#i feel that theres a few plot holes but let me have this i was cooking 😭😭😭😭😭

[aqqleshiqqing-archive]

me rushing to your bed like that candance MOM HOLY FUCK meme with chicken soup bc mwa anyways let's get this bread 💬 with jaide stone and zinnia since women hating women is a thing 😔🤙 (might throw you more idk) also highly honored to have my ocs in your s/i list 🫡 those are my boys

i may not be drinking chicken soup but i have nice tea to warm my itchy throat ✨✨ thank you mwamwa also of COURSE i have to include some of your OCs especially clear. it's almost hard for me to imagine the story without maroon or clear in it 😭

okay. oh no. my switch has been flickered. you decided to ask ME about ZINNIA? aka the woman who completely altered ruby's childhood? while I understand her hatred towards steven and devon corp itself she's still got issues that im not EXCUSING MF 💥 women hate women still exists im afraid and jaide stone is nothing but a hater when this lady comes around 💥

okay so let's start in the R/S arc. the salamence event happens, ruby gets injured. sounds easy right? sure, but why did it even happen in the first place? nobody knew where the salamence came from - that's what jaide held the biggest contempt for.

"who in the world, was this sick and twisted to allow their dragon creature come to fight harmless children?"

she didn't have the answers yet, but the day would get even worse when she also learns that steven's devon corporation has gone through with an accident that had something to do with... releasing the sky legend. and it was because of a salamence as well. while I imagine steven refusing to disclose that specific detail about caging a beast down (corporation secrets, you know?) it's still easy to tell jaide that he's very upset, combined with him learning what happened to ruby too. it was not a great day for anyone, not even professor birch, I'm sure.

but from that day onward, jaide would do her best to find out the perpetrator that caused this trauma on the children, she's not just doing this for ruby, but for sapphire as well. she's had this same feeling as before, when gold gets in trouble for dealing with the evil scums of the g/s/c arc. she just knew that feeling too well, and didn't want it to happen again. her willpower to find out the truth keeps expanding as she's forced to watch the strained relationship between ruby and steven become stronger as time goes by - they rarely talk about that incident, but it's like a core memory to everyone involved there.

proceeding to the oras arcs, i can't really imagine jaide to be very involved from the get-go, but that would be until she would learn about the meteorite that would come to destroy all of hoenn - she's more or less of a supporting character. i would have to reread this again to give you a full answer on what she can do

but let's skip to the good part, when jaide does learn that zinnia was the one responsible for all this. i can't remember the sequence of events too well, but let's assume it all happened on this part where zinnia brings fourth the reformed magma and aqua team. (again i could be assuming the sequence of events wrong but yeah shh)

she has no idea who she is, but from the way she spoke so lowly about devon (a company that everyone loves) and having that intimidating salamence by her side - she couldn't help but assume maybe this could be the one. combined with jaide's smart sense of pokemon nature reading - she can only assume it was the aggressive salamence that fought without rhyme or reason from years ago + the same salamence also attacked steven's corporation.

i like to imagine jaide didn't say much as first, as she's not one to be so brash and act upon it quickly and allows zinnia to proudly monologue about her plans, slowly trying to understand what's going on. part of her plan includes stealing the keystones to win the favor of the sky beast, and who else had a keystone? steven stone.

sending out her goodra, it immobilzes steven with its goo and commands it to steal his stickpin - jaide panics but steven wanted her out of this. but just in the nick of time:

ruby comes in a clutch to stop the goodra from stealing his stickpin. distracted, jaide would try to lunge at zinnia and try to apprehend her and keep her in place - grabbing her wrists and looking at her dead in the eyes - quite the angry mother, huh? while she didn't understand the whole context of what's going on, she knew that zinnia was bad business and wanted her to talk it out. that's when jaide asks her to confirm her speculations

"your salamence, that was the same one from 9 years ago, wasn't it? it wrecked havoc in the corporation."

zinnia would snicker.

"of course! it was also thanks to a little boy that made it even more agitated, and it broke off the cages to set the sky legend free."

her suspicions would be correct, it was the same one that harmed her son 9 years ago. the events lined up exactly with the woman's words.

jaide... was furious. but, she can't just fight all of a sudden, it's not like her but the least she can do was to call upon her ursaring to keep zinnia pinned - I mean, she got the boss, right?

zinnia would snicker at steven again.

"you're married? it would seem you're not the most honest husband around."

jaide assumed she was just... trying to piss her off. but in reality, jaide was missing a few chunks of context that steven had regrettably hidden away from her.

ruby stopped his mother from being passive aggressive towards the perpetrator, and would give up his and emerald's keystone bracelets just to simply say that he "wants this to be over."

it wouldn't be long before zinnia sets out, thanking ruby for the keystones and flying out of the place. jaide was stunned, steven looked dejected again.

it would seem he still has to clear up a few things about what he and his father does for a living.

it's complicated to be a family and business man at the same time.

[ofmermaidstories]

(This is all about ''Something (just like this'' :], i apolagize in advance)

Theres an auther (you, i'm thinking of you) that has given sutch weight to the simple human pains everyone has, let them cary a greaf in every breath they're mentioned, i can't help but ache with the mc as one because i get it, i understand and even if i handn't felt the same pain that crushes your hope of ever being loved in the same way you do, if i hadn't though myself cynical and bitter the way she does i still think i'd get it.

I still think i'd be able to see myself cradle my heart like an infant, even though it's an old ugly, terrable creature.

The plots so ritch it's unbalivable that i get to read your works for free, like i knew it was her bestfried the second our artist glaced over her sholder and saw her drawing kids with guns in masks. But it was her best-fucking-fried, who dies without answering her livid questioning.

It's her constant self awair bitternes to the person she is that just-

Chefs fucking kiss.

Like the way she views herself and everyone else she thinks threatens the few things she sees as good in her with a sort of cynicalnes, but through herself that is bloody perfect.

Shes insane for the shit she pulls, Gods i love her.

I cannot expres enough of my love for the way you craft your words, the story and the way you put so mutch care into it makes me ill.

Izuku is caprured so well, his whole being being intertwined with Katsukies-....i am going feral as we speak.

Also her being an artist so acuretly presented, it's insane, the way she is about her skill, her talents, her works and her instuments and the way there are these little moments she wants to capture is so stupidly accurate to how i see the world as a creative. Always hungry and always craving to make, even when im no where near a peace of paper or even the shittiest of pens.

Im grinning and in fucking tears. (As i was writing all of this in my notes i wasn t even that far into the last chapter.)

Holy fuck, god i fucking despise Hana. And i get why, and im amazed at how her resoning, her pain and anger dosn't justify(?) shit when i've seen a lot of things where someones inhumane actions get swept under the rug cus they were hurting quietly, or something.

She was like a quirk nazi. Nothing redeams(?) that, y'know?

Auther i am shaking you by the sholders, and im sorry if my nails dig in too deep but holy fuck. Breathings hard, fic so good my rib cage has started to feel too small for my heart, and my lungs, and the hole your story has carved inbetween all of it.

Fic so good i haven't even gotten to the end and i want to thank you for, for all this has done to me. I'm shit with fics where there are a lot of words, no matter how mutch i love the characters and yet, and yet somehow this is one of the 100k + fanfics i have enjoyed every gut wrenching second of.

I feel like vomiting

In fact

I might.

They all need therapy after this, methinks.

(I know this is long and loopy, and my english (my second language) is not great, and that ultametly i kinda said nothing but i needed you to see (at least a little bit of) how insanely wonderful your craft is)

Anywho, i still haven't finished, and that was a lot of words, but i hope you have a lovely 24 h, i wish you the best with all of your future works. "Something (just like this)" has...given me brain damadge i'm guessing.

Blue, there is nothing to apologise for, I think you are wonderful. 🥺 You said everything. 🥺 From this message alone—from you taking the time to write it, and send it, I can tell you that there’s nothing about your heart that’s old or ugly or terrible. If anything, I think it’s golden—like the afternoon sun, reflecting all that good light back until it’s too much to hold. 🥹🫀✨

But okay, lemme try and do the thoughtfulness of this ask some justice. 🥹💕 God, to be honest I kinda worried about Hana, and her place in the story. Like—knowing how it was going to end. I think a lot of us will end up parting ways with people in our life that were important—and some, unfortunately, for ugly reasons. Hana’s betrayal is like, so extreme, so dramatic and terrible. And it doesn’t just hurt Reader, it hurt other people, kids. Like sure, Hana was hurt—but then she turned around and hurt others, willingly. And there’s no justice for the ones she directly affects. You’re right, Blue. You can’t redeem that—you can only pick up the pieces around it.

Tbh, I think Reader’s bitterness would’ve made building a life after it all that much harder, if it weren’t for other people. 🥹 Like—Scribbles cynical nature was such a fun part of writing the fic, lmao, and it absolutely would’ve made life that much harder for her in the aftermath if she didn’t have support. 🥹 I think someone like Scribbles, who barely trusts themselves, was a good match/contrast for Izuku who—like, even in canon is learning to overcome the worst of his most fear-driven habits. It gives him the ability to see Scribbles in a way that—that she needed. 🥺

Bluey!!! You’re an artist too??? Like our Reader. 🥹 The need to document everything is so real lmao. Like—it’s constant!! An insatiable way of looking at the world. 🥹 How do I capture this, how can I do this. I literally just had that feeling the other night, driving home under a perfectly straight trail of cloud like a comet’s tail. The sky was that perfect, indigo glow, and there was a single star alongside of it and it genuinely looked like the trail of a meteorite streaking over the sky and I wanted to remember everything about it. I wanted to draw it, write it, anything to keep it.

Blue, you have said so many kind things about my writing. 🥺 Either in this ask or in the tags of other things. And!!! It means so much to me, every time. 🥺 This is what I mean when I say you have a reflective, golden heart. 🥹💛🌿 I’m always going to be glad that like, I could write something that made you wanna reach out and say hello, lmao, but mostly I’m just glad you’re here. ☀️

(Also, as an aside—you mentioned a song, in the tags of one post a little while ago. I wanted you to know that I immediately ran to spotify to try and find it, lmao, and listen to it and like, now it lives in my likes and every time I listen to it I think of you and also of maybe trying to write a Bakugou worthy of the association, lmao. It’s such a sweet song, Blue, thank-you for the new music 🌷)

[notedchampagne]

Medieval type aus could also be fun with them. Taking it in the kinda over the top dark soulsy direction gives u some fun possibilities

Another au that proved surprisingly fun for my own ocs at least was a soul eater au lol, which def has some tlt au potential I think. It's really fun to really lean into the cartoony anime designs and in book 2 we already got harrow dragging around a sword representing gideon, soul eater also plays with the whole combining 2 ppl thing to an extent(crona n black blood, and asura having consumed his weapon)

i do like the vibes of medieval aus but unfortunately these & soul eater fall into the same problem in that i dont know enough about them: the most i know about medievals is that sort of fantasy setting with dragons and princes and ive already thought about witch harrow, princess harrow & knight gideon, prince kiriona (my personal favorite) and it just stops there. theres no plot its just pretty pictures and like a scene in my head where they snipe at each other. unless theres an equivalent motivator for lyctorhood or alecto in there its the same book plot with a different outfit on

i have heard of soul eater tlt aus before but again idk shit about it and also im not willing to watch an entire anime for au potential. also i will say something very mean here. i dont really like crossover aus. for example let me take a few animes i have watched (haikyuu, dungeon meshi) and put that thing into griddlehark: i can take gideon and harrow and box them within an already existing narrative (they have to go to nationals! they have to go to the dungeon to further their own goals!) but hq/dunmeshi work specifically because of their detailed cast. gideon and harrow do not have the levels of soulmate-friendship that allow them to grow through the power of volleyball (also i think harrow would be a manager instead of a player). i can see harrow becoming the dungeon master and being Consumed by the depth of her vision, but you would have to assume that they can keep up the competence of laioss monster knowledge and enough physical/magical prowess to keep them both alive. actually hold on if i add the sixth in there they might just be a competent team this au isnt so bad. BUT MY POINT STANDS. youre trying to fit beautiful round pegs into square holes - it fits, but somethings missing and it just feels a little unsatisfying. theyre not bad though. theyre just stuff id just draw once or twice then not think of again

[icyberrydoesthat]

reasons why i think my parents pissed off a fairy before i was born (why i think im cursed)

cursed pieces of media always seem to find me

im not exaggerating when i say ive seen more than my fair share of fucked up stuff. it always seems to land on my cellular device or my piece of paper. ill be simply enjoying a show or consuming a book as one does and the most heinous thing will happen and ill be expected to just carry on. and now i do just that, i keep calm and carry on. more specifically theres one topic that seems to pop up a lot (tw!!) incest.....now now you may be thinking "what!? incest....id drop whatever it was and go reconnect with nature...weirdo" now now lets not jump to conclusions, 9/10 that movie/book/manga/whatever is actually really good (the other 1/10 lands you in therapy) and the incest or whatever never progresses the plot at all, but is a big enough plotwist to give me whiplash. and dont you worry, ive got an example. last year, i needed a book so i went to my schools library with a friend. about 10 mins of searching resulted in no book i felt inclined to read....until my friend gasps, a book in her hands..."Shadowhunters"?? i had never heard of it but apparently it was a big part of her childhood, something that soothed the gaping hole Twilight left...okay ill read i said. reading the first few chapters was great, i could practically smell an enemies to lovers and the big mystery of who and where mc's brother is was lingering in the back, my type of book i thought happily. little did i know....mc and ml were infact revealed to be siblings......i dropped my book. i had already thought it was weird that ml's adoptive brother had a crush on him but that gets crushed quick and now this...? now you may be thinking isnt it illegal or sum to promote incest..? and yes u are right, so you can imagine my deep sense of relief i felt when mc and ml were infact not related... because i didnt know how much more i could take of the ml yearning for his literal sister..(he was relentless...). but it doesnt stop there, for all you sickos out there, the author still managed to weasel some incest in. when the ml and mc are still believed to be siblings by them and everyone, another ml enters, this boy is perfect, maybe even a better fit for mc, girl is feeling it too. turns out this second guy is none other than.....her brother !! shocked you didnt it...(hes completely sick and knows the entire time....he wants his sister). but dont worry guys other than that, Shadowhunters is really good, character development? chefs kiss. i luv isabelle.

all my pens perish

im not exaggerating when i say i probably go through 6 pens a week, either they explode in my school blazer, completely new pens dry out in my pencil case, snap or most common cause, i lose them. i try pencil and the lead snaps in the middle so now matter how much i sharpen it, it will never be useful again. this is a cry for help, any stationary reccs??

i lose everything all the time

would you believe me if i said ive lost my keys a total of 5 times this year? well dont. because ive lost them 7 times and only 3 of the times have they been returned. im a regular at the keymaker.... how many of you can you say that??? i hope none, i wouldnt wish this on my worst enemy. i think this 'losing stuff' thing ties in rather nicely into my fish memory too, im pretty convinced ive got a rare amnesia that hasnt been discovered yet. its almost impossible, scratch that, it is impossible for me to remember everything for school the next day, ill always forget at least one thing. my friends will try referencing a supposedly funny/memorable thing that happened and ill just stare. theyll stare back and then do everything in their power to try to make me remember...nothing works.

my friends always have the same crushes as me

you may be thinking, well thats kind of normal for a group of girls that hang around eachother to have the same taste in people and i i thought so too, until it was such a regular thing i just stopped telling them about my crushes. i do have a story, start scene-its the end of a history lesson and im really happy, its been good lesson and i love history. im abit tired because its P5, the end of the day, for that reason, im lagging just a little, i leave my book usually at school because ive got two and my bag doesnt need any added weight . as im packing, a boy, a desk away from mine, walks over and takes my book to the cabinet, some thing he really did not need to do. and i don't know why but i guess im attracted to people being nice, even if it was just a decent human being doing just decent things... the next day, i realise i do want this boy, sadly. i had noticed him before, hes the kind of pretty that doesnt need to exist in a boy but if it does, he unfortunately becomes an object of envy. long lashes, blonde hair, droopy kinda eyes that make him look sleepy all the time. we had just never talked, seeing as we never had reason to. the next day, in a maths lesson, my friend says, "hey don't you think so and so is cute..." as shocked as i was, partly because this friend had been gushing about a different boy an hour ago and partly because it had happened again, i think i played the "really? maybe if i squint really hard he's meh" role really well....long story short, they're dating now....

now youve read my reasoning, there are more...but i just cant remember, i just know you see what i mean. my parents deffo pissed off some magical being and in return it cursed their firstborn daughter.

xoxo

A

ps: this is actually my second time re writing this because i accidentally deleted but the world just needed to know...ty for reading to the end <3

[bekpengii]

Why did you delete all the parts to rewrite Larcestone instead of updating each chapter? I so sad when I searched up the fic and realised it was all deleted and restarted💔 Hope all goes well with the rewriting🤗

to be entirely honest the first part was not up to my standard at ALL. the fic began nearly a year ago and it was my first ever long writing piece—let alone a plot-heavy science-fiction😭 there were too many issues w the beginning and i basically wrote myself into a hole (the science was way too complicated + i could feel the story becoming something so dependent on extra media to fully understand it) i was also so embarrassed of the first part and would have to warn people to js hold thru as they read the first chapters.

if i had kept the fic up and uploaded the new ver, most people wouldn’t even realize a new version existed. also, keeping up the og was js way too embarrassing for me💔 updating each chapter as i reworked it wouldn’t work either bc the plot has been entirely reformatted. the new version and the old version do not connect at all minus a few basic plot points. EVEN THEN, as of chapter 2, i’m quite literally backed up by 2 whole major events (im improving the pacing) and there would be a major dissonance btwn the new chapters vs the old one

SORRY FOR THE LONG REPLY!!! THERES JS A LOT BEHIND THE DECISION😪😪 i’m also js getting my main reasons out to have it on my profile lol. if you or anyone else seeing this is interested, i’m completely willing to send over a downloaded copy of the og, but i would rather you read the updated ver🫢😖

THANK UUU sorry again lol😓😓

[ultraviolencced]

:(

[chyberriesss]

Alone together

Bill denbrough x reader

Plot:[name] just moved to derry maine. Sadly, it looks like bill isnt the only one who wants them.

I suck at these😭😭

And yes, i was inspired by taylor swift's song dont question it.

More info (?):female reader heavily implied cause im a girl and i dont know how to write for a different gender sorry☹️☹️ also they/them pronouns are used!:))

It was the summer of 89, me and my mother just moved to the lone town of derry. School just finished and i felt like shit. Missing kids cases have been happening alot lately scaring the living shit out of me, i feel like im gonna get kidnapped any minute now, i wonder why tho.

Maybe i'm just being paranoid but i swear i felt eyes watch me as i pack my things to leave the classroom, i was alone, but it didn't feel like it.

I ignore what i felt and walked out heading straight to the bathroom to well, haha.

As i enter i saw gretta taunting some Beverly girl, I've heard about her before but i could care less. I felt bad tho, as i enter a stall to pee. 

Water splashed and leaked on the floor. I waited for gretta and her stupid friends to leave before knocking on the bathroom stall's door to check up on the girl.

"Hey you ok in there?" I asked "uh yeah!' she replied, it didn't convince me tho. 

She walked out the stall, she wasn't covered in anything but i could see her dress was wet. "Hey wait…! Your dress, its well, wet." I stated out the obvious, she just stared at me, WHY DID I SAY THAT.

"oh… yeah" she replied blankly staring at me. "Here, let me just-" i quickly got tissues and wiped her dress, not even finishing my sentence. "The names [name] by the way, nice to meet you" i needed friends don't blame me. "I know, we have the same classes, im bev, you probably know me already." I smiled at her, "nice to finally properly meet you ms marsh." "this isn't really a proper way of meeting someone but sure" she smiled "nice to meet you too." We walked out the stinky ass bathroom and talked for a while.

We finally got out the building bumping into the new kid, ben. He and bev talked about stuff i don't care about after we introduced ourselves. I was just standing there watching them, flirting? Bev grabbed Ben's yearbook and signed it. 

I felt like someone was watching me again, gives me the creeps man. I walked away, looking around trying to figure out who or what was looking at me.

A hand touched my left shoulder snapping me back to reality. It was bev, i forgot i was still with her, "you ok? You look kind of pale." "Im fine, just finally glad that hell hole of a place is done for a few weeks." I say pointing at the school building. She chuckled, "what happened to uh the new kid?" I ask "Ben, and nothing happened to him i just told him i didnt want to keep you waiting." She looked at me like i was some toddler whose impatient enough to just run-off, which i did. "So, you have to hots for him?" I ask "No? God no how did you even com up with that?" "I don't know" i laugh playfully and walked away with her, ignoring that eerie feeling im having.

_____________________________________________

"Why is there so many?!" I yelled in lowercase cause i have to be quiet for some reason."i know, lets just…. Get uh this one..?" Bev was unsure but went with the one she picked anyway.

We were suppose to walk up to the counter when we saw fucking gretta! "Holy shit holy shit holy shi-" We walked faster to the next aisle to see three dudes picking out medical supplies. Bev quickly hid the stuff we got at her back as they stare at us.

"You guys ok?" One of them asks "we're fine whats wrong with you" bev says "none of you're business" the one with curly hair says obviously uneasy with me and bev. "Theres a kid outside that looks like someone killed him" "w-we need some s–s-su-supplies but, we don't have enough money" they say explaining their intentions. "What the fuck" is all i reply.

"Do we reallyyy have to help them??" I whisper to bev hile walking to the cashier "You helped me clean my dress, it turned out great so why not help them?" She said looking at me then back at them. "Thats totally differe-" " i like your glasses mr. Keene" this girl is crazy i swear to god. "You look just like clark kent" i added smiling, this is so disgusting i tell you. "Oh hohoho i dont know about that" he says adjusting his glasses laughing, acting coy. Man he sure is weird and who even says hohoho??? You fucking Santa Claus or something? "Can i try them?" Bev asks, he looks around and says sure handing her the glasses. "You look even better without them mr. Keene." I compliment him, he smiled at me, making me wanna puke my organs out.

"What do you think?" Bev puts the glasses on, mr. keene leans closer to us, "well look at that, you look just like lois lane" he says smiling. What the actual fuck. 

"We should really get going, i mean we wouldn't wanna get in trouble for going out so long." I stated smiling at the both of them with a hint of irritation added to my tone. Bev hands him back the glasses 'accidently' knocking down the container of cigarettes. "Shoot im so sorry" she says "its okay" mr. keene says smiling. He leans down to pick up the cigarettes as i turn back to the three guys, signalling them to go now, they even manage to knock a few things down making me chuckle.

We bid our goodbyes to mr. Keene and left immediately.

"Jesus that was gross" i say "wouldn't want to do that ever again" bev added. 

As we walk down the street we saw the guy who stutters again.

"Um t-take this" he said pulling out a crumpled dollar "even steven" bev says flashing her stolen box of cigarettes. "I'll take it uh…" "bill m-m-my name's bill" "yeah, bill! I'll take this perfectly fine dollar." I smile at him making him turn away. I follow bev to the alley way and see the guys from earlier.

"Holy shit what happened to you" i ask kinda wide eyed when i saw new kid looking like a leaking hamburger. 

"Are you ok that looks like it hurts?" bev asks

"Nah im good… i just fell" ben smiled shyly

"Yeah right into henry bowers" some guy with glasses said making me chuckle, in turn making bev hit my arm. "Ouch" i whispered, rolling my eyes. "Shut it r-r-richie" guy from science class says "why?! Its the truth!" Richie, I assume, exclaimed.  

I keep getting this eerie feeling of someone staring at me again, I look around to see bill looking at me. And here i thought i was being stalked. He looked away immediately looking shy when i caught him.

"You sure they got the right… stuff, to fix you up?" Bev asks "are you flirting with him again? in front of everyone too?" I ask naively. "Im not" she looks back at me rolling her eyes playfully.

"Y-y-ou know what we'll t-t-take care of him, thanks again Beverly, [name]" bill says Glancing at the both of us. 

"Sure, maybe i'll see you around" bev smiled at him. I swear i saw him blush! "Im richie, call me rich for short sweetcakes" the guy with glasses approached me, i assume trying to flirt with me, smiling like an idiot. "You wont definitely be seeing me around anytime soon." I roll my eyes at him. I look at bev giving her a lets go look.

"Wait!" I hear bill scream, me and bev turn to him looking confused. "W-we were thinking of going to the q-q-q-quarry tomorrow i-if you guys wanna come." He asked glancing at us and his friends back and fourth.

"We dont" 

"Glad to know"

Me and bev say at the same time. 

"We'll see if we can come." "Which we wont!" I add winking at them as bev pulls me to leave.

"Y-y-you scared her away r-richie!" "No i didnt pretty sure it was you big bill!" "Shut up richie" "yeah shut up richie" i hear them arguing like idiots as we walk away, making me smile to myself.

"Jeez! Do you see the way he looks at you?! Its so Romantically stupid i tell you!" I exclaimed at bev as we walked "shushhh! Someone could hear you you know! And besides its nothing im sure he's just being friendly" "yeah whatever" i roll my eyes at her naiveness, "im going home, you should too, we might be the next missing kids you know" i say half joking.

 We said our goodbyes and went our different ways. I felt something staring at me again, i just ignored it and walked home faster im not about to get kidnapped motherfuckers.

_____________________________________

THATS IT HOLY SHIT GUYS!!!!

Im planning on making parts to this story, this chapter is basically just an introduction to it and basically just how the characters meet and all hope you guys liked it. I might add a link to a Spotify playlist with songs i listened to ehile i thought of the plot later;)

[034463]

Maxiel fanfic rec

yes thats right you heard me a maxiel fanfic reclist because apparently im crazy and ive been reading so much maxiel tht i can make a reclist now. its all so very catered to my taste soooo have fun

1. With The Sun In Our Eyes by screwstyles | T, 36k

“A fake dating AU set in 2025: It’s bad enough that Max is outed by an ex in the middle of racing season, and then his team suggests he pretend to date Daniel to soften the blow. It’s as bad an idea as it sounds.”

a maxiel classic, theres just something about fake/pretend relation ship that just gets me. also a lot of miscommunication so heads up for that”

2. you pick me up and take me home again by wintrs | M, 28k

“It feels like a dream, seeing Daniel again after all these years. It's a second chance Max knows he doesn't deserve, and he isn't going to waste it.Or: Max isn't racing in 2027, although he couldn't tell you exactly why. But it isn't a big deal. He's fine.”

max deals with his feelings and also his past trauma. very very angsty.

3. Little Drops of Anguish by semperama | E, 45k

“After a crash in Baku 2021 leaves Max unable to race, he's left trying to figure out what to do with his life—and with Daniel, who doesn't seem to want to let him go.”

also like fic no 2 max cant race and must face the fact tht theres a life beyond racing and daniel showing him that.

4. well we can settle down by tiredtiredsharl | M, 24k

“Sometimes Daniel watches the tapes back and he thinks: shouldn’t I be jealous of this kid? Or: Max drives the way we all aspire. Or: Christ, I’m in the presence of someone who will go down in FIA history.He never says any of that. Because after he watches Max stumble through an interview with a journalist who quotes Toto, he realizes that the pressure is the last thing Max needs.Max is one bad race away from combusting. Or going into the wall again. And Daniel can’t handle either of those options. For reasons he can’t examine right now. Or ever.”

dont remember much of the plot except that i found myself finishing the ff at 6 am in the morning and the light were coming through my window. amazing shit

5. The Dog's Home by dm3rv | M 33k

“Max Verstappen liked dogs. Max Verstappen loved cats. The jury was still out on people.Max has spent years climbing the ranks at an Animal Welfare Charity, moving from volunteer to intern to Animal Care Manager. The dogs and cats he cares for are his life - if only he didn't have to spend so much of his time putting up with 'VIPs'; entitled celebrities and donors with image-based agendas. Daniel is going through an image and identity crisis after an uninspiring season with McLaren. Keen for an image overhaul, he gives his time to a local animal shelter. What he doesn't expect is the prickly Animal Care Manager who has been assigned to look after him. Animal Shelter AU.”

THE BEST! max vet au youre crazy and dog boy daniel scared of dogs? good content also dont forget to check out the side galex. also good shit.

6. The Drive Of Your Life by  littleprism | ?, 70k

“Daniel is a semi-known actor. Max just got his second WDC a few months ago. There was absolutely no reason for them to meet.

Until a fateful crash in testing changed that.”

b list actor danny and racer maxy playing in a movie together. theres some plot holes but if you dont really think about it its soo good. 

7. anything to get to the rush by kingsguarding | E, 18k

“It’s so stupid, that’s the thing.Every year, the World Champion gets to choose another driver to … celebrate with. It’s an old tradition, apparently. As old as the sport itself. Part of the prize of winning, part of your reward.Max has never understood it.”

the ff that made me realize im soo deep in maxiel lore that i will sink w this ship. basically two emotionally stunted boys doing emotionally stunted boys thing

8.��MV33 by Whippasnappa | E, 14k

“Daniel finds out Max is on Grindr. He's curious. He's just going to download the app, just to see. Just to look at Max's profile. He's curious how Max picks up men, curious if Max puts his real face out there. He's definitely not going to message Max. He's definitely not going to do that. He messages Max.”

yeah.....

9. Happier than Ever (so why are you crying with blue-sky eyes) by Whippasnappa | E, 30k

“From the first time they met at RedBull, Max knew he never wanted to be without Daniel. A look through their relationship as Max tries (and fails) to keep his feelings for Daniel hidden, as Daniel leaves for Renault, then McLaren, as Max tries to hold himself together.”

it hurts but it hurts so good. retelling of their whole history

will be updated as i read more ff

[quirkle2]

yeah no i asked what i asked and i still . hated myself for imagining it bc i really hate that the idea that the loving and caring family the links have built isnt meant to stay AJSJSAJAHJ i say i love angst but really. i love hurt/comfort and yeah no theres barely any of the comfort . ask ouchy questions get ouchy answers on my part </3 but still ty for indulging me (i say with equal amount of tears) !!

so now i am sitting patiently like a kindergarden kid about to hear storytime . that storytime is your ranch au :>> please ramble as long as you like <33

NO NO UR SO VALID I TOTALLY GET IT imso sorry if i made u sad . i made ME sad. we're both sad :(

kicks my feet up into the air i will cheer us up mark my words

ranch au ...................my beloved and most cherished ranch au. a lotta people prolly have this idea but here is my interpretation of it i suppose

to sum it up rly quickly it's the boys not getting a permanent goodbye and Instead sticking together and going to live on time and malon's ranch happily ever after <333 that's it that's the plot GVEAIYGV

sometime after wars is exiled from castle town and he's had a bit to reflect, he realizes that he's not gonna have Any place to stay when they separate. he hates thinking about their inevitable goodbye in any capacity, but he knows that at some point he's gonna have to come to terms w the fact that he won't have them forever (he will.) and they'll have to say goodbye for good (no.)

he's . obviously very troubled by this in general but That on top of the exile has him stressed and upset and worrying about the future and how he'll even continue without them. the chain can See he's upset—of course he is, he was just betrayed by his "friends" and banned from his home, stripped of his title—and luckily, time comes to da rescue :)

time knows wars is worrying abt living situations n such on top of the Betrayal(tm), and he,,, offers him a place, at the ranch :) they both know very well that that might not be possible—fate drags them around as it is, and they doubt it'll be kind enough to allow wars such a luxury—but the offer is there, if they find that it's possible. and wars isso fucking touched by that that he nearly cries GVIAEYGV

fast forward to . The Inevitable. in this au they Do say their goodbyes, and they Do separate and branch off into their different eras. everything goes as it should, according to fate. everything goes well Except the fact that there's only 8 portals. wars' isn't there. and that just,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

that kinda cements it in wars' head that he's truly been thrown away by his Entire Era. why else would fate not let him go back home? that means he's Truly not needed anymore, and just like artemis and impa, his world abandoned him when he stopped being useful. even fate says there's no point in going back. wars might as well not even exist there anymore

so he goes through time's portal instead. and for the next few days they live on the ranch and ,,try not to fall apart. time basically just lost seven of his fuckin boys, the one remaining one an absolute wreck and definitely working himself to the ground to keep his mind busy and Also to sate that fear that he'll be thrown out by time too if he's not useful enough (malon is more than welcoming to wars and so very happy to have him there and she'sso fuckin gentle w him u don't even know)

and for those few days, they both live w Giant holes in their chests. it feels utterly and dreadfully empty, to just continue life after a loss that great. they're both constantly reminded of the other boys and neither of them are sleeping much at all; wars and ledge were So incredibly close and wars constantly misses him every fuckin moment and all the work he's doing around the ranch is not doin a goddamn thing to distract him from it. time has to stop him from overworking himself too hard multiple times

but one night time's lyin in bed, unable to sleep and Feeling Empty, and then wars is suddenly banging on his and malon's bedroom door. he drags them outside—wars has his sword on him, that's not a good sign—and lo behold, when they step onto the porch, there is a portal in front of their house. just,,,,,,, sitting there. waiting

call it magic or a sixth sense of sorts, but for some reason, Both of them know this isn't a simple calling for another adventure. they just,,, know it in their bones. this isn't that. somehow, somewhere in their minds, time and wars both understand what fate is offering them

they quickly pack, fully arming themselves just in case they're wrong, and they say goodbye to malon in hopes that they'll only be gone a few days or so (they,,, hope to god)

they r dropped in skyloft. so far, promising

they track down sky. he bursts into tears at the sight of them GVUYEAGV at first he thinks it's another adventure, and they say while they can't Promise it's not, they r pretty sure—"like . 80% sure"— that it's smth else entirely. the Opposite, rly

sky goes w them. next up is four, a tearful reunion ensues, same explanation is given. it repeats and repeats and repeats until they,, eventually have everybody :) Everybody is back together—and yes, wars and ledge did run to each other and absolutely Tackle the other

one last portal stands before them. they don't know for sure it's the last one, but they Hope. they hope to god. they all,, hold their breaths and walk through it .

and they r deposited right back where they'd left at the ranch

there is . a sort of strange, underlying apprehension that resides w the sheer Holy Shit We're Together and Home. it's the fear—mostly and justifiably felt by legend, since he's experienced,, what, 7 journeys now ? give or take—that fate is simply gathering them together at a safe spot just to get ready to throw them into smth else

in reality they Can't know what the Entities behind these portals r doing, what their intentions are. they can only assume. but ultimately, even though legend honestly doesn't think his body can Make it through another adventure, if he's dragged into another one and it's w These idiots ? he'd go, and risk destroying his body and mind a lot more in the process, just to spend more time w them. it's not the ,, best circumstances to spend time w ur family, but hey . when else is fate gonna let him do it

malon sees them all back in one piece and races for them, and that's sorta the thing they need to snap out of their little shell-shocked trances and Celebrate. it's . a very big emotional rollercoaster GVYEAGV they cry and laugh and holler and while they're all distantly aware there is a chance this isn't the end of their journeys and there's more to go, they still celebrate. they're back together. gang's all here

and this lets the boys be boys. they all get to live in a normal household (as,, normal as a house full of traumatized heroes can get) w PARENTAL FIGURES . HALLELUJAH. and the younger boys get to be kids and the older boys gets to catch up on a childhood that was taken from them. they get to be normal people

eventually time expands the ranch house to accommodate them. it is a very big change—malon: "there are 8 extra people in my house and i love them all dearly but also there are 8 extra people in my house."—and yeah they definitely struggle to adjust a bit, but eventually everything calms and settles and it's Peaceful. they live peaceful lives, for once

AND YES I . I KNOW THIS HAS MANY MANY HOLES IN IT. but frankly my dear i do not give a damn HVGIEAGVA don't think about how all of them effectively left their families to join a different one. don't think abt that. they visit . it is canon in my eyes that the portals occasionally appear and let them visit their families. it's absurd but have u been paying attention ? so is everything else GVIEAYGV

ofc it's not all flowers n rainbows. they all just went through the fucking ringer w this last journey, and for people like legend who barely had any time in between each adventure to process the trauma, he's got,,,, a lot of catching up to do. they all struggle w a lot of different things, and even several months in they r still learning each others' boundaries when it comes to living in the same household

legend doesn't unpack his bag until 2 months in because he's fully convinced it's not over and he wants to be ready and packed when another portal comes to yank him from reality. hyrule's never,, lived in a home like this and he feels a bit out of place and unsure of what the etiquette is. twi in particular is absolutely terrified of the possibility that they could be dragged into smth else or separated again. both bc he's dealt w this before—being separated from midna between realms—and bc time, well.... the hero's shade thing is another can of worms entirely.

wars is still terrified he'll be thrown out despite the numerous reassurances from time, malon, And the others that they'd never. even though he had several years between the end of the war and the beginning of lu, a Few Years is not enough time to process and even Begin to heal from all the trauma that came from that war. he's still paranoid. he can't go outside at night, even within the safety of the ranch fences—yes, he'll admit he's developed a fear of the dark over the years, terrified of traitors lunging at him from alleyways or from around corners

they all still take time to spar outside, working hard to hone skills, and when time gently reminds them that they don't Need to do that anymore, they all ,, look so shocked and dumbfounded. a lot of them still keep emergency potions in their bags that they take to town. several of them r armed at all times w Some sort of weapon on them, even in the house

legend is still in Adventure Mode and keeps buying useful tools for journeys he might need, even though he's never going on one again. wild realizes that he doesn't have to mold his recipes around what will give them all the biggest buff in strength or defense; they don't need that anymore. he can just make whatever tastes the best w Whatever he wants

u get it. they all slowly learn to Live, instead of survive. they help each other heal in a safe environment, in a world they no longer have to babysit. time has his boys again. gang's all here

[notnctu]

haechan: the cocky | vol 2

━ welcome home to the housemating smut series :)

☆ click the link above to read background info about this housemate!

☆ GENRE: smut, pwp ☆ DETAILS: fem!reader, college!au, housemate!au ☆ WARNINGS: explicit language, dirty talking, nicknames, dom!hyuck, penetration, oral (giving & receiving), slight degradation?, mentions of exhibitionist kink? ☆ WC: 3.6k  ☆ SYNOPSIS: after receiving haechan’s text messages, you hurry up to his room and the sexual tension is thicker than you can ever imagine. 

☆ AUTHORS NOTE: read vol 1 here if u havent already :) theres no plot yall its just smut,, this one a filthy one ha ha skjdhfgieas

When you enter Haechan’s room, his back faces you as he sits comfortably in his expensive gaming chair, clicking furiously at his mouse and practically abusing the poor device. “Why are you so worked up?” Your voice causes him to perk up, removing an ear from his headset. 

“Mark fucking sucks at this game.” Haechan rolls his eyes as he speaks directly into his mic and Mark’s tiny muffled voice shouts back at him. 

Leaning into Haechan’s face, his eyes leave his monitor momentarily to intently watch your actions. Your fingers grab hold of the built in mic and speaking lowly, you greet the other boy through the receiver. “Hi Mark.”

Haechan raises an eyebrow at your seductive tone and the happy smirk on your face when you hear Mark stammer back a faint, “h-hello, y/n.” 

“Mark, I gotta go.” Before even letting Mark protest and throw a fit, he’s hanging up the call and forfeiting his winning streak to finally finish what you two had started. You’re laying on Haechan’s bed with eyes that eat him right up, a look of lust and desire. 

His gaze bounces between the open door and the way your thin shirt does absolutely nothing to hide how erect your nipples have become. His signature face of disbelief: tongue in cheek and rolling his eyes, paired with a small scoff. 

“What? Are you cold or something?” He snickers, getting up to close the door.

“No... I’m just..” Propping up on your elbows, you glance briefly down at your shirt and then, away at the ground shamelessly. 

“Aroused? Turned on?” Haechan taunts as he leans down to hover above you, his fingers toying with the ends of the thin fabric. As much as you’re trying to avoid eye contact, he doesn’t allow for you to shy away for long.

“Maybe.” You gulp the pooling spit in the back of your throat, the tension rising in the room. “I came upstairs like you told me too.” Pouting, he finally has you fixated on him with a thumb on your chin. 

Making eye contact with him is not only incredibly intimate, but there is something mesmerizing and comforting in the way Haechan looks at you. “Right, my good girl did what she was told. How much longer can she keep that up?” His whisper is hot against your skin, but he doesn’t lean in any more. 

“Don’t test me, Hyuck.” You snap back gently, crossing your arms across your chest and almost immediately, Haechan pushes you lightly onto the bed. You yelp at the boldness, knowing that your bratty side might have edged him on.

“Hyuck....? Baby, we haven’t even started yet.” He smirks, and you wish for nothing more than to wipe it off his face. He has the absolute confidence to play with you all night if he wanted to. Cocky motherfucker. 

“Do something, please.” The whine in your voice catches his attention, only fueling his ego more than it has already inflated. 

“What does my pretty baby want me to do?” Haechan has the full audacity to sit back in his chair, legs spread wide and arms resting behind his head. He’s left you on the bed practically untouched, yet the moment you sit up, a small pool of wetness rushes in your panties.

He’s done nothing, but your body reacts to him too strongly for you to admit. “I want you to give me a kiss.” You mumble.

However, Haechan leaves no room for a pause. “Speak up.” His voice is low and dark as he watches you squirm in your shorts, your legs rubbing together for some friction. He just loves how needy he can get you to be.

“Give me a kiss.” A little louder this time, all the while being mindful at how thin the walls are. Haechan patiently waits for you to finish your beg, “please.”

He pats his lap for you to come sit, then opens his arms to invite you into his embrace. Your legs fall on either side of his thighs and his hands rests on your waist. Haechan peers up at the pout that hasn’t left your face and gently smiles. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

There’s a sense of rivalry when he uses that nickname, holding less of a soft implication than when he calls you baby. “You’re taking forever.” You groan, rocking against him with a frustrated whine.

However, he holds you steady by your hips and chuckles mockingly, “it wouldn’t be fun if I just gave it to you. I’m giving you more of an experience to remember the next time you want to rub one out.”

“Trust me, I’ll be fast forwarding these parts in my brain.” Rolling your eyes, your hands find themselves lightly on his chest. He feels rather solid through his black shirt, “you’ve been bulking up?”

“Yeah. Can you tell? Johnny has been waking my ass up early in the morning to go to the gym with him because Jaehyun has class.” Haechan presses you up against his torso and you’re impressed at how sturdy he feels.

“So that’s why we have two jugs of protein powder taking up counter space. Doyoung and I were concerned at how much the other two were consuming, but I guess the portion includes you now.” Your hands wrap around his neck to pull him unbelievably closer, the tips of your noses touching now.

Haechan stares at you with hooded eyes and breath mixing with your own. “What does it taste like?” Your question seems to hold a sexual innuendo, or it could be the tension in the air as you both try your hardest from devouring each other’s lips right then and there.

“Mmh, tastes like shit. Rather taste something else instead.” Haechan licks his lips and tilts his head only slightly. His mind is clouded with lustful, heavy thoughts of feeling your plushy lips against his own. And the possible taste of your tongue lapping with his brings him much excitement as well. 

“Should I try some?” The power has slightly shifted into your hands as Haechan seems to be in a trance from your proximity and sensual drop in tone. But you’re both wrapped up in each other’s scent of shampoo and it’s enough to drive you both hungry for one another. 

“Want your lips around something else.” His thumb pulls your bottom lip down just gently before slipping it into your open mouth. Your tongue circles his finger, slowly sucking to mimic the feeling of his cock. It sends tingles down to your lower abdomen and a small moan erupts from the back of Haechan’s throat. 

Something pokes at your inner thigh and without needing to look down, you already know how turned on Haechan has gotten. He won’t be able to wait it out anymore. “So pretty.” Haechan coos as he drops his finger from your lips. “Do you still want your kiss, baby?” 

“Of course.” You lean in thinking that Haechan is going to finally give you a good smooch on the lips, but he picks you up and tosses you onto the bed. He’s discarding your shorts and underwear, peeling it off your legs and tossing it somewhere in a corner. 

He spreads your legs wide open, “holy fuck, you’re dripping.” And you’re so close to telling him to stop exaggerating until he gathers slick from your hole and it unleashes a small waterfall cascading onto the bed sheets. “Since when were you this easily aroused?” 

Before you can retaliate, Haechan softly kisses your clit and slowly licks a long strip up your cunt. You arch into him, his lips pressing against you just a bit harder than the first time. Eyes are locked in on yours as he flicks delicate licks at your bundle of nerves. “Good girls get the best kinds of kisses.” 

He will never be able to get enough of your taste or your legs squirming at the jolts of pleasure that run down them. The fact that stands is that Haechan inexplicably loves pleasuring women and performing cunnilingus, that’s undeniable. But there’s something very special about the way your body reacts to his smallest gestures and sensual words, so responsive and almost like, your body knows how much it wants him. 

And if you two hadn’t been so cordial and polite about living with each other in the beginning and considerate of your other housemates, he would’ve fucked you a long time ago. It always felt as if Haechan was walking on thorns around you, making sure he didn’t cross the lines of making you feel uncomfortable. 

Nonetheless, your pajama shorts do a terrible job at covering you up or the small moments when your shirt would ride up your stomach, he always found his stares to linger. And not to mention, all the moments he has walked by to catch a glimpse of you masturbating. Truthfully, he’d been masturbating to the thought of you too and only to find out that you shared the same interest in him. 

You suppress your moans with your hand, afraid to risk the chance of getting caught by your other housemates. Nevertheless, your muffled moans encourage him to lick harder, building a quick rhythm. “Hyuck, please fuck me.” 

It’s agonizing the more he edges you closer to your release. Haechan is addicted to lapping your endless flow of juices that he almost chooses to ignore your breathless plea. He lets go and the knot of pleasure in your stomach dissipates for the time being, your chest rising and falling rapidly to catch your breath.

“I thought you lost your ability to speak for a second.” Haechan doesn’t mean it as a joking statement, it’s meant to instill slight humiliation in you and with a bit of a teasing tone in his darkness.

You don’t take his words to heart, “I can speak and I know what I want.” Your voice is brighter than before, until Haechan’s grin turns mischievous and he’s plotting his next few words carefully. 

“Use your smart words and tell me what you want then.” Taking off his clothes, his shaft slaps against his stomach with an angry red tip leaking precum.

The sight of his dick has you clenching around nothing and it’s obvious where your focus has shifted to. You mindlessly take off your shirt, “for a computer science major, you sure like words a lot.” 

“For someone who’s ruining my sheets, you sure like to verbally under compensate how much you want me.” Haechan rubs his tip at your entrance to gather lubrication, a small whine escapes his lips as he’s trying his best to hold back from ramming into your wet cunt.

“Hyuck, please. I want you to fuck me speechless.” A sparkle catches in his eye as he’s gleaming at how the dirty words spill from your pretty mouth. Pulling you up, he holds your head steady and lightly taps your lips with his tip.

“Speechless? I guess you won’t be able to whine with my dick in your mouth.” And slowly, you invite his hot shaft into your warmth and the saltiness hits your palette. A long string of profanities fill the air when you lick the underside of his tip and hollow your cheeks to suck more of him.

“Do you think you can take the whole thing?” He moans and it shocks you how raspy his voice suddenly got. His hand is rests on the back of your head lightly, patting and smoothing your hair lovingly. If it isn’t for that lost lustful look in his eyes that represent an innocent curiosity, you wouldn’t have awarded his request. 

Opening your throat, he slowly guides you further down his length. Haechan’s reactions are ungodly satisfying as he throws his head back toward the ceiling and instantly tightens his grip in your hair. 

“Fuck, fuck. Okay, I’m done messing around.” He manages to chuckle playfully, pulling you off his dick as a string of saliva draws from the disconnect. Pulling you by your hair, he tilts your head upward at him and he leans down to kiss you: open mouth, tongues lapping, spit mixing.

The kiss ignites a flame in your chest being that it’s probably one of the hottest kisses you’ve ever experienced. Haechan’s dominance is caring, yet strong enough to remind you just how rough he has the ability to be. 

“Lay on your side.” You do as you’re told as Haechan unravels a condom to slip on. A feeling of excitement bubbles up in your core, you’re finally getting fucked. It’s not the first time you and Haechan have done penetration, but it’s definitely not enough times to satisfy your lust for him.

With your body facing the door, Haechan lays down behind you, a hand on your hip to press your ass against his shaft. “How cute. We’re spooning.” He taunts menacingly and reaching around to rub your swollen clit. 

You yelp and Haechan covers your mouth instantly. You’re a moaning mess in his hands as his fingers work magic stimulation down below. Every squirm has you bumping your ass up into his hard on. 

Just as his tip enters your wet hole, a knock on the door has you both halting your movements. Your heart is racing at the interruption and it’s not going to look too good with Haechan’s dick barely up your cunt and hand hovering over your clit. There will be no lie that can get you two out of this naked situation.

“Haechan, can I borrow your speaker?” It’s the voice of Jaemin. Of all the times that he actually comes home, you’re midway having sex with Haechan. 

It doesn’t seem to bother Haechan though, maybe a bit agitated that someone interrupted the tension, but overall he doesn’t seem phased. Then, you remember all the times you’ve knocked on the other boys’ doors during their hookups and it’s gotten to the point that no one really cares. “For what!?” 

“To use in the shower.” A jiggle on the doorknob panics you, but Haechan is lifting your leg in the air and enters you fully without a warning. You bite back a moan as Haechan buries his face into your neck. The initial stretch from his girth stings with pleasure and you relax into him when you adjust to his size. “Why is your door locked?” 

“Fuck, is this making you more wet?” Haechan whispers lowly into your ear and a smile grows against your skin.

“Shut up.” You mumble, clenching around him every time Jaemin tries to open the door. He starts moving his hips into you, long thrust that jolt your body every time he enters. 

Haechan laughs, “it’s in the bathroom already, leave me alone! I’m with someone.” He’s looking down at your eyes rolling to the back of your head and the tight grip you have on the sheets. You feel all of him, his cock fills you up to the brim, grazing upon your sweet spot. 

Jaemin scoffs on the other side, “okay. Use protection, kids.” And his shadow disappears from under the door. Haechan removes his hand and his hot moans fill your ears.

“No wonder why you leave the door fucking open. You want us to see you, don’t you?” His hips ram harder into your pussy, rougher and faster than before. The soreness begins to occupy your lower regions from how much Haechan stretches you. His dirty words aid you closer to your release. “Imagine if I didn’t lock the door and Jaemin saw me balls deep in you. You’d like that, huh? What a slut.” 

Your legs feel like jelly as a familiar exhilaration surges through your limbs. “Speechless now, aren’t you?” Haechan smirks and drops your leg. Hands hold you by your waist as he bottoms out, his balls slapping your thigh slightly. Once he’s nestled in deep, he starts rubbing circles on your clit once again and you’re squeezing around him so well that he doesn’t need to move. 

The added sensation brings you to your edge, along with the feeling of fullness. Without a fail, he always makes sure he takes care of you first. “I’m gon-- cum.” Words are jumbled in your scattered, empty brain. The release is on the tip of your tongue, the tips of your toes, Haechan’s rhythm on your bud doesn’t falter.

“Cum on my dick, baby. I want to feel you lose control.” His final encouragement leads you to your demise as your pussy clenches around him sporadically and your legs shaking from the pleasure. But it doesn’t stop, Haechan starts fucking you through your orgasm, so fast that it almost has you crying out of the intensity. His nails dig into your skin. 

“Oh-- shit! Hyuck, I--” Haechan slams your hips down to match his and you’re holding onto the sheets for your life. The toe curling pleasure overwhelms you and you can’t tell, but you’re cumming again. It just never seems to stop.

With a last grunt and full thrust, you feel his dick pumping inside your walls. He kisses your shoulder tenderly and smooths over the moon crescents he left, “shit. I’m sorry for calling you out like that.”

“It’s fine. It was hot.” He pulls out and an emptiness disappoints you. Turning around to face him, you latch on and give him the biggest hug. “But I really just am forgetful! I don’t leave it open on purpose....”

“Baby, you say that, but do you also forget that you live with five other horny men?” He kisses your temples and sits you both up.

“That’s why I do it when you guys aren’t home.” Getting up, you start putting on Haechan’s shirt and slipping on your panties. “Do you think Jaem is done showering?”

“Probably, that guy uses 2 in 1 shampoo and body wash so he just lathers and rinses.” Haechan ties the condom and tosses it into the trash can. He slips on a pair of fresh briefs and starts removing his soiled bed sheets. “Come back and help me make my bed when you’re done.” 

Nodding, you slyly walk out of Haechan’s room. You turn the knob as quietly as you can and shut the door softly. When you spin around, Jaemin walks down the hall with a towel around his naked shoulders and his black hair wet from his shower. His toned body is glistening with droplets as his sweatpants hang low on his hips and the waistband of his underwear peek out. 

You’re so distracted by his appearance that you don’t realize he’s caught you leaving Haechan’s room. “Is that Haechan’s shirt?” He quizzes you, a smirk twitching his lips automatically at your doe eyed expression. “And are you not wearing pants, y/n?” 

“I see you’re done with your shower.” You say quickly and you dash away to the bathroom. The moment you shut the door, you’re surprised by a random girl on the toilet.

“Sorry!” You both yell, covering your eyes at the sudden intrusion on both ends. 

“I didn’t realize there wasn’t a lock on the door.” She says and you turn to face the door to give her some privacy.

“Yeah, it’s been broken for awhile now. We usually just put a sticky note on the door to show that it’s preoccupied.” You don’t even question who she is, denoting that it’s either Jaehyun or Johnny’s lady friend. “I’ll just wait outside.” 

“Wait, do you live with Johnny?” She asks and truthfully, you’re not ready to go back outside in any chance that you’ll bump into Jaemin again. The bathroom is where you intended to hide until enough time is passed, while also doing your business. 

“Yeah. We’re housemates.” 

“Ah, that’s comforting to know that there’s another girl here. I thought it was just a house of guys, so I was a bit worried coming over.” Her voice sounds reassured and you’re exhaling out all the anxious air you had pent up since seeing Jaemin.

“That’s good. Men, am I right?” You try laughing to lighten the mood and surprisingly through the steamy suffocation, she giggles back. 

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve never seen so many bottles of AXE body spray in one bathroom.” Living in a house full of men, you realize you slightly miss the bathroom talks with your girl friends. 

“Look in the tub, there are four bottles of men body wash, yet they always use mine! It’s a hoax.” You announce excitedly, despite still facing the door.

“I have the same one! I fucking knew Johnny smelled like white strawberries and mint, but I couldn’t tell if the scent was from me or him.” 

Maybe sometimes, it isn’t so bad living with a group of attractive men. You get to laugh with their hookups in the bathroom! And before you know it, Johnny is knocking on the bathroom door to the fit of giggles and questioning why there are two voices. 

“I thought you had left without saying goodbye.” He says.

“Damn, the sex was that bad.” You joke and Johnny fakes a laugh through the door.

“Let me know if Haechan is any better, y/n.” You gasp at his statement, but don’t respond. The flushing of the toilet and the sink running being the only noises in the room. You’re stunned. Knowing Jaemin’s big mouth, he can’t keep a secret to save his life.

“It’s nice meeting you, y/n.” Johnny’s hookup gives you a warming hug before leaving and when she opens the door to join him, you give Johnny the middle finger as your form of response. 

“Nice meeting you too!” You yell back to her and shut the door to finally do your business. 

Great, now everyone knows you fucked your housemate. 

[t0shii]

hi could i request kita, tendou, and mattsun and it’s your first time sleeping at their place and they find out you cant sleep in the dark and need to sleep with a night light?

% s/o who can't sleep in the dark

.! timeskip! kita, tendou, matsuwaka (sep) x gn!r

.! fluff/ mention of food in kita's, mention of rainstorm in tendou's, water drinking in mattsun's- not proofread.

.! hi! ty for the request <3 sorry u had to wait so long :(( (idk why these ended up to be so long)

kita

to say you were nervous to stay the night as your boyfriends place for the first time would be an understatement... your heart raced as kita placed your back on the ground to unlock the front door, "make yourself at home." he opens the door, "down there is the bathroom... and that's my room." he shows you around and you crack a joke about how clean his house is compared to your apartment. you both decide on a movie night with take out which he insisted you choose.

you yawn and rub your eyes as the third movie of the night ends. you'd been laying in between his legs, back pressed against his chest. you sit up and he follows, wrapping his arms around you and perching his chin on your shoulder, "sleepy? we can head to bed if you want." he mumbles into your neck before planting a kiss there, "mhm, let me change first though." you try standing up to reach your bag but his hold on you doesn't loosen, "i have clothes you can wear." he says bluntly, standing up and bringing you with him. he leads you to his room, rummages through his dresser and hands you a shirt and shorts, "these should fit, yeah? i'll leave so you can change."

you start to internally panic as you both settle into his bed, and he begins turning off every light in the room. suddenly theres only one bedside lamp illuminating the room, he reaches to turn it off and lays down, pulling your body against his which makes you giggle. "good night." he mumbles into your hair, "night." you sigh. 'maybe if you close your eyes you'll forget it's dark' you think to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut. thirty minutes pass you're still awake. you sigh, a little louder than intended, "y/n? are you still awake?" you mentally scold yourself, "yeah" he props himself up with his elbow; you angle your head back to look at him, "what's wrong?" the sleep in his voice evident. "well... uhm... i..." his eyes soften as he notices you becoming nervous and he cups your cheek with his free hand, "you can tell me angel."

you can help but lean into his touch "it's embarrassing" "not it's not" "okay well... i can't sleep in the dark. ever since i was a kid, i've never been able to." you can see eyebrows furrow from the small amount of moon light peeking through his curtains, "why didn't you tell me before i turned all the lights off?" he frowns, reaching over to turn the lamp on, relief filling your chest at the illuminated room. "because it's embarrassing." you mumble as he lays back down and pulls you against his chest again, "it's not embarrassing, baby, at least not to me. so no need to embarrassed, i won't judge you for i and besides, i don't mind sleeping with a light on." he places and kiss on your temple and you sleep well, secure and comfortable in his arms.

tendou

you'd been over to tendou's apartment plenty of times before and every time you made up some lame excuse for why you couldn't stay the night, "i need to feed my cat" "my clothes are still in the washer" literally anything to save you from the embarrassment of having to tell him you couldn't sleep in the dark. tonight was different though, with a storm passing over town and not looking like it's letting up any time soon, he wouldn't let you leave. "ten, i dont have any clothes here, my cat's by herself-" he cuts you off "babe, babe- you can wear something of mine if you want and i'm sure she'll be fine. she's a cat." he holds you firmly in your cuddling position on his couch. "fine." you grumble.

really, if he had to be honest, it hurt tendou's feelings a little bit that you were always against the idea of staying the night with him- but he had no choice but to celebrate this small victory and thank the rain storm, "it's for your safety, angel." he says proudly, placing a kiss on your cheek. you choose to ignore the nervous feeling creeping up your belly and rest your head back on his chest, "yeah yeah let's just continue with the show, i'm invested in the plot." "you mean the hot main characters?" "exactly... the plot." you giggle while he pretends to be offended. three hours later you find your eyelids getting heavier and heavier until you can barely keep them open and your boyfriend seems to take notice quickly.

"are you falling asleep on me? we haven't even finished season 3 yet." he mumbles and you let out a groan, "it's two in the morning, of course i'm getting sleepy." you rub your eyes, "i'm just giving you a hard time, babe. you're the one who wanted to stay up though but i guess we can go to bed now." you sit up and stands from his position on the couch and helps you up, "c'mon sleepy head, you can make it." he grins taking your hand and leading you to his room. he lets you sit on his bed while he looks through his dresser, "hmm is this shirt okay?" you nod as he hands you an old band shirt "i'll be right back." he leaves the room with his own change of clothes. once he's back you both lay down, "oh babe, i almost forgot, you wanna see something cool? he gets out of the bed and you respond with an "mhm" as he begins to turn all the lights off, a familiar nervousness creeping up your belly as the room gets darker and darker.

"okay okay, so i don't sleep well in pitch dark but the lamp is just too much light so i got this-" he plugs in a small object into the wall, stars illuminate his bedroom ceiling as well as your other surroundings and he smiles wide, "see it makes stars, theres a moving option too but i don't really like it that much. oh, and don't make fun of me." he says seriously, sliding back into bed with you, arms wrapping loosely around your waist, "well i can't make fun of you for that, satori." "i was just hoping you wouldn't, honestly." he chuckles. "babe, do you wanna know i always avoided staying the night here?" you ask, ready to confess your secret. "i didn't wanna force it out of you but now that you're ready, yes." you both turn your heads to look at each other. "the truth is, i was embarrassed because i also cant sleep in the dark, been that way for as long as i can remember. but i'm glad theres someone i can relate to." "how ironic" he mumbles, placing his face into the crook of your neck. you sleep like a baby in his arms that night.

matsuwaka

you were over at issei's place so he could help you study for an exam coming up, honestly you didn't want to stay as late as you did and when the both of you finally noticed the time he just wouldn't let you leave. "c'mon baby, it's too late. it would be irresponsible of me to let you go home now, i don't mind you staying the night." he hugs you tight like you'll disappear if he lets go, face buried in the crook of your neck. you sigh in defeat, "okay fine." his head perks up as you say it and he smiles at you, "i can get you something to sleep in if you want."

that's how you got in this situation, awake hours after your boyfriend had already fallen asleep. finally after two hours of laying in the dark listening to his snores, you sigh quietly, slipping out of his loose embrace and tip toeing your way to his kitchen to get a glass of water and sat at the dining table. you'd been sitting there for about thirty minutes before you heard the bedroom door creak open and heavy, rushed footsteps make their way towards you. "y/n?" you recognize a panic in your boyfriend's groggy voice, "i'm in here." you croak out hearing a sigh of relief escape his lips once he sees you. you look up at him, his hair was an absolute curly mess and his eye lids were droopier than they already were, he was obviously still half asleep. "y/n there you are. he sits in a chair next to you, "you scared me, i woke up and you were gone. i thought you left." he leans his head on your shoulder, "sorry." you mumble, bringing a hand up to run through his hair a few times resulting in a groan from the man.

"'s okay, how long have you been awake?" "hmm about two and a half hours now." you reply honestly, "what? baby, why didn't you wake me up?" he raises his head and you both turn to look at each other, "you were tired, issei-" he interrupts you, "so? you shouldn't have had to be awake by yourself." "it's fine, i knew it was gonna happen, i knew i wouldn't be able to sleep" "why's that?" you sigh, internally scolding yourself for the hole you've dug yourself into. "i... i cant sleep in the dark." he looks at you for a moment, "that's all? that's what kept you up this whole time?" he asks and you nod. mattsun can't help the grin that makes his way onto his lips, "baby, you should've just told me, i could've kept a light on for you." "no- look i shouldn't have told you now you'll think i'm immature." you mumble, looking away from him. "no no baby, it's totally normal, honestly and i don't think any less of you. i just wish you would've told me sooner because then we'd both be sleeping right now. he hugs you before standing the both of you up, "c'mon we're going to bed." he grabs your glass and leads you back to his bed. you sleep in his embrace, table lamp illuminating the room the rest of the night.

[palbabor-writes]

OK so please consider typical Shig/reader where theres unspoken mutual attraction and they're not quite together but it's Post-kamino Shig, like IMMEDIATE post-kamino where he's still processing and incredibly vulnerable from just losing his sensei. I've had this in my head for a while but IDK how it would go and I think you'd do it justice (just ignore this if u don't wanna i just needed to put it out there 😌)

ugh, i loved this idea. where do you find them lydia? they just live in your mind rent free and i want to go to there. gosh, thank you for the ask.

Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Adult language, SMUT, NSFW/18+ only, mild angst, pivotal life moments, TW: drinking/drug use, masturbation, blow jobs, face fucking, spanking/mild pain play, vaginal fingering, cunniliginus, overstimulation, switching, dirty talk, loss of virginity (if you squint), dominance, vaginal sex     

Word Count: 11,800

Notes: oh man. so, if the word count didn’t give it away, this is plot, with a hefty dose of porn. in my mind, this is all part of the grieving process for shigaraki and he’s having a rough time coming to terms with what he’s needing to do. yeah, AFO supported him and enabled him to build a following, but he also hid all of the major pieces from him (i.e. the doctor & gigantomachia) so i can see him mourning for AFO as a teacher & as a psudo loved one, after all, at the end of that chapter he’s clutching those hands to him like he’ll fall apart without them. 

Edited by the lovely Lydia: @kugutsuu. she is the best and if you’re not reading her works, all I have to say is: YOU SHOULD BE. 

Mise en Place

/mē-ˌzäⁿ-ˈpläs/ noun or verb  a French culinary phrase which means "putting in place" or "everything in its place.”

This has got to be the strangest, hole in the wall, bar you’ve ever worked at. 

The patrons are touchy and most seem downright dangerous. The whole lot of them are more like mid level criminals than the usual haggard, overworked, regular, citizens you find in local watering holes.  Meanwhile, the gentleman who runs the day to day operations shares more similarities with a will o’ the wisp than a man, and the bar itself is smack dab in one of the seediest parts of town. 

The liquor selection, however, is top of the line. Some of the labels you haven’t seen outside of posh hotels or high class country clubs, and many of the older bottles are rarities. Honestly, there are so many of the high brow bottles that you’re not sure who to ask about the rail selection. There’s no real order to the place and it’s the most free reign you’ve ever been given with your mixology experiments. There’s not even a listing of drinks to go off of. But, if the disgruntled evening crowd is happy, then so is the upper management. All they ask is that you lock up before you leave.

No, nothing about this place makes sense. But, it does pay well and, right now, that’s the only thing you need to worry about.

There’s one other barkeep, a stogy man named Akio. He usually works the day shift, but late yesterday afternoon, he’d given you a call and asked if the two of you could swap for the duration of next week. At first, you’d balked, worried you’d need to schmooze with an unfamiliar bunch of regulars, who’d then decline to tip simply because you were new. But, Akio had sweetened the pot with the promise of $20,000 yen, so, you’d agreed. 

“It’s fairly quiet in the afternoon,” Akio reassured you. “It’s really just putting away shipment and serving the odd customer who happens to pass by. The only thing...well, I’m sure you’ve met him. You’ve been working there for over a month, no way you could miss him.” 

“Who?” you ask, twirling your spoon in your mid-morning coffee, curious, but not wanting to seem overly eager in your questioning. You like your night shift and you’re not wanting this to become a regular swap. You detest having to lug heavy boxes to and fro, pulling liquor and checking lot numbers, ick. Plus, if it really is that slow in the afternoons, it would only be a matter of time before Kurogiri would come after you with a duster and ask you to clean the upper shelves. Yeah, no, thanks. This would be a one week deal, ONLY.

“His name is Shigaraki. He’s, er, different. I suppose you’ll meet him soon, if you haven’t already.”

“Shigaraki? No, that name doesn’t ring a bell. Is he--”

“I have to go, my son is here. Thanks again for the swap and talk soon, (Y/N).”

The line clicks and you let your phone fall from your ear, clattering the metal and plastic along your kitchen table. Shigaraki, you think, taking a scalding sip of your coffee, no, that’s not a name you’ve heard before. Wonder what it is about him that has Akio so on edge. It’s not like him to give you, er, whatever that strange heads-up had been. Either way, it would take more than a vague descriptor like different, to spook you off. 

******

Akio was right, on all counts, about the haze of monotony that permeated the afternoon shift at the bar. 

Well, right on everything except a sighting of that elusive Shigaraki guy. No, the whole afternoon it’s just been you, Kurogiri, and one, rather sloshed old man, who you’ve long since cut off, and propped at the far end of the bartop. It’s been a dull, slow, day. Thank God you’d taken that extra cash from Akio, or this might not even turn out to be worth your while. 

You’re slipping another bottle of whiskey on the lower shelf when you hear a barstool scrape back. You turn at the sound, your head already lifted and a small, friendly, smile lingering on your lips. There’s a lanky guy, dressed all in black with a mop of wavy white hair, working himself onto the small seat. His head is lowered and he hasn’t bothered to look up at you, not yet, anyway. He looks, not really young, but you can’t tell and you’re not about to let some underaged kid worm his way in here. You’ve had enough of those punks sneaking in in the evening, thank you. 

“Gimme a shot of scotch,” the man says, his voice low, with a quiet rasp racing along the tone. It’s a strange timbre and it makes you pause, your eyes scanning those pearlescent strands of hair that are hiding his face from view.

“Hmph,” you snort, arching a brow at his attempts at concealment. He must be underage, who comes up to a barkeep with a ducked head and demands a scotch? 

“Let me give you a piece of advice, don’t come into a bar and immediately refuse to make eye contact with the bartender. We’re like animals at the zoo, we startle easily and don’t like surprises. And, with your face tucked like that, I can’t gauge your age. So, before I get you that unnamed and unbranded scotch, I’m gonna to need to see some ID.”

The man lifts his head at your preamble and you feel your breath catch at the raw annoyance that’s etched across his scarred and cracked face. His eyes are a rich red, closer to ruby and they latch onto yours, insistent and sharp. It’s a deeply intense stare and you can’t seem to pull yourself away, your brow furrowing at his sudden shift in demeanor. 

“I don’t have an ID,” he snaps, his lips lifting into a snarl, showing you the vivid whiteness of his teeth. 

You lick your lips and his gaze follows the motion, eyes lowering, freeing you from that uneasy imprisonment he’d abruptly ensnared you in.

Your heart is beating rapidly against your throat and you shake your head, refocusing your bewildering reaction to this guy's presence. “I-I haven’t heard that one before,” you say, taking a few steadying breaths and tossing a dirty glass in the dishwasher, looking for any task that will let you step away from this strange interaction. 

“You must be new,” he says, leaning back and hunching those dark shoulders. You watch him out of the corner of your eye and shut the dishwasher door, hitting the button to run a cycle. 

“Nope,” you correct him, pulling out two fresh glasses and lining them up on the bartop, reaching for the rail scotch. “I’ve worked here for over a month.”

“Never seen you before.”

“That makes two of us,” you reply, flipping the bottle up and filling both glasses with four counts of the dark liquor. You press one to him and lift the other for yourself. The man narrows his eyes at you and looks pointedly at the glass in your hands. 

“You supposed to drink on the clock?”

You laugh and he shifts back at the sound, his head bowing forward, another scowl lifting his lips. Realizing you must have made him uncomfortable, you step toward him and clumsily clink your glass against his, tilting your head at the surrealness of this whole conversation. “They don’t really care what I do. Come on, stranger who has no ID, bottoms up.”

He looks from you to the shot a few times before finally relenting and taking the vessel in a strange four fingered grip, his middle finger arched carefully away. Once you’re sure he’s actually going to toast with you, you sling your shot back, enjoying the sharp burn of the rich liquor. 

You’re about to ask your new drinking companion another question when you hear his chair scrape back. By the time you’re stepping toward him, he’s already pacing down a back hallway, blending into the darkness and disappearing from your sight.

“Um! You can’t...I don’t think you can go back there. And you gotta pay, dude! Hey--”

“He doesn’t need to pay.” 

You always hear Kurogiri before you see him and today is no exception. He’s standing at the entrance to the back of the bartop and he’s watching the path the strange young man took, his shifting face turned from you. You cock your head at his assertion and swiftly place your empty glass into the soapy water of the filled sink. He likely saw you take the shot, but you’re not about to leave evidence behind. 

“What do you mean?” You ask, watching as the wisp like man turns and steps toward you, his amber slits watchful. It’s like he’s sizing you up and you shift on your feet, uncomfortable at the frank, open, assessment.  

“He’s Tomura Shigaraki, and he owns this bar.”

******     

You’re off for the next two days and the wait, the silence, is abjectly harrowing. You can’t sit down, can’t relax, can’t focus. The one time you decide to get overly familiar, of fucking course, it would be with the owner. But no one has called, and no one has sent you any messages. The empty static of your job's reticence doesn’t alleviate your nerves. 

Who knows, they might want to act out the sick power play of having you show up for your shift, only be fired as soon as you darken the doorway.

The next afternoon, you take a familiar route to the bar, your feet tapping hollowly along the steps and alleyways that wind to the rusty entrance. You come in the front, blinking against the darkness, and lock the door behind you. Everything is quiet. But, in forty minutes, the open sign will switch on and you need to get your bar set up, plus slap on a little bit of makeup. You’re so lost in thought that you’re almost to the long bartop when you spot him.

It’s Tomura Shigaraki. He’s sitting at the same bar stool and his head turns as you approach, those unearthly red eyes lingering over you. It’s a different look, very, very removed from that harsh glare he’d given you the other day. He looks less hostile and more, well, curious. 

You give him a cursory nod and pad behind the high counter, taking the final glasses out of the dishwasher and removing the stoppers from all the open liquor bottles. He’s still watching you and you can feel his gaze as it bores into your back, your side, your front. You attempt to ignore him, but the constant threat of those insistent red eyes is beginning to frustrate you. Finally, once you’ve replaced the cash drawer, you lift your gaze to his. 

“What is it?” Your voice sounds waspish, but you don’t care.

“Nothing,” he replies, leaning forward and propping his chin on his palm, not breaking that unsettling leer. 

“So stop staring at me,” you bristle, unsure why your heart is starting to beat a rapid tattoo against your ribs. You don’t know this guy. Sure, he’s mysterious and almost handsome, in a dark horse kinda way, but there’s no reason for him to give you this odd staredown. You’ve done absolutely nothing to warrant this attention, well, besides drinking on the job, but he could just fire you for that, if it was so troublesome. Either way, he should either speak up, or knock it off. 

He smirks at your impudence and murmurs a raspy, “No,” back, his head tilting, waiting for your next move. 

“You’re a real charmer, you know that?” You scoff, crossing your arms and jutting your chin defiantly. 

“Whatever you say,” he breathes, that smile of his deepening, making his vermillion eyes shine. And, just like that, the two of you wander into a stilted game of give and take. 

For the first few days, he makes sure he’s there before you arrive for the last of your afternoon shifts, his dark back already perched over the bartop as you shut the door behind you. Then, when you transition back to the evening shifts, he’s there too, sitting at that familiar perch, his eyes always, always watching, observing. You continue to ignore him and he seems to relish your agitated silence, flashing you dark smirks and quiet laughs.

Finally, two weeks into this stagnated stalemate, you make a point to strike up a real conversation with him. He’s obviously taken aback by your first few questions, his eyes wide and jaw tense, but he plays along. 

Over time, the two of you carefully erect a haphazard friendship. And that chair of his? That center barstool? He used to not mind if another person was sitting in it when he arrived late, but recently that’s all changed. Now he guards it ferociously. Snapping and glaring at anyone who is stupid enough to drift into it. 

Along with the lingering looks and burgeoning, almost flirty, dialogue you’ve pushed him into, he’s also gotten very demanding of your attention. If you spend too much time talking with another customer, or with Kurogiri, he pouts and darkens until you return, his tense form losing that sharpness.  It's almost like he’s got a crush on you, but he’s not sure what to do with the newfound sensation, lost and confounded by your teases and grins. 

Most people, you notice, give him a wide berth, but not you. No, you like his keen wit and heated musings. He’s fascinating and you want to see more. And in his flustered confusion, he lets you lean in, blinking and wide eyed at your open, flagrant interest in him.

******   

As the weeks drift into summer, things start to change at the bar. 

There’s some atypical deposit of power that’s been bestowed upon the place. People you’ve never seen before, begin to frequent the premises, sharing videos and whispered conversations about that man, Chizome Akaguro, better known to the general public as the Hero Killer. 

Tomura flits between several, dark moods, clutching his newly injured shoulder and murmuring complaints about hero society, All Might and the Hero Killer. Apparently, there had been an altercation between the two of them and Tomura didn’t hide his ire, his agitation from you. No, he would vent to you, his voice gravel and ash as he snarled his rage.  

Then, as if things couldn’t get any stranger, one evening a young girl begins to hang around, pestering you for a soda and prattling on and on about blood. Another new guy slips in a few hours later, his skin marred by thick, ragged burns and staples. He’s quiet, rudely demanding a shot and nursing it in a corner, his bright blue eyes flashing as he stares vacantly out at the crowd by the well. 

A quiet man, called Spinner, asks you for a water, and you acquiesce, watching as his green hands wrap around the glass, downing the liquid in a quick gulp. Later, there’s a robust, loud, clearly confused guy, wearing a skin tight black bodysuit loitering by your bartop. He keeps entreating you for a drink, then tells you to buzz off seconds later. Exasperated, you plunk a whole bottle down beside his glass and continue on with your work, ignoring his chatter. 

Finally, a man in a white mask and a top hat rounds out the strange posse and the group gathers together, hovering around Tomura, asking questions and listening to his rasping answers. 

Thankfully, the rag-tag group leaves soon after closing, all of them shouldering their way back out into the night. You shake your head as the door closes behind them, gathering the collection of dirty glasses they left in their wake. Only Tomura remains, sipping meditatively on his drink, his red eyes foggy and unfocused. You know from experience that it’s not a good time to ask him questions, so you continue with your closing duties, keeping your eyes down.

Something is going on, that much is clear. But, unless you could worm the information out of Tomura, you’d likely never fully know all of the details. Part of you warns that it’s likely dangerous. Many of the people who haunt the bar are low level villains or brokers, not a winning combination if you’re wanting to stay out of the fray, and on the right side of the law. 

You finish wiping everything down and return to Tomura, asking him softly if you can wash his empty glass. His eyes lift to yours and the expression that greets you almost makes you want to reach out and cup his cheek. He looks tired, worn thin and so, so needy. You’ve never seen him like this. It almost feels like he’s showing you something he’s never revealed to anyone else, a vulnerability that only you can see. He’s giving you access to a quiet secret that can hang between the two of you, safe in the knowledge that he can trust you with it. That urge to stroke a finger down his roughed brow rises again, but you shove the impulse away, rattled by your sudden, visceral, reaction to him. 

To distract yourself, you snatch up his glass, and turn from the intensity of his stare, a slow prickle of gooseflesh trembling along your skin. As you run hot water and soap over the vessel, you feel your heart begin to pound and you chance another peek at Tomura’s quiet form. As usual, he’s watching you, but he looks unfocused again, that broken vulnerability tucked away. You want to ask him if he’s ok, but before you can croak the words out, he pushes his stool back and paces down the dark hallway, leaving you alone and bewildered. 

******

A few days later, you ask Kurogiri if you can sneak away for a minute, you need a break. The bar has been packed since nine and you could use a quick breather. It’s the first night Tomura hasn’t stopped by and his absence has bothered you. You missed his grumpy quips and his persistent glances. All this time, you’d thought it was just him that was catching any kind of feelings, but it looks like he’s somehow managed to nag his way into your psyche, too. 

You take the back stairs quietly and let yourself out onto the alleyway balcony, climbing the rickety fire escape to the rooftop. You’d found the access to the roof your second week and it’s still your favorite place in the whole bar. On a clear night, you can see all the way to downtown Tokyo. It’s always quiet this high up, tranquil and serene. You brace yourself against the concrete wall and watch the lights of the city glimmer, like distant jewels, in the darkness.

You pull a small joint from your pant pocket and flick your lighter on, setting the edge of the rolling paper alight and taking a slow drag. The inhale fills your lungs with a light pressure and you savor the feeling before blowing a thin line of smoke into the night. You get a few more hits in before you hear the fire escape stairs rattle, signaling that someone is coming your way. You debate dampening your roach, but you don’t want to waste it, so you tuck the smoldering paper in your other hand, maneuvering it out of sight. 

The white shine of his hair always gives him away. 

Tomura hops over the ledge and his eyes are already lifting, searching for yours as he stands. You arch an eyebrow at his tense stance and you can’t help your giddy smile. “Everything ok?” 

“Kurogiri said you were taking a break,” he replies, dipping his long fingers into his pockets and sauntering over to the patch of concrete you’re braced against. 

“Yeah,” you confirm, waiting until he’s closer to lift the joint back to your lips, taking a steadying pull and scooting over, so he can fit beside you on the wall. “It’s busy, and I’ve been slinging drinks all night. Just wanted to decompress for a bit.”

Tomura doesn’t reply, but he does slot himself close, the warmth of his broad shoulder radiating against yours. The two of you drift into a companionable silence, and the only sounds that greet you is the quiet hush of traffic below and your inhales and exhales of smoke. 

“You got another meeting?” you ask, crossing your arms and pressing minutely closer, enjoying the distant shiver Tomura gifts you. 

“No,” he murmurs, his voice low. You think that might be the end of the conversation but he continues a few seconds later, his head tilting toward yours, those red eyes scanning your upturned face. “They’re on a mission. I’m not able to participate. It will need to be like a SIM game. They are the pieces that I’ll move over the board, they’ll act to my battle plan.”

You turn to him, your eyes wide. “So, they’re just...pawns? Little NPC’s that don’t matter?”

Tomura laughs and his teeth gleam in the moonlight and distant shine of the neon lights. “Of course not. Do I look that heartless? No, they’re valuable players and if this goes right, we’ll be able to take on the next level with a decided edge.” 

You let that last comment hover, pausing to take another huff, your eyes lowered, brooding over his words. “So, you’re their vanguard leader?”

“Sure,” Tomura nods, “We can’t keep grinding each mission, hoping to pick up any XP these heroes happen to drop. We need to make waves of our own.”

“Oh? Like the Hero Killer?”

“No,” Tomura snarls, his arm tensing beside yours, a hand rising to scritch at his scarred neck agitatedly. “Nothing like him. We’re looking past him. He was too short sighted, so busy following his own code of justice that he didn’t notice he was breeding more heroes, not putting them down.”

“Hmm,” you sigh, thumping your head lightly against the concrete behind you. “That is true. But, you can’t deny he’s brought up some serious divisions. It’s funny, really. It makes me think of this little hero toy I had when I was younger. 

It was of an older hero, he prolly died long ago, but I loved that toy when I was a kid. Then, as I got older, it stopped mattering and one day, without me even realizing it, it lost its importance entirely. I wonder if hero society will ever shift to that. With the fractures that have been seen at UA and all over Japan, it could be a matter of time before real change starts to happen. Anyway, I wasn’t meaning to grill you on your, uh, projects. I was--”

“What toy?” 

His question nonpluses you and you cock your head, blinking up at his peripheral stare. “Um, I think it was of that fast hero, O’clock. It was my older brothers originally, but he passed it down to me. No idea where it is now. It likely got lost in a move or accidentally left behind.”

Tomura lifts his eyes from yours, his jaw clenching and a slow gulp echoing down his lean throat. You watch the bob of his Adam’s apple, fascinated by the movement. That urge to touch him is back and you have to clench your fingers into your palms to quiet it. 

You’re so distracted by your primal reaction to him, that you miss his question and he has to repeat it, his eyes slipping back to yours, the red dark. 

“What?” you ask, blinking against the acuteness of his gaze. 

“Can I take a hit of that?”

“Of what...oh.” You lift the half smoked joint and chuckle at yourself, pressing the smoldering paper toward him. “Sure. You had one before?”

“Does it matter?” He scoffs, carefully taking the white roach from you and raising it to his chapped lips.

“Go slow,” you warn as he begins to inhale, his eyes drifting to a half mast, concentrating.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he grumbles, pulling a tentative, but heavy, drag into his lungs.

“Fine,” you scoff playfully, “do what you want. But don’t blame me when you’re coughing up a lung.”

He rolls his eyes, but doesn’t heed your advice and, seconds later, he’s clutching at his throat, dropping the joint onto the broken gravel and concrete as he heaves. Instinctively, you thump him on his back and run your palm soothingly over his lean shoulder blades, surprised by the corded muscle that greets you. For a relatively thin guy, he’s certainly packing some strength under that unassuming form of his. 

Tomura startles at your touch and he yanks himself away from you, his head ducked, eyes fastening onto yours, the irises accusatory and bright, burning with some underlying emotion that you’re too nervous to name right now. 

“Uh,” you begin, aghast that you’ve upset him, “m-my bad…”

But, he’s already leaving, his head firmly turned from you, clambering over the edge and back onto the fire escape, leaving you alone in the darkness. 

******                

After that night, you can’t slip him out of your mind. Even when you sleep, you can see those red eyes of his, gleaming and hungry. One evening, you’d even woken with your fingers firmly pressed to your throbbing clit, stumbling and gasping, shaking free of a dream of him. He’d felt so real, so in focus and you can’t catch your breath, fingers still rubbing a tight circle over your quivering bundle of nerves. You pant as you break yourself, sukling in the whites and reds that haze over your vision. Yeah, that crush of his definitely isn’t a one sided thing.

The next shift you work, he’s waiting for you, perched in his familiar seat, his shoulders curved and tight. You give him a glance, but he doesn’t meet your eyes. His hands are lowered, fiddling with something under the bartop. You begin to open your bar, trying to quiet your wandering thoughts, not wanting to perturb him again. You’re uncorking a red wine when he presses something across the mahogany wood of the bar, toward you.

It’s small, with dark colors and a tiny, familiar, upper half mask. You let the bottle of wine thud against the counter, abandoning the half opened bottle to move closer. It’s...it’s your-- No. It can’t be yours, but it is the same toy, the one you’d mentioned on the roof the other night. How did he?

You gulp and look up at him, your heart pulsing wildly against your ribs. For the first time, he looks away from you first, his white hair pillowing across his brow. His lips start to rise in an all too habitual scowl and his raspy voice lifts to your ears. “If you don’t want it,” he grouses, one hand pulling away from the offered toy, clearly flustered by your wondering gaze. Without thinking, you slip your fingertips over the top of his hand, prolonging the touch, sulking in the warmth of him. 

His fingers curl, some unconscious tremor racing along his digits. He almost yanks himself away, but then he stops, sighing as his eyes lift to yours. For a long moment, the two of you watch the other. You can hear his breathing speed up and you can almost smell the shift in the air. All it would take is one, tiny push to break that delicious tension. 

Tomura’s nostrils flare as you start to lean closer, your body curving toward his, fingers still pressing into his skin. Your tongue dips out, wetting your lower lip and pulling it into your mouth, sucking on the plush flesh. His eyelids have lowered and he’s mirroring your motions, his elbows assisting his lift, his face upturning, seeking, reaching.

With a bang, the front door is flung open and it breaks the spell that’s fallen over the two of you. Tomura leans away first, his eyes narrowed in agitation, sliding from your open face to the darkness of the entryway. You exhale a shaking breath and follow Tomura’s gaze. It’s that masked man, the one with the top hat and he’s already striding confidently forward, peppering Tomura with a series of questions. 

Snagging up his gift to you, you walk back to your bottle of wine. 

******    

You don’t have a chance to see Tomura again until he tells you, one evening, that the bar is going to be closed for the next few days. Then, over his shoulder, you spot the blonde boy, strapped and bound into a stiff chair and you blanch, stunned, too overwrought to give him more than a one word acknowledgement before stumbling back outside. In all of your talks, he’d never mentioned anything like this. That boy looked like a kid, barely past middle school, his eyes wild and defiant, but also so, so frightened. 

No, you think, pacing your apartment, it’s impossible to come to terms with this. You can’t stay there, can’t work there. It’s too dangerous, too close to a real criminal den for comfort. You have to look out for yourself, no matter your feelings for the man who’s wandering down some long, lost pathway, toward a future you can’t even comprehend, let alone see.

So, you hand in your written resignation. 

Kurogiri is behind the bar when you bring it in, and you’re hoping that the early morning conversation will spare you from having to see him. The wispy, purple hand of Kurogiri is just about to take your letter when Tomura barges down the hallway. His eyes immediately land on you and he steps forward, a dark look passing over his palled features. 

“Why?” he growls, fingers snatching the paper from Kurogiri and crumbling the parchment to bits, his quirk rendering your typed words to nothingness. 

“I don’t want to be a part of any kidnapping. It…” you pause, looking toward Kurogiri and, to your surprise, he nods to Tomura and moves away, leaving the two of you alone in the vacant bar. Tomura is still glaring at you, but he’s waiting for you to finish your thought, his jaw grinding quietly. 

“This doesn’t feel like you.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Tomura scoffs, his chin jutting at the assertion. 

“This doesn’t change society. This is just some petty attempt to get back at the UA staff. It’s like...It’s like you’re asking for trouble to seek you out. You’re smarter than this. Besides, what are you going to do with him?” you smart, crossing your arms and balling your fingers into your fists. 

“What do you know about anything? That kid’s been oppressed by hero society, literally muzzled and bound--”

“As if you’re doing any better! He’s still muzzled and bound, Tomura! He’s just in a different location. This is insanity. Who put you up to doing--”

“That doesn’t matter. This conversation has nothing to do with that. You can’t leave,” Tomura snaps, his head lowering, soft white hair falling over his face. “Give it a few more days.”

“What? I can’t stay if the bar is raided and it’s prolly gonna be if you keep that kid. Besides, that’s not--”

“Just...just give me a few more days. I don’t want to beg you, I shouldn’t fucking need to beg you. It’s not an impossible request (Y/N). Just--”

“Fine,” you sigh, uncrossing your arms and watching him. He looks on edge, haggard and angry. Those emotions aren’t projected at you, you know that. Nevertheless, it doesn’t lessen the danger he’s asking you to stand with him in. But, you can give him a few days and you tell him so, trying to ignore the pattering of your heart when he looks at you and smiles.

******

Then, Kamino happens. 

You weren’t there, thank God. But he was, and now, no matter what he’d asked of you, no matter what he’d hoped for, everything shifts apart. Days linger into weeks and you’re trying your best to reason that he’d made it out in one piece. Surely, you would have heard something. The capture of the leader of the League of Villains would have been a morsel that the media would have wanted to crow about, especially after the loss of All Might. 

Late one evening, your phone rings. 

It’s an unknown, blacked out number, but something tells you to answer, so you pick it up. You almost gasp when you hear that familiar rasp and you listen to what he tells you. You can’t get over how brittle and cracked his voice sounds but you write down the address he gives you. He cloaks his true motivations with a lie. Apparently, he has your last paycheck. Like that even matters to you. Honestly, you’re just glad he’s safe and whole. But, he’s gone to all this effort to build a bridge back to him, so of course you’re going to go.

You check and double check the directions, carefully maneuvering and weaving through bus stops and back streets. Somehow, you make it and find yourself pressing open a dilapidated door and stepping into a small room. Only darkness greets you, even though the bright midday sun is shining outside. The place he’s brought you to is on a dock, on the outskirts of town, close to the salty edge of a bay. You can hear the mournful cries of a seagull as you close the door behind you, sealing yourself inside and blinking into the gloom.

It takes you a minute to catch sight of him.

He’s lingering along the edges but you can make out the glow of his eyes, red and fierce. He looks different. It’s only been a few weeks, but it looks like the weight of years has crushed him under its unfeeling grind in that short amount of time. No, Kamino has changed him, rendering him unhinged and dangerous, drifting along the peripheral of your vision. Still, you haven’t come here to witness him falling to bits at your feet. No, you’d come here with another, darker motive. 

Now, to work.

“What happened?” you ask, keeping your back firmly against the door. Watching him move closer, those red shoes of his glinting over the dark wooden floors.

“Sensei is...gone,” he replies, his voice hollow and faint. He’s mentioned his Sensei before and you’d heard the man’s strange voice echoing from that back television, like some distant, terrifying specter. But, you knew he was important to Tomura, more like a father than a teacher. However, you’d seen the news. You knew he was beaten to a pulp and captured, locked away and out of Tomura’s reach. Now, he can’t ask his Sensei for advice or support, not anymore. Even knowing what little you’ve gleaned about the strange man, Tomura must be devastated by his loss.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, genuine in your sympathy.

Tomura nods and fishes for something in the pocket of his trench coat, lifting a thin slip of paper out and showing it to you. “Here,” he sighs, still not meeting your eyes directly. 

“Oh,” you say, moving away from the door and taking a few steps toward him. “You really did ask me here for the check, huh?”

“What else did you want?” he grumbles, his voice regaining a small slice of that familiar rasping. The question lingers and you feel your pulse speed up, your palms itching at your sides. “Or, did you want to scold me again?” Tomura continues disgruntled, and you can see a grimace pass over his face.

“You deserved it,” you confirm, taking another step, only wavering when you’re a few feet from him. “You wouldn’t be in this mess if you hadn't kidnapped that UA student. Now, the kid, and your Sensei are gone and you’re stuck here. Wherever here is”

“Look at you, quite the oracle aren’t you? So, you did come here to berate me.” Tomura snaps, dropping your pay stub to the dusty floor. 

“No,” you shake your head, not wanting this to spiral out of your control, not wanting him to simply shut you out, alone on that pier, left with all of your what ifs. “No, I didn’t come here to do that. I-I...it’s just that...well...that wasn’t you. That whole plan...it still doesn’t make sense”

“How the fuck would you know what is, or isn’t, me? You said that that morning, too. I didn’t like it then and I don’t like it now,” Tomura bristles, closing the distance and bowing up to you. You can feel the sheer heat of him radiating against your shirt and you shiver at the sensation. If you lift your hand you could touch him, you think distantly. He’s so close...He’s so... 

You gulp, trying to quell your rising emotions. “I guess, I don’t know then.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Fine,” you say, biting your lip.

“Fine,” he repeats, no doubt thinking that will be the end of it, but you’re not finished.

“You’re better than this you know,” you tell him, eyes searching for his, not relenting your glare until he finally meets you halfway, his red eyes flashing.

“Better than what? Better than you? A half baked woman, slumming her way from mid range bar, to mid range bar. Hoping you’ll catch the eye of the right person, someone who can pluck you from all the muck and grime that you lift that pretty little nose of yours at.”

“What?” you breathe, a snarl of your own etching across your face.

“Don’t act like you didn’t know what you were doing. Fucking leading me on like that--”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You thought I’d be your ticket out, or you could wager me later for a better piece, something stronger, someone that could do something for you.” Tomura is seething, his chest bumping against yours, the red of his eyes burning as he glowers at you. 

“Tomura- I don’t know what you’re talk--”

“Stop saying that. You stupid, or something? And stop saying my name like that. Like it fucking matters. You could have had anything, you know? But...but you took it all for granted. You had the world...and then it...it’s...it’s just gone.”

He’s not talking about you anymore. Even though he’s growling and spitting rage at you, he’s not talking about you. “Shigaraki,” you begin, trying to see some way to reason with him. To bring him back to you. 

“Don’t call me that,” he groans, his head dipping, almost resting against your shoulder. “I haven’t earned...that’s not me.” 

“Alright. What am I supposed to call you?” you whisper, overwhelmed and trying to resist that urge to pull him into your arms. You’ve never seen him like this, and you don’t know, you don’t…

“There you go again, acting like you care.” Tomura scoffs, rolling his eyes. 

“I do care, you ass,” you bite, turning your head toward him and letting your voice fall beside his ear. He snarls at the assertion and presses impossibly closer, trying his best to put on a show of wavering strength, knowing you might still be bullied into backing down, into denying him. But it’s not working, no you’ve come this far and you don’t want to leave him, not like this. 

“I care,” you repeat, still murmuring next to his cheek, so near you can hear, and feel, his ragged breaths, hot against your skin.

“About what?” he grunts, moving his head from you, determined to not let you win.

“About, well, you.”

“Liar,” he spits, but his voice wavers, showing you a tiny, tiny sliver of hope.

“Am not,” you counter and watch as he leans back, those vermillion eyes searching for yours. One of his hands lifts and he ghosts the digits over the top of your shoulder, watching as you shift toward the distant touch, pulled to him, like a magnet.

“Such a liar,” he posits, fingers hovering beside your neck, twitching with want. 

“No, I’m not,” you gasp, your voice so faint, you’re worried he might not hear it. But he does and he dips his head toward you, inches from your face, lips already parted and waiting. 

“Prove it,” he challenges, his voice deepening, losing that sharpened edge at long last.

So, you shove him. 

You’re not sure why that’s your first, instinctive reaction, but it’s too late to question your motives and it sparks a crazed response from the man in front of you, snapping him out of his head and refocusing him. 

He fumbles backwards, caught off guard, his red shoes catching as he lumbers, trying to not fall. His eyes flash at you and he instantly rights himself, moving back to you. Through it all, you can hear yourself saying something. It sounds like it might have been another taunt, but you can’t focus, not when he’s pressing himself against you, his fingers finally, finally touching you. 

Tomura can’t seem to settle now that he’s gotten ahold of you, his fingers tracing over your neck, your shoulders, your face, your sides. He’s panting and gasping, his fevered exhales fanning over your prickling skin.

“Get off me,” you moan, batting at his wandering hands.

“No,” he sighs, cupping your jaw and dragging you to his shaking lips. His kiss is clumsy, almost childlike. He lifts and leans, pressing halting smacks against you, grunting when you twist from him, fighting his hold.

“You don’t deserve it,” you tell him, wanting to lance that boil that’s festering in his mind, knowing he needs the pain before he can handle the sweetness of the pleasure. The last thing he needs is love. No, not right now. Hopefully, there will be time for that later. But for now, he needs something raw and shattered, something that will let him see that it’s not impossible to pick up the pieces, that he can be whole again, he just needs to try.

He drags his rough lips over yours and you lower your fingers into his snowy hair, pulling him closer, demanding that he give you more. He gasps at the sudden shift and you slip your tongue into his mouth, tangling it with his and yanking stammering moans from him. Your lips are slick now and you use the extra lubrication to slip down his neck, leaving him trembling above you. 

You dip into each and every scar, laving over all those old hurts until he’s snarling. You leave a bruising bite against his pulse and he snatches your face between his palms, dragging you back to his lips. 

“Stop squirming,” he complains, his forehead bumping against yours, trying to keep up with your rapid fire laps and sucks. 

“No,” you laugh, fingers lacing into the lapels of his trench coat and using the leverage to drag your breasts over his hardened pectorals. He grunts at the sensation, one arm wrapping around your lower back, pinning you to him. When he finally manages to work his way free of your frantic presses, he lowers his lips to your neck, mimicking the same path you’d taken with him, his teeth nipping and pulling until your humming, giving him a thin cry of encouragement that spurs him on. 

Tomura drags a canine over your pulse and you shiver, folding into his crumpled embrace. He’s almost having to hold you upright and he growls when you slip from his arms, annoyed you’re making this so fucking difficult. 

“I said, keep still,” he reminds you, heaving you back up, lean forearms bracing you to him. You smile and lace your arms around his neck, wanting his lips again. He allows the pull, loving the contrast of your plush skin against his. He’s a fast learner and this time, it’s his tongue taps and maneuvers for entrance, swallowing down your needy pants. His nose presses into your cheek and you cup at his jaw, stroking the warm skin until he slows his frantic pace, meeting you halfway, and lingering in your wet softness.

Then, just as he’s getting comfortable, you dig your teeth into his lower lip, pulling until you bleed out a little taste of copper. He snarls and shoves you away, lifting the side of his hand to his injured mouth. 

“What was that for?” He snaps, tapping his fingers against the wound, watching as they come back red. “The fuck is wrong with…” His ire stutters to a halt when he catches sight of you. 

You’ve already slipped your shirt over your head and now your fingers are twisting until you unclasp your bra, sliding the lace down your arms. The cool air makes your nipples tighten but you don’t attempt to cover yourself from him. Instead, you arch an eyebrow at his abashed expression and begin to unbutton your pants, your fingers teasingly lingering over the button and zipper, before lowering the denim down the curve of your hips. 

You don’t even hear him approach. No, you’re too distracted by your little show to notice him until you feel those warm fingers tracing over the newly bared swells of your skin. You lift your head and your eyes catch his, smiling at the hazy hunger that’s blazing out at you. His touch is tentative and you roll your eyes openly at him, lifting your own hands over his, pressing him until he’s digging those four digits into your sumptuous flesh. 

His thumb rubs over your pebbled nipple and you reward him with a low moan, your eyes slipping behind your heavy eyelids. He cups at your other breast and lifts the weight of you into his palm, openly marveling at the feel of you. Still, it’s not enough and if you’re going to get your point across, you need him to give you more than these lazy strokes. 

“Take off your jacket,” you tell him, stepping away from him, quaking minutely in the loss of his warmth. 

“What?” he asks, clearly too overwrought to hear you. So, you help him along. Your fingers snatch the shoulders of his trench and you yank it off him, tossing the fabric down to the gritty floors. Then, you shove at him again. He isn’t as taken aback this time and he rallies immediately, snatching at you and dragging you against him, making you gasp at the harsh sensation of his dark clothes against your bare front. 

“What do you want?” you ask him, licking your tongue along the underside of his jaw, listening to his shuddering breaths. “What do you want to do to me, Tomura? Come on, I know you’ve got some idea. Fucking show me. Don’t let me boss you around, unless that’s what you’re wanting today to be about. I can take those reigns from you. I’m better at this after all. Less...flustered,” you pause, sucking and nipping at his neck, enjoying the indecisive flex of his fingers on your upper arms.

He allows you one more bite and then he’s tossing you down, not caring where you land. Thankfully, you sprawl over his discarded jacket, the fabric sparing you from the neglected wooden floor. You’re trying to regain your bearings when you hear his belt clatter to the floor. You look up at him, watching as he flings that dark shirt away, showing you the lean muscles that you’ve wondered about for so long. God, for someone so lanky, he looks fucking good. 

Tomura smirks at your expression and swiftly yanks his pants and boxers away too, revealing something even more mouthwatering. Fuck, fuck, you think, an involuntary gasp leaving your lips. His cock is thick, pulsing and absolutely dripping with his precum. The tip is a lovely pink, curving toward that chiseled stomach of his and damn, you want to suck on it until he’s putty in your hands. 

As if he can read your mind, Tomura steps closer, giving himself a few tugs as he peers down on you, imperious and almost perfectly in control. “You want it?” He asks, trying to hide that sudden shift in his voice, wanting to show you that he understands what you’re expecting from him. You nod and bite your lip, looking up at him from feathery eyelashes. 

“Come here,” he requests, slowing those pulls and letting his precum slip from his fist to the floor, tempting you with those tiny droplets of arousal. Obediently, you rise to your knees, fingers tracing up his thighs, smiling at the light buckling he gives you, his calves twitching and shaking. 

You tease your way to the apex of his hips and pause, lingering along that dip of his stomach. “Can I taste you?” you question coquettishly and you adore the moan that falls from his lips. 

Taking that as a yes, you slowly lower your mouth to him, ghosting the tip of him over you. Rubbing him back and forth, painting that thick precum over your lips until they’re glistening. Tiring of this little game, his fingers dip into your hair and he grips you, hard. With one pull, he’s burying that velvet heat of his length past the ring of your lips and into the sweet cavern of your mouth. His cock swells and throbs as you lap ravenous at the hefty weight of him.

He’s salty and earthy and you let your tongue swirl over his slit, lapping into that leaking gap until he’s murmuring nonsense over you. He’s almost too big for you to take, so one of your hands lifts and wraps around his base, easing your sucks and ensuring that none of him is left out of this gift of mind numbing ecstasy you’re bestowing upon him. 

There are several veins, racing along the side of his cock and you tickle along each of them, pressing until you can feel the beat of his heart, frantic and fluttering. Soon, he begins to silently ask you for more, rutting his hips against your face, scraping himself along the back of your throat. When you heave around him he lets out a loud, elongated moan and digs in again, lingering until you’re nearly choking. 

You chance a peek up at him and are surprised to see him gazing right back, those red eyes of his clouded and muddled. His hand keeps an insistent pressure against the back of your head, demanding that you keep going. So, you pick up the pace, lapping and sucking, hollowing your cheeks until a thin line of your drool begins to trickle along your chin, dripping onto your knees.

“Can...can I…” he begins, fingers starting to tremble, his knees buckling. No, that’s not what you want from him. You shake free of his hand, letting him slip from your mouth, and he stammers and sputters at the loss, his eyes narrowed and dark, glaring at you with a raw frustration. 

“No,” you tell him, keeping one hand on him, stroking him, maintaining that steady pressure until he’s grunting, his hips instinctively canting into the tantalizing motion. “No, you don’t ask me for anything. Yeah, I can finish you off, if you need me to take control, but it’s not going to be on your terms. If you’re wanting something Tomura, you better fucking take it. Stop asking me for permission. I’m not-- mmph--”

He rips your hand off of his dick and his fingers curl beside your ears, forcing your mouth back, and impaling you on his length, immediately gagging you on his heady thrusts. You inhale sharply, your breath catching, failing as he keeps railing into you. More saliva slides out of your lips and you falter, a weak whimper echoing around him. 

“Mmm,” he growls, holding your face as he presses against the back of your throat loving the clenching and mewls you give him. “That feels fucking good, (Y/N). Taking all of my cock, ah- fucking choking on it. You’re so fucking greedy. Don’t worry, I’ll give you more. Let’s see, what would make this even better, oh, I know. Saw it in a porn once. Put your hands behind your back and don’t move them unless I tell you to.”

Immediately, you clasp your fingers together, letting them rest against your lower back. The suspension knocks you off kilter, but Tomura braces your head with his other hand, pinning you between his palms. His dick is still lancing in and out of your mouth, scraping against your tonsils, making you swallow and open, trying to push yourself past that oppressive gagging sensation.

“Ahhh, such a good girl, now spread your legs and lift up, just a little bit, yes- right there. Better keep those hands still,” he taunts, pulling his cock out until it hangs against your lower lip, glimmering with the sheen of your ministrations. Then, he dives back in, thrusting and grinding until his balls are papping against your soaking chin. Your legs tremble as you hold yourself up and you can feel your own arousal, slipping down your inner thighs, splattering onto that dark trench coat of his. 

You’re heaving under him, grunting and slobbering trying to not fucking choke on the girth that’s being pistoned into you. He’s gasping praise at you, his white head thrown back, and his lower abdomen is rippling, letting you know he’s so, so close to spilling down your abused throat. He bows over you as he cums, spewing thick ropes of his release into you. You gulp at him, determined to let every last drop slither down your waiting throat, longing to savor everything that he’s giving you. 

True to your promise, you keep your hands clasped and you nearly topple over when he tugs free of your lips. Tomura takes pity on your wilted form and lowers himself to his knees, wrapping one hand around you and tapping twice on your shaking digits, letting you know you can relax your grip. You fall forward, and he waits above you, watching you with a mounting fascination. Once you catch your breath, you look up at him, not caring that you’re still covered in a mix of tears, spit and his cum. He smirks at your dishevelment, pleased by your open display of your wanton lust for him. 

“See? It’s not hard to take what you want, to do what you want,” you pant, still trying to gulp down a few more rough intakes of air.

Tomura sucks his teeth at your bravado, but you notice he’s having a little bit of trouble steading his own breathing and his hands are twitching as they reach for you. You hum when he cups at your dips and curves, lingering over spots that make you moan for him. As he plucks at one of your puckered nipples his eyes lift to yours and he leans close, pressing a wet line of kisses against your collarbone.

“Lay back,” he rumbles, still sucking at the hollow of your throat. You do as he says, propping yourself on your elbows, curious and waiting. He’s slowed down now that he’s slaked that first brush of pent up aggression, but he’s still got a little more to burn. You can see it, lingering behind his vermillion eyes, gleaming under the carnal intrigue. 

His fingers, so dangerous and deadly, race down your sides, falling to the juncture of your legs and dipping into the slick that he finds. He parts your folds, bracing himself over you, his lips sucking bruises into your skin. The gossamer threads of your leaking cunt run down his fingers and onto his open palm and he groans into your neck, nuzzling his nose to your skin and inhaling, deeply. 

“Does that feel good?” He asks, his voice scraping, like sandpaper, hoarse and undone along your heated cheek. Ok, you think, arching as he dips one digit into you, you can let him have that one question, especially when your mind is fogging over like this, unable to think of anything but that ache that’s pounding through your core. You roll your hips again, urging that finger to slip further and he hisses as you pull him in, your walls trembling at the intrusion. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, lifting himself to look down at you, his eyes wide with an awed marvel. “You’re so…”

“Mmm, so what?” you ask, wanting him to keep talking to you, loving rasp of his tone as it tells you such sinful things.

“So soft and warm and...God...so wet,” he replies, adding another finger, watching as you whine for him, your lower lips parting and welcoming him. He pumps the digits, in and out, at a steady rate, waiting for each quiver and ripple, trying to feel his way along, wanting to please you. 

“Can--” he stops himself, flushing as your eyes open and snap to his, a rough displeasure written over your face. He tears his gaze from yours and scowls, letting his fingers press a rougher rhythm into you, sucking his teeth at his unspoken inexperience. 

“This feels good,” you reassure him, not wanting to completely leave him adrift, knowing that he does need a little piece of guidance, for this part, at least. “Why don’t you get a closer look?” 

Tomura looks back to you and nods before sliding down your body, lowering himself until he’s face to face with his prize. His mouth drops and he licks at his chapped lips, painting a few, warm, exhales against your sensitive folds. You squirm at the sensation and he grins, leaning closer, his free hand spreading you for his inspection. 

“Is this…” his voice trails off and you can feel him wandering his way to just the right spot. When he lifts the fleshy hood of your clit and thumbs the distended pearl you gasp and shiver, your head falling back against his jacket, thumping against the floor. 

He laughs and you can feel him getting ready to swipe at you again, his thumb already slippery and near, the heat of it radiating against that sensitive bundle. “You like that,” he crows, repeating the motion until you’re writhing. “But—” he ponders, moving so his lips are pressed against you, resting on those sopping folds, waiting for you to look up at him. Once your head lifts and your eyes meet his, he lowers his mouth, sliding his tongue over you. 

“Oh,” you whisper, your hands automatically lifting and curling into his hair, threading the white tendrils along your palms. His tongue is rough and bumpy as it glides along, pausing to lap at some of your arousal. He smacks his lips at the taste, savoring the flavor before voraciously pressing back into you for more. When he pauses his explorations to give your clit a soft suck, you can’t help but flail, your back bowing and thighs tightening around his head. 

Tomura grunts at the rough treatment, prying your legs apart but not letting up on that suction, pleased he’s found something that makes you tremble to pieces in his hands. He’s always liked working you up, so it makes sense that, in this instance, he’s no different. 

His long digits are scraping into you, dragging along your quivering walls and spreading your cunt apart, leaking your arousal all over his jacket and onto his chin. He’s not satisfied yet, you’re not satisfied yet, so he keeps going, listening and watching, catching on to what makes you cry out his name, learning and adapting at an alarming speed. 

“T-Tomura,” you keen, your hips lifting, grinding yourself against his face, begging him to not stop. You feel a smirk lift his lips and his tongue begins to circle and lick over your clit, maintaining a steady pressure. Meanwhile, his fingers have latched onto something delicate and spongy within your pussy, repeating an arched gesture, curling and uncurling as they stroke your budding flames higher. 

“So good…” you murmur, hardly able to form the words as you feel that all encompassing tingle race along your bloodstream. “You’re doing so f-fucking good.” 

In response, he begins to suckle on your clit, lightly tracing a canine over the pulsing bundle and that’s all that it takes. Your head dips back, pressing into the floor so hard that your neck arches with your back and your legs wrap around him, holding him to you as you quiver and shake under him. You can feel your heartbeat as you return to yourself, thumping a rapid beat over your breastbone and radiating out to your fingers and toes. 

Tomura, for his part, hadn’t stopped lapping at you, his tongue replacing his fingers as he pushes the wet appendage into you, soaking up each wave of your release. Even when you’d dropped your death grip, your legs and arms flopping away from him, boneless and shaking, he’d kept on. After a few minutes of this, his lips suddenly feel a little too ragged, the chapped skin scratching against your sensitive, overstimulated, flushed lower lips. You do your best to wriggle away, but he stills your movements, not quite finished. 

“Ah- that...it’s starting to hurt,” you grouse, pushing a hand against his bowed head. That declaration seems to get through and, finally placated, he gives you one last lick and lifts his head, his eyes glinting down on you, dark and mischievous. 

“I want to fuck you,” he tells you, wiping a hand across his mouth, dragging the last of your essence away. You tilt your head and grin up at him. “So fuck me,” you reply, spreading your legs again, making room for his trim hips.

“Not like this,” he qualifies, his eyes hooded as he runs a hand along your leg, enjoying your skin, warm and pliant under his palm.

“Then how?” you ask, a little bewildered by this shift in attitude. Tomura leans up, resting on his haunches, leering at your nakedness, another smirk lifting his lips, arching that scar.

“Stand up,” he instructs. 

You pull your legs away and slowly rise to your feet, waiting for him to do the same. Once the two of you are eye level again, he tugs you to him, his lips pulling and nipping at yours. You can’t help but melt into his persistent touch and when he feels you slacken against him, he starts to push you backwards. He walks you slowly, carefully, but once your back touches the cold wall, his caresses become rougher, more insistent. 

He’s lifting your chin and his teeth are doing more biting than nipping, pulling at your lips until you’re gasping and swollen. He begins to lift away and you protest the movement, but his hand presses into your chest, shoving you back to the wall. You freeze at the forceful treatment, your eyes opening and fastening onto his. Waiting for his next move.

Tomura’s regained that wild look, his eyes hardening, sharpening like ruby slips of flint as they linger over you. “Turn around and brace your hands against the wall,” he commands and, for an instant, you debate pushing back, challenging his order, but that’s not what you’re here for. No, you’d come here with one thought in mind. 

To see if you could show him what choices, what strong inner drive, wholly independent of his Sensei, he did have. 

You’d watched that kidnapping debacle and all you could think about was how much better, how much stronger he’d be if he could just get out from under the thumb of that man, that voice on the tv. Even with this informal exercise of your own, Tomura had taken to your carnal lessons like a fish to water. He had always been a natural born leader, someone who cultivated and demanded change, he just needs a chance to try. A chance to prove that he didn’t need to ask permission, to ask questions. No, he only needed to act and he could make his aspirations a reality. 

So, you turn, splaying your fingers against the wall and waiting for his next move, tilting your head, wanting to see him. He runs a calloused hand over the plush swell of your ass, kneading the skin and stepping closer. Once his hips are flush with your posterior, he ruts his newly re-hardened cock against you, his ever copious precum aiding his motion, letting him glide between your cheeks, easing into that cleft. You groan and press back, wordlessly asking for him to keep going. 

Suddenly, his palm smacks against your ass, stinging the flesh and sending a sharp crack around the barren room. “I said, push out more. How am I supposed to fuck you when you’re plastered to the wall like that?” Tomura questions, his voice deep and guttural. You brace your hands against the peeling wallpaper and jut your ass out, presenting yourself to him, quietly hoping he’ll reward you with another spank. Pleased, Tomura does just that, his other hand lifting and smarting against your other, neglected cheek, imprinting his mark on you, even if it’s only for a brief moment, and his fingers linger on the warmth he’s raised from your skin. 

“Good girl,” he groans, taking his cock in his hand and searching for that weeping entrance to your waiting pussy. You aid him as best as you can, arching your hips until he finally, finally slips into you. Tomura lets out a deep sigh as your cunt devours his cock, slicking him into the heat of your rippling channel. “Oh, fuck,” he moans, pressing until his hips are flush with your ass, grinding his bony hipbone into your supple softness.

He gives you a brief second to adjust before he bows his head over your shoulder, panting and grunting. “Hold on,” he gasps, slowly pulling his hips back and then ramming his straining cock back into you. You mewl at the sudden ferocity of his thrusts, your head dipping against the steady weight of the wall. 

He offers you no reprieve as he pounds into you, his teeth latching onto your skin, sucking and drooling, losing himself in you. His balls tap against your swelled ass and you moan when he traces one hand around you, his fingers seeking your clit and pinching at the nub. 

Your teeth begin to chatter, but he doesn’t let up, maintaining that mind numbing pace, pressing and grinding until you can’t fucking think straight. He’s completely untethered and he slakes out all of those pent up questions, feelings, hurts and wants against you. After a time, he begins to murmur things to you, finally sucking up his loose tongue and resting his chin on the mess he’s left on your skin.

He’s worried he can’t do it. 

He’s never been alone, not like this. 

Sure, he has the others, he has Kurogiri, but it’s not the fucking same. 

He needs to see this through. 

He wants to, he has to.

Where do you go, when there’s no one else to turn to?

It’s like a confessional, this rutting he’s doing and it’s bleeding all of those thoughts away, letting them pool against the front of his mind and then, pop, they shift away. 

Oh this helps, he thinks, loving how you’re fucking taking him, how much you fucking need him. He can’t let you go. He can’t, he won’t. You’re all he has left. After all this, he can’t lose anything else. No, you were right, he’s gotta start taking things, snatching up pieces until he becomes this unstoppable force, greater than his Sensei, greater than All Might, greater than all of them. Yes, yes, yes, when he has you like this, everything else feels so fucking simple. 

He’s slowing, his hips beginning to stutter and press erratically against you. There’s no need to worry about you cumming for him, not when you’ve already broken around him so many times in the last few minutes. No, the second he started panting all of those thoughts against you, you were lost, your cunt gripping him so tightly you were worried it might never let go. 

Finally, with one last thrust, Tomura grinds his hips against you, his cock swelling and pulsing as he spills himself into you. The sensation of his cum splashing against your walls hurtles you over that edge one last time and you almost collapse, your legs shaking so badly you can't support your own weight. The only thing that prevents you from falling is Tomura. His arms snake around your waist and he holds you to him, his forehead resting heavily against your shoulder, sticking to your skin. 

After a long beat, Tomura pulls himself out of you, grunting at the loss of your warmth and sinks to the floor, dragging you with him. Naked and gasping, the two of you cling to the other, waiting for the world to stop spinning as you come back to yourselves. Tomura recovers first, tugging you to his chest and wrapping himself around you, his chin perched on the familiar slope of your shoulder.

“You didn’t...you didn’t need to do this, but...” Tomura halts, his voice soft as his lips press rough kisses to your skin, silently saying what he really means, what you mean to him.

“That’s not true,” you counter, turning your head toward him. “You deserve to make a choice for yourself. You’re your own boss now. Now all you have to do is act like it. Don’t make those mistakes again. You call the shots, not your Sensei, not anyone else in the League, just you. You’ll have other choices soon, so don’t doubt yourself, it’s not like you.”

He huffs out a laugh and buries his nose in your neck, inhaling your scent as he licks at a rising bruise. “I don’t think you’ll like my next choice,” he rumbles, one hand drifting over your side and cupping the soft mound of your breast.

“That depends on what it is,” you smile, your eyes closing at the tempting touch.

“Mmm, do me a favor,” he begins, nipping at your earlobe. “Get on your knees and open your mouth. You looked so fucking pretty when you were sucking on my cock, I wanna see it, one more time.”

“What?” you question, absolutely incredulous, “again?”

“Do as I say (Y/N),” he replies, rubbing his rising length along your ass.

“God,” you gasp, bucking at the sensation, “what have I done? At this rate, I won’t be able to walk for a week.”

“You’ll like it,” Tomura promises, his voice dark, “I’ll make sure that you do.”

Notes: never have i ever liked that kidnapping bullshit. i guess it lets AFO face off with All Might, but for Tomura’s development? it makes no sense and he’s never done anything like that again, in canon. so, uh, yeah. booo kidnapping scheme. 

Tags: @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx, @yixxes, @ghstmthr, @rekoii, @diaouranask, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love

[papakhan]

I can honestly see why Jessie would want the NCR to wipe the fiends out, because when you get right down to it, there’s a pretty huge difference between the Khans and the Fiends: the Khans are traditional in the way that they’ve kept up what made them The Great Khans (I.e their toughness, their raiding parties, Papa, etc.) while the fiends are just monsters.

Like, the one Khan who did the most fucked up thing was Oscar and honestly you can see things from his perspective of being riddled with PTSD and anger and not being able to let go having been separated from the tribe for so long, and you can even talk him down from it and convince him that it’s time to head home.

The fiends have Cook-Cook. I rest my case.

I'm assuming this is about this post? Which yeah, I get that, I didn't mean that it was a negative part of Jessup's character or like a "plot hole" or anything that he wants the Fiends gone, I just thought it was an interesting look into his own opinions conflicting with the Khan's alliances and yknow everything that's happened to them. I also love to see Jessup being called Jessie :')

Personally I'd give the Khans a lot more credit then that. They've got traditions, crafts, education, families, as well as their reputation for being tough and mean but completely reasonable. And Oscar harkening back to the New Khan days as almost like a trauma response is interesting on it's own.

But yeah Jessup hating the Fiends because they're so distruptive and violent and he's so family oritentated is pretty interesting. He's got a little spice it's fun! Even Diane puts aside how she feels about the Fiends because "Papa likes them attacking the NCR" but not Jessup! I can imagine a lot of Khans thinking that the way the Fiends act is dishonourable and stuff anyway since Jessup and McMurphy don't even rob the courier of their caps or weapons. It makes me think that Khans don't approve of rifling through a dead person's pockets--which the Fiends and courier do

That being said I do think the Fiends could have More to them. I'm really not a fan of the way drug addicts are handled in new vegas in general and the Fiends being a mob of ~violent drug addicts~ to shoot at isn't great either. I prefer the interpretation of them being "disinfrancised people reacting poorly to the situtation they've been put in" though I'm not sure who came up with that.

I have a few mods installed and yesterday two of them came together quite nicely where I watched a group of Fiends and a group of Khans patrolling the same route together, and then rushing a group of Vipers together. I couldn't get too close because the Fiends were still hostile to me but it was kinda nice to see and I think the Khan/Fiends relations could really be worked on.

Like. idk Fiends who realise "ah shit these are real bad people I need to get the fuck out of here" but not being able to get close to Westside because of their clothes being able to slip out into the safety of the Khans.

But yeah Cook-Cook is not allowed within 100 metres of Red Rock Canyon or he will be taken out by a Khan sniper like guarenteeted.

tldr: i think theres a scale of Fiends from like the Just Kinda Rowdy And Using Violence To Cope to the Actually Vile People Up Top. I don't think Papa respects the Fiends "leaders" enough to even accept visits to his home from them and most Khans interact with either Motor-Runner or one offs on the outskirts like Razz

[jaeyunzie]

your first -- jay

pairing: park jongseong x reader

word count: 987 words

genre: angst!

there will be a pt 2!!

----

jay was beautiful. you were never the type to be interested in love, rather, the concept confused you. coming from a household where love wasn’t prominent clouded your perception of love; until you met him. you didn’t know what made you felt that way, was it his looks? the way he was always ambitious? the fact that he never gave up? you still don’t know what it was but you knew that you fell in love with the park jongseong. 

in jay’s eyes, you were unique; in a good way. you didn’t treat him like a bank like most people he had met, you never doubted him everytime he would make the wrong step and you were always there for him. he liked this. he liked you being there for him and believing in him. so naturally, he fell in love with you too.

it was a surprise to your friends that you ended up with him. how could you? the person who was never keen on love, the person who never payed attention to any conversation about love; ended up falling inlove? they felt transported into another universe. but you couldn’t disagree. being with jay made you feel like you were in another universe. everything felt just right.

today was your 6 month anniversary and you wanted to surprise him. his parents had approved of you, they loved you probably just as much as he did. so it was to no surprise that his mother welcomed you into his house with open arms. “y/n ! what a surprise. jay isn’t home so what’s the occasion?” she welcomed you as she cups your cheeks and slightly pinching them. “hey mrs park, it’s our 6 month anniversary so i wanted to ask if you could maybe help me make some food? i’d love for us to celebrate it with you guys.” you smile at her, pulling up the bag of groceries you’d just bought. “of course! well I have to leave in a few hours to meet some friends so I don’t think I could celebrate but I’d love to help cook.” she replied, taking the groceries from your hand and putting them on the kitchen table.

besides the groceries, you already had a store decorated cake, a gift and some flowers prepared. taking off your shoes, you enter their house. you’ve been here so many times yet you can’t get used how big and how beautiful the interior design was. you wanted to put the gift in his room, as it was special and you wanted him to see it in his private time. “mrs park, is it okay if i put these in jay’s room?” you asked, and the moment she nodded; you head upstairs to where his room is located. you twist the door knob and it was unlocked, as usual. jay had a habit of always leaving his door unlocked no matter what. when you entered, the lights were off and as your eyes scanned the room, it landed on something peculiar. it was a diary. jay has a diary? was your first thought. he had a hard time expressing his feelings and sometimes you would have to beg for him to spill it out, so it was surprising to see but also made sense maybe this was how he relieves his stress you thought. 

for some reason, albeit you knowing it was wrong, you wanted to read it. setting aside the gift, you sat down on his chair and opened what was inside. as his girlfriend, you expected to see your name pop up once or twice. but as you examine the pages even more, another name popped up constantly. you recognised this name, it was his ex, the person he loved before you. this diary is probably old, it’s only been 15 pages was the thought that lingered in your head. you were jealous and there was no denying it, he wrote about her as if them as if they were his whole world. 

10th February

i can’t live without them, i don’t wanna let them go but they wont even look at me. 

you decided that looking through old pages wasn’t gonna help your jealousy problem, so you find a page that had a date in which you knew was significant to your relationship. march 28th, the date you got together. you sighed out of happiness when you saw that your name was the first thing on the page, but that smile on your face did not last long when you read the page even further.

28th March

y/n , they’re beautiful. reminds me too much of them though. i can’t get them out of my head and it has been 2 months since we broke up. i see them in y/n and it hurts when i have to pretend y/n is someone else.

as you flipped the pages even more, his writings were just full of regret and sorrow. Regretful that he was not honest to you, regretful of letting his ex go, regret and regret. the book fell out of your hand and laid on the table, you closed it making it seem as if it were never touched. tears didn’t come out. you don’t know why. it hurt too much to cry. it hurt so much you couldn’t feel anything and you wished you never picked that stupid diary up. you wish you never knew.

as you stood up, you looked down on your gift. your head was filled with voices, should you take it back or act like everything is okay. how could you leave; his mother was downstairs waiting for you. but what do you mean by how could you? the real question was how could jay? how could jay pretend this whole time. he told you that you were unique, he told you that he loved you just as you loved him. how could he?

to be continued

--------

author’s note HAI THIS IS MY FIRST EVER UM work?? idk what to call it lmao im so sorry its crap i havent written anything since my 2018 middle school fanfic phase n now im HORRIBLE at writing anyways yes stay tuned for pt 2!! ill edit this later cuz i wrote this on a whim n theres probably plot holes and mistakes here n there

[luvargas]

     i think i just saw LUCILA “ LU ” VARGAS ride by on a golf cart . at least i think it was her . after all , CREDIT IN THE STRAIGHT WORLD BY HOLE was blasting on the transistor radio . maybe she was on her way to work , i hear she’s a PERSONAL TRAINER . but she totally could have been on her way to SNEAK IN A SMOKE AT THE GARDEN . guess we’ll never know . you’ll definitely know its her when you see LOOSE AND TANGLED HAND WRAPS , BUTTON BADGES ON VEGAN LEATHER ,  AND HEAR THE SHRILL SOUND OF BICKERING around the country club . let’s just hope she stays off the green after hours or else the sprinklers will get her !

( new muse, messy thoughts, u get the gist. pls know the views of this chara do not reflect my own. the name’s katya, 21, she/her pronouns & im ready 2 party. feel free to hmu wnvr or drop a like to plot n ill com 2 u ! x — oh n pls be a pal n read this quick disclaimer. tysm ! )

BASICS

24 years old

15 april 1997

5′1″ or 1.55m tall

bisexual cis woman, she/her

aries sun, aqua moon, and aqua rising

love languages : quality time & acts of service

BIO POINTS

kid o’ divorce, lived w her ma in chicago til she was 6 then w her dad in highlands til 14 then back to her ma ! 

def a daddys gorl. so used to her white pop’s leniency that livin w her strict latina ma durin her teen yrs was So Not Her Vibe ergo * cue her rebel grrrl phase *

did not finish hs ! left senior yr 2 to go w her “ radically progressive ” college bf to [ insert dev country. ] they broke up after a few mos but she kept at that life for a couple more yrs

seen some places. lived in new countries. done some shit. some good, some sus, but all generally well-intentioned. tis a whole thing but u get the gist, nywy !

lu’s back in da usa by 21. rel w the ma is strained but the pa is chill w stuff, they kept in touch. he said shell get her college fund if she gets her ged so she does !

her dad is v active n stuff so shes just always been v sporty w him. lu turnin 23 w zilch plans worried him so he implored her to get certified as a personal trainer ! n when she did, he called in a few favors w a pal he knows et voilà ! ur hired.

LU AT WORK

shes been workin at the country club fr a little over a yr now. most her clients are influencer-type gals n they luv her bc shes can take rlly cute pics n stuff for content. lu sorta likes some of em n she fakes the rest for the bread. u can bet she clowns all em richies behind their back   

unless she got clients, catch her runnin’ about the club n minglin’ w the other workers. does it annoy mngmt ? yes. n she luvs that. but bc her soon-2-b-karen clients luv her n wont stand for her bein booted, she can milk that impunity

actually knows her shit n lowkey rlly enjoys the work. she picked back up the boxing n tae kwon do she did when she was younger plus she was always in the track team at school. v healthy lifestyle save for her smokin vice n the party moments

PERSONALITY 

passionate ! has lotsa opinions. helluva a drama queen, bit of a loud mouth, argumentative n stubborn but her heart’s in the right place, albeit a lil misguided. comes w the whole activist bit, bitin her tongue just aint it. highkey makes everythin political n smtms gotta realize .,.,. it just aint that deep chief. some say shes needlessly defiant, but maybe thats a in the beholder typa thing ? fingers crossed 4 lu’s sake

fun, fun, fun ! can be real naggy but shes no buzzkill. wannabe anarchist-slash-mutineer who wants 2 stick it 2 the man ! get rowdy go crazy

fight, fight, fight ! goin back to the first bit, she talks big. esp w like ,, men n the whites lol. she can actually walk her threats tho she isnt actually violent. w arguments, she likes to start em but finishin is ... ruff.  also any dare, she wont back down in either doin it or arguin why doin it wld be smth-ist. shes not the sharpest tool ok rip lu

loyal legend ! fr her friends n buds, shell turn a blind eye. pals r the only exception ! truly ride or die n will do errthng 4 em. v much a believer in the power of community n ppl needin ppl or wtvr, yk, all that stuff. shes mouthy but like, she helps ppl 

here’s a brief blurb n a more coherent look into lu as a character

TIDBITS

lu can understand spanish but hers is a bit broken, tis her secret shame shhh

she doesn’t believe in the institution. any institution. u name it, shes got beef

pls dont fact check her she cant hear u

probs lowkey thinks shes better than u bc shes vegan

prefers 2 be called “ lu ” n ny1 who insists on lucila is dead 2 her 

comments abt her not lookin like a pt w her height n frame will result in an earful n a dramatic outburst. it aint worth it chief

watches lotsa sports w her pops. mostly indiv ones. mma, boxing, tennis, track, etc

dont ask me abt her principles n politics, i cant explain em either. v inconsistent n just messy at this point tbh but here’s a lil attempt ig

she drives a 2018 prius n lives in a p nice 1br apt outside the club

her mom’s middle class n her dad is almost upper-middle class. he isnt a member of the club but, like ,,, he cld be if he wanted to lol. he spoils her sm while she hasnt rlly Spoken to her mom besides civility, rip they both stubborn, tis a vargas thing

she is v much in a comfy position money-wise n dsnt hav much Need to hustle but sis does hav a couple of organizations she regularly sends some dough to so thats nice ig

she went fr grassroots activist to a veteran twitter/tumblr/reddit/wtvr ranter n a change.org gofundme petition regular. is it burnout ? is she ok ? honestly who knows

WANTED CONNECTIONS / TAKEN CONNECTIONS

found family ! pals n squad wanted. y’all gotta hav patience or ear plugs to power thru her self-indulgent mini-rants but shell luv ya back tenfold !

carpool buds ? cld be a pal ! or maybe yall had a lil argument or small beef but lu still drives ym bc her pride ? said mother earth first even tho the tension n silly drama is funny 

homies to smoochies ! just sum nsa makin out. cld be pals, cld be flirty, idk, but if u wanna kiss her shes probs ok w that

smoke bud ! just sum1 thats her go-to 2 smoke w on her breaks. knows not to call her out on how its not healthy fr a trainer yada yada she knows ok. let her live

an ex ? idk yet shes not rlly datey but thats out there

crushes ! this bitch hot but does she know how to flirt ? not rlly. watch her fumble

debate club ! aka sum1 she bickers w relentlessly. its valid, sum1 fite her. r u a worker or a club member ? either works. its a whole club bc she can have tons, lu can be hella annoying n testy

clients ! self-explanatory. do they get along tho ? lets find out ! 

( im officially braindead now but if y’all got more ideas or think theres smth lu wld fit just lmk !!! down 4 wtvr, wld luv 2 hash it out w yall <3 ) 

[it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream]

It’s so dark - pt 2 (Spike x Reader)

Warning: Mentions of death, swearing, angst 

word count: 1,576

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You don't know how long you had been lying on the cold sodden cemetery ground staring up at the balls of gas in the sky we call stars. They were so beautiful. You'd never really taken the time to appreciate the little things in life. You were dying. 

You could feel you body getting colder, could almost feel the blood draining from your body and seeping into the earth beneath you. A tear slipped from the corner of your eye and you looked up blinking, staring into the eyes of your crying vampire. You shakily lifted your crimson palm to cup his stoney cheek. 

“Shhhh Spike, It’s okay, it’s okay.” You could hear Giles and everyone talking behind you, Willow and Tara were sat on either side of you chanting something gibberish and Buffy had just finished off the vampire that did this to you. God, you'd think with all your training or something you would have been able to stop this but it all happened too quick, you just had to save spike. You loved him too much to see him turn to ash. 

Spike brought you into his arms and cried into your hair, his firm hands gripping onto your bleeding body for dear life, you were crying because this was it, as much as you had hated your father in the beginning for being away with the slayer you wanted to get to know him and reconnect, you thought you had all the time in the world. Then there was Spike, your leather clad knight in shinning armour, the love of your life and you his. The greatest love in his lifetime. You cried into him as you felt your soul slipping away, your eyes blurry, looking up at the night sky, one last sigh. 

“I love you William.”

- unknown p.o.v.-

“Hybrid, you shouldn't be here, it is not your time yet, you’ve not realised your true destiny, born of Slayer lineage and Warlock, you harness great powers that with this love sacrifice will be fully realised when you rise from the earth re-born!”

You woke with a start. God what a weird dream…. until you realised, it wasn't a dream at all as you stared up at the lid of the wooden box that encased your very much alive body. You gasped and your hands flew to where the metal rod had once protruded from your skin. Nothing, no mark, no hole, like nothing ever happened. You started to panic.. You were in a coffin and everyone thought you were dead. What did that voice mean destiny? Slayer and Warlock lineage? You looked down, your body clad in your favourite black dress and on your chest.. spikes pendant he always wore around his neck. Your eyes welled up and you screamed as it started getting harder and harder to breath. You needed to get out, you punched the top of the lid with all the strength you could muster from your lying position and much to your surprise you heard a loud crack. You coughed and blinked as earth fell on your face, you hated to think what creepy crawlies were in the box with you. 

It had felt like a life time but you had managed to completely break through the layer of wood holding you hostage. The earth was hard and cold, your fingers racked the earth urgently, holding your breath as much as you could. It was like trying to swim to the surface of a pool but you never knew when you'd break through the top. You started panicking as the breath slipped away from you bit by bit. You just wished the ground would open up and let you out. You dug harder and harder and all of a sudden you felt a breeze, the earth had opened up…. as if by magic. Your fingers tingled, you watched what looked like purple smoke recede into your mud covered finger tips. Right now, you didn't question it, all you knew is you didn't like being buried alive. Your body squeezed from the hole in the ground and on tired achey arms you pulled yourself up and rolled onto your back, this time very much alive, and once again looking at the stars. 

You had tried to brush as much mud and leaves off as possible, but it wasn't worth trying. You stood slowly, scared your legs might give, turning, you glimpsed the white pearly headstone with your name engraved. Normally it would take a while to get a headstone when someone died, however, given Sunnydale’s reputation for people dropping dead every to minutes, there were a few places you could get one from around here. You gulped and held back tears, oh god, everyone must be out of their minds. How has this all happened. 

You didn't know where to go first, your heart knew where it wanted to go… to your platinum blonde boyfriends crypt, but you also didn't want to freak him out, and part of you wanted to find out what was actually happening to you incase this was all some sort of twisted trick and living wasn't the permeant situation… You found your legs carrying you towards your fathers house before your brain realised what was happening. You must have thought subconsciously that, surely, your father should know all about this? But what if seeing you alive puts him into shock… I guess it would be a risk you'd have to take unless…. there was always Willow and Tara… 

Before long you had changed direction and you were headed to the apartment that Willow and Tara shared. It was the middle of the night, the town roads lit up by nothing but the dull amber glow of street lights, the wind rustling through the bitter air and you, alone, barefoot, hopefully walking towards some answers and a much needed shower. 

Stopping, you looked up at the apartment building, part of you felt guilty that you were probably about to wake them but then you shook yourself remembering you just rose from the dead. Scoffing, you reached for the door handle that lead you into the block of apartments, locked. Of course it’s locked. You tried it again but no use… god, if the thing about having witchy powers was true then they sure would have been helpful now.. You felt stupid but you focused, placing your hand on the door knob, thinking and challenging some sort of energy into the door handle. You didn't have a fucking clue what you were doing but you had been around Willow and Tara to know a small thing or two. Before you knew it, the same purple smokey tendrils present at your gravesite, pulsed from your palm and the door flew open with a bang. Whoops… 

You'd only been to Willow and Tara’s apartment once, it was fairly new and they hadn't been there very long. You still remembered the way, following the grey marble tiles down the second story corridor to door number 3. You hesitated, you were nervous, scared… all of the above, but with a deep breath you took the plunge and rapped your fist on the door. At first you didn't know if anyone was in, no lights, no sounds of movement, but then a glimmer of hope as you heard a groan and the side light next to the sofa switched on. Here goes.. 

To say they were shocked was an understatement.. Tara was the one who had answered the door, she had screamed and knocked the lamp of the side table while staring at you with wide frightened eyes. Obviously all the commotion alerted willow who was in the other room, and she came out magic at the ready, poised to fight anything evil at the door. She too was shocked, disbelief fluttering across her facial features, then a grin and she was hugging you tightly and ushering you into the dimly lit apartment. 

After they had helped you wash up, brushed the twigs and dirt from your hair and sat you down with some coffee, you filled them in on everything that had happened. Explaining the weird voice, the prophecy, having to claw your way out of your coffin after you woke up again. Willow was healing your hands with some charms while Tara scoured through book after book, trying to find anything that might explain what had actually happened. But nothing. It had been hours and there was nothing. Yous sighed falling back into the sofa only one person on your mind. You sadly looked at Willow. 

“How is Spike?” She turned to you slowly.

“He’s not in a good way Y/N, Maybe you should go and see him, the last time I saw him he left your grave plot and went back to his crypt demanding to be left alone.” You couldn't help but let a couple of tears fall. 

“Theres nothing more I want than to go and see Spike, b-but what if this isn't permanent, what if this is some cruel joke and I see him and then I just die again..” You were really crying now, the full weight of what had happened setting in. Without saying anything Tara and Willow enclosed their arms around you and held you… for how long you didn't know.. all you knew was the sun rose and you were living to see another day.

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Okay so this is wayyyyy overdue.. but it’s here at least! Let me know what you think in the comments below and please tell me if you want to be added to a tagging list for future parts!