#i feel like were slightly grieving

[naivemortal]

WELCOME

i'm dedicating my first post to share stobotnik art i made, the way god intended (i just thought they deserved to have a dance)

REFERENCE BELOW:

(i literally had never made ship art until now, help 😭😭)

[kamitv]

could you write about who you think are the most touch/affection-starved of the jjk boys? the thought of them crumbling at the slightest touch and savoring every second with us makes me 🥴🥴🥴

▷ Delicate

Sypnosis . Men who fold under your touch. / Pairings . (Separate) Nanami x f!reader, Choso x f!reader, Ino x f!reader / Content . afab!reader, established relationships, fluff, begging men, sensitive men, soft sex, filth, dirty talk, etc. / wc . 4.8k

A/N: Grieving over the loss of my man right now-- Gege I hate you and the air that you breathe. This was going to include more men but due to the loss of my lover, my mood was ruined and I couldn’t finish what I had for the others… Anyway, not proof-read, hope you enjoy! ^.^ [MDNI]

★ Nanami Kento

While it may be a bit... unexpected, yes, Nanami is sensitive to your touch. Each one lingers on his skin, seeps through his clothing, and tattoos itself onto him.

He's a very stoic and, usually, stern man but when it comes to you, he's almost like putty under your touch. It's intoxicating really, the way you're always caressing his arms, grabbing his hand to hold when the two of you walk or even during sex.

You're quite the touchy woman and Nanami can't say he doesn't love that about you.

When he comes home after a long day of work, you'd rush to the door to greet him, dressed in your comfort clothes from head to toe with that bright smile of yours latched to your face. Your hands are on him instantly, helping him rid himself of his coat, his tie, hell, even his shoes sometimes if you're feeling enthusiastic enough.

It's cute really. The way you help him undress as soon as he steps into the house, asking him how his day was and reciprocating with a not-so-eventful tale of your day. He's listening to your every word though, hanging off every syllable even, but you don't notice it.

Even as you guide him toward the kitchen to show him a surprise dinner you'd whipped up, you're rambling about something concerning your cooking process and he's hearing every word but, the way your fingers slip down his arms, curl around his wrist to pull him along, release him and then press into his chest to stop him from walking-- it was truly alluring.

Nanami swears he wasn't always this sensitive to touch. He doesn't know why exactly his heart swells in while you keep your hand flat on his chest, your attention on some nearby pot as you continue to talk.

You were explaining something but he'd stopped listening, his eyes all over the side of your face and soon trailing to your arm, and then to the hand you've got on him.

Nanami's hand would be moving before he even realizes, slipping so gracefully to your wrist and moving your hand off of him just to lean down a bit and plant a loving kiss across your knuckles.

"And then I almost-," His sudden kiss would make your brain freeze, head whirling in his direction to see your husband planting peck after peck before he shifts your hand to cup the side of his face and then meets your gaze.

Those gentle brown eyes of his would be so sappy and soft with you, filled with a love you can hardly comprehend as he rests his head against your palm, grinning at you. What a handsome man you've married.

You couldn't be happier as you look at him, even with the sigh that leaves you, "Kento..."

His brows would raise ever so slightly, "Hm?"

"Did you hear anything I just said?" You'd huff out. And there's this slight frustration in your voice but he loves it anyway, completely and utterly smitten for you no matter the situation.

Nanami nods, just barely, before turning his head and kissing the inside of your palm, "Mhm," He hums casually, "You were telling me how you almost burned our kitchen down."

"Yes, and..." Your eyes narrow at the man, watching how he just kisses and kisses your palm, almost as though he couldn't pull himself away, "Ken..." Your hand slips a bit and you caress his face, "Are you okay?"

His hand, much veinier and larger than yours, would come up and cup yours over his face, "Yes, yes, I'm fine. Your touch is just so... soft."

That earns a smile from you, "Is it?" You'd giggle amid your question, eyes lowering at the man before you.

"Yes, it is," Nanami responds simply. Then he begins moving your hand to the side of his neck and his head tilts as he looks at you, stepping closer and closing the slight space between you and him, "I love how gentle it is, how loving, how caring."

"Oh?" Your smile widens and you move your other hand away from the, now forgotten, pot and it goes toward the buttons of his shirt, "Should I start touching you more then?"

"I implore you to, yes," Nanami huffs out, his body leaning toward yours.

You bring your lower lip into your mouth and tip your head a bit, one hand toying with the buttons of his shirt and the other caressing the side of his neck, "Since when has my touch had you this... pleading," You question, words coming out slow as his eyes drop to your lips.

Your husband takes his other hand and grabs a careful hold onto your wrist, dragging your hand further down his body and making you feel against his abs through his clothing as he leans closer to you. His free hand then moves to your waist and he tugs you to him, closing any and all space left.

"Always," Nanami confesses to you, "Your touch makes me weak, sweetheart." He explains with that gentle yet deep voice of his, always so soft when speaking to you.

You smile, "Weak?"

"Yes, weak," Nanami whispers in agreement with a steady nod of his head, eyes doting on every aspect of your facial expression.

The man was so in love and his poured out of his every gaze, brown eyes lingering on your lips long enough to silently tell you what he wanted. So, your hand steadily undoes the first button on his shirt, moving your other hand from his neck to assist yourself.

Your eyes on his the entire time, you unbutton at least four buttons before taking a finger and grazing his bare chest, watching how his breathing stutters from something so light.

Smiling, "This, Kento..." Your voice is small in a sultry whisper as you drag your finger down and down until you pass his torso and reach the hem of his pants, "This makes you, weak?" You as tauntingly just before you begin unbuckling his belt.

His heart rate quickens and he swallows loud enough for you to hear, sighing as his head weighs to the side a little, "Hahh, yes, my love," Nanami tells you, face inclining down to your own.

Your gaze and his meet and the eye contact is heavy with tension, your fingers working his belt loose before you're teasing him by just barely unbuttoning his pants and making sure your fingers caress the area below his abdomen.

Nanami's lips twitch and so badly does he want to kiss you but he's too busy hanging off the slow words leaving your lips.

"Who would've thought?" You utter, smiling at your husband, "A serious man like you crumbling to your wife's small touches."

He tilts his head further and his lips are practically on yours as he speaks, "Small or not... they're touches from my wife." He emphasises just before giving you but a small peck on the lips.

You hum, "I suppose."

And then you're finally kissing him, lips molding into one another and his body melting to the feel of you. Oh how Nanami loves the way your lips part for his tongue to push through, the way you kiss him back with just as much passion as he approaches you with, and how warm and savory the inside of your mouth is.

Soft smacks emit from the two of your lips sliding over one another, your husband nipping at your lower lip and quick to kiss you like it's the last thing he'll ever do. Then his hands are grabbing a firm hold of your waist, silently telling you that you're his to hold and touch however he feels.

His fingers, large, veiny, and thick, feel you through the fabric of your top, unable to pry off of you once he's got you in his grasp.

Then, into your mouth so very lowly, h's grunting, "Undress me," Nanami orders as he slightly steps forward with you.

You step back accordingly and your hands are flying back up, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt and feeling him up afterward as you start slipping the item off of his body.

"Like this? Hm?" You whisper back to him as his shirt hangs off of him, his hands gripping onto you tighter and tighter whilst he walks you backward and out of the kitchen.

His voice makes your knees weak as his mouth detaches from yours and drops to your neck while you move to finally get his slacks off, "Yes, like that. Good girl," Nanami praises against your neck, soft but hot kisses making you gasp.

With your voice all breathy and your feet and hands stumbling with the large eager man before you, "C'mon Ken, at least make it to the bedroom," You murmur, his pants loose on his hips as he bulge brushes against your front.

"I'm trying." He groans, breath simmering into the crook of your neck before his tongue is felt against you.

You can't help but giggle, "You're trying?"

"Yes," He huffs out, voice hinted with this tune you rarely hear from him too often.

You're walking back and back until you bump into a wall for a second, your bedroom door now to your right as Nanami marks up your neck messily. Then you snicker, "Mmmh, I like you like this, Kento," You comment, to which he sighs.

Then he's off your neck and moving you to walk backward into your bedroom, clearly no longer patient.

Cocking his head to the side, "Like what?" Nanami asks curiously.

You shrug and the back of your legs hit the front of your bed, "Desperate, almost," You hum, brows furrowing a bit.

Nanami helps you settle yourself onto the mattress completely before he's crawling on top of you, shrugging his shirt completely off of his body and revealing his full chiseled physique to you.

"Starved?" He asks, trying to find the word you were looking for.

You shake your head and then it comes to you, your arms wrapping around his neck and tugging him down to you before you whisper, "Craving."

Nanami gazes at you for a long moment, simply taking you in before nodding his head slowly, "Craving, yes." He agrees.

Then, another long press of his lips to yours is made and your legs are adjusted to wrap around his waist, Nanami wanting any and all parts of you on him now.

His lips shift to the left a little and he kisses the side of your mouth, then your cheek, and then he drops to your neck again, making you do nothing more than smile as his hands work to get your clothes off of you.

Your top is soon removed, bottoms followed soon after, all of which is discarded to the floor somewhere before Nanami's kissing you again and forcing your hands to be on him.

"Run your fingers through my hair," He murmurs, directing one of your hands to his blonde locks of hair. Then, he takes the other hand and moves it to wrap around his neck, "Scratch my back while I fuck you," Nanami whispers, works making your breathing unsteady while he suddenly grinds his hard cock down into you, "Try pushing me away when it becomes too much, I don't care, just want your hands on me, okay?"

His directions had you hot all over, pupils dilated already, breathing heavy from his constant kisses, and your hands quick to run along his tensed skin before you nod with an obedient, "Yes sir." Leaving you.

Nanami just barely smiles and you feel his heavy cock twitch against you, "What'd I tell you about that?"

"I don't remember," You whipser, your fingers slipping down from his hair to caress his jawline and then pulling his face closer to your own, "Remind me, sir."

There's a smile on his face as his lips finally near your own again, "You'll be the death of me one day." Nanami utters to you lovingly.

And maybe one day you will.

But tonight?

Tonight you are nothing more than a hole for him to fill as he soon grunts into your ear telling you how good your cunt feels around him, telling you how pretty you look taking his cock, and moaning out how much he loves the way you touch him.

★ Choso Kamo

You always knew he was sensitive to your touch. Look at him. No, literally, look at the man. He's not sensitive to everything but your touch is most definitely his weakness.

You once gave the man nothing more than a handjob and he was cumming all over the damn place. You're not sure if you've ever seen your boyfriend so... whiney.

Choso had his legs spread like a slut for you as you sat oh so prettily beside him, fingers wrapped around his cock and stroking him torturously slow. Your thumb would caress his bulging veins, fingers would twirl around his fat tip, tap and slip in between the slit of his cock, teasing him.

And since you were sitting beside him, your breasts would graze the side of his arm, making him flinch over and over. You had him so tense, so sweaty, so loud.

Choso didn't even know he could moan this much just from someone's hand. He's jerked himself off plenty of times but when you do it, it's like blood rushes to both his head and his cock, his vision would blur, and his breathing would grow unsteady.

Maybe it's because of how you had teased him beforehand, running your manicured nails along his inner thigh as the two of you tried to watch a movie together. Only for your hand to accidentally graze his dick, somehow groping him through his clothing and then turning to look at him.

That was when he began to sweat buckets, cock springing up under your palm at one measly little touch and his breath hitching.

Then he was whispering a gruff little, "Baby," Making you smile as you did nothing but innocently bat your lashes at him. To which he'd tip his head back against the couch and swallow, "Stop teasin'..."

You then scooted closer to him, your thigh touching his as your voice neared his ear, "I barely even touched you, Cho," You had whispered, watching how even in the dim lighting, his face grew red and he struggled to keep his composure.

Turning his head to you, Choso was quick to meet your eyes with a low and desperate gaze, lids dimming, brows tensing, and breathing heavy. "Then touch me more, please." He requested quietly, deep voice making your cunt jump with excitement.

You quickly switched hands so that you could turn your torso to him, which was when your breast pressed into his arm and your hand then moved to work his cock out.

And yes, in minutes he was cumming in your hand, making such an embarrassing mess of your fingers. Your hand was so soft, jerking his twitching cock off so perfectly.

Choso was groaning into the air like he couldn't control it, "H-Hahh, aagh, baby-, baby fuck, y-your ha-hahh, hand-," His voice... squeaks? as he says that last word, pitching so deliciously that you have to squeeze your thighs together as you watch him tense up yet again, "S-Shit, m'gonna cum again," Choso breathed out through gritted teeth.

He was so sexy all sensitive and tense for you, making you smile as you watched his face twist up and his eyes flicker every time you focused your palm on his tip.

"Again, Cho? You're makin' such a mess, baby," You coo softly, breath just barely hitting his ear and adding on to the numerous things he was feeling.

His head was spinning at this point and he couldn't stop himself from watching your, much smaller, hand jerk him off, from quick pulls and tugs to slow drags and caresses, to twisting and rolling-- Choso was both in a daze and high off of watching you stroke his aching cock.

God damn you knew how to use your hand. You knew where he was sensitive, knew what to do and how to do it.

His cock was wet with cum and your hand just slide up and down and up and down, the sloppy sound filling the entire space and adding onto his arousal. Cum was slipping in between your fingers, all down to his balls-- shit, he really did make a mess.

It was nasty but... he liked it that way.

"P-Princess, fuuck, please," His voice was cracking, breaking because of you, eyes tearing up as your hand only got faster and faster, "Fuck fuck, please d-don't stop." He pants out, head flying back against the couch as his thighs closed and opened, almost like he wanted it all to end and yet continue at the same time.

Watching him had your body hot, there was a pulse coming from in between your legs and you had half the urge to get down on your knees and just suck him off since he was being so damn whiney.

But at the same time, you couldn't stop your hand. Not when he was about to cum again, not when you were about to drag the sound you were looking for out of him.

"Y'like that, Cho?" Such a simple question you murmured to him and yet it broke him.

Nodding all needily and fucked out, "Yes baby, yesyesyes," He gasps, abs tensing as your hand just would stop. You wouldn't let up on him for even a second and it was killing him, "F-Fuck I like it s'much-, I like you- love you," He corrects, struggling and stumbling over all his words, "Love your fuckin' hand-"

His jaw drops and the groan that leaves him comes from deep within his throat, "Ohmygoddd, fuck," Oh he was babbling for you, thoughts whirling, voice cracking and high pitched with you.

Then his lips quivered and that's when that noice came out. Such a cute, whiney, and filthily obscene whimper slipped out of his mouth, eyes at the back of his damn skull as he came all over your hand again.

And you had the nerve to talk him through it, whispering sweet, "That's it baby," To him and making him pant and his breathing stutter, your hand still going.

Choso couldn't formulate proper sentences with you anymore, barely chanting an almost silent I love you over and over until your hand stopped and his dick finally calmed down.

★ Ino Takuma

Is this even surprising?

Of course your cute boyfriend Ino is sensitive and affectionate starved. Sometimes he tries to act like your touch doesn't faze him but the very second it leaves him, he's giving you these doe-eyes and moving to put your hand back on him.

And it's just perfect for him that you enjoy touching him a lot. You're almost always hugging him or grabbing his face to pull him in for a kiss and he loves it.

So whenever you're away for a few hours, his body aches for you. You'd have your nails done too so that was something he enjoyed feeling more than ever, loving how your fingernails would run through his hair as he laid on your thighs or even in between them, face stuffed into your cunt.

Either way, Ino loved your touches and yes he craves it when you're not around.

So whenever the two of you do meet up, you're always running up to him, throwing your arms up and around his neck, laughing and smiling about how much you missed him.

Then you'd always tug that beanie off of his head, telling him how much you enjoy it when his hair is out and teasing him about looking silly with the accessory on.

He'd shrug off your comment and then as soon as you turn away from him, his arms are draping around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder and crotch pressing into your ass.

Your body would freeze in place as you feel something familiarly hard poking at your ass, turning your head to your boyfriend who you've barely even touched so far and raising a brow at him, "Takuma..." You'd utter softly, earning a grin from him.

"Hm? Somethin' wrong?" He'd ask casually, as if there's not a painful boner in his pants all because you'd hugged him.

"You tell me," You tease, moving out of his hold and turning your body around to face your boyfriend as you cross your arms.

He quickly raises a hand to the back of his neck to scratch, chuckling nervously, "I'm not sure what y'want me to say?" He hums plauyfully.

You tilt your head and him and sigh before moving to point at his crotch, "How about you start with explaining that."

Ino's head drops to look at where you're pointing to, laughing as soon as he sees himself, "Oh, that. Yeah, no, that's uh, that's nothing, really-," His head lifts and you've gotten all close to him again, head angled upward slightly to meet his gaze and your stare making him swallow all his words down with a loud gulp.

Your hand then moves in almost slow motion and you place but a single finger to his chin, tipping his face down some more to get a good look at him and then smiling. "Y'know you can ask me to help you, right? I am your girlfriend, remember?" You whisper.

He starts nodding like he's hanging off of your words, eyes set on your lips and his breathing picked up just because you've got a finger on his chin. "M-Mhm, I uh," He blinks a few times to gather himself, "I know."

You smile and step even closer, your body just barely touching his, "Takuma," You whisper yet again, causing a shiver to slip down his spine.

He was so nervous because of you, "Lover," He hums back.

A chuckle slips past you, "Lover? That's cute."

"Y'like that one? I've been brainstormin' pet names recently," Ino tells you happily, his voice soft with you due to the lack of distance between you and him.

"Yeah, that one's cute," You whisper as your lips near his, "But uh, we're not just gonna skip past this," You emphasize as your hand palms at his erection, making his breath hitch.

Ino's brows tense and so does the rest of his body, "Y'gonna take care of it, baby?" He whispers to you, eyes softening at you as you peer up at him so tentatively.

"You want me to?" You utter back, batting your eyes at him and feeling on his cock through his clothing.

"Yeah," Ino nods out, to which you give him this look and he swallows, quick to correct himself, "Yes... please."

Smiling, "How do you want me to take care of it, hm? On my knees? With my hand?"

Ino barely knows how to even answer your question, it always makes him nervous when you take the lead, not that it doesn't happen often but most times anything sexual between you two just occurs mutually.

There's not always someone in the lead and it's usually just the two of you trying to make the other feel good. Which is enjoyable of course but when you're like this? Asking him what he wants and yet telling him what you're going to do through your gaze?

Oh he's almost the one on his knees for you.

Which is how you ended up later sitting behind your boyfriend, head peering over his shoulder and arms wrapped around him so that your pretty hands could work up and down his cock.

He hardly remembers how he got into this position with you or what he said for you to even want to do this but, here he was; face red, moans pouring out, hips bucking up into your touch, eyes lidded and struggling to keep up with watching the way your two hands groped and jerked at his cock perfectly.

Your fingers and his dick glistened with spit and precum, the sounds of you giving him the best handjob he could ever have asked for loud throughout the room.

"Oh baby," Ino whines out, eyes nearly shut as he tries his hardest not to squirm too much, "That feels so fuckin' good, holy shit."

"Yeah?" You smile, "My hands feel good?" The taunting behind your words made his cock throb in your hands, slim veins bulging against your palms and making you snicker.

Ino nods his head needly, "M-Mhmm, fuck-," He gasps, voice lagging behind as he tries his best to answer you properly.

You start kissing the side of his neck and he swears his head is spinning. He doesn't even know what to focus on at this point. Your hands on his cock? Your lips on the side of his neck? Your breasts pressed into his back?

It was all too much for him, making his knees bend just for his legs to extend out seconds later, his mouth just open with moans of your name and not-so-silent whines slipping out. Did he want it to go on forever or stop as soon as possible?

Fuck, and then there was you heavy breathing against him, almost as if you were aroused by this too-

Holy shit you were. You were probably soaked just because you're busy getting your boyfriend off using those pretty hands of yours. Ino's on cloud nine just thinking about how wet your cunt probably is, his moans getting louder and louder as second pass.

Up until he can't take it anymore and he moans your name, "B-Baby, fuck, needa' feel you, please."

"Hm?" You giggle softly, though it's noticeably more breathy than usual, "You are feelin' me though?" You point out as your hands tighten around his cock.

Ino's head rests back a bit and he pants, babbling out his desperations more clearly for you, "No baby, your pussy, come put it on me, please." He huffs out.

You cunt twitches at his words and you whisper his name, "Takuma...."

"Please?" Your boyfriend begs, gulping afterward to catch his breath for a moment, "J-Just... oh fuck, let me feel you, taste you, fuck you, anything baby, please?"

"Shit, okay, okay," Is the last thing you say before you too folded under pressure and moved.

Then you were on top of him, his eyes glossy as he watched you above him. Neither of you are sure which was more stimulating, you jerking him off or what you're doing now.

Which was rubbing nothing more than his tip against your slick hole, dragging him back and forth and back and forth in between your sopping folds. His tip was glazed in your arousal and his own, both of you moaning softly at the tease of it all.

It was somehow almost better than sex itself. You liked teasing him like this and he loved being teased. Ino was in a daze, trying his hardest not to cum at the sight of you forcing his needy cock against your pussy.

Your cunt looked so fucking delicious, so wet, so warm, he wanted to be inside you so bad and that's what was arousing him right now-- the temptation to just thrust his hips up into you and finally sink his inches deep inside you.

There was a light wet and sloppy sound that followed your languid movements, his cock slipping inside of you every now and then and making you practically start drooling for it.

It was taking everything in you not to just plop down and start bouncing on his cock like you normally would but when you looked at Ino's face and saw him panting and quietly whimpering-- you knew he was about to cum and you didn't want to stop.

Rocking your pussy over his tip over and over and over and over again until he was struggling to gasp for air, hissing out a cry of your name over and over, trying to warn you.

But instead of stopping, you whine, "C'mon, cum f'me," And then he is, and his cock is leaking in cum before he can even comprehend it, never realizing how sensitive his body was to you until now.

You always kinda knew he was sensitive and sure, you rubbing his cock against your pussy was pleasurable but it really surprised you how much he came from the action.

Smirking as he comes down from his high, you then lean to him and kiss him before whispering, "Good boy," To which his jaw drops a bit and you're angling his cock to slip inside you, "Now, hurry up 'nd please your girlfriend," You huff out.

And he's nodding without a second thought, "Yes ma'am-, fuck, whatever you want, pretty girl."

[sold2vlaykz]

ONLY YOU

Prompt: How slashers act when they’re jealous/outbursts/reassurance.

-

MICHAEL MYERS

Believe it or not Michael is a very jealous boy. He just doesn’t believe he is, he is simply “doing what he usually does.”

When Michaels jealous it isn’t a pretty sight. He can become very hostile towards you or innocent bystanders.

Though he is very jealous it doesn’t happen very often, because he’s barely home so it’s unlikely.

When he’s mildly jealous he’d scare you, just to make sure you know who you belong to and simply kill whoever threatened your “relationship.”

If he’s very jealous, he’d actually harm you. Slight slices or soft choking. Taunting you by leaving bodies around the house.

Though don’t think just because he’s a little dangerous that he doesn’t need reassurance, it helps a little to watch you reject people.

Tell people you have a boyfriend, while mentioning his name.

Makes him almost fond of what you do, knowing that you’re his and you’re not ashamed to tell others that you are too.

If you did manage to make him feel slightly good he’d become even more protective, wanting you be only his and making it clear.

Sometimes you have to try and convince him to stay hidden when a neighbor or something knocks because of his jealousy.

There was one time he just popped out and stabbed the couple just because her husband looked at you a little too long.

And he wears the murders like a fucking badge of honor, sometimes seeing their heads propped up on a counter randomly.

Hearing you scream was another thrill.

But one thing that made Michael twitch, or snap. Some would even say go crazier is if someone would to hurt you, or even make you scream.

There was a time you had gotten into an altercation with someone walking down the street as someone let their dog shit on your and Michaels yard.

It was in the middle of the night too, and they had just left it there. The only reason you knew is because you caught them on camera.

So Michael being the lovely boyfriend he is he went to their house and slaughtered her teenage daughter, leaving her there to grieve.

You didn’t even find out until it was all over the news and the search for Haddonfield killer began again.

To be honest you didn’t even know what the two of you were, he just didn’t let you around anyone else, any men mainly. Or outside in general, courting you in his own animalistic way.

Sometimes if you made him incredibly angry he’d disappear, leaving you isolated after his killing spree.

After his jealous encounters he’d barely let you out the house, and you didn’t dare to disobey him even when he was gone because it was like he always had eyes on you.

Always lurking, it felt good knowing that you were protected, but not as much knowing he’d kill a person if they looked at you in the wrong way.

—

Jason Voorhees

Jason is super jealous, he could be considered murderous jealousy but typically he relies on your reassurance and loyalty.

There are times where he does kill when he feel like he needs too, but only when you seem to feel uncomfortable and harassed.

Jason is big and scary but when it comes down to you two he becomes soft, shy even.

After an outburst, he’d feel insecure a little ashamed he felt that way. He’d come to you, and sit there letting you comfort him.

Jason isn’t really vocal about how he feels so he relies on you to understand him by body language.

When you do he feels so excited, happy even. Nuzzling his head into you.

He doesn’t really get jealous just insecure, a bit of sad jealousy.

Though sometimes, very very rarely. When he’s angry and jealous he’d become overprotective. I mean he’d keep you locked up in the house.

Especially if you were almost hurt in the middle of the ruckus, he’d literally chain every exit or entrance of your cabin up and keep you locked in there until everything was over.

Sometimes you’d get into arguments because of how annoying his jealous habits could get.

Sometimes it’d either hurt his feelings and cause him to go into hiding or argue back, he’d thrash things around or yell. He couldn’t really speak so it’d just be verbal roaring.

He’d apologize after but his behavior is very repetitive and hard to deal with. Though he’s sweet enough to pick flowers and apologize harder later.

—

Bubba sawyer

Dangerously jealous, though there isn’t really time for him to act on it unless you tell him too. Of course he’d act if you were in danger or so he’d just stay by your sides when he could.

Though when he has time, he does. You’d be talking to a soon to be victim and he’d come revving his chainsaw and in seconds he slaughtered whoever was talking to you.

Though he’s still very insecure, especially when it came down to you helping out and flirting with the victims to lure them in.

He’d get upset angry and even try to argue to get you out of helping.

He’d whine to you about it, shout and scream. Though it’s easy to shut him up with some reassurance and a kiss.

Him being jealous is a common occurrence, nothing out of the ordinary.

He doesn’t even trust his family around you, always watching. Keeping an eye out, unless you were with his mother.

Sometimes if you end up being left with Hoyt or any male for God knows why he’d start arguments with his family.

Grabbing you and taking you upstairs and forcing you to stay in the room, and throwing tempter tantrums when you didn’t. 

He’d cry when you get mad at him, and throw things around when he was jealous. It was annoying watching him act like a child.

He’d ignore you , give you the silent treatment. It was practically like dealing with a child.

You reassuring him had become a daily task at that point.

—

Pretzel Jack

Attention jealousy, There had been one time where you were hanging out with another imaginary friend and he got sad and snapped.

When you got mad at him he had a long frown, he just wanted your attention, just wanted to play.

He hated when your attention was on other people, like a spouse or friend.

Which is why he was so happy when you got mad at them, and he finally could kill them!

Typically murders are sort of your fault because you should be able to control your anger and keep him under control.

If he’s jealous he’s quick to try and do some tricks to get your attention, and if it failed he’d wail around or have an outburst.

Or go to extreme efforts to get you to smile.

If all else fails, he kills your other friend. And *poof!* you’re his again.

Jack is very overprotective, so it’s more or so him just trying to protect you.

He doesn’t even know what jealousy is he just feels a throbbing in his hands and acts on it.

After doing whatever he did he’d play or lay near you. Making sure to keep everyone away whilst it was just the two of you.

And if you found out what he did and got mad he’d punish himself by keeping himself away from you unless you were in trouble.

Or he’d get really sad and hide away.

When he was jealous it was sort of funny, he’d go to the extreme just to see you crack a smirk or just look his way.

Sometimes purposely sulking in the corner to see if you’d check on him.

Of course you did and your silly Jack was back. Though that didn’t stop him from becoming jealous over and over again. Having to reassure him that he’s your favorite and always will be.

—

Gabriel may

Gabriel was the wrong guy to get jealous, he’d lock you away and keep you to himself.

He’d kill anyone who threatened your relationship, not just because of his obsessive personality but because he was insecure as a whole.

He believed that anyone could take you away, woman or men because he believed he wasn’t attractive enough to keep you.

He’d scare them away, flickering the lights or growling through a phone or radio.

And if that didn’t work, he’d just see them later tonight so they wouldn’t even share the same world as you anymore.

Gabriel didn’t believe he needed reassurance, though he did enjoy it he hid it well.

He believed that it was natural for a man to become overprotective of his partner, even though he wouldn’t even consider himself overprotective.

He didn’t care if you rejected whoever wanted you, they shouldn’t have thought about you romantically in the first place.

Now they have to die.

The difference between him and any other guy is you can’t talk him out of it, when he’s made up his mind, it’s no longer a thought but a soon to be decision.

He’d come home and pretend nothing happened, that it was an ordinary day after he just shoved a knife into an innocent man’s jugular just for having a slight crush on you.

Though if you got sad about it, he’d become insecure and angry.

Wondering why’d you care about any guy that isn’t him, or anyone that isn’t him at all. It was scary watching Gabriel become angry because he couldn’t really control his powers.

The lights will start to flicker, phones going on and off and radio blasting static. The walls vibrating and cabinets clattering.

Of course you’d tell him there’s no one else but as I said reassurance doesn’t really work on him. So you either just let him blow a fuse until he’s all fired out. Or you just ignore him,

But that won’t get you anywhere but him thinking you love someone else.

—

Jacob Goodnight

Though you rejected anyone’s crush proposal to you Jacob still got angry.

He’d bash their brains out saying you’d never date filthy sluts or impure people like them.

There were quiet times too, where’d when he got jealous he’d just come whining to you, and ask you if you loved him despite all he’s done.

And when you’d tell him yes he’d go back to blundering young adults to death before coming to ask you the same question again.

Just to make sure you wanted to be with him despite what he is and what he can’t help but be.

Though it is very easy to reassure Jacob, he trust you with his whole heart.

Sometimes he gets jealous but he can’t help it, there’s always someone that’s going to be attracted to you

He just didn’t like the thoughts of sinners, especially sinners being attracted to you.

—

Norman bates (old)

Norman and his mother were very jealous people, she couldn’t stand the thought of someone hurting her poor boy and him having his first heartbreak.

So she did what any mother would do, kill them or convince Norman too.

She’d whisper cheeky little things in his ear, telling him if he didn’t eliminate them soon they’d become competition.

And eventually Norman just began the killing on his own.

Norman was extremely jealous, so he stuck by your side. Quick to speak up when someone was flirting with you.

Of course he stuttered and fumbled over his words but he knew he had to stand over you because you were his.

And he wasn’t going to let anyone take you away, not even his mother.

He’d hold your hand everywhere, even in the house, he was weirdly obsessive.

Randomly kissing your palm and each knuckle, telling you how much he loved you so randomly in the most awkward situations.

It was hard to use the bathroom alone without Norman knocking wondering how long it’d take before he got to see you again.

You could barely leave the house, when you two started dating he wanted you to move in immediately.

You barely had any say!

But he just wanted you there fast so he could watch your every move and ward off any other competitors.

If you went on a walk by yourself he’d bombarde you with questions, why didn’t you tell him, did you want some distance from him?

What did he do?

It must’ve been that man he was letting stay in the hotel, he has to get rid of him now. That’s what mother would’ve wanted and, it’s what he wants.

Why is he cleaning up blood?

Oh a rat got in that’s all. He’d pat your head giving you soft forehead kisses before waving you off.

When you two get home he’d make you a sandwich and ask you about your walk, about the scenery. If you had any small talk with a stranger.

Of course you knew it was because of his jealousy,

But Norman was so timid you thought it was cute, not that he could kill somebody!

Kissing your cheek with clenching your shoulders hard, confessing what he did. Because the pressure was too much to keep from his beloved.

You forgive him? Oh thank God, that means he can do it again right? You didn’t say not too exactly.

—

Charles Lee Ray.

Charles was the wrong person to make jealous, he’d either put you in your place or kill you both! So you had to be careful,

There was one time a guy came up to you in the grocery store and before you could say anything there was Charles with a pistol up to his back.

He made the guy get on his knees and beg for fucks sake.

After that he yelled at you for even letting the guy in your proximity.

Charles was the type to get sexual when he was angry, angry intimacy.

Either that or blowing the guys head off and going on the run from the police because of it again.

He always expected you to wait for him, whether he was gone for months or years.

And one day he expected you to take him back even when he was a fucking doll!

It was ridiculous, he was always getting himself into some shit and wanting to come back into your arms.

Sad to say the maniac did have his soft moments, where he’d come home after a long run and fall straight into your arms with a snore.

Happy to be back, and happy to see you waiting for him.

Not really like you had a choice though. It’s either you did or your head would meet the back of his famous pistol.

There was no escape from Charles, and his rash jealousy and anger.

It was sort of nice for him to want you and only you, kinda awkward watching him call other woman whores though.

In the beginning he was a cheater, believing that he couldn’t trust anyone, that was until you were fed up of his bullshit and tried to leave him.

Crying, telling him how much he meant to you but you were so tired.

And ever since then the fuck didn’t leave your side, at first it started as threats, stalking and eventually you getting a restraining order.

But that didn’t keep him away, not even prison.

The police had given up before you did so you were sort of stuck, and with him threatening to kill anyone that tried make a move on you.

And eventually, he kept calling you his and you just settled with it.

Not like there was anything you could do.

—

Pennywise

You weren’t dating him, more like stuck with him. A chain on your ankle strapped to Satan who’s asleep.

And when he wakes up, he eats.

You were fairly attractive, and after all he was sort of a kid killer so any time some teenager cat called you he was hungry.

He’d laugh at you, taunting, making you believe you could escape before trapping you right again.

Devouring whoever wanted you in front of your very eyes.

One time you tried to defeat him to kill him, you tried to say hurtful things.

And it backfired.

He laughed and left, the next day you heard screaming. And hid until it was safe to come out. Seeing hundreds of adult corpses, men, woman.

And he sat on top, chomping on a leg like a king on a throne.

Laughing loud, his yellow eyes glowing fiercely in the dark.

Now it was different with men, or any adult who tried to hit on you so ever. He needed food, so he couldn’t kill all the adults and stop the production.

So he did what any intelligent psychopath would do, he killed their kids. Not only will whoever hit on you suffer, he gets fed too.

And if they didn’t have kids he’d just kill them, wasn’t a lot of fun for him but still.

He’d play games on you, pretending that they were going to save you until their head randomly fell of their body.

His laughing came quick his same little dance and taunting.

Though there was one odd time he went out of character, a time where he had been sleeping, or what they thought had been “defeated.

And someone, kept cat calling you, drunkard. Enough to come up to you and grasp your arms and started touching you.

You shocked yourself, because you knew the first name you screamed.

And it was unlike him to not play around with his food first, but he came. Broad daylight. And cut his neck clean off.

His eyes were a light blue and full of anger yet worry.

He grabbed you and carried you to the sewers, trying to force you to sleep through the rest of the years with him.

To keep you safe in a way.

But you had to explain to him that you couldn’t, remembering you were human and didn’t need yearly hibernation.

He was reluctant but at least made you stay down for two days, keeping you safe and fed until you needed to leave, for personal hygiene and job reasons.

Not like you needed to work anyway, he’d just kill anyone who tried to kick you out.

When he woke up he ate first, devouring everything because he didn’t trust himself being hungry and going to see you.

Of course he scared you as his little welcoming.

But sometimes he’d nuzzle into the crook of your stomach, he was technically an alien, he had his animal like tendencies.

He was weirdly possessive, he didn’t even understand his own jealousy. Watching you flirt with a random guy who wanted to help carry what he stated an “attractive.” Persons groceries.

Watching you smile, pick at your skin and cover your teeth as you giggled made him angry.

And he was going to make both of you pay for it.

Of course he killed the man first, he was really focused on you. He courted you, waited for you, protected you, and sometimes even fed you. And this what you do to him? Ungrateful human.

He’d come to your home welcoming himself, not announcing it or anything. Scaring you, taking the form of a human intruder.

Pretending to try and kill you before transforming back with a laugh in his face, before you could argue with him he widened his jaw and went to take a bite.

You screamed but he covered your mouth.

He didn’t let go, it wasn’t deep enough to puncture your skin but enough to bruise you.

And he stayed there, you slept with his teeth latched onto your skin.

He was fast asleep, almost subconsciously doing it.

Tightening inch by inch every time you tried to move his jaw.

—

Patrick Bateman

Patrick getting jealous was rare, he never felt that way unless he felt someone was superior than him.

Or someone caught your attention, which was hard to do.

When Patrick was jealous he’d work out more, try to become extra perfect so you’d never advert your eyes again.

Wearing more expensive and stylish clothes, or taking you shopping.

Dressing you so luxurious anyone would assume you were married.

So jealous that he proposed, making you a housewife so that you couldn’t escape. And every time you went out with those “whore.” Friends any cuck that wanted you would know you’re taken.

He wish he could just fucking label you, but god he wouldn’t want to ruin that god forsaken perfect skin.

He’d even solve his jealousy through intimacy.

Doing what he considered a God worthy performance, showing you that no one could make you happy as much as he does, pleasured, taken care of, loved.

Hell anything.

But there was a point where he had to, take things into his own…gloved, hands.

You had this male close friend, this handsome idiot that you knew since high school, through college, and now.

He was perfect, he had money, fit, nice skin. And it didn’t even look like he was trying, and to top it off he was intelligent.

Anytime you’d come back from hanging out with him you’d refer to him as a ‘cute little geek.’ And he was already having a bad day he just needed some release.

So when your drunken friend bumped into Patrick on the street so dumbly looking for you. Can you believe this?

He was confessing his love for you, to Patrick!

The taxi was full of his confession and Patrick’s occasional “oh really?” Right before he beat the pore guy to death with his golf club.

It was sloppier than usual but he couldn’t have someone talking about his precious only ever in such a way.

When you found out about your friends death you were devastated, he comforted you but couldn’t hide the scowl on his face.

Why did you care so much? Why were you crying so hard about a man that wasn’t him?

He enjoyed you sleeping on him but still couldn’t believe how broken down you were after losing another guy.

You eventually got acquainted with Patrick’s “friends.” And you suppose word got around that you were his because men started to avoid you.

Maybe because Patrick always stood behind you with his threatening demeanor but still.

You eventually got happier but couldn’t help but notice how over protective Patrick got.

Patrick loved how soft you were emotionally and just didn’t want anyone else to have it.

He’d lay his head in your palm and sit there for hours. Before going back to his nonchalant monotonous ways.

[wileys-russo]

in the blink of an eye (5) II a.putellas

series masterlist in the blink of an eye (5) II a.putellas

"-it happened again? usted no es serio?" you laughed in disbelief, the empty takeout cups of your coffees empty and long finished on the table in front of you.

"de nuevo. they must have a whatsapp!" alexia joked awkwardly as you grinned, the sight sending a very strange feeling through the blondes stomach which she rapidly pushed down and away.

"her new girlfriend leaving her for her ex girlfriend, different girls but twice now. we are sure she does not just find all of these chicas in the same bar?" you joked back as alexia chuckled, lips curling with amusement.

"sí sí, está maldita!" alexia shook her head, picking at the piece of banana cake she'd insisted the two of you split since it looked so good but you'd both been so busy talking you'd barely had a second to get a bite in, the icing now a little hard and crumbly.

"alexia you cannot call your own hermana cursed!" you laughed a little louder, throwing your head back and missing the soft smile which curved into the features of the girl across from you who covered it up by placing a forkful of cake into her mouth.

"por qué? she is!" the catalan insisted as you playfully rolled your eyes and sliced off your own mouthful of cake. "alba is unlucky, not cursed." you chuckled, covering your mouth with your hand as you pushed the fork past your lips causing alexia to snicker.

"qué?" you frowned once you'd swallowed and she wordlessly shook her head, small smile still playing on her face as you quirked an eyebrow. "no, tell me." you urged, twirling the fork between your fingers as your ex chuckled.

"you still do the eh, the mouth thing, when you eat." the girl gestured to her lips as you looked on confused, cutting off more cake and once again holding your hand over your mouth as you shoveled it inside.

"eso!" the blonde laughed as you did, pointing her finger at you accusingly as you realized just what she was referring to, feeling your cheeks heat up a little.

"i cannot help it, blame my mami for always telling me i looked ugly when i eat!" you rolled your eyes, alexia worried for a moment she'd offended you before your upper lip quivered as you tried not to smile.

"well you did like to talk with your mouth full." alexia teased as your eyes widened and she felt you kick her lightly under the table, mumbling that she was a dirty liar under your breath as the blonde grinned and snaked another bite of cake.

"cómo está ella?" the midfielder asked, tone softening just slightly but as hard as she may have tried you couldn't miss the ever so subtle hint of pity behind her question, and knowing exactly what it was about.

"ella está bien. she still grieves, cries, mourns, she thinks she hides it well but..." you trailed off with a sad smile, one which alexia mirrored as she hummed to show she was listening, giving you her full attention.

"i think having posie around is sometimes difficult for her even if she will never say so. mariposa is a reminder of natalia in ways that can be so beautiful, but also so hard." you mused honestly, not really having had anyone to talk to this about for some time now.

"she is also getting older, and that shows in her body more than she wants to accept. it is also why she is not able to take posie full time, she struggles to pick her up and hold her with the arthritis." you added on, realizing you were rambling a little more than you intended and stiffening, clearing your throat.

"lo siento, no quería seguir. cómo está eli?" you asked swiftly, alexia's eyebrows knitting together into a frown. "you do not need to be sorry. we got a coffee to catch up, no? that means actually talking about things." the girl reminded firmly but not unkindly as you nodded, flashing her a smile.

"it is nice, talking." you spat out honestly, the words leaving your mouth faster than you could take them back as surprised flickered across the blondes face but she was quick to mask it.

"sí, gracias por preguntarme." the older girl smiled sincerely, both of you mumbling a thank you to the waitress who collected your empty cups and plate, both of you praising how good they were.

"that cake was not as perfect as your mami's, but still it was good. i missed barcelona!" you sighed quickly diverting topics before an uncomfortable silence could build at all.

"i missed you." alexia spoke without thinking, her cheeks blushing pink as she realised her words and was quick to sit up a little straighter. "it missed you, barcelona, i am sure it missed you." she was fast to correct herself, both of you knowing that was not what she meant but alexia was grateful you chose to move on to save her any further embarassment.

and without her little slip up, the next question may not have tumbled out of your mouth quite so loosely.

"would you like to come over for dinner? to meet posie properly." you asked quickly, hesitating for a moment if you should retract the invitation, doubt swirling angrily through your head as you fiddled nervously with your fingers in your lap, hands well hidden beneath the table.

"i do not know if-" you didn't even let her fiinsh before humiliation and regret washed over you and you interrupted. "lo siento, eso fue una idea terrible." you apologised, stammering a little and alexia jolted as you stood clearly about to leave.

"oye oye! no no no, please sit." alexia stood as well, gesturing for you to sit down as you paused but none the less slowly lowered yourself back into your chair and she did the same.

"if you let me finish, i do not know if i can tonight. but i would like to, really, if you are okay with it?" alexia now hesitated, playing with the hem of her shorts as she awaited your reponse.

"sí, si está seguro." you echoed her question as you both exchanged a somewhat awkward smile. "sí, two friends having dinner." alexia confired with a curt nod.

"si, two friends who almost got married." you blurted out, hand smacking over your mouth once you had and cursing yourself over and over in your head.

"oh dios mío alexia, estoy-" you started, stopping abruptly when much to your surprise a belt of laughter left her mouth instead, the blonde locking eyes with you as your lip twitched and before either of you could help it the air was filled with your amusement.

"too soon?" you finally managed to get out once the pair of you had calmed yourselves, earning a few dirty looks from other cafe goers on the tables around you at both of your boisterous outbursts.

"sí, for some, not for us." alexia assured as you both exchanged a shy smile, looking away from one another and taking a beat. "so maybe uh, friday? for dinner." alexia asked, clearing her throat as you nodded.

"sí, friday."

~

"-pink tía?" posie questioned, balanced on her knees as your arm lay in front of her like a canvas, none of her coloring books peaking her interest today and to save yourself a tantrum you'd just given in and offered your arm up as an alternative.

"mm pink is nice nena." you mumbled tiredly, having only just gotten home from work and hardly sleeping last night since posie had been wriggling and kicking until eventually she seemed to find comfort draped across your head, the hot evening air not helping.

you tried hard not to let it happen, but without meaning to and with the rhythmic humming of your niece paired with the scratchings of the marker against your arm and you must have dozed off.

a sharp knock at the door jolted you back awak, sitting up so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash, wincing at the sharp bolt of pain which shot through your neck as you did.

"mierda!" you cursed when you realised you were alone now, the three year old who had once been curled into your side nowhere to be seen as a few more loud knocks echoed through your apartment.

"posie? dónde estás? mariposa? posie!" you shouted, rushing through the house and sighing in relief when you finally found her in the kitchen, but that relief dissapeared and the air sucked from your lungs as if you'd been kicked in the chest by a horse.

"mariposa baja eso ahora mismo!" you shouted, sprinting over and scooping up your niece who somehow had wound up with a steak knife in hand, one of the drawers pulled out and cutlery scattered all over the floor.

she hadn't thought she was doing anything wrong but your stern reaction had the girls eyes welling up in tears and before you knew it she was full on sobbing as you carefully pried the knife from her hands, setting it down on the counter.

"hey hey hey no bebita do not cry! i am not mad at you promesa promesa. i am not mad at you, i love you posie. you just scared me a little that's all! siento haberte gritado." you cooed softly, stepping over the cuterly spill and bouncing her gently up and down on your hip, feeling her tears create a small wet patch on your shoulder.

a glance back had you wincing, you thought you'd done a good enough job at baby proofing since you made all the changes ana required but clearly you needed to make a further effort if a three year old could get a knife in her possession so easily.

the guilt of it all washed over you like a shower would, your eyes squeezed shut for a moment to stop the tears which threatened to leak out, inhaling sharply and composing yourself.

how could you be expected to calm a wailing three year old if you couldn't even keep it together?

but right as posie's sobs started to melt down into wet sniffles, there came the knocking again and off she went, causing you to wince and your blood to run hot as you continued to mumble gently to her, rubbing your hand up and down her back.

right as you touched the door handle the knocking sounded again but thankfully this time posie just continued to sniffle and you cringed at how much snot and tears were crusting on the collar of your shirt.

as you yanked the door open and began to speak someone beat you to it with a click of their tongue. "so you are alive? you can tell your ex that you are back but not even call me after i-" mapi's words fell short as she took you in, disheveled, half asleep and with a sniffling toddler on your hip.

"not a good time maría." you replied curtly as the shock was still engrained in her features you weren't even sure if she'd heard what you said, too fixated on posie who was hiding herself in your neck as you protectively shifted so she was as out of sight as possible.

you were overwhelmed, overstimulated and quite frankly as much as you held no ill will toward the spaniard hers was one of the last faces you wanted to see right now.

"but-but who is-where did-" mapi began to stammer, eyebrows furrowed together with confusion as you sighed, utterly exhausted despite the fact it was barely past midday.

"lo siento, i will call you." you softened your tone slightly but before the tattooed defender could utter another syllable you were closing the door again, back thumping against it as you exhaled slowly and shakily.

"ven aquí nena, let us get cleaned up eh?"

~

once you'd gotten posie cleaned up, calmed down and settled in front of one of her cartoons you could breathe again, smiling at the way her eyes drooped despite the fight she'd put up that she wasn't tired.

you let out a chuckle and swooped in to grab the little container of cut up peaches out of her hand as you watched her eyes close and her grip loosen, setting it on the coffee table and smoothing her hair out, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead and tucking her bear under her arm.

you'd sat her on the counter and as calmly as possible explained knife safety best you could to a three year old, who adorably had explained she was trying to make you a snack after your nap, just like you did for her.

once again you had to stop yourself from crying knowing that wasn't what your niece needed, instead wrapping her in a tight hug and murmuring how much you loved her, unable to tell the tiny human just how much you needed her as well.

with posie down for her afternoon nap and still under your now hawk eyed supervision it allowed you to flutter about tidying, determined to make a better impression on your ex girlfriend than when she'd last visited your home.

you cursed under your breath as you finished and checked the time, two and a half hours somehow flying past as you needed to get posie up as well as start dinner so it was mostly done by the time alexia was set to arrive.

only you knew the girl well enough that for alexia early was on time, on time was late and late was unforgivable.

so you weren't caught off guard at a knock at the door sounding twenty minutes early, already having seen her car park ten minutes prior and checking in amusement every few minutes to see if she'd left it yet.

a quick check in on posie and you found her on the floor of her room playing with a few of her stuffed animals, another check confirming there wasn't anything she could swallow, choke on or hurt herself with before you ducked out and headed for the door.

"hola." you greeted the girl with a smile, not missing the obvious nervous tension in her shoulders as she repeated the greeting and you stepped aside to let her in.

"it is uh, cleaner, than last time." you chuckled a little awkwardly, closing the door after her as she looked around. "don't do that, people live here, of course it will looked lived in." alexia assured with a nod as you squeezed her arm appreciatively, stepping past her as she slipped off her shoes.

"oh! for you." she seemed to remember her hands weren't empty, holding up a bottle of wine, the label sparking memories that hadn't hurtled to the surface in years, a laugh of surprise leaving your lips.

"i know it is cheap but-" "but it is my favorite. i have not seen it in years!" you grinned happily, alexia seeming a little relaxed now as her lips curled upward, clearly content with your reaction.

"tía?"

and just like that any and all sense of calm alexia once felt was sucked away in an instant, the tiny brunette peeking out of the bedroom looking her up and down as you moved to stand beside her.

"remember i said one of my friends was coming over for dinner posie? well, this is alexia." you squatted down, nodding encouragingly to your niece who curled herself into your side.

"oye who is this shy chica? where is my posie mm? mi pequeño parlanchín." you teased, poking your fingers into her side as she giggled and alexia suddenly felt her knees go weak at the sight, clearing her throat lightly trying to pull herself out of it.

"tía i'm here!" your niece squealed, wriggling out of your hold as you grinned and poked her a few more times until she looked up at alexia again and shuffled closer to you.

alexia suddenly realizing she was a lot taller than a three year old immediately squatted down to seem a little less intimidating as you flashed her a soft smile, whispering something to your niece who nodded.

you stood again and offered her your hand, her tiny fingers wrapping around yours as you lead her over to where alexia was. "me llamo mariposa." the small girl spoke shyly before ducking to hide behind your leg as alexia glanced up at you and you nodded encouragingly.

"encantada de conocerte mariposa, me llamo alexia." the footballer introduced herself softly, holding out a hand as you had to stifle your laughter at the sheer size difference between hers and your nieces as posie slowly shook her hand.

"did you know the name mariposa means butterfly?" alexia smiled as posie seemed to perk up a little more, stepping out properly from behind you.

"sí! i have butterfly wings, from abuela." posie nodded eagerly as alexia gasped. "muy chulo." the blonde smiled as posie seemed to regain her confidence. "i show you after dinner?" posie offered as alexia instantly agreed and your smile grew even wider watching their interactions.

your niece letting go of your hand stepped forward now with a slight frown, alexia tensing up again as a tiny finger traced her cheeks. "mami and papi's video." the three year old spoke as you now frowned, squatting down and gently pulling her hand away from where her fingers continued to prod softly at alexia's face.

"bebita we already watched mami and papi's video this morning before you went to abuelas, remember?" you started gently, knowing the topic was an incredibly touchy one as the small girl shook her head.

"see you, in mami and papi's video!" posie pointed to alexia and looked to you expectantly, but before you could say a word she was taking off, racing away as tiny footsteps thumped through the house.

you took off after her and alexia was quick to follow, finding her in the living room with the remote in hand which she shoved at you, babbling away to press play on the video and ignoring anything you said in response.

alexia stumbled a little as posie tugged on the hem of her shorts, clearly trying to drag the much taller girl toward the couch as she sat down, posie climbing herself up to join her as with a sigh you gave in and clicked play.

you took a seat on posie's other side and for the first few minutes the three of you sat in a somewhat uncomfortable silence, though right as you were ready to attempt to put your foot down and turn it back off, it happened.

"mira! mira, mira, mira! alexia!" your niece stood to her feet, clinging onto alexia's shirt to steady herself as she pointed to the tv and sure enough, there she was, and a tidal wave of emotions overcame you and suddenly it was as if you could still remember the very day.

"estás muy guapa." the brunette hummed in your ear as you returned from the dance floor, settling yourself down on her lap as her arms tightly encircled your waist.

"muy muy muy preciosa, mi preciosa novia." your girlfriend showered you with compliments as you leaned back into her, your head craning backwards to rest on her shoulder.

"deberías ver a mi novia." you smiled teasingly, the older girl leaning down to press her lips sweetly against yours. "mmm, i hope she can fight?" the footballer whispered mid kiss as you laughed, hands finding her cheeks and deepening it slightly.

you were both pulled from your little love bubble at the sound of wolf whistles, your very drunk sister waving at you from the dancefloor as her newly elected husband caught her before she fell, sending you a knowing wink as he whisked her away.

"do you want to get some air?" you asked, pushing back up off of alexia who nodded, joining you as you stood, her fingers interlocking with yours as the pair of you made small talk with a few people on your way out.

you exhaled into the crisp night air, closing your eyes and soaking in the fact the pair of you were finally alone, ears ringing from the sheer contrast of how quiet it was out here compared to how loud the music was thumping inside.

"this could be us one day cari." you were consumed by the scent of your girlfriends perfume, turning at the sound of her voice and moving to wrap your arms around her torso.

"too drunk to walk?" you teased with a grin, your sister having been far from sober out of nerves nearly all day, quite the anxious bride from the moment she'd been proposed to.

"tal vez, we could be married mi amor." alexia was too tipsy to notice the way your body tensed up in her arms, playing it off with a laugh and hoping she would change topics.

"is that something you want?" no such luck.

"i have had too much tequila mi amor, i think i want to go back to our room soon." you looked up with a smile, reaching up to push a loose strand of hair behind her ear and not missing the odd look which flashed across the older girls face.

but before she could say another word the two of you were once again pulled from your little bubble at the sound of loud retching, letting go of one another and spinning around.

"oh dios mío....is that my mami?" you groaned in realization at the woman hunched over, throwing her guts up into the flower beds. "who is holding her hair?" you questioned with a frown, squinting to try and work it out but your girlfriend clocked it first.

"dios mío i think that is my mami!"

"tía? tía?" you crashed back down to the ground as a hand touched your cheek, blinking a few times and meeting your nieces little gaze which looked up at you.

"mira! alexia." she tugged on the sleeve of your shirt, pointing to the tv where again there was another clip of a much younger alexia spinning you around on the dancefloor, a quick glance to your right showing the girl in question watching the tv avidly with an unreadable look on her face.

thankfully it seemed someone somewhere had your best intentions in mind as the oven pinged signalling the timer was done and you breathed a sigh of relief you hadn't realized you'd been holding in.

"vamos! time to eat."

you stood with a soft tender smile on your face as you packed up the leftovers from dinner, posie twirling around the living room after she'd made you and alexia push the couch and coffee table out of the way.

she had her little butterfly wings on and you had to stop yourself from laughing aloud at alexia's own wings, which were two little blobs of purple and orange vaguely resembling tacos which posie had drawn and insisted be taped to alexia's back.

you'd tried to talk her out of it but much of your sister was in her daughter, especially natalia’s often hard headed stubborn tendencies as of course alexia assured it was fine and you'd given in, somewhat relieved you’d manage to avoid any sort of meltdown or tantrum.

it seemed posie was trying to teach her a dance of some sort and you had to hide a snicker into your hand as the footballer awkwardly tried to copy her movements, rigid and stiff and you'd always teased her that she danced with two left feet.

placing the last container in the fridge you had to interrupt, a glance at your phone showing it was nearing posie's bedtime and she still hadn't even had a bath yet.

"vale! beautiful dancing chicas, but i think it is time for a certain little butterfly to have her bath." you smiled as alexia exhaled in relief, dropping her arms from the position posie had insisted they be in, rolling her shoulders with a slight wince as you bit your lip to hide your smile.

"five more." you felt a small body hurtle into your leg nearly knocking you down as you chuckled and brushed her flyaways away from her forehead which was prickled with sweat from her dancing.

"no nena, bath and bed, or else you will be a grumpy butterfly tomorrow." you honked her nose gently as the three year old huffed, scowling and making a point to stomp her tiny feet all the way to her bedroom.

alexia jumped hearing the door slam and you chuckled with a shake of her head. "who says it is only teenagers who have attitude? mentirosa." you tutted as alexia's face softened, a snicker sounding from you as she tried to awkwardly crane her arms to pull off the paper wings.

"aquí, date la vuelta." you nodded for her to turn around as you carefully peeled off the paper, brushing a few loose pieces of fluff off of alexia's t-shirt and tapping her shoulders gently to signal you were done.

"tía! stuck again!" you heard posie holler out from her room, alexia now the one to chuckle as you explained your niece had a habit of somehow winding up tangled in her clothes when left to pull them off of her body herself.

"i should go..." you trailed off and nodded behind you with a small smile. "i should go too." alexia was swift to reply as you swallowed your disappointment at her words.

"or i stay? help with the uh dishes and to move things back?" she quickly offered, rubbing the back of her neck with a signature awkward smile. "oh no you do not need to help with those!" you assured as posie yelled out for you again.

"but if you want to stay, i will not be long?" "bien, but i am doing the dishes." "do i have a choice?" you began to walk backwards with a smile as alexia grinned and shook her head.

"tía ayuda! stuck!"

[lovebugism]

i’d love to see what you’d do for a holiday spent with rockstar!eddie 🙂‍↔️ maybe a quiet night in decorating or just smitten with each other’s company after time spent apart?? a suggestive ending maybe 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

ty for requesting :D — you and rockstar!eddie spend the holidays together after coming back from tour (rockstar!eddie universe, established relationship, allusions to smut 18+ | 1.2k)

You wake that morning to a heavy and familiar weight on top of you. 

Eddie Munson — rockstar, heartthrob, and world-famous dweeb — is sprawled along your back like your own personal blanket. You swear you can feel his heart beating softly against your shoulder blade while his mouth rests on your cheek, pink and softly parted to exhale little snores in your ear.

You let him for a while, until you think you feel drool on your jaw.

“Wha—?” Eddie slurs when you shift slightly to shove at him. He makes no move to get off of you, though.

“You know we aren’t in a bunk anymore, right?” you mumble into the pillow. “So you don’t have to sleep directly on top of me now.”

“Well, jokes on you, ‘cause I love being on top of you,” he quips, voice heavy with sleep.

You raise a feeble hand to swat at him. “You’re such a perv,” you grumble.

Eddie laughs quietly in your ear, then brushes his lips along your cheek in a chaste kiss. “Want breakfast?” he mumbles against your skin, soft and warm with a lingering slumber.

You nod lazily against the cushion. “Yeah. But I also wanna sleep for, like, five more hours…”

“How 'bout I do a bagel run, and after we fall asleep on the couch? Like old times?”

The mention of old times makes your chest feel all sparkly. Back when you swore you’d hate each other to the grave, but Eddie still had your breakfast order memorized, and you’d still have his favorite T.V. show on by the time he got back.

You’d doze off together, on opposite sides of the couch, but under the same blanket — like some kind of old married couple. Until Steve inevitably found you both there, and you’d go back to hating each other all over again.

“Deal,” you mumble, already half-asleep.

Eddie pats your ass twice and slides off of you.

You grieve his warmth the moment he’s gone.

An hour or more later, the two of you are sufficiently full with breakfast, passed out on opposite sides of the couch, with Scooby Doo re-runs playing quietly across the room.

That’s precisely how Steve finds you — his roommates turned world-famous rockstars — snoring with their mouths wide open, at one in the afternoon, after months of being away. 

With his arms full of groceries, he slams the door shut with his foot. The resounding thud startles both of you accordingly. You and Eddie lift your heavy heads like waking zombies, wincing as you stretch your aching backs.

“This is really humbling to see, by the way,” Steve quips as he hangs his keys by the door.

Eddie scowls. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” Steve shrugs. “It’s just— while you guys were halfway across the country, people wouldn’t stop gushing about the two of you... But it’s a really nice reminder to know that you guys are still a bunch of slobs.”

“Asshole…” Eddie grumbles.

You wipe the sleep from your eye and sit further up. “What are those?” you ask, nodding to the paper bags he holds in both arms.

Steve’s lips jut softly out as he peers over the tops of his groceries. “Ornaments, garlands, tinsel… And some condoms, ‘cause we were running low.”

“Who’s we?” Eddie scoffs.

“Me and your mom—”

“I love you, Stevie,” you say. “But there’s no way in hell I’m decorating this place today.”

“Yeah, Harrington,” the wild-haired boy beside you squints. “We just got home. You’ll have to peel me off this couch if you want me to help.”

“Oh, please,” Steve scoffs.

“What?”

You flash him a knowing grin. “We all know you’re gonna watch Steve do it until he inevitably puts something in the wrong spot and pisses you off until you just to do it yourself. You do it every year, Eds.”

Eddie rolls his chocolate eyes. “I’m not that predictable, doll.”

—————

The apartment is fully decorated by nightfall, by Eddie’s own stubborn volition.

Steve helps you bake a batch of cookies, then promptly leaves after taking a phone call you weren’t allowed to spy in on. He shoves on his coat and mumbles something about an old bootycall that was back in town for the holidays.

You break into his good liquor accordingly, and spike your mugs of hot chocolate with his expensive whiskey.

“C’mere,” Eddie waves from his spot by the glowing Christmas tree.

You let out an immediate whine from the couch, made sluggish from the long day and the spiked cocoa. “What?” you call back in a dramatic mewl.

“You gotta put the star on, doll— You do it every year,” he mocks with a lopsided smile, slick with alcohol.

“But I’m comfortable!”

“Stop complainin’ and get your sweet ass up here.”

You comply, though not without a series of inaudible grumbles as your feet shuffle along the carpeted floor in subdued protest. Eddie guides you up the small step ladder with his palms splayed on your ass.

“What? I’m helping you!” he defends when you flash him a knowing look.

His hands jerk instinctively to your hips when you rise to the tips of your toes, leaning slightly over to hang the shining star upon the highest bough, as it were. You don’t seem to notice how the old wood wobbles slightly beneath you. Eddie does, though, and his chest stings with a fleeting panic as you smile widely down at him.

“It’s so pretty, Eds,” you marvel, only partially tipsy. “You did such a good job.”

“I know,” Eddie hums, all proud of himself, as his palms smooth back over the plush of your ass. “So pretty…” he echoes in a distracted murmur.

“Stop being a perv. I’m trying to compliment you.” You roll your eyes and descend the creaking ladder.

The tree looks best from far away, you think — a chaotic mess of lights and tinsel; of shiny new ornaments and old ones the three of you have collected since childhood. It’s nostalgic, homey, warm. All the feelings you’d nearly forgotten about after spending months on the road.

“Thank you for doing all the work, by the way,” you lilt sheepishly, resting your head on Eddie’s shoulder when he stands at your side. You inhale the sweet scent of his cologne until your chest glows with it.

“How’re you gonna make up for it, huh?” he quips, obviously playful, as he presses a chaste kiss to your hair.

“By cleaning up the mess you made.”

Eddie only then seems to notice the piles of boxes and ripped-open plastic littered along the floor. “Okay, well, what about after that?” he presses.

“Um… Getting in the shower, probably,” you continue with a feigned obliviousness. “‘Cause I smell like sweat and booze.”

A pleased sound rumbles in Eddie’s throat as he smiles down at you. “Mm… Can I join?”

You meet his grin with your brows raised in question. “Only if you’re gonna shave my legs for me,” you answer.

He’s grown strangely fond of doing it for you, which you noticed after months of sharing showers to save water on the road. Not only does it save you the grueling work, but it’s always sure to end with his mouth between your thighs. 

So it's a win-win, really. 

Eddie knows it, too, and he smiles wider than he realizes.

“Deal.”

[verysadlesbian]

Now that I have sat with my thoughts for a couple of days, I want to talk about some things:

There are too many people trying to defend Caitlyn's actions, so I have to say: NOTHING, and I mean absolutely nothing, justifies fascism. "Oh but she's grieving and blahblahblah" you know who else was grieving?! The mother of the kid Jayce killed in season 1. You know who else?! Vi and Powder that saw enforcers murder their parents, just like many other children from Zaun. Caitlyn destroyed her mother's legacy in the police brutality™️ operation, you understand how fucked up this is? Her mother's recording is saying "the people from Zaun deserve to breathe," and she did it anyways. If you sympathise with Piltover, you're either part of the problem or naïve enough to fall for fascist propaganda.

Ekko is the only real one. Not a single slightly evil bone in his body. Everything he does, he does for his people, not in a persuit of power, or revenge. He's genuinely good, so much so that he's willing to hang out with not only Heimerdinger, but also Jayce just so he could protect his community. He deserves so much better and I'll be heartbroken when he finds out that Vi was involved in Caitlyn's operation.

I don't know how Vi can forgive Caitlyn after what happened. I know I wouldn't. It just goes to show that you cannot trust that privileged people are going to be different just cause they were nice to you. Viktor found that out in season 1 and Vi is finding this out now.

Do you guys think the black rose is gonna pretend to be Mel?! I don't play LOL, but it is to my understanding that the black rose can make clones, so it'd be obvious that they're gonna take Mel's identity

Saw some people on twitter and tiktok (of course they were there) denying that jayvik has heavy romantic undertones by stating "they're friends! They're like brothers! Why everything has to be gay now?" and EVERYTHING HAS TO BE GAY CAUSE I SAID SO, NOW SHUT UP! But seriously though, I understand that to cishet viewers, their relationship might seem strictly platonic, 'cause they lack the eye that we, queer people, have for these things. And that's okay. Not everyone needs to understand the nuances of a homoerotic friendship. But in the same breath, they're quick to say that "Viktor was thinking about Sky, so obviously he's straight" and that pissed me off, cause: 1 - have you looked at him?; 2 - He feels responsible for her death (cause he was)! He's thinking about her because he feels GUILTY! that man was not interested in Sky whatsoever; 3 - it's so heteronormative to think that a man and a woman can't be friends, they're so adamant in denying jayvik cause "they're friends!" but they do the same fucking thing!; and finally 4 - HAVE YOU LOOKED AT HIM???

The trio "Sevika, Jinx and Isha" is probably my favourite thing in Act 1, I just can't get enough of them.

[dark-and-kawaii]

Yuji stood just outside Nanami's and your home… his knuckles hovering over the wooden door, hesitant to knock. Each breath he took formed clouds of fog that hung in the air. He could feel it as he stood, felt the weight of his body and the chill that enveloped it. It felt heavy... Everything felt so impossibly heavy...

The silence that greeted his knock felt different, more final. Peeking through the window, he could see how still everything was, how quiet the house was for once, your usual playlist was absent, leaving an emptiness that seemed to echo… 

“Ohh~ Why hello there young man~!” 

A fragile voice had startled him from his thoughts. It was an elderly woman that emerged from behind the large rose bushes you and Nanami had planted together just last spring. She was small, barely reaching Yuji’s chest, her weathered hands trembling slightly on her cane as she shuffled closer. Her eyes held so much warmth- so much kindness and excitement that made Yuji’s chest tighten. 

“If you’re looking for Mrs. Nanami, she left in quite a hurry this morning~!” her voice quavered with joy, unaware of how each word drove daggers into Yuji’s grieving heart. “I’m not certain where Mr. Nanani is, but oh i do hope he made it in tim-”

“Please!” Yuji’s voice cracked, panic clawing its way up his throat, “Is she alright!?” His hands shook as images of curses and blood filled his mind of the worst possible outcome, “Where is she!?-” 

“Hush now, dear child,” The old woman's face softened into a gentle smile, “She’s at the hospital just down the way. The baby decided to come early!~” She clasped her hands together in delight, “I can hardly wait to see them come home- all three of them together! If it’s a boy, he’ll surely have his father’s handsome features!”

Yuji felt the world tilt beneath his feet. He bowed his head, shoulders hunched as if to shield his face from the truth he carried… Every word this woman spoke was another weight added to the crushing truth of what he knew- of what he had to tell you… His fingernails bit crescents into his palms, drawing blood he couldn’t feel though the numbness.

“Kento’s always been so quick to be by her side you know? it’s strange he wasn't there this morning, but ohhh~ I’m sure he was already at the hospital waiting for her~” The woman's voice continued, distant now, as if coming through water, “It must be nice having such a man like that, heavens sake, just last week when she was struggling with groceries he help-” 

Her voice faded into the background as memories flooded Yuji’s mind… How Nanami would adjust your scarf while the three of you were out on cold mornings, the way his usual stoic expression softened at the edges when glancing your way… The way his hand would absentmindedly touch your growing belly, as if to reassure himself you and his unborn child were still there… And now, because of one moment, one curse… he would never meet his child. Never know if they had his eyes, his smile, his quiet strength or your features and kind heart… 

At the hospital, through the crack in the door, Yuji saw how you were curled around your newborn daughter, your finger caught in her tiny grasp. The golden sunset painted you in a warm light, and despite your exhaustion, you were absolutely glowing…

“We did it, Kento,” your whisper carried through the door, “we have a beautiful baby girl.” Your smile, so pure and unaware, shattered what remained of his composure. “Hurry back from your mission so you can meet her… We’re waiting ♡.”

Outside your hospital room, Yuji stumbled back, tears burning trails down his cheeks as he bit his lip until it bled, trying to stifle the sobs threatening to break free. How could he tell you? How could he destroy this perfect moment with the truth that Nanami- your Kento, your daughter’s father- had been torn apart by a curse… How could he explain that your “waiting” would be eternal…?

He couldn’t. Not yet…

As he wandered the hospital halls, he noted all the beautiful details Nanami had ensured would surround you during this moment. The butterfly sanctuary, the library, the gardens. Even when it came to you birthing his child, Nanami had thought of everything- had wanted everything to be perfect for you.  

When Yuji finally entered your room, you were sleeping, your daughter nestled against your chest- a mother and child portrait of serenity. He noticed how your daughter’s wisps of hair caught the moonlight, the same shade as Nanami’s… The sight drove the air from his lungs. His body finally giving in and collapsing into the chair beside your bed, Nanami’s final moments- final words replaying in his mind… “You’ve got it from here, right? And please, watch over them.” followed by the visceral memory of blood spraying across the walls, of flesh tearing, of a good man’s last breath given to the thoughts of the family he’d never see again.

“Mmn’ Y-Yuji?” Your voice, still heavy with sleep, froze him in place, his heart stopping as your eyes fluttered open. “M’where’s Kento?” 

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by your daughter’s first cry- as if she somehow knew, somehow felt the weight of what was about to destroy her mother’s word forever… Yuji’s throat closed around the words he couldn’t say, tears spilling over as he faced the impossible task of telling you that Nanami Kento would never come home again… And then he saw it- watched how realization dawned in your eyes as the blood stained necklace with Nanami’s wedding band slipped from his pocket… 

[thalwri]

from ashes to warmth

sylus x fem! reader

synopsis: you return from a hefty battle against a few wanderers to face yet another fight to protect your home– or at least what's left of it. with nothing left, you force yourself to find refuge and there's only one person you know who can keep you safe.

warnings: angst, fluff, teasings towards smut, more fluff, mentions of death, teasing, quite suggestive

word count: 3,4k

minors don't interact.

it wasn’t supposed to go this way.

hunters were swarming around your apartment’s entrance as you returned from a gory mission. skin sticky with blood and sweat, body limping with small cuts and bruises, you didn’t have the energy to question their presence. but then you were forced to when they didn’t allow you inside.

“there’s an active metaflux in the estate,” xavier, one of your close companions, muttered while stifling a yawn. he was also dressed in his hunter’s uniform and slightly ruffled so he was just as surprised as you. even if he didn’t show it. 

“hunters aren’t speaking on it because there are a few civilians within the area.” he tugged you to a more secluded corner of the bustling crowd full of gown and slipper-adorned hunters off duty. “if the wrong person catches word, a few things will end up compromised– including the integrity of our safety.”

“guess that’s already been hit.” a bitter chuckle brewed in the back of your throat as you glanced at the seemingly calm estate you live in. it looked fine, and there weren’t any surrounding wanderers you could see.

unless they were already inside.

you could feel the wounds you wrapped throb in discomfort as blood seeped through a deeper cut on your arm. the flamma ignis and polar wyrm that attempted to rip your limbs off had done enough damage to put you out of commission for a few days. you still had to file your mission report on top of that–

crackle– BOOM!

the ground trembled beneath your feet as a shockwave threw you off your balance just enough to make you stumble back. the screams of the hunters around you were deaf to your ears, the intense ringing of the explosion piercing through your skull as your vision cleared from the bright orange and green blur before you.

bodies flew and thumped before you. their lifeless bodies had strings of smoke flowing above them, almost like their souls were ascending before your very eyes. slowly, you turned your gaze to the home of many– your home– reduced to rubble and ashes and sprawling with wanderers of all grading. the standard, elite, and superior all heading towards you.

it took hours to eliminate them all. the hunters that were equipped and lucid enough to fight were on the front lines. the rest of the hunters either went to the nearest hunter-residence to collect as many weapons as possible to support the fight which was much needed.

you and xavier stood within the front lines for the first portion of the battle that had felt endless, surging on through your pain and frustration towards the fact that your apartment was effectively destroyed– unable to cry or grieve but only allowed to scream out the fury with each gunshot and stab of the blade until there was nothing but protocores left.

the sound of a crow’s caws ran through the growing silence amongst the hunters, a silence of mourning accompanied by the crackling of the flames within the rubble. the emergency services had arrived, taking in as many of the injured as possible, and the paramedics adorned in black cloaks took the bodies of the deceased. 

one by one, the hunters dispersed, booking nearby hotels or calling friends and family to stay with at least until the apartment estate was rebuilt. you remained, still trembling with shock and disbelief, for near an hour. xavier had left saying he had a few things to settle and suggested you find a hotel before they were all booked out. you lied, saying you had a place.

well, you did. but your grandmother’s home also suffered the fate of an explosion.

you discretely listened in to the investigation taking place to your left. speaking in hushed whispers while some hunter’s watches illuminated a recollection of what had taken place. word of a radio-frequency chip being found in one of the elevators, whispers of some people still being inside at the time of the explosion, mutters of transmuted humans and the potential involvement of the company known as ever…

all leading to a single answer: this was no accident. you were all being targeted.

and whoever set it up succeeded. 

your territory is gone. and now you’re bare and open to whatever wishes to devour you.

unable and unwilling to hear more as much as your curiosities were piqued, you limped to your 270hm and placed the helmet over your head. another cry of the crows filled the silence of the night, almost consoling you as tears finally ran down your face. you didn’t know where you were going. you just drove.

you drove through the traffic and the wails of the ambulances, you drove through the quiet of the bloomshore district, and you raced the hypertrains of Azure Square and through the outskirts of the city until you found yourself stopping at a familiar luxury estate. 

you picked your phone out of your pocket, fumbling through your contact list until you found his name. the line barely rang before the call picked up. your words choked at the tip of your tongue, your breathing grew laboured as you struggled to put your thoughts into words.

you were terrified, in pain, and distraught. you didn’t know what to do or how you’d be able to tend to your wounds. the hospitals across the city were stacked, and your usual medical companions were likely occupied for the next few days. 

at this rate, you were beyond your wits end.

“kitten?” his deep voice engulfed you in comforting warmth. as you removed your helmet, a familiar ruby-eyed crow landed on your motorcycle. mephisto relentlessly cawed hopping on your uninjured thigh to nudge you. if it were any other occasion you would have threatened to eat him. this time, you appreciated him.

“i’m here,” you whispered, staring at the entrance to his mansion. one of the great many he owned.

“i know.” the large doors opened to reveal the pale, silver haired man before you. his hair was damp, his red and black blazer was draped over his shoulders almost as if he had rushed to put on some clothing after taking a shower.

sylus held his hand out to you, wordlessly requesting you join him inside. whether it was the gesture or you losing you grip on your emotions, you didn’t know but you found yourself bursting into tears. 

within an instant, a shadow of crimson and black feathers formed by your side and his warm calloused hands held you. you instinctively held him in your pained embrace, crying through the agony of your wounds, the grief of watching some of your colleagues pass in the midst of battle, and the overall disarray of losing practically everything you owned. 

sure, some things can be remade or retrieved from the cloud but that didn’t console the hurt. 

the misty shadow of sylus’ evol engulfed you both until you were flat above him on the bed of one of the many rooms in the property. the firepit was burning, sending a more comforting aroma to you rather than that of burning concrete and other things which you preferred not to dignify with words anymore.

you allowed yourself to shake as your cries echoed around the room, sylus chose to remain silent and comfort you by stroking your back, glancing at your wounds and calculating what he had to attend to first– comforting you or ensuring none of the injuries got infected. you appreciated his quiet care, the gentle touch of his hands and his chin rubbing the top of your head calmed you down just enough to push out a few words.

“the– the apartment estate… it– it–”

“i know,” he whispered as his grip tightened on you but not too hard to affect your wound. he gently pressed his lips on the top of your head. “i know.”

a heavy sigh left your lips in gratitude. you felt so sticky and gross and you were messing up his bed. you couldn’t help but feel bad.

“i’m sorry,” you quickly sat up, groaning at the pain growing throughout your body. “i must be making a mess–“

“there are many more beds, kitten.” his lips curved into a careful smile as his hands hovered around you just incase you lost your balance. “there are more important things to deal with. like that cut.”

you didn’t even get the chance to agree, he immediately swept you up with one arm– the other working at removing your shoes. he sat you on the side of the sink to turn on the shower. the cold touch of the porcelain sent shivers through your body. the mirrors blurred with steam, your body began to warm as a thin layer of sweat formed over your blood and dirt-stained skin. 

you hadn’t realised you zoned out until the sharp sting of disinfectant hit the open wound on your arm. your top and pants had long been removed, leaving you in your most comfortable state with the man you were most comfortable with. sylus carefully dabbed a disinfectant-drench cotton ball on each wound until they were reasonably cleaned of the blood and dirt. he gently wrapped your arm with a bandage, holding a thin layer of gauze directly above the cut, until it was snug on you. 

“next time you decide to fight over one hundred wanderers, do call for help.” sylus tutted, tossing the dirty cotton balls in the bin. “i was going to come when mephisto informed me– but i had gotten occupied by some temporary business partners.”

“you would have left and compromised your safety?” you sniffled, almost tempted to laugh. “it’s almost like you want me to hand you over to the Hunters Association.”

“i have a few friends there,” he gave you his signature smirk. “i think i’d be just fine.”

he had muttered something about preparing a room for you and left you in the bathroom to clean up and dress into some comfortable wear. your shower was long, filled with pockets of thought, regret, and semi-aggressive scrubbing to wash off the gunk sylus hadn’t cleaned. 

if the apartment wasn’t rebuilt soon, you’d have to make a request to carry out your missions more towards the areas surrounding the n109 zone. you wouldn’t be neglecting your work and you’d also have a place to stay. and from your previous conversation with sylus, you had full access to the power and connections onychinus had. you were safe. and he made sure of that.

you smiled to yourself as you stepped out of the shower to find a set of his clothes placed by the door for you. he had learned that you enjoy wearing his clothes so he always left some of his at your apartment whenever he visited. you felt guilty considering all those expensive adornments were now destroyed. he would probably stare at you then order the exact clothes online to show you they were easily replaceable. 

but his brooch– the one he gave to you while you hated him– that always stayed on your person. you took it with you on every mission, assigning it as your lucky charm, your protection charm, and a physical reminder of his permanent presence in your life. he would always be there for you, even if you hate him for it.

you found him in the living room of the house, carrying multiple pillows in his arms as he walked towards the couches. there were blankets, plushies, and an array of snacks lined up on the coffee table. the television was on and paused at the beginning of a film, waiting for you to settle down and binge on anything you would choose.

he motioned for you to join him as he sat on the carpet, reaching out to eat. “the food won’t eat itself.”

you wasted no time to dig in, relentlessly having a bit of everything and you could just tell from the intense flavour that he made it himself. in the background of your shameless consumption, a movie played in a lower volume opening the opportunity for conversation.

you casually slipped the information you had partly overheard while zoning out once the chaos cooled down. sylus carefully listened as he ate, maintaining his attention to your every word.

“and from what we know, ever has been producing those chips,” you added before quickly munching on another spoon of dessert that he baked. oh goodness you loved whenever he made food. “tenebras are also being suspected to be involved. i’m not surprised. the last time a hunter went rogue was a month ago and our codes and systems still haven’t been updated to strengthen security.”

sylus carefully hummed, tapping his finger on the corner of the vintage wooden coffee table. you recognised that habit, along with him fidgeting with a coin as a physical representation of him being in deep thought. if what you heard was mostly accurate to his other suspicions then the attack would be part of a larger scheme.

“but it’s too complex and deep to think about without enough information.” you took the words right out of his mouth. you wiped your mouth with a napkin, shrugging off the tension building in your shoulders. you glanced at your bandaged arm with a slight grimace, still feeling the painful sting of the events earlier that night.

the coffee table was pushed further away from the couches for the two of you to create a makeshift fort comfortable enough for you to rest in. you were tempted to throw a few pillows at him but your physical exhaustion rendered your ambition futile. 

sylus rested on the mini fort, both comfortable and serene. “don’t let this spot get cold, kitten,” he patted his chest and beckoned for you to come down to him. a gentle gust of his evol guided you to draw closer and closer until your legs were tangled with his. 

a giggle erupted from you. “you could have just asked.”

“i did.”

you plopped down beside him, cushioned by the blankets and pillows and the warmth from the room. you shared a momentary silence– it was like it was just the two of you alone in the world. like all your problems were dust against the push and tug of the wind. you felt so secure; so grateful.

“thank you, sylus.”

“there is nothing i wouldn’t do for you.”

your eyes darted to each other’s lips, silently communicating a mutual want. 

“you must remember that you will always have access to everything i own,” sylus muttered, moving closer to you. your lips were less than a breath away. “everything.”

and that included him. you brushed your finger over his temple, eliciting a soft noise to leave his lips– almost like a purr. for someone who relished in calling you a kitten, he seemed more like a cat to you.

you leaned forward, finally closing the gap between your lips. it was a brief, gentle kiss. one of gratitude and adoration. when you pulled away he stared at you, with a flicker of bewilderment crossing his eyes before he returned the gesture– just as a soft, just as delicate but for a second longer. 

enticed eyes and widening smiles were shared in the silence of your giddiness and your lips collided again, this time with your embrace on each other tightening. his hands slowly ventured down to your thighs and guided them to wrap around him to pull you in much closer. he gently nibbled your lips ravaging you like a delicacy that he’d only have once, ensuring he savoured every bit of you. 

your arms coiled around his neck and broad shoulders almost instinctively, tangling your fingers within the dangerously soft tufts of his hair, scratching his head just the way you knew he liked it. he groaned into your lips and automatically pushed his hips into yours, making it very clear that even the simplest touch from you had the power to ignite him with need for you– utter devotion for you. unadulterated love for you and you alone.

“you’re not wearing anything underneath, are you?” he grinned against your lips, kissing your skin from the corner of your lips, to your chin, to the start of your neck, all the way down with a searing swipe of his tongue until he reached your collarbones. his hands gently travelled under his dress shirt, creeping up your abdomen until they reached the swells of your chest and greeted them with a gentle squeeze. you gasped, feeling his touch shoot tingles down your spine and into your core.

“so you aren’t.” 

“i doubt you are either,” you bit back, glancing down at the growing tent between his legs. “considering you changed into grey pants.”

“i like the colour.”

“as if.”

“as if?” his teeth sank into your skin and licked over the sting to soothe it. “i think,” kiss. “it’s just a minor coincidence.” kiss. “like you wearing nothing underneath my clothes.”

you stifled a small yawn. “mm, maybe so.” sylus quickly raised his head, further messing his already ruffled hair.

“you’re tired, kitten.”

“oh, i wonder why.” you deadpanned, not moving from your immense closeness to him. you were so needy to feel him and feel amazing with him, but you were also so exhausted. like hours of sleep would satiate you before you can do anything else.

your eyes began to flutter as sylus’ continued to give you gentle kisses down your chest to your nipples, taking them in his mouth and gently suckling at your hardening nubs. the neglected one was quickly given attention from his large hand, massaging and fondling you with love.

a smooth moan escaped your lips before your next yawn could. sylus’ lips and hands travelled further down until he reached the hem of your– actually his– pants and tugged them down your hips. 

“you don’t have to do anything,” he pressed a wet kiss on your bare skin, sending waves of need right to your clit. his touch would always be able to entice you. “we won’t go too far into it if you’re too tired. i can take care of you in many other ways.”

his crimson eyes slowly looked up to yours. his face was flushed pink from his cheeks to his ears. his gaze on you was painted with pure endearment and adoration. he kissed his way across your hips to your thighs, painting you in his endless affections all the way to your knees. 

“you know how much pleasure i get from simply worshipping you, sweetie?” you wouldn’t have been able to utter a response other than a squeak or a flustered whimper. a deep chuckle erupted from the depths of his throat.

“i get very satisfied from it. your pleasure is my pleasure. and i’m more than happy to take good care of you while you relax for me. may i?” he paused in the midst of his affections. he glanced up to check on why you were silent to find the cutest sight before him.

you were asleep. eyes, half closed but body limp and relaxed above to him. tonight must have really taken a toll on you. or maybe it was the pillow fort being so comfortable that you involuntarily held hands with the influencing whispers of slumber summoning you. either way, it was the most adorable sight he had seen just yet.

“such a sleepy kitten,” he chuckled, moving back up to lie face to face with you. he watched your chest rise and fall for minutes that ran as quickly as seconds. the tranquility in your state of rest was both comforting and beautiful to see. 

it was almost sunrise and even he was becoming more tired. he could perhaps encourage you to stay with him for long– maybe he could go on more missions with you to ensure you aren’t at much risk to be injured as you were today. he’d also have to send some of his people to investigate the targeted attack. he’d rather burn the known universe to a crisp before you ever face an injury like that again.

before he ever risks losing you.

but for now, for the time being, you were with him. alive and well. injured, yes, but alive. that was all that mattered. and the comfort of that alongside you being comfortably coiled in his arms was more than enough for him to invite sleep overcome him.

just for a bit.

[reignpage]

Movie Night

Summary: in which alien!reader asks Gojo to teach her a little something Word Count: 1.8k Warnings: smut, not proofread

Day 7

“What’s wrong, E?”

All fresh from a shower, you and Satoru are sitting in the sofa, watching a movie. He’s finally bought you your own clothes and you’re dressed in a warm jumper and cosy pants. Satoru won’t lie; he’s grieving the pleasure of seeing you drown in his clothes. But you were ecstatic at the sight of the space themed pjs and so he was left with nothing to do but he happy. 

Wrapped under a thick blanket, you’re huddled by his side, clutching his shirt. As with every movie, every night, you ask questions, and he answers as best as he can. He’s insanely grateful that you can understand him when he explains things like what a car is (a moving vehicle) or who Gordon Ramsey is (a famous chef known for being very wrinkly and very angry). It seems that your biggest issue, however, is stringing a full sentence together. 

You’ve been getting much better, accelerating at a rate no human could manage. It’s both impressive and terrifying. 

Right now, you’re tilting your head at a particular scene. Satoru forgot the plot of the money and he really regrets not keeping an eye out for the age rating, because on the screen plays a steamy, kiss scene. 

In fact, ‘kiss’ isn’t even the right word; they’re making out. 

How you both managed to last a week of doing nothing but watch movies without coming across a kiss scene he’ll never know. But the moment’s finally arrived and he is not any more prepared than he was on the first night.

He winces at the sound lips smacking against each other, a blush on his cheeks. A kiss is nothing -- he’s done far more than that, and multiple times. But, for some reason, he’s feeling a little shy. It might have something to do with the fact that you’re staring up at him with your big, curious eyes. 

“What they doing?” You ask. 

Satoru gulps. He’s become painfully aware of how close you are — his arm is trapped between your breasts, just a thin layer separating him from your soft flesh, and, under the blanket, your leg is strung ever so slightly on his thigh. He can smell his shampoo emanating from you with something sweet coursing just under that masculine scent. 

Chuckling uncomfortably, he explains, “They’re kissing.”

“Why?”

He has half a mind to turn the TV off and declare an earlier bedtime, but you look so innocent he feels bad that he was thinking of something indecent. He’s your friend. He can’t prey on you and take advantage of your reliance on him. Plus, how would a kiss between two people from different intergalactic species even work?

Would it be the same? Or does it lead to pregnancy straight away? What if you lay eggs in his mouth? What if he lays eggs in your mouth?

Composing himself, he searches for the right words. “It’s something people do to express their love for each other, I guess. Well, not all the time, actually. Sometimes it’s just for pleasure.”

“Pleasure?”

Why, oh, why did you have to focus on that one word? 

And why on everything that is good in this world is this scene so long?

“It means to feel good.”

The hand clutching his shirt flattens out until it’s feeling the hard planes of his chest and absorbing the vibrations of his heartbeat. You drum your fingers at the same pace, smiling softly. The heat of your hand, of your entire body, is setting his skin alight. Suddenly, it’s too hot under the blanket, there isn’t enough room or air, and he needs to go but he can’t bear to. 

Batting your lashes, you inquire, “How to make pleasure, Toru? How kiss feel good?”

Brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, he corrects you, “It’s, ‘how does kissing make you feel good’, E. Try again for me?”

You taste the words, lips stretching to practice the movement before you parrot back perfectly, “Tell me how kissing makes you feel good, Toru.”

Oh, fuck. 

Why did he make you repeat it in perfect Japanese? Why did he have to use this very moment as a learning opportunity? 

Curse his perfect teaching instincts!

He’s about to shrug you off, using sleepiness as an excuse to retreat, but then you’re leaning even closer, licking your lips and eyeing his. Warmth is spreading through his body, circulating in one particular area and he’s hoping you don’t move your leg any higher otherwise this will turn into a completely different conversation and he’s not certain he could survive giving you an anatomy lesson without getting a nosebleed. 

Licking his own lips, he grazes your cheek with his fingers. The skin he touches glows the very faintest hint of blue. He’s reeling. Up till now, he thought that your skin glows when you’re sleeping, but apparently you also glow when you’re being touched. But this isn’t the first time he’s touched you. 

Was it because before he was trying very, very hard not to stare?

He doesn’t know, and regardless, he can’t stop touching you. Satoru presses on your adorable cheeks to watch it light up, the way his is flushing red. Whispering, he asserts, “I can’t tell you how kissing feels, E.” 

Your hand presses harder against his chest, fingers splaying across the expanse. Subconsciously, he juts it out just a little. And with the most seductive voice, you demand, “Show me then, Toru. Make me feel good?”

Oh, and when you ask like that, how could anyone ever resist you?

There’s a tantalising closeness between you, just a hairsbreadth away from touching. When he finally closes that minuscule gap, a purr like thrum echoes through you. He kisses you, sweet and gentle, simply pressing his lips against yours. There’s nothing human about this, not with the invigorating taste of you, the scalding feel of your skin, and impossible softness of your body on his. 

“This is a kiss?” You mumble.

Chuckling, he says, “No, E. This is.”

With one hand holding the back of your neck, he sucks your bottom lip, unable to help himself from deepening the kiss. You gasp into his mouth, and he dives his tongue in, meeting yours. He knows he should slow down, should let you adjust to a friendly peck before he takes more than you can give, but you taste so good and it’s like he’s drunk. 

There’s a force, a gravitation pull drawing him in. He can’t resist it, can’t fight it, he isn’t even trying. 

You pull back in shock. 

Satoru chases after you, dragging you back in. He kisses you again. Groaning into your mouth, he slides a hand down to your leg, rising up your thigh. You jolt, a shiver running through your body. That electrifying purring hums in the air again and he’s smiling, hand rising and rising until he’s curving against your ass and carrying you over his thighs.

“This feels... I feel...,” you whimper, at a loss for words. 

Squeezing your thighs, he coos, “It’s alright, sweet thing. I’ve got you. You wanted to learn pleasure, right? Who better to teach you than Toru, hmm?”

You shiver again when he whispers that against your neck, nose skimming your jaw and lips curling. He’s inhaling deeply, eyes fluttering close at the weight of your body pressing down on him and your addictive scent. 

He can’t tell if this is all you or if it’s an alien thing, but he doesn’t care. Not in this moment, not when your hips are churning as he sucks at your neck, laying burning kisses against your skin, and watching the blue light dance under your skin. 

“Oh, E,” he sighs. “Are you grinding on me, baby? You want more than just a kiss, is that it? My greedy, greedygirl.”

When your clothed core rubs just right against his throbbing length, you throw your head back, that purring noise a hiss and it vibrates against his cheek as he listens to your rapid heartbeat. He can feel how wet you are; you’re soaking through your panties and pyjama bottoms.

Satoru’s growing dizzy.

One hand guides your hips to gyrate on him whilst the other clutches your throat to pull your lips back to his. Satoru knows he should stop now that he’s already taught you what you asked for, but he can’t. He just can’t. The thrill of going further, of testing your, and his, limits is too much for one man to resist. Even if that man is the strongest sorcerer in the world, even if not a whole gaggle of curses could pose a threat to him. 

“Toru!”

He thrusts upwards the same time he tugs you down and the elongated moan that leaves you, hips stuttering and hands frantically searching for purchase on his broad shoulders, leaves him feeling lightheaded. “That’s it, E. Take what you need.”

Your eyes are flashing blue, a darker hue than his own, and he’s amazed. Everything about you is incredible, like you were created to be his temptation, to be his undoing. Whether aliens have souls or not, he doesn’t know, but he does know that if you did, his and yours would be the same, all blue and perfect. 

Laughing, he leans back, hands simply resting on your thighs as you ride out your orgasm, shocked eyes pleading for explanation, for reason but finding none in his. That purring gets louder and louder, the vibrations stronger now and they’re flowing straight from your soaked pussy and right onto his cock. 

“Oh shit!” Satoru groans, nails digging suddenly. Within seconds, he’s cumming in his boxers, hot cream flooding his underwear from inside at the same time your wetness seeps through on top. “Jesus, E! That’s fucking intense, what the hell.”

He’s panting, eyes shut tightly as he keeps grinding your hips on his cock. 

You slump onto him just as he falls back. You’re completely depleted of energy, and he knows exactly what you’re feeling. Rubbing your back, he presses a kiss to your hair, muttering ‘well done’ and ‘good job’. 

“How was that for pleasure?”

Smacking his chest, you mumble a complaint. “Toru mean.”

He laughs agains.

“Sorry, E. You were just too cute.”

You raise your head, eyes bleary and fluttering shut. You meet his gaze, shaky fingers reaching for his lips and tracing them, all sore and pink, like you’re amazed at him the way he is at you. “Thank you. Kissing is nice.”

“We did a little more than just kissing, E. But sure, you’re welcome,” he chuckles. 

Eventually, you both fall asleep in each other’s arms right there on the sofa, ‘Are You Still Watching’ filling the TV screen and not the movie he can’t even remember the name of, drying cum posing a problem he’ll have to deal with in the morning.

He dreams of sapphire streaks in the air, of giant balls of fire, and an angel descending with its arms outstretched. And he hopes he never wakes up.

[ihrthoney]

[ typing this laying in bed forcing myself to sleep but my brain wants to write so headcanon format it is. ]

thinking about ak!jason who has no idea that after his ‘death’ that you went insane looking for him. but you were no detective, you weren’t in the police field, you were just jason todd’s girlfriend.

but you damn well did everything you could, from begging bruce, to sneaking into offices, looking for nightwing, anything.

you taught yourself to use a gun to search places alone. jason would scold you for doing such a thing for him but you didn’t care, not when you knew he was alive.

you didn’t know.. but your gut feeling told you he was. a body was never found, nothing. you refused to believe it.

“you didn’t find anything? no pieces of his suit? no blood? nothing!?” you screamed and cried at batman, desperate, grieving.

“i’ve looked-“

“no! you didn’t! because if you did look everywhere you would’ve found something! all this technology and you still couldn’t track the location?”

“it’s not that simple.”

“right, because you aren’t the greatest detective in the world”

you tried to distract yourself with work but it was no use, not when you came home opening the spare bedroom door to your mess of a room. papers everywhere, maps, pictures, you would’ve seemed insane to any normal person.

you were exhausted, too many dreams of him in front of you but that’s all it was. dreams.

one night, you felt someone push your hair behind your ear. instantly, like jason taught you, you grabbed the knife under your pillow and went to slash at the intruder but the knife made a thud as it hit the floor.

a hand, gently, wraps around your wrist.

you blink your eyes awake, taking in the person in your home.

jason.

no. it’s another dream.

“you’ve gotta be quicker than that, sweetheart.”

you don’t speak, still taking in what’s going on. the light from the moon just barley shows his face.

“hey don’t cry baby, it’s okay.”

you back away, unable to take another hallucination.

“no.. this isn’t real. you can’t be here. i haven’t found you yet.”

“i’m right here, baby.”

shaking your head, you back into the corner of your bed, making yourself as small as you can.

“no, i have to find him. i have to find jason!”

“look at me, sweet girl.”

you can’t tear your face from your arms, so he softly pulls your face up with both hands, wiping your tears,

“i’m right here. i’m not going anywhere ever again.”

the closer he is, the more you notice the difference in his features.

the j on his face, the scars, but his eyes,

his sweet beautiful eyes still look at you with love.

“i’m so sorry.” you give in, real or not, you hug him.

he hates it, after everything he’s been through he can’t take the affection. but for you? for you he’d do anything.

so he lets you cry into him, squeezing him tight, even if he can’t be the jason you loved, he holds you all the same.

sobbing into his chest, “i tried so hard to find you”

“i know you did sweetheart, i saw the room. but it wasn’t your job to find me.”

“don’t say that, you’re the love of my life. i would rather die than stop looking.”

“you did good.”

“i didn’t. you still had to find me.”

“i’d climb out of my grave and crawl back home to you, i’ll always find you.”

“please don’t let this be a dream.”

“i’m right here.”

he holds you until the sun rises, rocking back and forth slightly. he’ll tell you about it all later, for now, he just wants you close.

edit: i will be making this into a fic later ;p

[seumyo]

I WANT TO BE FOREVER YOUNG

PROMPT. How they mourn when you were gone too soon. You did worry about getting old, didn’t you?

FEATURING. Midoriya I., Bakugou K., Todoroki S., Shinsou H.

NOTE. I’m testing the waters with angst content + formatting style for multiple drabbles—so forgive me if it’s not that good!

MIDORIYA IZUKU — Sees you in someone else.

Midoriya Izuku found passion in teaching. It’s a life-changing job that molds each and every student into the person they want to become with the help of people like him.

His students, vibrant and full of life, were so much like his old classmates—and among them was Takashiro Ayane, her laughter light and melodic as she teased one of her friends about their clumsy landing during training.

It reminded him of someone. Someone close.

You.

And the thought always came to him, even when he didn’t mean to. Even at the most random times.

Ayane’s resemblance to you was uncanny. It wasn’t just her kindness or the gentle way she spoke; it was in the way she held herself, her subtle but unwavering resolve. Midoriya could see flashes of you in her—the friend who had once been a constant source of warmth in his turbulent journey at U.A. High.

As Ayane reached up to adjust her headband, smiling brightly, Midoriya felt a pang in his chest. The sight was like a memory brought to life, a reminder of your soft-spoken encouragement and the way she always stood firm despite her fears.

God, it felt like seeing you all over again.

“Sensei!” another student called out, pulling him back to the present. “Did you see that move? I think it might actually work in combat! Or support, if I feel like it.”

Midoriya blinked, shaking off the haze of memories. “Y-Yeah, it looked great!” he replied, mustering enthusiasm. “Your timing’s improving a lot—keep it up!”

He tried to push the thought aside, focusing on the here and now, but it was no use. The resemblance was too striking, and his heart felt heavy with the weight of unspoken grief. You were gone, after all. Gone too soon.

As the students broke into laughter again, something about the carefree sound and the dynamic of his students triggered a reflex. Without thinking, he spoke, his voice soft yet audible enough to be heard.

“[First Name], I—”

Your name left his lips before he realized it, and the world seemed to freeze. The students fell silent, their laughter replaced by curious stares. Ayane tilted her head; confusion could be seen in her face.

Midoriya’s heart sank as he realized his mistake. He quickly forced a smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I mean Takashiro,” he corrected, craning a hand to the back of his neck.

“Sorry about that. Guess I’m more tired than I thought.”

The students exchanged glances, a few offering polite chuckles before moving on. The moment passed, yet for Midoriya, the weight of it lingered. He stayed behind as the students began their walk back to the main building, his gaze fixed on the ground.

Everything came flooding in his mind. Like a relentless tide that swept him away. Your jokes, your laugh, and the countless little moments that had defined your friendship.

He hadn’t spoken your name aloud in years, not since your passing. Now, saying it felt like reopening an old wound, one he had carefully avoided for so long. But he could only do so much avoidance ‘til he has to terms with it.

“Sensei?”

The gentle voice startled him, and he looked up to see Ayane standing a few steps away. Her expression was concerned; her head tilted slightly as she studied him.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly. “You seemed... distracted earlier.”

Midoriya hesitated. The words caught in his throat as he wrestled with how to respond. How could he explain to his student that she reminded him of his dead friend?

What kind of teacher would he be if he were to say that? The awful, grieving kind, he bets.

“I’m fine, Takashiro,” he said finally, forcing a smile. “Just a little tired, that’s all. You know how these long training sessions can be.”

She didn’t look entirely convinced but nodded anyway. “If you ever need to talk, Sensei... we’re here for you too. Fighting!”

“Midoriya, grow a spine! Fighting!”

Her words hit too close to home.

“Thank you,” he could only murmur.

Ayane lingered for a moment before turning to join her classmates. He remained there, rooted to the spot as the sun began to dip lower in the sky. The golden light bathed the empty training grounds, and the silence felt heavier than usual.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice breaking slightly. “I’ve tried to move on, but I see you everywhere. In everything. In everyone.”

His hands clenched into fists at his sides, a mix of regret and longing washing over him. “You were right about so many things,” he continued, his voice barely audible. “I just wish you were here to see it—to see how far we’ve all come.”

But you weren’t here anymore, and that’s the problem.

Bakugou Katsuki — Mourns you longer than he’d known you.

Cemeteries never brought discomfort to Bakugou. Not until you died, that is.

The place stretches out in solemn silence; the faint rustle of leaves in the hedges are the only sounds he heard as he trudged along the familiar gravel path. His boots made dull, deliberate crunches against the fallen leaves, the heaviness of his steps matching the weight in his chest.

In his hands, he carried the usual offerings: a bouquet of red spider lilies tied neatly with a ribbon, a box of your favorite sweet treats—melon pan today—and the incense sticks he always lit with care. It had been years since your passing, but for Bakugou, the loss felt as raw as if it had been yesterday.

He approached your gravestone, its surface polished and pristine, just as he always left it. Your name was etched into the stone with delicate precision, the sight of it both grounding and crushing. As if to remind him that you weren’t coming back because you’re just here, waiting for someone to visit you.

Bakugou knelt, his movements stiff and reluctant, as though even now he couldn’t fully accept your absence. Why can’t he accept it?

“Yo, dummy,” he muttered under his breath, pulling the lilies from their wrapping and placing them carefully at the vase near the gravestone. He adjusted them twice, three times, until they looked just right. His eyes lingered on the name etched into the cold stone, a bitterness creeping into his tone.

“Brought your damn flowers again. Hope you appreciate it.”

The sarcasm in his words was thinly veiled; beneath it lay the unmistakable ache of someone who had loved and lost far too deeply.

He pulled out the incense sticks next, lighting them with a practiced flick beneath his palm. You would’ve loved to see him do it in person; maybe light up a candle or two when the power goes out during your high school dorm days. The smell of sandalwood quickly mingled with the damp earth, and Bakugou leaned back on his heels, staring at the curling smoke.

“Another week down,” he began, his voice quieter now. “Another round of saving people, making headlines, being the ‘Great Dynamight.’ ” He spat the title out like it was poison.

“It’s what you always said I’d do, isn’t it? Go big; make my mark. But, damn it, [Last Name], none of it means anything without you here to see it.”

He clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms as the familiar wave of guilt and frustration washed over him. His head dipped as he let out a long, ragged breath.

“I thought time was supposed to make this easier,” Bakugou admitted, his voice rough. “It’s been... what? Seven years now? And every damn day, it still feels like you’re just gonna show up out of nowhere, like you’re gonna annoy the hell outta me with one of your stupid jokes.”

The thought made his lips twitch into the barest hint of a smile, though it was laced with sadness. He could almost hear your voice—that gentle yet persistent tone you’d use whenever she tried to drag him along to something.

“C’mon, Bakugou, I’ll need someone to bail me out of jail! You’ll regret it if you don’t come along.”

And you were right. He regretted it now. Every single refusal, every grumbled excuse, every moment he could’ve spent with you and didn’t.

“You were annoying as hell,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “But you were... you were good. Too good.” His fists loosened, his hands falling limply to his sides.

“And you didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve to go like that.” Bakugou remembers the time he almost stained his conduct by almost killing the villain that got to you.

It’s unfair, isn’t it? The villain got to live behind bars, while you lost yours.

The wind picked up, rustling the leaves in the trees above. Bakugou tilted his head back, glaring up at the overcast sky as though it were to blame for everything.

“They don’t tell you how much it fucking hurts,” he said bitterly. “To lose someone like you. They don’t tell you that the longer it’s been, the harder it gets, ‘cause every year just reminds me of how much more I’ve missed. How much quicker I could’ve been.”

He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small, weathered notebook. It was yours, something your family had found amongst your belongings after you passed. They wanted him to have it since his name was always frequently mentioned. The edges were frayed, the pages creased from countless readings, but it was his most treasured possession.

Bakugou would rather die than even let a single drop of water meet one of its pages.

Flipping it open, he scanned your handwriting, some neat and some looking as though you couldn’t be bothered with basic penmanship. He stopped on a page that always gutted him.

Life’s short. Spend it with the people who matter. Don’t let moments slip away! :P

His thumb brushed over the words, his jaw tightening.

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed. “You don’t have to keep reminding me, you know. I get it. Too late, but I get it.”

He placed the notebook on the gravestone, letting it rest there for a moment before tucking it back into his pocket. His hand lingered on the cold stone, his fingers tracing the engraved letters of your name.

“You were supposed to stick around,” he said softly. “Supposed to keep bugging me, keep dragging me out of my own damn head. Now I’m stuck here, talking to a rock, and it’s not the same. It’ll never be the same.”

The clouds began to part, a faint beam of sunlight breaking through and casting a soft glow over the gravestone. Bakugou stared at it, his eyes unreadable. He’s thinking.

“I’ll keep coming back,” he finally said, his voice steadier now.

“Every week, every month, every damn year. You’re not gonna be forgotten. Not by me.”

He stood slowly, his body heavy with exhaustion and grief. Adjusting the incense sticks and flowers one last time, he stepped back, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“See you next time, dummy,” he murmured, his voice low. “Don’t forget about me or whatever, whever you are.”

As Bakugou walked away, the wind carried the faint scent of incense and the quiet promise of a man who would mourn you longer than he’d ever known you.

TODOROKI SHOUTO — Learns things that reminded him of you.

Todoroki knows that he’s been busy. It’s in the way the white camellias he brought you months ago are now wilted, showing their dried-up state. His fingers brush against the wilted petals, lingering as if to apologize for not visiting sooner.

“I still remember the last thing you said to me,” he murmured, his voice soft yet filled with an ache he couldn’t quite put into words. “It wasn’t even anything serious—just you scolding me for not eating enough during lunch. You were always so good at taking care of me, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

He glanced down, the corners of his lips twitching into a faint, bittersweet smile. The image of you—scolding, your hands on your hips as you tried to hide your worry—was etched so vividly into his memory that he could almost hear your voice.

Todoroki’s gaze traveled to the offerings he had brought with him: a fresh bouquet of camellia, a neatly folded scarf he had knitted in one of his new hobbies that he took up classes for, and a small pack of your favorite matcha-flavored sweets. “I know you’d laugh at me for picking up knitting,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “But... it’s calming. I think you’d appreciate that. You always said I needed to find something that made me happy outside of being a hero.”

The scarf was simple, a pale green color that reminded him of the shade you loved wearing. He had spent hours perfecting it, thinking of how you might have joked about him for being so precise yet ultimately praised his effort.

“I hope you’d like it,” he whispered, setting it down carefully beside the gravestone. “I thought about giving it to someone else, but it felt wrong. It’s yours.”

Todoroki draws in a breath, closing his eyes, letting the stillness of the place envelop him. Yet in the quiet, his mind raced with so many thoughts all at once.

“I also learned how to cook,” he tells you—he tells your grave. “It’s not as good as yours, but Bakugou’s been helping.”

He thought of your childhood, how you had been his only light during the dark days of his father’s strict training. How you had been this bubbly girl that the teacher often praised, how you had stood by him when he was still new to making friends at the nursery, offering him a hand when he thought he didn’t deserve one.

“You were the best person I knew. And I pushed you away. You didn’t deserve that, [Last Name]. You were my friend when I didn’t know how to be one back.”

The pain of those words hung heavy in the air, and Todoroki’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. He had spent years replaying your interactions, wishing he had done things differently. If he had done things differently, you would’ve been here, probably teasing him for taking up chopstick-making classes.

“I was so angry back then,” he confessed, his gaze fixed on the gravestone. “At my father, at myself, at the world. And I took it out on you, the one person who never stopped trying to help me. I told myself I didn’t need anyone, but... I needed you.”

Another tear slipped down his cheek, and he hastily wiped it away, frustrated by the way his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. He was the Number Two Hero now, a symbol of strength and perseverance. Yet here, in front of you, he felt like the lost, broken little boy that longed for his first friend.

“I need you now, please.”

The sound of a bird chirping nearby pulled him from his thoughts, and he glanced up at the sky. The sun was setting, casting a hue that reminded him of your warmth.

You did like sunsets, didn’t you?

“You’d probably scold me for crying,” he said with a faint chuckle, though his voice still wavered. “You always hated seeing me upset. But I think it’s okay this time. You’re worth crying over.”

He knelt down again, his fingers brushing over the engraved letters of your name.

“Shoucchan! You can’t cry! We can be partners—the best partners!”

Yes, partners. The best partners for as long as you’ll have him.

“I’m trying to live the way you wanted me to,” he continued. “To find happiness outside of being a hero. To be someone you’d be proud of. But it’s hard, [Last Name]. It’s hard without you.”

He stayed there for what felt like hours, speaking to you as though you were sitting beside him, as though your gentle presence could somehow reach across the veil of death. He told you about his hero work, about the classes he was taking, about the little moments of joy he tried to find in a life that often felt too heavy.

Finally, as the sun dipped below the horizon, he rose to his feet. His knees ached from kneeling for so long, but he barely noticed.

“I’ll come back,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the tears that still shimmered in his eyes. “And I won’t let you wait so long again. Next time, I’ll bring something better than just a flower. Maybe one of those awful paintings you always said I should make.”

As he turned to leave, he hesitated, glancing back at the gravestone one last time. As if you’d be there with open arms, waiting for him.

“Thank you,” he whispered, the words carrying a weight that only you could understand.

He walked away slowly, the sound of his footsteps fading into the stillness. The cemetery grew quiet once more, the only reminder of his visit the small offerings left behind—silent testaments to a bond that even death could not sever.

SHINSOU HITOSHI — Avoidance by all means necessary, until he finally caves in.

If you were to ask Shinsou what his prized possession was, he’ll tell you that it’s a shoe box. A shoe box that seemed to hold the world—your world, with remnants of a friendship that had lasted his entire life—a lifetime with you.

Shinsou sat on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands hovering over the box as though touching it might shatter him. He had been avoiding this moment for weeks. The funeral had been a blur, the condolences—a cacophony of words that didn’t mean anything because he knew that they couldn’t possibly understand how it feels. Everyone seemed to know the right things to say, except him.

All he had wanted was for you to be there, to laugh at how awkward he was with the whole ordeal.

Now, it was just silence.

With a deep breath, he finally reached into the box, pulling out the first item: a knitted scarf, a rich shade of violet. It was slightly uneven, the handiwork amateur at best, but it was one of the first gifts you’d ever made for him. He could still remember your smile when you handed it over during your middle school years.

“I thought it’d look good on you,” you had said, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Don’t laugh! It’s my first try. Nuh uh, I’m taking this back—Hitoshi!”

He hadn’t laughed. Ok, maybe just a quiet chuckle, but he had worn it every winter since.

He leaned forward again, staring into the box. Inside were the tokens of a life intertwined with his—handmade crafts, small souvenirs, and letters tied with ribbons in colors you knew he liked. Each item was a story, a piece of you you had given him, never expecting you would be taken away so soon.

He gently picked up a small ceramic cat figurine, its paint slightly chipped. It was from one of your family trips abroad.

“I saw this and thought of you!”

Younger Shinsou blinked, confused.

“Me?”

You nodded. “You’re like this cat. All serious, but secretly soft and comforting.”

Shinsou chuckled softly at the memory, though the sound was tinged with sadness. He had teased you for it back then, calling it tacky, but it had ended up on his desk at home. Now, it felt like a sacred relic.

Setting the figurine down, he reached for another item. Shinsou pulled out a small, framed photo of the two of you at a summer festival. He was scowling at the camera while you grinned beside him, holding up two sticks of cotton candy. It was one of the rare times you had dragged him out, insisting he needed to “experience life beyond his walls” when he just wanted to sleep in.

He’d go to every summer festival in the country—even if it meant losing sleep—as long as he gets to do it with you.

The frame trembled slightly in his grip as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

He pulls out a well-worn journal. It was yours. He hesitated, knowing that opening it would feel both comforting and unbearably painful. After a moment, he gave in, flipping through the pages.

Inside were your thoughts—notes about school, sketches of the two of them, and half-finished poems you had written during quiet afternoons.

The prince has been so stressed lately.

I wish I could take it all away.

He deserves the world, but he won’t let himself believe it.

Maybe one day he’ll see himself the way I do.

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. You had always been like that—putting everyone else first, even when you had your own struggles. He closed the journal and held it to his chest, his breath shaky.

“I should’ve told you,” he whispered. “I should’ve told you how much you meant to me.”

The tears that had been threatening to fall finally spilled over, sliding down his cheeks as he sat there in the coming twilight. He thought back to the nights they had spent stargazing, sharing their dreams and fears. You had been his constant, his answer, his light, even when he didn’t know he needed one.

His phone buzzed again, a reminder that the world kept moving even when his had stopped. He glanced at the screen—it was a message from his secretary.

Meeting tomorrow at 9, Sir. You told me to remind you.

Shinsou scoffed bitterly, tossing the phone aside. Work didn’t matter right now. Nothing did.

He looked back into the box and pulled out a small, intricately folded paper crane. He had almost forgotten about it. It was from your high school years, during a particularly tough exam season.

“This is for luck,” you had said, carefully handing it to him with an awed expression. “And if it doesn’t work, at least it’s cute, right?”

He remembered stuffing it into his pocket, too embarrassed to admit how much it meant to him at the time. Now, it felt like a lifeline.

As he unfolded the crane carefully, a note inside revealed itself. The ink was slightly faded, but your handwriting was unmistakable.

You’re going to be amazing. Always.

A choked sob escaped him, and he clenched the note tightly in his fist. You had believed in him, even when he hadn’t believed in himself. He wished he could’ve seen this sooner.

When it got dark, Shinsou didn’t bother turning on the lights. The silence felt appropriate—a space for his grief to exist without judgment.

“I miss you,” he confessed, his voice trembling. “I don’t even know how to keep going without you.”

He glanced at the small collection of gifts and letters spread out on the table. Each one was a reminder of the life you two had shared—a life you had enriched with your thoughtfulness and love.

Though the pain was overwhelming, Shinsou knew he couldn’t let your memory fade. You had given him so much, and the least he could do was honor you by living the way you would have wanted—fully and without regret.

“I’ll keep going,” he said softly, almost as if speaking to you. “You’d probably get mad if I slept in.”

The room remained quiet, save for the faint sound of the wind outside. But for Shinsou, it felt as though you were still there, your presence lingering in every corner of his heart.

SEUMYO © 2025, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[wonderjanga]

Accessories

The twins couldn’t believe it. They had gotten news that after nearly five years their father‘s body, or rather it was left it, had been somehow pulled from the tomb. So, Billy and Mary were allowed to collect some of the things from the body.

Billy and Mary: *walking over to the collection site*

Coworker 1: “The Batson twins?”

Billy and Mary: *pause and look over to Coworker 1*

Coworker 1: “My god you two are all grown up.”

Mary: “Do we know you…?” *shares a look with Billy*

Coworker 1: “Ah you were probably too young to remember. I was a work friend of your father’s. I met you both when you were babies.”

Coworker 2: *walks over* “So did I!”

Billy: “Oh cool…” *sounds awkward and shares another look with Mary*

Billy and Mary didn’t know that all the people there were either friends of C.C. or Marilyn. They didn’t know that this entire thing was basically turned into a sort of funeral, seeing as none of their friends got to go to C.C.’s. The people were nice though. Most had flocked to them, telling the twins stories about their father and mother which everyone was honestly grateful for. It made the entire thing hurt less for them.

Coworker 2: “But anyways, are you two here to collect the stuff from the body?”

Billy: “Yeah.” *nods head*

Coworker 1: “Well, it’s just over there.” *points in a direction*

Mary and Billy: “Thank you.” *in unison*

Coworker 1: “No problem.”

Coworker 1 & 2: *watch the twins go*

Coworker 2: “Those poor kids.”

After this, neither of the twins could bring themselves to go out in their Marvel forms for about a week. A direct result of their grieving was that everyone was concerned about where the two superheroes had gone. For the Fawcitizens, they were worried sick about their lovable heroes. For the JL, one of the sunniest person they know, and one their heaviest hitters just up and disappeared and isn’t answering his comm. For the YJ, one of their kindest and lovable members poofed and was gone. For magic users, their Champion just vanished. And for the Marvels’ villains, they were confused because the imbeciles they fight nearly every week didn’t seem like the type of people to just abandon their post. Safe to say, it threw a lot of people off.

Meanwhile, Billy and Mary are looking at the things C.C. had with him during his last moments. The man only had his wedding ring and a pair of now broken glasses. The backpack he had been spotted with before going into the tomb was nowhere to be found. So, now with these two items were in the twins’ possession, they decided to do something with them. Billy put the string on some yarn he got from an old lady a couple doors down, and as for the glasses, he and Mary pooled as much money as they could to get the frame fixed, thankfully getting a discount because the glasses fixer had a soft spot for kids. They didn’t care for the lenses because they remember their mother saying something about how C.C.’s vision was absolutely terrible. Billy now lets the ring hang around his neck from the yarn and Mary wears the glasses on her head since they’re too big for her face.

Unfortunately for them, they couldn’t grieve forever. Black Adam showed up in Fawcett and literally demanded they come out of hiding. So they did, or at least Billy did. He let Mary stay home.

Black Adam: “There you are.”

Marvel: *waves to Adam* “Heeeey… Sorry I’ve been gone for a bit. I’ve been busy.”

They fought like usual, and everything was going normal until…

Marvel: *punches Adam in the face*

Black Adam: *skids back and his hand went to his face*

Marvel: *confused because he’s seen him shrug of worse*

Black Adam: *moves and there’s a nice ring mark on his face*

Marvel: *jaw slightly drops and looks to the hand he punched him with*

Yup, for some reason, the ring translated to his Marvel form. (The Gods were feeling like causing drama) He honestly felt so bad for Adam because the mark looks like it’s going to welt. They wrapped up the fight soon after that. The fight was caught on the news and everyone was happy Cap was back, although they were still concerned as to why Mary hadn’t appeared. They were hoping she’d come back too.

Eventually though, someone pointed out the wedding ring. That was how everyone collectively came to the conclusion that Marvel had been gone because he was getting married. Everyone was then collectively distraught. Like the JL are upset because Marvel didn’t invite them, let alone mention it. The YJ are upset because Mary didn’t tell them she was leaving. They also would’ve liked to be invited too. As for the simps and or stans? All screaming, crying, and throwing up.

After fighting Black Adam, the twins decided to get back into heroics. When Mary transforms now, she gets to wear her father’s glasses. (Her Gods just wanted her to look more like a cutie patootie) Everyone was eating up the new look. The two decided to clear the air with their friends too.

At the Watchtower…

Marvel: *sitting at a meeting table being bombarded*

Flash: “Dude I invited you to my wedding! Is the sentiment not the same??” *sounds completely betrayed*

Marvel: *confused* “Wha-”

Supes: “I invited you to mine too!”

Billy ended up having to make a flimsy excuse that no one believed. As for Mary…

M’gann: “Mary? You went to a wedding? Why didn’t you tell us??”

Mary: “What do you mean? Marvel and I just went on a little adventure that got out of hand.” *all calm and stuff*

Kid Flash: “What about the ring?”

Mary: “What ring- Oooh the ring. Marvel just wanted to accessorize. Trust.”

Also, as for how C.C.’s body hadn’t just been dust? Here are a couple solutions you can choose from: This AU isn’t a time bubble AU, or this AU is a time bubble AU but since the tomb held Black Adam, it’s remaining magical properties slowed down the decomposition rate of C.C.’s body, or the wizard did something and that slowed the decomposition rate, or something else, which I would LOVE to hear yall’s ideas.

[watermelonsloth]

I think the reason why Naruto fans get so passionate and upset about the series is because of how real it can be. Naruto isn’t about paragon heroes outdoing dastardly villains. It’s about human beings fighting tooth and nail to survive in a world surrounded by death. It’s about broken systems made and perpetuated by broken people.

The Hyuga clan isn’t just antagonistic or pretentious, they practice slavery.

The Uchiha clan weren’t just killed by some raging psychopath, they were systematically massacred.

Itachi isn’t just cruel to Sasuke because he’s a bad brother, he’s cruel because he’d been told time and time again that you can only survive by being cruel and he wants nothing more than for Sasuke to survive.

Nagato isn’t trying to take over the world just for the sake of power, he’s trying to take over the world because it beat him down to the point of believing that the only chance at peace there is is the world being forced into compliance through fear.

Iruka isn’t hard on Naruto just because he’s a strict teacher, he’s hard on Naruto because he knows from experience how unforgiving the world is towards orphans.

Kakashi isn’t just some silly and slightly lazy teacher, he’s a contract killer still grieving his loved ones and struggling to do better without knowing how he’s supposed to.

Sakura isn’t just a fangirl, she’s a normal girl in a very dangerous and abnormal world constantly being made to choose between what she’s supposed to do and what she feels.

Sasuke isn’t just some edgelord, he’s a survivor who lost everything then gets repeatedly told that he has to choose between keeping what he’s gained and doing better than his brother.

Naruto isn’t just trying to be the best Hokage there ever was, he’s trying to prove his worth to a society that abandoned him just for existing and, in a way, confirm his worth to himself.

The Naruto story is about humans trying to force themselves into the role of weapons because that’s what they were told they had to be. It’s a story where everyone is a perpetrator but no one is trying to do wrong. It’s a story where everyone is a victim but no one is a perfect victim.

The world and the characters aren’t simple and trying to simplify them only takes away from them. So of course we get passionate about showing off all the reasons why they shouldn’t be simplified and all of the ways they’re complicated. Of course we get upset when we see others simplifying them or selling certain aspects of their characters short. Of course we get upset when the series itself simplifies them. Of course we get upset when the series chooses to abandon them. Because it not only feels like the characters are giving up, it feels like the series is betraying anyone who chose to get invested in its complexities.

[freshbakedbreadstick]

The Physicalities of Grief - Season 2 Arcane Viktor x F!Reader

Season 2 Arcane Viktor x F!Reader

Summary (SPOILERS): It's hard to grieve someone when their not really gone.

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. HEAVY SPOILERS OF SEASON 2 ACT 1 OF ARCANE!! BE WARNED! Reader is described as having a vagina and uses she/her pronouns. Reader’s backstory is kept vague but is mentioned to be from Zaun (the Undercity), worked with Jayce and Viktor, and was childhood friends with Viktor. Mentions of masturbation, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, heavy grief, angst (not a breadstick fanfic if there isn’t angst), bad coping with grief and emotions, grief horniness LMAO, spoilers, brief fear that someone broke into your place, slightly improper use of his powers (not really use tho more like hinting at it), brief mention of vomiting but not in detail (!!), this is basically shameless PWLP (porn with little plot) that i'm using to cope ok? 

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: Unfortunately i am using Arcane Season 2 as a form of escapism bc i am not ok (context , i live in the US and i am a woman of color , , , , enough said ) anyways i am a Viktor stan and i love him SO SO SO much anyways AS PROMISE HERE IT IS ! LMAO i can't wait for act 2 to come out ! ! ! ! ENJOY ! (awhhh doesnt he look so normal in season 1 ?)

It feels like all you have ever known was this feeling.

This feeling of… swelling and crashing waves of anger and sadness. Of overwhelming crying screams, of bubbling tears that blind you, of aching emptiness that makes your joints feel sore and body retch after every meal.

Mel had to remind you that you were grieving, but you could see the way Jayce looked at her, shaking his head softly when she spoke. 

“He isn’t dead,” he would whisper once Mel would leave, but you could only weakly utter “Then why does it feel like he is?”

He never knew what to say to that, just stepping back, face falling. 

It was ridiculous at this point, the way he looked at you with… almost pity. You were sick of it. Everytime he came to you, updating you on the latest findings while you laid in bed, pathetically. Feeling like a waste as he went from spending hours in the lab, working beside his friend’s body encased in who knows what, to desperately fighting you to get you to eat something, anything.  

You felt like a burden, like a waste of a mind and body that was once so ambitious and passionate, moving around the lab to help with whatever you could get your hands on.

“I’m useless,” you would whisper to yourself in the cover of dark, chest empty and eyes red and dry. 

But his words… his words hurt the most. 

“Please eat something, anything!” He cried, trying to ever so gently pin your arms down as he lifted a small cup of soup to your face. 

“No Jayce, no! Stop it!” You cried, barely able to flail against him. 

“I need you to eat something, please! You can't keep going on like this!” His voice cracked. 

You pushed his hands away, successfully hitting the cup and making it clatter and crash to the floor. 

Both of you flinched, pausing mid movement to hear the sound of the porcelain shattering into millions of pieces. 

Stillness for a few seconds. Peace from him for a few seconds. 

Until his voice brought you back. 

“...Viktor would've wanted you to eat… to keep going…” 

It made your eyes burn, chest tightening, throat closing. It made your heart race, limbs suddenly energized for the first time in days, feeling ready to run marathons. 

Did Viktor feel this way the first time he touched the hexcore?

You shoved him away with surprising strength, making Jayce yell and fall to the ground, his arm moving up to shield himself. 

Leaping from bed, you yanked the sheets around yourself, heavy and dark fabric covering the weakness of your flesh from sight. 

“You have no idea what he would've wanted!” Your throat burned as you screamed, lips twisted into a sneer as you glared at him on the floor.

He couldn't even bear to look at you. Coward.

Paled hands moved to claw at your bedside table, yanking the drawers open. You yanked things out, throwing them to find it. Where is it?

Where is it? Where is it? Where is it?

Then you felt it. Soft beneath your fingertips, the embroidered ‘V' he asked you to add onto it scratching your skin ever so slightly. It made you pause, mind rushing and mouth rushing even faster.

“Better yet, you knew what he wanted and still went against him!” Your voice quivered as you yelled at Jayce.

Jayce gasped softly, head jerking back. 

“W-what friend you are,” You stuttered, tears rushing back into your eyes and making your voice sound watery. You felt stupid. 

Jayce’s breath hitched, his mouth opened to respond but you were too quick. You grasped the red fabric into your hands and rushed off, snatching your shoes on before you ran out the door with a choked sob, Jayce yelling out your name as you did so. 

Your body ached as you ran, running into corners and slamming into walls you didn’t sense as you rounded hallways. Your body feverish, only shivered when you stepped out into the chill of the quiet darkness of the supposed city of progress.

Your lungs ached as you ran, panting and gasping between cries. You ran and ran, stumbling and nearly collapsing as you made your descent.

Down, down, down… to the city you knew too well. 

Back home. 

You tucked the blanket closer as you rounded corners with ease, effortless as you hopped over piles of trash and twisted into darkened alleys, avoiding the sounds of twisted laughs and growls. 

You nearly ran into the door of your little old home, scratching at your neck to yank the necklace into the light of the partially broken street lamps. A trembling hand shoved the key into the lock, tugging yourself to press your cheek against the cold door with a hiss. 

It was hard to tell what you were doing in the darkness of the studio, staggering as you closed the door and moved around, getting bruises as you ran into old furniture and beat up tables. You cried out, howling in pain as you made your way toward your bed, hidden in the back of the room. 

One hand reached out, feeling the end of the furniture with heavy pants, eyes wide and barely able to make it out. But it was there, sturdy and reliable, the scent of comfort, of home, reaching your nose as you collapsed onto it, bursting out in wails.

The bed creaked as your body shook, the utter power of your lament echoing in the darkness of the room, red fabric clutched to your chest. 

You could smell him, smell the mixture of coffee, toast, and the unmistakable scent of the lab. 

You cried louder, rattling the windows with each sound as you held the fabric he used to tie his tie, nose buried into it. But it did nothing to muffle you, nothing to withhold the sounds of your cries. 

It felt like days passed before you passed out, falling unconscious without a second thought. 

But when you finally woke, it was dark again. 

Body aching, you sat up in with a heaved breath, wincing at the pain that echoed throughout your being. It was hardly bearable, making you sigh as you realized that you finally did it, you pushed yourself too much and rendered yourself alone, sleeping the day away.

You felt like a ghost skirting around your home, blanket clutched around your form and hand clutching the red fabric to your chest with paled knuckles. Feet made soft sounds as you stomped, using all your strength to collapse onto the sink, holding onto the ledge as you stretched, one hand opening the tap and lips greedily sucking in the water that came down.

You knew that you would probably regret this later, Zaun’s tap water was not meant to be drunk without extra precautions made to ensure it was clean. Afterall, this wasn’t Piltover, where you could drink fresh water from the tap without worry. 

You remembered the way your mother would have to boil it over the fire as a child, wincing as you drank the warm water after running circles around your childhood best friend, who would laugh and watch with a sad glint in his eyes as you did so. All you wanted was fresh, cold water after sweating, throat scratchy and knees scraped with a wonder only a child could possess. 

It made you want to cry again, as your familiar scratchy throat was soothed by the cool water, if only temporarily. 

Your hand barely had the strength to push the faucet shut, slipping onto your knees soon after. 

The fabric pressed against your nose, darkening under the tears that slipped and hit it on its way down your cheeks. Burnt toast… coffee… metal. Burnt toast, coffee, metal. Burnt toast, coffee, metal, Jayce. Burnt toast, coffee, metal, Jayce, you. 

You crawled back into bed, grunting and groaning as your limbs screamed, desperate for you to stop and give up. ‘Forget it, you're alone now’ they said, desperate for a break. 

“Just… let me get to the bed… please,” you heard your gravely voice whisper out, begging yourself.

“...I’ll quit once I get to bed… please…”

‘Fine,’ you told yourself. 

Crumpled there on the sheets, you encased yourself with the blanket like a body laid to rest among the flowers, eyes closed and breathing getting slower. You could hear chatter from just beyond the walls, the sound of people chattering before rushing off, the occasional argument either followed by commotion or silence. It soothed you like a lullaby, as it soothed all children of the undercity. 

But as a fight breaks out nearby, harsh voices echoing the sounds of punches, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried desperately to think of something else. 

Like the day he convinced you to go with him to Piltover.

“Come with me,” he whispered, hand extended out to you, amber eyes glinting with hope for what this opportunity would bring.

“Oh Viktor,” you whispered aloud, voice breaking just like in the memory.

“Please,” he said, brows creasing. 

“But will I fit in? Will they accept me?” you murmured, holding your own hand, looking between his hand to his eyes.

“They accept me,” he breathed.

“That’s because you are a scientist.”

He scoffed, “Do not reduce yourself to utility, regardless of where you come from, you deserve to live amongst them.”

“But they will stare at me like… like I'm trash.”

“Nothing we aren’t used to already… besides… I need you there.”

Your breath hitched.

“You do?” you whispered to yourself, hand clutched to the fabric rising to press it against your nose again. 

Eyelids softened as you thought of the way he smiled, chuckling softly at your bewildered face, smooth voice like melody that made goosebumps spread across your skin as he said, “Of course I need you…”

You didn’t even realize your free hand had inched its way down your torso until your fingertips hit the waistband of your bottoms, making you freeze up, eyes snapping open to stare into the inky darkness.

You panted, chest rising and falling. 

“No…” you whispered, “N-no, no I… I can't.”

“Of course you can,” his voice echoed in your brain, smooth as a ray of sunlight, “Whatever it is you're worried about, I'll help you.”

Finally, your hand fell into his. He pulled you close, so close, that his eyes flickering onto yours felt like it had replaced the sun and the moon, “Come with me.”

Trembling, your hand pushed under the waistband and under your undergarments, fingers tracing over your mound before dipping down to the unabashed wetness of your core. 

You gasped, chest tightening. 

“No,” you whispered into the fabric. 

Burnt toast, coffee, metal.

Your fingers glided down, hips rising and legs spreading, skin so so hot under your touch. With a smooth swipe, the wetness gathered itself on your fingertip, moving to ever so gently press against your throbbing clit.

It made you whine, voice muffled by the fabric held tight against your hand. 

“No please…” you whispered once more, your resolve slipping as you thought of those amber eyes and how they glistened when he spoke about his work.

“C-can’t…” you just couldn’t bear it.

This was your childhood friend you were imagining, your friend who cared so deeply about you that he was willing to take you with him when he got a new opportunity in Piltover. Your friend who sacrificed his health for the sake of finding new tech to help people like you, who weren’t given a fair chance in the undercity. Your friend whose gaze would transfix on you as he explained what he was doing, voice tinged with an eagerness that made him whine when he thought your mind was straying from his words. 

“Darling, are you listening to me?” he would say as you played with some geared models he set out for you to see.

“Yes Viktor, I swear!” 

He would always chuckle and nod, either continuing to explain or instead staying silent, moving to stand behind you.

Your knees and mouth fell open, eyes fluttering shut.

Burnt toast, coffee, metal.

Heavy pants filled the silence of the room. 

You could almost feel the way his hand would slide over yours as you played with the model, long nimble fingers gliding over your skin. 

You would gasp, hand stilling until he began to move it, guiding it with his own.“Here, let me show you… This is how you use it,” he would murmur, warm breath hitting your skin. It was so hard to suppress the shiver he gave you, no longer able to focus on the way he would turn the model the other way, guiding your fingers to press against a gear, turning it in a slow circle to get it working.

Your breathing hitched, hand moving in the way he showed you how. 

His hand would speed up, moving away to let you try it. The gears then began to move on their own, prompting you to move your own hand away, watching the model with an excited smile.

The swelling pleasure in your belly grew, making the smooth movements of your hand become erratic, unable to keep a steady pace. 

“V-Viktor,” you breathed, hips bucking into the air. 

You could imagine it, the way he spoke so smoothly to you, an air of calm to it as if he was speaking to a frightened animal, “Yes, my darling?”

“L-like this?” you croaked, fingers dipping to press against your sopping hole, feeling it drool onto your fingers. 

“Yes, exactly like that… you're doing so good…”

Your breaths grew more and more ragged, shivering as you chased your climax. It was so close, making your head fall back onto the sheets, fabric clutched to your nose, using it to run it up and down your body.

Burnt toast, coffee, metal.

“S-so… close…” you whispered. 

Then you heard it.

A whisper.

You stilled, eyes snapping open and wide in terror. 

You didn’t breathe, you didn’t move. 

‘Go to her’, it whispered once more, a feminine voice you couldn’t make out, too low for you to distinguish.

But you could hear staggered steps, moving. 

You knew you were hidden from view, allowing you an advantage, but this person was moving toward you, slowly but steadily.

You were frozen in place.

Did they come to rob you? Had you even locked your front door when you came in?

But you had no time to think, you were sitting here unarmed and vulnerable. 

Gathering yourself, you sat up in bed, careful to avoid making noise as you peaked above the furniture that hid you, seeing a cloaked figure moving in the dark. You saw nothing, just them staggering. They didn’t seem to be here to steal, brushing past your things without a second glance. 

You prayed to anyone who could hear you that it was just some weary soul needing to rest.

But right before you looked away, you saw it. 

You saw the glow.

A faint blue-purple glow of footsteps that led toward you. 

You swallowed, curling back and into yourself as your eyes trailed the faint humming glow of these footsteps, the way they led right to the foot of your bed. 

The cloaked and hooded figure approached, moving around what hid you to stand at the edge of your bed, looking right at you. 

Then you smelled it. 

Burnt toast, coffee, metal, and… something… more.

Your breath hitched as a bony hand reached up and out, moving toward your face.

You flinched, squeezing your eyes shut as it moved. You didn't see the way it hesitated, pausing right before the warmth of your cheek.

“My darling…” They whispered, voice rumbling in a way that made your eyes snap open and body instantly and unconsciously sag, “Am i that scary?” 

You gasped, shaking as you made out the iridescent eyes that traced over your sunken cheeks and eyes with dark bags underneath. 

“Oh my darling…” he murmured, fingertips finally pressing against your cheeks. 

He was cold, but somehow warmth thrummed through him like… machinery. 

His thumb traced underneath your eye, gently, “Have you been suffering because… of me?” 

You said nothing, pinned to the spot underneath his gaze. 

You tried to say something, but nothing came out. Your mouth only opened and closed, silence emitting from it instead. 

His gaze swept over you, making a shiver go down your spine as you sat there. His gaze stilled, eyes widening ever so slightly as he followed your hands. He paused and, after a beat of silence, he spoke up.

“Here… let me show you.” 

Burnt toast, coffee, metal, and something indescribable. 

The hand cupping your cheeks trailed down to your jaw, tilting it upward to look at him as he shifted to sit in front of you, the overwhelming scent of Him invading your senses.

His other hand moved, gently wrapping itself around your wrist, feeling the warmth of your skin underneath his own. He then slid in, over and down underneath the waistband of your clothes and to your soaked fingers.

You could only stare into the pools of opal that peered into your soul.

A gasp wormed its way out of your mouth as his fingers pressed against you, index tracing around your throbbing clit to your clenching hole. He moved in circles, teasing you by pressing his longest finger just against your entrance before pulling back, moving to press a tiny bit deeper with every movement.

You felt yourself instantly relax, unable to help yourself as the familiar face of Viktor stared at you, eyes softening as he saw the panic melt away. 

“V-Viktor i…” you breathed, “You… d-” 

“I'm supposed to be dead… I know…” he whispered. 

His finger pressed in, making you groan softly as it moved against your warm walls, carefully pressing to find that spongy bit inside of you. He was always so calculated, even now as his gaze focused on your face, tracking every miniscule movement like the way your pupils dilated when you saw him, the way your breathing picked up when his thumb brushed against your clit, and the way your lips parted when his fingers curled. 

“But I'm here now, my darling… you don't have to worry anymore… I just want you to come back with me.”

His voice made your eyes struggle to keep open, soft moans filling the once empty room. You were drunk off him, drunk off the way his fingers moved so deliciously deliberate, stimulating you in multiple ways and making you melt. 

“Viktor…?” you sighed, barely registering what he said. 

“Yes?” Viktor whispered, leaning to press his forehead against your own. 

It sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body, tingling with a purple glow over your skin. 

“I…” gasping for air was all you could do, the overwhelming sensation flowing through your veins as his thumb pressed against your clit, fingers curling in and out of you. You were so close again.

“More?” He murmured, voice soft. 

Your eyes could barely hold his gaze, “N-need you…” 

“Like I always needed you?” 

You moaned out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you shook, the pleasure reaching its peak. 

“Cum for me… come with me.” he murmured, lips brushing against your own. 

He swallowed your moans as you cried out his name, body shaking. His hand on your jaw held you in place, continuing to move his fingers in you and on your clit, your hand wrapped around his wrist as he did so, the other still clutched onto his red tie. 

Pure, white, hot, pleasure stole your vision and voice, making you see visions of a future where you and your people would never have to suffer anymore, not with someone like Viktor to lead them. 

As you came down, body heaving and shaking, he carefully moved his hand off your core before wrapping your weak body with his lapis blue cloak, pressing you against him. Your head lolled, slotting against his neck, smelling the scent of burnt toast, coffee, metal, and something… something otherworldly. 

“Come with me.” He whispered, “I need you.”

“I will.” You whispered, this time not hesitating. 

[blaydie]

ᥫ᭡ LEARNING TO ACCEPT — “If I ever return home, I’d like you to accompany me. It wouldn’t be the same without you.” Dan Heng x GN reader.

Word count: 2.9k

Contains: Dan Heng x GN reader, Dan Heng IL, affection, kissing, making out, cuddling, NSFW content, love bites, scratches, brief (singular) mention of blood, handjob, brief oral, penetration, aftercare

How long has it been? Since completing his duties on the Luofu, Dan Heng has hardly left his room. It doesn’t go unnoticed by any passenger of the Express; even Pom-Pom has begun voicing their concern over the situation. He has always been distant, but not to this extent. Ignoring text messages, leaving knocks on his door unanswered—it’s as though he’s no longer here. 

To say it hasn’t been bothering you would be a lie. You don’t blame him for wanting to be alone. Anyone would feel the same way if they had to relive every torturous memory of a past they cannot control. You just miss him—you never thought it would be possible to grieve the presence of someone who is only a few steps away from you.

Walking out of the parlour cabin, you pass by the archives, noticing the gap from the slightly ajar door. As you were about to carry on, you bumped into someone, unsure of who else could be lurking outside of their room at this hour. It was dark, but regardless of light, you know whose hands are gripping both of your arms to stabilise you.

“Dan?” You kept your voice low, respecting his means of privacy. If he doesn’t want anyone to see him, it would be unfair to reveal he’s finally taken a step outside of his room.

“Hello.” His voice was soft, the grip on you loosening while you find your footing. 

Without thinking twice, you step towards him and wrap your arms around him, your head resting against his shoulder. As though relieved by your gesture, a huff of air exerts from his mouth as he holds you in an embrace. It’s been a while since he last saw you; he had come to forget how you felt in his grasp.

Just as you were about to talk again, he pressed his finger to your lips. You notice a light flick on down the hall, your bodies slowly backing up into the archives. When safety is ensured, Dan closes the door and brushes past you, clearing a space for you to sit down on his mattress.

The lights remained off, giving the impression to outsiders that no one was home. You take a seat, eyes glued to the messy pillows and blankets beside you. Dan stands at the databank, finalising some pieces while you get yourself comfortable. 

“Are you feeling any better?” You inquire, snuggling one of his pillows to your chest.

“Not really. I’ve been trying to take my mind off of things.”

“That’s okay, take your time. Everyone understands, but we all miss you.”

“I missed you too.” Dan smiles to himself, his steps drawing closer. “I left you a gift; it’s outside of your room door. I thought you’d be asleep by now.”

“I’ve had trouble sleeping recently. What is it?”

“It’s a teddy bear. I bought it for you when we were in Belebog. I couldn’t find the right time to give it to you—so much has happened since then.”

“Thank you. I’m guessing I’ll be kicked out soon; I’m running all my luck dry.”

“You can stay if you’d like to. Remember to keep quiet about it though, please.”

“I’m good with secrets.”

“I’ve been taking a break from work for a change. I watched all of that series you recommended to me. It was good.”

“Really? You liked it? I have so many more!—”

“Shh.” Dan laughs, keeping his volume down as he places his hand over your mouth. When you settle, he retracts his arm and wraps it around your shoulders. “I did. We can start a new series together if you’d like.”

“I’d like that very much. One that we only watch together.” You beam, poking around his face with your finger until you find his cheek, giving it a light pinch. “That means you have to see me every night. No watching it alone.”

“That would be nice. I’ve been meaning to catch up with you; I’m sorry for leaving your messages unopened. I do see them all. Your words are sweet.”

“Did you see the little kitty plush? It looks just like you!”

“I did. It’s too cute to be me.”

“I think you both look alike. I haven’t seen your face for so long; how do I even know this is Dan Heng? What if you’re a Dan Heng imposter?”

Leaning over you, he flicks on the lamp which produces low lumination, allowing you to gaze upon his facial features. He was in his nightwear, his lips pursed together.

“I know you’re still confused over what you saw on the Luofu. You can ask questions if you’d like.”

“I don’t want to pry. I am worried though.” Upon saying this, his features soften. “You’re not going to leave the Express, are you?”

“Not anytime soon. Don’t stress about that.” Dan reaches for his phone, opening up a streaming app. “I have my reasons to stay.”

“Good. It wouldn’t be the same without you.” You poke your head over, looking at the series he’s selecting to play. “You don’t have to hide your form when you’re with me. I didn’t find it weird; you looked beautiful.”

“Ah, it’s… It’s not like that. I prefer this one. That’s all.” His cheeks flush, eyes flickering up to you then back down to his phone. “There’s too much negativity tied to it. Plus, I don’t exactly blend in.”

“Can I see it again?” You brush your thumb over his hand, a small huff exiting his parted lips.

As your thumb continues to travel his skin, he locks his fingers with yours. Your eyes drift up, the change in his appearance evident. His hair flows behind his back, ears pointy. You instinctively reach to feel the horns crowning his head, but he stops you, holding your forearm in place.

“Let me do it for you.” He speaks in a hushed tone, guiding your fingers around the curve of each horn. The feeling is unlike anything you can think of. They’re much smoother than you imagined.

“Dan, they’re so pretty. Wow…” You’re in awe, captivated by the beauty of the man in front of you. Freeing yourself from his clutch, you tuck a long strand of hair behind his ear and run your finger over the cartilage.

“…” The faint blush on his cheeks darkened, spreading over the ears you have your hands all over. He clears his throat, doing his best to shake the feeling of the way you’re touching him. “Thank you.”

“I think you look amazing. This is who you are; you shouldn’t have to hide it because of a past that’s gotten stuck to you. You’re much better than he ever was.”

As you move back, you catch a glimpse of the wide-eyed expression he’s giving you, his eyes glowing and his mouth twisted into a wide grin. With his arms weaved around your waist, he tugs you closer, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

“I want people to see me for who I am. I’ll never be him. I want all of my accomplishments to belong to me. Nothing of mine should be tainted with his name.”

“That’s how it should be.” You bury your hand in his hair, nails scratching his scalp.

“I truly did miss you,” Dan mumbles against your skin, planting a kiss on your collarbone. “You understand me better than anyone else does. I appreciate that.”

“I try my best. I want you to feel that you can come to me for anything. You don’t have to resolve everything alone.”

Planting more pecks along your flesh, he returns to your neck, his tongue trailing up a patch of skin. His fangs graze you, nipping you abruptly. It felt like a needle, causing you to gasp, gritting your teeth while he quickly pulled back.

“I’m so sorry.” He wipes his mouth, a small trickle of blood escaping the puncture. “My teeth are sharper like this. I forgot…”

He places a kiss on top of the small bite mark, lifting you so you straddle his lap. Both of your hands remain on his shoulders, your foreheads pressed against one another. Pulling down his bottom lip, you lean into a kiss. He holds you tightly, allowing you to take the lead. In all truth, he’s terrified of hurting you. It’ll take some adjusting to get used to interacting with others in this form, particularly in more intimate ways.

Your tongue brushes against his, winning the battle and continuing on. It’s clear he’s holding back, but you aren’t willing to push him. Taking things slow will help him; the last thing you want to do is make his discomfort in this form grow worse. You and Dan have established in the past that this relationship has far surpassed friendship, though there’s yet to be an official label. Whatever reason there may be for that is unclear, but you both know your hearts belong together. Neither one of you would look for this with another person.

Fabric rustles while your hips wind against him, too lost in the moment. His hands tremble as they dip under your clothes, index finger gliding around your waistband. You disconnect the kiss, chest heaving. He pulls his sweater from over his head, rolling to the side to trap you under him. One of his knees is lodged in between your legs, pinning you flat to the mattress.

You drag your hands down his torso, dancing over his pecs and down his abs. His breathing turns heavier, eyes half-lidded as he fumbles with undoing the buttons of your attire. Whether it be due to his recent heightened emotions, he almost seems desperate for your touch. Desperate to touch you.

By looking at him, a pang of guilt ripples through your heart. You can’t imagine being subjected to a life like his, having to deal with the sin of something you wish to not associate with. Dan doesn’t deserve to be treated or viewed the way he is. Sitting back up, you wrap your arms around his neck and drag him into another kiss, causing him to fall with you.

This time, you roll on top, holding both of his hands against the pillow. His lips pout, almost as though he were encouraging you to go further. Due to all of the touching, he became hard a while ago. He was waiting for you to be the one to initiate things.

“Sometimes I wonder if you’re the only blessing this life has to give me. I must’ve used up any remaining luck I had to cross paths with you.” He rests back against the headboard, breaking his hands free so he can hold you.

“There’s so much more out there for you. We’ll find them together. We have an entire galaxy to search.”

“And much more beyond that.” He adds, the warm smile reappearing on his face.

You nod, returning your focus to his body beneath you. Sliding down his pants, you see his hardness outlined in his boxers, a small damp spot where pre-cum leaked out. His arousal for you didn’t bring him shame; he was pleased to allow you to see him this way. Vulnerability is something you only share with those you trust most.

Sliding them off, you take his dick into your hand, giving it a stroke before rubbing your thumb over his tip. The sensation shoots tingles up his body, goosebumps appearing up his skin. You continue rhythmically stroking his length, focusing your lips on leaving a trail of marks across his collarbone. He leans forward, allowing you easy access to the back of his neck where his hair covers. Swooping it out of the way, you leave a distinct hickey in a place no one will see. The only two people aware of its presence are you and him. It wouldn’t be the first thing you have both kept secret from everyone else.

Since he was already sensitive, it didn’t take him long to build up a climax, edging closer to an orgasm while you continued your motions. He panted, mouth directly beside your ear as you continued to decorate his skin with kisses and elaborately placed bites. A droplet of cum drips down onto your finger and you stop, wrapping your lips around his tip to clean him up. He swallows the lump in his throat, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand while you sit back up.

After removing your underwear, Dan guides you into the correct position, his tip pressed against your hole. He tilts his head to the side, waiting for you to tell him when you’re ready. With a nod, you lower yourself onto him, feeling him thrust up to speed the process. It didn’t take him long to bottom out inside you; your body is already familiar with his shape, fully accustomed to his size.

You both fall into the natural rhythm, your hips grinding against him while he pushes himself in and out. While he never fails to make you feel good, you intend to dedicate this night to him. He deserves the relief more than you. The longer this played out, the harder it became for Dan to suppress his urges, his knuckles turning white from the force he’s gripping your hips. A bead of sweat rolls down the side of his face, raising your concern. 

“Are you all right?” You whisper, planting a kiss on his forehead.

“I’m—” He bites his lip, suppressing the groan that tried to escape. “—I’m fine. It feels nice.”

Gradually, he begins thrusting into you with more power, your body falling forward, unable to remain upright. He rubs your back, now carefully nibbling the exposed section of your shoulder. His teeth glide over you like a dagger, sending a shiver through your core. You reach the peak of your climax, back arched as he continues to fuck into you, relishing the way you react.

His breathing pattern resembles that of a predator in the wild, the deep grumbles and pants revealing how much of his energy he’s exerting to get you this way. Unable to hold on, you release your orgasm, repeating his name quietly as you ride out the waves of pleasure. His nails dig into you, his final few thrusts sloppy. He held you close to his chest as he came inside of you, refusing to break the connection just yet.

Both of you are gasping, exhausted from the intimacy. Taking advantage of his current position, he litters your arm with kisses, lifting you up to get a look at what he has managed to do to you. Your neck has bruised, alongside a few of the bites on your collarbones; a breathtaking sight to see. You’re marked up by him, completely spent. All his.

The silence between you remains until the sound of heavy breathing dies down. When composed, he slips out of you, watching as his cum spills out of your hole. Reaching for a packet of tissues, he cleans himself and then wipes you down, removing the sticky fluid from your body so you don’t become uncomfortable. You roll off of him, lying on your stomach while he stands. As he’s walking to grab you a more comfortable set of clothes to borrow, he catches a glimpse of his appearance from the reflection of a frame on the wall. He had completely forgotten he revealed his true form, not feeling the horrors associated with the person of his past.

Returning to your side, he helps you up and slips a sweatshirt over your head, readjusting your hair for you. Large scratch marks trail down the length of your back, something he’s too ashamed to tell you about at this given moment. You were a mess, but you’re still as flattering in his eyes as you are usually. 

“Go get your teddy. It’ll look strange in the morning when people pass by your door. I’m going to use the restroom.” 

“I’m tired.” You yawn, pressing your forehead to his chest while he slides back into his pants.

“I’ll grab it for you then. We can watch the first episode of that series while we try to get some sleep. It’s late.” He flashes his phone screen at you, the large numbers declaring 1:01AM.

Silently leaving the archives, Dan grabs the teddy he gifted you from the floor of the passenger cabin as he redirects himself to the restroom. While in there, he can’t help but stare at himself in the mirror, realising he has a smile on his face as opposed to the usual sombre expression when he sees himself this way. A snicker leaves his mouth as he notices in detail each tiny mark you left on him, rendering it equal to the damage he left on you.

Tossing the teddy at you, Dan climbs back under the blankets and rests his head against yours, clicking play on the first episode of a series he had been hoping to watch with you. Even though you were drowsy, you kept yourself awake with small talk, grateful he trusted you enough to allow you to enter his personal space during such a tough time. As the episode plays out, you can see Dan waiting for the correct opportunity to speak.

“If I ever return home, I’d like you to accompany me. It wouldn’t be the same without you.” His tone was matched by the tender smile on his face, squeezing you tighter in the cuddle.

“I’ll go wherever you go. We’ll stay by each other’s side for the rest of time.” You reply, closing your eyes with a passionate flare sparking flames in your heart. You can rest peacefully knowing that no matter how long it takes, you’ll ensure he can live freely in his own body, being able to experience all the joys life has to offer without feeling the need to hide. 

[lovebugism]

hello sweetheart, i read your prompt list and saw this one "hug?” “clingy, much?……” but hugs them anyway and my heart melted, i don't know if you already did this, but can we have something like that with our sweet but grumpy eddie? 🤍

ty for requesting! — eddie doesn't know why you're avoiding him (fluff, ditzy!reader, 0.9k)

Eddie lost sight of you ten minutes ago. 

You were squished between Robin and Steve on the loveseat last he saw you, giggling into your solo cup while they belted Total Eclipse of the Heart to you — at you — over the music and in their best Muppet impressions. 

He only remembers it so vividly ‘cause he was jealous. Not jealous because you were subjected to Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum’s drunken antics, of course, but jealous because you were with them. And so, so far away. 

Now you’re gone, and he misses you like a stray dog — aggressive and hungry and hurt. He walks up to Steve in the kitchen just the same. Hair wild. Button eyes glittering. Slightly reluctant. 

“Where’d she go?!” he shouts over the music, half-muffled into his drink. He uses the plastic cup like a shield ‘cause he doesn’t want people to know he’s missing you. The metalhead freak from the wrong side of town isn’t supposed to need the ball of sunshine from the suburbs. 

But alas.

“Uh, I don’t know,” Steve slurs, half-distracted as he pours himself a drink. He doesn’t need Eddie to tell him who she is. There’s only one person in the whole world he’d go looking for. “She went outside with Robin, I think—”

Eddie spins on the worn heel of his sneaker before the words can properly leave his mouth. He ducks through the bustling, drunken crowd and finds you sitting lonesome on the porch outside. Prettier than the full moon and all the stars in the velvet black sky combined. 

He walks to stand beside you, shoes thunking heavy on the wooden deck. You tilt your chin to smile brightly up at him while he slips a cig into his mouth. He cups the stick as he lights it. Pretends that’s what he came out here for. Not to see you, of course. 

Definitely not.

“What are you doing out here by yourself?” he mumbles beneath the cigarette in his mouth.

“Robin just left,” you answer plainly, half-shy.

“Why didn’t you come find me?” he asks with an air of nonchalance, still trying to play it cool. ‘Cause there’s nothing less metal than yearning.

You shrug. “‘Cause you were busy?”

It’s easier than telling him that you thought he wanted the space. Or that you actually spent the whole night aching to hang on his side — too scared of embarrassing him in front of all his friends to act on it. 

You know who you are just like you know who he is. Bubblegum pink doesn’t always go well with black. It gets in your hair. Makes everything go all sticky. It’s an acquired taste you know Eddie’s still getting used to — too much of it, and his stomach will start to hurt. So you figure it’s best to keep your distance.

You just didn’t think he was as grieved by it all as you were.

Eddie scoffs. I’m never too busy for you, he wants to say. He might’ve if he wasn’t such a coward. Instead, he blows smoke from his lungs and jokes, “I wouldn’t call keeping Argyle from crowd-surfing in the living room busy, sweetheart.”

A laugh tumbles from his plush lips. The golden sound falls over your skin like stars. You smile absentmindedly back at him as you rise from the creaking rocking chair. You plant your feet ahead of his and smooth your palms beneath his leather jacket, over his warm sides.

Eddie meets your twinkling eyes with narrowed chocolate ones. “What?”

“Hug?” you ask in a mousy voice.

The boy laughs like he’s too cool for affection, though he’d be lying if he said your offer doesn’t have his chest sparkling something fierce. He flicks the cig to the ground — sheepish gaze going with it — before snuffing it out beneath his sneaker.

“Clingy much?” he scoffs.

You nod with a proud smile. 

Eddie’s chest swirls with an unfamiliar feeling. You’re strangely brave about all this — affection and love and all things sweet enough to make him gag. 

It makes him feel like he can feel brave, too.

He wraps his arms around your shoulders and holds you with all the intensity of someone wanting to swallow you whole. You hug him back just the same. “I missed you,” you murmur with your cheek squished against his chest.

“Then what’re you avoidin’ me for, huh?” he teases, chin bobbing against your head.

You pull slightly back to squint at him. “I’m not avoiding you.”

“You’ve been hangin’ out with Steve and Robin the whole night,” he grieves, hiding his sincerity behind boyish theatrics. With a feigned pout that feels totally real, he says, “And you didn’t even sit next to me when we played Never Have I Ever.”

“I thought you wanted the space,” you confess in a hushed voice.

His face screws up like he’s tasted something sour. “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know…” you shrug. “You always talk about how much you like being alone and stuff, so—”

“Well, yeah! I like my space— just not from you!”

It’s likely the least metal thing he’s ever said.

“Oh,” you hum, mouth contorting into a sheepish beam. “Well… Sorry.”

“Yeah. You should be,” he scoffs, mostly joking. He pouts softly and pulls you back into him again, nosing at your hair until his chapped lips brush your temple. “Just don’t let it happen again, alright?”