#i did feel disappointed when i skipped forward and realized ��oh this is the whole thing ok”

[bixels]

On one hand, really funny that they straight up lied. On the other hand, pretty mean that they straight up lied. But on the third hand, I knew they were never doing HL2AIVR.

[aihoshiino]

chapter 145 thoughts!

what even was this chapter, y'all. i'm getting a migraine.

While it certainly wasn't actively bad, it basically hits on enough of the issues I've been having with the Movie Arc that if you've been reading my chapter reviews lately, you could probably write this one yourself. Weird pacing, skipping over interesting parts of the movie, continued framing of AQRB as a shallow gag and failing to follow on any of the implied development from or literally any referenced fallout of the kiss in 143? It's all here, babes. It would ultimately just be boring and redundant for me to go over all that at length again, so I won't.

I will however say that I'm pretty disappointed we're blasting through what had the potential to be some really interesting bits of postmortem characterization for Ai, even filtered through 15YL. I don't mind the manga breezing past scenes we saw firsthand but like… how did Ai react when she realized she was pregnant? How did she feel, especially given that Spica once again emphasized her longing for a family of her own? IDK. The way the story is suddenly jolting forwards in these last few chapters and skipping such huge chunks of Ai's life ultimately feels very strange and I don't know what to make of it yet.

Everyone reacting to Crow Girl's acting was pretty funny though I'm kind of exhausted with Ruby's Gaga-For-Oniichansensei Gag Character flanderization. IDK if my tolerance for it is just decreasing or if it really is amping up, but at least in the 125-137 stretch I at least got the sense that they could be in the same room and have a normal conversation but ever since 139, it feels that bit more relentless. I imagine this would be less irritating if we knew how the aftermath of 143 had played out but it really seems like the manga is going to drag this out until we're all old and grey.

THAT SAID, this chapter does confirm that Aqua's hoshigan stayed white after that chapter and… eh. Who even knows what that means lol. It does at least imply that his talk with Ruby has brought him back to Baseline Aqua but Baseline Aqua is still a guy with every single mental illness on planet earth so I don't know if that's the world's biggest W quite yet. It certainly implies an improvement over double black hoshigan but… again, with Aqua being so totally cut off from the readers this whole arc and no idea of what happened in the aftermath of 143, it's impossible to make a meaningful guess as to wtf is going on with Aqua right now.

Oh yeah, uh. This chapter also I guess constitutes the reveal of how the AQRB reincarnation happened. I guess LMAO. Honestly, I don't have much to say about it other than it feels like a bit of an anticlimax for me? The idea works fine, the execution just left me… idk. Whelmed at best, underwhelmed at most. I feel like this backstory and the implied deep fondness for GRSR -> AQRB it implies doesn't really like up with the personality she displays in the Private arc but like, I kind of feel like she was tossed into the story without Akasaka having a clear idea as to what her role was even going to turn into so maybe that's not a surprise LOL

I will say I'm glad this seems to quash the theory that Aqua and Ruby were secretly capital-G Gods, instead framing it as a Tsuru no Ongaeshi type return of kindness to two otherwise mundane people. There was some fun fan theorizing around the idea, but for me personally, Oshi no Ko is most interesting when it focuses on that aspect of the story Akasaka highlighted in an interview recently, of human relationships being warped by the entertainment industry and I think an explosion of the emotional stakes to the cosmic scale of AQRB (or tbh any of the characters) being Secretly Gods All Along would be a bit of a shark jump for me and would really shift away from what I like about the series most.

That's kind of it for this one…! Not really a lot to say about this chapter, which is why most of this review was me explaining why I didn't have a lot to say about it.

[yumeka-sxf]

Chapter 75...

I was so looking forward to a tearful reunion between Yor and Anya (since they're my favorite relationship in the series besides Twiyor) and I was not disappointed! ❤ It actually played out exactly as I thought, with Anya finally realizing the weight of what just happened and breaking down into tears before running to Yor (this is also the first time she initiated a hug from Yor instead of the other way around). Guess I got another favorite manga panel now 😭

I had to do a double take when the chapter started with the kids receiving stellas...I was like "are we really gonna skip what happened right after the previous chapter?!" But thankfully we get a flashback that fills in the gaps. I know many of us, including myself, predicted that the kids would get stellas (I personally thought they'd get more, especially Anya, but oh well).

Probably something no one saw coming was the fact that Twilight ended up being at the incident site. I know some people were confused/upset about this, but my interpretation is that he only showed up later, after everything was resolved, and he was not there when the terrorists were actually threatening the kids (I could be proven wrong later of course, but that's what I think as of now). We're told that he "raced" over, so he must have gotten the news from a source besides WISE. It could have been the television broadcast, or an informant like Franky. Plus, knowing Twilight, he probably has means of getting around faster than someone would expect, but he still needed a reasonable amount of time, hence why I don't think he could have been there any sooner than when the incident was wrapping up.

I know people were also disappointed that he reacted as calmly as he did, considering how much danger Anya was in. But I think he's simply still not ready for that level of emotion yet, especially in front of a WISE colleague. Maybe if Yor wasn't already there to comfort Anya, or if he saw exactly what happened on the bus, he would have broken down more. I feel like Twilight having a real emotional outburst (for Anya and/or Yor) would be when the series is heading towards a conclusion, and we're just not there yet. So for now, he's still continuing to spy from the shadows, but I have a feeling we'll get more of his thoughts on the whole matter later.

Another thing I predicted was that this incident would bring Anya and Damian closer - he even gave her compliments and called her a "friend!" Of course he goes all tsundere right after, but it's definitely a big step in their relationship.

And probably the biggest shock was finding out how unhinged Melinda is. At first I was like, "oh, how nice, she's actually a caring mom," but then when she switched...😳

Maybe the trigger for whatever contradictory thoughts she has going on is linked to her husband, since she changed her demeanor as soon as Damian brought him up.

There could still be another chapter or two related to this arc since there are still things yet to be resolved. For example, did Yor realize that she was lied to by Eden about what happened, and also, how does she feel about the perpetrators being Red Circus? And there's still a chance we'll get further reactions from Twilight (again, he's slow with his emotional constipation). We could get a scene of him musing about what happened, and then the impact of how serious it was finally hits him. And then there's Yuri...will he simply recover from his wound off-panel or will he have to spend time recuperating (with the Forgers)? And now we have this whole new development with Melinda. Still so much to look forward to!

[hazbinsponsoredbyvee]

hi, i'm trying to figure out my sexuality, I feel like i'm bi but i feel that a part of me is aroace. How did y'all figure it out?

"Well, things were a little different back when I lived. Sexuality wasn't talked about much, at least not openly. I was just expected to like women and want to sleep with them, and I did, so for a while, I didn't give it much thought, even if I did notice an attractive man every now and then. It wasn't till I caught my first girlfriend cheating on me with a friend and I realized I was jealous of both of them, that I realized I actually like guys in just the same way."

"And what happened with that first girlfriend?"

"Oh, we kept dating. I just joined in whenever they hooked up. Pretended it was for her, but really, it was the best sex ever was with her. So, what about you? I know you only recently got the terms for it, but...?"

"As you said, I was only recently told that I am apparently 'aroace'. My sexuality was something that I never gave much thought to! I never understood why people got so worked up over the thought of sex, or what qualified as 'attractive'. And I was never drawn to anybody romantically, either. Though, would you mind if we got Mel to weigh in here? As she is both bi and asexual, she might be able to speak more to your particular dilemma."

So yeah, not sure I'm the best person to speak on this, considering it took me so long to figure it out myself, but I'll just share some of my story. I remember when I was really young, worrying that there was something wrong with my heart because I wasn't sure it recognized that some people were girls, and so I wasn't supposed to like them like that. But I had a hard time distinguishing if what I felt about certain female friends was different from some of my male crushes. I grew up in a very small, conservative town, so the concept of sexuality was not something that was ever explained to me, and so I just shut down that part of myself.

Skip forward to getting married at 24 and being a little disappointed I never got the chance to kiss a girl, and realizing that whenever I have a couple drinks, I can't stop staring at all the women in the bar. Eventually, I determined that I am, in fact, bi. I talked to my best friend about it (who's also bi), and she was just like 'yeah, I know'.

Now, not to get too TMI, but my sex life with my husband was never what I felt like it should be (as ridiculous of a concept it is to have a standard for how it 'should be'). A bit of context - waiting till marriage was a value for both of us, so this was a whole new world to explore. I questioned if it was due to past trauma I experienced, or if I just had low sex drive. I liked the idea of sex, but it didn't feel like this amazing thing that was integral to a relationship. I also really didn't understand the way my husband naturally reacts when he sees me naked, and I wondered if there was something wrong with me, or if I was a bad wife, for not responding the same to him. Like, I can appreciate the naked body (especially boobs, cause they're great), but I'm more enjoying the aesthetics and not necessarily having a reaction to it.

First I started to think I might be demi, since I do like the idea of sex, I have some kinks, and I genuinely want to have sex with my husband, it's just not nearly as important to me as it is to him. But then I started writing radiostatic fanfic and exploring that dynamic, and I write Alastor as being willing to have sex, despite being ace because it fills a different need for him (i.e. kinky torture time), and I realized that that was actually much closer to my own experience. And if you're curious, learning this about myself and being able to communicate the way I feel with my husband has done wonders for our sex life, and marriage in general.

I don't know if any of that was helpful at all. I can't as well weigh in on the aro side of things, except to say, what has always attracted me to a person the most, male or female, is the vibes they put off. I think romantic attraction is something that's difficult to define, but the fact that I'm able to be attracted to someone in that sense is how I land on biromantic for myself instead of aromantic.

I know this was a long post, but as someone who has only fully discovered my sexuality at 30, it's something that I'm kind of passionate about. I hope it helps!

[childeaether]

venus.

cw: 18+ only, xiao/f!reader, law school au, enemies to lovers, rough sex, dumbification, degradation

wc: 2.5k

it was getting late. well, it got late about two hours ago. now midnight was approaching at an annoyingly fast rate. you were exhausted, xiao was irritable, and the report was nowhere near done. it was a miracle that no one had come by to lock up the study room for the night.

“this case doesn’t make any sense,” you griped, typing aggressively on your laptop. xiao sighed.

“you’ve said that three times in the last thirty minutes. i get it,” he said flatly. you shot him a look. your professor had to be some kind of sadist. you and xiao had hated each other since the first day of class. rarely did a lecture go by without the two of you arguing- whether it was about law or the color of the sky.

“read this,” you said, turning your laptop towards him. his eyes narrowed as he read over the report, which you’d rewritten twice now. he shook his head as he approached the end.

“your reasoning doesn’t make any sense. you’re just mentioning another case to make the holes in your argument look smaller,” he said. “and the fuck does the implied powers have to do with anything?”

you snatched your laptop back. “at least i’m putting ideas out there. you’ve been rereading it for, like, forty five minutes.”

he rolled his eyes. “right. why analyze the case to further understand it when you could just spew bullshit and pray something is right?”

you groaned in frustration. “this case is at least a century old. you’re not supposed to ‘further understand it.’ the whole point of the assignment is torture us mentally.”

“the whole point of the assignment is to challenge us,” he shot back, “something you will have to get used to if you want a fucking law career.”

you slammed your laptop shut. “i get it, you think i’m stupid-”

“i don’t think you’re stupid, i think you’re fucking lazy.”

you snorted, but there was no humor in it. “i’m lazy, but you haven’t written shit. got it.”

he stood. “listen, i’m sorry that you weren’t paired with your little boyfriend, but-”

“my little boyfriend?” you said, incredulous. “what are you even talking about?” you got to your feet, too. the two of you were ticking time bombs, trapped in each other’s space. as always.

“that ginger you sit next to. don’t act like i’m wrong,” he snapped, “you two are so fucking obvious.”

you laughed in disbelief. “jesus christ, you are such an asshole. his name is childe. you’ve known him an entire semester-”

xiao cut you off, “you’re unbearable around him. that stupid high pitched giggle you do? it gives me a fucking headache-”

“laughing at his jokes means i’m fucking him?” you didn’t even realize that you’d raised your voice.

“you dumb yourself down for him,” xiao said. “it’s infuriating. you can have anyone you want, why do you settle for that moron?”

“i’m not settling for him,” you hissed, “i don’t even talk to him outside of class! and so what if i fucking was? god forbid someone likes me, right? just because you hate me doesn’t mean the rest of the world does.”

something in his eyes changed. you suddenly realized how close your faces were. you must’ve gotten closer as your tempers escalated.

“you are stupid,” he said, softly. before your rage took hold, he continued, “i.. don’t hate you.”

you scoffed. “yeah, right,” you said, starting to back away. his hand caught your shoulder, gentle but firm. the earth stopped turning. he’d never looked at you like this before. like you were more than a nuisance. much more.

it clicked. oh.

“what did you mean by.. what you said a second ago?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “that i.. can ‘have anyone i want?’” your heart was beating fast, and it wasn’t caused by rage, this time.

for a moment, xiao looked vulnerable. “we don’t have to talk about this,” he whispered. “i know that we argue a lot, and i know that i can be a dick, but- i don’t hate you. i don’t.”

your heart was caught in your throat. “how do you feel about me?” you breathed.

his cheeks reddened. he clearly wasn’t used to being emotionally vulnerable, especially in front of you. “it’s complicated,” he said. “it’s not necessarily how i feel about you, but how you make me feel.”

a small smile creeped onto your lips. “well.. what are you involuntarily feeling?”

your smile seemed to relax him, if only slightly. he sighed. “i’ve been asking myself the same question for months. i mean, you always annoyed me- especially in the beginning. but, as time went on, i don’t know.. i started noticing little things.

“like the look in your eye when you’re winning an argument. or the one when you’re losing. how you bite your lip when you’re focused on something..” he trailed off. he looked up, finally meeting your eyes.

“like i said, it’s complicated,” he murmured. “but whatever i was feeling was.. warm. pleasant, even if i didn’t want it to be. then, you started hanging out with that childe guy, and these feelings went from warm to… hot. like a, a burning sensation, in my chest.”

just thinking about it seemed to frustrate him. “he made you laugh. you didn’t look at him like you wanted to kill him. i mean, you liked him. and i couldn’t stand it, because-”

he cut himself off, trying to muster up the courage to say whatever was about to come next. “i couldn’t stand that you would never see me the way you saw him.” his breathing was shaky. it made your heart ache.

your faces were so close.

“it drives me insane,” he continued. “you drive me insane. and i just want to-”

you cut him off, capturing his lips in a desperate, long-awaited kiss. he jumped at first, shocked, but melted into it before too long. his hands found themselves on your hips, gripping them firmly. pulling you closer to him. you tangled your fingers in his hair, relishing in the deep groan that escapes him when you tug on the strands.

he bit your lip as he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. you whined and gasped for breath. you brought a hand to his cheek, brushing a piece of hair behind his ear. “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do that,” you whispered. his fingers dug into your waist.

“you’re not fucking childe?” he said. god, his eyes.

you shook your head.

“good.”

just like that, he was on you again. the kiss was rougher this time, hotter. teeth nipped at lips, tongues prodded at one another, hands made their way up your shirt. xiao pulled away briefly to remove it. he pushed you up against the desk as his lips chased yours once again. you had no objections, dizzy with lust.

he shoved a thigh between your legs and you moaned as he pressed it against you.

“god, look at you,” he whispered, his teeth against your neck. he moved his thigh, and you couldn’t stop your hips from grinding against it. there was an almost sinister look in his eye. it was sadistic, but adoring. your heart was fluttering in your chest.

“aw, baby,” he cooed, “i’ve hardly touched you. do you really need it that bad?” that condescending tone did something to you. a familiar fog was starting to form in your head. “i guess i should’ve seen this coming. smart girls like you love to be turned into dumb sluts in bed, right?”

a shiver ran down your spine. before you could respond, he moved his ground his thigh against you. an embarrassingly high pitched noise escaped your throat. “yeah, that’s what i thought,” xiao teased, sinking his teeth into your collarbone. your nails dug into his shoulder.

suddenly, he pulled away. you whined pitifully at the loss of contact, but the disappointment didn’t last long. your heart skipped a beat as you realized xiao had pulled away to take off his belt. that fog was getting hard to ignore.

he noticed you staring. “bend over the desk,” he commanded, “and hike up your skirt for me.”

as if your panties weren’t soaked enough before.

nervously, you bent yourself over the desk and pulled your skirt up, exposing the silk panties you had on underneath. they were genuinely comfortable. xiao picked a good day to confess.

you heard him inhale sharply behind you, taking you in. “fuck,” he whispered, running a hand up your thigh. you couldn’t help but squirm. “you’re already so wet i can see it through your panties. does it turn you on when i tell you what to do?”

two fingers traced the outline of your pussy over your panties. “or maybe it was the ‘dumb slut’ part, hmm?”

you moaned helplessly, wriggling your hips. “xiao, please,” you begged, “hurry up, i- i want it.”

“be patient,” he replied. you felt lips press against your inner thigh. your skin felt like it was on fire, his lips burning a trail everywhere they touched. you whimpered and squirmed, desperate.

“please, just- fucking get on with it,” you cried. your cunt was aching. you’d imagined xiao fucking you on shameful, lonely nights. especially on days like this, when the two of you had been at each other’s throats. and now it was here. real.

“god, please-”

“shut the fuck up, slut, or i’ll rip these panties off and gag you with them,” he growled. the fog won. you felt yourself melt into the desk, into submission. your hips stilled, and you bit your lip to keep from whining. every second that passed felt like a lifetime.

finally, he pulled your panties down, exposing your dripping sex. you gasped at the sensation of cold air against you. it only made you feel hotter.

he ran his middle and index finger up and down your folds, maddeningly slow. god, it was hard to keep quiet. you could hardly think about anything but xiao, xiao’s fingers, xiao’s dick.

you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning out loud when his fingers began to circle your clit. they were slow and gentle; you needed them to be more.

“you’re so beautiful,” xiao whispered. you hung on to his every word. “i want to take my time with you, and i promise i will, later.. but right now, i can’t help myself.” he took your wrists into one hand, holding them behind your back. he leaned forward, his lips brushing against your ear as he continued, “i’m going to fuck you senseless.”

you cried out as he plunged two fingers inside you, thrusting in and out roughly. it was a relief, but it wasn’t enough. you tried to grind your hips onto his fingers to no avail. “and you’re going to take what i give you, aren’t you, baby?” he said, kissing a particularly sensitive spot behind your ear.

“because you’re my good, stupid slut.” he added a third finger and curled them inside you, finally hitting the sweet spot he’d been searching for. you let out a low moan at the sensation. “you think you’re so smart, but look at you. trying to fuck yourself on my fingers. if i’d known this is all it takes to shut you up, i would’ve done this a long time ago.”

you mumbled out a pathetic, incoherent moan. you couldn’t even argue with him, you were so desperate.

“it’s okay, pretty girl,” he whispered. “i’ve got you. i’ll give you what you want. you just have to ask.”

you knew what that meant. “please,” you begged, “please- fuck me, xiao! i want it so bad, i’m so..” you trailed off, trying to hang on to your train of thought as he twisted his fingers inside you. your sentence became a string of incoherent please’s.

luckily for you, xiao was nearing the limit of his control. “good girl,” he said. you heard shuffling behind you as he positioned himself, the tip of his cock pressing against the entrance to your cunt. his grip on your wrists tightened. “take a deep breath, baby.”

he thrust his hips forward and finally, he was inside you. it stung at first, but you adjusted quickly. when he felt you relax, he pulled your wrists toward him, using them as leverage to better fuck into you.

“oh, thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyou,” you moaned, relishing in the feeling of him brushing against your g-spot. every thrust had you seeing stars.

“fuck, you feel so good,” xiao hissed, picking up the pace. he pressed kisses down your spine. “so pretty, such a good girl. you like being fucked rough like this, baby? is this what you needed?”

you let out another string of whimpers, nodding desperately. “it’s so good,” you slurred, “i’m close.”

he released your wrists to grab your forearm, pulling you up, against his chest. this angle was somehow better than the last, directly targeting that sweet spot he’d only been brushing before. “oh, yes! right there!” you cried.

xiao let out a growl, fucking you harder than before. “that’s right, you stupid slut. fucking take it,” he snarled, biting into your neck. “you wanna cum?”

you nodded feverishly, no longer bothering to quiet the little noises he forced out of you with each thrust. “yes, god, please,” you begged, tears beginning to form in your eyes.

he suddenly pulled out and flipped you onto your back, thrusting inside you again without missing a beat. you grabbed onto his shoulders, trying to stay grounded. “tell me what you are,” he said, hardly louder than a whisper.

your cheeks were burning. you knew what he meant. in any other circumstance, you would’ve fought him on it, or at least tried to. but you’d never had dick this good in your life. you weren’t about to disobey him.

a thumb hovered above your clit. “tell me what you are,” he repeated, his gaze unwavering. you couldn’t resist him if you tried.

“i’m a dumb slut!” you cried, tears running freely now. he brought his thumb down, rubbing in time with his quick, rough thrusts. your eyes rolled back as you came, cunt clenching down desperately, legs shaking around his waist.

xiao was quick to follow, cumming inside you with a low, gravelly groan as he pulled your hips against him. you whined at the feeling.

as he came down, he pressed his lips to yours again, much gentler than he had earlier. you kissed him back, slowly gathering your bearings.

when you pull away, he peppers your cheeks with light kisses. “you were so good,” he whispered, “so good for me.” you hummed happily, capturing his lips once more.

he pulled out of you, much to your dismay. before you could demand another round, you were hit with a sudden realization. “oh, fuck,” you said, frantically pulling your shirt over your head.

his eyes widened and he put a hand on your arm. “what is it? what’s wrong?” he asked, sounding genuinely concerned. it was a cute look on him.

“the fucking case report,” you grumbled.

he grinned and gently tugged you back to his chest. “don’t worry. i can fix your half in, like, thirty minutes.”

you shot him an annoyed but amused look. “you’re an asshole,” you said. he pressed a kiss to your nose.

“you love it,” he replied.

and you did.

[latent-thoughts]

loki surprising reader from an early dismissal of their mission and reader gets kind of panic-y bc she hasnt shaved/plucked/waxed/etc some hair on her body and other preparations she puts her body through whenever she's abt to have sex so she tries to avoid loki the whole night bc of this.. eventually, loki finds out the reason why she's been avoiding him. fluffy (reassuring) smut? 👉👈 srry btw if this is too specific, thank u in advance <33

Writing about this topic was a first for me. Hope you like it, nonny.

“Surprise!”

Your eyes widened upon opening the door. And you almost closed it back in a sudden bout of panic.

Because freaking Loki was standing there, with flowers in his hands, no less, smiling at you mischievously.

"Wha…? How?"

He was supposed to be on a mission, on the other side of the world! He wasn’t supposed to return for at least a few days.

Reading your expression, he went ahead and answered your questions. "I finished early and thought to surprise you."

Then he stepped in and swept you off your feet.

You simply froze in his arms. Because the realization that you hadn't groomed yourself at all and that he was about to see what a gremlin you really were was enough to stun you.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” he asked when he finally let you down from that bear-hug to put the flowers in a vase. “Or are you too shocked to respond yet?”

“The latter? Maybe?” you replied, feeling out of breath and out of depth, both.

He grinned, skipping back to you eagerly. "I missed you, so I teleported here as soon as I finished."

Then he pressed his palms to your cheeks, rubbing in the residual static of his magic.

“Hey!” you cried out, just as he pulled you in for a kiss.

Oh, his kisses were always heavenly and disarming, and you couldn't help but be lost in it for a while, the panic momentarily forgotten.

But it returned full force when he began to grope you with the urgency of someone who was looking forward to some serious action in bed.

Oh fuck…

You pulled away quickly, because you simply weren’t prepared for a nookie today. And now that Loki was already here, there was no time to prep for it.

Hence, the panic…

He looked disappointed when you broke away from him, but you pretended to be oblivious.

“Did you eat?” you asked, changing the topic quickly before he could say something. “I should make something for you.”

“We should order,” he suggested, moving closer to you again. “I didn’t come back early to make you slave off in the kitchen.”

“Alright! Lemme get my phone,” you replied with false cheer as you hopped away, not letting him grab you this time.

But he was upon you again while you tried to pick a cuisine on your phone.

“What do you wanna have?” you asked, trying not to sound alarmed when he started kissing your neck. “Loki, pay attention to the menu.”

"Order whatever you want," came his very impatient reply.

You began to squirm then, because his hands slipped under your sweatshirt, discovering that you weren't wearing a bra.

"Dumpings?" you squeaked, arching against him as he stroked your nipples.

"Oh yes… I love dumplings."

"Choose!"

He sighed and finally relented, focussing on ordering food. But once the order was placed, Loki returned to his attempts at seduction.

You tried to distract him with TV, you tried to clean an already clean kitchen, you even tried to hide in the bathroom for a bit. But Loki simply didn’t relent. He was kissy, touchy, feely, gropey… basically just a one-track mind. And he was very eager, as was evident from the bulge in his pants.

It only made you feel terrible about the whole situation. He had rushed back to you after finishing his mission early, only to be rejected…

But how could you explain to him that you couldn’t be intimate with him tonight? That you hadn’t taken care of yourself like you always did whenever he was coming over. That your downstairs area was a prickly, overgrown lawn and your arms and legs were like a tarantula’s?

“Why didn’t you tell me that you were coming? I could’ve prepared…” I could’ve shaved and plucked and made myself more presentable too.

“Would’ve ruined the surprise.” He was trying to pull your sweatshirt off, but you were resisting. “And I don’t want you to make special preparations for me. Just being in your company is a delight for me, love.”

Damn, the guilt was gnawing at you…

“Loki stop!” you cried out suddenly, just as his hands slipped into your sweatpants. “We can’t have sex tonight.”

It was brutal, but at least you were being honest…

He pulled away from you immediately, looking baffled and… hurt. “You don’t desire me? Is this why you’ve been avoiding my advances?”

Oh… he had noticed. Of course, he had. He was extremely perceptive.

“No, I mean yes! I mean, no, that is not the reason,” you fumbled. “I’m not… groomed enough for it.”

He frowned, visibly confused. “What does that mean?”

You closed your eyes in shame, hugging yourself as you tried to explain. “I prepare myself for you every time you come over. I shave… everywhere. Then I apply lotion all over my body. I pull on some nice lingerie and all. Basically, I doll-up before you get to see me naked. Your surprise visit didn’t give me the time to do all that.”

Your confession was met with silence, which prompted you to open your eyes and peer at him.

He still looked baffled.

“I’m sorry, Loki.” Your eyes welled up as the guilt overflowed. “I want you, I love you. But I just feel… inadequate and ugly without all that prep. I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“That… has never mattered to me,” he stated finally, moving closer to you again, wrapping his arms around you. “I have body hair too. Does that put you off?”

You snorted into his chest despite being upset. “No, fuck no.”

“Then why should I mind yours? I actually thought that was some kind of cultural norm here on Midgard. So I just didn’t question it out of politeness.”

“It made me look soft and pretty and more fuckable, at least in my mind.”

Now it was his turn to snort.

“Really? Because you’re all that and much more to me all the time, not just when you doll-up. I didn’t fall for you when you presented yourself to me after all those preparations.”

He tipped your chin up to make you look directly into his eyes as he continued.

“I did so in increments… whenever you gazed at me from across the Avengers’ conference room with soft eyes, when you snapped at Thor for unnecessarily hassling me, when you played tricks on me in turn and bested me at my own game, when you started wearing shades of green more often, when you matched my wit and didn’t back down from the challenge… and so on.”

Your eyes widened upon hearing his confession; you weren’t prepared for that, and it completely blew you away. Enough to render you mute for a bit.

“Now, I won’t tell you to stop, because your body is yours, and I don’t control you. All I’m saying is… I want you all the same, dolled-up or not.”

He was poised to say more, but you stopped him with a kiss, pouring your gratitude and love into it. Because hell, he was a gem. Understanding and gentle and kind…

“I’m sorry,” you sighed against his lips. “I got caught up in my own insecurities.”

“Will you let me show you how much I desire you?” he asked, brushing his nose against yours, sounding so earnest that you simply couldn’t say no to him.

In no time at all, he had you on your back, naked and completely spread out on the bed for him. When you squirmed self-consciously, he steadied you with a hand over your abdomen.

“There you are, all natural and beautiful,” he remarked, touching you intimately, playing with your clit, making you whimper. “This was all I thought about when I was finishing my mission. I simply wanted to surprise you, spontaneous and eager. To bury myself in your warmth and be lost to the world for at least a few hours.”

Your mouth opened, but you couldn’t speak. Because he slipped two fingers inside you then, and began to pleasure you, working them just the way you liked it. It drove you wild, enough to make you forget about your lack of grooming.

He turned up the heat even further when he leaned over and pulled your nipple into his mouth, sucking and biting it just enough to give you the edge of pain laced with pleasure.

“Fuck, Loki!” was all you could manage to say.

“Yes, give yourself to me, just like that,” he encouraged, letting go of your nipple temporarily. “Do you still think yourself undesirable?”

His thumb pressed on your clit right then, making you incoherent, because it was buzzing with his magic.

“I can’t think!”

“Perfect. Now come for me.”

You did. By everything good and holy, you did…

As you cried out in intense pleasure, Loki shifted over you, his clothes melting away in a telltale green glow.

“How about now?” he asked, pushing inside you, making you tremble as he nudged the last vestiges of your orgasm into the beginnings of another. “Does my desire for you feel any different?”

You shook your head and wrapped your legs around him.

“There you go, my doll, all natural and beautiful. I like the sound of that. Do you?”

He began to fuck you hard then, using those long, deep strokes that made you moan the loudest.

“Answer me.”

“You know I can’t!”

He chuckled and kissed you then, pinning you beneath him, keeping his pace. He didn’t relent even as you climaxed again.

“Do you think you’re not attractive to me right now, like this, replete with pleasure, clenching around me so sweetly, moaning my name like an invocation?” he rasped against your lips, sounding burdened by an oncoming orgasm himself.

His words only made you clench around him harder.

“I was wrong! I’m sorry!”

“Good girl…” He groaned, throbbing and coming deep inside you, staying there till both of you stopped panting.

The afterglow hit you hard afterwards, and you grew quite snoozy in his arms as a result.

Of course, the food delivery guy chose to arrive exactly at that time, much to your annoyance. But Loki had a trick up his sleeve to take care of that.

He sent a double to receive it.

-----

(Also posted on AO3. Please share and leave comments if you liked it.)

[ladyhawk7619]

The Targeryan Prince

Part Two

The Game

Daemon Targaryen X Reader (Y/N)

Warning: nsfw, smut, non-consensual (sort of)It has been two months since you were abandoned at Kings Landing. Daemon was called away on some assignment given to him by the King and has not come home. You are visiting your sister who is a few weeks away from delivering her baby, and given your present situation, decided you would stay until she gave birth.

Two weeks after your arrival, your sister gives birth to a beautiful baby boy. Both your sister and her husband are excited, and you decide to step aside and let the midwife look after mom and babe. As you step outside of the room, you take yourself to the courtyard outside. It is a warm day despite the snow on the ground.

While you were admiring the way the snow shone under the sun, your thoughts wander to the night Daemon summoned you to his bed chambers. You remember the way his eyes looked at you, the way he smelled, the gentleness with which he kissed you. You think back with shame on the fact you had enjoyed it.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a page boy. “Ma’am,” he says hesitantly. You feel a little confused by the way he is looking at you, but you realize that he must have tried for your attention a couple of times. You snap your attention onto the young boy in front of you and nod courteously. He proceeds to hand you a message.

Taking the paper into your hand, you unfold it and read what is written. It is the Targaryen. He is home and wants you there by the following sunset. He wishes to consummate the marriage quickly, and without further delay. “It is a duty that must be fulfilled, and regrettably, should not have taken us this long,” he had written.

Well, I’ll be damned, you think angrily. He leaves for two months and now it’s on me to return when he desires me. Like a little page boy, I’m summoned up on a whim as I’m needed to serve on the basis of duty. This is bullshit!

You say nothing out loud, and do your best to maintain a neutral expression on your face. You did not want the page boy to see the disgust you felt, so fought the disdain from creeping into your expression. You thank the messenger for his delivery and make your way back to your sister to tell her that you need to leave right away.

“Oh, that’s disappointing!” She exclaims. “I was looking forward to you staying a little longer. But I suppose a husband comes before a sister. I do hope you find happiness sister.”

You suppress a scoff at that. You mean I hope I enjoy sex so that I’ll be more willing to have my own 30-hour labour. Instead, you kiss your sister’s forehead and give your brother-in-law a warm nod before quietly packing your things and mounting your horse.

The journey back to Kings Landing was shorter than you would have liked. Your horse was bred for his durability and speed, his temperament that of a loyal dog. You begged your Father to leave him uncut since he might then maintain his spirit for galloping, rather than growing lazy like all other gelded horses.

Once your horse is unsaddled and fed, you make your way toward the castle. You decide to seek the comfort of your chambers, as it is early morning and the Targaryen had only requested your presence by the evening of this day. To your surprise, when you enter your chambers, you find Daemon asleep in your bed. Your heart skips a beat when you see him stirring, as you did not expect him to be there and had closed the door rather loudly.

“You’re loud enough to wake the whole castle. If you hoped me to remain asleep, you failed in that,” the Prince taunted. You said nothing but proceeded to remove your cloak and make a fire as it was cold in the room.

“You might as well perform your duties now, y/n.” Daemon says.

“I’ve got this,” your handmaiden says, stepping forward to take over the making of the fire. You straighten, taking care to keep your back to the Targaryen.

“I’d rather you left us,” Daemon commands.

“As you wish,” the handmaiden says, turning and leaving as quickly as she could.

Once the door had closed behind the maiden, the room remains silent for a few moments. You can feel the Targaryen watching you, but you keep your back to him.

“Would you like a glass of wine?” the Prince asks, finally breaking the silence. He moves towards bottles in the corner of the room. You decline, although you do wonder if that would make what needs to be done a little easier.

“I should warn you, I’m at that time of the month,” you say, much to your chagrin it comes out feebly and wobbly. Well done, you chastise yourself. He’s not stupid. It’s the oldest trick in the book!

“Hm, yes, I’m sure you are,” the Prince responds. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like anything to drink?”

This time you accept, grateful for anything that might steady your nerves. Or at least replace nerves with confidence.

The Targaryen extends the glass to you, and you regret your acceptance of a drink, as you now must cross the room and get closer to him. Daemon observes your reluctance but says nothing as you approach slowly, your gaze averted.

Why does this Targaryen unnerve me so? I put distance between us, and he contrived a way to make me approach him.

When you reach forward to take the cup, you look up and meet the Prince’s gaze. His eyes are neither warm nor are they cold. He seems to be neutral. Patient. Waiting to see how welcoming you are going to be.

As you take the glass to your lips, you continue to maintain eye contact with the Prince. The wine warms you as you swallow, and although that was your first sip you feel a little more relaxed and self-assured. That said, you decide to let Daemon break the silence. You were not about to work hard at moving things along. He ambushed you in your quarters after all.

Daemon lets you finish your glass before he breaks the silence. “Would you like some more?” He offers. You hesitate, so he takes your glass, fills it, and hands it back. “In case the answer is yes.”

Daemon turns and fills his glass up, then walks over to the couch and sits down. He pats the spot beside him, indicating to you that he wanted you to sit beside him. You opt to sit on the stool across from him. The Prince does not appear angry by this, instead, he smiles slightly, and takes a drink of his wine.

A few minutes pass in silence. It was quiet enough that you hear the birds beginning to wake from their sleep, as the sun would soon be rising. Once the Targaryen had finished his drink, he stands. At first, you think he wants to go get more wine, but instead, he puts the glass down and approaches you.

Before he reaches you, you set your glass down, get up, and move across the room to replace the distance between you and the Targaryen. He stops in his tracks, and you stare him down, defiantly. “You abandoned me here for two months,” you spat at him angrily. The Targaryen says nothing but continues to look at you with the same neutral expression from before.

“The King needed my help,” he responds quietly. As he spoke, you angle your body subtly, waiting for an opportunity to race out the door. You have no intention of bedding with this man.

Daemon remains where he is. If he has noticed your move or even guessed what is in your head, he doesn’t let on. “Well, it’s been two months with no consummation, it can wait until this evening,” you reply firmly. “I am tired from my long ride.”

“It does not require that much energy, and even encourages sleep to follow. Don’t fight this.”

“I am tired from my ride. It can wait until tomorrow,” you repeat.

The Prince regards you pensively. Then, looks to the door, smiles and moves to place himself between you and the exit. He figured out your next move and blocked you. He looks back at you, a smile on his lips.

“What next y/n?” He holds your gaze in his as he begins to walk towards you calmly. You take that moment to try for the door, all you need to do is go around the Targaryen. With your eyes fixed on the exit, you move quickly to dodge the Prince who jumps out at you. Unfortunately, he catches your elbow, hard enough to elicit a verbal expression of pain, and he pulls you around, putting himself between you and the door again.

Without releasing your arm, the Prince drags you farther away from the door, in the direction of the bed. Once you reach the bed, the Targaryen roughly shoves you farther toward it and proceeds to back off a little, making sure to stand between you and the exit. You are breathing heavily, and rub your elbow where his fingers had just been.

The Targaryen stays quiet while you glare angrily at him. After a few minutes, he breaks the silence; “Well, I’m glad we got the bolt out of the way.” He begins to walk towards you, cautiously in case you plan to run again. You back up in order to keep him at a distance, but become unable to go any farther when your legs are barred by the physical appearance of the bed.

It does not take Daemon long to reach you after that. Suddenly he has his hands on your waist, pulling you to him. He’s so close you can hear his breathing and smell the wine on his breath. Then, he kisses you. Just like before, he is gentle, trying to gauge your level of resistance. You push him away from you with all your strength, but he remains steadfast, unmovable.

The Prince kisses your neck as he takes off your tunic. You struggle, remaining stubborn with anger. He abandoned you, made you return to Kings Landing when you were with your sister, and now he’s taking what he wants. His being a man made it so that you had no choice, but that did not mean you had to make it easy for him.

What you did not expect was the Targaryen to turn you around, bend you over, and enter you from behind. Your anger burned deeper as he did this. I am not a common whore, you thought. However, rather than fight, you gave in.

Although your sister had told you that she never minded when her husband entered her from behind, you found yourself loathing it. It was not comfortable as you used your hands to keep yourself from falling over, all the while the Targaryen remained with his feet planted on the ground, steadying himself so that his momentum was firm and strong. You were thrust forward with each stroke, your balance in jeopardy and you widened your stance to keep yourself from lurching too far forward. That proved to be a mistake as it gave Daemon deeper access, which left you a little breathless.

When the Targaryen climaxes, he grunts a couple of times, releases you, then sinks into your bed, leaving you to clean yourself up. Once you were dressed, you left your chambers, as it is morning

——————

For the next couple of weeks, the Targaryen summons you to his chambers to fuck. You give little resistance, so he continues to take you from behind. This evening, you thought you were going to be left in peace, but when you hear a knock on your door your heart sinks.

“Come in,” you call back, expecting a chambermaid to enter to tell you that Daemon wants to see you in his chamber. To your dismay, it is the Prince himself who strides into the room. There is no stalling now.

You were comfortably reading on the couch and in no mood to entertain the Targaryen. You were raw and uncomfortable from being fucked, and were worried that your little resistance was the reason for his seeking you almost every night. Maybe if I made it more difficult, he would have sought a whore already, you thought bitterly.

The Prince sits across from you and pours a glass of wine. He silently offers to pour you one, holding an empty cup up in indication. You silently shake your head. Deciding to ignore him, you put your head down and continue to read your book.

“Are you sure? This pitcher of wine happens to be one of the tastier drums from the kitchen,” Daemon says, breaking your concentration after a few minutes of ignoring him.

“Yes, I am,” you reply. If was the same pitcher you had last week. You return to your reading.

After a couple more minutes go by, Daemon crosses the room, takes the book from your hands, and tosses it to the side. “Now would you like some wine?” He asks, a calm look on his face.

You growl with frustration, and standing up you go to walk away. I am not interested in entertaining the Targaryen tonight, you think furiously. In response to this, a hand grabs you firmly by the waist and Daemon begins to turn you to face the other direction, but you struggle, spinning around, your hand makes contact with Daemon’s face in a slap.

The Targaryen takes a step back to look at you, astonished. “I do not want you to bend me over and fuck me from behind tonight like I have no say in the matter. I am not an animal to be bred by you, Targaryen,” you spat at him.

Daemon regards you evenly. Removing his hand from his face, he calmly replies: “then engage with me like a woman.”

This response takes you by surprise and makes your heart skip a beat. You regard the Prince with a confused look. Finally, he breaks the silence: “you were not nearly this hostile when I took your virginity with my fingers.” A slight smile on his lips. His words dripping with arrogance.

You think back to that evening, how it felt - good? - when the Targaryen had touched you. It certainly felt different from the last few weeks, where you felt used for his pleasure. Raw from his touch. Numb to his mouth. You look up at Daemon and realized that he was giving you a chance to lead. You had always viewed the bedroom like a man views a battlefield, as an opportunity to conquer and obliterate. Both the household and war are at the palm of a man’s hand.

However, at that very moment, The Rogue Prince was yielding to you. He was waiting for you to make a decision. 

“And those are my two options?” you ask. “To engage with you on my own, or bend over and be taken?

“I am your husband,” he responds simply.

“You are my conqueror,” you shot back.

Daemon slowly takes a step forward. “Is that what I am?” he asks. 

Something stirs inside you, and you find yourself remaining still, not wishing to turn away and run for the first time since you met this Targaryen. He stops inches from you, looking down, eyes locked with yours, he says “It doesn’t have to be that way.”

You avert your eyes from him, unable to handle their intensity. “I would appreciate that glass of wine now,” you state.

Instead, the Targaryen takes your cheek in his right hand, tilts your chin back and engages your lips in his. He kisses you deeply, stirring the passion in both of you. You find yourself responding, kissing him back, tugging at his chest gently with your hands. Daemon proceeds to kiss your ears, then your neck, while a couple of chills run down your spine in quick succession. You continue to grasp at the shirt on his chest while his hands calmly begin to strip away at the bodice of your dress. 

Losing track of time, you suddenly find yourself taking your dress off, as the Targaryen rids himself of his clothing. Coming back to kiss him, you find his body warm against yours, it was more intoxicating than the wine you did not drink. Before you knew what was happening, Daemon suddenly pushes you, pinning you down on the bed. A little bit of panic rises in your chest, a claustrophobic feeling overwhelming you. The Prince must see this in your face, as he eases the pressure of his body a little, and begins to kiss your neck. These kisses trail down your chest, to your breast, down your stomach. He leaves little nibbles between your thighs, causing you to start and pull away, but catches your hips and steadies you. 

“Not ready for that?” he teases. You glare at him in response.

Instead, Daemon comes back to lie on top of you, entering you but making sure to stay on his elbows. The skin of his pelvis touches your skin and it is warm. This intensifies the pressure building in your stomach. He uses his left hand to wrap your left leg around him, then begins to grind against you, causing your breath to tighten in your chest, and your area to feel amazing. You groan softly in his ear.

Daemon builds this, in and out, up and down. Slowly he lowers himself on top of you, but this time it doesn’t bother you. Instead, you close your legs tightly around him as he breathes heavily into your neck. You are thrown into ecstasy as you climax. A few seconds later the Targaryen follows. 

The prince lies down beside you, and says, “now that is how a husband and wife enjoy one another. Marriages are built on that, not conquer and domination.”  

[dienamights]

Not Your Best Man | D.Kaminari

✎ Denki Kaminari was resentful of all the things Katsuki Bakugou has, the high hero ranks, the fame despite his demeaning behavior, his intelligence, and most importantly, you.

✎ Protagonists: Denki Kaminari x Fem!Reader

✎ Word count: 5.2K

✎ Category: Smut MDNI, angst

✎ Caution(!): Smut MDNI, swearing, denki is jealous, bakuhoe is an asshole, mommy kink, loss of control of quirk during sex, degradation, praise, oral (male!receiving), unprotected sex, orgasm denial to a certain point, mention of puking, doing denki dirty in so many ways and I’m sorry but I’m also… not sorry.

✎ Author’s notes: Hello! Hope everyone’s well! I’m here with @forrest-fern’s Seven Deadly Sins server Collab! I snatched Denki and chose Envy! I wasn’t able to get bakugou but you know damn well I’m squeezing his ass in there lmao (peep the banner you can see the boom boom boy) (shut up im not late shush)

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Her hair is piled up and back, showing more of her delicate yet strong features. Skin so flawless his hands feel bound when he wants to touch it, afraid of staining it with his fingertips, not deeming himself worthy to taint it. Eyes brought out beautifully with makeup products she knew how to work to make her look even more gorgeous than she already is. Lips perfectly coated in lipstick, always formed in the littlest smile, and he feels compelled to kiss the product off of them.

The dress is perfect, it sits on her body as if it has been made just for her. Its fabric folds hugging her figure, following her curves. It’s color is gorgeous against her skin with long sleeves that cover her arms, the backless dress shows skin that begs him, taunts him to touch it and to guide her along with him. The collar exposes enough shoulders that teases him to bite and mark up. It's tight skirt pooled till the floor with a slit up to her left thigh. She looks stunning and he couldn't stop but linger his eyes on her.

She looks as though she is an angel, in the form of the most beautiful girl on earth. Mesmerising eyes, so crystal clear that he could see rivers, oceans, the whole world through them. No flower, no goddess, not even Aphrodite could ever compare to her beauty. She has the body of a dancer, lithe, supple and oh so beautiful. With every step she takes, it looks as though she’s floating, and Denki only became more convinced that he had been around an angel for the majority of his life and he -regretfully- only was able to realize it a bit too late.

Regretfully, because she wasn’t his, isn’t his, will never be his. Not the measly unimportant groomsman. No, she is the best man’s, Katsuki Bakugou’s, meant to be his forever. 

Bakugou’s BakugousBakugousBakugous… Dammit

“I do.” 

An adorable little boy dressed in a black tuxedo walks up and hands Kirishima a ring. He slips it on Mina's finger. The pastor smiles and turns to Mina. She wears a strapless wedding gown with embroidery on her bodice. Rhinestones and pearl beads sewn on her gown. She wears a two-tier veil, with a matching crystal head-piece. She holds a French rose silk bouquet. Kirishima is stunning. He wears a black, single-breasted, satin tuxedo with a white-wing collar shirt.

The pastor repeats the question and receives the same reply. You watch her take his ring from a small girl dressed in pink and place it on his finger. "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife." 

"You may now kiss your bride." He does so, placing his hands on her shoulders and pressing his lips against hers. The pastor holds up his hands, bringing the cheering crowd to their feet.

Kirishima and Mina leave the gazebo, arms linked, with huge smiles on their faces. The best man, maid of honor, and the groomsmen and bridesmaids follow suit, falling in behind them. They stop near the end of the walk, forming the start of the receiving line. 

The family and guests file down, pausing for hugs and kisses and congratulating the young couple. Mina then turns around and throws her bouquet of flowers behind her. The women collide with each other as they try to catch it. 

She cheers loud when the bouquet falls in your hands, and you giggle and wave it around, the women’s disappointed groans muffled in your ears when you catch the beautiful vermillions of your partner, oblivious to the golden specks that have been eyeing your every move since you stepped foot into the wedding.

“You could’ve been more obvious about wantin’ me to put a ring on your finger.” Katsuki chuckles against your ear, standing behind you with his hands on your hips, both of you looking at the newlyweds as they enter the reception with everyone awwing at them as they did their first dance as husband and wife.

The sun has set long ago, the full moon hanging and illuminating the area beautifully, the fairy lights and lamps circling the area, making the happy couple look absolutely glowing, and you smile at the scene from outside the dance floor.

“They fell in my hands ‘Suki.” you giggle, lacing your fingers between his, “Besides, you already did, didn’t you?” 

“Hmm,” his breath tickles your ear, fingers twisting your engagement ring around your ring finger, “was forced to, after all that whinin’ ‘bout wantin’ to settle down and not knowin’ when we’ll see each other when we’re goin’ on missions, and cherishin’ the lives-” he fakes a snore and rests his full weight on your back, both of you laughing as you tip forward and he catches you in time, placing his hand on your waist again and swaying with you as you see your friends happier than they ever were.

You look perfect, standing there holding each other, absolutely and utterly disgusting. Denki stares at you, fire spreading in his abdominal, his lungs constricting with every breath he takes the longer he looks at you. Swaying together, Katsuki’s lips pressing against your temple and you letting out the most beautiful laugh, Denki can’t help but clench the front of his shirt at the sight, wishing, hoping for nothing more than to be in his shoes, being the one lucky enough to be able to hold you that close, the one that has the privilege to hear your laugh, the one to make you laugh.

“Hey Denki,” He is snapped back to reality when Kirishima stands in front of him, blocking his view from the flawless couple. “H-hey Eiji! Congratulations bro, you’re finally a married man!” They hug, Denki’s eyes never leaving you while Katsuki twirls you to face him and peppers kisses across your face. “Thanks man! Hey sorry, could you get Bakugou for me real quick, we’re taking a few pictures with the best man and the maid of honor.”

“Right away, man of the hour.” 

Oh God, oh God, he isn’t ready to face you yet. You look too pretty, he doesn’t feel worthy to be in your presence, driven to bow down and ask for forgiveness for even breathing the same as yours. And yet, you smile upon his arrival, even letting go of Bakugou’s hand to wave him over, and you’re blessing him with your smile, giggles sounding like the singing of angels when he waves back excitedly.

“Hi!” you beam up at him the minute he’s close enough to be graced with your voice, “Where have you been, it’s like you were avoiding me all this time,” you pout for a second and Denki could swear he felt his heart skip multiple beats when your lips wobble and a smile makes it way back up at him.

“H-hey, ummm, Baku- uh.” he laughs at himself, trying to collect whatever dignity he has left. “Uh, Eiji is lookin’ for ya bro, something about a photoshoot with the maid of honor?” The groan Bakugou lets out is enough of a confirmation.

“Fuckin’ pain in my fuckin’ ass bitch” he grumbles, pressing his lips against your temple again, promising to come back after the ‘Motherfuckin’ bitch shoot’ is done. You only reply by squeezing his arm, a silent reassurance that you’ll be waiting for him when he gets back.

It's so revolting, the way he swears up and down, having the filthiest mouth with his words, not even respecting the beautiful goddess that tries to calm his nasty self down, he should be more considerate of you and your feelings, God he loathes the way he treats you. The way he mistreats you. 

You deserve to be treated so much better than that, the way Denki would, he’d downright kiss the ground you walk on, remind you every day that you’re the best thing that ever happened to him, the best goddamn thing to ever grace this earth.

Okay, you’re staring. God, has she been staring too? Denki, people always say you never shut up, use it to your advantage for once in your life.

Denki extends his arm to you, curses under his breath, wipes his sweaty palm against his pant leg before extending it again. "Would you like to dance?" You raise your eyebrows. "Would you like to dance?"

"Well, dancing is what a charming gentleman like myself would do.” He beames at the chuckle you let out. “Besides, you're beautiful and I want to show you off.” He pauses. “You know, while Bakugou is busy with his best man duties and all."

You smile, your pretty lips letting out a little giggle at his posture as he starts wiggling his fingers persuasively, and shake your head. "You know what? Yeah, I would like to dance."

Arm-in-arm, you and Denki head into the dance floor and step onto the wooden ground. You felt him move easily with you, agile and confident with the music as he takes the lead. His hands slowly yet surely reach to your lower back, but you shrug it off.

"Ah, expect tango music after this," he says. Eyes gleaming as they shift over to the DJ that nods in acknowledgement to him. He frowns when he sees your averted face, shifting your eyes away from his, observing, searching for him, your fiance, the person he wishes he could be, someone he could never be.

Denki trips over his words in an effort to regain your attention, “A-anyway, uh, um. Hey! Did you know that uh, t-tango is banned in other places of the world?" you raise your eyebrows. 

“Is it?”

 “Yeah, wanna know why?” 

“Didn’t expect you to know honestly.” He smiles as you laugh lightly, but something tugs at his heartstrings, its because you think of him as nothing but stupid brainless dunce face, depsite him entering and graduating one of the best hero courses in all of Japan, alongside you of all people, despite his hero work, the people he saves, the villains he captures, fuck. 

You don’t miss the way his face falls after your remark, an almost sour expression passing through before he clears his throat and looks behind your shoulder at basically nothing. “S-so,” you start, “Why was it banned?”

The blond’s eyes flicker over to you and soften at the way you’re cocking your head and smiling at him, despite him getting upset with you. What is he doing? He’s experiencing something straight out of his fantasies, having you pressed so close to him, dancing with him and smiling at him. No one else. 

“Oh, okay okay, so. It was considered the dance of the low-lifes at the worst places of society when it first emerged, and so the church banned it, because they said it had the music of the “immoral” factions of society”

“Oh? Why’s that.”

“It was considered an oversexualized dance. Portraying the sin and seduction of the Devil. It represents the Devil's nostalgia, his unrequited aspirations, loneliness, rejection, and misery. The longing of someone who will never fit in, who has never had love nor passion.” He takes a deep breath.  

“It's like sex, except with clothes on.”

 In a failed attempt to seduce you, he stumbles and steps on your heels. Earning a weak yelp from you as you back up from him.

It's okay, it's okay, he can fix this. Oh God the music stopped. Okay he gets to dance tango with you now and press you even more against him and hold you even closer, okay. God, are his hands always this sweaty?

The silence that follows the stopping of the music makes him panic, you’re so close, he just needs to reach out and hold you against him again. Press your tender body against his, let him pretend you’re his, pretend that he’s lucky enough to take you home with him. Help you take off your dress, press kisses against the curves of your body, make love to you all night.

Put all of that is cut short when he feels a daunting presence behind him, and he doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is. Because the way your face lights up at that presence is enough to stop his blood from pumping, enough for him to see only red, for him to dig his nails into the palm of his hands until he feels it piercing his skin.

“Hey,” the taunting voice of Katsuki Bakugou reminds him how beneath him he really is. “Yer havin fun with my girl.” it wasn’t a question. Despite that, in a desperate attempt to feel your touch one more time before you’re swept away by your big strong hero, that he would never be able to match to.

With trembling fingers, Denki grasps your hand and brings your knuckles close to his lips, eyes boring into each other while he kisses them, and you only grin in appreciation at his manners, doing the most adorable courtesy he has ever seen in his life, almost forgetting the looming presence of his former classmate.

Bakugou moves around Denki to reach you, and Kaminari knows at this point all hope is lost for you to dance with him, or better yet, have any interaction with him again for the entirety of the night. Katsuki held your hand with surprising firmness, caramel scent wafting through as you feel how sweaty his hands really are. 

“Are you warm?” You mumble, lacing your fingers through his when his reaction is to pull his hands away to wipe them at his pants. 

“No.” It's firm and it's rough, yet it isn’t directed at you. It’s directed to the other blond that surprisingly still hasn’t backed down and is still standing straight, eyeing how you two act as a couple, how he wishes you would hold his hand, ask him if he was warm, embrace all his insecurities.

As your fiance leads you back to the center of the dance floor. Hand starting at your waist but quickly slipping to grab a handful of your ass, chuckling when you squeal and slap his chest. Something wicked gleams in his eyes when the first tune of the violin starts playing, drifting with the harmony of the accordion.

“You and I both know that my knowledge of tango is as much as my knowledge for knitting, that’s right, nonexistent.”

“You know my body, don’t you?” he doesn’t wait for an answer. “Follow my lead, let your body do the talking.”

“You’re crazy.” yet you still laugh, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips as he pulls you impossibly close to him, raveling in the feeling of your chest pressed to his. You’re rolling your eyes a little at the way his smirk stretches when he pinches your butt, but you instantly shiver when he places his warm calloused hand within the cutout of your dress on your lower back, skin to skin. And just like your body is made to be molded against his, you place your arm over his shoulder while the other is engulfed in his. 

He steps close, too close, scandalously close. Pressing his cheek against your temple and only then meeting the eyes of Denki, that's when his smile drops, every playful act with you is gone. His magma filled eyes staring into the soul of the electrical hero.

Mine MineMineMine

Neither were stupid, Katsuki knows what Denki is doing, and Denki is well aware of Katsuki’s ability to piece shit together.

Denki is left lonesomely standing by the DJ, watching the way you two dance, the way Bakugou steps forward in your space and you stepping back to accommodate him. He seethes in his stance as you two rock on your feet, the way Bakugou handles your body with firmness and strength, yet softly watching you when you giggle at the way he spins your body effortlessly. Kaminari sees the way you let yourself be led, the way you trust Bakugou to handle you, hold you, care for you, in ways he could only hope for you to see him.

You are perfectly synchronized, almost fluid like, an extension of each other, like you had done this a million times before, practised day and night to perfect it. Bakugou takes his time twirling you across the room, seductively slow. Thighs brushing against each other with every stupid turn.

His body whispering commands to yours, daring it to misbehave, you step and lean and sway, every movement perfect and precise, like an intricate choreography that you have never learned, but your bodies remembering them. He dances with you the way he has sex—with exquisite control, infinite patience, and aggressive moves.

Huh, that's what Denki must have meant.

At that moment, your eyes catch him standing outside the dance floor, and you almost don’t recognize the man alone, filled by ugly emotions they couldn’t help but spill and show on his expression. Sour and hateful and just plain cruel looking.

Katsuki’s mouth curves in a lazy smile at how your brows furrow, spinning you in a vigorous turn so he’s the one facing him instead. You aren’t dense, you feel the eyes on you, well aware who they belong to as they burn through your back. He lowers his head, forcing you to look back up at him, your lips grazing against his, too close.

“Yer puttin’ on a show for your boy?” 

“A show- no you ass, weren’t you the one that wanted to dance?” you try to lean away to scold him -yes, middance- but the blond lowers further, until you think he’s trying to get you to shut up by kissing you. Suddenly he’s dipping you low, his face stays only a few inches away from yours, your back arching beautifully.

A static sound dwells on you, followed by the buzzing of electricity. The lights flicker and you instinctively grab at Katsuki, tightening your hold against his bicep, your eyes searching his when he doesn’t lift you back up, only to find him not even looking at you.

His fingers are tingling, tips wiggling as they shoot little sparks at the sight in front of him, his golden eyes illuminating in the momentary darkness as they clash with the magma filled rubies, challenging him, taunting him, mocking him.

MineMineMine

And when Denki accidentally short circuits the entire DJ booth, the dance hall instantly quiets, a blanket of silence weighing them down and daring someone to break it. And yet, Bakugou has other plans, of course.

Sneakily, he slides his hand down from your back to your knee, firmly grabbing your leg as his eyes meet yours before lifting it to his hip. Fingers slipping under your dress and grazing your upper thighs, sending goosebumps racing across your skin, not having the courage to break eye contact until you hear the gasp of a few of the attendees. Only then does he close the gap between to press his lips against yours, the little audience you collected clapping and cheering you along.

The whistling and cheering is loud enough for you to miss the sound of Denki’s fist slam against the table and the sobs wrecking him as he drags his feet away from the scene. 

BakugousBakugousBakugous

Sero grunts as he struggles to push the hotel room door open with Denki leaning his full weight on him. It takes him a couple of tries to finally get the drunk man on the bed, slapping his hands away as Denki tries to grab at and kiss the man. 

“C’moooon, Hantaaaaa, s’not like you don’ wanna, look atchu, you’re takin’ off m’clothes but you don’ wanna kiss me?”

“You ass, I’m taking off your shoes because you stepped in your own vomit.” 

The man gags, chugging the shoes in the trash can and helping his friend ease off of his suit jacket. “Yer a good man Hanta, say, you wanna be m’best man?” Sero laughs, shaking his head as he tries to help him lay on his stomach, “y’know, when I marry y/n.” 

The silence that follows is deafening, Sero not having the heart to talk when he catches the sound of Denki sniffing and burying his head in his pillow.

“I- “

“Jus’ leave me alone, Sero.”

And he does, the only confirmation of his solitude is the echoing click of the door’s lock as Sero leaves Denki to brew in his own self loathing.

It takes Denki a few minutes to collect himself, the nausea forcing him to take off his shirt and pants, lying down on his back to feel the cool air on his chest. He doesn’t realize he has his eyes closed until he snaps them open when he hears his door click close.

There you are, radiating, mesmerizing, you’re practically glowing, standing there by his door, adorned by your… nightgown? 

God, please don’t say you’re in the wrong room, please don’t say you’re in the wrong room.

“You sure you’re in the right room y/n?”

You don’t answer, you just simply, untie your robe. And Denki’s eyes practically bulge out when the silk robe slips right off of your shoulder and drops in a pile on the floor by your feet. He can’t look you in the eyes, he’s looking at every inch of exposed skin he can muster, committing every curve, every dip, every contour, every fucking thing to memory.

“You’re here, aren’t you?” that’s when he looks back up at your eyes -after shamelessly staring at your peaking nipples for a second too long - blinking twice at your words. He sits up with a struggle, “W-wait, what about Bakugou?”

“What about him?”

And honestly, that alone almost made him bust a nut.

You’re pushing at his chest until he lays back down, throwing your leg over his figure and straddling him. Instantly, he feels your warmth pressing against his strained length and his body shivers at the thumbing against it. 

“You’re so good to me Denki,” you breathe, fingers combing through his hair before you take a fistful of it and lightly tug, rolling your hips against his and relishing in the whines he lets out, slender fingers reaching for your thighs and grabbing handfuls, his eyes begging for you to do it again, and when you do, he throws his head back and moans.

“You treat me so well,” you pout, nails tracing his sweaty flushed chest, peppering kisses along it, moving up until you reach his ear, biting at it and giggling when he ruts his hips up against you. Feeling your slick dampen the front of his boxers as his leaky cock does the same. “So pretty for me” he whines again, eyes blown out and chest heaving at the feeling of being kissed by you, held by you, touched by you, hell, looked at by you.

“Fuck, again, ah- d-don’t stop, pleaseplease-”

“Use your words baby, wadda you want?” he thrashes against the bed when you grind your hips against his again, the tips of his fingers buzzing and twitching when you’re lowering yourself to press your chest against his face. 

“Fuck, wanna feel your pretty pussy, feel you squeeze my cock, please, just -ah, put it in.” it's all muffled from the spit collecting on tongue and the way he’s smothered by your tits but honestly he wouldn’t have it any other way.

His body refuses to move as you scoot lower, straddling his thigh and grinding your hips against it, wickedly smiling as he whines ‘nonono’ when you do, “m-my cock, my cock, please stop teasin’.” the tip of your finger traces the elastic of his boxers, giggling at the way his body jerks up and at the gasp he lets out when you snap it against his hip. Before gliding your finger against his strained cock, enjoying the way it twitches under your touch, feeling it harden against you.

You coo at him as you pull off his boxers, when you see that there is no initiation from him to move. The sight of his pretty cock with its fiery head welcoming you and you can’t help but grab at it. “Pretty boy all needy for me, hmm?” You give it a lick from the base to the tip, sucking on the head of his cock and feeling it twitch inside of your mouth, hollowing out your cheek and looking up to see the way his face flushes, his body illuminating with the crackling of the thunders around him, twitching his body before he breathes out a few times to calm himself down.

How is he so lucky? How is he blessed with having your lips wrapped around his cock, just looking at you is tightening a knot in his belly, and he can’t help but throw his head back and close his eyes in an effort to prolong his orgasm to feel even more of you.

He doesn't open his eyes until he feels a looming shadow on him, and that's when he catches sight of you again, the moon hitting your face, your glistening precum-covered lips smiling down at him.

“Want me to take care of you?” You tease, chuckling breathlessly as Denki feels your pussy on his cock, your slick covering it as you roll your hips and feel your pussy gush at the way his body shivers in ecstasy at your touch. “Yes! Please mommy ye-”

“Mommy?” Did he just say it out loud? “No, ah- fuck, no-no I didn’t say that I-” you don’t even let him talk, gyrating your hips again, covering his dick with your slick, without having your walls flutter around him just yet.

It takes a few teasing grinds of you against him to have him sobbing at this point, “m-mommy please just please! I wanna, ah” he thrashes when the tip of his leaky cock catches your clit, the lightnings he’s producing passing by his eyes and obscuring his blurry vision for a while, before he’s blessed with the sight of you beautifully arched on top of him. “In, in, wanna feel the pretty pussy, please please lemme feel the pretty pussy.” it's just meaningless babbling at this point, anything to get your walls tightening around his cock, all sensitive from being rubbed against you for god knows how long.

And when his head catches your cunt, he all but cries out at the way it clenches at the head, bucking his hips up to feel more of you. Wanting you to swallow him whole, take him all the way in. “Y’gonna just fuck into my pussy like that, hmm? Is that how you’re treatin’ mommy now?” “n-no! Ah, m’sorry pleaseplease, I just, you feel s’good, you’re s’tight aaah, wanna feel more, please I want more more more,” and he does. So, without a warning, you drop your hips and impale yourself on his cock, and for fuck’s sake all of what Denki saw what white for a few seconds, he could’ve sworn he heard a few angels singing, even.

“That what you want, hmm? Want her to take care of her pretty boy?” you pout mockingly, bouncing yourself on his lap as he tries to grab hold of your hips to guide you, but the way you’re jerking his body has his head dizzy and his sight swimming, the low buzzing of his quirk muffled by the wet slaps of your skin against his, your ass clapping against his thighs and he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget that sound, and he just settles for letting you please yourself with his cock, because if you’re gonna use him as a fucking dildo, then he wouldn’t fucking have it any other way.

Weakly snapping his hips upwards with the drops of your hips, Denki’s leg shake and it takes a few more times for his cock to fully seath itself in your tight walls for him to let go, feeling your pussy squeeze his cock for all his worth as your pants turn into whines, suddenly they’re very afar, almost like you’re underwater. Yet he’s the one feeling like his lungs are constricted when he hears the name you’re calling, and it isn’t his. “Ka- ahh- suki…”

Only then does Denki realize that you aren’t in his room, your discarded rope isn’t thrown haphazardly on the floor by the door, your slick isn’t covering his thigh or coating his dick, and the worst of all, your pussy isn’t the one that has been squeezing his cock, oh no.

It was his hand, those slender fingers wrapping around his softening cock, smeared with his cum. He lifts his hand in horror, disgust and shame eating him up, especially when his ears perk up at your sound.

“Fuck, Katsu- yesyesyes, right there, yes!” Whatever nausea he felt subsiding is coming back tenfold, burning his throat as he slaps his hand over his mouth, anything to stop himself from puking on himself.

“Ha, that what you want? Getting dicked down after havin’ fun with that fuckin’ dunce face.” The wet sounds of Bakugou’s hips slapping yours is almost making his ears bleed. “Havin’ that prick touchin’ ya like that. Fuckin’ slut, all of that to rile me up so I can fuck that tight lil pussy, that what you want?”

Denki doesn’t know what’s the last nail on the coffin, the absolute filth being spewed to you, tainting your angelic ears, that aren’t meant to hear anything but praises and confessions of love and gratitude, the fact that you’re squealing and moaning for him to fuck you even harder, or the fact that he’s listening to every squealching sound, every creak the bed made, every slam of the headboard against your shared wall, every breath, every moan, every scream, everything.

That's when Denki flings himself off of the bed and empties his stomach, right on the floor next to his bed, tears stinging his eyes as he tries to trick himself that it's because of the way his throat is burning and not because of the way his heart is shattering, feeling it wrenched from his chest and thrown on the floor, stepped on and spat on and just beaten to the point of no return.

Sniffing and lifting his head up, Denki can’t help but see red, his whole body crackling with newfound vigor, his whole body is numb, like his quirk is taking the lead, putting his consciousness on the back burner. He chuckles, despite you moaning out Katsuki’s name when you find your release, despite him calling yours as he finds his, despite hearing your giggles and the kisses he’s pressing against god knows where on your body, despite the tears streaming down his face.

The last thing Denki remembers before he lets his quirk take complete control over him, is the humming of energy, the fleeting blinding brightness, the shattering of the light bulbs all around him, the loud deafening bangs, almost like music to his ears and finally, the sound of you screeching in horror. 

Hope you like it! Kithes kithes

[vbpotter]

Malfoy (James Potter x reader)

Warnings: Angst 

A/n : I take requests <3

We all love someone . They say, that loving someone is the best feeling. They say that loving someone feels like you are floating in the air, their thoughts clouding your mind. They say that loving someone is peaceful, because you have finally found your home. They say that Loving someone is like having something to heal you, to carry you, to encourage you. They say that loving someone is worth living for. 

But, only a few people know what it is like to not be loved. Only some people know what it feels like. Only some people know how much it hurts. Only some people know how it feels to be ignored, to be the second choice, to not be loved by your family, to not be loved by the person you have handed your heart to. Only some people know how much it hurts to be not loved , to always be the second choice, to always be the least preferred one, to always be not enough, to always be a disappointment, to live with no love. 

Someone who knew exactly how it felt like was Y/n Malfoy. 

Yes..... Y/n Malfoy. 

The Youngest Malfoy of the family. 

Now..... Growing up as the only daughter of the family, and not to mention the youngest child would have been easy, right?  especially if you are from a rich family who has high standards and is very respectable, having elves to do your work left and right, to be raised like a princess?  

Yes.... She was raised like a princess..... But not a normal princess..... She was raised as Rapunzel. 

Trapped in a tower,  hidden from the outside world , learning everything that the people of the tower taught her, believing that what the people of the tower said was always true ..... Until one day, she decided to know what the outside world was. 

So she ran, escaped from under dozens of gazes, unseen. And..... For the first time in her life, she saw something worth looking at. 

She happily skipped around, looking at the trees filled with flowers, that were so different from the dark trees surrounding her Manor. She saw beautiful birds chirping , multi coloured birds that were so different than the white peacocks that she usually saw at Malfoy Manor. She saw the sky, light blue with different shapes of clouds floating in it,  it was so different than the dark ceiling of the Malfoy Manor. 

She smiled and ran,  admiring the scenery around her. That is when she reached an open area, that she guessed was a playground. She saw a couple with a young boy. That was the time five year old Y/n Malfoy met James Potter for the first time. 

Since that day, Y/n would sneak out from Malfoy Manor every evening for an hour, during the time when her mum was at her daily Tea Party with her friends, her father in his library and her brother playing the piano. 

She and James would play on the swings and chat happily. She even got to know his parents, Fleamont and Euphemia Potter,  who were very happy that James had someone to play with ,since they lived in a large Manor at the edge of a small forest .

Everything went smoothly, until one day, her brother caught her sneaking out. That was probably the worst day of Y/n's life .She still vividly remembered her brother's harsh glare, her parents' disappointed looks and the punishment she received afterwards. That was the first time Y/n had been tortured with the Cruciatus Curse, not knowing that she would be receiving more of it in the future. 

The Malfoys were forced to move away , since - the Dark Lord ordered them to .

Malfoy Manor was then established at an even worse place, in the Middle of a Dark Forest , its location unknown to everyone. Even Y/n didn't know in which part of the world they were living in , but, the life of the six year old Y/n was already ruined. 

The next five years of her life were the worse. She felt as if she was trapped even more tightly in the tower, like Rapunzel. 

There were house elves around her room every hour of the day. She was forced to wear long and puffy dresses , which she hated . She was forced to go to fancy Balls and meet new people, mainly boys her age. She hated it, her parents were determined to get her married at a young age to a respectable boy form a  pure blood family, so that they didn't have to deal with her anymore. It was disgusting. They were trying to arrange or even engage a six year old with a boy her age, or even quite older than her. 

She hated their ideas. She would wince, whenever someone talked about Muggles and Muggleborns.....in such a way t-that even the worst person in the world didn't deserve to be t-talked to or about. She had snapped at such people many times, and she had been punished...... The same number of many times. So much, that the cruciatus curse didn't hurt her anymore. 

Her parents couldn't kill her, nor disown her. Because , the dark lord said that young children were valuable and that they would be useful for his army in the future .

Y/n still remembered ,the day when she was united with James Potter. She was on the Hogwarts Express , going to Hogwarts for the first time. Her parents had just lectured her about not to talk to 'filthy people ' and her brother had left her with a harsh glare , running towards the prefects compartment where he was to be sitting. 

Y/n sighed after her brother left her with another of his classic Malfoy glares. She looked around and headed forward, searching for a compartment with the least people or no people at all. She finally found one, only one person was sitting in there. 

" Hey! Can I sit here? " Y/n asked. The person who was staring out of the window looked at her, and Y/n felt her throat dry down when she was met by a familiar pair of Hazel eyes, only this time - they were covered by thick round glasses. 

"J-James ?" Y/n muttered, her voice shaking. 

" Y-Y/n?" The boy asked and Y/n felt a wave of Happiness overcome her. 

And then after years, the two long separated friends embraced each other in a warm hug. But, James didn't know that Y/n was ten times more happier to see him than he was to see her. 

As Y/n, now in her 7th year,  sat in the couch of Gryffindor common room, she felt herself smile as she was reminded of the memory. 

Y/n was sorted into Gryffindor, giving her parents and brother another reason to hate her. 

She and James were quick to become close friends again , and soon, they were joined by Sirius, Remus and Peter - the 5 of them, together being the Marauders. 

Since First year, James was obsessed over Lily , Y/n's fellow roommate. She and Lily weren't friends, per say, but - they didn't hate each other either. The two would always have small conversations and would often discuss their homework notes together. 

Y/n never opposed to the idea of her best friends chasing after Lily . She always encouraged him to go forward , she always encouraged him that he could do it . But , It was in her fourth year did she realize that what she felt towards James wasn't just friendship . She realized that the little weigh she felt on her shoulders after hearing him ramble about Lily  was not tiredness , she realized that the little churning of her stomach around him , the blush she got when he flirted with her without even realizing it .......all of it , was not just platonic ........at least not for her . 

But, she didn't act Bitchy like others would have in this situation. She didn't get angry when James ditched her loads of times just to try to spend time with the red Head. She didn't get annoyed when he treated her like one of the boys.

All she did was smile. She plastered a fake smile on her face and encouraged him to keep going, to try and get the Red Head. 

But, even though she felt the weight of the whole world on her shoulders, even though she felt her heart sink down day by day - she was happy. She was Happy for her best friend.She was happy when she saw him progress on the Red Head he had been chasing after, She felt happy when he was happy. And..... She knew that she shouldn't be Selfish. She had accepted her fate long ago, she had accepted that she and James weren't meant to be together. She had accepted that she had to stay with this weight her entire life. But a little part of her ...........It told her that she could at least hope  ...................But then , another part of her told her that she was useless and worthless, nothing but a waste of space . And Oh-How it crumbled her .

Despite it all, Y/n always stood by him. She stood by him when he cried , she stood by him when he felt like he was not good enough , she stood by him when he needed to hold someone ..........he held onto her and she never complained . 

James didn't know, but, he had landed all the weight of his life and feelings on the girl, and it broke her. But she still stood by him, every time, as a friend,  never asking for anything, never asking for more, never caring about herself, never wanting anything other than helping him,  even though her whole existence was the thing she needed help with.

She didn't only stand up alongside James. She stood up for Peter when he was bullied and body shamed for being fat. She comforted him when he cried. 

She stood by Remus when he felt like he was a monster. She was the one to help him along with the other Marauders during the full moons .She was the one who would heal Remus's wounds in the middle of the night, in the early morning, or whenever Remus felt like he wanted someone to heal is wounds and whisper soothing words in his ear. She was the one who taught Remus that you always have something worth living for, even though she herself didn't know why she was living. 

She stood with Sirius when he was disowned, when His Brother hated him, when Sirius felt like he was a mistake, a disappointment.

Despite, she never had anyone to hold onto . Her parents and brother , who were supposed to be her family, treated her like a piece of trash . She was alone , but she never showed it . Just because she didn't want to be a burden , just because she didn't want to be Selfish .

Sirius and Remus knew about her feelings for James,  the two could look through her smile completely. Peter was an oblivious person and he never knew what was going on, but still, the three of them always were there to cheer her up , but - none of them saw the completely broken her. 

Y/n looked around the Gryffindor common room she was currently sat in. She looked at the time and realized that the boys should have been back from their daily "boys time" by now.

Just as the thought crossed her mind,  The portrait hole of the Common room opened and in came Remus , Sirius and Peter,  laughing loudly. 

" Good evening, gentleman. You are 5 minutes late " Y/n said,  folding her hands over her chest and showing the three her watch. The three gave her guilty smiles and settled themselves on the couches around her . 

" Guys.... Where is James? " Y/n asked looking around. Sirius and Remus exchanged a look and avoided looking at her . Peter was sitting as if he didn't know what was going on , like always.

The next second The Portrait Hole opened and In walked James and Lily, their arms wrapped around each other and their clothes and hair looking disheveled and.... Both of them had the biggest smile on their faces. 

Y/n saw , as James led Lily towards the girls' dorm staircase . Lily whispered something in his year and the both of them giggled . Lily plated a kiss on his cheek , and then giving him a wink-she left , leaving James behind - Who's face was as red as Lily's hair.

He stared at her all the way until she disappeared . Then , he turned around swiftly - Smiling so widely that it looked as if his cheeks would split in half .

"SHE SAID YES! SHE SAID YES , GUYS!!!!!" James Shouted , his voice shaking a bit due to happiness .

In a second , Remus and Sirius's heads snapped towards Y/n - giving her sad looks . But , the reaction from her was not what they expected .

She smiled. And it wasn't a fake one - it was a genuine one . 

Y/n felt her heart clench at James's words . But , she noticed how happy he was , she noticed how happy she made him . And in that moment, she completely accepted the fact that he loved Lily , and that the two belonged together . She accepted that Lily made him happy . She was happy that her friend finally found someone he deserved , finally found someone worthy of Him . Y/n always knew that she didn't deserve him , she didn't deserve to have him in her broken life . Even though she was distraught , her best friend's happiness was all she needed . And she smiled. She smiled because he was happy , she smiled because she finally figured it out , she smiled because she knew that he would be happy . And Y/n would do anything , anything to bring her friends happiness , even if it meant giving up her own . 

" Ooohhh ..............Congrats , Romeo " Y/n said enthusiastically , smiling up at her best friend .

Part 2 coming up..........

[saeyoungchoismaid]

The brothers’ reaction to MC wearing an occult symbol

Genre: angst?, fluff Warnings: Belphie’s has earlier lesson spoilers. Y’all know the one  A/N: Writing Satan’s reminds me that I want to write hcs or fics where the whole demon thing is more realistic. Ya know like they kill people and that sort of thing but n e ways-

Lucifer:

it only took him a second to get a weird vibe from you 

well, not actually you but an energy coming from you 

once he gets close enough to you, he starts to feel his skin crawl

he looks over your being before spotting a hidden chain disappearing into your shirt

“May I?” he asks, bringing his hand close to your neck and pointing at your hidden necklace

you look down in confusion before realizing what he’s referring to 

“Oh. Uh, yeah, sure,” you reply confusedly but agree nonetheless 

he hesitates for only a second before grasping the necklace and pulling it up

he clenches his jaw when the chain starts to burn him, his fingers quickly releasing it once the hidden pendant is on the outside of your shirt

your eyes widen in shock when you see his red fingers pull away from your neck, a frown coming to your face 

“Ah, just as I thought,” he says softly, staring down at your chest

you flush and look down, spotting your necklace for everyone to see 

“I’m not sure if you know this or not but that pendant is actually an occult symbol. It wards off demons and burns them when they touch it. It’s honestly probably a good idea to wear it until everyone gets used to your presence,” he informs before taking a step away from you 

you gently pick it up between your fingers, staring down at it with a frown

“Oh, okay,” you say softly

you didn’t like the thought of hurting anyone but he has a point. They’ve already explained to you that not all demons are friendly with humans, so some might try to attack you 

guess this pendant will be useful during your stay 

(don’t worry. You eventually take it off for Mr. Grumpy Pants)

Mammon:

he always gets uncomfortable being too close to you but not for the reasons you think 

this man is a SIMP, okay?

he wants to be near you 24/7 but physically finds it hard to do so 

it takes him a while to figure out why though 

one day, you wear a low-cut shirt and there lays a necklace around your neck 

of course, this man looks STRAIGHT at your chest because woughnwgwg exposed skin 

but then he notices the necklace 

do you always wear that?

“Heya, (Y/n). Do ya, uh, always wear that necklace?” he asks you after pondering on it for a while 

it would make sense as to why his skin always crawls and why he feels like he always has an itch he just can’t scratch 

you look down at the necklace and smile, picking it up between your delicate fingers

“Huh? Oh, yeah. It came with a Halloween costume I wore last year and I guess I liked it enough to always wear it,” you reply as you look down at it before letting it go 

he grunts and stares at it, trying to make it combust with his eyes alone 

“Do you think you could stop wearing it?” he asks softly

this makes your eyes widen, a small pout gracing your smooth lips 

“What? Why? Do you not like it?” you ask quietly, disappointment filling your tone 

and, of course, Mammon panics 

“What? No! Well, kinda. Not for the reason ya think though! It’s jus that it’s an occult symbol, meaning it’s used to keep demons away,” he sputters out before eventually getting to his point 

at this, your face becomes crestfallen 

“Oh. That’s why you guys always seem so nervous and uncomfortable around me...” you mumble

before he can comfort you, you take it off and move to throw it away 

“I won’t ever wear it again then,” you promise with a warm smile 

Levi: 

he knew something was off about you but he wasn’t sure what it was until the TSL competition 

just like the others, he felt itchy and maybe even a little sick when he got too close to you 

but you were so nice! and pretty! and smart! 

he couldn’t help wanting to get to know you better

when the TSL competition happened though, he ended up being blinded by jealousy and attacked you 

he got close enough to grab you by your shirt 

the thing is, your necklace flew out of your shirt when he tugged you forward and it fell across his hand

he hisses and pulls away from you, looking down at the red lines now adorning his skin 

this calms him down a bit surprisingly

you, on the other hand, were still freaking out 

“I’m sorry! What just happened? Are you okay?” you ask as you gently cradle his injured hand 

he stares at you in confusion before it converts to awe 

he just attacked you and you’re still worried about him 

yeah, he’s in love 

when he doesn’t reply, Lucifer steps in 

“Your necklace caused the burn. It’s an occult symbol, meaning it wards demons away. Guess it worked in your favor just now.”

“I’m sorry,” Levi says quickly after Lucifer is done talking 

he then swears that you won’t need to wear it around him anymore, feeling guilty for attacking you 

Satan:

this smart demon knew what he was feeling right away 

he’s read enough books to know that you probably have some sort of occult symbol on you somewhere 

he doesn’t bring it up though 

he’d rather hangout around you and feel his skin crawl and for his skin to go ice cold than to have you take it off and risk you getting in danger with other demons 

not that he’d let that happen. He’d skin someone alive before letting them close enough to hurt you 

once you two start getting closer though, you notice that if you try to hold his hand or to cuddle into him on the couch while watching a movie, he flinches away from you 

it breaks your heart, really 

which he instantly notices and realizes he has to talk to you about before he loses you 

“Darling, can I see you in my room for a moment?” Satan calls to you as you walk past his room, your heart skipping a beat as the pet name rolls off his tongue with ease

once you enter, he asks that you close his door, which causes you to grow nervous and excited at the same time 

once the door is closed, he starts to explain the whole situation to you 

he can’t even finish his explanation before you’re ripping it off your neck and throwing it away into his trash bin

he chuckles as he stands, meeting you by his desk where you threw the necklace away 

he bends over to take it out of the trash, grunting when the necklace burns him 

before he can hand it back to you, you snatch it out of his hand

“Why would you do that?” you cry in despair, your free hand cradling his injured one 

he smiles at you and squeezes your hand while his free hand comes up to bring your head up 

“Because I still want you to wear it when you go out. It would just be nice to be closer to you without it, my love,” he coos, making you gulp at how close he is to you 

you nod your head though and place it in your pocket, noticing the goosebumps covering his arms 

“I’ll go put it away in my room and then we can cuddle,” you declare

Asmo:

bruh 

he notices it right away because of course he tries getting close to you right away 

he gets a foot away from you and that’s when he feels it 

he pouts as he stops his prowl towards you, trying to shake off the feeling of unease and nervousness

which is definitely a new feeling for him 

he backs away from you and finds that those odd feelings are slowly fading away from his body 

weird 

he doesn’t really understand what it is until much later

he kept his distance but still flirted like a madman

which apparently worked since you liked him 

so, when he decides to ignore the weird feeling and goes to kiss you one day, his hands gently rest on the side of your neck as he kisses you 

well, he didn’t actually get to kiss you seeing as the chain burns his hands and he pulls away with a sharp gasp 

you both stare down at his red hands in silence, trying to process what just happened 

before you can even react, one of his hands come back to your neck and snaps your necklace off of you 

“Asmo!” you screech, going to pull it out of his grip when he throws it across the room

as soon as it’s out of his hand, his hands gently clasp your cheeks before smashing his lips to yours 

after a spicy makeout session, he briefly explains what your necklace was before going back to kissing you 

Beel: 

my poor baby didn’t understand what was going on 🥺

he’d go to give you a hug or offer you some food and found it impossible to be close to you 

it upset him immensely 

my mans likes to show his affection physically AND verbally like a legend 

but he can’t get closer than a foot to you before he starts to feel a different kind of pit in his stomach 

it wasn’t until you came to one of his games that it all became clear what was going on 

he made the final point needed to win the game, all of his teammates knocking against his helmet and lightly shoving him 

when you came over though, they parted like the red sea for you 

you squeezed Beel into a hug and it felt perfect other than the weird feeling that comes over him 

he moves to wrap his arms around your shoulders, his body suddenly jolting away from yours

your eyes widen at him, your heart lurching up in your throat 

did you make him uncomfortable? But it seemed like he was going to hug you back? 

he grabs your hand and starts to drag you off the field and away from prying eyes  

you try to ignore the butterflies in your tummy from his hand holding yours 

once you two are alone, he lets you go, which causes the butterflies to instantly die

“(Y/n), do you think you could get rid of your necklace?” he asks nervously 

he’s afraid that he’s being too selfish by asking this of you 

your brows knit together in confusion, looking down at your necklace that you’ve been wearing for a couple of months now 

“What? Why? Do you not like it?” you ask worriedly, bringing your hands up to touch it 

he explains what happens to him when he gets near it, his eyes shining with sadness 

“Oh, why didn’t you just say so? Of course I can take it off,” you say as you go ahead and slip it off and place it in your pocket 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he reassures 

“I want to,” you reassure right back

Belphie:

so yeah, your necklace ended up saving your life 

when Belphie was released and turned out to be deceiving you this whole time, things went downwards really quickly 

when he moved to choke you, your necklace burned his hands

he pulled away in shock, giving his brothers time to jump in and save the day 

once everything was sorted out and he apologized, you two slowly became friends

he resented what he did and that necklace of yours

he’s sure that after what he did, you wouldn’t trust him enough to take off your necklace 

and for a while, it was true 

you would tense up around him, make excuses to leave, etc.

once you two got past that “hey, sorry I tried to kill you” stage though, things started smoothing out

when you two started to like each other though, he hated that necklace even more 

it got to a point where he wanted to cuddle and kiss you so bad but he didn’t have the confidence to ask you to take off the pendant 

luckily for him though, you took it off yourself 

“Where’s your necklace?” he asks curiously when you come up to hug him, his body instantly sensing the difference 

“I wanted to be able to hold you like this without you looking like you wanted to die,” you tease half playfully 

he blushes as he wraps his arms around you 

he never realized how transparent he was until now 

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[mintmatcha]

I want giggly cuddly sex with tadashi 🥺 where there’s no power dynamic just us two having a good time and wanting to make the other feel good :((

I combined these two little ditties into a fic!!! I hope you don’t mind!!!

CW: established relationship, praise, sex, fluff/smut. 

yamaguchi x reader 

(reader has a vagina- no pronouns or gendered language used)

first time

It's one of the pitfalls of a new relationship; everything the other person does is endearing. 

"I'm just saying, it's weird that the fourth movie is so good!" Yamaguchi digs his hand into the bowl on your lap, picking through the entire bowl to scrape at the popcorn kernels. He tosses the bits into his mouth and chews thoughtfully, cracking through each kernel loudly, before pausing to suck the excess salt off of his fingers. 

God, if anyone else did that, you'd probably be disgusted, or at the very least annoyed, but there's something about Yamaguchi that makes it unbearably endearing. Maybe it's the little shoulder dance he does every time he takes a bite. Maybe it's the way your heart skips a beat when his tongue swipes over his knuckle, catching a bit butter. "Name another series that has a good fourth movie. You can't. Scream 4 is one of a kind." 

He does it again, crunching through the kernels happily, tongue peeking out once again to wipe across his fingertips.

God, you wished he would lick you like that. 

"Tadashi, you're gonna break a tooth." you chide, even as you sink further into his lap. There was plenty of space on the couch, but you had somehow migrated to his lap sometime during the previous movie. The arm around your shoulder tightens, pulling you into a kiss on the cheek. It's greasy with butter residue, but somehow it still makes your heart flutter. 

Fuck. Only 3 months into the relationship and you were wrapped around his finger, watching movies that you didn’t have any interest in. Any little annoyance was forgotten as soon as he flashed you that freckled smile. Every little nuance you discovered made you fall deeper into .... like.

Not love. Like. You weren't ready to admit to the 'love' word quite yet, but it was getting closer. You had been 'in like' with Yamaguchi since shortly after he moved into the cubicle next to yours.  Maybe it had been the way he always remembered to grab you an extra sugar packet for your coffee, or the way he laughed at whatever podcast he was listening to that day, or the way he silently procrastinated at the end of the day so you could walk to bus together: whatever it was that won you over didn’t matter, what did matter was that Yamaguchi made you feel happier than anyone else.  It felt natural to be with him, to be held by him, to be ‘liked’ by him.

...Your only complaint was the pacing. One of the best and worst things about the two of you was that you were both polite, constantly dancing around unsaid boundaries, trying overly hard to respect each other, avoiding any situation that could possibly make the other one uncomfortable. Which meant your physical relationship was nothing more than the occasional kiss.

Honestly, you were beginning to think he didn't want to. His hands never wandered, his texts never turned dirty, and you certainly never initiated anything. It felt like there was never an opportunity to start anything; even now, sitting on his lap while wearing a sweatshirt he had left at your apartment weeks ago, it felt wrong to interrupt a wholesome moment.

Not that you didn't want to. God. You wanted to.

"You know,  I don't think anyone's ever worn my hoodie before." he comments, eyes never leaving the television. He’s enthralled with this stupid movie, even though he had seen it 'dozens of times.'

"Really? I’ve been wearing it as a shirt. " you grab at the fabric, "Do you want me to take it off? "

"Yeah, sure." he responds blankly, attention still glued to the movie. Then, he seemingly realizes what he said, face immediately erupting into a furious blush. He's quick to separate for you, almost spilling the entire bowl on the ground. You mirror him, unsure if you should laugh at his panic or cringe. "No! Do not take your shirt off! I do not want that!" 

"Tadashi. Calm down." You laugh, even as disappointment settles in the back of your throat. Does... does he really not want to see you undressed? Is this why you guys having had sex yet? Did he just see you as a friend? For his comfort and not your own, you inch farther away, back against the opposite arm as him. "It's fine, I get it."

"No, I-" he takes a moment to settle himself, "You look phenomenal with my hoodie on, I just, I don't want you to take your shirt off unless you want to, because it’s totally something I want. I think about it-" he pauses mid sentence, ears burning so red that his freckles seem to disappear, " I mean, if- I'm not like that- if you're not ready- that's not why I invited you over. I'm not expecting anything." 

He gives a nervous chuckle, widening the distance between the two of you more. You let his words sit, only the sound of the movie in the air. 

"So." you begin slowly. "You think about me without a shirt on?"

“I mean, of course.” He is acutely aware of the edge of the couch, his body teetering at the brink, but he bares it. "Can I tell you something? You can't laugh at me. Or think I'm a pervert." 

"I can't promise that. Are you, like.... sniffing my underwear or something?" you joke, a grin sneaking across your face.

He snorts and shakes his head almost violently. 

"Okay, no! Now the real thing doesn't sound as pervy." he adjusts only slightly, his shoulders unbunching themselves. Most of the tension in the air has melted away. That's what was so great about Yamaguchi; even when things turned awkward, they quickly returned to normal. "Do you remember that time Yakki split that water all over you?"

You roll your eyes at the memory. "Of course."

"And you had that little white blouse on?" he swallows, "My productivity at work dropped about 50% that day. It was so bad that the boss scolded me." 

"Yeah, because you were too busy worrying about me catching a cold!" you say, "You even gave me your jacket!" 

"No, I gave you my jacket because your shirt was see-through.” he admits, “My productivity dropped because all I could think about was how I wanted to take you and that little see-through shirt into the storage closet."  

Oh God. This is it. This is the opportunity. 

You lean forward with a tilt of your head, the gapping neck of the shirt falling forward past your collarbone. His eyes are glued to the neckline, tracing over the hint of skin, silently begging for more. You tuck your knees up under you and begin to crawl, only half convinced that this is sexy.  The closer you get, the more he can see down your shirt. His breath hitches slightly at the sight, but he doesn't dare to look away.

"Oh? What were you thinking about doing to me in that storage closet?" Yamaguchi lets his legs fall apart and, hesitantly, you place a hand between his knees, fingertips grazing the grey cotton of his sweatpants. The band of his bright red underwear peeks out from under his shirt and, without thinking, you trace over it with a pad of your finger. At the touch, he leans forward, lips tickling the shell of your ear as he speaks. Your heart is thrumming in your eardrum, so hard you can barely hear what he's saying. 

"First, I would have ripped that wet little shirt off, button by button." he chuckles, reaching to tuck a tendril of hair behind your ear. Your pussy clenches at the low rumble of his voice, so hard you feel like your stomach is cramping. "Then, I-"

A scream cuts through the room. The both of you jump forward into each other, knocking your skull against his jaw. Almost in unison, you both reel back: you clutching your ear, him clutching his lip.  The bowl spills across your laps, scattering popcorn all over the couch and floor as you both frantically search for the source of the noise. The dramatic music of the movie drums through you as some damsel in distress is running across the screen, screaming for help.

One beat. Two beats. 

Then, you laugh. It's one from the belly, that makes your gut ache from effort. You're trying to reach for Yamaguchi, make sure he's okay, but your eyes are watering, and your whole body shaking.  He's giggling too, still covering his lip. 

"The movie scared me!" you explain through tears. He nods in agreement, gesturing to the mess across his lap, including a huge butter stain across his crotch. It's not a funny moment, not when both of you are aching, but an intangible something has you both snorting and sobbing through giggles. The moment is way too long, way past the point of any humor, but Yamaguchi's snickering feeds into yours. 

Finally,  Yamaguchi manages to collect himself, scrunching his lips into a straight line. The corners of his mouth twitch upwards and you dissolve into giggles once again.

"I want to fuck you so bad right now." he breathes. His directness surprises you. "But not on top of the popcorn." 

You pull a deep breath, trying to center yourself. "We could move?"

"My roommate is going to kill me when he comes home to this mess." he says, but he stands anyway. You follow and his hand finds the small of your back, pulling you into him softly. He presses a kiss against your lips, warm and gentle, and then pulls back with a grimace. 

"I think you bruised me.” he touches his lower lip gingerly, as if testing it. 

“I’m sorry, we don’t-” he silences you with another kiss and now you can feel the swollen corner of his mouth, gritted slightly with salt. He clutches on to your top as he steps backwards, dragging you along with him so the kiss doesn’t break. Each step is rocky and unsure (you barely miss colliding into the wall) but you stay embraced, your hands clutching into his dark locks, partially to keep your balance as blindly follow. His hands trace up under your shirt, thumbs digging into the soft of your hips, pulling you flush against him, forcing you deeper and deeper into him until-

“Oh, shit.” he breaks away suddenly, pushing you back slightly. “I- my room- I need you to stay here.” 

“What are you talking about?”

“My room’s a mess, I really didn’t expect that you would- that we-” he shakes his head. “Gimme 30 seconds- please. I don’t want you to see me like this.”

You don’t object as he scuttles away, clicking the door firmly closed behind him. You can hear the muffled sounds of drawers slamming and objects being tossed about as you wait. It feels like you have been standing there, starting at the generic art hanging in the hall, for ages. It’s much longer than 30 seconds, but not quite the eternity it feels like.

The door creaks open and your favorite freckled face peeks out.  “Hi.” 

“Hi.” you repeat. Somehow, every amount of tension had returned in the scant amount of time you had been apart. Both of you knew what you wanted to do, but, the knowledge seemed heavy. It was an explored territory, sleeping with someone new. No matter what your past relationships were, each new experience with a new person (especially a new person you CARE about) brought its own pitfalls and challenges. It seems so serious, so scary, until you tear your eyes away from the floor and actually look your boyfriend in the eyes.

"Did you just brush your teeth?" you reach out and brush a little bit of white foam from the corner of his mouth with your thumb. He leans into your palm with a smile.

"I didn't want to taste like popcorn." he says and you can't help but laugh as he leads you into the room. It’s his brand of organized chaos; there’s clothes peeking out from the closet, miscellaneous knick knacks on the nightstand (including a still foamy toothbrush) and half hung posters across the walls. . You break away to sit on the bed, tracing over the pattern of the bedspread. 

“I like this.” you comment, “Very nice.” 

He nods, frozen in the doorway. Slowly, he reaches up to the lightswitch and flicks the light off. The darkness feels heavy with anticipation and worry as he pads around to the other side of the bed. He feels it too, you decide, as you watch his adam’s apple bob in the low light, this insane mixture of pressure and excitement.

For Yamaguchi, it’s the thoughts that usually plague his mind at night that grate away his confidence. The dreams of your skin between his fingers, your taste on his lips, are so close to reality, but he can't bring himself to make the first move. Even in the low light, he can see the curve of your waist, slowly contracting with every exhale. His own breathing matches your pace and, for some odd reason, that realization makes his chest burn with longing.

"I'm not expecting anything. If you don't want to." he reiterates as he lies down. How pathetic, he thinks. He really wasn't expecting anything, but, god, was he thinking about it. He'd been thinking about it since the first time he had seen you from across the If he could just reach out, just grab your collar and pull you to him, he could finally-

"Tadashi." his skin jumps at the sound of your voice and the sound of you shuffling, laying across the mattress. It's enough to knock him out of his thoughts and back into reality. He swallows back the tightness in his throat as he inches closer to you, his knees brushing against yours. He feels the gravity of the mattress shift as you shuffle closer and closer, until you're within inches of him.  You're almost face to face now, close enough that he can feel the way your breathing picks up as his hand finds your shoulder. You hum at the contact; he's warm. Even through the thick cotton, his skin is unusually hot against you. 

"You're like a little space heater." you whisper. Yamaguchi blinks, thinking, before his lips peel into a smile.

"Is that a good thing?" He doesn't wait for an answer.  He squeezes gently and you let him pull you forward, nose pressed against nose, hip against hip. His own shoulders shake with a silent laugh and you can't help but join him. It's something about the novelty of the situation, the joy in doing something new, breaking an unspoken boundary, that makes you laugh. You both dissolve into giggles, shifting closer and closer until you're laughing in each other's arms, fully pressed against each other. Even through your sweatpants you can feel the suggestion of his cock pressed against you, heavy against his thigh.

" ’Dashi." you whisper into the thin space between you. 

"I- Yeah?" he lets out a shaking breath. You take his hand and guide it to your chest, his fingers immediately cupping the flesh, massaging the flesh with a surprisingly steady touch. The way he sucks in air, fast, surprised, and hungry, sends heat pooling to your core.

"There's no popcorn here." you joke, "If you wanna fuck me." 

It's enough to break through his anxiety and he's against you again, this time with no laughter to keep your lips apart. His mouth finds yours, hungrily catching your lower lip between his teeth, tugging it ever so slowly. The sharpness makes you gasp and he uses the opportunity to kiss you deeper, tongue against yours. He tastes like his brand of toothpaste- soft and sweet mint. It's unexpectedly hungry, unexpectedly rough. 

The kiss doesn't break as he rolls over on to you, pressing your back into the down of his bed. His heart is already racing, battering against his ribs, as he continues tugging and teasing your breast, but he can't find it in himself to slow down. His free hand pushes up the hem of your shirt (his hoodie) to expose your chest. The kiss ends as he pulls away, forcing the short in-between your teeth, holding it up to give him free reign of your body. His head dips to join his hand, breath hot against your nipple. The cloth muffles your moan, but not enough to hide it from your lover.

He pauses, mouth open and tongue lulled out of his mouth, gazing up at you through his eyelashes. "Is this okay?" he's not touching you, but you can feel the low vibrations of his whisper against your skin.

"Yes, please." you whine through the sweatshirt, wrapping your hands into his hair. "Please, Please."

His tongue traces over your nipple delicately before he pulls back,  just far enough to watch it pebble under his touch.  He returns to work, clamping down and sucking, leaving the dull pain of a blossoming bruise behind. Your hips rut up into nothing, looking for any sort of friction.

He continues like this, leaving scattered marks across your skin as he worships you. Yamaguchi seems so content, just learning the scape of your body, but the building tension in your core is wearing thin.

Trailing touches down his body, you slipped your hands under the band of his sweatpants, gripping him through his boxers. Yamaguchi breaks, resting his forehead against your collar bone with a swallowed groan, as your fingers trace around the crown of his cock. Unwilling, he bucks into your light touch, dragging his length through your grasp. You tighten your fingers as he continues fucking himself against your palm, his own hands drifting to grasp your hips, pushing down your shorts just a fingers-length. Finger pads traced against the newly exposed skin, dipping lower and lower until tracing over the lace of your underwear.

"Wow." he breathes, lifting his head up to press a kiss against your chin. "Lift your hips for me, beautiful." 

You comply, letting him peel off your shorts and underwear in one pull. The cool night air made you shiver, but his warm hands soon returned to explore the newly exposed skin. 

"Oh, you're so..." his hand dips in between your legs, dragging a digit through your folds. The sound of your slick against his fingers makes his cock pulse in your grasp. He leaves his thought unfinished as he starts circling your clit with a steady touch. The pressure sends you keening, hips rolling into his touch eagerly, but he remains steady, patient.

He's building you up embarrassingly fast, leaving you sweaty and panting under his touch. Just as your legs start shaking, your body right on the brink, he withdraws. His tongue darts out to wipe away your fluids from his hand and he groans at the taste, eyes fluttering. 

"I'm sorry, beautiful. You can't  cum until I'm inside you." he whispers, sitting up to peel off his shirt. Clusters of freckles dapple his shoulders and it's all you can watch as he scrambles away to the nightstand drawer.  He returns a moment later, eager tearing through the tin foil packet with his teeth.

"Tadashi! Be careful!" you scold as you throw the blankets aside.

"It's not ripped!" he says, grabbing the bunched up shorts from the crook of your knee and tugging it completely off, dragging you a couple inches down the mattress with them. He tosses them aside as he pulls off his own; even though you just had your hand around it, the sight of his cock makes you anxious. It's thick, much thicker than you anticipated, and around leaking, a bead of precum catching at little light in the room.

As he begins rolling the condom on, you peel off your top and Yamaguchi's mouth falls open, eyes darting around the entirety of your body.

"Holy. You-" he sighs happily. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen." He surges forward, pressing you down into the mattress once again. His mouth is against yours, swallowing your whines. His hands are at the small of you back again. but now it's about but pure. He's forcefully angling your hips back and forth against his cock, dragging your clit against his spongy head and spreading your wetness against the plastic film. 

"I can't believe I get to fuck you." he says in between kisses. Yamaguchi continues to fuck your folds, his calm pace finally losing it's rhythm. "I can't believe I get to play with this perfect pussy. Can't wait to see you cum around my cock." With a trembling hand, he reaches down and presses his tip against your entrance, hesitating before sinking just the head inside you. The pop of his cockhead entering your cunt makes both of you gasp in unison- and another wave of giggles over takes the both of you.  As he dips down onto his elbows, eyes screwed shut, he doesn't make a move for a long moment, the only sound in the room is his steady breathing.

"I'm sorry, I'm just-." he presses a kiss against your neck, another laugh bubbling up, "You just- ah, you're so pretty. I can't believe this is real." 

Your hand catches his jaw, pulling his face up into yours. Your thumb traces over his cheek, tracing over the subtle dimpling of his pock marks. The freckles scattered across his cheeks, the crinkle at the corners of his eyes as he smiles- he's the beautiful one here. At your touch, he pushes further into you, steadily feeding your tight whole inch by inch, watching the way your mouth gapes and twists at the pressure. Once he's fully seated in you, he pauses, watching your chest move with each breath. 

"Dashi," you whine, hooking your ankles together around his waist, "You're so thick." 

"I know, you're doing such a good job." he presses a kiss against your forehead as he begins rolling his hips against you. Each thrust is rough, your hips angled up for him to sink his full length into you. "Keep being good for me, baby." 

With an unexpected strength, he tugs you closer, lifting your hips off the bed. Each stroke is steady, pumping his entire length in and out of you at a tantalizingly slow pace. His name falls out of your mouth like a prayer, begging for more, but he doesn’t oblige. It stays sinfully slow, building you up in a controlled burn. Each kiss, highlighted by the mingling of your hot breaths, is further raking the coals. 

“Is my pretty baby gonna cum for me? Look how great you’re taking me.” he groans.  He’s praising you blindly now, neither of you sure of exactly what he’s saying, all of his attention focused on grinding into you.

Your back arches further, and you’re seeing stars as he fucks you just right. You can barely keep your vision focused on him, those grey eyes clouded with concentration Your orgasm knocks the breath out of your lungs and you come undone with a strangled laugh, fisting the sheets desperately. The way you clench down around him makes his hips finally stutter, a hiss escaping his gritted teeth. Your chest is filled with a flurry of emotions as you sling your arms around his shoulders, unable to wipe away the goofy grin in your face. 

A few more snaps of his hips has him melting into you as he cums. He tucks his head under your jaw with a hum, dropping you on to the mattress. His hands find their way back to your chest, giving you a final squeeze.

"Fuck." he whispers into the soft of your neck as he withdraws. He's quick to peel off the condom and tie to off, discarding it off the side of the bed. Yamaguchi rolls onto his back, holding his arms open expectantly. "You're so hot when you laugh, you know that?" 

Curling into his arms, finding some sort of gross comfort in his sweaty warmth, you can't help but suppress another giggle.

"Hey, be careful. Keep laughing and we'll have to do that again." he grips your jaw, tilting your face towards him to capture you in a kiss. "Don't test me; I'll fuck you so hard you'll need a standing desk on Monday."

"Oh yeah?" you tease, your hand tracing down his chest, connecting his freckles. "Prove it."

"Oh, I will, come here-"

The distant sound of a door slamming catches your attention. "Yamaguchi, what the fuck?" a familiar voice echoes through the apartment. 

Yamaguchi shoots up, frantically searching for his pants in the sheets. "Fuck, I forgot about the popcorn!"

[bluejayblueskies]

i cannot stop thinking about tma hell's kitchen au

(@f0xesand0wls thank you for enabling me)

- elias is the head chef, and peter and gertrude are his sous chefs. there are 20 total chefs in the competition: red team: jon, tim, georgie, daisy, naomi, agnes, gerry, jordan, helen/michael, oliver blue team: martin, sasha, melanie, basira, mike, jude, julia, jared, jane, manuela

- the black jackets are jon, martin, tim, sasha, georgie, and melanie, and the finalists are jon and martin. the winner is probably martin, but it doesn't really matter, because the actual plot of this is a jonmartin rivals-to-friends-to-lovers slowburn

- annabelle is the one who puts all of the film and audio together at the end. jmart watch the show once it's put on television and go 'what the fuck i didn't say any of that' because that's how reality tv is babey

- martin is one of those chefs who does poorly at the beginning but gets better and ends up in the final two. even though he's not on the same team as jon, jon is like 'this guy sucks' and maybe martin messes something up for jon early on and jon decides he does not like martin.

- jon is so nervous that he's going to screw up and get sent home early (he doesn't have formal culinary training and feels deeply underqualified) so he's very stiff and overly professional at the beginning. he relaxes over time as he becomes more confident in his own cooking and as he does well at challenges and dinner services.

- somewhere around chapter/episode 5, martin tells jon that he doesn't have any formal culinary training and that he said he did in order to get into the restaurant job he had prior to coming on the show. he's been cooking for his mother since he was ten though, and jon surprises himself by saying that that's a lot more impressive than studying technique in france or something. that's the catalyst of their transition from rivals into friends

- somewhere around episode 8, jude (who got switched to the red team a few episodes prior) gets eliminated, but on the dinner service before she does, there's an incident in the kitchen and jon's hand gets burnt pretty badly (not so badly that he has to go home, and he fights through the rest of dinner service because of course he does). he insists he doesn't have to go to the hospital for it, and elias reluctantly agrees and has the medic look at it. in the dorms later, martin helps jon unwrap it and put more burn cream on it and change the bandages and... yeah <3

- daisy and jon do not get along at first, and daisy actually tries to sabotage jon early in the season/fic. jon nearly gets eliminated because of it and he is not happy. then, a good few episodes later, the red team wins a challenge and they go on some sort of outdoorsy award and something happens and jon saves daisy from getting seriously injured. they're on better terms after that.

- when jon, tim, sasha, martin, melanie, and georgie get black jackets, elias (like every actual season of hell's kitchen) brings their family members/friends in for them to see. jon gets his grandmother, tim his brother, sasha her mother, georgie her best friend alex, and melanie some of her ghosthunt uk (the restaurant) friends. the only person martin has is his mother, and they tell him that she was too sick to come, but he can't shake the feeling that she just didn't want to. she didn't even agree to make him a video. it's a very awkward affair, and after the challenge (which tim wins) jon stands by martin while they're... idk, peeling 200 pounds of potatoes or something and they talk about it and they talk about a lot of their personal lives. for most of the competition, they're very aware that they're on camera at all times, but jon decides that being there for martin is more important than worrying about that.

- jon wins the next black jacket challenge and, when asked who he wants to invite on the reward, invites martin. they get to go wine tasting in a beautiful vinyard together and then they get some time to sit in the vinyard and just relax. martin probably realized he had a crush on jon around... episode/chapter 8? pretty soon after his admission that he doesn't have formal training. this episode is when jon realizes that he has a crush on martin, and the wine tasting suddenly seems very romantic and he gets very flustered. martin just thinks he's getting nervous since they're getting closer to the end of the competition.

- it's martin and jon in the finals. martin has tim, melanie, basira, and agnes on his bridage and jon has sasha, georgie, daisy, and gerry. in the middle of the entrees, something goes very wrong in martin's kitchen (not because of martin, because agnes burns like... ten racks of lamb or something ridiculous like that) and it looks like martin might not even be able to finish and he's freaking out just a little bit, so jon does something incredibly stupid and tells sasha to take charge of the kitchen for a moment and goes over into the other kitchen and pulls martin aside and takes martin's hands in his and is like 'it's okay, you're okay, everything's going to be okay. you're extremely talented and an amazing chef and an amazing person and i love you and this is not your fault and you're going to go back out there and get things back on track.'

jon goes back to his kitchen, elias yelling at him the whole way, and martin kicks agnes out and gets his kitchen back under control and they have no other issues that night. and martin's brain completely skips over the 'i love you' until the end of service, when the adrenaline wears off and they start to clear down and jon gives him this smile and suddenly martin remembers and he's like 'oh fuck'

but jon doesn't say anything about it so martin assumes he hadn't meant to say it, because of course he didn't, because they're competing for a job and $250,000 and he probably just heard jon wrong or something. jon probably said 'i love your cooking' and martin's just being stupid and letting his crush get away from him. so they both go back and sit in the dorms and wait for elias to call them up to his office. meanwhile, jon also remembers that he accidentally let i love you slip and he's having a bit of a crisis about it because on the one hand he meant it, but on the other hand he should not have said it then and martin hasn't said anything, so maybe he didn't even hear.

still, martin needs to thank jon. so he's eventually like 'thank you for what you did back there. i don't think i would have made it through service without what you said.' then, after a moment, because it is a competition: 'why did you help me? you could have let me drown and you'd have a secure win'

and jon just shrugs and says, 'because you needed help, and i... i care about you. i didn't want to see you fail. you are a good chef, martin, and i... i know you deserve this job just as much as me. you can go work at elias's restaurant and i can go back to mine and... and that'll be okay, if that's what happens'

and martin realizes suddenly that jon lives across the country from him normally and he doesn't know if he'll be able to see jon after this (chefs are busy people, after all, not a lot of time for family and such) and before he can really think about it he's like 'i wouldn't be okay with that' and then when jon just looks at him he clarifies, 'i... i don't want to just go back to living in [washington?], working all day and coming home to an empty apartment, and you'll go back to [new york?] and i... will i even see you again? because it's been so nice, being here, being with you, and i want to see you again, jon. every day.' he hesitates a moment, then decides fuck it, if i'm wrong, at least i'll only be embarrassed for a little while longer and says, 'what you said during service. did you mean it?'

and jon, tentatively, is like, 'that you're a good chef? yes, martin, i meant it, of course i did' and martin's like 'no, the... the other thing you said. right in the middle of it all. i- i don't know if i heard you right, and i just... i need to know if you meant it'

and it would be easy for jon to say no, to pretend like he didn't. but instead, he sits next to martin on the couch and takes martin's hand in his and nods and says, 'i... i've meant it for quite some time, i think' and he smiles at martin, a little bit shy, and martin's overwhelmed with affection and he reaches for jon's face, leans forward, and--

and the phone rings. unfortunately. because elias made a decision

- martin's door opens and jon's doesn't. jon thinks he should feel crushed, and he does feel disappointed, but mostly he's just so, so happy for martin. martin is stunned, and tim and sasha and georgie and melanie and basira and daisy are waiting for him below to congratulate him. martin's stuck in a round of thank yous when he turns and sees jon, who's run down the stairs to join the celebration and is looking at martin with those same eyes he would get when he was determined to win a challenge or finish a dish that needed two more minutes in one minute. and then jon just hugs martin, so tightly martin can barely breathe, and he mumbles into martin's neck, 'i would very much like to kiss you, but i very much do not want our first kiss to be on national television' and martin laughs and hugs jon tightly in return and mumbles back, 'i love you too, jon. just in case it wasn't obvious' and even though jon just lost, he's never been happier

- (they watch the show when it comes out together half a year later, in the little bit of free time they have around running their own respective restaurants, and they spend the whole time picking it apart

jon: okay i did not say that, where did they even get that from??

martin: god do i really look like that from behind...

jon: oh christ. martin, i- i think they thought i wanted to have sex with you. ugh, they've put on weird romantic music. red lighting. i hate this. i clearly did not--no, martin, don't give me that look, you know what i mean.

martin: wow, this makes us look like terrible chefs

and, at the end:

jon: christ, of course they were recording us in the dorms after the last service. this is a cooking competition, not a romance.

martin: eh, it was a bit of a romance.

jon: hush, i'm trying to watch. they're about to announce the winner. i don't have much hope for this chef martin; after all, he did burn that risotto back in episode 2--

martin, trying not to laugh while he glares at jon: oh my god jon let it go)

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

After All

Character: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Just because Bucky pushed her away doesn’t mean he knows how to let go.

Word Count: 2,100 - One Shot

She looked beautiful. Too beautiful. Bucky didn’t know why she put in such an effort for this schmuck. She didn’t need to put in any effort at all to be beautiful. And if some guy didn’t know that, then he didn’t deserve her. 

The bar had giant windows with no curtains or treatments to hide its patrons from outside observation. They did it on purpose, to hypnotize the people walking by and pull them into the romantic and dark lighting…and overpriced cocktails. 

But Bucky didn’t just notice how beautiful Y/N looked. He could also see how bored she was. Her smile was forced. He could almost hear exactly what her voice sounded like as she talked to him. Bucky would tease her about it, always knowing when she was being polite but wanted to find an out from a conversation as soon as possible. She called it her “customer service voice.”

She was probably smarter than him, Bucky thought. She was smarter than most people – maybe not Stark or Shuri, but she had her own genius that neither of those two possessed.

The only thing that could possibly make the people on the street notice Bucky’s lingering was the white vapor that appeared from his mouth every time he sighed. Which he seemed to be doing every time he noticed another piece of body language from Y/N that further proved her disinterest in this man.

It was cold, making everyone hurry to their destination, not paying him any mind. But Bucky didn’t feel the weather’s coldness anymore. Once you spend a lifetime frozen, nothing really compares.

Bucky stood up straighter when the two started making their way out of the fancy bar.

Y/N shifted her weight, not sure what the man’s next move was going to be.

He awkwardly went in for a hug.

She gave another one of her fake smiles, said her goodbyes, and started walking away.

“Not even gonna get her a cab or walk her home, you bastard?” Bucky breathed with irritation.

Men these days. Him and Steve still didn’t get it.

But he figured Y/N was glad to be done with him.

Bucky walked in the shadows of night as he kept his distance behind her. They were only a few avenues away from her apartment.

But he swore she was walking slower than usual. Like she was trying to make the journey home longer.

When they finally reached the stoop of her building, she took the steps slowly. But instead of putting her keys into the lock, she just stared at the door for a moment.

What was she thinking about? Bucky wondered.

Then Y/N quickly turned around and skipped down the stairs. She hurried across the street and made her way into the park that was directly across from her building.

She walked with more purpose now. Which made Bucky realize what was happening.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

He took in a deep breath before he followed her into the park.

Y/N sat on a bench in almost total darkness, waiting. If it weren’t for Bucky’s super-soldier sight, she would be practically invisible to him.

Bucky rubbed his face and watched her for a few moments before he made his way over.

Without any warning, he slowly sat down on the other side of the bench.

She didn’t react, didn’t even act like someone had invaded her space.

She had been waiting for him.

“What did I tell you about going to parks at night?” Bucky finally asked.

She scoffed, but didn’t look at him. “Yeah…Well, putting myself into danger is always the quickest way to get you out of hiding.”

She wasn’t wrong.

“He seemed nice.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Oh, fuck off, James.”

She’d stopped calling him Bucky once he broke her heart.

“Is this the part where you try to lie and tell me you liked him?” Bucky challenged with a smirk, even though there was absolutely nothing funny about the situation.

Y/N finally turned and looked at him for the first time. “What exactly are you mad about, James? That I went on a date with him or that I just went on any date at all?”

He was silent for a second. “He’s not good enough for you.”

“You’d say that about every man,” she challenged.

“Yeah, and I’d be damn right.”

Y/N shot up from the bench and turned to face him. “I’m trying!” She snapped.

Then she paused, trying to get her emotions in control. But she wasn’t successful since her eyes glazed over with tears. She managed to hold them in. “I’m really trying.”

Bucky then stood up from the bench. His body always went into a panic when Y/N cried. He felt sick to the stomach when he was the reason for it. But these days, he was always the reason..

But he couldn’t comfort her like he used to. He wasn’t allowed to touch her anymore.

Y/N sniffed, trying to play it off as if it was due to the cold instead of her unshed tears.

“You have to stop following me,” she told him as sternly as she could.

Bucky shifted his weight, but stayed quiet.

“James, I’m gonna call Steve if you keep doing this.”

And he knew she would. What he didn’t know is what Steve would do to make sure Y/N’s commands were followed through.

And it wasn’t just Steve who sided with her after the breakup, the whole team did. Any of them would love a chance to return to Y/N’s life in some way and give Bucky a piece of their mind on her behalf.

Breakup. Is that even what it should be called?

They didn’t stop loving each other. Even though Y/N hid that with the hate she now held for Bucky.

He didn’t think it was possible for someone to hate a person as much as they loved them, but Y/N seemed to do it effortlessly with him.

“We can’t do this anymore, Y/N. I have to stay away from you.” 

The words still haunted Bucky’s nightmares. All it took was one stupid article. Her full name, where she was from, what she did for work – all accompanied by a photo of them together. If it had been paparazzi, Bucky would’ve clocked the camera. His training would’ve sensed it, noticed the signs. But it had just been some asshole and their iPhone.

“How did you figure out I was tailing you?” He asked, ignoring the threat of Steve.

“Following,” she corrected. “You look like the fucking unabomber, James. You’re trying so hard to hide that you stick out even more.” She looked him up and down, taking in his black leather jacket over his black hoodie that was pulled over his black, nondescript baseball hat.

But in reality, she knew that if Bucky wanted to be completely untraceable, he would be. Which meant that he wanted her to notice him.

He didn’t realize he was doing that.

Y/N stared at the ground, scared to look into his eyes now. “I always think that I feel you watching me.” Then she glanced up at him. “But then I realized that was just me missing you.” She shook her head, embarrassed to be admitting that to him. “It wasn’t that I could feel you watching over me, it was me hoping you’d come around the next corner.”

“I miss you, too.” He admitted without hesitation.

Y/N closed her eyes and winced. “Don’t say that to me.”

“But it is true.”

Her eyes remained closed, but not even that could stop the tears from falling this time.

“Why do you have to make this so hard, Bucky?” She whispered.

The use of that name knocked the air out of his lungs.

He took a step toward her.

But she immediately took a step back. “Don’t. Please don’t, Bucky.”

“Y/N…I’m…I’m so sorry,” he muttered.

“How does this make anything better for us?” She breathed.

“I just…I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Well, I’m not!” She bawled. “Is that what you want to hear? That I’m miserable without you? That during all of these dates, I’m just comparing them to you? Is that what you want to hear? Is it?”

“No! For Christ – no, Y/N.”

“Then what do you want me to say?” She demanded.

“Nothing. You don’t owe me anything, Y/N. I know that.”

He stepped forward, it was a risk and he knew it. But she didn’t cower from him this time. Bucky slowly reached forward and wiped the tears from her cheek gently.

“I’ll never stop worrying about you. I get anxious, thinking about what could happen.”

“Well, I stopped being your responsibility when you broke up with me.” She knew that was her broken heart speaking, but she had to give it at least one round.

Bucky nodded, knowing he deserved that.

Y/N looked around her. “It’s been almost a year, Bucky. We can’t keep doing this.”

“I know,” he mumbled as he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the ground.

“We need to move on…if that’s even possible. We have to try either way.”

“I know,” Bucky repeated.

But he also knew he could never replace her. However, she deserved to fill the bleeding hole he left after he broke her heart.

“Goodnight, James.” She told him coldly.

He just nodded.

But she hadn’t moved yet.

Before she could change her mind, she stepped into him and Bucky immediately opened his arms to her. She buried her face into his shoulder. Her senses took him in, memorizing every detail. His cologne. The feel of his leather jacket that he’d broken in to perfectly mold around his body. His inhuman body heat.

Bucky did the same.

When Y/N pulled away, her eyes locked to his like those blue irises were magnets.

“You should get home now, doll,” he whispered as his gaze flickered to her lips. His hands were caressing her face now.

She just nodded, feeling the new tension.

Bucky leaned forward and placed a kiss on her forehead.

It took every ounce of strength she had to walk away. She wouldn’t let herself turn around and look back once she started walking. But she felt his eyes on her, watching to make sure she made it to her front door safely.

She knew he wouldn’t leave until he saw the light turn on in her bedroom.

Y/N counted to 1,000 before she allowed her crying to start again.

-----

Bucky turned the light on in the kitchen.

“Bucky…”

He had been dreading this. “What? What do you want, Steve?”

The other super soldier leaned in the doorway with his arms crossed. He was giving Bucky the look that no one wanted to get from Captain America. It was the look of disappointment.

“Y/N called.”

That was all Steve needed to say.

Bucky ignored him and poured himself a drink – vodka on the rocks. It was Nat’s hidden stash. But he’d deal with that tomorrow.

“You can’t push her away and then shove yourself back into her life whenever you feel like it. That’s not fair to her and you know it,” Steve warned.

Bucky threw the vodka back before he countered with, “You said you understood why I did it.”

“Yes, I understood it. I didn’t agree with it. And I definitely don’t agree with you continuing to torture Y/N and yourself.”

Bucky tried to pour himself another glass of vodka, but Steve ripped the bottle from his grasp.

“Are you even listening to me?” Steve growled.

“I stand by what I did!” Bucky shouted. “I did what had to be done! And I did it so she could be safe, so she could have a fucking life!”

He caught his breath and his hand rubbed across his face. “I know I shouldn’t go see her. I know that. But…But I’m only human, Steve. I can’t help it.”

Steve sighed, his sympathy now outweighing his anger.

He gripped Bucky’s shoulder. “I know, Buck.”

“I’ll stop. I promise. I owe her that at least.” Bucky bowed his head in shame.

“I’ll check on her. We all will.” They would do it so Bucky didn’t have to.

“Thank you, Steve.”

“Just get some sleep. OK, Buck?”

He nodded, even though he stopped really sleeping when she was no longer in his bed.

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

I wrote this about a month ago and obviously didn’t want to share it with how much everyone sucks on here. 

Figured I’d give this site a chance to redeem itself, but not getting my hopes up. 

I’m still on “hiatus” or whatever, and not really interacting with people on here. 

If you really miss me that much... One Shot – Masterlist

(Also, friendly reminder that just because a fic is old, doesn’t mean you can’t comment on it anymore.)

[skellebonez]

32. Are you aware of how much money you spent? Tang and Pigsy

go wild god of fanfic prompts, go wild

I WOULDN'T GO THAT FAR ANON JDFKLSJFAS But that's very sweet of you to say! And I couldn't pass up a great chance to write these two as the old (but not that old) married couple I know them to be in my heart. I tried something a little experimental, this isn't exactly how I would normally write them but I had a little idea and wanted to see what I could do with it.

Are you aware of how much money you spent? 

Tang loved Pigsy. And he wasn't afraid of who knew that fact.

"You sure you wanna come with me to the market after... you know,” Pigsy said with a shrug as he rubbed his neck awkwardly.

Tang knew. He remembered the events of quite a few months ago very well. Over half a year if he remembered correctly. It was the last time he had gone with the chef to purchase his ingredients at the market, not wanting to go anywhere close to what was likely still far too close to the lair of the Spider Queen.

Especially not after their later encounters on the new year and the following weeks.

“I’m sure.”

It wasn’t as if they didn’t spend pretty much all their time together anyway. Tang had work, of course he did, and he wasn’t always in the shop 24/7. But whenever he could take his work on the go or take a break or just have the day off he would be by the chef’s side. He always had been for as long as he could remember since their first meeting in college.

At first it was simply from a sense of loyalty to an old friend. He’d kept in touch with Pigsy since they had graduated together, went to the restaurant from day one since it opened, and went back almost every day since then.

And then... he’d lost his apartment, an accidental electrical fire no one could have prevented and he had been glad no one was hurt, and Pigsy had just offered him his spare room like it was nothing.

Tang could have possibly stayed in a hotel until he was able to find another apartment, at least for a while. But not forever. Not the way people who knew who he really was thought he could.

Once someone learned you were the descendant of a long distant cousin of the Tang Sanzang they had a tendency to assume and want things from you after all.

He wasn't in any way rich, far from it. But people thought he was the second they learned he was related to Tang Sanzang and he was just well off enough for people to assume they were right. Just enough for people to expect more from him than he could really give. And he gave all the same, scared to disappoint. Scared to be left alone. Scared to be alone.

Not Pigsy, though. He didn't tell the chef for a long while before moving in and not for quite some time after, guilt from not revealing who he was making Tang leave him far more money than would be his reasonable share of the rent despite the fact he didn't really have it to spare, and the charade would only last as long as Pigsy was willing to ignore that.

It took 1 month and 28 bowls of noodles that Tang vastly overpaid for before Pigsy dropped an overstuffed envelope with all the excess money (which was really nearly all the money he could spare) he had given the chef right into his lap while he was attempting to study a book on their now shared couch.

Pigsy barely got out his question of "why?" before Tang buckled under the pressure and revealed everything.

His heritage.

His past with others.

His feelings.

That last one had been an accident. Truly it had. He'd never planned on telling Pigsy that he had developed a crush on him ever since he had asked him to taste test some of the recipes for his shop. That he kept going to the shop not because the food was amazing (even though it absolutely was, the best he'd ever had and he was certain ever would have) but because he just wanted to see Pigsy more. That the day he'd asked Tang to move into his spare room in his own apartment his heart had skipped a beat and he wondered if there was a deity out there both enjoying the idea of giving him everything he wanted on a silver platter while also reveling in the idea of it being snatched away in an instant because he was certain Pigsy had never liked him back.

Well. Was certain.

Until Pigsy stared at him for a few second too long before a lopsided grin spread on his face and he ignored every single other part of his confession to ask "you had a crush on me too?"

It had taken a minute or two for them to realize they were both hopeless idiots who had been mutually pining for each other the entire time.

They felt pretty silly after that, having lived together for a month when they probably could have been doing so long before.

~

"You don't have to keep givin me all this, you know," Pigsy said firmly once everything was out in the open, gesturing to the envelope that Tang now held in his hands.

"I know," Tang admitted, worrying his fingers over the edges. "It's just... everyone else always wanted more from me and... I was scared, I guess..."

"I'm not everyone else." Pigsy gently took hold of Tang's hand, giving it a careful squeeze. "I don't care who your great uncle or cousin or whoever was. I mean, I do, cause they're your family!" The chef corrected himself, flushing a deep crimson in embarrassment. "But you could be related to nobodies or a king and that wouldn't make you less you to me. I like you for you! I... am I makin any sense? I didn't go to college to sound nice, I went for business stuff!"

Laughter bubbled up from somewhere in Tang's chest, making him squeeze the chef's hand back.

"You are," he said, feeling a lightness inside him that he didn't realize he hadn't felt in a long time. "I get it. I like you for you too, Pigsy."

"Good," the chef said, a chuckle of his own resounding in unison. "Good..."

The two sat for a moment longer, staring at each other before Tang started to lean forward. Pigsy followed, just as he had with the laughter.

It didn't take long for noses to bump each other awkwardly and for the two of them to burst into cackles as they realized they would need to remember to turn their heads before they kissed.

And then they shared their first.

~

They'd been together for years after that. Scholar and chef, old college buddies now roommates turned boyfriends and then later husbands. Most people didn't even know they were married at all, "if they couldn't see it when it was right in front of their faces why explain it" was Tang and Pigsy's mutual reasoning. And for those that did know, some people didn't really understand their relationship. Not with how they carried on with the whole "freeloader" thing.

But that was because of one of Pigsy's only requests when they started dating.

"Don't feel like you gotta pay me for anything, ok? I don't know what other people have said to you, but you don't gotta do that with me."

Tang liked to take that a little far, admittedly, for the fun of it with the noodle orders at the shop. He couldn't help it, he loved everything about Pigsy! His smile, how much he cared behind his gruff exterior, his cooking (obviously), and how cute he was when he would let out that exasperated sigh at the end of the month and just look at Tang's tab as he took out whatever was extra in his half of the month's rent to pay for all but a few yuan of it and just change into that soft smile all over again.

The tab was real, but Tang always paid it at the end of the month. Even if Pigsy always insisted behind the scenes that he didn't have to. He could just stop giving Pigsy the extra cash and they'd wash their hands of the tab and the freeloading completely if he wanted to.

But Tang liked teasing his husband too much and Pigsy was happy as long as Tang was alright with that.

Something in the back of Tang's mind wondered if he was still just scared though, despite everything. As if the ideas of his youth were too deep seated to really go away, intrusive thoughts needling into his brain in a way that would need something even more life altering than he already gone through to get them to leave, and he kept the tab and the teasing around just for some extra security so he would know he'd get to see Pigsy's exasperated smile and hear him say he could stop again. He was certain he was just overthinking things, something he did more often than he would like to admit.

Of course... that was until Spider Queen.

It hadn't been a good morning already, the selection at the market had been poor and Tang was tired from a long work week. Pigsy had been determined to find the right ingredients for... something that, frankly, Tang couldn't remember after all these months. What he did remember was the way the Spider Queen drew Pigsy in, despite his sniping at him while they were tied up he knew that the chef really was only after actual vegetable, and being in that lair.

It was awful.

They hadn't been down there long, but it was long enough for Tang to suggest Pigsy stay away from the market entirely and order his food via online delivery. Pigsy thought he'd been jealous at first, until he realized that Tang was just... scared. Scared of Pigsy getting hurt, scared of losing him. Just scared.

Until MK had shown up there really was no telling if they would have made it out. And that scared Tang. A lot.

Pigsy didn't stop going to the market entirely, but for Tang's peace of mind he bought most of his food via delivery like he suggested and took MK with him every time instead. Tang refused to go back, not when he knew how close that stand was.

And then the Lunar New Year happened and Tang no longer really felt safe anywhere.

Oh he acted like everything was fine alright, but he knew Pigsy could tell how defeated he was in knowing that Spider Queen and her crew could just show up anywhere at any time now. It left him tired, having trouble sleeping, and just emotionally exhausted.

Until this morning. When he woke up before Pigsy and got dressed and ready to go and suggested they go to the market together.

He was tired. Too tired.

Tired of letting himself be afraid. Of Spider Queen. Of the market. Of his old intrusive thoughts.

After all he had used a giant gun sword on that one spider guy with the pony tail who insisted on teasing Pigsy for some reason. And went through whatever happened with that weird shadow puppet guy. Why be afraid anymore after all that weirdness?

So at the market they were, looking over the selection of ingredients together for the first time in months almost as if nothing had happened. No one would have been able to tell except for the way Pigsy kept looking over at Tang to make sure he was alright.

Tang loved that about Pigsy too.

“Tang you don’t have t-”

“I want to,” the scholar said firmly, handing his card to the merchant they had stopped at over Pigsy’s head before the other even had a chance to argue further.

“Tang!” Pigsy yelped as his card was handed back, gesturing to the bag of food he was being handed shortly after. “Are you aware of how much money you spent? That stuff’s expensive!”

“I know,” Tang said nonchalantly, smiling softly as he turned to head to the next stall. “I told you, I wanted to buy them.”

“But why?” Pigsy insisted, looking a bit lost at having to be the one to follow someone else through the market for once. “You know I’d never make you pay for anything... well, heh, except your tab that you insist on keeping open.”

“About that" Tang said, smiling softly as he turned back to the man he loved for so long. "I don't think we need to keep that open anymore."

Pigsy froze, staring at Tang in confusion for a moment before his eyes widened as he realized what he'd just said. He blinked, looking at the bag of ingredients, thinking about the amount of yuan Tang had spent before he finally caught on to what the scholar had so sneakily done.

The exact amount down to the last little bit.

Paid in full.

"You're serious," The chef said as he took in Tang's expression carefully, reaching out to grab his free hand softly and squeeze. "What brought this on?"

"Just thought it was time to let go of old fears," Tang answered with a shrug, and he barely had time to react before Pigsy tugged him forward with a tilt of his head and pressed their lips together.

Tang didn't keep count of how many times they kissed over the years, who would after so long, but he was sure he'd remember this one as vividly as the first.

"Let's get back," Pigsy said after he pulled back, smiling warm and bright and just looking the way being home felt. "MK's probably waiting to get that out of the city training started and we don't wanna keep them all waiting."

He loved Pigsy.

And the one thing he was never ever afraid of was who knew that.

[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

Zuko sometimes thought of his reciprocal scar as penance, that which bound him to the Avatar.

(Written for Day 2 of Zukaang Week 2021: Soulmates, hosted by @zukaangweek​. Read rise above the hurt on AO3 or continue reading below.)

To say Zuko had a complicated relationship with scars was… an understatement. The one he bore clawed across his face by his father’s hand had been a mark of shame for an incalculable number of years, and even now there were days where he’d rather shatter a mirror with a well-placed punch than stare a second longer at his reflection.

But Zuko refrained. He and the glass remained whole.

Zuko found he didn’t mind the scar on his chest quite so much. At least not in comparison. It was a reminder of his arrogance, maybe, sniping at Azula for her lack of lightning, but it was not a mark of callous cruelty towards a child. More than that, though, the scar across his chest served as a unique connection to the most important person in Zuko’s life.

An imperfect match.

“Ready?” Aang asked, and Zuko nodded. They’d been working on this technique for weeks—all that remained now was to at last put it to the test.

As if summoned, lightning splintered down from the sky and raced towards them. Zuko was the nearer target, so he raised his arm to intercept it, pulling the electricity through his body and down into his stomach before letting it escape through the fingertips of his other hand. Just as they’d practiced, Aang caught it from him. Zuko was left to do nothing more than watch, enraptured, as his partner redirected the lightning with more elegance than he could ever hope to possess, sending the energy crackling back into the sky.

Aang dropped out of the stance, giving Zuko an excited smile. “Well. Now we know it works.”

Zuko stepped forward, pressing a kiss to the tip of Aang’s nose. “We do.”

They took shelter from the storm in a cave further down the mountain, setting up a makeshift camp inside as they waited for the dreary weather to pass. They laid their robes across flat stones near the small, not quite smoldering fire Zuko had lit to help the fabric dry faster. Of course, Zuko knew that Aang could have easily airbended their clothes dry, but then neither of them would have had an excuse to see the other shirtless.

Zuko began tracing Aang’s scar on his back before he knew what he was doing. Once he realized, though, he couldn’t bring himself to stop, even after Aang’s shoulders stiffened for the briefest of seconds. But Aang’s shoulders soon fell, and he hummed at Zuko’s gentle touch. Zuko took that as a sign of approval.

Perhaps Aang’s scar could be considered born of Zuko’s arrogance, too, a result of his foolhardy, harsh certainty that his father’s appreciation would heal his shame. Zuko knew better, now. He understood true forgiveness, how it was both earned and freely given. But his understanding didn’t change the fact that Aang had died all those years ago.

Zuko sometimes thought of his reciprocal scar as penance, that which bound him to the Avatar.

Of course, Zuko would argue he was bound to Aang in more ways than just the one mark, now, as he leaned down to place a chaste kiss in the center of Aang’s scar. Aang shivered, and Zuko smirked. He wasn’t quite the arrogant fool he used to be, but there were certain matters he still allowed himself to be a cocky bastard about. His affection towards Aang was one of them.

Aang turned around, placing his right palm atop Zuko’s own lightning scar. The tips of his fingers traced the edge with feather-like softness. “Do you ever think about how we got our scars in the same way?” he asked, his tone indicating long, careful contemplation of the subject.

“No,” Zuko lied.

Aang laughed. “Right. That means you think about it all the time, then.” He removed his hand, and Zuko’s chest immediately mourned the loss of Aang’s warm, tender touch. But Aang turned around to lean his back against Zuko’s chest, their scars lining up to near perfection, and Zuko decided he much preferred this type of embrace. He wrapped his arms around Aang, pressing a kiss to the nape of his partner’s neck.

After a moment, Aang asked, “Do they still believe in soulmarks in the Fire Nation?”

Zuko frowned, tilting his head in puzzlement. He’d heard the term ‘soulmate’ thrown around in casual conversation once or twice before, but soulmark? “No, I don’t think so. Not that I know about.”

“I had a feeling you wouldn’t. Kuzon always told me he had more friends at school who no longer believed in them than those who still did.”

Though Zuko suspected he already knew the answer, or at least had an inkling— “What are they?” he asked. “Soulmarks?”

Aang freed one of Zuko’s hands from around his waist to lace their fingers together, leaning further back into Zuko’s chest. “Just an old romantic legend from the Fire Nation, more or less. A rare few people, people who were fated to be together against all odds, would be born with identical marks in matching places on their bodies.”

Zuko chuckled. “Sounds like that would make a lot of people overthink their birthmarks.”

“Oh, you have no idea.” Zuko could see a wistful smile tug at Aang’s lips. “It was fun to pretend and to daydream about, though. Kuzon had a little mark right here”—the fingertips of Aang’s free hand grazed the spot above his left eyebrow—“and I think he was more disappointed than he let on that I didn’t have a matching one.”

Zuko could sympathize. The idea of having a soulmark with Aang made his heart flutter. But then again… they had the next best thing, didn’t they?

“Do our scars count?” he asked, not beating around the bush, and Aang chuckled.

“Well, we weren’t born with them.”

Fair.

“And they aren’t in identical spots on our bodies.”

Also true.

“Maybe not soulmarks, then,” Zuko conceded. He pressed another kiss to the nape of Aang’s neck. “But you acknowledged yourself that we got our scars the same way, and I think they line up too perfectly when I hold you like this to be a coincidence.”

Aang laughed again. “What, do you like the idea of being cosmically bound to me?”

Zuko flushed. “Maybe.”

Absolutely. Aang had all but stolen the words from his mouth. And once upon a time, Zuko would never have been able to confront such openness. Such vulnerability. Not to himself, much less to anyone else. The wound was too fresh, as it were. But now?

Well. Now he had Aang.

That made all the difference, didn’t it?

“Mm, you sure know how to flatter a guy.” Next thing Zuko knew, Aang had freed himself from Zuko’s arms and turned around in his lap to face Zuko directly. “Want to know what I like the reality of, though? No cosmic bonds required?”

Zuko’s heart skipped a beat as Aang’s right hand reached up to cup his face, thumb gently tracing over the hand-printed burn scar—as if it both was and was not there. “Tell me,” he said, mouth dry.

Aang smiled. “I like that we found each other despite the cosmos trying to keep us apart. I mean, a hundred years difference, fighting on opposite sides of a vicious war, all the shitty politics being shoved down our throats, and yet…” He shrugged. “We still found our way to each other. Against all odds.”

Zuko closed his eyes as Aang leaned in for a slow, deep kiss, the kind that filled Zuko’s chest with a warmth more satisfying than any fire he could ever hope to bend.

“We’re here now,” Aang whispered as he pulled away, and Zuko pressed their foreheads together.

“Yeah.” A smile tugged at his lips. “We are.”

They’d made it.

[rezzyromance]

Reader kisses Moreau for the first time and Moreau is just shocked, but happy-

You kiss Moreau for the first time

(None of you better make fun of this fish boy >:( . He deserves love too. I hope you enjoy!)

The walk to the reservoir was always a scary one. You and Lord Moreau had grown close. You met him after your village got raided by a pack of lycans. You managed to escape with a tiny and broken down boat. You let the water lead you, unsure of where your life may go from that point. You had made it to the reservoir where you stumbled and fell out of the boat into the freezing water. Since swimming wasn't a common past time amongst the village people, you had never learned how to swim. the temperature of the water didn't help either. The sudden commotion in the water had grabbed the attention of the fish-man who watched over and roamed the reservoir. He had to drag your unconscious body back to his shack where he surrounded you with warm blankets. Waking up to the sight of a mutated man wasn't the best for recovery, but from the moment you opened your eyes, he knew he had to keep you safe. And from that moment on you lived with him. His appearance was easy to get used to once you realized he was just a kind man with an unfortunate story.

You often didn't leave the reservoir. The only reason to leave was to visit the Duke and stock up on foods. That's why you were making today's trip to begin with. Moreau had run out of cheese and you also needed more food. Thankfully, the Duke didn't disappoint as the basket you had taken to help carry your new goodies was filled to the brim with enough food to last the month. You were so close. You could see the little shack you and Moreau shared. Suddenly, a noise caused the hair on your neck to stand. A bush beside you rustled and a familiar, almost hissing like noise, began to grow. You felt as if life was in slow motion once the disembodied noise's form showed from behind the bush. A lycan.

It lunged forward towards you, but you managed to dodge it. You gripped the basket tightly as you began to run. "Moreau! Help me!", you yelled out without a thought. You could see his hunch backed figure appear from the shack. He began to wave his arms in panic, unsure of what to do. He ran towards you as fast as he could. "Go away! Shoo!", he yelled as an attempt to ward off the beast. You could practically feel the creatures breath on the back of your neck as you continued to run. You were so close to what felt like safety when you suddenly felt your back grow hot as your flesh began to sting. It managed to slice into your back with it's nails, but didn't pursuers it's attack once it saw Moreau running in it's direction.

You had fallen into the snow. A potion of it stained red from your blood. "(Y/N)! Oh (Y/N) are you okay?!", he was frantically shaking as he towered over you. It's nails didn't dig as deep as it felt. With a little bit of care, your wounds would be nothing but future scars. "I'm fine Moreau. It's just a little cut.", you began to stand. It stung harshly, but you didn't want him to worry so you swallowed the pain and began to lift up the basket once again. "I'm so sorry! Oh this is all my fault!", he started to cover his face with his hands as his voice grew weak. "Moreau you did fine. You helped me and I'm okay.", you tried to reassure him as you grit your teeth slightly. "I should have been faster! I should h-have killed it!", he continued to blame himself. You placed a hand on his cheek, wiping away a tear that had dropped. You hated seeing him like this. "You helped! You saved me! If it weren't for you these little scratches would be something a lot worse!", you tried to sound enthusiastic. "I'm useless.... I can't do anything right!", he whined. You decided to try a different tactic to prove his worth to himself. You leaned in close and placed a small kiss on his lips. "Well, I know you can help patch me up. You used to be a doctor after all. So why don't we get home, settle down, and forget about this whole mess once we clean it up?", you offered. He barely heard anything you said as he was still in shock from your previous action. His eyes were wide and the tears ceased. "(Y/N)...", he managed to say. "Oh come on you big love-bug. I'm not gonna be able to clean my back all by myself.", you took his hand and made your way to the shack. He had an extra little skip in his step. His heart fluttered as if butterflies had just hatched from it like a cocoon. It truly meant something to him that not only did you trust him to tend to his wounds, but you kissed him as well. There was no comment on his appearance or, as the other lords like to joke about, his lack of intelligence. All there was in the moment, in that kiss, was love. And it sent a shock through his entire body that he adored.