I know you’re the only one for me, kid.”

“But marriage is serious. It’s forever.”

His hand slid down to your hip, turning you to face him fully, his expression solemn. “I never . . . I never thought marriage was real. The way I saw my mom and old man together . . . what they had wasn’t love. And I realized that at an early age. I didn’t think it was something that was real, just a bunch of fairytale bullshit you tell little kids. The girls I’ve been with, girls that may have been more suited for me, have never made me feel what I feel with you, Bunny. This is serious to me too because it proves everything I’ve never believed in.”

Emotion caught in the back of your throat as you pictured the man standing before you as just a boy living in a toxic household, an unloving home. It made you want to hold him tight, to shield him from the rest of the world. The man who held you so gently, who took you for night rides just to cheer you up. The man who came to your bake sale when nobody else did. The man who promised to drive slow so as not to scare you. The man who said he’d follow you all the way to California so that you didn’t have to go by yourself. The man who taught you about his hobbies with eagerness, and listened to yours with attentiveness.

He deserved to be loved in the same way he loved. But the tragic thing was that he didn’t see that, couldn’t comprehend someone loving him like that. He was damaged by his childhood, and you realized that he didn’t think he was worthy of repair. But you’d show him that he was, that he was worthy of everything he never had.

Slowly, you lifted your hands to gently cup his face, and his breath hitched in his throat. There was a shift in his expression – his usual teasing and bravado now replaced with some raw and unguarded as though he was offering you a glimpse into a deeper part of him, one rarely ever shown to anyone.

He pressed his forehead to yours, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. “You’re not just some girl to me, Bunny. You know that, right?”

The words sent a shiver down your spine. He wasn’t playing around now, not hiding behind his usual flirty quips. His sincerity was almost overwhelming. You swallowed thickly. “But what if I mess this up? What if I’m the one who can’t do this?”

Benny’s brows furrowed and he lifted a hand to brush across your cheek, his touch gentle but grounding. “You won’t. You couldn’t, even if you tried.”

“You’re making it sound so easy,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, as if you didn’t quite believe him.

Benny could feel your tremble, the shaky laugh betraying your nerves you were trying so hard to hide. He could sense your heart racing, and he wanted so desperately to be the one to soothe it, to take away the hesitation in your eyes. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, the soft curve of it making his heart ache in his chest. He loved how your lips quivered just slightly under his touch. He loved making you blush, loved teasing you until you looked at him like you were annoyed or completely at his mercy. But this . . . this was different. His touch lingered on your lip, slow and almost reverent as he savored the way you responded to him. It wasn’t about teasing anymore – it was about showing you what you meant to him.

“It is,” he murmured, his voice a little rougher than he intended “It’s easy because it’s you.”

The air between you felt electric as his hand slid down the curve of your neck, his fingers lingering there, feeling the steady thrum of your heartbeat that seemed to match his own wild one. He ducked his head slightly as he whispered, “You’re scared. But you don’t need to be.”

He meant it, more than he meant anything in his life. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes again, searching for any sign of doubt, any sign that you didn’t feel the same way he did. Your eyes – wide and uncertain – met his, and Benny felt the weight of his words over them both.

“How can you be so sure?” you asked, your soft voice almost disappearing in the night.

And how could he explain it, especially since he’s never been good at explaining his feelings? How could he put into words what was so abundantly clear to him? That you made everything – even the most outrageous things – seem possible. That with you, he didn’t feel like just some fuck-up waiting for the next diaster. With you he felt grounded, like he belonged somewhere. Like you saw him for more than just the wild, reckless kid everyone else saw.

“Because you make me sure,” he responded with a gentle, encouraging smile as his hands moved to tilt your chin upwards to him. “You make my life feel like it’s supposed to.”

His gaze moved down to your mouth once more as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, and he simply couldn’t resist anymore. He closed the gap, brushing his lips so softly against your own. The kiss was gentle, tender, but as you responded to his touch, the need that had been simmering inside him for so long flared to life. His hands dropped down to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, smiling into the kiss when he heard your slight gasp.

His heart pounded in his chest as the world seemed to fade away briefly until it was just you and him, just this. He never wanted to stop, never wanted to let you go.

But you did eventually pull away, the need to breathe becoming all consuming. Breathlessly, he pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes remaining closed as he focused on slowing his pulse. His hands remained on your waist, holding you like you might slip away if he let go.

“You see?” he whispered as his lips brushing against your forehead softly. “It’s easy being with you.”

You giggled and his heart soared at the melody. It took everything in him not to pull you back into another kiss, not to hold onto you like you were the only thing that kept him grounded.

His lips still tingled from the kiss, and he could taste the faint sweetness of your breath, the softness of your lips. It wasn’t enough. It never felt like enough for Benny. He wanted more of you. He’d never wanted anything like he wanted you, never craved anyone like he craved you. It was almost unbearable, like every second where he wasn’t touching you was a second wasted.

And yet, he knew you were scared. He could see it in the way you looked down at your shoes, could hear it in the timidity of your voice. It only made him want to protect you more, to make you see that being with him would never be something you had to fear. But he didn’t know how to say that without sounding like he was pushing, without making you feel like you were being rushed into a decision that was as much about you as it was him.

But damn if he didn’t want to make you his.

He opened his eyes and pulled back enough to look at you face again, to really take you in. And my god, the way you were looking up at him with those wide, innocent eyes made his chest tighten. And you didn’t even realize how much power you had over him. One look, one smile, and he was a goner.

Before either of you could speak, thunder cracked off in the distance, bringing you both back to the present, back to the rest of the world. You glanced up at the dark clouds that blew in to cover the stars, wondering how long you had stood on this bridge with Benny.

“Guess we should get back,” you said sheepishly.

“Guess so,” Benny replied with a lazy grin as though the storm could come crashing down and he’d still be perfectly content standing here with you.

“Do you think it’s going to rain?” you asked as you walked to his bike, glancing up at the thick, dark clouds blowing in from the west.

“Nah,” he said as he swung a leg over the bike with that signature confidence that made your heart race. “We’ll be fine.”

Famous last words.

******

By the time Benny pulled up to your house, rain was pouring from the sky like a waterfall, fat and heavy droplets splattering onto the sidewalk. Despite wearing Benny’s Vandals jacket, the rain had completely soaked you. Your hair, which had been meticulously pinned up just hours ago, was plastered to your face, and your dress clung to your body like a second skin.

You didn’t wait for him to shut off the bike before you hopped off and tugged on his sleeve.

“C’mon!” You laughed, tugging on Benny’s sleeve as you ran for the safety of your porch overhang. Your heels splashed through the water pooling on the blacktop, and he followed quickly behind, his warm hands finding your waist to steady you from falling as you both stumbled beneath the overhang.

Breathless and grinning like an idiot, you turned to face him, and you were momentarily stunned by the sight. Rainwater rolled down from his usually swept up hair, sliding down the curve of his cheekbones and falling off his jawline. He only wore a whote t shirt, the wet fabric turning almost transparent as it clung to every ridge, every toned muscle and you blinked before your gaze shot back up to his face. Even as wet as a drowned rat, he still managed to look so effortlessly sexy.

He was grinning at you with that boyish expression, and heat filled your face at the realization that you were just as soaked as he was but definitely not as pretty a sight. You probably looked like a mess — makeup smeared, hair ruined — but he was staring at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

“Not gonna rain, huh?” you teased, quirking an eyebrow at the heavy rainfall just off your porch.

“Just a light sprinkle,” he returned easily, but you noticed he had to bite his bottom lip to keep from laughing.

“Do you wanna come in?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. “To dry off?”

He sobered instantly, his gaze raking over your form before moving to your front door. He’d never been inside your house, never seen where you call home, where you lay down at night and replay your memories of him. There was never really an option for him to be inside your house. He’d never met your parents — despite asking multiple times to meet them, but you couldn’t bring yourself to put neither your parents nor Benny though that. Deep down, you knew your father would never approve of Benny, never give him his blessing. It was a disaster waiting to happen when he found out that you were dating a biker. You begged your mother to keep it a secret to which she obliged, but you knew it wouldn’t be long till he found out.

Benny took a full step back from you, hesitation obvious in his face, his voice low and almost regretful he said. “I—I better not, Bun.”

Normally, you wouldn’t ask again after being denied, wouldn’t be so bold. But you weren’t the same girl you were a few weeks ago before you met Benny. Emboldened by the perfect opportunity to have him inside your home, to share a piece of yourself with him, you stepped forward.

You took a step forward, your voice soft but sure. “My parents aren’t home. C’mon, just to dry off and wait till the rain lets up a little. You can’t drive in that anyway. It’s not safe and I won’t let you.”

Benny released a breath that sounded a lot like a laugh as he shook his head, clearly conflicted by your invitation. And for a moment, you thought he might shake his head and turn away. You thought he might face the rainstorm and leave you behind.

But instead, he nodded and your heart soared at the small gesture. Filled with hopeful energy, you shot him a smile, moving to open the front door and invite him inside your home, inside your world.

-Tag List-

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[luvelve]

husband!mingyu who secretly knows that one of your weaknesses is seeing the band of his underwear whenever he stretches. something about seeing CALVIN KLEIN in all bold letters whenever the giant man stretches his limbs. hanging just below his torso, let it be red, black, grey, or just the classic white calvins, it’d be sure to make your stomach flutter.

how else could he have picked up on this not so little obsession of yours when every time his underwear peaks, your cheeks turn a bright pink hue and suddenly you forget what mingyu was talking about just then.

“though we could get 2 vacuums instead, one for upstairs and one for downstairs.” mingyu says after your mind has somehow turned 7 innocent seconds of him stretching into a short calvin klein montage with some flirty doja cat song playing in the background.

“that’d be smarter and easier for us, right?” he adds, fixing the folds of his shirt. you’re now completely unaware that your mouth is hanging slightly open and that your cheeks are now the same color as mingyu’s favorite pink hoodie.

“yeah, uh huh.” you nod your head absentmindedly, now finally shifting your gaze at your husband’s face. this doesn’t go unnoticed by him though.

“okay, so what did i just say, my love?” his tone playful, deciding whether or not he should tell you that he knows why you’re all flushed right now. he turns his body on the couch so he can fully face you.

he scans your face and he recognizes that look on your face. it’s the same flushed look you had when mingyu first kissed you outside your apartment. the same look when he showed up with flowers and your favorite chinese takeout on a random tuesday. the same look when he brought you to his parents’ house and accidentally said he wants to marry you.

after being married to each other for almost 3 years, mingyu finds it endearing that he’s still able to leave you all flustered. whether it be stopping in his tracks to tie your laces, to removing the strand of hair on your face, and even flashing the band of his underwear apparently.

“uh, we’re getting a new vacuum… and we can get those dyson? ones that you’ve been telling me about.” you shoot him a sheepish smile and it takes everything in him to not kiss you right now.

he pauses and flashes you his signature smile. his canines poking out at the side.

“what?” you say, giggling at the giant teddy bear that is smiling at you for a reason unknown to you.

“baby, i know.” he huffs, closing the tiny gap in between the two of you.

“know what?” you reply, raising an eyebrow at him.

being the gentle giant that your husband is, he wants to lay it to you gently so as not to totally embarrass you, but he’s afraid it’s gonna happen either way.

“my love, i know that whenever i stretch, like when i put my hands up like this and my tummy shows? and so does my underwear? baby, i catch you staring.” he trails off after demonstrating to you and he starts giggling and snakes his arms around your waist. your faces are now practically centimeters from each other. there’s only love and adoration in mingyu’s eyes.

“you-what do you? no, i don’t. babe, i don’t even know what you’re talking about.” you bite your lip in attempts to hide the giant smile that’s about to form on your face.

all mingyu can do is laugh and bury his face into the crook of your neck. meanwhile, your insides are burning from the embarrassment that your husband knows your little secret and your cheeks are turning bright red this time around.

“my love, its okay. so what if you find my underwear hot? i mean i find a lot of things about you hot. like when you pump gas into our car. hot. when your hair’s wet and you wrap it in a towel and you take it out from the towel? hot. oh, when you wear my shirts and hoodies. well that’s more of cute, but you get the point. babe, i could go on and on, you know.” he continues to rub circles onto your waist where his hands are resting.

you’re reminded of how loving and gentle your husband is because only he could rub away the embarrassment of finding his briefs hot.

“how long have you known?” you whisper, the bright red stain on your cheeks fading away. holding his chin between your thumb and index finger.

“i don’t know, i guess when we were having lunch this one time at that fancy place near us. that was the first time i caught you. so maybe a month ago?” his gaze is soft with a hint of playfulness.

“well, there goes my secret, i guess.” a pout forms on your face and all mingyu can do is lean in for a kiss. it’s not rushed, it’s the kind that says i love you. you can feel yourself melt into him as he takes one hand from your waist and places it onto your cheek. both of your arms wrap around his neck to pull him even closer than he was before.

“doesn’t mean i’m gonna stop doing it though.” you break away from the kiss momentarily to say to him. you shoot him a naughty look that he’s all too familiar with.

“that’s my girl.” he replies, leaning in for another kiss.

so this was completely self indulgent, and the first thing i’ve written. this was supposed to be like a 200 word blurb MAX but i got carried away :<

anyways, please enjoy <3

[more-hysteria-things]

BEGGING FOR SOME LIKE JACK FLUFF FROM LIKE A ROUGH DAY ON SET AND HIM JUST BEING SWEET TO US!! (my first scenario🥳)

ROUGH DAY

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jack champion x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: it’s one of those days on set, and jack is not having it. even worse that it’s his birthday, the day when it’s supposed to be fun and carefree. then, you come along to truly show how much he means to you.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none! just tooth rotting fluff :)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,224

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: FIRST JACK FIC LFG.

also, since this is my other account for non-sturniolo fics i’m still putting the same tag list. if you would like to not get tagged for this blog, just let me know!

shoutout to bbg @venusbabysblog for helping me get started🥹

𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 blessing. it’s a job where you have great opportunities to meet amazing people and be in hit films, but sometimes it’s a struggle. jack opens the door to his trailer with a clenched jaw, shutting the door as he looks around. his eyebrows twitch in confusion, noticing how you’re not in sight.

your boyfriend loves to bring you along to wherever he goes for filming. one reason being that he honestly can’t live without you, but also because you’re his biggest fan and will support him through anything. usually, you’d be watching him act from afar or you’d be waiting in his trailer by watching TV or keeping yourself occupied in general. however, you’re nowhere to be seen.

he’s on a long break until later tonight, which annoys him. he just wants this day to be over. “y/n?” he calls out, peeking his head into the small bedroom. alas, you’re not there.

alarms start to go off in his head, although it’s silly. you can’t really go anywhere, but since you’re not in your usual spot, the caring boyfriend in him makes him worry that something bad has happened. especially since you didn’t text him that you were going somewhere or anything.

then, a giggle is heard along with the opening of his trailer door, and he turns around to face the noise. he takes a small sigh of relief when he sees you beaming from ear to ear holding a present bag.

while in the middle of a scene, jack texted you about the day he’s having—lines he couldn’t nail, and a director who seemed impossible to please. you frown slightly when you see his semi-disgruntled face, shuffling over to him excitedly to wrap your arms around his body in an embrace he desperately needs. he exhales deeply, bends down to nuzzle his face into your neck, and kisses it softly.

“sorry, i was hoping i’d be back before you were, but your mom and i got stuck in traffic,” you say in his chest before pulling away after long seconds. trying to make the atmosphere more positive, you smile and extend your arm with the bag in hand. “happy birthday!”

the smallest smile appears on his face, grabbing your hand to head over to the leather couch to sit down. he places the bag onto the floor, removing the tissue inside of it to reveal his presents. his eyes widen in surprise, seeing more than he thought you’d get him. “you didn’t have to do all of this...” he says, a small blush forming on his cheeks.

he pulls out the first thing that sits on top of the rest, which is a homemade birthday card out of construction paper in his favorite color. he lets out a chuckle as he looks at the front of it, seeing two drawn stick figures that are supposed to be you and him holding hands with the title in big writing: HAPPY BIRTHDAY •ᴗ•

opening the card, there’s a bunch of words scribbled on the right side.

jack,

*queue song* happy birthday to you!

i am so incredibly proud of you watching the way you chase your dreams. here’s to many more birthdays, memories, and quiet moments in between the chaos. no matter how many lights and cameras around, you’ll always just be jack to me. the one who laughs too loud, holds me close, and somehow manages to make me feel like I’m the only girl in the world.

i’m so grateful to be apart of your story.

always, y/n ❤︎

p.s. like what your name implies, you are indeed a champion.

his heart jumps with joy, closing the note and leaning in to peck you on the nose. your face turns red as you try not to beam with happiness, tilting your head to the bag. “there’s still a lot more.”

he nods, placing the card aside as he grabs a leather journal, specifically personalized for him. the border of it is embroidered with eye-catching detail, his initials JC in big cursive letters in the middle. you know jack sometimes likes to scribble lines down in between takes in a way to remember, or something to put his ideas in for fun. he flips through the pages rapidly, the gust of air flowing on his face as he smells the paper and leather mixed.

you watch his every move, nibbling on your bottom lip excitedly when he pulls out a small, navy blue box. inside of it is a chained necklace with a small pendant of a waxing crescent. the moon phase the day he was born.

scratching the back of your neck nervously, you speak. “this one’s a little girly…” you trail off. “you don’t have to wear it, you can hang it up or something for decoration. i just thought it was pretty.”

he nudges your arm with his elbow. “stop that. it’s beautiful; i love it.”

jack carefully takes it out of the box, undoing the chain and reaching behind his neck to clip it. the length is perfect, and the accessory oddly suits him. “thank you.” he says softly, running his hand over the moon and reaching into the bag once more.

this time, he pulls out two things. another book along with a film camera on top of it tied in ribbon so both items can stick together. while untying it, he notices the scrapbook underneath.

THE STORY OF US…

he glances at you as he starts to look into it. the pages are filled with film photos, ticket stubs, and little mementos from your favorite times together. you’d written little captions under each, capturing inside jokes and sweet moments. it was something he could flip through on hard days.

however, each left page is blank. “you can add to it whenever you have the time. it takes two people to make a love story, you know.” you explain, feeling somewhat cheesy and cringy at the saying, but you mean it.

last but not least, the last few items are snacks. homemade cookies, energy bars, and even a small container of his favorite food.

he feels overwhelmed by all of the gifts but in a good way. nobody has ever shown him this much adoration before, and it’s obvious how much he means to you. “y/n.” your name rolls perfectly off of his tongue, his eyes not leaving the presents now scattered on the couch cushion. “i love it all so much. genuinely, thank you.”

you place your hands on the sides of his neck so he can look at you, kissing him full of love. he cherishes you, and he couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend. he’s always so grateful that he met you that time in his hometown. you made his 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐃𝐀𝐘 turn around completely.

“how’d you even do all of this?” he adds, starting to feel dumbfounded about how you did all of this under his nose without him knowing.

“i don’t kiss and tell.” you say with a smirk. “but also with the help of your mom.”

laughing, he grunts as he lays to rest his head on your stomach, your hands finding way into his wavy hair. “i’m so in love with you.” he mumbles, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it.

best. birthday. ever.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @freshsturns @etershine @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws @hoes4matthew @deareststurns @starz4star

[hollowed-theory-hall]

ok since we’re discussing harry’s appearance and you’ve already clarified what you think he looks like from the neck down, now i’m wondering about his face. obviously, the books provide quite a generous description of him — green eyes, black, messy hair, etc — but i’m more curious about whether you envision him as having delicate features? is his face longer and more masculine or a bit more rounded and doll-like? would he be described as being attractive? handsome? beautiful?

since he’s a carbon copy of james, i’d assume that he genuinely is an attractive boy/man, but since we, as readers, see things so much more from his obviously subjective perspective, we also can’t get a very good feel of these things because harry himself isn’t interested in them. and, well, he is quite oblivious to other’s attentions in general.

i’m just curious what your perception of him is from canon, since i’ve seen so so many variations of his character in fanfictions.

Hi 👋,

(Anon is referring to this post regarding Harry's height and physique)

So, we actually have a ton of little details about Harry's facial features in the books. And, contrary to what many characters say, he isn't really a carbon copy of James, especially if he removes his glasses because some of his prominent facial features are described to be Lily's.

Harry is a kid who has his father’s hair, height, and glasses, so when people look at him from afar he looks like his dad. But if you look at him closely, or he removes his glasses, their faces share similarities, sure, but they are nowhere near as similar as you thought they were a moment ago when he had his glasses on. Like, that's how I see it, and the books support this:

It was as though he was looking at himself but with deliberate mistakes.

(OotP)

Harry is one of these kids who's a pretty equal mix of both their parents in his face. So, if he stood next to James, anyone looking would say they look really similar. If he stood next to Lily, they'd say he looked really similar to her (especially without his glasses).

Harry is mentioned to have his mother’s eyes, not just in color, but also in shape:

it was one of the girls from the lake edge. She had thick, dark red hair that fell to her shoulders and startlingly green almond-shaped eyes — Harry’s eyes.

(OotP)

So, Harry has green almond-shaped eyes like Lily. Almond-shaped eyes look something like this, apparently:

We also have details regarding Harry's nose. Since his nose is more similar to Lily's than James', at least, I think so:

his [James] nose was slightly longer than Harry’s

(OotP)

I imagine Harry to have a more button-shaped nose since it's what I imagine for Lily (James has a straighter nose in my mind). I don't have any quotes for the nose shape though, so it's just my headcanon.

What is canon is that Harry's nose is smaller than James' and Ron's.

As for other features of his face:

but they had the same thin face, same mouth, same eyebrows. James’s hair stuck up at the back exactly as Harry’s did, his hands could have been Harry’s

(OotP)

And Harry is consistently described with a thin face:

Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair, and bright green eyes

(PS)

So, from these two quotes, we can compose the rest of Harry's face shape (sorta). So Harry has a thin face, thin faces usually look more elongated. I assume his jaw is sharper than Lily's since he takes after James there.

We know his mouth and eyebrows are shaped like James', but I couldn't locate other quotes that were more specific, I take it to state his lips are on the thinner side, and his eyebrows are more masculine in shape since it's what I assume about James' appearance.

Now, I know some of the fandom headcanons Harry as not white, but I personally don't think it's the case in the books. JKR mentions very clearly when a character isn't white, with the expectation that any character that isn't given an ethnicity would be assumed white. It's how she writes, and you can say what you will about that, but it's not what I'm talking about. Additionally, contrary to popular belief, Harry's skin color is mentioned in the books to be white and pale (so is Hermione's actually).

I found a few quotes that outright mention Harry being pale, and therefore, white (this isn't an exhaustive list):

“Harry, dear, are you sure you’re all right?” said Mrs. Weasley in a worried voice, as they walked around the unkempt patch of grass in the middle of Grimmauld Place. “You look ever so pale... Are you sure you slept this morning? You go upstairs to bed right now, and you can have a couple of hours’ sleep before dinner, all right?”

(OotP)

“Are — are you sure you’re okay, Harry? You’re still very pale...”

(OotP)

Their eyes met over the basin, each pale face lit with that strange, green light. Harry did not speak. Was this why he had been invited along — so that he could force-feed Dumbledore a potion that might cause him unendurable pain? “You remember,” said Dumbledore, “the condition on which I brought you with me?”

(HBP)

Both Harry and Dumbledore are mentioned to be pale-skinned.

The word "pale" is used by JKR to describe skin quite often, and even when someone is "pale" when they are scared or stressed, it's because their skin is pale. I haven't seen her use the word for any of the dark-skinned characters (Like Dean Thomas, who was shown to be scared on occasion, but never described as "pale"). Besides being described as "pale", Harry's face is described as white on occasion as well:

Harry had gone very white. As soon as he found his voice he said, “Blown up? You told me they died in a car crash!”

(PS)

Breathing very fast, he turned slowly back to the mirror. There he was, reflected in it, white and scared-looking

(PS)

And considering Tom, who is repeatedly described as very pale and white, says:

We even look something alike ...

(CoS)

It's clear Harry looks very English, and therefore, very white. I'd go further and say he's likely quite pale considering how often he is mentioned to be pale + his resemblance to Tom. You can obviously headcanon whatever you want, I'm not stopping you, I'm just saying what the canon is.

I'd note that in general, Harry is pretty handsome and good-looking. In books 5 and 6, he's mentioned to be of interest to many girls, among them the good-looking and popular ones (even if he doesn't realize they are good-looking). Being the Boy Who Lived, rich, and famous gets some of this attention too, yes, but Hermione tells him the fact he is hot helps. Which it does:

“Oh, come on, Harry,” said Hermione, suddenly impatient. “It’s not Quidditch that’s popular, it’s you! You’ve never been more interesting, and frankly, you’ve never been more fanciable.” [...] “And it doesn’t hurt that you’ve grown about a foot over the summer either,” Hermione finished, ignoring Ron.

(HBP)

I know she just mentions he's tall (Ron is there, after all), but the implication is that he's hot and has no idea.

Besides, both James and Lily are described as good-looking by various characters, JKR said of James: "James was reasonably good looking, though not as good looking as Sirius" and considering Sirius is one of the most attractive characters in the series, this is one hell of a compliment. As Harry is a decent mix of both their features, he is likely good-looking. He probably looks pretty cute as a tiny, scrawny kid with bright eyes, and he grows to be more handsome and attractive as he grows. Like, I don't think that many girls would be interested in him in 6th year if he wasn't also handsome, so Hermione is right. Harry isn't as smoking hot as Sirius or Tom Riddle, but he is still very good-looking.

[carlsangel]

friendly spirit (g.i.t.w, ch.1)

carl grimes x fem!reader

warning: mentions of death.

masterlist here!

other chapters here!

Carl never lost hope. Even after the prison, terminus and the church. He knew there was something for the group out there. He was probably the most hopeful out of everyone. He always wanted to keep going, he motivated everyone. It’s definitely something he’d gotten from his dad. Alexandria was exactly what he’d hoped for. At least from what he’d heard from Aaron.

Staying in a barn that smelt like horse shit was something he’d unfortunately considered before Aaron had arrived. That morning, seeing Aaron arrive through the barn doors almost made him smile. Between arguing with his dad that Alexandria was a good fit for the group and trying to back Michonne up on the same argument, he didn’t get much sleep. The entire car ride there, Rick had a plan.

He would discuss it with them over and over, going over every possibility. That’s why, when he and the others got out of the vehicles and he saw you, he thought he was imagining it. He saw you, a girl who’d climbed a tree from what it seemed like. Eugene walked past him and when the large black mullet was out of his face, you were gone. Maybe you were apart of Alexandria.

He heard children laughing and people talking. He knew this was the right place. For him, and for Judith. He sort of knew that he was the reason they needed a settlement at all. Maybe the rest of them would’ve given up at this point. Maggie had lost Beth, Sasha lost Tyreese, Daryl lost Merle ages ago…but they still stuck around. He thinks it’s because they had a sliver of hope. Hope because him and Judith are still alive.

Seeing the houses in the community sort of healed parts of his childhood. They weren’t the wealthiest of families, he imagined living in houses as big as Alexandria’s for years. He has memories, almost faded of the three of them driving through the neighborhood where all the wealthy people lived, imagining themselves there in the future. Once Rick retired of course.

It felt somewhat ironic to him, the fact that the only chance they were ever given to live in a nice and luxurious house was when the world was on its last legs. He thought a lot. Maybe too much, even in that moment where Aaron was explaining how one of the houses was better than the other, he thought about you. He wondered if you were just his imagination, or maybe you were a threat. He didn’t want to alarm anyone. But he was curious.

He returned to the conversation to hear something about curb appeal. Aaron was about to leave, he’d motioned for the both of them to check the house out but Carl stayed back. He had to talk to Aaron, to make sure he wasn’t insanely tired and you actually did exist.

“Wait— Aaron. Before you go, I just…I saw something earlier. Well someone. I was just wondering if she was apart of the community.” He explained, He described your attributes, the color of your skin and the length of your hair and what you were wearing. He felt like you were too dirty to live here however. “Oh her? Don’t worry, she just lives in the outskirts of Alexandria.” Aaron replies. Carl’s eyebrows knot together in confusion. “And you didn’t tell us? What if she’s a threat?”

Aaron sort of chuckles and it catches Carl off guard. “We call her the ghost in the woods. We’ve had people to go out and look for her…whenever they spot her she disappears quite quick but…we can’t quite seem to catch her.” He explains. Carl still didn’t understand. “She’s not a threat, I promise. Think of her as uhh… a friendly spirit.”

He thinks about that for a moment, Aaron puts his hand on Carl’s shoulder, giving him a content smile before patting it and turning away. He stewed on the idea of you, he seriously doesn’t understand. Why wouldn’t you want to join Alexandria, and why would you choose to live around it? He wanted to see you again. To meet you. He didn’t believe you were some…fairy tale. He needed to see you.

And he did. Right as Aaron walked away, in the distance he could spot you once again in a tree, just watching him. “Aaron?” He calls out, looking over to him for his attention. Once he gets it, he turns to point you out but you’re not there. Shit, now he looks stupid. “I just want to say thank you.” He says this as a cover up, but it was still mostly the truth. “Of course.” Aaron nods.

He finally tears his eyes away from the tree and catches up with his dad. He knew he had to see you, to meet you. That’d be his mission the next couple of days.

─── ⋆⋅ ꒰ა 𐚁 ໒꒱ ⋅⋆ ───

Meanwhile you’d just descended the tree. You’d walk off your small campsite which was almost never permanent. The woods surrounding Alexandria was large. Perfect for you. You hated being confined to just one area. Especially because you hate to be attached to things.

The first rule to the apocalypse is to not get attached. You found that out the hard way. Many times. Your first home, your dad, your sister. You lost everything. All you had was their belongings. Your sister’s bracelet, your dad’s bag, and his rifle. You were in fact attached to their belongings but you knew if they weren’t in your possession, you were most likely dead.

You never intended on interacting with the people of Alexandria, you just liked the security of being outside the walls. You had precaution without technically having it. If it came down to it, you knew where to go. Not to mention sometimes the civilians would leave food for you. At first it felt dehumanizing, like they were leaving food out on the porch for a fucking raccoon.

But it was fine. You were perfectly fine on your own. Sometimes it got lonely..but you’d just occupy your time listening to music with a walkman your dad gifted you before the start or reading books you found in old cabin remains and such. You’d even watch over Alexandria. Except recently things have been especially frustrating. The rifle’s been getting jammed and the batteries in your walkman have been dying quicker than usual. You’d stop listening until you really needed it. You were yearning for something new. Anything.

But soon, a new and large group would arrive. You’d watch over Alexandria often, you knew almost everyone but not one on one. You liked the reputation you upheld there. It was like knowing everyone without having to really know them. No chance to get attached. You now had a new group of personalities to dissect. At least, all the way from the trees surrounding the walls.

You took note of all of them. More importantly, the one who noticed you first.

Carl.

i hope you liked itttt there’s more coming!

tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh @callsignwidow @lilyglasergrimes @smollbean42905 @deadgirlwalkingx @txrasbae @lalaloopsie12309 @crusadecherryblossom @violetashfall @zombiigrll @amanita-raine

[mr-butter-face]

I've already expressed my adoration of both designs of Telltale's Joker. But I just want to break down why they're so appealing to me.

In the game, John Doe goes through huge changes in his life that are expressed in his wardrobe. But the most dramatic change is at the last episode of the series. When he fully transforms into Joker.

Brian Matyas is a concept designer who had worked on both Batman Telltale games. He had posted some of his works on Artstation and Instagram.

[Brain Matyas Instagram Post]

https://www.instagram.com/p/BhucYx5lGCb/?img_index=1

(I suggest you read the entire post till the end.)

[John Doe]

As the game progresses in the story, players will probably take note of how John's wardrobe goes through the most changes compared to everyone else. But the key thing to note that stayed consistent in each episode was his half-fast way of buttoning/tucking-in his shirt and how progressively colorful his outfit was getting.

[Villain Joker]

There's a lot of things to break down about this outfit. First, Brian Matyas stated that Villain Joker was molded primarily by Bruce Wayne. Not Batman. Joker's business tie and fancy suit's purpose was to emulate Bruce's public persona of being a CEO (or, more simply, a person with power). Interestingly enough, Joker's gloves are basically the same kinds that Harley wears in game, as if it were to say now they're equals in their relationship (but obviously they're not). I've heard from others that gloves are symbolic of secrets, which describes how Joker has kept some information hidden from Harley.

The Villain Joker design is probably the most colorful one. His bright green hair, the 80 carpet patterns in his navy suit, the pop of hot pink, and the most disgusting looking dress-shirt I've ever seen. Jack Nicholas' influence isn't lost on me. This outfit screams bold and confident, and most importantly, free.

There are still elements of John Doe. The poorly done tucking and buttoning of Joker's shirt are there. But strangely enough, the strain of hair in front of his head is flipped. John’s was located on the right side while Joker purposely flipped it to the left. And that's not the only thing that's flipped. John's outfit consisted of a purple vest inside and a green/teal shirt outside. Now the pattern is switched with Joker, green shirt inside and dark navy suit outside. Subtle differences like this are led to believe that Joker wants Bruce Wayne to know that he's completely different from John Doe.

The last thing to talk about is his shaved eyebrow. I have no idea why he would do that. People have said it's because he wanted to express how much damage Bruce did to him. Personally, I thought it was like ‘girls making bad hair decisions after a breakup’ thing.

Although his design encompasses both Bruce Wayne and Harley Quinn's impact on his life. It's more leaning into Bruce.

[Vigilante Joker]

There's something about this design that always makes me feel so heartbroken. Not because it's a bad design but because of how much it reminds me how John had faith that if he lived up to Batman's standards that he would be able to maintain their friendship.

Brian Matyas said that he wanted the Vigilante Joker's silhouette to emulate Batman's. It's shown by how his hair and shoulders are curved to a point. Joker's makeup is a lot more gothic and is a lot more menacing than Villain's makeup. It also almost resembles the mask that typically Robin would wear.

Again, there are still elements of John Doe present here. But they are less noticeable than Villain's. Joker's left arm has stitches, (John has been seen wearing a vest that has a different color button then the rest) his shirt's collar isn't properly folded correctly, (John is practically never seen to maintain his dress-shirt collar properly) and he still keeps his vest unlike Villain route. (Although like Villain, there is a color swap with the green shirt and purple vest)

But one thing that jumps out to me is how dull in vibrate color he is compared to Villain Joker's or even John Doe's fourth episode outfit. I had to brighten up my screen in order to identify the smile patterns in his suit. Vigilante design is flashy, but it feels like he's being held back from fully expressing himself.

Joker never really understood Batman's moral code. For players to unlock the Vigilante route, they had to enable John's more violent tendencies. So his outfit only reflects the darker side of Bruce Wayne because that's what Joker believes to be what Batman wants from him.

Huge thanks to hemfbg. They were able to locate both Joker's concept art from Brian Matyas' Instagram.

[Hemfbg Telltale Community Post]

https://community.telltalegames.com/discussion/121009/concept-art-by-brian-matyas

[dead3ve]

tasm!Peter Parker x shy!fem!reader

Summary: After Peter fails English, the teacher pairs him with the English whiz of the class. They, however, are very shy. After several lessons with them, Peter has only just started to gain full sentences from them, but has been pining over them for much longer.

Warnings: Reader uses they/them pronouns. no use of y/n.

Peter was meant to be reading.

He wasn't. He was staring. Listening to their fingers clack on the laptop in front of them.

They turned to him suddenly, seeing the book disregarded underneath Peter's chest as he leaned his head on his hands to look at them.

"Did you finish reading?" They asked, eyes still on the screen of the laptop. They spoke quieter than usual because the pair were in the library. It was unnecessary to Peter; they were already very quiet.

Peter couldn't even find it in himself to lie to them. He opened his mouth to answer and then closed it and opened it again. He released a guilty, breathy chuckle as he shook his head.

"I got halfway; I think." Peter spoke with a laugh still. His neck was warm in embarrassment for being caught ogling the girl.

The girl smiled at him, not minding that he didn't read the work. They passed him their notes and took his book and circled where he was going wrong and provided tips for where he went wrong. They gave Peter their book, hoping he would understand having all the information in front of him. The text was a difficult read. Even for the girl when they were sat next to such a pretty boy.

Peter hadn't really comprehended anything from the girl's book.

There were pretty arrows in all different colors and words that had bubbles and clouds drawn around them. He hadn't even read the summary they had written on the next page. The swirl of their 's' and the curve of their 'o' had made him flustered and distracted.

The girl looked back up once they were ready to give Peter's book back.

"Here." They'd closed the pages over their thumb so Peter could take the book and find the page. Peter liked that. "Tell me what that's about, Peter." They'd asked softly.

"Hm?" Peter looked at them after taking his book back. He gave theirs back gently before he could fake an answer. "It's about people..." He began. Peter then trailed off and looked back down at his pages.

Peter had the same swirls of color and words over his book now. He smiled as he looked at the pages, turning a slight pink in the cheeks. They were somewhat simpler than their notes. They had made it easier for him to understand.

"Anything else, Peter?" The gentle voice interrupted his internal monologue of "I love you".

He looked up at them like a deer in headlights. Suddenly, he had to ask a very important and academic question, so the deer-like daze was broken and turned into a charming smile.

"I think this would be easier if we did it at my place." Peter spoke in a whisper. He lowered his head to meet theirs when they looked away after the flirty statement.

The girl went red. Heat was warming their face from Peter's gaze and smile. They crossed their legs and looked at their laptop. "If I look at Peter for one more second, I think I'll faint." They thought to themself.

Peter mistook it for something else. Something negative and hurtful.

"I didn't mean it like that." He spoke quickly. "I meant so we could do the work at my place." He had taken their hand by that point. Squeezing it in reassurance.

That had disappointed the girl.

"Oh." They released the small noise sadly. "Okay" they closed their laptop and rested their head on their hand that wasn't in Peter's grip. Their eyebrow had knitted together slightly.

Peter's other hand found their face and his thumb met the middle of their brow and softly smoothed it. He didn't think he had flirted that badly.

"If you want, we can ditch the English work and watch a movie." Peter leant down again to meet their gloomy eyes as he whispered to them. The next part was spoken as if it was only for them to hear, "I asked because I thought you liked me..." he was growing quieter in his admission and he broke eye contact with them, growing nervous.

"I do!" They admitted it too loudly, with urgency and surprise. People in the library gave them dirty looks. The silent girl had broken broken the silence. They admitted it quieter the second time, saying, "I like you..." The girl searched for his eyes desperately, "Do you like me, Peter?"

He flicked his head up so urgently, his neck must've hurt. "Yes!" He spoke with a smile drowning the word. Peter squeezed the hand he was holding.

Suddenly, he stood from the table and started to pack up his things, packing them without care, scrunching things into his bag.

The girl was confused. They'd both just told each other they had feelings for one another. Why was this his reaction?

Peter had moved to packing their things, this time with gentle hands. He knew where all of their pencils, pens and highlighters went in their pencil case. He closed their laptop and put it into their case. That was when he looked up at the girl.

"What movie will it be?" He asked. He hadn't realised why the girl had stopped. He was so innocently unaware of the gravity his admission had on the girl.

"You like me, Peter." They were telling themself rather than Peter. They needed the confirmation more. Someone as kind as him had fallen for someone as quiet as them. They needed Peter to show them.

At that, Peter realised his fault. He put down their laptop that was now safely in its flowery laptop case. Peter brought his left hand to their cheek and lightly dragged his thumb across their cheekbone. His right hand had caught their hand and brought their knuckles to his lips.

He then whispered into their hand "I do." He pressed his lips again to their hand Peter then went back to packing their bag. "What was the movie?"

[taexoxosgf]

seeing brother’s best friend!jisung after three years

goes with the one-shot : do it again

— decided to post other parts of the full fic in blurbs/drabbles! i was cringing rlly bad rereading so i might tweak some parts

“Y/n?”

Expecting your brother, you’re face-to-face with Jisung. Your brother’s best friend.

While your older brother decided to attend college near home, Jisung studied abroad in Europe. You hadn’t heard from him in three years. It was almost as if he disappeared from existence, but, you think again. He shouldn’t hinder your thoughts because he isn’t your best friend, he is your brother’s– a person who did not owe you an explanation, a call, or anything, really.

“Jisung... What a pleasant surprise,” you blurted out, hoping to avert from your surprised expression.

The smirk that adorned his face gave notice of a new piercing at the corner of his lips. You just then realize how different he looks at first glance. Of course, his growth from adolescence was during high school and you had taken notice. But standing in front of you in the current time, he looks like the same Jisung you knew but maybe a tad taller, sporting tighter clothing, and toned arms– your eyes eventually travel down to his fingertips where you notice thick rings and a flashy tennis bracelet. And his hair. In high school, Jisung repeatedly destroyed his hair with bleach, occasionally adding some ginger or pink into the mix. But now, it returned to the original charcoal black color you always tried to persuade him to re-try.

“You’re staring,” he teases, resting an arm against the door frame.

God, he’s hot. This is so not good for your mental health.

“Just was expecting Taeyong. Caught me off guard,” you cross your arms.

Jisung rolls his eyes, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “You’re saying you look at Ty like that? I gotta tell him to stay away from you,” he jokes.

“Shut up, you’re disgusting,” you grimace.

“Actually, I think calling professionals will solve this problem,” he pulls out his phone, pretending to dial a number.

“You’re so annoying. Gimme that before I smack you with it,” You hurdle forward to grab the phone, but he beats you to it, holding it behind his figure. At the door frame now, shoulder to shoulder with Jisung– You’re a lot closer to him than you realized, slightly tilting your head up to look at him, and he merely looks down at you.

You really couldn’t move your feet. Both of you just stay in that position, unable to break the ice.

After what feels like a million light years, Jisung is the first one to slice through the silence.

“It’s been a while huh?”

It’s so sudden, like a smack in the face. Of course, it’s been long. But did he just notice? Did he just remember that his best friend has a sister he used to know? There’s a weird feeling in your chest at the statement because something that you occasionally reminisce about is just background noise in his life.

You just nod. “Yeah, it has.”

“I would lie and say you look the same as when I left but you look different,” he says as his low tone fills the air. Jisung only stares at you with a gaze you can’t quite comprehend. You don’t recall him ever looking at you this way.

You tilt your head to the side slightly and crinkle your eyebrows in an attempt to understand the curveball he had just thrown.

“Well, I hope that’s a good thing. If you’re here to insult me after three years, then you have something comin’ for you Park.”

“It is,” his orbs flicker around your face.

The silence is too uncomfortable for you to handle and the only excuse you can think of is: “It’s nice seeing you again Jisung, but I need you to start getting the boxes out of my car while I say hi to my parents and Taeyong.”

“Wow,” he chuckles. “It's been three years and the first thing you do is boss me around. I can’t say I haven’t missed that,” he says as he brushes past you in the doorway.

“Oh, are you saying you missed me?” you cross your arms once more, turning around to look at him.

He opens the driver door, crossing his arms against his chest before leaning against the car.

“You have no idea.”

[horoscope1078]

It was one of those rare nights during summer break when everything seemed perfect. The warm air, the thrum of the city nightlife and the excitement of being out with your best friend, Ruben, gave you an electric buzz before you even set foot inside the club. Ruben had just finished a long, grueling season with Manchester City and you could tell he was more than ready to let loose.

"Finally, a night where you aren’t thinking about tackles and clean sheets!" you teased as the two of you walked into the upscale club, the music already pulsing around you. The moment you stepped inside, the energy was contagious. People were dancing, laughing, drinks in hand and the lights bounced off the walls in a dizzying array of colors.

Ruben grinned at you, his dark eyes twinkling mischievously. “Hey, I can think about more than football, y’know.”

“Oh really?” you shot back, playfully nudging his arm. “Because last time I checked, all you talked about were formations and ‘shutting down the opponent’s offense.’ ”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Tonight’s different. No football. Just fun.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that a promise?”

“That’s a guarantee.” he replied, grabbing your hand and leading you straight to the bar. “First round’s on me. Let’s get this night started properly.”

The next few hours flew by in a haze of drinks, laughter and dancing. Ruben, despite his towering presence on the football pitch, was surprisingly light on his feet and the two of you quickly found your rhythm on the dance floor. He spun you around, his grin wide as you laughed, feeling carefree and completely in the moment. The alcohol loosened your inhibitions and soon enough, you were moving closer to him, your bodies brushing against each other as you danced to the beat of the music.

At one point, you leaned into him, your mouth close to his ear so he could hear you over the loud music. “You’re not bad at this, Dias. Almost as good as you are at defending.”

He smirked, his hands resting casually on your waist as you danced. “I could say the same about you. But I’ll bet I’m better.”

You narrowed your eyes playfully. “Better at what? Dancing?”

“Anything.” he said, the challenge in his tone impossible to ignore. “You name it.”

“Oh really?” you said, your competitive side flaring up. You’d known Ruben long enough to know he couldn’t resist a good bet. “Alright, tough guy. Let’s make it interesting.”

“I’m listening.” he said, leaning in, his breath warm against your ear.

You grinned, already feeling the thrill of the challenge. “Let’s bet on something and the loser has to give the other a private striptease.”

Ruben’s eyes widened slightly in surprise but then he burst out laughing, the sound deep and rich. “You’re joking, right?”

You shook your head, holding his gaze. “Nope. I’m dead serious.”

He looked at you, clearly intrigued. “Ok.. but what are we betting on?”

You glanced around the club, trying to come up with something on the spot. Your eyes landed on the dance floor. “First one to get someone’s phone number. And it can’t be from someone we already know.”

Ruben raised an eyebrow, clearly confident. “Alright. You’re on. But don’t get mad when you lose.”

You smirked. “We’ll see about that.”

With the bet set, you both headed in opposite directions, scoping out the crowd. The alcohol had given you a good buzz and though you were feeling confident, you knew Ruben was charismatic and charming enough to make this bet interesting. Still, you weren’t about to go down without a fight.

You moved through the crowd, chatting briefly with a few people but nothing that led to an immediate phone number. You kept glancing over your shoulder, trying to see how Ruben was doing but you couldn’t spot him in the sea of people. Time was ticking and you were starting to feel the pressure.

Suddenly, you spotted a guy standing by the bar, looking relaxed and approachable. You struck up a conversation, keeping it light and casual and within minutes, he was handing you his phone to put your number in. Success!

Grinning, you thanked him and quickly made your way back to the dance floor, looking for Ruben. You found him standing near the edge of the floor, his arms crossed, a knowing smirk on his face.

“Well?” you asked, trying to keep the excitement out of your voice. “How’d it go?”

He held up his phone, showing a new contact saved in his phone. “Easy as pie.”

You groaned dramatically, though part of you wasn’t surprised. “Ugh.. I was so close!”

He chuckled, stepping closer to you, his hands once again finding their place on your waist as the two of you resumed dancing. “Looks like you lost, amiga.”

You bit your lip, trying to think of a way out of it but you knew there was no escape. “I guess a bet’s a bet.” you sighed, your voice teasing.

Ruben’s grin widened. “Don’t worry. I won’t hold you to it. I know it was just a joke.”

But now, you weren’t so sure you wanted it to be. Maybe it was the alcohol or the way he was looking at you but suddenly, the idea didn’t seem so ridiculous. You leaned in, close enough that your lips almost brushed his ear. “What if I don’t mind?”

You felt him stiffen slightly against you, his hands tightening on your waist. “Are you serious?”

You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, your heart racing a little. “I mean.. you did win.”

For a moment, the playful atmosphere between you shifted. The tension that had been building all night seemed to reach a peak as he looked down at you, his expression caught between surprise and something else, something deeper. His hand slid up to the small of your back, pulling you closer until there was barely any space between you.

“Careful what you’re offering.” he murmured, his voice low and teasing but with an edge of seriousness.

You swallowed, feeling the heat of his body against yours, the music pounding around you, making everything feel more intense. “I can handle it.” you said, trying to sound braver than you felt.

Ruben chuckled softly, his breath warm against your skin. “I don’t think you know what you’re getting into.”

Before you could respond, he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered “Maybe we should head back and settle this bet in private.”

Your pulse quickened at his words and suddenly, the playful bet didn’t feel so lighthearted anymore. You glanced up at him, meeting his gaze and the look in his eyes made it clear, this night was about to take an unexpected turn.

[bemysinphony]

My pretty girl

pairing: txt yeonjun x f!reader

genre: os, au, (very sweet) smut

summary: you're working on your insecurities about your body and your boyfriend has been playing a key role in it, helping in making you feel loved, comfortable, and grateful most of all.

warnings under the cut!

warnings: reader is insecure about her body – particularly her thighs, yj's lips have a central role in this 🤚, cunnilingus (ofc), fingering, pet names (baby, sweetheart, pretty girl, love), praising – yj's has a praising kink (ofc), both reader and yj's love language is words of affirmation <3

word count: 1,5k

notes: guess who's back with a fic!! unbelievable i know 🙃 this is very sweet and soft as always but also self-indulgent and vulnerable..where's my partner that's gonna love me, desire me and cherish me like yeonjun does with y/n?! 😓hope you enjoy <3

just a quick disclaimer that the third picture in the moodboard above is not the most fitting for reader's body type but it's the only one i could find that almost perfectly represented the image in my mind while i was writing, so i went for it 🙏

Your hands are on his shoulders, pushing him down until he sits on the edge of the bed. He immediately spreads his legs to make room for you and his hands caress your hips inviting you in. You take the opportunity instead to bring your knee to his crotch, applying a slight pressure. Slight, but enough to make him delightfully groan for you.

"I love your sounds" you whisper, teasingly tracing his collarbones with your fingertips, your other hand resting on his thigh to keep you balanced as you lean over him.

He's trying to calm down his already labored breath, his hungry gaze on your mouth further confirming his desires. His left hand reaches for your face, bringing you closer to him again. "You and your gorgeous lips...", with his thumb he brushes the skin.

"Yours are definitely prettier than mine" your eyebrows furrow, "I've nerver saw a man with lips this pretty in my life" you insist, caressing them too with the tips of your fingers, bewitched by their natural color and puffyness.

He blushes, even the tips of his ears are turning red. He hopes that the almost darkness of the room hides it but, as soon as your smile gets wider, he knows you definitely noticed. It's not his fault he loves praise so much, he really can't help it, it makes the butterflies in his stomach turn into a rousing tornado.

"Well, I don't agree with your first statement... but it feels good knowing you think that." He doesn't leave you time to complain, finally capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss.

Your hands slide up to his face, fingers playing with his velvety lobes turning him on even more while you bite and suck on his lips.

The urge to feel his skin on yours is growing by the second and he's clearly feeling the same way, confirming it by grabbing your hips to pull you forward. He's been trying not to seem as disperate as he in fact is, but he can't take it anymore. Turning your shared needs into words, he whispers, "I need you closer..."

"Me too..." you nod breathing heavily, "can I get rid of these?" you ask playing with the button of his pants.

"Yeah, please" he rises his hips to help you remove them, biting his lip when you graze his bulge.

Once he guides you to sit on his lap, the fabric of your dress rises, revealing most of your thighs in all their glory. They are so cute and soft that he'd like to bend over and pepper them with kisses right away. Instead he strokes them, triggering chills all over your back. "So pretty..."

Your cheeks heat up, embarrassed because you're still somewhat insicure of them, yet pleased he's able to help you feel more comfortable in your own skin. To thank him, you slowly start to roll your hips against his, making him unable to keep his moans from escaping his lips. He can't believe you're already making a whimpering mess out of him and nothing really happened yet. Moving on to cupping your ass cheeks and playing with the hems of your panties, he speaks his mind again: "I want to eat you out so bad... can I?"

Your heartbeat quickens, filling your ears and your chest, and you can feel it in your stomach as well, right were it meets the pulsations of your core.

"Please do it."

"Yeah?" He giggles at the urgency of your tone. "Are you comfortable with that?" He's surprised by how sure you are about it this time.

"Absolutely, yes, mmh mmh" you stroke the nape of his neck and give him a reassuring smile.

You're tired of shying away from something you want more than just from time to time. You saw and heard multiple times the way he feels about your body, you know it's all in your head, you want to stop depriving yourself of pleasure because of insecurities.

He gets up holding your legs - that immediately wrap around his waist - and gently lays your back on the mattress. "Tell me if you feel uncomfortable, alright? Anytime you can stop me" he makes sure, eyes looking straight into yours.

"Yeah" you nod and take a deep breath, "I promise".

He pushes the hem of the dress up to your lower stomach and starts peppering kisses all over it, making you giggle. Discending to the the front of your thighs, he leaves some kitten licks on the flush skin. "My pretty girl" he mutters against it.

You keep your hands over your mouth, losely closed in fists, hypnotised by the view of his plump lips coming in contact with your body. Your is heart in your throat, anticipating his next move.

When his eyes flutter open, he takes in your rosy cheeks and your sparkling eyes before staring into them again. "Are you okay with me going on?"

"I am" you breathly confirm, "one hundred percent."

"Good, just promise me you're going to let me hear all your lovely sounds too" he asks referencing your hands, shooting you a wink. A warm smile spreading in between your cheeks, you assure him you will.

He slowly slides your panties down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to his gaze. Once again the look he gifts you is eager, and it fills your chest with confidence. His hands are now sprawled on your thighs, gently spreading them apart. He wastes no time and lowers his face closer to your heat, his warm breath fanning over your glistening lips. He's only giving you some experimental licks but you're already blissfully moaning. "J-junnie give me more please, I need more" you beg him even though you know you don't have to get what you want: Yeonjun is always ready to fulfill your desires, no matter how small or big they are.

He looks up smirking before starting to give attention to your neglected bud above, alternatively sucking and drawing little circles with his skilled tongue. When he detaches his lips for a second to breathe, he notices you clenching and your arousal gushing out, and he can't help but growing harder in his boxers. "Fuck baby, you are so hot..."

"ah- I am actually... can you help me get out of this dress?" you jokingly answer surprising him.

"Sure" he chuckles moving closer to help you carefully pull it off your head. He's so glad you felt comfortable enough to wear it to dinner that night. You looked absolutely beautiful with the smooth fabric hugging your curves in all the right ways. That dress was basically made for you to wear, it would have been a shame for if to keep staying in your closet forever, waiting for the day you will finally wear it like you always dreamed of. The last thing he wanted though was for you to feel pressured: "trust me when i say you're breathtaking in it, but i don't want to you to force yourself to wear it if you don't feel like it, sweetheart", he told you the day you decided to try it once again while you where reorganising your closet. It took you some time to finally wear it in public, but the day came, and he was so glad he got to experience seeing your face light up with joy and relief when you looked at yourself in the mirror and liked how you looked. Step by step, day by day, you've come so far and he was so proud of you.

With the fabric gone, he happly admires the view in front of him: your hair scattered on the comforter framing your crimson cheeks, the delicate plush skin of your breasts gathered in your lovely lacy bra, your cute soft belly, the tender curve of your hips... no amount of "pretty, gorgeous, lovely, hot" is ever going to be enough to emphasize how beautiful you are to his eyes, so he decides to show you. He returns to his previous ministrations, dividing his attention to different parts of your body: his mouth on your core, his right fingers tickling your entrance - it doesn't take much before they slip inside hitting your velvety walls just right - while his left hand strokes your thigh, reaching to cup one of your breasts moments later.

All type of sounds can't stop falling out of your mouth, the pleasure spreading and reaching every single corner of your body. Every time he groans, the vibrations he produces brings you closer to the edge. Your heart is galloping in your ribcage, you ask yourself if he's able to hear it too.

"You taste so good sweetheart" he savours, "it's never enough".

As you come undone, your hands run to his, busy massaging your breasts, squeezing it while a trail of his repeated name - "jun, jun, jun, oh my god" - leaves your lips.

"My sweet baby, you did so good, look at you" he praises massaging your shaking hips. "Did you enjoy it?" despite the clear reaction of your body, he wanted to hear you say it.

"A lot...", you smile contently, "thank u love". You reach for his shoulders, inviting him to come closer and hug you, and when your arms fold around him, holding him tightly to your warm chest, he swears his heart could burst.

He looks up at you, his juicy lips glistening with traces of your arousal, looking incredibly inviting. He starts licking them and immediately catches the disappointed expression on your face: he rushes to your own mouth to share a kiss and let you taste yourself on his.

"Better?" he asks.

"Yeah" you answer.

You're smiling to yourself, asking how the hell were you so lucky to find someone that's truly head over heels for you, that makes you feel so loved and cherished and appreciated. You feel like crying with joy.

"Baby, is everything okay?" His tender voice asks. He noticed your glossy eyes.

"Yeah, i'm just thinking about how lucky i am... to have of you in my life", you say as if it was a stupid reaction he should pay no mind to, running your fingers over your eyelids to quickly chase the tears away. But he stops you, taking your face into his hands and stroking your cheeks lovingly. "Oh sweetheart... me too".

He starts planting a series of soft kisses all over them, letting your tears roll down freely. "You don't even imagine how happy and proud you make me."

feedback is always appreciated, thank u for reading!! <3

[killsaki]

final girl. ☆ surely all the girls being murdered in your town having something that fits your own description is a coincidence… right?

izuku midoriya x female!reader

4k words | part 2 (tbp)

cw/tw : yandere!izu, quirkless/loserboy!izu, stuttering, stalking, drugging, thighfucking, facial, male masturbation, noncon, somnophilia (kinda), alcohol, oc side character, kidnapping, murder (mentions).

“you’re not seriously going out, are you?” comes from your doorway, you turn towards the voice in just enough time to catch sight of your roommate inviting himself into your room, as he always does, before plopping himself down on your mattress.

you sigh before answering, knowing he’s about to spout some of his repetitive nonsense.

“of course i am, fuzen.” he blinks at you with his usual unamused expression, heterochromatic eyebrows slightly raised in a way that you’ve come to learn is a signal for you to ask more about what he’s saying. you take the bait. “but, why do you ask?”

“you’re the target of that serial killer.” you purse your lips at his immediate and dramatic response to stop yourself from laughing, you really shouldn't entertain him all the time. he’s mentioned a few things that could probably cost him his job for disclosing the, in his words, eerie similarities, that you have had with all the victims of recent murders.

it started with things like how they all had your eye color, or that they were all described to have your height and build. you passed those off as generic things, but fuzen didn’t. it spiraled into things as specific as one of them having your hair. well, their hair, but it was the same length as yours, the same color, and her body was found with it styled with the same way that you’d fallen in loved with and wore repeatedly that week. one girl was found with copies of the jewelry that you frequently wore, another even had her nails done almost exactly like your new set.

the longer it went on, the more insistent your roommate became about you listening to what he had to say. but you always changed the subject, figuring that the less you know the easier it’ll be to shake off the cold feeling on your back you sometimes get after leaving the apartment.

“i thought you were a stealth sidekick,” you laugh him off, yet again. ”when did you get demoted to a detective?”

“why does your room feel weird?” he asks suddenly, adjusting his sitting position like he’s been made uncomfortable while he looks around your space. “has someone been in here?”

“uh, yeah, me.” you suck your teeth at him before turning back to your vanity and get back to finishing getting ready.

“why don’t you believe me?” he asks, you can tell he’s a little irritated and it makes you feel bad for always brushing him off.

“‘zen… i know you care about me, i’m sorry.” you meet his gaze in the mirror, finding him already looking back at you. “maybe you’re just overthinking because you care about me?”

he nods slowly, before cracking a grin and shaking his head, “nah, i’m probably just jealous because i don’t have a stalker.” he rolls his neck and you wonder how much truth is in his words. “though i’d probably prefer it without the murder.”

“i don’t have a stalker.” you retort while he chuckles to himself before standing.

“you know,” he stretches his arms, fingertips touching the ceiling as the hem of his shirt lifts to reveal his toned stomach, something you quickly look away from. “that habit of immediately denying stuff that you’re anxious about is gonna bite you in the ass one day.”

his mouth is good at keeping you from being attracted to the rest of him.

“but not today,” you speak matter of fact, “because i do not have a stalker.”

“right, yeah.” he sniggers, clearly not believing a word from you. “didn’t you say you felt like you were being followed home the other night? you should think harder on the description—”

“anyways!” you cut him off, knowing that he’s not going to stop talking unless you make him. sometimes you’re not sure if he actually likes having conversations with you or just the sound of his own voice. “shouldn’t you get back to tying some red thread between the pictures and articles hung up on your wall mr. detective.”

“fuck off.” he flips you off from where he’s now lurking by your dresser, leaning against it as he’s focused on checking his phone. “i know you think i’m joking, but they put me on the west end so i’ll be patrolling over by the party if you–”

“oh! my rides here,” you lie, jumping up to slip past him and out of the conversation. “so, i’ll text you when i make it back home since you’ll be on patrol and i won’t see you again tonight, right?”

“wait!” he calls after you, annoyed by your sudden escape, as you slip on your shoes. “text me if something happens with your ride and i’ll walk you back!”

“bye, fuzen!” you yell back, walking out the door. “love you!”

/// /// ///

maybe… fuzen wasn’t just talking to hear his voice. maybe, there’s a small possibility that you do have a stalker.

you could chalk it all up to your roommate giving you anxiety about the whole situation, or that you’ve had a few too many already. but you can’t deny the fact that from the moment you stepped out of your apartment building until you climbed into your ride’s car, you felt something watching you.

it was a hot gaze, a familiar one. it could’ve been a neighbor, you reasoned to yourself as you waited for kirishima to arrive, and that theory sounded best as you repeated it to yourself at the party, laughing with him and his friends and downing drink after drink. until the chill on the back of your neck reappeared, despite how warm your blood is from the alchol. and no matter how much you looked over your shoulder to try and find some kind of source for it, there just wasn’t anyone there.

“you good?” sero asks when you fail to reply to your name being called.

“huh?” you turn to him to find the whole group looking at you with concern, your face flushes at how ridiculous you must look, being so skittish. “oh, i’m fine,” you force a laugh, hoping it seems genuine. “think i just had a little bit too much.”

“no sweat.” kirishima nods towards the glass door behind him and you try to ignore how sero and denki exchange glances. “let’s go get some air.”

“yeah, okay.” you hope the earth swallows you whole as you follow behind him.

you regret coming, regret not shutting your door while getting ready, regret letting fuzen talk his mouth off at you for so long about it. you’ll chew him out about it tomorrow.

you take a deep breath as you walk out the glass door, kirishima’s large palm rubbing soothingly on your back helps settle the nerves. there’s a comforting warmth that takes over the anxious heat as you lean into him.

“sorry i’m being weird.” you mumble as he guides you into his chest, melting into him and the sound of his steady heart beat.

“you’re fine,” you feel the arm holding his cup raise, the pause between his words meaning his downing the rest of his drink that smells way too strong. “don’t worry about it.”

the two of you sway for a bit, his arms around you and your head on his chest with the muffled music as ambiance.

it could be blamed on the alcohol but in this moment, you’re thankful you have kirishima. thankful for how it took absolutely no time at all for you to get comfortable with him, how it felt like an instant connection when he silently prompted the two of you to play tictactoe in the margine of your notes. something that quickly snowballed from passing messages to walking you back to your dorm, and then hang outs as his frat house.

he’s always offered himself as a stress relief for you, making sure you’re comfortable while you’re with him and pressing you about it any time that you seemed tense. there’s been a few awkward moments where you thought he’d tried making a pass at you but he’s always been quick to clarify. plus he’s so warm, like… really warm. his arms feel like a blanket around you. god, how is someone so big and bulky also so soft? you could probably fall asleep like this, surrounded by him.

“hey.” you’re pulled from your thoughts, and from where you were tucked into him. “you knocking out on me?”

“sorry.” you giggle, at his ever playful expression. “you’re just so comfortable.”

the smirk on his face is a harmless one, you think. and it’s awfully pretty.

“bakugou needs me at the beer pong table.”

“i don’t need you, fucker.” you hear the blonde shout from where he stands at the door. did he yell at him before too? “they just don’t want me to embarrass them by beating their asses by myself.”

kirishima laughs. ”you stayin’ out here?” you hesitate, but nod. you feel better, but the thought of facing his friends again so fast is a little too intimidating. “i wont let anyone come out here and fuck with you.” he squeezes your hip before chasing his friend inside. “come watch me when you’re ready!” the redhead calls to you from where he now hangs out the door, his toothy grin clear as day even from this distance.

you only wave back, your dizziness telling you it’s not a good idea to raise your voice right now.

you let yourself stumble back against the wall before pulling your phone out. you try three times to call fuzen and it immediately cancels before you realize you have no service where you’re standing. you curse under your breath as you push off the bricks and force your legs to carry you around the corner of the house. finally a full bar of service, you have to focus on the blurry phone icon while your thumb finds its way there.

why is everything so hard?

you manage to fumble your phone before you’re able to start the call. it feels like there’s a brick in your skull with how heavy your head becomes as you bend over to reach for the device. just as your finger tips touch your screen, there’s big, rough ones which grab at your hips. you don’t have time to scream before your arm is wound behind your back and used to press you against the brick of the house. you lose any hope of grabbing your phone and yelp as your chest and cheek sting at the harsh contact. your vision spins as you blink in the dim light, you can’t even make out the shape of the person behind you.

”don’t scream.” the stranger speaks in your ear, though slightly muffled, it still makes you freeze all the same. the adrenaline delays the recognition of the cold blade at your back, a knife. how were those girls killed again? you immediately nod, further scraping yours skin against the jagged edges of the brick. fear courses through your veins as he takes hold of your free arm and brings it back with the other, wrapping a large hand around both to keep them in place.

you try to plead with him when his knife moves from your back, the threat of it gone, or maybe all the alcohol making you bold enough to speak.

“i haven’t seen your face.” you whisper, hoping it was low enough for him to allow it. “you don’t have to kill me, you could just let me go.”

“let you go?” he asks, surely it’s your intoxicated mind, but he sounds genuinely confused, almost hurt by your words. “i can’t,” he mutters and you whine as your heart hammers in your chest. “i f-finally have you.” you hear the man sigh behind you before he presses his face into your neck, you can hear the echo in whatever metal he has wrapped over his face as he inhales deep against your skin and your body instantly reacts with chills shooting up your spine. “you smell so good.” he begins to pant as his free hand gropes at your body. “so m-much better than any of them did.”

“please… don’t,” you beg when he reaches your breast, where he squeezes it just enough to hurt before clumsily rubbing his fingers over your nipples through the cloth.

“but i knew you would.” he continues as if you didn’t speak, as if your words don’t matter. “you’re the b-best, the only good one, only you.”

his hand drags from your chest down to your waist where he starts to struggle with your bottoms. and your eyes begin to feel with tears at the inevitable.

“please just let me go.” you try again, hoping for just an ounce of pity. “i really won’t tell anyone.”

“i’m sorry.” his body pressed up against you, shoving you farther into the hard wall, ”i’m sorry, angel,” you finally realize just how much bigger the man is than you. “im just–i can’t stop. i need you.” his grip on your arms disappears as he opts to use his large stature to keep you pinned, with both of his hands to work your bottoms down to your knees before he’s humping against your ass. “i wanted to wait– wanted our first to be special.”

the deadweight feeling at the back of your mind aches to takeover, the dizziness, the fear, the effor it takes for you to just breathe right now it far too much, so you succumb to it all– making you completely helpless. all you can do is stand there and hope he’ll let you go once he’s had his fill. not that it’s easy, there’s bile churning in your stomach when you hear the click of his belt, feel the shuffle of him tugging his own pants down.

you have to bite your cheek to stop yourself from crying when you feel the heat of what has to be his cock prodding between your thighs. the only thing keeping any distance between its heat and your most vulnerable parts is the underwear holding the last bit of your dignity together. but once he wraps his arms around you—which squeeze you so tight you think you’ll burst— and he angles you so your hips stick back enough for him to rub between your thighs while pressing up against your cunt, you’re sure you’ll throw up regardless.

he, however, groans at the contact. “s-so warm.” you can hear him begin to pant as his hips start rhythmically pressing into yours, the force alone enough to jolt your body against the wall. “f-feel so good.” you can taste blood as you hold back your sobs. it feels like an eternity passes, each groan and inhale against your nape makes you more nauseous until your body has had enough.

being pushed too far from the fear, the drinks, and the pain, it causes you to collapse on yourself. everything seems like it fades as you fall slack in the stranger's arms. maybe if you die while unconscious, it’ll be okay. at least you won’t feel the pain.

sounds come in and out like you have bad radio service, your eyes too heavy and body too weak to get a good sense of what’s happening, but you hear—

“t-this? my girlfriend drank too much s-so i’m j-just—“ comes from somewhere around you, somewhere close.

“awww!” you hear, whiney and dragged out from some girl who definitely had more than you tonight. “you’re such a good boyfriend for babysitting.” your heart aches when you try to fight, to move, to scream and you’re far from successful.

“i wish my boyfriend let me drink that much.” if you could just tell one person what’s happening, if you could just show even a little bit of struggle, someone could save you. “you’re even carrying her! so cute!” if someone could just see your face, maybe they’d see that this is not who you arrived with, someone could tell kirishima. “you guys get home safe~!”

you feel like a boulder is set on your chest, the weight of your failure weight bearing on you when everything’s quiet again.

/// /// ///

you don’t know how much time passes before you’re able to bring yourself out of your useless state until you’re finally able to blink your eyes open and take in your surroundings. it’s all blurry at first, but the furniture in your line of sight slowly starts to resemble that of the setup you have in your room. there’s your vanity, your nightstand, this is your comforter, a weak smile works its way onto your lips.

you could cry from the relief. whatever happened, whether it was all a dream or something you won’t be able to remember, you don’t care. you’re home.

you toss your head back into your pillow, taking in a deep breath, catching the smell of what's likely your own sweat before you try to stretch your arms out, the needles stabbing into your hands making you feel the need to shake them to fix your blood flow. but they don’t budge, and the sound of metal clanking makes you shoot your eyes open and then you feel it.

your grogginess to blame for you not being able to the cuffs that encase them before. nor the sinking weight that kneels beside you, a large figure looming over you looking that much more daunting with the light behind him illuminating only his towering figure as he hunches over you, huffing and whining with his cock only inches from your face.

your lips tremble when the false sense of safety washed away and you look up past the movement of his hand, slowly taking in the dark green mess of hair that falls around his face, the chunky metallic mask that causes each of his heavy breaths to be echoed before you meet his eyes, the wide, terrifying green gaze that burns back at you makes you wish you were still unconscious.

“o-oh.” he’s so loud as he shoots out his load across your face and the bare parts of your chest, thick and hot where it lands. you cringe as your name is chanted off his lips and you squeeze your eyes and mouth closed, not wanting to let yourself be any more violated than you already feel. your head pounds as you feel the urge to cry, but you can’t seem to force yourself to.

“i didn’t—i didn’t finish earlier,” you hear him mutter above you, “and it hurt—looking at you,” a hand smoothes along your hairline, making you jump at the contact, and he retracts. “s-sorry… you’re just… so pretty.”

“can i…” he starts and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to answer if he actually asks you a question. “can i take a picture? it’ll only be for me, i promise.”

“please…” your voice is weak and you have to try and gather some spit to swallow to allow yourself any more volume. “don’t…” your request is sure to be ignored, he’s seemed to do whatever else he’s liked.

“you’re r-right,” you feel the mattress rise once he disappears from beside you, “another time.”

you try to test your voice again, you’re not sure how long it’s been since what you can last remember, but if fuzen wasn’t on patrol, he’d be in bed. if only you could scream.

“i’ll clean you up, is that o-okay?” you don’t reply, only tense when the warm cloth wipes at your skin. “sorry, again. i feel like such a pervert.”

you open your eyes again once they’re clean, and staring at your curtains, you try to think. you can’t even speak, can’t move, can’t fight. how long are you going to be so helpless?

“are you okay? i know i probably scared you…” you wish you could scoff. “could you at least look at me?”

you don’t move to face him, not wanting to look into those horrifying eyes again. just the thought of him, next to you now, staring at you with them makes you shudder with fear.

“look at me.” he grips your jaw, reminding you how big his hands are as he forces you to turn towards him. you avoid meeting his gaze. not wanting to know if it’s just as piercing as before, instead, you take in the green mess of curls, how they stick about and fall into his face. you can see him staring at you, but still, skip over making eye contact and make out the freckles at peek out from behind the metallic mask that seems to be slipping, making you close your eyes again.

if there was any small chance of you getting out of here alive, there’s no way you can see his face.

“hey–”

“your mask,” you whisper, and his grip loosens as soon as you speak.

“oh,” he mumbles back. you can hear what you guess is him toying with it, but you realize as you peek up, was him removing it. “guess i don’t need this.”

with his face fully revealed, you can feel yourself sinking into acceptance of your fate.

“you’re staring…” you can visibly see him swallow, his eyes darting between yours and the floor. “am i attractive?” a soft smile grows on his lips at him complimenting himself as if you’d really said it. “i’m happy you think so.”

“i have a roommate,” you speak, voice cracking.

“what?” his eyebrows drawn together, face set in a scowl before he pushes himself from your bed. “you need some water.”

“he’s a hero.” you try again, even as he walks away and you’re sure you’re out of earshot. “a strong one, and he’ll be home soon.” you pick your head up to watch him throw the door open, and all of your hope for your roommate saving you drains as you stare down a hallway that doesn’t belong in your apartment; you’re not home…

if you saw any typos, no you didn’t !!&lt;;33

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