#i DESERVE a good time and - with proper time management - i CAN do it all!

[starbuck]

okay. Just planned out my next two weeks and change and i THINK i will not die!

[luveline]

what if bombshell!reader proposed to Spencer? Instead of Spencer proposing to bombshell!reader? Would he be upset or just as happy? Also, I absolutely adore your writing! 🥰💕

ty for requesting!! —spencer gets a love he deserves, 1.4k, fem!reader

The first proper time that you and Spencer slept together, he wasn’t nervous. It was sort of like a high school sleepover. You’d slept in shared beds in stuffy hotels and he’d once stayed the night while he was too drunk to remember it, but the first time you invited him in with intention to just be together, he wasn’t scared. You remember being surprised. Looking back, you shouldn’t have been. 

You laid together like you are now. He wore a grey t-shirt and a pair of blue chequered pants, and he’d pushed his hair back all day leaving the front pieces limp, and he’d touched your cheek to encourage your face to his before he moved in for one polite kiss. “I love you,” he’d said, much too early and a couple years too late at the same time. 

You turn on your side now to look at him. His contacts are out, his glasses perched on the edge of his nose. He’s watching a video on his laptop and the line of his jaw is soft. Or, softer than usual. He has a very sharp jaw. 

You shift a bit to alleviate the pressure on your hip.

“You okay?” Spencer asks. He doesn’t look away from his laptop nor does he sound tuned in. It’s sort of funny that he manages to care even when he’s not paying attention.

“Yeah.” 

“Tired?” 

“Not really.” 

“Hungry at all?” 

“Just brushed my teeth.” 

“That’s not the question I was asking.” 

“Not hungry, Spencer. Can I watch too?” 

He turns the laptop toward you to the point where his view is obscured, raising the volume a touch. “It’s about Tuberculosis. Do you wanna watch something else?” 

“No, this sounds interesting.” 

He settles in next to you. His fingers brush your chest. For a good forty five minutes, you and Spencer watch the rest of his video. He gets visibly tireder the longer it goes on, but neither of you attempt to get ready to sleep until the video’s finished. He closes the lid of his laptop, twisting in bed to deposit it gently on the floor. There’s a familiar shush of him sliding it under the bed to stop you from standing on it (a learned precaution). 

“Did you take that vitamin, the primrose?” he asks, flicking off his bedside lamp, leaving yours as the only source of light in the entire room. It’s a pink glass shade that kisses his pale skin a rosy hue. 

“Yeah, Spence.” 

He shakes the sheets back and the over you both. One minute you’re apart and the next he’s pulling you into him, confident handed, his breath warming your face as the gap between you thins. Despite his readying, he doesn’t say goodnight, or close his eyes. This is your time now. You often spend time at night just talking to each other about everything you’d meant to say that day, or nonsense conversation, until one or both of you has been lulled into a peaceful sleep. 

“I have something I want to tell you,” you say. 

“Okay.” He sounds completely trusting, no worrying, no reluctance. 

“You remember the first time you stayed at my apartment?” 

“No.” 

“The second time,” you correct. 

“Yes,” he says, grinning. “I was much less intoxicated that time.” 

“You were sober.” 

“I didn’t feel sober,” he says. 

“Nice. You’re getting so good at this.” 

“Thank you.” 

“But do you remember that?” You trace the curve of his nose. He’ll have to take his glasses off soon. They’ve already worn red crescents into his skin. “You told me you loved me.” 

“I can’t forget it,” he says, still grinning. You’ve tried to tell people —idiots— who don’t understand you and Spencer that, even without his million charms and idiosyncrasies, you’d love him for his smile. It changes his entire face. He never looks as beautiful to you as he does when he’s smiling. 

“I didn’t say it back.” 

“We’d only been together for a few days,” he says. “It was one of my moments.” 

“Spencer, I did love you, though. I should’ve told you. I knew in that moment that you really, really meant it, and I just want you to know that when you said it, I could have said it back. I should have. I loved you just as much, I promise.” 

“I know,” he whispers, eyes slightly widened. 

“I think I’ve loved you since the day we met. It’s cliche.” 

“Sometimes things are cliche because they’re good,” he says, laying his cheek more firmly into his pillow as he raises a hand to your face. His thumbs rests in the space under your chin. His fingertips brush along the skin just beside your lips. “And true. I loved you the minute you introduced yourself.” 

You savour the feeling of his hand on your cheek. 

“You’re so handsome,” you say, “and kind. You’re everything to me. You know that.” 

Spencer wraps his arm gently under your chin and behind your head as he lays closer to you. “I know. You’re everything to me. You’re my best friend in the whole world, I– didn’t even know how happy I could be before now.” 

“Me too, baby.” 

He closes his eyes. Your noses touch. 

“Spencer Reid, will you marry me?” you whisper.

Quiet. Aching, total quiet. He curls his arm behind your head until your lips are a hair’s width apart, and when he answers, it’s like he’s spoken directly to the deepest parts of you. “It’s all I want,” he says. 

“I got you a ring,” you murmur. 

The air races with your heart. The sound of your skin and clothes is the only thing to be heard between breaths. “I got you three,” he says. 

“Spencer, what for?” you ask, afraid to open your eyes and break the spell, the branching, unending feeling of connection you share. 

“I didn’t know which one you’d like.”

“You’ll marry me?” you ask. 

“Angel, I already said yes. I love you. I told you already we’d have to get married.” 

“Oh, we have to?” 

Spencer kisses you. It’s startlingly open-mouthed for a moment, but you adapt and overcome, you love him and his every touch, tilting your head to the side to allow him room to ferry in and kiss you deeply. It’s slow and measured, then quick and undecided. He turns his face one way to kiss you, then the other, back again, a hint of roughness —of hunger to it as he pulls your face to his. 

A spark of heat against your nose. 

Your eyes flutter open, a pinked path of light scored diagonally down his cheek. “Spence,” you say, feeling the weight and heat of tears gather behind your eyes, even as you smile, “don’t cry, baby.” 

“I feel like I spent my whole life waiting for someone to love me and it doesn’t feel real that it’s you,” he whispers slowly. 

“No? How do I make it more real for you, sweetheart? What can I do?” you ask sincerely. 

He shakes his head. 

You push your forehead into his. He doesn’t cry anymore than two burning hot tears, rubbing your shoulder as you yourself sniffle back your own emotion. You’re really not sad. You hurt for him, but this is one of the best things that’s ever happened to you. 

“Do you want to choose your ring?” he asks, enthusing his voice with cheer. 

“Do you want to see yours first?” 

“Did you get me a diamond?” he asks. 

“Don’t be silly, Spencer, of course I did.” 

He laughs and kisses you three times in quick succession before he sits up, wiping his face, chuckling wryly. “Sorry, I didn’t think I would react like that.” 

You tangle your fingers with his before he can get too far away. “I love you, honey. There’s nothing wrong with crying about it.” 

You aren’t expecting to start crying when he slides one of the rings he’s chosen for you over your finger. He says you can see each one in action and choose after you've seen them all, but the moment the band is over your knuckle, you know it’s the one you’ll keep. You push the ring you’d bought for him onto his finger with your cheeks still tearstained.

The diamond on his ring isn’t quite as big as the one he’d bought for you, but it looks right nestled against his pale skin. That night, you talk more than you ever have before, falling asleep only minutes after the glowing threads of morning have painted your twined hands with gold. 

[godsfavdarling]

You might be my kink

happy kinktober to all my spencer reid bitches! my masterlist

+18!!!

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader summary: You can't believe Spencer is real as his fingers are buried inside you. It's almost as if he himself is your kink <3 words: 950 warnings: smut (fingering, handjob, bodily fluids) a/n: this is probably the only thing y'all get from me for kinktober but many people are writing many things so go support them!

Spencer’s hand has been between you two for a good half an hour now, his fingers curled inside you, his other arm wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you closer. 

At first, he was only edging you, making your eyes tear and wetting his shoulder as you hid your face in it. 

This was a very common occurrence between the two of you, and even after such a long time, it still felt like the most delightful dream. 

Now that you are with him, after loving him from afar for so long, you can't imagine it being any other way. Just the thought that there was no "Spencer and I" in the past makes you sick. 

You can't remember who you were then, and you don’t want to. 

It feels like you are a proper person now. 

You are who you were meant to be.

You’re straddling his lap while he kneels on the bed, sitting back on his heels.

Your face is buried in his shoulder, your breath hot against his skin.

He knows your body like it’s his own, and the way he looks at you—with want, like you’re worth having—you’d let him chew you up and spit you out if that was his wish.

No matter how hard you try to stay still, your body keeps moving, every sensation pulling you in deeper. He presses on, focused.

“Spencer…” you manage to whisper with a soft moan. If that were the only word you were ever allowed to say, you’d live your life without complaint through eternity.

You know you’re moving too much. You know all he wants is to pleasure and savor you, but it’s all too much. 

The scent of both of you surrounds you. You’ll never get sick of it. You find yourself way too often inhaling the sheets on his side of the bed.

It’s like an addiction, or maybe it’s just an addiction. 

You never cared, and you won't start caring now. You gave yourself up to him and your love completely, and you’re not planning on ever turning back.

When your movements become too much, he lifts you effortlessly, gently laying you back on the pillows.

“You gotta stop moving so much,” he whispers, his voice strained but soft.

“Sorry,” you pant, barely able to form the word.

Spencer’s body presses down against yours, his fingers still working inside you.

Your legs are spread wide for him, your breath hitching as his hips begin to rock involuntarily, his control fraying with every second.

Oh, Spencer.

Him and the weight of him on top—you’d let him crush you. What a perfect death that would be, to die under him.

What a dream, what a joy.

His hips keep moving, and you can feel his hardness through the softness of his pajama pants.

You slip a hand under the material, wrapping your fingers around his cock and pumping slowly.

He whimpers, the sound muffled against your neck. What an exquisite sound it is—your favorite melody.

He’s twitching in your hand, already so close, and your firm grip is pushing him closer to the edge.  

It doesn’t take long. He’s been holding himself back, focused on you. 

What an angel he is, sent from heaven just for you.

What did you do to deserve him?

When he finally comes, you feel it, your own release crashing over you at the same time.

You clench around his fingers. He keeps them moving as your back arches, and Spencer’s lips brush your cheek.

Time slows. There’s no rush, no need to move or speak. Just the heat of his body on top of yours, keeping you tethered to him. You’d stay here forever if you could, wrapped up in him, lost in him.

But eventually, Spencer shifts. 

He lifts his head, his fingers still inside you, curling once more, almost as if to say goodbye. He pulls them out gently, and the sudden emptiness makes you gasp softly. 

You can’t help the small whimper that escapes your lips as his warmth starts to leave you. 

He reaches for the tissue box on the bedside table, sitting back on his knees, just for a moment, but even that brief distance feels like too much.

You need him back.

You blink up at him, your body aching for him to return. Your skin feels too bare without him, like you’re missing something vital. 

You want him to come back, to close the space between you, to never leave.

He wipes his fingers clean with a tissue, slow and methodical, though his eyes never leave you. 

When he's done, he reaches for your hand, lifting it as though it's fragile, like something holy. His thumb brushes over your skin, tender and unhurried.

You watch in silence as he cleans your hand with the same gentle care, wiping away all of his cum. 

As the white tissue absorbs the remnants of him, the sight makes your chest tighten—something about the way it disappears so quickly feels surreal.

You hope to God he never disappears like that. Like he was never here.

Then, without hesitation, he brings your hand to his lips, pressing soft kisses against each knuckle, one by one. 

His lips are warm, and each kiss lingers just a second too long like he’s savoring the taste of your skin.

“Spencer?” Your voice is barely a whisper, but it’s enough to break the quiet.

His lips pause over your skin, hovering for just a beat longer.

“Hm?” His response is soft, a low hum that vibrates against your hand. He doesn’t pull away, doesn’t move.

“I think you might be my kink.”

“Your what?”

[avis-writeshq]

heyyy omg I love your writings so much! congrats on your latest milestone, it's DESERVED 👏 can I pls request track one with spencer reid where he gets an epiphany and decides that he wants to propose to his girlfriend? just superrrr cute and fluffy 😍 thanks a lot!!

glue song – spencer reid

summary: “but you’re here, and so i love you.” in which spencer realises that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. pairing: s5!spencer reid x fem!reader genre: established relationship, fluff warnings: spencer in a knee brace (tell me why that’s attractive. why does he look good at his worst. face card never declines), he’s genuinely obsessed with you, not proof read oops a/n: thank you so much anon !!!! i’m so sorry it took so long to post; i kept changing and editing it hahaha i hope you enjoy it !! wc: 1.05k

“Careful watch your– no, pivot a little, pivot–” 

“I am pivoting! There’s nowhere to pivot to! Why is it so messy?”

You suppress a grimace as you manage to somehow squeeze your way through Spencer’s tiny doorway and into his apartment, the shoe rack on the side dangerously close to his damaged knee. You stumble a little as Spencer grips your shoulders tightly for support, his other hand holding onto a crutch. 

“Maybe we should move into a bigger apartment,” you muse, helping him to the couch. Your gaze shifts to his injured knee, your face falling. “Does it hurt?”

“Only when I think about it. Which is pretty much all the time,” Spencer says, wincing as he finally collapses against the cool leather cushions. “Thank you for doing this.”

You look almost offended at his words as you brush his hair out of his face and into a makeshift ponytail. “Did you think that I wouldn’t?”

He hums as he feels the way your fingers pull lightly at his hair, your nails scraping against his scalp. “Thought you’d get tired of me. After, you know, everything.”

“None of that was your fault,” you remind him swiftly. “This–” you gesture to his knee– “isn’t either.”

He softens, leaning his cheek on your shoulder. You’ve been there for him through everything and he knows what specifically it is you’re referring to. He could see it from the moment his doctors informed you that he wouldn’t take the vicodin they had prescribed to him to soothe his discomfort. His thought process makes sense; he didn’t want to risk it. Regardless, he was left with a growing pain in his leg that didn’t shake even after taking toradol. 

“I’d never get tired of you,” you clarify, squeezing his hands. “You’re too pretty to get tired of.”

He lets out a proper laugh as he squeezes back. “You’re funny.”

“I’m being serious!”

He laughs again, shaking his head adamantly. “Liar.”

“When have I ever lied to you?”

Spencer beams in your direction, pressing kisses against the soft of your jaw. “You’re right.”

A triumphant smile spreads across your face at his words. “Exactly.”

*** 

From his spot on the couch, Spencer watches guiltily as you hustle and bustle about in the kitchen, grabbing plates and filling them to the brim with the food you ordered from the Chinese place he loves. He feels bad seeing you work so hard looking after him; especially when you have your own workload to take care of. He doesn’t even notice that you’ve already placed his portion of food in front of him until you whack him lightly on his head with some napkins. 

“Stop it. I know what you’re thinking.” You shoot him a half-hearted glare as you snap open your chopsticks. “I want to do this. I truly don’t mind.”

“You’re already doing so much,” he insists, “I’m okay, angel, I swear.”

You are not easily convinced and you point to the list of things the doctor suggested you to do in order to ensure Spencer’s speedy recovery. “I have a responsibility, Walter. What will your team do without you?”

“They’ll live,” he assures, reaching a hand out to massage the muscles by your shoulders. “I think you’ve seen me naked more the past two weeks than you have our entire relationship.”

“Well it’s not my fault that you need to bathe,” you argue, stabbing at your noodles. “You love it really.”

His cheeks burn with embarrassment at the accusation. “I do not! It’s humiliating.”

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” you soothe, smiling at him. “Besides, it’ll only be like this for a little while longer.”

“If you consider five months to be ‘a little while longer’,” he quips as he shovels food into his mouth.

You let out a laugh, not finding offence is his sarcastic blow. He thinks you’re a blessing and he figures that you definitely are. Who else can deal with the problems of him being, well, him aside from you? Spencer doesn’t know what he would do without you. How could he when you manage to push all the darkness and negativity away?

“I’m lucky to have you,” he says finally, his gaze on your face. “You’re so good to me.”

You hum in response, wiping your mouth and curling into his good side, draping an arm over his middle. “That’s true. You’re good to me, too.”

He brings his hand over your waist and kisses the side of your face in an act of reciprocation. “You’re beautiful.”

Heat crawls up your neck to your ears at the sudden compliment and you can’t help the silly bashful smile that pulls at your lips. Your mouth opens and closes, deciding on what to respond with before you settle with a simple, “Thank you.”

It’s the honest truth. There’s a look about you that tells him that you don’t believe it, but he doesn’t say anything more to try and convince you. He tells it to you everyday; he’s sure that you’ll end up accepting the compliments more readily. Your being beautiful might have been what had drawn him to you in the first place. Although he isn’t entirely sure. He recalls a certain folktale about invisible stings and how it was tying him to you. There’s something pretty about that thought, the mere idea that you were made for him and he was lucky enough to actually hold you in his arms. 

You’ve turned the television on now, a romance movie playing on the screen with familiar actors. It’s supposed to be a comedy, at least that was what the description on the DVD said, about the main male lead reminiscing about his year that he spent with some manic pixie dream girl. Spencer doesn’t understand how that could be comedic but you seem to enjoy it. 

Spencer has tuned out the movie now, finding entertainment in the reactions you have. Your face morphs into different emotions with each dramatic scene and in that moment Spencer realises one very important thing. 

“I’m gonna marry you one day,” he whispers, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. 

“What was that?” you ask obliviously and you lift your eyes to look up at him. 

“Nothing,” he dismisses, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Just keep watching the movie, angel.”

reblogs are always appreciated!

events page

[uzurakis]

DEALING WITH A BROKEN HEART!

featuring: gojo satoru. itadori yuuji. megumi fushiguro. nanami kento.

how they would comfort you after you’re rejected by your crush! (requested)

n. didn’t proofread n i wrote this at midnight cz i still hafta catch up on my reqs. i’m only a hooman guys!! so pls sorry for any typos or mistakes ajhauns and i specifically chose this manga panel 4 OBVIOUS reasons . .

GOJO SATORU. “wanna know what i’m thinking?” he started, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, “it’s their loss! obviously, they don’t have great taste.”

you managed a weak smile, shaking your head. “thanks, satoru. but it still . . hurts.”

gojo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and giving you a serious look that was rare for him. “look, i get it. rejection sucks. but honestly, you’re way out of their league.”

then you raised an eyebrow, unable to hold back a small laugh. “really? you think so?”

he nodded emphatically, his usual smirk returning. “duh, absolutely. i mean, who wouldn’t want to be with someone as amazing as you? they’re probably just too intimidated by your awesomeness.”

you rolled your eyes, but the humor in his words did frankly lift your spirits a bit. “you’re just saying that.”

“nope, i’m dead serious.” gojo straightened up, putting a hand over his heart. “in fact, i’m starting to think i should be worried. you’re gonna have a line of people trying to win you over, and i’ll have to fend them all off.”

ITADORI YUUJI. “hey,” he said softly, nudging your shoulder with his. “c’mere, i feel you need a hug.”

you looked up at him, your eyes misty, and saw the genuine care in all over, very clear midst his expression. without a word, you leaned into him, and he wrapped his strong arms around you, holding you close. the warmth of his embrace began to melt the icy sadness in your heart.

“i’m really sorry,” he whispered, voice gentle. then he pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. “but you don’t have to go through this alone. let’s do something together to take your mind off things. how about a movie night?”

a small smile tugged at your lips despite the tears. “a movie night?”

“yeah!” he said, his pupils lighting up. “we can watch whatever you want. comedy, action, even those cheesy romance movies you love.”

you laughed a little at that, appreciating his attempt to lift your spirits. “hmm okay, that sounds good.”

“great!” he stood up, offering you his hand. “and don’t worry, i’ll bring all the snacks. we’ll have a proper movie marathon!”

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. “um, do you want to talk about what happened?” megumi asked softly, his voice steady and inviting. “it might help to get it off your chest.”

you sighed as you felt the sting of tears threatening to fall. “i don’t even know where to start,” mumbling the words above a murmur.

“that’s okay. just take your time. i’m here to listen.”

for a moment, the two of you sat in silence. it wasn’t uncomfortable, though. it was the kind of silence that felt like a warm embrace, giving you space to collect your thoughts. you glanced up at the sky, searching for the right words.

“they just . . didn’t feel the same way,” you finally said, voice cracking. “i thought there was something there, but i guess i was wrong.”

his gaze softened. “rejection is hard,” he then said quietly. “but it doesn’t define you. it doesn’t change who you are or your worth.”

finding comfort in his steady presence, you looked at him. “i just feel so stupid for thinking there was a chance.”

“you’re not stupid,” the guy replied firmly. “you took a chance, and that takes courage. it’s okay to feel hurt, but don’t let this make you doubt yourself.”

NANAMI KENTO. after a moment, nanami broke the silence. “you deserve someone who sees how incredible you are. this just wasn’t the right person.”

you glanced up at him, but your eyes filled with tears. “but it felt like they were the right person,” you said, voice trembling. “how could i have been so wrong?”

in a moment, his face softened, nanami’s usual stoic demeanor giving way to concern. “it’s not about being wrong. sometimes, people just aren’t capable of seeing what’s right in front of them. you have so much to offer. one day, someone will see that and appreciate you for who you are.”

“it just hurts so much right now.”

he nodded, understanding. “it’s completely normal to feel this way. anyone would be upset. it’s a natural reaction to a difficult situation.”

you took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. “i just don’t know what to do next.”

nanami leaned forward, his eyes earnest. “then take your time to heal. focus on yourself and what makes you happy. you’re strong, and you’ll get through this.”

@uzurakis

[hxnbi]

⸻ ❀°。wind breaker boys if you had braces

requested by anonymous: "I recently got my braces in and although I do not regret saving up the money to get it done. It really hurts lately. And I am very much bummed out that it hurts so much. I was wondering if you could write something related to it?"

pairings requested: suo, sakura, umemiya, togame, and choji x gn. reader

note: as someone who had braces before a few years back, ik that it can freaking SUCK so i hope it gets better for you <3

❀°。SAKURA HARUKA

At first, he really didn’t know what to do when you came back from your dentist appointment, only to look like you could audition for a role in a zombie movie. Sakura can hardly manage taking proper care of himself, so what would he know about taking care of other people? Does he even deserve to take care of you...? But he shakes off those thoughts, because, on the other side of the room, you were suffering, practically melting into the couch while your head was unseen from the large pillow on your face, squishing your face in hopes of dulling the pain. Which didn’t help much.

“Hey, uh, ahem… you need anything?” he asks awkwardly, scratching the back of his head.

You murmur something short and nearly incoherent, and Sakura, determined to be helpful, tries to scour the kitchen for anything that might ease your pain. You wonder what he was doing, but you can find it in yourself to open your mouth, in pain, to say anything. He eventually brings you a cold compress and some soft, mashed potatoes, hoping it might help. Long story short, they don’t taste very good. He’s a little confused, but he's got the spirit. 

❀°。SUO HAYATO

The second Suo peers over at you and sees you lying on the couch, you are hardly recognizable—well, not literally, but you clearly do not look like yourself, and that worries him deeply. It hurts to see you like this, and his heart sinks seeing you in such discomfort.

“Y/n, you have to eat,” he says gently, holding a bowl of soft soup that he painstakingly prepared just for you.

“I know…” you mumble, shifting slightly while attempting to cover yourself and your metallic mouth with a blanket.

He sits beside you, patiently spooning small portions, coaxing you with the spoon moving closer to your mouth.

Suo tries his best, while not forcing you, to eat. After all, if you didn’t have food in your system, you would feel even worse, and he didn’t want that. He, above all, wished for your happiness.

❀°。UMEMIYA HAJIME

Umemiya attends to every need in the world. Husband material through and through, he becomes your personal nurse. He prepares all the homemade cold smoothies and soups in the world to smooth your pain, makes sure you take your pain medication on time, and even neglects his Furin duties just to spend it all with you to keep your mind off the ever-present pain from the metals in your mouth.

“You feelin' okay? Need anything else?” he asks, brushing a strand of hair from your face and clasping your hand in his.

You can't help but smile weakly. You feel incredibly lucky to have someone like Umemiya. He makes sure your comfort is his top priority above all, attending to every small detail with the utmost care and affection. To him, nothing is more important than your happiness, and he’s more than willing to make it happen.

❀°。TOGAME JO

Granted, Togame doesn’t push you to talk much, always trying to be considerate about his own feelings. You don’t need to talk; he’ll be at your side at all times, making sure that you are properly cared for, and constantly attentive as your boyfriend. Togame tries to take your mind off the pain by doing little things that make you happy, like playing your favourite music or perhaps watching your favourite show on TV. Without a word, he sits next to you, gently holding your hand and caressing the insides of your palm.

Whenever you grimace from the pain, he squeezes your hand reassuringly and whispers softly that he’ll stay with you through it all.

❀°。TOMIYAMA CHOJI

“Huh, it hurts? Where?” Choji asks, looking genuinely puzzled with both his feet crossed in a rather childlike fashion.

You point to your mouth, muttering a few words, and he finally understands. Oh right! You did mention that you would be getting braces on today. His face immediately sinks, seeing your discomfort. Oh, you must be in pain...

And so, with that plaguing his mind the entire rest of the day, seeing you in pain with your braces, Choji decides to make food for you in hopes that it’ll make you feel better. After all, food solves everything! But when he finishes his so-called dish, a “nuclear disaster,” as Togame deadpanned, you can’t help but laugh.

“Okay, maybe cooking isn’t my thing,” Choji admits sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “B-But it tastes better than it looks! I tried it!”

Despite his culinary skills—or lack thereof—his attempt to cheer you up works wonders in making you smile for the first time that day. And in the end, while coming home, he brings out something that is more fitting for you to consume—a pack of store-bought pudding instead from across the street, sitting beside you and sharing it. 

©hxnbi. comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated ♡

[etheries1015]

I'm not sure if requests are open or not but can I have more content on Twisted Wonderland x Obey Me. No preferences really, it can be anything like the demon boys reactions or even the reactions of our Twisted Wonderland acquaintances.

Maybe the reader could successfully summon one of the boys?

If requests are not open please ignore this.

Requests are always open, because I kinda pick and choose what I like to write and what I don't...so no worries! Thank you for submitting this request! I had a lot of people ask me to write another part about twst x obey me so...

click here for: Pt 1

Twisted wonderland X Obey me crossover where MC goes to twisted wonderland from obey me but has their full range of magical powers.

Only problem is, you finally figured out how to use it to summon the brothers, but now you had a whole other issue upon your hands.

TW: None

General warnings: Gender neutral reader, probably a lot of OOC moments, but I tried!

The day you managed to get in contact with Lucifer was well deserved. You had read and practiced all sorts of magic in your free time, Endless sleepless nights studying, and practicing. And it all has to do with...that mirror. You had managed to contact Micky through the mirror who lived in another world, so why not try contacting the brothers the same way? With a few sigils and a couple other magic tools given to you over time at NRC, you chanted your summoning ritual and the mirror glowed brightly. Next thing you knew, Lucifer was standing in the mirror in front of you.

"Lucif-"

"(Y/NNNNN)!!!" A bunch of voices cried out. Your magic worked a little...too well, because the next thing you knew you were being tackled by a hug. Err...many hugs. They had actually stepped out of the mirror, Asmodeus chocking you in a hug and twirling you around with tears streaming down his face.

"Asmo- Asmo stop! You guys can't-" you tried to warn them to go back through the mirror, however it was too late. The mirror returned to its normal state, and you now stood in your dorm room with 7 demons all in tow. Stuck there.

This can't possibly be good.

But luckily, with you somehow managing to break the laws of magic in Twisted Wonderland, all of the brothers were able to use their full range of magic. Including you.

Their reactions:

Lucifer

"Let me talk to the manager." After he finally sees that you are safe and sound feeling a wave of relief, he is immediately on the mission. He wants to speak to Crowley, which you tried to explain was...difficult. But this is Lucifer we are talking about, anything is possible with him around.

The moment he sees Crowley, he internally groans. The things you had said about him were indeed true, he was avoidant of your issues and was trying his best to downplay the problem at hand.

"How were they able to summon such magical beings...According to the dark mirror, (y/n) should be absolutely powerless, an average human with no merits." Crowley had said.

Lucifer was startled at this accusation, so what you had said about them not taking you seriously due to your lack of magical aptitude in this world...was correct as well. This made his blood boil, however he didn't feel the need to defend you. He knew you would have shown your worth regardless of this hiccup, he had full faith in your abilities in personality, despite what they believed to be "useless" or not.

Easily threatens Crowley. He demands you be given a proper living space with accommodations without treating you as some sort of slave to his issues, despite being under the impression that you had no way of using magic to assist you in your endeavors. You had dealt with him and his brothers enough, why must you be burdened with NRC students issues?

Crowley almost shit his pants bro. When lucifer went into his demon form, Crowley shrunk down in his shoes. The other teachers were the same honestly, they were also present during this meeting. They couldn't bring themselves to fight against the large wingged and horned man that emmited such power before them.

"You dare allow my little sheep to live with such horrible conditions and treated them with such avoidance... I suggest figure out a way to make up for what you have done. I also highly suggest you find a way for all of us to return, it is indeed your fault or whatever "magic mirror" that called upon (Y/N) that had made this mistake. I presume you will work with us to fix this issue?"

"Of course!" Crowley exasperated with a laugh of nervousness, "I promise! However, it is no small expense to-" No. Lucifer was not playing around. He was easily able to keep any big emotions in check, however when it comes to you...

"you WILL assist us. Or you can say goodbye to this school you call 'Night Raven College'- " A ball of light of immense magic began to swirl around his hand and his eyes glowed with deadly intent.

He left the building with a smile of success, leaving behind the teachers almost shitting themselves.

after settling business with Crowley, he ran to you. He had to make up for the lost time of course! You wouldn't be able to leave his grasp for a long while afterwards.

When you tried to ask what he spoke to Crowley about, he simply smiled and told you not to worry, he had it all handled. For now, he wanted to hold you in his arms, it's been a while since he had seen you after all, he needed to recharge.

Mammon

"Mannn, is there anything to do in this run down place?" He put up his feet on the table of the ramshackle dorm lounge, you were caught in his grasp. He had been holding onto you ever since he went through the mirror.

"Please don't cause me trouble here, too." You groaned, bags underneath your eyes, "This situation is bad as is, it's probably best you-"

There was a knock on the door. You sighed and got up, opening the door before revealing Azul. Your eyes widened, you totally forgot you offered to help at the Monstro lounge today!

"Hah? Who's this?" Mammon stood behind you looking down at Azul, who was equally as shocked to see him. But he quickly got over it, shaking his head before returning his gaze towards you.

"I believe we had a deal (y/n)..." Azul said with a glint in his glasses, "You had promised to help out today. Our prefect wouldn't flake out on their duties, would they?" Azul went to grab your hand to drag you out, however Mammon quickly grasped his wrists roughly with eyes slitted in annoyance.

"Who are ya and what do ya think you're doing putting your hands on what's mine?" He growled. You rolled your eyes and slapped your face. Here he goes. You can already tell where this is going.

"yours?" Azul shook his head in shock, "Huh? And you don't look like a student here," Azul pointed out, pulling his hand back from mammon, "Anyhow. Are you saying you will take the Prefects place instead? What would you have to offer me? Prefect is rather popular here despite their lack of magical abilities, and having them would really boost our sales for the week-"

"lack of magical abilities? what are ya on about? My (y/n) is super powerful!" Azul stared blankly before looking at you with doubt in his eyes. You turned your gaze away and sighed in defeat, you knew there was no way he would believe what Mammon had said.

"Well. Magic or no magic, I need somebody to take the job (y/n) had promised. I have a business to run, after all-"

"Oh so you're a business man, huh? Well look no further! I'm the Great Mammon, I have a lot of experience in these things. I'm a total cash grab, a model-"

Mammon went on about his accomplishments and proudly declared he was willing to make a deal with Azul, something you tried to talk him out of, but it was too late. He was already signing the scroll.

"Mammon!" You growled, "You are not listening to a single thing i'm- you know what, whatever. You do what you wanna do. Good luck."

Que Mammon being dragged off to do his manual labor...he will learn the hard way like he always does. Oh well. Leave it to Mammon to run off as soon as he arrived to try and make a deal with the worst person possible!

Leviathan

Hugging you so tightly. He missed you so much! But boredom soon took over. He had no idea what to do, you have no video games, not even a T.V In the lounge! How could you have possibly lived this way?!

"Here, I can call up Idia. He's probably the best person who-"

"You found a gaming replacement?!" Levi whined, "I thought you were my player two! But now you're staying up all night playing games and watching anime with someone else..."

You lightly punched the top of his head. "I didn't, you idiot!" You laughed, "We play games, sure, but you'll always be my player 1. I just don't want you to get bored while you're here."

You called Idia and he was so so so so so reluctant to do it. But it's you, of course. How could he say no? Ortho also did some convincing, saying it's good to find another recluse like Idia. But the trade off was you had to be there too.

Dude. They played games for HOURS in the Ignyhide dorm lounge, and you probably forgot something pretty important...

Idia was a gamer unmatched. Not even Levi could beat him at a lot of these pvp games, and began to become unnerved.

"Bro lol you're such a noob, hey (y/n) I thought you said this guy was good at games, why'd you send this guy? He's practically a normie-"

No way he just said that. THAT was Levis breaking point.

He summoned Lotan

He flooded the entire lounge

You had forced him to submit, and Idia was just staring....wide eyed...what the hell just happened...?

"You can use magic this entire time?!" Idia called out in shock after witnessing you submitting Lotan and Leviathan to your call. Levi did make note of this, however was far too upset and preoccupied by cleaning up his mess before he could mention anything about it.

He was banned very quickly, but now thanks to the giant sea monster, he really piqued the Leech twins curiosity (who happened to be in the mirror chamber at the time, when Lotan escaped Ignyhide and also flooded the chamber of mirrors.) Jade asked Levi to study Lotan and Floyd started admiring Levis Demon form. He's never seen such a cool tail from any creature before!

Levi was on house arrest. You wouldn't permit him to leave ramshackle, but he surprisingly made good and quick friends with the brothers. They were all quickly learning how to sew little outfits, which jade really enjoyed. Floyd was occupied by asking Levi all sorts of questions about Lotan and begging to touch Levis tail, before falling asleep out of boredom on the couch.

They managed to stay entertained with each others company somehow, but it worked out.

Satan

You knew he would be best occupied in the Library, where there was an entire pile of books he had never seen before. He was in heaven. How you managed to get him into the building without him being an authorized student? Crowley gave them temporary access, thanks to Lucifers (threats) negotiations.

He began going through each shelf and picking a bunch of books that looked interesting. He was mainly interested in the magic of this world

He emptied an entire book shelf and huddled into a corner surrounded by a mess of books.

Riddle came in to witness this, and was NOT happy.

"What do you think you are doing?" He confronted Satan. Satan glanced up and was at first upset he was interrupted, however seeing riddle...

"Cat..." Satans mouth dropped open

"Cat? excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?" Riddle folded his arms, "No matter. You are supposed to check out these books before utilizing them, and you do not look like a student here. As house warden of Heartslabyul I demand you put these back, or it's off with your head!"

Satan TRIED to explain to him in a civilized way that he was a special guest of the prefect and was given access to as many books as he desired, but Riddle did not believe him. and demanded some form of proof. Satan did not take well to this.

"I'm not going to take demands from a small cat such as yourself. I suggest you find someone else to bother," Satan returned to his book now ignoring Riddle.

"W-wha...EXCUSE ME?!" Riddle yelled, his face turned a bright red and pulled out his wand, "OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!" Next thing Satan knew he had a heart shaped lock around his neck.

He REALLYYY did not like that. The green aura that surrounded him startled Riddle as Satan stood up towering over him, demon form and all.

"I swear I-" He bared his teeth and raised his hand, before someone yelling "SATAN, SIT!" Caused him to gasp in shock and fall to the ground with a heavy 'thud', something that surprised Riddle.

You ran over and sighed shaking your head. You apologized to Riddle and explained the situation, to which Riddle took off the collar he had given Satan.

"Don't worry, Riddle. I will make sure I check out every one of these books and return them accordingly, I will take them to ramshackle for now as to not cause another...scene and disturb the other students."

Riddle was mildly satisfied with this answer and allowed you to do so, not without mumbling about being called a small cat...but no matter.

"how were you able to do that, Prefect? You made him submit," Riddle pointed out, "Without any magical power," He began to say. Satan quickly interrupted with a tilt of his head and a "Huhh??"

"(y/n) Is one of the most powerful human sorcerers," He pointed out, "Solomon is teaching them himself. They have plenty of magical aptitude," He told Riddle, much to his dismay.

You sighed and ignored the topic and Riddles confusion, dragging the pile of books to check out and leaving the library as fast as possible.

Satan spent the rest of the time in ramshackle sitting in a dorm room he found himself, and read to his hearts content. Not without asking you many questions about this world and the contents of some of these books

Asmodeus

The first one to hug you and twirl you around, and had a very hard time letting go.

When he finally did let go, he was nitpicking about everything.

"Oh my dear just look at those bags underneath your eyes! And that uniform...you just look horrible,"

"Yeah. not the first I've heard that," You sighed. When Asmodeus asked you to elaborate, you explained to him about Vil, the super star of NRC, and the person who liked to remind you how to care for your appearance.

Asmo was upset at first, until he met Vil. Annnddd fell in love. Until Vil pointed out Asmos "strange" choice of outfit, being his school uniform from devildom.

Asmo scowled at this and gave Vil a run down of every flaw Vil had, in the end, Vil actually began to see he was similar to Rook in a way, very observant in a persons design and look. Although Asmo did not have much tact about it.

"(y/n), how did you manage to become friends with such a magical person? He's practically oozing with magical charm," Vil pointed out. Not without Asmos confusion.

"What do you mean?" Asmo asked, "We have a pact! They are rather powerful, one of the many things I absolute love about our (y/n)~" Before you could explain further to Vil what Asmo meant, Rook had walked into the room.

ROOK. FELL. IN. LOVE. WITH. ASMO. Bro was enamored, he was shocked, jaw dropping, and eyes widening. He made it almost his life's mission to discover EVERYTHING about Asmodeus.

"Monsieur! I beg of you, let me study you!" he cried out, "I've never seen someone as mangnifique as you!"

Bruh. Right in front of Vil? Vil was kind of offended to be honest, but Asmo... he was loving this. Finally, somebody here that could appreciate true beauty!

Rook started listing everything he loved about Asmo, and when he asked Asmo where he was from and Asmo mentioned he was a demon, Rook lost. His. Mind.

Asmo went into his demon form, ironically this is when Epel walked in.

"What in tarnation is THAT?!" He cried out in his thick southern accent. Asmo did not like that.

"What do you mean THAT?" He scoffed, going up to Epel.

"Who's this sparkly lookin' guy with the horns? ya don't look like a fae to me..." vil scolded him for using such words, but Epel couldn't help it! He was beyond surprised at this being standing before him in his dorms lounge!

Asmodeus was pretty close to using his charm upon Epel, probably to convince Epel that he was as amazing as Rook pointed him out to be, but you quickly got involved and forced Asmo to stop.

"It's not that big of a deal," You sighed, "We all know how amazing our Asmo is..."

Anyway a little bit of back and forth, and all of the sudden Vil Rook and Asmo were all sitting in a circle like a bunch of little girls at a sleepover talking about Musical theatre, Beauty, and everything else that involved Asmo talking about himself. you and Epel were quickly used as their own little dress up dolls, they managed to find a way to occupy the time by having competitions on which party could make you and Epel look the best with what techniques.

Beelzebub

Coming through that Mirror on an empty stomach was such a bad idea. But not to fear! You knew the perfect person to help!

Trey. you had to beg Trey to make as many desserts as he could and that Beel would be probably the best person to taste test all sorts of things he baked. Trey honestly took you up on this, and whipped up a bunch of things he had been itching to try.

"They are really good, but Lukes treats are the best," Beel said with his mouth full of tart. He began to pick apart what was good and what was bad about every dessert he tried, however that did not satiate his hunger. He was so excited to try every single new thing that this world had to offer.

You guys ended up going to Scarabia, where Kalim was more than happy to share his culture and their food. Jamil ended up cooking a meal fit for a king as asked by Kalim. Kalim and Beel got along so well it was kind of sweet to watch....but eventually the food was all out in a matter of minutes, and Jamil had to talk some sense into Kalim.

"He has a healthy appetite! It's amazing, isn't it Jamil? Haha!"

Jamil was not very amused. It was obvious he was exhausted, so you all parted and said your goodbyes.

Ace Deuce Grim and you ended up going into town and stopping at the most popular restaurants.

"this guy is real beefed up, how did you manage to get so much muscle with an appetite like that?" Ace pointed out. Deuce agreed enthusiastically.

They spent probably two hours asking about all sorts of sports in Devildom and exercises, until Jack walked in and walked over.

"Jack!" You smiled. He walked over and greeted everyone with a gentle "hello," Before introducing him to Beel.

"I wonder who would win in an athletic battle between you guys," Grim pointed out. Their bets were on Jack, but of course you knew better than that. You knew Beel would win by a landslide.

they headed to Savanawclaw, and even Leona ended up getting involved after seeing Beel standing next to you.

"Whos this guy?" He pointed at Beel. You guys introduced each other, and Jack explained that they were about to have an athletic competition. They were going to do runs, hurdles, push ups, pull ups...honestly everything.

"What about a Spell drive competition?" Jack suggested. Leona pointed out that it would not be evenly matched, as you were magicless and Beel wasn't even from here.

"Huh? (Y/N) isn't magicless," Beel defended you, "They are actually really powerful. I mean, enough to have pacts with all of my brothers, even Lucifer" He smiled at you and patted your head. Leona began to laugh at you two, not truly understanding what Beel meant by that. Beels friendly demeanor faltered and he frowned.

He was confident in your abilities, so Leona finally agreed to a spell drive contest. They explained the rules, and began. Leona started out so confident, but was quickly humbled the second Beel turned into his demon form and went all out.

You two walked out victorious, leaving an absolutely shell shocked Leona and Jack behind. You and Beel had perfect teamwork, and won by a landslide. You were even able to showcase some of your magical abilities, something else that was unprecedented by the two NRC students.

"Thank you for sticking up for me," You smiled at Beel, "It's been a while since somebody did that to me.. Even though I had to make you sit because you were using too much of your power. You were gonna destroy the disk!." Beel gave you a warm wide smile before picking you up and holding you into a up into a tight hug.

"I missed you, (y/n). And Nobody should talk bad about you like that!

Belphie

Joined you, Ace, Deuce, Grim, and Beel on your outing to eat. Although when you guys ended up splitting ways at the point when you guys left with Jack. Belphie quickly departed to find a good place to sleep at ramshackle. He found a perfect tree for this!

He ran into Malleus. Tall guy, big horns...

'Who're you?" Belphie asked, looking down at the tall Fae from the tree he found to sleep in. Malleus looked up in shock, his green eyes staring at Belphie.

"Are you a new student here?" Malleus inquired, "I wasn't aware that child of man was taking in new students at Ramshackle," He pointed out, folding his arms. Belphie had an unnerved feeling about this guy.

"What do you mean 'child of man'?" Belphie yawned, "Are you talking about (y/n)?"

"Yes, I am," Malleus said, "And you might be?"

"Belphegor, Avatar of Sloth. Why'd you call (y/n) that?" he frowned.

"Well (y/n) is a human," Malleus pointed out, "I suppose I grew up in a more traditional Fae household, so many of the humans we tend to call "child of man"..." Belphie had no clue what this guy was going on about, but decided it wasn't worth his time. He started to doze off again until Malleus pestered him with another question.

"I came here looking for (y/n), He called up to Belphie, "Might you know where they are?" Belphie began to become slightly irritated at this point. He jumped down from the tree and looked at Malleus in annoyance.

"Why do you wanna know where they are? they'll be back soon," he pointed out.

A little bit of back and forth and passive aggressiveness not gonna lie...it escalated to the point where Belphie became so agitated at this guy and his "fancy" way of talking and the fact malleus kept calling you "child of man" or whatever, he turned into his demon form.

"Oh? A duel?" Malleus chuckled, levitating slightly with his arm lifting up and magic swirling around his hand, "Shall I take it you-"

"Belphie, sit!" Belphie gasped and was suddenly dropped down to the ground, you and Beel walking up to them.

"Oh, hey Malleus. I'm sorry if he was bothering you...what was-"

"ugh. This is so annoying," Belphie growled, "this guy here was calling you weird nicknames, and said you were a magicless human," He pointed out. Malleus looked at you with slight surprise at witnessing you drop Belphie to his knees.

"you...can use magic?" He asked, "How come I was not aware of this?"

"Of course they can use magic, idiot!" Belphie hissed, standing back up and protectively moving to hug you from behind. His head lay upon the crook of your neck, glancing up at Malleus with a light smirk upon his features. He was trying to test him.

With his lips forming into a thin line of frustration, Malleus took a step forward, not without Belphie using his tail protectively in front of you as if warning him to stay back.

"I don't like this guy," He pouted to you. Your tired eyes rolled to the back of your head, giving another apology to Malleus.

~

The commotion soon got the attention of the other demons, who then gathered in the courtyard and demanding to know why everyone around them was trying to say you were magicless. After a little explaining, each of the brothers were less than forgiving. This entire time you were powerless, and the students had treated you differently for it? Malleus was kind enough to recount a lot of the things the headmaster had put on your shoulders, while you were trying your best to downplay it. A bunch of the other students had ended up gathering around ramshackle as well, witnessing Each and every one of the brothers now in their demon forms, the immense amount of magic traces had caused quite a stir among the students. Even the housewardens had shown up, hearing down the grapevine of the events that were unfolding. If you hadn't done something and done something fast, things could easily go south. So, you did what you thought was all you could do.

"SIT!" You yelled as loud as possible, each of the brothers dropping to the ground with a yelp. The magic power that was gathering around was now coming from...you. Murmurs were heard between the students, eyes of shock filling their eyes and unbelievable amount of students actually had pulled out their wands, obviously feeling threatened by your sudden showcase of strange magic they had never seen before.

"I'm afraid, my dear students, this has gone too far!" A voice cried out in the middle of the chaos. Crowley had walked between his students until he made it to you, staring down upon your figure with a look of annoyance and sigh.

Crowley declared there was a way for you to return home, and summoned the mirror in which you used to get them back in the first place. Lucifer couldn't help but scoff and sneer at the headmaster.

"Now, please explain, why have you suddenly found a way for us to return when you haven't been able to sort a way out in the year our (y/n) has been in this dreadful place?" He roared in anger. Crowley shrunk down and tried to laugh it off, playing it to be nothing short of a coincidence.

"Enough..." you sighed, annoyed, "Let's just get this over with and go back home."

"Indeed! what our prefect said! Although, you will be strongly missed, (y/n). You were incredibly helpful in dealing with- I mean- supporting our students! With you gone, I'm not sure what we will do! Oh Woe is me!"

Ignoring his obvious attempts to keep you there to handle his students, you said your final goodbyes to everyone you had made friendships with. However attached you may have gotten with these students, it was inevitable that you had to return to the Devildom, where you truly belong.

Thus ends your journey with Twisted Wonderland!

----

I'm sorry that ending was a little bit rushed, I was having a hard time figuring out how exactly to go about it! But, despite this, I hope you all enjoyed this despite it's length. If you have any more suggestions or ideas for a crossover, please let me know! I'd love to hear your thoughts and opinions.

i'm also so bad at writing belphie lol he's my least favorite brother ngl so i'm not that good at embodying his personality. L.

Check out my masterlist for more of my works!

[fatuismooches]

More Neuvillette thoughts, as requested by people in my inbox.

He is a traditional man, and he wants to court you in the proper way that someone as lovely as you deserve. The only problem is that he isn't actually sure of the way humans do so. Sure, he's seen other people do so, but sometimes it ends up in failure and rejection. And he sure does not want to ever see a dissatisfied look from you directed towards him. So Monsieur Neuvillette will head to the library to borrow a book regarding the principles of courtship. (Everyone is sworn to secrecy if they happen to see. Though the Melusines already know who the lucky person is.) He will genuinely start to worry if you don't show signs of reciprocation or happiness so please indulge him, he's trying his best.

Taking him diving. This doesn't really seem like a Neuvillette thing to do but when he's in love with you I believe he will actually consider your suggestions just to please you even if they seem a bit ridiculous. Why diving specifically you ask? Because he looks like an otter and you also want to show him those cute otters in the ocean to prove it. Even before the romance stage, you are probably Neuvillette's first real friend. No one else has the courage to speak to him as openly as you do. And he does not find it disrespectful, no, he realizes that he quite enjoys it. He doesn't realize how lonely he is without you until a mere day passes without seeing you.

Being besties with Furina. If you manage to catch the attention of the grand Chief Justice, you are sure to get the same treatment from the great Archon herself. You may be nervous at first but if you can deal with Neuvillette you can probably see her confidence isn't all that real and something she uses to hide her fears. Regardless just be her friend because Neuvillette is tired of dealing with her. She confides in and trusts the two of you very much. Furina will also let you in on some secrets of the Chief Justice, don't tell him though.

Expect to be spoiled with riches. I mean he is probably really wealthy and you are his lover so isn't it natural for him to treat you to expensive things? Though if you feel overwhelmed by the sheer amount of Mora that he's spending on you just tell him and he will dial it back a bit (just reassure him that you really do love his gifts because he'll probably be a bit nervous that they're not good enough.)

Taking the Melusines out on dates with you and Neuvillette. Both of you are like parental figures to them. It goes from a table for two or a table for a few. It's really cute to see how they eat with their tiny hands, and see how Neuvillette listens to their stories with the utmost seriousness. They will also ask you the questions Neuvillette wants to ask you so he doesn't have to. Also, gently biting and nomming on his pointy ears. Just do it. He's really confused at first (is this what humans do?) but he won't stop you. Moving onto his horns. They are very smooth but I don't think they're hard. You could move and bend them pretty easily which makes it super hard for the judge to keep a straight face. Give them a little kiss too.

Everyone knows this by now but he is an emotional man who keeps his sadness and solitude to himself. Neuvillette doesn't rely on anyone to cheer him up but as time goes on he realizes even the smallest things you do makes him feel better so nowadays you'll have a visitor outside your house in the pouring rain.

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

Helloo!

Idk if you take requests , but could you maybe write a fic with Human!Alastor and male!reader where reader exaggerates his whole personality to comply with everyone else and is easily exhausted from it and Alastor "relaxses" reader in that way ?

Thank you in advance and have a good day !

Alastor - [ MASQUERADE ]

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A/N: This request really made me brainstorm but I've decided to break it into 2 parts. I hope you'll enjoy it! As always kindly lmk the artist of the fanart so I can tag them and give proper credit! ❤️

WARNINGS: [ SLIGHT NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ SUGGESTIVE THEMES ] + [ MALE READER ] + [ FLUFF…if you squint ]

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“You're on air in ten minutes, Y/n. Pick it up before the host gets restless!”

Your so-called manager barked from the dressing room doorway, giving one last glare your way before strutting off, grumbling a string of curses you'd learned to ignore.

“Asshole…” you scoffed, turning back to the striped mirror of your vanity; the large bulbs that lit it gave enough light in the old stuffy backstage space, illuminating every detail of your appearance.

Not one thing could be out of place.

You wouldn't allow it, committed to your role as a rising preformer in the golden age of the stage, and conditioned to perfectionist standards from years of tribulations

Suffering behind a practiced smile won you your stardom. The ambiguous beauty you possessed helped immensely in your success on the silver screen, but the truest contributor to your fame was appeal.

Humourous, intellectual, but most crucial, sex appeal.

That's what kept your admires enthralled, permanently put you in the limelight from the start, and inevitably earned you considerable amounts of money.

You weren't opposed to being called a child of Dionysus himself, envied by those who wanted you. Still, the burden of putting on a show for everyone every day without giving them a glimpse of your faults was excruciating.

Yet, you chose the burden over sulking in the darkness, remaining among the ordinary when you so clearly had the makings of a star, and your status of high popularity among the masses was proof of it.

So be it if your cheeks ached from smiling at frivolous fans that your laugh sounded less like your own the more you forced it, that flirtations of others felt like empty praises, or that every project you agreed to felt less and less stimulating.

So fucking be it.

Fame is fickle; you knew this all too well, but your existence felt meaningless without it.

Empty.

All the world's riches, the undivided favor you garnered from the public, and the sparkling awards cluttered your penthouse display shelves…

Even with all that at your fingertips, you had yet to feel seen…

Seen and truly adored.

“Two fucking minutes! Get your ass in position. This interview is being broadcast live, remember?” your manager harped at you from the hall, causing you to grunt in frustration before yelling back, “Would you shut your trap?! Fucking hell…I'm coming!”

You set aside the whiskey glass in your left hand, ran your right through your recently styled hair, and checked your reflection one last time.

“It's only a radio show. One little interview and you can go home and get black-out drunk…” the idea of spending some much-deserved time alone after running around doing a press tour brought a sad smile to your face as you stood and exited the dim room.

This would be your last stop, an interview with Louisiana’s prided radio host, and the last person you'd need to put a show on for before returning home.

“Finally…” your manager grumbled as you stepped into the hall, giving you a once over as the two of you strolled down the hall towards the host recording area, “Don't fuck this up. People say this ones a real talker and can make or break ya..” he mumbled begrudgingly.

You paid his incessant pestering no mind, flashing him a suave smile as you both stopped before a heavy door, “Don't tell me you're starting to care about my reputation now? Thought you only saw me as a nice money grab…”

Your smile grew as laughter bubled in your chest, seeing the other slowly become agitated at your backhanded comments.

“Why, you little-”

“Oh, don't be rude, sir. You'll spoil my good mood, and god knows sour spirits bring bad luck,” you smirked, enjoying the scrunch of his nose as his expression reflected his true nature, but before he could snap, you pushed the door open and slipped into the soundproofed station room.

What a fucking pain he is…

You cursed the raging man outside, sighing softly as the sound of jazz lingered through the air and the smell of freshly brewed coffee mixed with a distinct cologne engulfed you.

The space felt and looked inviting, relaxing even, but what caught your attention was the man who occupied it.

He sat in a desk chair across the small room, facing a table full of controls and a mic to match. His face was lowered from the device, glasses resting comfortably on the bridge of his nose as he stared at what you assumed was a script for your conversation with him, but the simmering amazement overtook your curiosity about the paper he held you felt hearing him hum along to the song he was airing.

You didn't dare move an inch closer, satisfied with watching and listening to him from afar, oddly entrapped by the silent allure he cast.

It was no mystery that people loved the sound of his voice. You'd be fooling yourself if you said you hadn't found his commentary enchanting, but looking at him in the flesh, you were sure he'd flourish on the silver screen like no other.

He could indeed win the eyes of many…

Yours especially, and to some degree, he had already, but you hesitated to admit it even as he turned to face you.

Oh…. he is a beauty, that's for sure…

That was the singular thought in your mind as he smiled, standing from his seat before approaching you with all the confidence you'd merely portrayed.

“Hello there. You must be Y/n L/n. I'm Alastor Hartifelt. It's a pleasure to meet you, my friend!”

His voice was as smooth, melting into the background melodies inexplicably, and your heart lightened immensely as he held out a hand for you to shake.

“The..the pleasure is all mine, Mr. Hartifelt..” you inwardly scolded your delayed greeting, losing track of your practiced charm relatively quickly in his grasp. Still, in seconds, you recovered from the blunder while returning his smile.

Alastor took you in with a glance up and down your figure, cataloging every detail of your appearance out of habit, but when his gaze met yours, one thought crossed his perceptive mind.

Longing?

How curious…

You hid the familiar emotion well; seeing past the veil of contentment wasn't tricky, and though he was tempted to bring it forth.

You two shook hands briefly but firmly. Alastor stepped back, gliding his hand out to mention towards the recording station. “Come, have a seat, and please call me Alastor. We will be on air after all; formalities aren't necessary for an engaging broadcast.” His smile grew, emitting an unearthly kindness as you nodded in understanding before sitting in the chair opposite his.

“You make an excellent point, Alastor. I hope we enjoy each other's company.” You chuckle softly, feeling a tad nervous for a reason unknown but genuinely harboring a rise in excitement, hearing him respond promptly.

“I have no doubt we will…” Alastor muses more to himself, a delicate edge to his voice as he trailed behind you, and a certain twinge of intrigue rattled your spine at the implication.

For the first time in a long time, you weren't dreading the inclinations of your fame, gradually succumbing to the sparks of joy Alastor evoked with the most straightforward words and becoming surer of the fact as he took his seat next to you.

“Shall we begin?” he implies cheekily, and you reply in a quick, witty fashion, “We shall.”

————-

“Care for a drink, my friend? I believe we’ve earned ourselves a cold glass of whiskey… that is, If your evening is unreserved.” Alastor made the offer moments after switching your respective microphones off, quickly arranging the recording panel to a specific setting as he listened for your response.

Your mouth moved quicker than your mind; a distinct rush overtook at the thought of spending more time with the charismatic radio host, “I'd be delighted to join you. I must agree that our interview went quite well. It's rare to have an easy conversation with a stranger these days..”

Alastor raised a brow, sparing you a glance as he finished sliding keys and flicking switches into place to keep a calming stream of music lingering in his broadcast, “So, I'm still a stranger to you?… My, and I thought we were getting on so well…“

He spurs you casually, an air of hurt in his expression, and it stuns you, causing a red hue to rise on your cheeks, “Th-that's not at all what I meant, Alastor…” Your lower head twinges of embarrassment staining your consciousness, and for the third time that evening, Alastor had chipped away at your charm.

He enjoyed it….

Seeing you falter and conform to his standards, though you didn't need to, at any time, you could've remained indifferent to him and taken your leave the moment he shut your mic off, but you remained.

Solely because you'd grown attached to him or the defect he had on you.

Humbling, genuine understanding, but above all else, validation.

“My dear, I am only poking fun. I take no offense to your words, and I hope you'll grant me the same courtesy!” Alastor reached for you, thumb and forefinger slipping under your chin to lift it, and you obeyed his gesture with a soft smile. “Oh…I…”

You paused, swallowing thickly as he raised himself from the chair, head lowered toward yours as he stood above you.

Had he always been so tall?

So brooding?

You weren't entirely sure, but your heart raced, every nerve in your body tingled with anticipation as if you were a deer caught in his headlights, but you couldn't retreat or evade him.

“You what?..” Alastor cooed quietly, chocolate eyes on fire with an emotion you'd long forgotten but returned subconsciously.

Control.

You needed to be back in control, or the next breath between you two might lead to something…

Your mind played scenario after scenario, beginning to short circuit as he peered down at you, lips only inches from yours, and his other hand reaching to caress your cheek. His touch is searing, warmer than those you'd felt before, intentional, and your entire being buzzed in his grasp as if in a drunken stupor.

He was dangerous… able to tear through your facade easily, which was terrifying.

Polarizing.

Don't let him get any closer…

Keep him at a distance…

You've only just met him...

Warnings rang in your head, but your eyes lowered to his lips, and your voice remained quiet as you responded to his question.

“I" 'd like to have that drink before the night ends. Wouldn't you?"With a gentle nudge of your head and a soft laugh, you draw away from Alastor's touch. The space between you increases, and the ability to breathe becomes less strenuous as you stand to your feet, collecting your overcoat before slipping it on, "I'm not familiar with the city yet, so I'll leave it to you to show me around." The chipper in your tone amuses Alastor; you'd perfected the art of illusion so well that in the clutches of what some might consider an intimate moment, you balked and reclaimed sensibility like it never occurred, though you wished for it to carry on further.

He'd met and spoken to his fair share of actors, learned their ticks and telling habits, and used it against them when he saw benefit in toying with them.

However, being able to see right through you evoked another motive for the host, and he dared to think it was mutual.

"Well, I'd be honored to show you the ins and outs of this lively town I call home so long as you promise to keep up," Alastor retrieves his coat, a heavy jet black trench withered accents paired with matching hat, stylish in all the right ways -presumably warm to be in. Still, you were sure if he ventured into the night dressed like that, any stranger would fear him.

They had good reason to, but you didn't need to know why.

Not yet…

With a coy smile, you followed Alastor out of the station, matching his strides as he paved the way to a nearby speakeasy, "You'll find it quite entertaining, my friend. Few visit at this hour, but my dear Mimzy puts on a vine show regardless!" Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of Alastor being infatuated with another, for what reason you weren't sure, but your disappointment flashed clear in your eyes that he took it upon himself to clarify his remark.

"She is an old and loyal acquaintance. Nothing more. Nothing less."

You perked up at the explanation, face burning with a blush as you raised both hands to dissuade his interpretation of your expression, "I understand. You needn't explain anything to me-"

Alastor halted in his tracks, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he peered at you curiously, "Hm, so you did assume we were something to begin with?..."

Shit, was I that obvious?...

"Not at all..." you lie, as calm as ever but internally conflicted.

How could he go about messing with you so boldly?..

And why did it excite you?..

"Your eyes say otherwise, my friend..." he counters your nervous reply with a smug smirk, beginning to walk off as if he wasn't toying with your head, "My eyes?..." you whisper in response.

"They are the doorway to the soul...I've learned to walk through said doors, and you, my dear, hide a lot of fears behind them." Alastor chuckles, ears tingling as you reclaim your spot at his upon reaching your destination. Still, you're less concerned with the dark alley lit with a singular neon sign situated above a heavy lead door and more worried about what he is implying regarding your emotions.

Who was he to know anything?

Sure, he was pleasant to be around, an avid intellectual with a knack for continuing conversation with you, and you had no reason to believe he'd been faking his friendliness to you from the start...

That still gave him no right analyzing you, prod at your exterior with more confidence than necessary, and you intended to let him know it.

A glare beset your expression, mouth open to speak, but you weren't allowed to do so as the lead door swung open.

Alastor guided you close to his side as a gaggle of patrons spilled from the doorway, ranting and raving about the time they had inside. Their rowdy behavior irked him, but you did not comment on the matter as he placed a hand on your back to lead you inside after their dysfunctional departure.

“Drunken idiots,” he mumbled begrudgingly, and for the first time you'd seen the radio host truly bothered. He'd been so composed during your interview, inviting and flirtatious on and off the air, so getting a glimpse of his annoyed state felt like a treat.

At least you knew he had flaws, insignificant but telling ones.

“Um. Alastor, you can..” you paused, unsure if you wanted to let him know he was still holding onto your waist as he led you inside the dim speakeasy. Alastor hummed, irritation gone, and his coy smile widening as you shuffled alongside him. “Y-you can let me go now.”

“Oh, nonsense, my dear! I wouldn't want you to run into unsavory characters like the ones that just passed..”

He quickly navigated the lingering crowd, clearly familiar with the club's layout, and you marbled at its unique atmosphere as he led you through it. “I can handle myself, Alastor,” you tried again to reason, but Alastor was quick to give a response as he ushered you to sit at an unoccupied lounge chair complete with a table and lamp.

“I'm sure you can but I'm rather fond of keeping you close.” He sat next to you after setting his coat and hat aside.

What did he mean by that?..

“How selfish of you,” you feigned disappointment as he shifted to face you with a soft chuckle leaving his lips, “Would you be so kind as to forgive my greed for your attention?” Alastor stares you down, noting how you bite your lip, another nervous tick you'd yet to disregard in his presence. “I'll consider it if you buy me a drink or two..”

The suggestion was meant to sound confident, unmothered by the mounting pressure in your chest, but it came out breathless. You were sure that you'd mastered the art of indiffenece, permanently established a mask of charm, but as much as you wished to maintain the certainty…

Alastair disproved it with little more than a gesture or equally compelling word.

It was unsettling, intoxicating too, but undeniably riveting.

“A small price to pay,” he mumbled, eyes lowering to your lips as you laughed softly and leaned back to admire the other patrons roaming or dancing around. “I never said I was cheap..” you taste him, gaze drifting to him as he shifted closer. You wanted to jump out of your skin as his arm came to rest behind you, head lulling to ward your cheek as he breathed into your ear. The resulting warmth made you shiver, quickening your breaths, and your body tingled with intrigue.

“No…” Alastor affirmed your jest, free hand raising your chin, tilting your head to face him as he continued, “…but you are desperate to be loved. One might say that's just as inappropriate, mon Cher..”

His tone dripped with condensation, a sensual purr loud enough to drown out the jazz and chatter surrounding you, and for a moment, he was all you could comprehend.

You should've felt angry, unsettled even, but his words struck a more profound emotion.

Comfort.

You weren't crazy, a constant wonder for the masses to marvel at and never care about.

Alastor could see you.

He wanted to…

“And so what if I am? Why would it concern you?..” there was no harsh undertone to your question, and it earned a sultry hum of amusement from him. “You've interested me, so I must not ignore your charade. I'm partial to the truth of a person, and you, my dear, abandon it in the hopes of success..”

Spot on.

It is shamelessly hurtful but direct nonetheless.

You clicked your tongue dismissively, attempting to turn your head away from his grasp, but Alastor held you tighter.

A glare crossed your face at the brushing grip he established, but a pool of excitement rushed to your crotch as well.

“I'm not one of your scripts to read, Alastor..” you scoff, rolling your eyes to make your point clear, but he isn't affected by the arrogant gesture.

“My apologies if it seems that way, but my intention to know you, inside and out, is purely innocent...”

“I find that hard to believe…” you retort, very aware of the minimal space between you two, and it became harder to focus on anything else but his soft lips that were stretched thin into a smile.

God, I was doomed from the beginning… you think to yourself as you laugh at your shameless line of sight. “Believe what you wish, my friend, but I enjoy being the object of affection..”

“That's inappropriate to suggest,” you mutter, face burning with blush and your hands raising to grip his wrist and collar. Alastor hummed, amused by your denial, “Mm, I suppose it is…would you like another apology?”

You shake your head, tugging him in by the collar of his shirt, eyes lifting to his, full of determination, “A kiss will do just fine…”

He holds your gaze, checking for mockery, but there is none. “That's the first honest thing you've said all night, mon cher,” Alastor points out in a hushed tone, lowering his head to place a slow kiss on your lips as they pull into a satisfied smile.

xxxxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxx

I rewatched Heartstopper for this. Was it helpful? Yes. Did it make me cry harder than the first time I watched it? Also, yes. Will I forever love that show?… (yes). Again, this is just part 1! The second half is being drafted. Please look forward to it. I'm not sure it'll include smut…but I'll debate on that later.

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

He's so cheekyyyy but I love him for it hehe like he’s just the right amount of ‘cocky asshole’ ya know? ❤️ credit to creator!

[prettyboykatsuki]

✮ tags ; gn!reader, usage of honorfics (-senpai once, -san), submissive ish nanami, blowjobs, anal fingering, 18+

✮ wc ; 1.7k (???????????)

✮ a/n ; i dont know what happened. not even a nanami girl. but. i see a man in need. nanami sorry for what every does to you.

It's so easy to get Nanami to bent out of shape.

He tries his best, you think. He tries hard, and he's a good guy. You always feel bad being around him and pulling your pranks and antics. You're not like Satoru - he's told you, because you're much more conniving. Unlike Satoru, who Nanami finds dishonest - he thinks you're too direct. Too plain in your admission, your admonishment, your praise.

He deserves a break, for all the tremendous pressure he puts on himself to do well and protect. to make something out of his life. There's some part of him you feel a lot of sympathy for, and another part that sees him for what he is. A man under duress who's practically begging for reprieve. He wants to vacation on a beach somewhere, but he can't.

You think it's natural - inevitable, that Nanami will give into your flirting. You lay it on thick every time he comes by. he's only unaffected in the brief stretch of time where he thinks you're teasing him. Because he's older than you, jaded, easy. When he realizes there's even the slightest bit of sincerity in your words, he suddenly can't look you in the eye.

It's a troublesome affair for him to have feelings for his junior. It's inappropriate, and he can't approach you in the way he likes. The way he likes being controlled and practiced. He's quite the gentleman. Later, you'll sure he'll wine and dine you nicely as a proper thank you. A man like that leaves no good deed unaccounted for.

But for now, you don't really want to let Nanami do anything for you. You've always wanted to do something for him. Break him down. Maybe it's your problem, since a man with that kind of neuroses always turns on the worst in you.

Still. Still. You can see something in him that no one else does, a desire to forget himself. You can give that to him without trying that hard at it, but it does take a lot of convincing.

He's got the handsomest face when he's embarrassed out of his fucking mind. He gets red. You've never seen it before - but his face is lit up. Pink up to his ears.

He's haphazard. Shirt unbuttoned but not off, tie loosened. He took off his pants but couldn't manage his boxers. You've been riling him up all evening, teasing and testing and pushing. When he finally kissed you later on in the evening, an expression close to a plea - you knew you had him where you wanted him.

So you made it to his apartment, kissed in his hallway, pulled him onto the couch and dry-humped like two idiot teenagers. He can't see him to control it after all your meticulous bullying and he looks so much better that way. Loosened up and picked apart.

He's so easy. It's unimaginable for you in some ways, that your cool and collected senior could break apart over something like this. He's normally so reserved, but you've breached some upper limit and now he's like this underneath you.

The muscles of his thighs are tense as you sit patiently between his legs, a hand on his knee with another wrapped around his shaft. you laugh a little at the state, the pre-cum dripping down your fingers and

"Nanami-san," you punctuate the honorifics "You alright up there?"

He lets out a sigh like he's been holding it in all evening. He tries so hard. So hard. You respect it, admire his endless resolve. He chokes down a sound as your hands grip around the base of his cock.

"Yes," He says, only barely masking the thin veil of desperation in his voice. He's almost begging you. You think you're probably awful enough to get him there "I'm fine."

"You sure? You're red in the face. Been a while? You seem like the serial monogamist type. When was the last time you got laid?"

In an act of unbelievable cruelty, you decide the best time to blow him is now. You open your jaw wide, stick your tongue out and let the spit pool onto the tip of his length. He hisses, almost bites a hole in his lip looking down at you in disbelief. His cock throbs painfully in your hand and you giggle - which makes him look down at you ashamed.

You blink innocently, silently imploring him to keep going. He sighs, an arm thrown over his eyes and his hand closed into a hard fist. You close your mouth around the head, minding your teeth. Nanami tastes like skin and salt and musk, but not unpleasant at all. His pre-cum taste clean, just like the rest of him is so prim and perfect. You dip your tongue into his slit, watching him squirm before taking him down even further.

"Could you please—for the love of—"

You slide off your mouth of to talk. You can't help but want to press his buttons.

"Come on, Nanami-san. You can withhold a little bit. You're so sturdy, y'know, more than I thought. Tell me about your sex life."

Nanami can recognize your words for what they are, because he knows you and the games you play with him. He frowns hard, meeting your eyes and closing his own with a sigh.

"I don't remember," Nanami tells you, honest - nearly biting a hole into his lower lip as you massage his balls with your hands, soft as you kiss down his shaft and lave your tongue over the thin skin "It's been a long time. Years."

"That so? You deserve an orgasm, Nanami-senpai. A good one. You really work hard," You punctuate every word with a touch, a squeeze before he shivers himself into a mess. "Every had anything up there?"

His eyes widen in shock and dismay, but not disgust.

"....A very, very long time ago."

"You okay with it?"

"....Well, yes. I guess so."

"Any lube?"

"There's uhm," Nanami stutters, rubs his eyes like he doesn't know where he is "Oil. In the drawer."

"Kay," You say, casually, patting his thigh as you reach over to get it and return to him no problem. He looks at you awestruck and you look back at him with nothing more to offer "Try and relax,"

You warm the oil up in your fingers first before you pull his cock up enough to touch his ass. The rim of muscle flutters as you touch it, slick thumb drawing circles around. He makes a noise you can't identify, followed by one you can. A moan, slight and quiet enough to go undetected. You grin silently as you ease a finger in, a thumb first then your pointer. Nanami breathes through the motion, and you move slow enough to get him to relax.

Once there's one, you go back to blowing him. He loosens up immediately when he feels the warmth of your mouth, hot and slick, suctioned around his cock. You relax your throat taking him deep, opening his ass at the same time.

It's more attention than he's had in a while. There's an unmistakble quality of lust, gargled words and sounds and shuddering. His chest is so flushed in the bare light of apartment he almost glows. You start with one finger and keep your blowing steady - start him easy with stimulation.

You get another, then another - and when your three fingers in, you decide you have some room to be relentless. Ruthless. You curl your fingers and search for his prostate. You know when you've found it because the sound he lets out is debauched.

It's easy - too easy, to get Nanami completely bent out of shape. Getting him this broken this fast almost feels like a trick of light - his dark brown eyes rimmed red and shaking. Such a composed gentlemanly sort moaning a fucking mess.

His strong chest is trembling as it rises up and down trying to catch a breath. You know when you find the spot because he nearly jerks his hips, but shows enough restraint not to do it. Not to fuck up into his throat animalistically like he wants so badly.

A well-trained man he is. You suppose all men can be a little like dogs.

So you reward him by deep-throating him. It takes all of your willpower and expertise but the reaction is more than worth it.

So polite, he doesn't even swear when he breaks underneath your ministrations. Doesn't cry, doesn't even scream when he wants too. His cock shudders and twitches and pulses against the warmth of your mouth, pre-cum streaming into your throat like a broken faucet. But he doesn't let himself cum, doesn't do anything but let you have your way with him.

No, he wants you to have your way with him.

You pull off and he whines. Whines. His voice, thick and deep, so pitched with need you almost want to laugh. You kiss his cock affectionately.

"You can cum when you feel like it. 'Kay?"

He just nods, speechless. Needy. You feel so good and a little sorry for him at the same time. But you're urged by a silent desire to ruin him at his very foundation.

So for the last time, you let your mouth come down on him and fuck him with your fingers. You give it everything, bobbing your hand and timing your rhythms well enough that your wrists hurt. It's a game of balance, but you manage it - because with even the slightest gestures or veritable movements, Nanami folds.

He caves in on himself, breathing ragged and practically drooling. Poor Nanami, you think. It's just so easy to get him this way, and it's fun too.

The words barely get out of his throat before he can warn you, frantically that he's going to cum. But you don't move, pushing forward and barrelling your way towards his orgasm. You can feel it happen on your tongue, cock twitching hard and he unloads deep into your throat.

You don't taste it so it's easy to swallow, and you swallow hard as you milk him making him pull you off in a desperate plea for mercy.

You laugh as you pull away from him, watching as he stares down at you awestruck and a little afraid. You wipe the corners of your mouth and smile.

"You're so sexy, Nanami-san,"

He groans in shame and embarrassment, still red to the tip of his ears.

"Enough out of you."

[theoldsports]

Domestic Cruelty | 500 words | Coriolanus x Reader

“You’re brilliant. Did you know that?” Coriolanus said, walking up behind his wife. He wrapped her in his long arms. [Y/N] was in the kitchen attempting to make dinner. She had never done that. [Y/N] was learning to become such a good wife to Coriolanus. It had just taken some elbow grease. Eventually, both of them expertly found the ways to get the other to yield to what they wanted. Coriolanus could tell exactly what [Y/N] wanted.

This was his favorite game.

Coriolanus pressed his pelvis against her ass and locked her into the kitchen counter with the cage of his forearms.

“You don’t have to cook,” Coriolanus nuzzled his mouth into her ear. He inhaled her scent deeply. “We have a staff that can handle that. What gives?” Coriolanus’ teeth caught on her earlobe. [Y/N] wore a knee length white skirt. Most of the time, she let Coriolanus dress her. He had grown to be so particular. This was a new piece, the skirt. Coriolanus hadn’t seen it before. He had stared at her for ten minutes in the doorway before his dick was too hard from simply looking. Coriolanus needed more.

“I wanted to,” [Y/N] shivered. Coriolanus bent her further into the counter. “Is that a crime?”

“No. Your cooking might be.”

“Hey!” [Y/N] tried to turn around to face Coriolanus, but he locked his cold fingers around her wrists.

“Your cooking may be a crime, Darling,” Coriolanus started. “You look sexy playing the pretty little wife, though,” his hands travelled down her hips to hold her firmly in place where he wanted her. [Y/N] moaned and tried to slide her cunt over Coriolanus’ clothed cock. “You may as well give up. I’m not so bold as to eat anything you made. It looks vile…”

“But did you have dessert in mind…”

“I think I know what I want,” Coriolanus replied. He bit his lip at the friction she created on his lower half. “Why? What did you have in mind?”

“Same as you.” [Y/N] pulled the pot of the counter and set it on an empty burner.

Coriolanus smirked. “How do I know we’re on the same page if you won’t say, my stunning wife? Communication is key, hm?” His fingers must’ve bruised the fat on her hips by now. “I love saying those words… My wife. My wife, my wife, my wife.”

[Y/N] sighed in ecstasy, knees quivering at the pressure on her ass and pussy. “Coriolanus—“

“Tell me what you want.” He licked a long stripe down her neck.

“It-It’s childish. You know what I—“ She started. [Y/N] reached across the stove with one hand. Before [Y/N] could click the burner off, Coriolanus grabbed her right hand and held it over the burner. Hot enough to scald, but not a proper burn.

“Did I give you another option?” He grunted.

“M-Me!”

Coriolanus nodded. “Good,” he released her hand and got her full hips back in his aggressive grasp. “I think a woman willing to do all you have done for me… To look as beautiful as this. To work, to manage the house, to put up with all you’ve put up with; I know it’s been a lot— I’m not an easy man. A woman capable of all that deserves a baby.”

[Y/N] leaned back into his chest and sat up straighter. Her ears perked up. That was a new conversation. [Y/N] didn’t want that; not now. She panicked.

“Coriolanus… That’s not what I intended. The timing may not be right for us…”

“Did I give you another option?”

[roosterforme]

roosterforme's Bradley Bradshaw one-shots masterlist (Rooster x Reader)

roosterforme masterlist

Rooster x Reader one-shot fics:

A Nice, Big Rooster Rooster is surprised to run into you on North Island. He's not, however, surprised to find that he still wants you as much as always.

I Still Want You Bradley had been an idiot when it came to you. He still wanted you, but did you still want him?

I Like Your Voice You and Bradley recognize each other by your voices.

Benefits Bradley spends a long weekend in Mexico, enjoying the beach and your body.

I'll Take You There Bradley's best friend is moving to San Diego, and she asks him for a little help.

Why Do They Call You Rooster? When another girl asks Rooster how he got his call sign, you make sure she knows how big he is and who he's with.

Go Slow When you tell Bradley why you're nervous, he makes sure to go slow.

Couches, Floors and Beds You had reached your boiling point with your roommate, Bradley Bradshaw. 

Frustrated Rooster is kind enough to help Hangman's ex-girlfriend when she's feeling frustrated. 

Stay on Your Knees When Bradley messes up again, he’s more than willing to beg.

Hot For Teacher  You knew it was against policy. You wouldn’t bend the rules for anyone else. But when it came to Rooster Bradshaw, you threw all caution to the wind.

Red Flags, Green Flags Hangman complains about his date’s red flags, but Bradley thinks this girl sounds amazing. 

Can I Have My Shirt Back? You didn't usually invite guys home with you after a night out, but this one was always going to be an exception. 

You Deserve an Overachiever Bradley is forced to come to terms with the fact that he wants to replace your boyfriend with himself and give you proper orgasms. 

Want You Bad When Bradley realizes his girlfriend isn’t as innocent as he thought, at first he’s surprised, then he’s on board.

All I Want For Christmas Is You Bradley returns from deployment just before Christmas and immediately falls for the new bartender at the Hard Deck. 

Good Boy Bradley is more than happy to give up his dominant ways whenever you demand it from him. 

Take Two When Bradley got you pregnant, he blew his chance at a relationship with you. He loves his daughter, but he never stopped loving you too.

Champagne Lips You and Bradley both try to claim the last bottle of champagne on New Year's Eve.

I Would Never Hurt You Bradley saw the bruises and knew what was going on, but he also knew you didn't need him the way he needed you.

Hello, I Love You When Phoenix signs Bradley up for speed dating on Valentine's Day, he is skeptical. But after he meets the woman of his dreams, he's not afraid to admit his best friend was right.

Do You Wish It Was Me? When Bradley returns from deployment and finds you engaged to Harvard, he knows he needs to get you back. 

The Purrfect Storm Bradley inadvertently becomes a pet owner after he hits a stray with his Bronco. When he meets a lovely vet tech who is willing to help, both Bradley and the cat fall for her instantly.

Make It Messy, Baby Anytime Bradley has a rough day, his perfect wife is there to make it all better. Sometimes that means getting a little messy.

Daddy Would Say Yes After you manage to embarrass yourself in front of Rooster, he still makes it clear he wants you to ask him out.

Cockpit Love When you jokingly told Bradley that you would be jealous of him spending so much time with his Super Hornet, he decided it was time to let you stake your claim on him in the cockpit.

Something to Talk About Bradley knew the rumors were circulating. He knew his friends were talking. But he had known you for such a long time, and you were just friends. Because if something was going to happen between the two of you, it would have happened by now. Right?

When Tomorrow Comes Four months is a long time to go without Bradley. When you tease him a little bit the night before his deployment starts, he reminds you that he's always worth the wait.

You Want Me Anyway Bradley wasn't your boyfriend. He didn't owe you anything. But after months of hooking up, you expected more from him than what you were getting. It was time for you to move on. But Bradley has other ideas.

Earning His Rank Bradley knew you wanted to make his promotion night special for him as he got his new pin. He could tell by the teasing way you asked "What are you going to do to me when we get home, Lieutenant Commander?" He had something in mind.

Midnight Confessions It's getting harder and harder for Bradley to hide his feelings for you, especially when you offer to drive him home on his birthday. Before he knows it, he's drunk in your passenger seat, confessing everything he's kept to himself. He may not remember all of it in the morning, but you certainly do. 

How Could I Forget? When Bradley met you in a dive bar in Virginia, he just knew he wasn't going to be able to stop thinking about you. Even a year later, he still remembers your laugh and the way you kissed him.

So Fresh, So Clean At first, Bradley is mortified when the guys force him to stop at a carwash featuring bikini clad women from a college softball team. But when he meets you there, he starts to think he should thank his friends instead.

Feelings Involved After months of dancing around your feelings, you're about to leave San Diego and Bradley behind. But on your last night in California, you realize you're not the only one with your heart on the line.

Sufficiently Surprised Bradley loves dirty quickies with his wife. Between his work schedule and yours, that's often all there's time for. But when he rushes home from work on his birthday, ready and raring to go, he's in for a bit of a surprise.

Don't You Want Me, Baby It was like a fairytale, the way you stole Bradley's heart with your gorgeous face, retro denim jacket, and karaoke skills. But when you disappear into the night, leaving only one small trinket behind, he's left wondering if he didn't just dream you up.

Do You Wanna Touch Me? You had been working at the bar for six months. And you'd been crushing on Rooster since the first night he handed you his credit card, called you Babydoll, and asked you to start a tab for him. And it only got worse from there, until one night you asked him about more than just his drink order.

On My Terms Bradley didn't seem to notice how broken you were inside. When he looked at you, there was never any hesitation in his eyes. He was the first man in a long time that you wanted to trust with every part of you. If only your body and mind would start working together. If only you could get the words out.

Wrong Number Bradley was planning on a quiet night at home with a beer and a basketball game on TV. When he receives a text from a wrong number, he's left looking at a beautiful photo of you. Now he just needs to persuade you to ditch the guy you meant to text and focus on him instead.

Don't Waste Another Minute When you finally recognize that you have been hanging onto your relationship for all the wrong reasons, you end things. You knew there would be someone better for you, and it was a welcome realization to see that he had been right there in front of you the whole time. 

Stateside Bradley made a mistake last summer when he left for his deployment without ever asking you out, and then he thought about you a lot when he was gone. He was stateside again for less than a day when the other guys coerced him to help with a fundraiser at the Hard Deck. A friendly wager with the squad might not be the only thing he wins by the end of the night.

Deployment Sucks but I Swallow Bradley was used to having your undivided attention when he was about to leave for a long deployment, because you'd been spoiling him that way for years. When you spent the day with your friends and got home late instead, he wanted to be annoyed, but everything you do is just too sweet. 

Whole Lotta Love You and Bradley were just friends, and perhaps that was why you trusted him so much. It wasn't his fault that you were secretly harboring a crush a mile wide. When your noisy neighbor becomes too much and you decide you need to move, Bradley helps you brainstorm a solution. But when you set your plans into action, you're surprised to find that he seems almost jealous.

Vintage You love teasing your husband about his deep and unwavering devotion to his Bronco, but he's insistent that it would come in second place to you every time, and he intends to prove it. While you're away on deployment, he concocts a plan to get you behind the wheel of your very own vintage beauty.

Wild Rooster Chase Bradley thinks about you more than he should, and his feelings for you run deeper than they ought to. You've never given him an indication that you want to take the teasing touches and playful flirtation to the next level, so he never pressed his luck. When you surprise him by sending a text message that could change everything, he's ready to chase you all over San Diego for some answers.

California Autumn Bradley was drawn to you the minute you moved onto his street. You seemed to bump into one another everywhere, and each time he saw your smile or heard your laugh, he knew he had to ask you out. He wasn't expecting the answer you gave him, just as you weren't expecting to wish he could be the man for you.

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

Chan x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Suicide, Death, Grief, Slight Age Gap, Life after loss, Cursing, Angst, Blood, Brother's Friend, Manic Behavior, Depression, Panic Attacks.

If you or someone you know is suffering from suicidal ideation or thoughts of harming themselves, please reach out for help. You never know when someone's last day will be; no one ever does. But if you can help - even just a tiny bit, sometimes a word, text, or even a call can be a catalyst for positive change.

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pt2 Part Three

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The plane touched down with a soft jolt, pulling you from the haze of exhaustion and a slight anxiety. As the aircraft came to a full stop, you stared out the window at the sprawling airport. Korea was now your home - or at least, it would be for the foreseeable future.

As long as things worked out.

Slowly, you disembarked and moved through the crowded terminals, your mind racing. Not with many coherent thoughts, but thoughts none the less.

You could feel the slight stares of some people, but they looked away almost as quickly. You hadn’t been in Korea for years, and the reality of stepping back into this world was a bit overwhelming.

Especially considering last time you were just a small child, watching your brother kickstart his career. You had seen the streets and people over countless video calls, but it had been a while since you had breathed the same air as them.

You ran through the differences in cultural norms and no-no's in your head as a way of keeping busy. It would be a culture shock; but it would be one you were prepared for.

You collected your luggage and made your way to the arrival hall, the bustling noise and movement swirling around you.

You stood there only a second before your attention was drawn. Through the crowd, you spotted a familiar face, even if the one with that face wasn't well known: Mr. Kim, your brother’s old manager, waiting by the barrier.

He was still the same as you had remembered- tall and authoritative, yet his eyes softened as he saw you. "The last time I saw you," he said with a nostalgic smile, "you barely reached my knees." His hand was level to your previous height, and his eyes crinkled.

He didn't seem old, but the age in his face showed years beyond the time he had spent on this planet. The lines of stress and sadness marring his objectively attractive features.

You managed a faint smile, feeling a lump in your throat. "It’s been a while." Hajun hadn't had a proper funeral. Your parents wanted something small, and he was buried quietly. A part of you were angered at the fact. You wished your parents had given him a proper funeral, so others who knew him also could mourn, but they had amounted it to saying there would be other services held by the company and those he knew in Korea; and that his immediate family of all people were the ones who deserved the most intimate goodbye. Which is why they decided to forgo any big production and just have him buried within days of his passing.

There was an uncomfortable silence, and you searched your mind for something to say.

How do you go about things like this? Sorry for your loss? Sorry our loss?

Before you could say anything, a young man with dark hair and a warm smile stepped forward. It was Haru, one of Hajun’s group members. He hesitated briefly, giving you a look before pulling you into a gentle hug.

You instinctively shut your eyes, letting yourself breathe in his scent. It was a while since you had a hug, and it felt so good it was almost as if Hajun was the one holding you in his embrace.

Haru had always smelled like the flowers of his native country. You remembered the distinct cherry blossom and an earthy musk. Smelling it, it was impossible not to think of springtime breezes, and you knew as long as you lived it would be a smell that evoked a sense of peace and grounding within you, a scent that would always remain familiar.

"It’s good to see you again Hime," Haru said softly. He rested his hand on your head gently and smiled. He had referred to you as princess for as long as you could remember.

He was who you would consider Hajun's very best friend. His company was one of the more gracious ones offering substantial rest after great work- and with every holiday Hajun had been able to make it home, or every time the group was resting between comebacks and he decided to fly home, even if only for a weekend, Haru tagged along.

He had been calling you Hime even longer. The first time you had seen him on stage, dancing next to Hajun your 9-year-old self fell in love with the guy who in your eyes was as beautiful as a Prince. Even if Haru was 16 at the time.

"Juju, you met a Prince!" Your lisp due to your missing teeth was endearing, and your parents had laughed at how rosy your cheeks were as you watched Haru dry his sweat with a towel. Hajun grunted as he lifted you into his arms, then laughing as you wiggled wanting to be put down.

"I'm not a baby! He'll think I'm a baby!" You whined, perching yourself behind Hajun's leg as you watched Haru interact with a staff member. He chuckled and turned.

"Haru! Atarashī fan ga dekita to omoimasu. (Haru! I think I've found a fan)" Your eyes widened as unfamiliar words rolled off of your brother's tongue, those words causing the dark haired boy to turn in your direction. You immediately slinked back behind your brother even more, as Haru squatted down to your eye level. "Kanojo wa anata no koto o ōji-samada to omotte imasu.(She thinks you're a prince)"

He had smiled and waved. "What's your name?" You just stared and didn't answer, honestly a little shocked to how well he spoke English, little you blind to the fact that he had spent a few years of his youth in America. He gave a mock pout. His eyes bright and kind. "I didn't think Princesses were usually this shy. I guess I'll just have to call you Hime. Is that okay, Hime?"

His eyes had held that same kindness that you had first seen in them all that time ago and every time after. A type of kindness that couldn't be ignored. The followers of Eclips3 often referred to Hajun and Haru as their "spring" due to their similar demeanors. Haru being more so the start of Spring, the transition of cold to warm, and calm. While Hajun was the warmth into something a bit fierier and more energetic. The countless videos you had seen captioned "Our Spring" that captured the wholeness of their relationship made your heart ache with longing.

Another two men, Jiho and Sunwoo, stepped forward, their expressions mirroring Haru’s kindness. They also gave you warm hugs, and you could sense their familiarity. You had met them a few times maybe at most three, but they had always been friendly and welcoming, treating their beloved maknae's family as their own.

Jiho and Sunwoo looked at each other, and the older one spoke first.

"Y/N...we...we wanted to say-"

You shook your head. "You don't have to apologize or say sorry for your loss... or our loss. It's not your fault. It's not anyone's..." You felt robotic as you said those things, as if you didn't believe them yourself. "I'm just glad that while he was here, he had you guys. So thank you." Your tone wasn't rude, but it conveyed that Hajun was something that you wished to not talk about at the moment.

Mr. Kim placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "We’re here for you now- to support you, Y/N. We’re your family now, just as we were for Hajun."

A surge of emotion welled up inside you, and you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. You had done so good keeping it in since you had embarked on the plane journey, so good as your feet touched the ground at Incheon. But the presence of these familiar faces, people who had known your brother and had shared moments with him, provided a strange mix of comfort and sadness, that was threatening to break down that wall.

"We should get going," Haru said, his voice gentle. "The car is waiting outside. And while I'm sure paparazzi wouldn't recognize you in quick, they'll recognize us, and I'm sure you don't want the cameras on you at this point in time."

You nodded, allowing them to guide you through the airport and out into the crisp air. You watched as a few people snapped pictures, and it felt odd to you that they had that much audacity to invade their personal lives in a time like this.

Shouldn't they at least give them time to mourn before taking pictures? It's been a little over almost two months but still.

Haru and Sunwoo stood in position to cover your face in a subtle enough way that it seemed to be accidental.

As you settled into the car, surrounded by people who had been part of your brother’s world, you felt a small flicker of hope. This new chapter was beginning with a sense of connection to your past, even if Hajun wasn’t there to walk through it with you.

As the car pulled away, you glanced out the window, taking in the unfamiliar landscape.

"So, uh, if you don't mind me asking what made you want to come to Korea...and take after...take after Jun..." Jiho asked quietly. He was sitting in the middle row with Sunwoo. He was turned slightly in his seat and so was Sunwoo.

You felt Haru tense in the seat next to you, and visibly saw Mr. Kim's shoulders grow stiff.

Your jaw twitched slightly as you stringed together the right words to figure out what to say.

Jiho took this as you being angered by the question and started to apologize, but you spoke in a firm an even voice.

"This is my gift...my...favor to him. He left things behind. No reason in letting it go to waste."

It was simple. Maybe too simple. But if you said anymore, it would be hard to explain your thought process to him. It seemed like it worked though, since rather than continue the conversation Mr. Kim changed the direction of your chatter.

"First, let me say that the company is very interested in you," He began, his voice calm but deliberate. "When the proposal was first brought up, there were mixed reactions. It’s not every day that we consider bringing the sibling of a deceased idol into the fold, especially one as beloved as Hajun. There were concerns, naturally, about how the public would react - whether it would be seen as a tribute or as something exploitative. But once we discussed it more those concerns began to fade."

He leaned forward slightly, his eyes locking with yours in the rearview mirror as if to make sure you understood the gravity of what he was saying. "The company recognizes that you’re not just Hajun’s sister; but you’re an individual with your own talents and dreams. It didn't hurt that when Hajun was alive, he tended to brag about you and your abilities a lot." That sparked a couple of smiles and laughs from the guys in the car- and even a smile from you. "They want to help you develop those talents, or teach you the skills you need to learn in order to do well, but they’re also aware of the weight of expectations that will be placed on your shoulders because of who your brother was. That’s something we’ll have to navigate carefully."

Mr. Kim paused for a moment, letting the words sink in before continuing. "Training will be intense, as it always is. You’ll be put through rigorous training. While the language training deosn't seem like it will be a big issue, we'll still have to focus on dance and vocal training, regardless of how well you think you can perform. The company will expect you to work hard, just like any other trainee. But because of your connection to Hajun, there might be additional pressure - both from the public and from within the company - to see you succeed quickly. If you adapt well, there’s a possibility you could debut within a year, maybe even sooner, depending on how fast you progress."

He glanced at the group of Hajun’s former bandmates - Jiho, Sunwoo, and Haru, who were watching you both with a mix of concern and quiet encouragement. "Your relationship with the remaining members of Eclips3 will be important," Mr. Kim continued. "The company is considering the idea of you training alongside them, possibly even joining them in some capacity. They’ve already agreed to help you with your training, especially since they know you and care about you. Sunwoo, for instance, has volunteered to assist with your vocal training, and Jiho is eager to help you refine your dancing skills whenever needed. Haru, as the one closest to you, will likely take on a sort of mentor role for you."

He hesitated for a moment, then added, his expression turning more serious - "While you most likely won’t officially debut until a year or so from now as I said, due to the special circumstances, you’ll almost instantaneously be thrown into the spotlight. Given your background and connection there’s no avoiding it. Not to mention you won’t be participating in survival shows like a lot of trainees; the company is already planning to arrange for you to appear in other media - variety shows, interviews, and even special features. They want to introduce you to the public in a way that builds anticipation and interest..." He paused, clearly choosing his words carefully. "I want to be honest with you and say while we don’t intend for this to be exploitative, the reality is that everything in this industry is, at its core, a business. Simply put, the company agreed to this path so easily due to the amount of pull it will have to the public. Meaning more money for the. Your journey will most likely be one that is broadcasted extensively, with the story behind it being a focal point. I wouldn't even be surprised if they made a documentary off of it one day. Not for his legacy but for money..." His voice was sad, tinged with what sounded like regret. "The public will be fascinated, not just because you’re Hajun’s sister, but because of the emotional narrative that comes with it. I wished it didn't amount to this. But it all comes back to money, even in delicate situations like this."

"Regardless I admire you greatly for doing this. Because I know your intentions are pure, even if the industry's isn't. We’ll do our best to protect you from the harsher aspects of this process, but you need to be prepared for the fact that your every move will be watched closely. This journey, while deeply personal for you, will be a spectacle for others. It’s a difficult balance, but if we handle it right, it could also be an opportunity for you to share your story on your own terms. To share Hajun's story..." He took off his glasses and wiped the bridge of his shirt with his nose, giving himself a minute. "It'll be a great opportunity for you to cement his memory as something positive rather than a tragedy. To allow us to remember him the way we knew him." His voice was somewhat shaky and you turned away not wishing to see him cry. Jiho, Sunwoo, and Haru were all sitting in a deep silence, and you didn't look up in case you were to see a stray tear.

"Housing will be arranged close to the other members, so you’ll have a support system nearby." Mr. Kim's voice was back to an even enough tone as he pulled himself together. "The company understands that this is a strange and difficult situation, so they want to make sure you feel supported - emotionally, not just professionally." Mr. Kim stopped once more, as if in thought. "You’ll have access to counseling and any other resources you might need as you transition into this new chapter of your life."

His words hung in the air, heavy with both promise and the unspoken weight of what lay ahead. But there was also a sense of hope, a belief that, despite the challenges, this could be the start of something meaningful -not just for you, but for everyone who had been touched by Hajun’s legacy.

And he was right, it was an opportunity for you to shape the narrative of Hajun.

"What about you guys?" The words almost flew off your tongue, you didn't even comprehend thinking of the question. "What is going to happen with you guys?"

Jiho’s voice was low, a hint of resignation coloring his words as he explained the situation. "We’ve disbanded," he said, the finality of the statement hanging heavy in the air. "Losing two members back-to-back...losing Hajun..." His breath was soft. "None of us want to step on stage again. Music doesn't bring that same joy. If it wasn't for you, than I more than sure all of us would have completely departed from the idol life."

"We were already on hiatus after...after the scandal..." Sunwoo didn't even speak their former leader's name. "And now that we lost our maknae..." His voice held a deep affection and love for Hajun, and your heart pounded with an ache. "It was inevitable."

You nodded in understanding. Haru's voice ringing last.

"Music isn't something I enjoy anymore." He spoke in Japanese, and looked up as if he could see through the roof of the car. If he could see his best friend. "It's just a means of work to distract me."

His dark eyes met yours. "But at least it'll be with you Hime. So, I get to see a little bit of Hajun. Right Hime?" His voice was cracking and his eyes watering.

That kindness being flooded by something that mirrored your own woes. But never disappearing. No, not fully. Never fully.

Even in the quiet, aching absence of what once was, Haru still radiated a brightness that couldn’t be dimmed. Even with the knowledge of the torment he carried inside, you still selfishly basked in the compassion that encompassed him. His smile would remain as warm as ever, even if there was a subtle shadow behind it, a testament to the internal struggle against the anguish he bore in silence.

He was light. He was good. Too good.

Hajun was good. He was so good. Too good. Too good for whatever this world was.

The fandom had been right to call Hajun and Haru their spring. The love and warmth and peace and life that had radiated from both of them was like an eternal spring. Like the fresh blooming of flowers after the melting of the winter snow.

They were spring.

And Hajun's loss was like the wilting of the first cherry blossoms, their vibrant beauty fading too soon.

A death that left Haru standing alone in a season that would never fully return.

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If you or someone you know is suffering from suicidal ideation or thoughts of harming themselves, please reach out for help. You never know when someone's last day will be; no one ever does. But if you can help - even just a tiny bit, sometimes a word, text, or even a call can be a catalyst for positive change.

988 - USA Suicide Prevention Hotline | 24 Hours 111 - Helpline UK | 24 hours 1393 - Suicide Hotline Korea | 24 hours

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@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg

@0325tiny @resi4skz @soaplickerrr

@leezanetheofficial @stressymessyana @istglevi-gotmesimping

@hannamoon143 @kayleefriedchicken

[shini--chan]

Yandere Character Sheet II - 1p England / Arthur Kirkland

My depiction of Arthur here is harsh. I'll freely admit that it is due to a bias I have against the British due growing up in one of the Empire's late colonies and family history. Blazes, some of my relatives refuse to speak English because they regard it as "the language of the Antichrist".

Trigger warnings: colonialism, controlling behaviour, manipulation, mental break, trauma, physical torture, emotional/verbal abuse, victim blaming

Blend in - Are the red flags obvious? Are they even aware that their behaviour is wrong? Do they even care? 

Arthur is generally a cantankerous, cynical and proud man, so it would be more difficult to tell which of his actions are relationship red flags as opposed to personality red flags. Of course, this is also a gross oversimplification of the situation since he is complicated. When he wants to be, he can be genuinely kind, polite and caring. It is simply that the closer you are to him emotionally, the higher his expectations are of you. With you being the apple of his eye, you'd have the honour of finding out that being the subject of his affections is worse than having to bear his apathy or even ire. 

One of the reasons for this is that he'd have a fixed ideal of what constitutes as good and proper, and he would require you to conform to that image. Depending on your character and disposition, this could be painful for you. But surely you'll embrace your cruel fate, for isn't love the sweetest form of suffering. Pragmatic and cynical as he would be and would claim to be, Arthur would still be a romantic at heart. To him, meeting you would be fate, and you would do well to likewise recognise that your fate lies with him. Generally he wouldn't accept any words or actions that would go against this perceived destiny - he wouldn't take them seriously. 

Overall, he would see you as lesser than him, and therefore not as deserving of respect and regard. Much of the politeness and charm he would display to you wouldn't stem from seeing you as an equal or from thinking highly of your thoughts and emotions, but rather from the sort of charity given to the invalid and the naive. 

This flows nicely into the next red flag, in that he can be unbelievably paternalistic and conceited. You acting out, trying to defend your boundaries, or even just not fitting into what he deems appropriate would be deemed as you being unreasonable or having a phase. All in all, it would be very difficult to criticise him since he would first have to view you as a person worth listening to, and that wouldn't be a given. Even if your relationship has reached that level of respect, he would be quick to deliver some sharp retorts. Also, he would simply not care that some of the things he does are reprehensible. Either the end would justify the means, or the other people are inferior and conventional morals can't be applied to them. 

Additionally, he would be prone to making decisions for you, without your input. Mind you, he would allow you to place your orders by yourself when you go out to wine and dine. Though, he would decide what you wear, when you go to sleep, what you eat and drink at home, and the media you consume. This would start way before he would manage to fully isolate/kidnap you. Arthur regards himself as more apt when it comes to making choices about your life than you are. 

Related to that above, he would manage to make you go along with all that (at least in the beginning) by acclimating you to his controlling nature. He wouldn't dominate your life all at once and the more he'd enter your life, the more he'd determine how you'd live your own life. He'd demand that you tell him of all your movements and errands, make you let him look through your letters and bills and have you give him the passwords to all your accounts. On top of that, he would micromanage you at times. 

Another warning sign would be how unpredictable he would be. When it comes to social interactions, what happens is very dependent on Arthur's. He is far from emotionless, and is very passionate indeed. However, he isn't one to wear his heart on his sleeve or display his emotions openly, which would make it difficult to assess the situation at times. A bad time on the way home from work can decide if you receive affection or are pushed away with sharp remarks. Additionally, it would be the little things that would set him off the most, while he would remain stoic and calm in the face of large calamities.

Compatriot - Who aids them? Who condemns them? Are there ways you can convince their friends/colleges/underlings to help you? 

Part of Arthur's magic is convincing others of his superiority. There would be many that would aid him simply because they'd falsely believe he is all-powerful and that moving against him is futile. These sorts would be the worst - you'd have their sympathy and pity and they would likely believe you fully if you'd recount the lived horror and they'd still resolutely refuse to help you. On the contrary, they would even encourage you to give in to him, to simply weather the storm instead of fighting against it. These people would also be the hardest to persuade and the fastest to betray you, since they would fully buy into the illusion of Arthur's invulnerability and seek to gain small favours from their "Lord and Saviour". 

Then there would be those that would be on his side because they'd agree with his world views and morality. Best not to bank on their support, because Arthur would always be grander in their minds than you. Unless … there is nothing more feverant than a disillusioned devotee, eh? There, you could get their support, you would just have to teach them successfully that their angel is a demon. 

Naturally, England would also have many enemies. So some of them, all that would matter would be to land a blow on Arthur, so they would have no qualms or second thoughts of helping you. They might even "be on your side" before you'd catch on to Kirkland's true colours. Perhaps they would even be the ones to shine light on his less appealing traits. One thing that you should keep in mind though, that they wouldn't care about what would happen to you, as long as they could hurt Arthur. 

Aside from the obvious category of people that hate Arthur and who would also be sympathetic to your cause, there would also be the normal people that just want to go about their day-to-day lives. Those that might work for Arthur; they might trip you up if they like him, they might ignore your forged documents and stolen money if they hate him. Generally, many people downplay the power and the influence of the ordinary, working man. Arthur would be no exception to this rule, and could use this against him. 

Dominion - What actions are especially pleasing to them?

Above all else - you defer to him. He wants to be your guiding light in the darkness. He is supposed to be your teacher and protector and provider, and he wouldn't settle for anything less. For you to recognise and accept your role in the dynamic between the two of you would be a boon. It would be a relief that he wouldn't have to chastise and punish you like a wayward child. It would give him a bit of hope.

Interestingly enough, he would still desire for you to be resolute. Silk hiding steel comes to mind and if you're the sort to faint at the slightest sign of trouble, he would deem you a product of bad breeding. You are to be a rose, and your thorns should be sharp. Of course, this shouldn't come at his expense, for he doesn't want somebody that would constantly stand against him. You should be the sort that is a fun conquest, and a steadfast companion that doesn't cause more trouble than you solve. The deep irony here is that he wishes that you aren't a child, all while being continuously paternalistic. 

Appeal to his finer sensibilities - have etiquette down pat, be educated in that you know the classics and poetry and the BBC nature documentaries. Be easy on the eye and balm for the soul to him, make him feel respected and allow him to rant about god and the world without always throwing in your two cents. Be attentive to his needs, whether it be a shoulder massage, a bottle of port or tickets for the nearest rugby match. Communication without many words necessary would be prefered. On your side, such a skill would even be needed if you want to survive him. 

Tied into that - he would want the little things taken care of by you. Have a meal ready when he comes home, and the bathroom scrubbed and the washing done. Still he would require the dichotomy of a homebody and an adventurer, at least to some extent (and you thought he was going to leave you alone at home). Everywhere though, you'd be expected to put his well being above your own. After all, if he is out cold, then who will take care of you. No matter how strong and capable you are, he will forever regard himself as your superior. 

Conform to the values of the time. If there is something that irks Arthur beyond measure, it would be not understanding something. He wouldn't understand you if your mind runs on models of the world he is not familiar with. Of course, if you don't see things his way yet then it is no issue - diamonds commonly need polishing and cutting before they are perfect. It would be a re-edition of the white man's burden. 

Flight - What do you have to do in order to escape them?

It would be easier than you'd expect. Arthur's main spiel to make you stay by him would be to make you think that escape is futile, and that he is all-powerful and all-knowing when it comes to you. He would aim at "demonstrating" this by stalking you or also letting you escape only to capture you again. This wouldn't be his only failsafe. Perhaps he'll socially isolate you, so that you believe he is the only person in the world that you can trust, or he'll convince you that you're a horrible person, and he is only doing on to you what you deserve (he might even believe the latter himself). So what you have to do, is break the mental fetters, and then matters already become easier. 

Two pathways are recommended: Either do something completely haywire that he wouldn't expect. Send yourself abroad per post, join a travelling circus troupe or become a nun. There are only so many avenues of escape that he can close down, and the most obvious would be the first to go. Or you could elect to hide in plain sight and slip away. Lose him in a shopping mall or in a crowded street. A concert would be even better. Afterwards, it would be advisable to act normal - because he would be looking for a harried person. 

And have some tranquillisers/sleeping pills at hand. You'll need them to cope with the fallout. 

Hospitality - What is your life like with them? How much does it deviate from your former life?

You'd basically have to adopt an Arthur-approved lifestyle and discard everything that came for. He would dictate the tempo and direction, with you having precious little say in the matter. You'd only have your way if your interests coincide with England's or you plant the ideas in his head and let him think it was his idea in the first place. 

You'd become another fixture in his environment and thus everything that is his would become yours as well. The living space would be his and he would share it with you. Whether you like it or not, you would start orienting yourself around his routines and ideas. A side effect of this would be that he would control what you would read, watch and listen to. When locked up and subject to his tender mercies, you would be powerless to obtain any information other than what he allows. 

Aside from that, there are too many restrictions and rules to count, and you would only be able to have some comfort once you learn to navigate the minefield. In total, your life would be more akin to life in an old girls boarding school, or even a prison. The food would be just as bland, unless you'd take matters into your own hands. 

With him, your opinion would matter very little and his would be everything. Every criticism of your person would have to be acted on immediately, and every wish treated as an order. Of course, he would detest it if you'd simply allow him to walk all over you, but he would equally loath it if you would stubbornly resist it. It would be a balancing act that you would have to learn to master.

 In the beginning you might be inclined to point out how his treatment of you would contradict his own morals. Arthur wouldn't care - this is a point that can't be stressed enough. Conventional morals wouldn't apply to you, in his eyes. Besides, you would be his plaything, something with which he can engage in all his base desires and dark urges without any repercussions. Somebody at his station would have to punish him for him to genuinely become better towards you. 

There are few holds barred for him when it comes to you, and that makes him all the more dangerous. Should the mood strike him due to your bad behaviour, then he would bring out the thumb screws and the brands and the water torture. He probably wouldn't want to mar you, or at least not too much. You should still be prepared for burns of all sorts and being twisted into various uncomfortable positions and restrained. Here, the menu would be a lengthy one. 

Of course, there would be the social aspect. One of the first things Arthur would do would be to chip away at your social circle. This could be either through slander and manipulation, or more criminal methods like framing, drugging and murder. Eitherway, soon he'll be the only one you'll have, and since he is a jealous man, you would either only be able to interact with a carefully curated group of people, or not at all. 

Order - What are the rules you have to adhere to?

There are too many rules to count when it comes to Arthur Kirkland. He wouldn't spell out all of them for you anyway, since a lot of them are self-evident in his eyes. Besides, he'd want you to live according to the spirit of the rules, rather than him having to lay out an exact wording only for you to engage in loophole abuse. Regardless, here are some of mentioned rules:

If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all. Mind you, this is only towards him - other people are fair game. Although, you'd have to be smart about it and avoid causing second hand embarrassment. This would be easier said than done when you're in company, since your actions would automatically reflect on Arthur, once a certain point in your relationship has been reached. If you'd curse and chew out the world with him, he would be delighted. If you would turn your insults on him, he would burn with rage at the insolence and the impertinence. How dare you undermine his authority! Verbal sparring would be occasionally welcomed, though you'd have to have the sensitivity to tell when the ice is too thin to stand on. 

Behave yourself when we are in mixed company. Even when we are in company in general. To him, you are a pet project, living evidence that he can fashion perfection out of flesh and bone and a willful spirit. Totting you out to other people would come with the expectation that you be a living exhibit of his talents. As such, he wouldn't take it well if you misbehave. Mind you, he wouldn't be above humiliating you in mixed company just to save his own reputation. 

Keep up with the etiquette, will you? Belonging to him would mean you'd have to comply with a whole host of rules and rituals and mannerisms. This can vary depending on his social standing and the time period. The main point would be that you wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb. The irony here is that he would desire you to have the skills and aptitude to get along well with your peers all while wanting you all to himself.

Don't make me repeat myself, pet. There are some phrases Arthur would repeat around you over and over again, like an especially devout priest. He would want you to internalise some truths after all. On the flip side, he would loathe to have to repeat himself when he talks with you, or to have to lay out his instructions a second time. Should he be peeved, and then be forced to repeat himself just because you weren't paying attention, then you would have a punishment awaiting you. Above all, don't talk back when he orders or chastises you - he wouldn't hold back with the yelling and the insults and the condensation if you do. 

 Be honest with me, savvy? I can't smell what you are thinking, after all. For somebody as cunning and devious as Arthur Kirkland, he gets extraordinarily upset when he is given a taste of his own medicine. He would demand you be forthright and honest with him, something that would be very difficult if you don't want to be with him and don't want to anger him at the same time. The reason behind this would be that he would want to trust you, and he wouldn't be able to trust you if he'd have to cut through your lies and half truths and word games. Or if he would only receive your complaints from around five corners, or something of the sort. Asides, if you're the sort to voice your displeasure and be open about your thoughts and feelings (to him, it should be said) then he wouldn't be in for any nasty surprises. 

Rehabilitation - How much will they change you? Will they break you? How much therapy would you need in the event that you get rid of them? 

Arthur Kirkland is the sort of man that would leave scars. He'd want you to be unable to live without him and he'd strive to condition you to dissolve into hysterics should you be separated from him. In the case he should succeed, you'd be fine for a few days and then descend into such emotional turmoil. This would be because he'd have your behavioural structures tailored to him, and without him to act as your focal point, you would grow anxious. Be careful not to go crawling back to him then - each escape would be more mentally challenging then the one before. 

Even when you'd be away from him, his rules would be so ingrained in you that you'd follow them on a subconscious level. You'd find yourself fixing your posture all the time, and weighing each word up against gold before uttering it. Out of reflex you'd discreetly check your surroundings to see where Arthur is and no matter how much you'd police your thoughts, his cynical attitude towards other human beings would have rubbed off on you and infected your mental processes. Arthur would continue to accompany you as the devil on your shoulder, as the voice of your inner critic, as a demon that would haunt your dreams, even if he would no longer be physically present. You'd have to be self-aware and self-conscious to rid yourself of those fetters. 

Aside from that, he wouldn't hesitate to break you to achieve his goals. There would be regrets on his behalf, yes. However, he'd never regret breaking you to the point that he would strive to make amends and see the errors of his ways. Instead, he would blame you for being too rebellious, for having such a brittle character that you broke instead of bending to his will, for being of ill stock and bad breeding. Admitting wrongdoing would be akin to weakness for him, something he would never allow himself to display in front of you.

Perhaps you would retain enough sanity and energy even when broken to flee him, perhaps you would develop a secondary or even tertiary personality to deal with the trauma. Either way, a life without Arthur would be even more cumbersome and hard than when you'd have been whole. It would take years until you'd be able to function normally again, and that is only if the best case scenario of you having a stable life without Arthur hunting you, occurs. 

Zeal - Do they fall fast or slow? What is their reaction to their own feelings?

Ever the romantic at heart, passion would grip him quickly, yet he would be very slow to act on it. It wouldn't be the first case of limerence on his side, and he would want to be sure of his feelings and their longevity before committing to you. Ironically, the more he'd try to wrestle his emotions into control and bottle them, the more potent and out of control they would become. Finally, they would overwhelm him and he would find himself rationalising the most heinous actions. 

The same justifications he would use towards himself would be applied towards other people, maybe even towards you. As time passes, the self-justifications and such would come ever easier, and also more extreme. It would finally reach a point where morality would be flung out the window. Why should he heed boundaries, if there is no punishment for overstepping? Maybe you find some countermeasure within your power that you can exercise to keep him in line. Just don't harbour the illusion that it'll work forever. 

Art doesn't belong to me, nor does the character!

[karenssupplystore]

Pranking the 141 with your niece (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!reader)

Warnings: F!Reader (She/Her pronouns) (Sorry!!)

Word count: 1177

Thinking about reader and Simon pranking the 141 with your sister's baby. 

The 141 was aware that Simon had a lover but knew little further. Little comments under the Brits breath about the'missus’ when having to step out of the room from the buzz of his phone and when he slides a fresh container of home baked goods into the kitchen with delicate handwriting on a pink sticky saying "For you, and the boys <3" were all they knew of you. 

In all honesty, it was more than Simon wanted to share about you at first, but as time passed and he got more certain that you were not going to leave, he began to mention you more frequently. For the reserved soldier, it used to mean once in a blue moon, but now it meant more, and the boys ate up every crumb. Some more than others. 

“So… Have ye put a ring on her finger yet?” 

“Johnny, what’re ya on about?”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

So, when Simon's phone rings again on an otherwise quiet evening, the men's gaze shifts to the Brit as he stands.

“The missus?”

“Aye, she’s here. You all can meet the two of ‘em.”

Soap and Gaz exchange confused and intrigued glances when the phrase'meeting the two' is said, but they remain silent as the Brit exits to go get you.

“The two of ‘em? What’s he saying, He got two lasses now?” Soap muses nearly as soon as the heavy metal door closes and moves to sit next to Gaz on one of the couches.

"I don't know; surely he wouldn't bring both birds if he had 'em," the two men say quietly before the door to the common area swings open and in walks a gorgeous-looking woman with a chubby little babe on her hip, followed closely by Simon. 

“... and that’s what I told her,” you finish, finding the two men’s gaze with a polite smile as you motion for your husband to set the baby bag down. "Oh, and do get the binky with the... Yes, thank you, my love.”

The looks of disbelief, confusion, and pride for their lieutenant exchanged by each of the men are nearly enough to break you, but you manage to stay in character, pressing a gentle kiss on Simon's cheek when he hands you the binky from the bag. Your niece babbles happily as she reaches for the binky, which settles her on the spot on your hip.

“Well, I didn’t realise just how far you two ‘ad gone with what little our lieutenant ‘ere has told us, but it’s wonderful to ‘ave you ‘ere all the same,” a new voice comes from the doorway of the next hall over. “You’re welcome anytime, love.”

Your husband's massive hand rests on your hip, a comforting touch that keeps you close and lets you know you're safe without being rough. "Thanks, Capitan, but she doesn't need to pop 'round too often." You roll your eyes, chuckling at the comment, but don't say anything, instead thanking Price with a small smile and nod.

As Price walks away, you return your focus to the two men on the couch; one of them, you suppose, is called Soap, is waving at the baby in your arms, much to the child's enjoyment. With a small elbow from the other man, Gaz, he takes his turn and waves to your niece, who giggles happily, earning a triumphant smile from the man. 

“Here, why don’t you two take the babe for a moment? I’ve been dying to see what pictures Simon has put in his room.” You say, taking the baby from your hip and placing her on the lap of Gaz, who takes the child, gaining another happy babble. 

“You two better look after my wife’s niece right proper, you ‘ear me?” The stern words make both Gaz and Soap look at the child, but before they can look up and ask for clarification, Simon has already whisked you away down the hall toward his room.

"Did you see their faces?" I've never seen a military man so shocked," you add with a grin as Simon guides you into his room, resting a hand on your lower back. "I did. "The both of 'em deserved a little shock, nosin' around my personal life and all," irritation sat heavy in the words.

"Oh, you know their questions come from a good place." You tilt your head up and step closer to him, the delicate touch of your fingertips smoothing down his shirt collar and relieving the strain in his shoulders.

“I know, but I don’t like sharin’ what’s mine,” he sighs softly as his hands rest on your hips, thumbs tracing circles on the exposed skin that is seen as the hem of your shirt lifts slightly when you wrap your arms around his neck. 

“Possessive, are we?” You tease, eliciting a little smirk from scarred lips and a little pinch to your hip. 

“‘Course I am; I thought you liked it too.”

With a playful swat to his arm and a roll of your eyes, you settle in to look up at him, a grateful smile on your lips. "I do, but you don't need to go off and ruin your relationship with the guys." "Though if you ever want to play harmless pranks on them again..."

This causes Simon's eyes to roll, and he shakes his head, brown eyes falling on you as if you were heaven on earth.

"What?" You giggle as his gaze sweeps over your face, causing a little blush on your cheeks.

“Nothin’,” a calloused hand comes up to your face to trace over your jawline before settling in to cup your cheek. “Just thinkin’ about what a grand mam you’d make. “You’re so soft wi’ your niece; reckon you’d be a proper mam with our own little’ ones runnin’ about.”

“Are you saying you want to start a family?” Your words are hesitant at first, but the truth in his gaze and his touch are absolute. “Have our own little family?”

"Yea," he says softly, slipping his hand up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. Taking a step closer, he leans down to brush his lips against the skin of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "You're gonna be a bloody gorgeous mam all full of our child."

"Simon," you whisper as his lips descend to your neck, leaving gentle, barely there kisses on your skin. "My niece.."

“Shh.. the lads’ve got ‘er, don’t you worry. She’s in good ‘ands; just relax.” Before you can retort, his hands slide down your waist, and you’re being lifted off the ground by strong arms that carry you towards his bed, eliciting a little yelp from you that in turn makes a smirk pull at his lips.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"How long d'ye think it takes to show a couple o'photos, eh?" Soap says as he bounces the babe on his knee and turns to Gaz.

"Oh, I don't think it's just photos they're shairin'."

"Bloody 'ell."

A/N: I think I’m starting to get the hang on writing in accents but it’s still very much in the works! Also so sorry that this one is f!reader, most of my works are gender neutral or as much so as I can do but this one just ended up being feminine. Also also, come talk to me!! my asks are always open and I’d love to chat with some of you!!

[kenslilove]

᯽⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ  BEEG BEEFY MEN—

A.N. this is a repost (wiff some much needed editing) from my old blog, plus i added in mister souf terano and mister miguel o'hara <33 they deserve to be in a post all about the biggest n the beefiest <3

FT. Bokuto, Taiju, Tengen, Toji, Osamu, Draken, South, Miguel

W. nsfw, MINORS DNI, fem bodied reader, size kink, manhandling, ptv, d/s dynamics, daddy kink, overstimulation, edging, implied age gap for toji’s part, mentions of creampie, slight exhibitionism for Osamu, drool, cute pet names like baby, princess, etc, titles used: daddy, papa, sir, papi

Bokuto: 

Bokuto who works out 6 days a week and still runs on the 7th 😔 he’s always working on his muscles, making sure he’s physically fit and always up to par for volleyball. Iwaizumi keeps him on a strict workout regime and he doesn’t mind that, considering it shows results and makes him feel good. You honestly don’t mind the schedule either, because you get to watch him pump bars over his head, muscles contracting and rippling, sweat dripping in beads along his toned chest. He’s a god really, with a build like that, and your eyes can’t help but stayed glued to him. It’s only when he clears his throat that you realize you’ve been caught, cheeks suddenly starting to burn as you snap your eyes away from his abs and up to his face. That smug look of his doesn’t help your embarrassment, making you bite your lip sheepishly. “Enjoyin the view, birdy?��� He asks through a grin, and you don’t bother lying, you’ve been caught away so you nod, heart doing a little flip in your chest when he holds a hand out to you. You don’t hesitate to go to his side, allowing his hand to guide your own over the plane of his abs. Your fingertips trace the defined muscles there, despite how they still contract and sweat and you sigh softly, pupils basically in little heart shapes when you look back up at him. “You look so good, Koutarou….” 

He’s got you laid out flat on his workout bench, clothes were haphazardly thrown across the padded flooring. Your slips hang open in a silent cry as he looms over you again, chest pressed right up to your back as his cock bullies its way to the hilt back into your gummy walls. His groan right next to your ear is almost overwhelming, his body swallowing you up and taking over all your senses as his hips hump up against your ass, pushing and pulling his cock shallowly in and out of you. When you let out a hiccuping sigh against the leather of the bench he chuckles softly, teeth grazing against your ear. “Liked bein stuffed like this, huh baby? Wanna be stuffed with cum too, don’t you?” You nod because the words don’t form, becoming lost on your tongue and replaced with whines as soon as Bokuto starts rotating his hips. One thick arm manages to slip underneath you and his palm rests open on your tummy, uncaring of the sweat and slick that makes everything a little messier. “Cum f’me.” His words vibrate against your back, his index finger managing to find your clit to add a steady pressure to the pulsing bud. You would have  jolted, but you’re trapped beneath him, so all you can do is let out a shaky sob. “Cum f’papa and I’ll give you exactly what you want~” 

Taiju: 

Taiju is a busy man, running his successful restaurant was a full-time job that took up a lot of his time. And yet despite this, he always made time for his baby. He’d take you along to special events, and business meetings, but especially to suit fittings. You were the one that made him rekindle his relationship with Mitsuya, knowing that he would be the best person for the job in terms of making a suit that would actually fit Taiju’s size and stature. You claimed you went to talk to Mitsuya, which may have been part of the reason, but Taiju knew why you went along to every fitting. You got to see him almost naked, arms outstretched and shoulder blades contracting as Mitsuya took his proper measurements. He watched you through the full-length mirrors that covered the studio walls. How you’d press your thighs together, squirming in the chair you sat in. How your eyes would get glossy when he’d slip the brand new suit jacket on, testing the fit and how it would look perfect on his frame. The best is when he’d pull the suit pants on for the first time and your eyes were literally glued to his butt, lip bitten between your lips almost swollen. Mitsuya would leave the room as Taiju undressed into his normal clothes, and it’s only then that he’d scoff softly, eyes a bit narrowed as he finally catches your attention. “You’re so obvious.” He states, only making you fiddle with the hem of your skirt a bit more as you try to play innocent. “Staring at me like a piece of meat. Bet your panties are soaked through.” 

As soon as the two of you got back to your shared home he’d have you pinned against a wall. If you had it your way you would’ve done it in the car, but Taiju wanted to make you wait and teased you the whole drive. Reminder you that only whores get that hot and bothered so easily, held your thigh in his big hand cause he knew it made you melt seeing how he could so easily grip the fat there. He picked you up at this point, your skirt bunched up at your waist and your panties ripped clean off. His hands gripped harshly to the fat of thighs, holding you up against the wall with nothing but strength as he used the force of gravity to fuck up into you. The slap of his hips was wet from how much you were dribbling, his eyes wide and feral as he watched your head lull back against the wall, a bit of drool leaving your lips that were stuck hung in a silent scream. He grins, lips littering sloppy kisses along your neck, uncaring of the marks he left behind. “Pretty lil dumb thing…” he murmurs, grinding his hips so his cock could thoroughly stir your insides. “This is all you think about, isn’t it? Getting fucked open by my big cock?” That caught your attention, nodding your head as your nails leave crescents into his shoulder. You’re mumbling “yes sir, yes Taiju” as his speed suddenly picks up, loving the feeling of your breasts bouncing against his chest. “Such a good girl.” 

Tengen: 

Tengen knows he’s attractive, he has 4 wives who all adore him, of course, he’s attractive. He also knows very that he’s built like a god, with muscles that bulge just right, flex and make him look even better. Sure, he got this way from hard work and dedication, but it helps too that he’s naturally flashy, with a good style and personality to go with his looks. He knows that people watch him, he knows that people flirt with him, and rather openly. Most of his wives have gotten used to this, but you? You’re a little newer, can’t help but be a bit protective and a lil insecure when it comes to your partner. So when you see two women flirting with him at a festival, something like jealousy flames within your belly. You can’t even help the way you get upset, lips twisting into a pout. It’s when one of the random women has the audacity to put her hand onto his bicep, giving it a squeeze that you lose it. You cling onto him, basically prying him away from their grimy hands and sending them a death glare in the process. The girls got the memo instantly, slinking away with grumbles and pouts of their own. To make matters worse Tengen is oblivious to it all. He was used to this, people hitting on him, but you acting like this? “What’s wrong?” He asks, the amusement in his tone only making you ten times angrier. Rather than explaining yourself you flip him off, an action that only fuels him further to get an answer out of you. 

Your back is trembling up against his chest, his fingers so lazily petting at your clit driving you absolutely wild but you can’t do anything about it. Your hands are trapped behind you between your bodies, bound by the silky material of the cord that usually holds his robe together. His cock somehow looks even bigger right now, stuffed within your quivering pussy and stretching it open. His base is covered already in a layer of your sheen that’s been steadily leaking out of you and yet he still hasn’t let you cum. You Yelp from the sudden impact of his finger tips against your swollen numb, fat tears finally spilling from your lashes and onto your hot cheeks. “Why would you ever need to be jealous, pretty? Ever?” He questions you again, fingers going back to slowly rolling your clit. You let out a soft sob, head lulling back into his broad chest as you try to buck your hips along his cock, only for his free hand to keep you firmly in place. “Don’t you know I picked you for a reason? Don’t you know I love you so, so much that I wanted you and only you to join me and the girls in our marriage?” His voice lowers as you start to flutter around his cock again, and his fingers start to speed up, finally. “Won’t ask ya again, tell me, do you know I love you?” You cry out, lips bitten swollen as you tilted your head back enough to meet his gaze. He flashes you a smile, the first one you’ve gotten since the start of this punishment and you whimper, nodding dumbly. “I-I know, I-I know daddy, m’sorry, was bein dumb—“ He shushes you with his lips, finally moving his hips. He bucks them up into you, making your whole body bounce in his lap from the sheer size difference. “Not dumb, never dumb darlin.. ya just forget sometimes…” The knot in your stomach finally snaps as he circles your clit, the squeeze of your pussy making his groan into your open mouth. “Just forget how perfect ya are f’me, that’s all.” 

Toji: 

Toji, big big Toji who knows very well that most ladies are attracted to him for his size. He likes to go for the little shy ones. The ones that stare at him with innocent eyes, look at him a little longer than they should and always manage to get caught. He’ll send you a wink, sometimes even wave playfully just to get you all the more embarrassed. His favourite type to go for though, as horrible as it is, are the girls his son is always bringing home. It’s a little fucked up, isn’t it? But Toji knows, knows that his son may try his best, but he can’t please a woman like he can, not yet anyway. So as his father, it’s his job to keep Megumi’s girls pleased when he can’t do so himself. He sees it as helping of course, surely the girl will stick with his son longer if she knows she’ll get a treat every time she comes over…

“Skirts shorter than usual…” Toji muses, his eyes lit up in amusement as his fingers brush over the soft pleats found the fabric. His hips are snapping back into your ass again just so your lips hang open, the start of a yelp about to escape had he not shoved the hem of the skirt between your lips. You muffle a whine into the material, fingers curling up against the wall you were currently pressed up against. “Musta wanted me to notice, isn’t that right dollface?” He says between a chuckle, grin getting bigger as he gets a better grip on your hips, making you stick your ass out a bit more and arch your back for him. This angle allows his cock head to smack into your cervix, kissing it with the tip and threatening and to break through. His balls are heavy as they slap against your skin, only adding to the lewd, wet slaps that echo from your cute pussy. He leans closer to your ear, whispering up against the soft flesh when you let out a string of sobs about how you’re gunna cum. “Yea? Gunna cum for daddy are ya?” He laughs when you nod, teeth sinking into your shoulder as one thick hand slides over your hips to tease on your clit, helping you reach your high faster. “Go on, make sure you’re loud enough that your boyfriend knows his daddy is fuckinh you this good.” 

Osamu:

Osamu has always been the bulkier of the two twins. His muscles weren’t as lean as Atsumu’, even in their volleyball days. He was built bigger, shoulders more broad, the baby fat on his cheeks remaining longer. Now as an adult his muscles didn’t go away, oh no, he needs them to lift the heavy bags of rice to and from the restaurant, but he has certainly filled out. Shoulders spreading, biceps bulging. A light layer of fat forms over his chest, the muscles underneath just making him look bigger. The tshirts he always wears shows these off, and although he takes no mind to how his body has changed, you certainly have. It makes you drool, when his arms flex as he quickly cuts up vegetables, when he grunts as he lifts a rice bag on his shoulder. The best is when he ties his apron around him, Accentuating just how small his waist still is despite how he’s broadened out. He doesn’t even realize how attractive he is, honestly. You can’t even help yourself when you gawk at him at work, and you certainly can’t help how heat pools between your legs. He starts to really notice when you pout up at him, pretty legs rubbing together in the stool you sit at…

“Couldn’t even wait until we got home.” He’s grumbling his words against your lips, as if he’s not happy to have his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. “Too fuckin spoiled too wait.” He added, his reprimanding turning into a grunt when your nails run through his hair, scratching lightly over his scalp just the way he likes it. He latches onto your lower lip, suckling it like his favourite treat as his big hands grab at your thighs. He tenderly squeezes the flesh he loves before gripping it, easily hauling you up onto the counter top he was previously making food on. He’s thankful you’re wearing a skirt today, because all it takes is one good tug and your panties are ripped clean off, exposing your dampened lower lips to him and making goosebumps rise on your lips. He clicks his tongue when you start to complain about how those were your favourite pair, one of his palms pressing into your tummy to easily push you back into the cold countertop. “Quit yer bitchin, I’ll get a new pair.” You were about to shoot back, but all your words get lost on your tongue when he spits onto your pussy, two thick fingers locked in and rubbing on your clit. A smirk twitches on his lips, shaking his head as he watches just how easily you come undone for him. He presses a kiss to your hip bone. “That’s it, be a good girl and take what you want, gunna fuck ya real good.” 

Draken:

we all know I could go on for hours about draken 😔 I mean do you blame me? He’s huge, the biggest of all his friends in both height and build. He’s always been naturally big, the width of his shoulders sometimes making it hard for him to find proper attire that fits him comfortably. Hence why he settles for tank tops a lot, gives him more space to breath. Would never admit it out loud but he 100% is very aware when you’re checking him out and he LOVES it. Draken doesn’t like to flaunt himself but when you do it it’s different. Makes his cheeks heat up a bit and his cock twitch knowing how damn lucky he is to have someone as pretty as you obessed with him like that. So he’ll let you stare, whether it be while he’s working at the shop, working out, or simply when the two of you are out. He’ll let your eyes linger on him, sometimes he’ll even flex on purpose, holding back laughter when you suck in a sharper breath. He will tease you about it, sometimes of course cause he can’t even help himself. He’ll turn and smirk at you, “like what you see, princess?” Or “my eyes are up here, goofy.” But comments like that always leave you in a huff and he’ll have to chase you after to make up for it. Which is fine, but sometimes, he lets you linger, lets you really stare and get yourself worked up, cause that’s when you’ll pounce him. You have such little patience, and it’s so so amusing to your big boyfriend when you try to drag his ass around to get what you desire from him. 

As soon as the two of you had returned home from your date you had dragged Draken to the couch, not even bothering to bring him to the bedroom because it had been far too long and you were craving him already. He had worn that tank top you love so much, with the low-cut arm holes that show off his toned sides and arms. You just couldn’t take it. You needed to have him. Which is how you ended up straddling his lap, needy whines leaving your lips as your fingers desperately tried to unbuckle his belt, simply settling for pawing at his crotch when you couldn’t seem to get it. He’s grinning, holding back little strings of laughter. “Eager huh?” Normally you would have snapped back at a comment like that, but when his fingers finally freed his cock, you simply sighed in contentment, licking your lips at how it stood at attention, leaking so pretty just for you to sit on. You had already discarded your bottoms, lifting yourself on your hunches and easing yourself easily onto his cock. The stretch was always mind-numbing, back arching and goosebumps forming on your thighs as you slowly worked your way over him. The little whimpers, whines, needy noises you made was a melody to Draken’s ears, his hands massaging the supple skin of your thighs as you moved at your own pace. He groaned softly when your pussy started to flutter around him already, your walls being stubborn as usual when first taking him in. “Fuck—“ he gritted out, pupils dilating when you looked at him with teary eyes, lips puffy as you huffed. “Help me, Ken, want all of you.” His hands slid from your thighs to your waist, bearing his teeth in an amused grin as he lifted you up with ease, just enough that his head sat between your walls. He didn’t hesitate when he slammed you back down on his cock, sheathing all the way on his cock, the knock of it up against your cervix making your breath leave you in a gasp. He doesn’t let up from there, using the bruising grip he has on your love handles to bounce you up and down on his cock. “So. Fucking. Needy— and you can’t even take what you want on your own? Really are just a dumb lil baby aren’t you, princess?” You’re sobbing from the brutal pace, head lulling onto his shoulder as he bounces you like you’re nothing. And to him, it’s a simple task, the pleasure of the pretty tight walls milking his cock only making it easier for him to manhandle you. “Fuck—“ he grins, planting his feet so his hips can fuck up into you, further jolting you along his cock. “You just sit pretty, daddy will do all the work—“

Miguel:

Oh Miguel. Mister broody, frustrated Miguel. This man is constantly under pressure, believing he’s carrying the weight of the spiderverse on his shoulders. And ofc he’s doing good (most of the time), but due to his tormented nature Miguel constantly has a weight on his already enormous shoulders. Sometimes he works it off with physical work outs, but his absolute favourite stress reliever is you and your pretty little body. He easy looms over you, has you pinned up against his monitor with both hands planted on it. He reminds Lyla that he’s about to be very busy, and the AI actually can’t help but feel a little bad for you because with all that tension and that 6’9 body…

“M-Miguel!” You squeak, the sound being easily drowned out by the sound of squelching. The wet slaps are emitting from your pussy, that Miguel still hasn’t been able to fit into. He’s worked four orgasms out of you already, two with his fingers and two with his mouth, and yet his cock still gets stuck in your tight, wet walls. He growls low in his throat, sharpened nails popping from his finger tips as he grips your hip even tighter, his other hand hoisting your pudgy thigh up even higher in an attempt at getting a better angle. “Cmon amor, lemme in, hm? Quit being so shy.” His tone is condescending and bordering stern as his hips buck again, another inch or two pushing past tight muscles and making your body jolt in the process. Tears sit fat in your lashes as you look over at him over your shoulder, lower lip wobbling and cheeks a bit bloated in a pout. “S’too big— s’not gunna fit—“ sympathy crosses his features only a moment. You were his baby after all, and despite how horribly he wanted to feel the fluttering of your walls around his whole cock, he also knew just how large he was, and how it wasn’t just a mere stretch. He was practically splitting you open. He bends, chest pressed right up against your back, and he coos against your lips, letting you peck and whimper against the soft flesh. “I know amor, I know corazoncito.. it’s so big.” He grips your jaw, pressing a kiss thats more firm against your lips as a means of grounding you. “But you’re gonna take it, hm? You’re gonna take the whole thing, because daddy’s telling you too.”

South:

MISTER SOUTH 7 FEET TALL TERANO‼️ oh this man is huge in every sense of the word. Bulging muscles, thick veins, huge calves. This man has to get his dress pants custom tailored to fit his legs I just know it! And the same can be said for his piano. We all saw that sketch of South’s room right? He has a grand piano! And baby, he had to get the piano adjusted slightly bc when he sat at it, he didn’t have enough space for his legs!! He’d want to tap down on the peddles and his knees would hit the poor piano! Once it was adjusted though, South played as much as he could. And luckily for him, his pretty little thing loved the sound of his piano just as much as he did. His favourite was when he had you laid across the piano, resting on your side, looking at him with those doe eyes and humming along to whatever tune he played. Yea, how was he supposed to resist?

The sweet melody had turned into something broken, keys slamming and screeching along with your cries of pleasure. “P-Papi!” South’s eyes were lit up with desire, thick hands holding your thighs up and leaving them trembling in the air. South wasn’t cornered with the way your ass was pressing into the keys, he was much more concerned with the way your sweet cunt looked swollen, stretched and splitting as he sheathed his cock within it for the nth time. His dick was coated in your milky white essence, a hefty ring of white frothing at his base and leaky onto the piano keys. Surely it would leave a puddle behind, one that dripped down sleek white keys and onto the black glossy piano legs. South made sure somewhere deep in his pleasure-filled mind he’d remember to take a picture of it. “Gata~” he purrs himself, easily manhandling over thighs over his shoulders. Your legs dangled there, only jolting with the force of his hips slapping up against your ass cheeks. “Taking Papi so well, Porra.. I’ll never get used to how perfect this cunt is, bela menina.” You nod and squeal in response because words can’t seem to form in your mind right now. No no, all you can think of right now is the sweet sting of his length stretching you open much past your limits. He leans down and peppers kisses along your sweet, hardened nipples, while his pace never lets up. He needs to have you squirting all over him and the piano. “Make a mess, pequeno amor, cmon, fazer uma bagunça…” His voice rumbles throughout your chest, and you don’t even realize you’ve reached the peek of euphoria until you soak his abs and the keys in your arousal <33