#i guess i should tag that too for organization purposes

[batvvvvv]

"and this has nothing to do with the plume of smoke rising from... oh, just about where your lab was, last i checked?" "shut the fuck up"

our plot begins on edward's doorstep! i'm still trying to figure out how i want to format all of this so um... bare with me! but this is what i'm doing for now because i don't have the patience for comics. story introduction below !!

after the world ended (not actually; although gotham had collapsed into ruin, the rest of the world was quite content ignoring their existence. let the city eat itself alive, they reasoned, and the problem would solve itself.) edward found himself incredibly, mind-numbingly bored. with everyone making chaos and scrambling for power, there’s no audience to his crime, and no payoff. money is obsolete, he already has all the power he needs with essentially a monopoly on tech and repair, and there’s no thrill of the chase without a functioning gcpd. he needs someone to BOTHER.

and who better than his old friend (read: guy who wants him dead) jonathan crane to bother while everything else goes to shit! so he heads over to jonathan's last known residence and proposes an alliance. jon tells him where he can stick it, and slams the door in his face.

then, about a week later, jonathan's entire laboratory is blown sky-high. jon has no idea who did it, (a lot of people hate him enough for that) and if ed has a clue he's not going to say a word. but nonetheless jonathan is now homeless and in dire straits! all of his supplies were destroyed, half of his work didn't make it out of the fire, and they're having a pretty bad goddamn day, alright, so their judgement isn't the greatest right now!

his first thought is the sirens. ivy is pretty much his only friend in gotham, but the sirens are at full occupancy right now with plenty of their own problems to solve, and jon knows ivy: she'll just tell him to suck it up and figure it out

again, no one else in the city likes him, so he's pretty much out of luck. until he remembers a... certain someone. and jon hates the idea. he really, really hates it. but they're down on their luck and if they want a chance at finding their footing and saving what's left of their hard work, they need a place to stay, and fast.

so he shows up covered in ash on edward nygma's doorstep, to request a second chance at that offer. edward laughs in his face, obviously, but lets him in nonetheless! he reasons that he could use the entertainment around the house, anyway.

neither of them have any idea what they're getting themselves into, but don't worry! the horrors are just around the corner <3

[wasteofbandagesxx]

Too young

{Dazai x reader}

"Hey Y/n, what's your dream?"

You thought long and hard on that question. You've never considered what you wanted to be when you first joined the mafia, but recently you came up with a dream. A life that your heart truly desires.

"Isn't it obvious? I want to become an amazing artist and write poems."

You knew living in the port mafia life wasn't easy. Dreams hardly come true once you join the organization. It's no children's playground, but kids are now joining the fights these days, either by choice or force. You've wanted to leave, you had doubts that you would fit into the port mafia, that you would get close to Dazai's level. You try to protect him the best he can, you would gladly sacrifice yourself for him. You've been trying to convince Dazai to run away with you, but he was too stubborn on finding a purpose to live. This isn't the answer, it never was.

"Dazai, listen to me. I know you want to find a purpose to live, but this isn't it. No matter how hard I try convincing you to run away, you would refuse and try committing suicide." You huffed. Dazai just responds with a giggle as he swings upside down on a tree trunk. You look up from the ground, sitting against the tree comfortably on a nice spring day. You glared at the boy covered in bandages but Dazai couldn't care less. "I'm serious Dazai. I want you to have an actual purpose to live, why won't you let me help you?"

Dazai falls silent and shrugs. He's mood immediately changed and it was worrying. "I guess it's because I don't want you to worry so much about me or waste your time. Focus on your purpose, not mine." He said plainly, he took the book you were reading from your hand and pulls it close to his face, surprisingly his face hasn't gone red yet from being upside down for so long. "Hey!"

"This book seems boring, I don't understand how your such a bookworm." He blabberd out as his face slowly turns red, he quickly sits up straight on the tree branch and gasps for air, making you giggle at his suffering. "It's because it's something that a kid would do, they read. We're 14, we should do things that teens do. This book is also interesting, it's full of poems about life and death." You explained before snatching the book from him. Dazai rolled his eyes and hopped off the tree branch to sit by you. You've always questioned yourself if your going to survive or not. You mostly worry about Dazai, wondering if he's gonna survive past his teen years or not.

"Hey Dazai, don't you think we're too young for all this port mafia stuff?" You asked. There was no response, just complete silence. He sighed, shaking his head before turning to look at you seriously. "Y/n, age doesn't matter when it comes to something like this. It all begins with us minors. Even if I were to try and escape with you, they would just bring me back here while you get your brains blown out. I witnessed the old bosses death, I'm Mori's alibi and therefore, I can't just leave. Doesn't matter if we're young, I'm sure we'll make it past our teen years." He said plainly, his eyes showing nothing but regret. Regretting the fact that he had to crush your dreams of escaping, and living a normal life together.

"Bummer....hey, promise me we'll both try to survive until the very end. Let's do it together." You said with hope in your eyes. Dazai was hesitant, and promises meant nothing to him, they were cheap. He couldn't break your heart though, he couldn't refuse to make a promise with you. You held your pinky up for him to make a promise, he couldn't refuse. "Alright, promise." He locked his pinky with yours as the promise was officially made.

"Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if you died first, you do suck at keeping promises." You laughed, Dazai scrunched his nose and flicked your cheek. "I, too, can keep my promises!" He huffed "yea right." You joked.

"Tag, your it!" He tags you and runs off with your book, you didn't even notice that he took it. You groaned in annoyance and began to chase him. "Give that back!!"

He just giggled and kept running, "Come and get me!"

"Dazai!!"

8 years later.

At the graveyard. It was beautiful, grave stones decorated and spoiled with gifts. The wind passes by every minute, softly and delicately. Leaf after leaf, they were everywhere as the trees slowly sway back and forth. There was a man, sitting behind a grave stone. The same as always, his humorous personality, his smartness and bravery, covered in bandages, but different clothing. The only things he's missing was a best friend, and closure. Where'd all the times go? The man wonders, staring aimlessly at the sky. He's laughed, and cried, and cried again. He felt lonely. Not only did his feelings change a bit, but his perspective of life as well, to save innocent people.

He joined the arm detective agency, because one of his old friends told him to find a new purpose, to do what's right. It's almost to what you've been telling him back when you were kids. He wishes you could see him now, he wishes you could've kept you alive to this day. "I'm sorry I didn't run away with you, Y/n." He mumbles out, his voice slightly cracking. He sighs deeply and runs his fingers through his hair, remembering the feeling of your hands playing with his hair. He watches the birds that passes by, two birds of a feather he thought as he imagined the two of you flying away to freedom.

"You were right Y/n, we were too young." He mumbles out again, the tone in his voice filled with sadness and sorrow.

"Dazai!" A young man calls out, atsushi nakajima, Dazai's apprentice. He ran up to Dazai with no air in his lungs, as if the little tiger boy was running for hours finding Dazai. "I've been looking for you. Kunikida is gonna be mad if he finds out your slacking off again." Atsushi said while trying to catch his breath. "Sorryy, got a little tired. Let's get going yea?" Dazai immediately put on his playful act and got up to leave, until atsushi struck a question at him.

"By the way, I heard you when I was by that tree over there. What did you mean by we were too young?" He asks. Dazai fell silent, he wasn't aware that he was listening, was too caught up in the moment to notice his apprentice. "It's nothing, let's get going yea? You did say kunikida would get mad if we don't get working, and I don't feel like getting yelled at." He says with a yawn, giving atsushi a playful smile and pats him on the head like a little kitty cat.

"Right!" Atsushi immediately walks away, not bothering for his superior to catch up with him. Dazai's smile quickly disappeared once atsushi left, he took one good look at the grave stone before putting his hands in his pockets and walks away.

Y/n, last name

July 6th 2001- December 23rd 2015

Dazai's mind was constantly on you. Always had these scenarios in his head of you guys living a happy life. The words you've told him were constantly playing in his mind. "Hey Dazai, don't you think we're too young for all this port mafia stuff?" Your voice was constantly nagging at him, he felt sick. As if you were next to him, it was unpleasant, because you aren't actually there. He kept walking with a broken heart, but still kept his head high, trying to stay strong just for you. Your face will forever remain in his memories, and your words. He wish he could've gave you the life you wanted, but that dream was long gone. Your words constantly playing in his mind.

"Too young."

[fictionnatic]

(No title yet)

Pairing: Prisoner!Mikey x Criminology Student!Reader

Summary: You and your class were given an assignment to interview a criminal—assigned to you—in your local prison. For safety reasons the school only allowed transactions through letters. It just so happened that you were assigned to possibly the most dangerous one. But, what you didn't expect is to fall for the criminal.

Tags: Age gap(Mikey:28, You:21)

Setting: Bonten timeline(but they get caught, obviously)

A/n: Idk how criminology works ngl, I just thought that it would fit this plot and I assume psychology is still involved. Also, I think this also works with a psychology student reader. Oh and you are a top student here:)

•(' ') will be used for thoughts

College has been hectic. All you wanted to do was rest and catch up on sleep. But alas you are being given an assignment. Well, top students need to relax too. That luxury would have to wait.

"So your assignment is to interview an imprisoned criminal. Our local prison was kind enough to sponsor you for this assignment. You will be assigned one person to interview for the purpose of finding the reasons of their actions and other possible important information. Do you have any questions?" your professor explained.

You raised your hand. "Yes (name)". "Uhh..so how long will we be doing this? And, how will we stay safe while interviewing? I mean they are criminals". A reasonable question considering that they are most likely capable of doing what a sane person can't.

"Ah I seem to have forgot to tell you, so for your information this assignment will take about a month's time, you will begin the assignment next week and will end about 4 weeks from there. As for your safety, the only mode of interaction you will be having is through letters. This ensures nothing unpleasant happens to any of you."

You nodded at what she said.

.

.

.

Well..this will be interesting.

You were holding the file of the criminal assigned to you. It's some guy named Manjiro Sano who was a leader of a gang and president of the infamous criminal organization "Bonten".

You've seen his name on the news before. All the vile things that his organization had done. A sour look formed on your face, you think it's great that they caught someone like him—and his people. Looking more through his file you see a picture of him. A man with white hair, a short and skinny stature and looks like he hadn't slept in years with absolutely no light in his eyes...just jet black.

'Damn..what happened to this dude' you thought. 'I guess that's the point, we need to know stuff about these people'. You hurried along and prepared questions for the possibly most dangerous man that they can assign.

.

.

.

(A/n. I literally forgot I did this and made a poll about it, I swear it was on accident. School has been wlvery busy lately so idk when I will be able to finish it. Anyway, I saw this in my drafts, I'm wondering if people are still interested. Should I continue?)

[lennsart]

The pipeline from sweet apple to sour lemon?

HEHEHEHEHE Anon I am very happy that you asked about it ! Congratulations, you chose the wip that I am currently working on :D

Full disclosure, the idea for this wip was inspired by two one-shots that I obsessed over around the same time :

Hiding behind plaster and ceramics, by @occasionallyprosie

And there are ten, by @staring-at-a-blank-pagee

I'm a little bit terrified by tagging the authors since I haven't asked for permission to post work inspired by what they did yet, but I don't want to do anything in their back jnezjnejnez so :

Hi ! If you see that, you both have had wonderful ideas that inspired me to write something that is becoming a massive project of mine ! I am talking about it because I got asked about my wips, but if you're not okay with me posting the actual fic, I'd be fine keeping it to myself :)

In both these fics, Legend, Twilight and Wind know each other from the adventure they shared during Triforce heroes, except when they're brought together for Linked Universe, Twilight and Wind don't recognize Legend. He changed too much, he lost too many people and is now unrecognizable from the kid that he was during Triforce heroes.

In And there are ten, though, there's a twist : A tenth hero arrives, and... It's this younger version of Legend, that Wind and Twilight of course recognize this time !

Basically, this wip takes the scenario from And there are ten, but with the background story from Hiding behind Plaster and Ceramics : no one stayed in Legend's life and he is traumatized by partings, so he decides to be cold and rude with the others in order not to get attached and not suffer when they inevitably have to separate.

Except, after a few weeks of travelling, a new portal appear, and Apple, a younger version of himself, comes out of it... And obviously, this time, Twilight and Wind recognizes him, and everyone is protective of him since he's the youngest one here, and though Legend decided himself that he'd be mean on purpose so that no one cares about him, the comparison between how they act towards Apple and towards him makes him very bitter.

You can guess, with how I talked about liking to write about healing and stuff, that it's going to get worse before it gets better.

This was supposed to be a little something that I wrote for myself, just because I craved more for these ideas, and then I talked about it to @sweeteastart, and... They were so invested ? Like full-on asking me questions and if they could read it and stuff, and I just realized, yeah, it's starting to become a good story, I should try to flesh it out !

It's also the wip that inspired this beautiful art of hers :

Oh, and it's also their fault that this wip has this title lmao, they kept calling Legend sour, and mixed with Apple's nickname... You get it !

Anyway, it is my current brainrot, and I had to consciously stop myself from writing on this wip in order to finish A cave like a net first 🤣

[jayflrt]

HELLO!

I like your work a lot like it's genuinely Hilarious so I thought you would be the best person to ask for this.

I want to make a writing tumblr for enhypen but I'm a little lost because I've never used tumblr (as a creator) before LOL just used twitter and AO3 to write/socmed for fictional fandoms (tbh this is my first time like being a proper fan of a kpop group as to occasionally liking a song or two).

Anyways! What I've gathered from my experience on twitter and the writers I've followed here is obviously your blog should have an intro about you (inc. what you're comfy with, what you write, etc.) and a master list of your works BUT some of Tumblr's mechanics are Confusing.

Like,

1) should I create specific tags for my asks?

2) on twt, usually you create a tweet like "Hi! New to #___twt, looking for moots blah blah" to get an initial burst of likewise new people to bond and communicate with, does it work similarly here and if so/not please elaborate TT

3) is the etiquette to reblog every work you like, or is that spammy and you should just like them?

4) is there any other advice you have for navigating tumblr (like odd quirks)

5) ALSO this is a small dumb question but in the fandoms I've been in until now we usually used socmed au instead of smau do you have any idea why that's different (low-key smau is smarter tho bcus it's a shorter abbreviation)

I think that's all. I tried going through your rules and intro again, but I didn't see anything on whether an ask like this was alright or not, but I hope it is! I didn't want to Like intrude, but I felt most comfortable asking you because you're also desi ❤️❤️.

Anyways!! If this is something you don't want to/don't feel comfortable answering or it's like annoying genuinely just ignore this, I don't want to be make anyone uncomfortable!

omg thank you so much ml, i'm so glad you enjoyed my works!! 🥹 welcome to the kpop community first of all!! did you recently become an engene? :') and welcome to the tumblr ff community too! honestly i feel like if you can navigate ao3 just fine then tumblr shouldn't be too difficult after a while but i'm sure it's confusing at first 😵‍💫

as for your questions i'll answer them in the same order you asked them:

1. honestly i'm not 100% sure if there's any real purpose behind specific tags for your asks other than organization personally LOL but it's pretty helpful if you want to go back to look through your asks for something instead of scrolling past all the posts on your blog !!

2. omg yes i love the twt intros 💗 honestly for tumblr i think i just started posting content right away whenever i made a blog 🤧 i think intros are usually just in your navigation anyways but if you want to talk to different authors then it doesn't hurt to send an ask!! usually people communicate with different authors via the ask box 🥰

3. all sorts of interaction is great but i think reblogs are preferred!! i typically use likes as my bookmarks and then reblogs to comment on work or share it to a wider audience. the algorithm for tumblr works so that your likes don't show for others (unless you make it public on your profile) but your reblogs are on the dashes of people who follow you

4. ooh i'd say make use of the tagging system!! using tags like #enhypen fluff or #enhypen x reader on your fics will make it easier for people to find your work 💘

5. HAHAH I USED TO CALL IT SOCMED AU TOO BEFORE I JOINED TUMBLR 😭 i still use social media au as a tag but i think smau is more widely used here!! not exactly sure why but im guessing its just easier to tag 🙂‍↕️ i get you tho bc i experienced the same culture shock

dont worry you're most welcome to send asks !! 🥰💘 and thank you for reading my rules and intro!! i definitely don't turn away anyone who's looking for advice <33 also omg fellow desi 🫶 welcome to enhablr !

[myreia]

wip wednesday

tagged by @lilas, ty beloved! 💕 tagging @roguelioness @tsunael @fourteenthz @ardberts

@birues @impossible-rat-babies @galadae @thevikingwoman uhhh so this fic which was supposed to be a quick prompt has spiralled and is now a three-parter. anyway. ARR setting, aur just joined the scions and what should be a happy moment is devolving in her and thancred having a fight disagreement. she's prickly and dragging her trauma around like someone in an airport who packed an excessive amount of luggage she's fine she's fine she's fine.

“You certainly know how to make an exit,” a familiar voice behind her says.

Aureia stiffens. No matter how frustrated she is with him, she can’t stop the little bubble of hope from rising in her chest. That he came to find her in the midst of everything means something she can’t put a finger on. “I needed some air,” she replies.

Thancred chuckles. “And, once again, I cannot fault you for having the right idea. A touch suffocating down there, is it not? I daresay Minfilia could do with some sun, but alas, she is as glued to her work as Urianger is to his books.”

The bubble pops. “Bookworm, is he?”

“You could say in abundance, aye. Incorrigible scholars, the lot of us. Fervour for knowledge and understanding knows no bounds for the typical Sharlayan, but for archons? Consider its intensity thrice fold.”

The lot of us… She hates how the phrase stands out to her. He has never spoken so candidly of his origins—or the people involved in them—before. For all the months they have known each other, he has been tight-lipped about his involvement with this organization. Perhaps he didn’t trust her yet. Perhaps he did but was instructed not to tell her. Regardless, it would be hypocritical to blame him for that, gods know she has kept a number of her own secrets, and yet this irks her. After all these months in Ul’dah, considering him a close friend���

It hits like a slap to the face.

“You never said you were from Sharlayan,” she says.

He shrugs. “I’m not.”

“Then where?”

He nods in the direction of the sea. “You’re looking at it—or in the direction of it, more like.”

“Then how…? Never mind.” Folding her arms, she shoots him a glance, her gaze lingering on the marks on his neck. She had wondered about the symbols, but never struck up the courage to ask him. “Do those make you an expert in aetherology, too?”

“No. I assure you, my area of expertise is not so abstract.”

“Not so abstract, hm?” she prods, trying to keep a straight face. “I wonder what that could mean. Of all the subjects that could attract your eye, what would you choose?”

He catches her eye, an amused smile on his lips, and bows theatrically. “My lips are sealed, fair lady, and you will never guess.”

“Unfortunate. I shall have to defer to process of elimination, then.”

“Oh?”

“I know what it isn’t. Music and bardship for one. Philandering, for another.”

He wheezes. “Oof,” he says with a painful wince. “I’m no stranger to low blows, but I didn’t expect one from you.”

She grins. “You should know better by now.”

“I should.” He returns her grin, hazel eyes bright in the seaside sun. Her playful jibes never seem to bother him; if anything, he seems to enjoy it. She has a sneaking suspicion that he sets himself up on purpose. “But enough of me. Here you are. Vesper Bay. The Scions of the Seventh Dawn. Now you know the truth of it.”

A lump forms in her throat. Nothing has changed between them—if anything, one could argue that they can only grow closer because of this—and yet she feels so unsettled. She would give anything to be back in Ul’dah, walking the Gold Court or wandering the Sapphire and Ruby Exchanges, moving to the rhythms of the city. She could talk with him about anything then. Now, out here in Vesper Bay, she feels… limited.  

Stuck.

“Here I am,” she murmurs. “And here you are.”

“I am glad for it. And I am glad that you and Minfilia have had the opportunity to meet. She has been so eager. Charmed, one could say, by the tales of your exploits. I may have overexaggerated certain events in the moment, and before you give me that look, I can say it was all in good faith and spirited storytelling—”

Aureia bites her tongue.

“But all that aside, you should get some rest. We have quite the task ahead of us. And I do believe it would do you well to get to know the others. You should speak with Y’shtola when the opportunity arises. I am certain she would appreciate it.”

The suggestion chafes. “Why?”

“Overlapping interests, for one. And I suspect you will get along well, for another. I can think of no mage as well-versed in the practice of arcane arts as she, save for Papalymo. I’m sure she can provide a guiding thought or three.”

“You think I need help? More training? Better training?”

“I—” He pauses, caught off guard by her tone. “Certainly not. I merely thought—”

“Because right now you’re implying I do.”

“That was not my intent.”

“I’m sorry my non-Sharlayan education doesn’t live up to the standards set by Minfilia’s brave and noble souls. Then again I don’t need tattoos on my neck to tell the world I have mastery.”

“And I know where your talents lie. I’ve seen them first-hand. You have nothing to prove, not to Minfilia, not to the others, and certainly not to me. You do not need to be an archon to have a place with us.”

Aureia forces back a grimace, her jaw clenching painfully. On any other day his words would be comforting, but here and now they fill her with dread. Anxieties creep across her mind, irrational and persistent, their spiderlike touch feeding her discomfort. 

“Then tell me this honestly, yes or no. Would I be here at all if not for the Echo?”

The question is blunt. Forceful. She’s given him no room to maneuver, no way to escape. There is only one way to answer this.

Thancred closes his eyes. “No,” he says finally. “I do not believe that would be the case. It is the gift that sets you apart. It is what caught my attention. Without it, you would not be here, for without it—and a long line of other convoluted coincidences—we would never have met.”

A lump forms in her throat. “And I’d be just another adventurer on the streets of Ul’dah.”

“Aye. I suspect as much.”

A wave crashes against the dock, throwing up a spray of salt and water. Aureia turns away, her eyes stinging. She can feel Thancred’s gaze on her, watching closely.

“That is not the answer you wished to hear, was it,” he says.

It’s not a question.

She wets her lower lip and tastes brine. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Would you have preferred I lied?”

“No—”

“Then why are you angry?”

“I’m not angry!” She turns sharply, rounding on him, and meets his eyes. Most would step away from the look she gives him, but not him. He knows her well enough not to be intimidated. Not that he was ever intimidated by her. And judging from his expression, just as she is unwilling to put up with his bullshit, so he is with hers. “I am...”

He raises an eyebrow. “Seems to me the word you are looking for is angry.”

She curses.

He smiles.

“Don’t,” she says bluntly. “Just… don’t. Please. I’m not in the mood for this.”

[mrfancyfoot]

Raphael x Evie (f!OC) | Rating: E/varied | Chapter 1 on AO3

Chapter 5: Not Even for Eldritch Blast

Raphael offers to make Evie his warlock.

Chapter Rating: G / SFW Word Count: 516 Warnings: None

.

Story Summary: All’s fair in love and war. Things are bustling in Baldur’s Gate as the city rebuilds. Life is looking up for Evie who has ambitions set on her (re-)inventions and business ventures as she juggles a certain vampire’s budding political career, the unwitting godhood bestowed upon her by a clan of fanatical fish people, and the increasing attentions of a devil who she believes woefully has no other friends. . Story Tags: Tags will update with progress, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Fluff, Humor, Manipulation, Eventual Smut, Modern Girl in Baldur's Gate, Canon-Typical Behavior, Varied Chapter Lengths, Not Canon Compliant, Possessive Behavior, Dubious Morality, Dubious Consent, Worldbuilding, Kuo-toa, She's not stuck with him he's stuck with her, Has plot-legs, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Warning: Raphael, Raphael is obsessed, No sleeping with Haarlep, Girl has her shit together and that’s sexy, Neurodivergent OC, Lawful Evil meets Chaotic Neutral, Marriage Contract, Slice of Life

.

Evie covered a yawn and looked expectantly towards the man standing in front of his desk.  Human this time.

She wasn’t sure if his insistence on summoning her here this late was some attempt to be covert - it wasn’t like her companions didn’t know of their meetings - or if he just wanted her tired in the hopes that she would be more amenable to…whatever.

Raphael clasped his hands behind his back.  “Korilla tells me that you have shown much interest and initiative in learning magic.  Have you given any thought to becoming a warlock?”  His gaze drifted from her to the ceiling, dropping back with each overly emphasized word until he awaited a reply, “Certainly a consideration when one does not have the time to dedicate the required long years and intense efforts to studying wizardry.”  Another sales pitch, then.  Always gotta hurry, hurry.

“Like Wyll?”  She didn’t know much at all about warlockry - not a class she’d ever played in any of her D&D games - but he was definitely an example of what could happen when your convictions didn’t match your patron’s.  The last thing she wanted was to be stuck in a similar situation.

Except Eldritch Blast, she knew about that.

“Yes, one is given power through a deal made with a patron.  Such as Wyll’s contract with Mizora.  And very much akin to your fox Aspect - you made a deal with a nature spirit in exchange for power.  Trivial power, though all the same.”  Evie found the more she watched him speak - emphatic gestures, purposeful, even over expressing with his face - the more…hypnotic it was.  Like everything was a stage performance.  “I can make you far more powerful than Wyll.  Korilla could even mentor you.”  It was a more fun mask to try to decipher than the normal ones.

“For the low, low price of my soul, I’m guessing?”  Evie side-eyed the contract that appeared near her with a wave of his hand.

“I am a bit possessive,” he frowned coyly, “so your connection with the spirit would be severed.  But I’ll let you keep the fluffy tail and ears.”  She scoffed as his frown turned into a teasing smirk and he drew his fingers together in a mimicry of claws.  “Even the itty, bitty claws and those things trying to pass as fangs in your mouth,” he finished with a sharp click of his teeth.

“No, thanks…”  She batted away the parchment.  “Though, while I’m here…if this is going to be a regular thing, can we at least agree on a day and time?”

“Absolutely, dear fox,” Raphael too readily agreed.

It occurred to her then that her exhaustion had gotten the better of her.  She should have been telling him to stop pulling her here on his whims, yet, instead, she just offered to set up meeting times with him like he was her manager.

And he certainly saw himself that way, no doubt pleased by her suggestion as it only fed the legitimacy of whatever this was.

Maybe she’d be able to get some proper sleep in before, though.

Thank-you for reading! <3

[merge-conflict]

give me violence pls and ty; 6, 7, 19 & 20

questions here ty for the ask I love people immediately came into my inbox to ask me to complain about canon y'all know me so well

6. which ship fans are the most annoying?

I'm not really annoyed by any particular ship, more so people who complain about other shippers not doing it right- and specifically if they put it in the character tags.

also anyone who has gone through silverv tags and forced me to add a nonbinary tag to my stuff because they a) assume that she/her pronouns mean a woman and b) are apparently obliged by their tagging system to distinguish between female and male v. c'mon man. it's only happened twice but that was enough.

7. what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them?

idk about *hate* exactly but Rogue, I guess? she so often seems to be either a mommy character to people's v's or people talk about how tragic she is for liking johnny, which I don't understand. she doesn't seem to be very nurturing and it's pretty clear she's got a soft spot for johnny but given she's lived to be 90 doing merc work I think she can take care of and make decisions for herself that are "bad" without being pitied for it? it's not like johnny is manipulating her. he asks and she says yes even though she's dumped him to the curb and could easily walk away or refuse. anyway I don't hate rogue, I just don't see a lot of her, and the characterization I do see I'm lukewarm on.

19. you're mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like...

I had the usual cyberpunk experience of wanting to stick Johnny's head in the toilet and then he grew on me, so now every time I see him I still want to physically fight him but like in an affectionate way. So embarrassing.

Also: Smasher?? Like he still terrifies me, but what a character! He's a brain in a tin can and all he wants to do is perform violence, and unlike most of the other lore in game (cyberware will make you crazy!!) he's been Like That since he was 100% organic. There's just something wrong with him that makes him immune to bodily concerns and Arasaka keeps him like a literal attack dog they can use to scare people. He has such a clarity of purpose. He has a body that looks like Elvis. He used to talk in a southern accent. I think he should live forever.

20. part of canon you found tedious or boring

there are lots of AIs that are all FERAL and EVIL in the cage and they're going to come get you. now hold on while we act out the TCP handshake in 3D with visuals that make your eyes hurt that apparently people are working in all day because abstractions make tech COOL and ENGAGING. we have the tech to mess with people's memories and upload their souls but these AIs are ALL POWERFUL and in fifty years we haven't found the servers they're squatting on. the only one you can make contact with used to be HUMAN but all the rest are definitely BAD and MAD and INSANE. also they can insta-kill people or possess killer robots. this fits perfectly in the cyberpunk theme of um uh. technology has gone too far? people are at their fucking limit?

I forget exactly what scifi writer talked about it and it's impossible to google "AI anxiety" in tyool 2024 and get anything but people concerned ChatGPT is sentient, but there's this idea that the scifi story anxiety about AI rebellions or robots killing all humans is basically repackaged anxiety that people who have been stepped on or used or enslaved are going to suddenly fight back and kill everyone is not a new one. It's just "ah the oppressed are dangerous because some day they will want revenge". These AIs are super smart and powerful but they're not going to have the sentience to recognize allies? They just kill indiscriminately? They're no better than monsters? Alright. Maybe the sequel will surprise me and get into some nuance but I'm distrustful by nature.

[what-the-hell-is-going-on-here]

yes, i caved and i'm making a proper (???) pinned post

HI!!! call me cervid :3

I LIKE AND FREQUENTLY POST ABOUT VORE AND STUFFING!!!

(not in the gross way i swear hear me out)

i dont like stuffing in a weight gain way (no hate to ppl who do, its just not my thing) and, for vore, i enjoy the g/t, SAFE, SOFT kind (fatal sometimes but not heavily in detail) and nonsexually! i like both of those things in a comfort/show of love thing if that makes sense. i also like g/t just in general. im too lazy to tag any of it unless its for reach purposes (like my writing or other stuff like that) so Watch Out i guess 💀

I do post about normal stuff too!! (i like to draw and write) so ofc i dont mind when "normal" blogs follow but just be aware of what i reblog lol

i dont bite! pls interact 👁️👁️

more info (fandoms, my works, likes/dislikes, dni) under the cut because this is Long...

the kind of vore/stuffing things that i do NOT like (keep in mind if u wanna suggest/send something):

-heavily detailed hard vore/more on the gore side

-death feedism

-feedism specifically for like.. weight gain

-unrealistic stuffing/vore (like. when their tummy is bigger than the rest of their body SORRY ITS JUST NOT MY THING)

-most pregnancy stuff

(ill add to this later)

im into a ton of fandoms but currently 2001: a space odyssey, electric dreams, ultrakill, inscryption, fallout new vegas, and i have no mouth and i must scream are overtaking my brain, if you are one of the rare ppl who like those and like vore/stuffing too PLEASE SEND ME ASKS. PLSSSS IM DESPERATE LITERALLY ANYONE CAN SEND ME VORE OR STUFFING RELATED ASKS PLEEEAAASEEEEEEEEEEEEEE IM BEGGING. I LOVE WRITING ABOUT STUFF PLS

also im otherkin! so ill reblog that stuff too (yes im weird, yes i take pride in that)

I NEED TO REMAKE MY SONA AHH

some of my works are below!

https://www.tumblr.com/what-the-hell-is-going-on-here/734572176007741440/am-vore-hcs-ihnmaims?source=share ihnmaims vore hcs - AM

https://www.tumblr.com/what-the-hell-is-going-on-here/733758413915422720/use-this-to-talk-about-soft-vore-i-wanna-know-how- misc soft vore ramble

https://www.tumblr.com/what-the-hell-is-going-on-here/747607936331907072/ultrakill-vore-doodles-3 ultrakill vore doodles :D

https://www.tumblr.com/what-the-hell-is-going-on-here/754941524823916544/enjoy-lol fallout: new vegas vore doodles w/ vulpes and the courier

my fandom-specific vore tags (and other special tags) are

#electric noms (for electric dreams)

#i have no mouth and i must vore (for ihnmaims)

#cervid talks (for plain text posts, usually abt vore/stuffing brainrot, or any other time i think i should use it)

#ultranoms (for ultrakill)

#fallout: nom vegas (for fallout: new vegas)

#cervid works (for any original art/writing, not necessarily vore/stuffing but probably will be)

I am not the best at organization and I will definitely miss stuff but bear with me yall o7

please dni if-

-you are a purely nsfw blog (yes this goes for vore blogs that are sexual)

-you're gonna argue abt my interests

-you are deeply uncomfortable if you see vore/stuffing posts (dont wanna risk seeing it? then pls dont follow!) not saying all my followers have to like it just dont follow if seeing the occasional post will make u rlly grossed out

-youre an asshole. come on have some standards just dont be weird... plss....

thanks

[linabirb]

[alter introduction]

hello ✋ apologies if this is a bit sudden, lina said they're okay with us posting things and i'm fronting right now, so.. i thought that maybe i should introduce myself?

my name is winter and i've made myself known to the host not so long ago and they actually didn't know that i, you know, was there. i'm not sure about my age and gender, but i'm fine with any pronouns. i'm one of the fictive alters in our system, which means that i'm based (is that the right word?..) on a fictional character and that's different from something like kinning, since i'm a completely different person with a different name, my personality is slightly different from my source version and i don't really feel connected to my source either. i just.. exist, i guess. (some of us do have their kinlists though, not just lina) i'm completely fine with talking about my source version, but lina needs some time to get used to having alters like that, so i won't talk too much about it (but i think it should be pretty obvious). when it comes to the role i play in the system, i'm a dissociation holder and also i'm the one who often fronts to remember or learn information during class (i think i've seen some people call it an academic alter?..) and i've recently seen a post about a type of alter who experiences the feeling of emotional numbness to protect the host or other headmates and i think it fits me a lot.

i think lina would rather have us make our own tags for organization purposes (we'd rather not have our own blogs and just use this one) so um, i think i can just go with "[❄️ winter speaks]" and [🌨️ winter answers] ". i don't really know how to make it more aesthetic, lina and our other headmate are more into things like that.

i don't really know much about my interests, to be honest, since i mostly front to study or to help the host when they're struggling with derealization and all of that, but i think reading and making music is nice?.. maybe i'll learn more about my hobbies in the future.

so, um, that's it for the introduction. one of our headmates also has an intro saved in the drafts, but it's been a week or two since she last fronted.

so uh. i hope we can get along :)

[electricpurrs]

Sorry for asking, but what do the various emoji tags mean?

OH SORRY LMAO ive always wondered if i should give some sort of explanation to the honestly obscene tagging system i got but i figured nobody really cared since theyre mostly for my own personal organization purposes, but the emoji tags on my pinned post are:

#🧃 -> just my personal original post tag lol the way people have "[name] rambles" and shit but i was too lazy to come up with a tag so im just using the juicebox emoji as a shorthand for my name (juice)

#💭 -> the reason this tag is an emoji is just because i couldnt figure out a way to describe it LOL its mostly stuff like poetry and art in a kinda "this makes me feel some sort of feelings" way. you can get the gist by just browsing the tag really

#🛰️ -> this is just my tag for general space stuff! from pictures and art of space, to irl space science/astronomy, to space exploration/spacecraft/space probes, to space related sci-fi and spaceships and aliens and all that stuff. i could just call it [#space] or something i just think the little satellite emoji is cute <3

#🖥️ -> i think this one is also pretty self explanatory its just a tag for general tech related stuff! computers, video game consoles, synthesizers, old tech, cables and wires and circuit boards, you name it

and thats it basically LOL. its not really that complicated i just like making overly convoluted tagging systems because thats what my autism sorting tendencies led me to i guess o7

[sehodreamsthoughts]

heheh do u know if he’s going to be in a group or not? i will look into it later, but i saw ur tags say he might sing trot or i misunderstood?

ooh hehe so ill respond to ur responses and give my own for the two that we both asked each other.. ur not crazy for wearing jeans to bed but tbh with u i would never!! maybe in the past but i’m very much a get home and put my pajamas on person.. i don’t wear anything other than pajamas in my apartment but i also have a cat and he’s a longhair, he’s very hairy and his hair gets over everything and im weird about having cat hair all over my daytime/going out leaving the house clothes, so i don’t want to wear anything that’ll get dirty/hairy at home and i don’t want to be deterred from cuddling him or picking him up either🤭🤭

as for a medium that i find most touching? your answer was really lovely and makes a lot of sense!! and i think writing and music go hand in hand very well so its cool that both of those are mediums u feel connected to because they compliment each other well i think. i’d have to say writing might be one for me, as well, or poetry but it depends because im not really big into poetry.. like i just don’t read a lot of it but could.. i think i prefer to take in information/learn things through reading/seeing it written down or actually doing it, so i think i connect with writing because of just that, like how my brain works i don’t know.

for orchid, a song that is perfect? i’m trying to think because songs i like usually change a lot, and we talked about this before.. im not super into lyrics? ‘honestly’ by riize sounds soo good to me like just the way it sounds is amazing and i thought that song was so perfect when i heard it for the first time i was like this is incredible i love how this sounds so much… idk🤕🤕

and for palm tree? a fictional character that i love but shouldn’t hehe, im trying to think of a good answer im sure i have one…idk if this counts but.. have u seen do revenge ? it’s like a teen/chick flick thing but it was recent but i really liked it and austin abrams is an actor in it and like.. he’s horrible but like.. i would still fold. like idk what it is about the little guy i want him so bad. every now and then he shows up in a movie i watch and im like oh hi…

i honestly can’t think of a villain rn😭😭 i do love a good feminine revenge story though so like, if a woman is doing things that are really horrible and wrong but it has a deeper purpose that maybe only makes sense to her… i love her<3

also it is hard having an expressive face but the positive is that it usually means ur honest and you don’t hide things from people.. makes sense with being a scorpio though too and having intense emotions and feelings towards things?

and i loveee matcha that sounds really fun if u are able to u should try making drinks at home! i always want to as well but i have a lot of trouble keeping my home clean and organized and so it gets more stressful to do a lot of stuff that requires clean up… idk if im making sense,,, also i dont usually wake up super early for work so i usually just stop for coffee on the way there.

thanks for playing and asking<333 i’m sorry i feel like my answers could be better i’m just still sooo tired from the concerts ive been feeling so sick and only just got home recently :((

- 🥟 anon

I just saw that he was going to debut as a trot singer but I honestly have no idea since I just saw it on TikTok 😭, to be honest I don't care what he does I just want to see him so bad 😭😭😭 he has so much talent, a great voice, dancing skills and such a nice presence, he made me fall in love with him when I saw him those few times with the neos and oh god, I mean, I love the seven, but idk, I guess since he's older he wouldn't have fitted the riize concept, but it'd have been so nice to see him with Eunseok and Hani 😭

I have a cat too! He's not long haired but I totally understand the hair thing, my cat is white and before I leave my house I always clean my clothes with a sticky roll(?) because I also can't stop him, if he wants a hug or rest in my lap how could I 😭, I love him so much even when he's a little piece of shit (he's fucking demanding I swear, a covid cat 🫠)

I'm also not so big in poetry, I have friends that read poetry most of the time but I need a little more to feel the stories 🫠 anyways I think is great that you connect with writing! I also believe that those two (music and writing) are connected, or at least in our cases because I can't imagine myself writing/reading without music, even if I repeat the same song in a loop, I need some feeling 😭

Awww I find it so adorable that one of the songs you consider perfect is from riize, I don't really enjoy honestly because I can't with the lyrics 😭 (not judging of course), but if I had to choose one song from them I think I'd choose memories because I also fell in love with it the second it started, it made me feel like when I was school and I listened to exo between classes, the MV is precious to me and it's simply the song I've repeated the most from riize ever 🩷 (I can't believe that one song did so much for me to even come back to Tumblr and write for a group 😭, I think l my feelings aren't as strong as then, but I still appreciate them a lot!)

I haven't seen that movie but I know the guy! I saw what he did but I can't find him hot as a bad guy if I'm honest, I just saw him in euphoria and thought he was the cutest thing ever 😭(also the bathroom scene... Sorry but the way he came after eating Kat out had me wishing it was me 😭😭😭😭) For that question I also can't think of any villain but I guess it could include Loki and Bucky, those two had me on a chokehold the whole lock down and I didn't care that they were fucking wrong and did really bad things, I just wanted them SO BAD 😭 (oh, I love women taking revenge too, one of my favorite movies ever is promising young woman and I support women in everything they do, rights and wrongs 👩‍🦯)

It could be said that me being expressive is related to honesty but if I'm fr with you I hid a ton of shit when I was younger and I still do so I don't know if that could be applied to me 💔, I show my emotions but I don't think I could be considered a piece of god taking into account that I do lie or manipulate reality into my benefit a lot 😭 (this sounds bad but it's related to my job ☠️), I don't like doing it in my real life anymore but God when I was younger I'd turn my body and tell my parents with a straight voice "oh yeah I was studying" but I would be in another place maybe having brunch with a tinder guy (my parents were pretty strict until lock down 😭), I was a bit out of control when I was younger, but now I'm a new person and mostly do it only at work (also because I'm such a sweet pea right now I don't really have nothing to hide? I haven't gone out on a date for a year already and spend most of my time on my own so I don't know what I would have to lie about 😭)

You're totally making sense, that's also part of my case so that's one of the reasons I usually drink or eat outside, just that in my case is because if I do something for me, I have to do it for everyone, and there's nothing I hate more than having to serve others because I don't only hate to prepare a ton of shit but I also have to clean it up? No thanks ☠️ (well, there goes my dream of being a stay at home wife for a sexy older man like Hugh Jackman or Pedro Pascal...)

Thank you for playing with me my love and please don't worry at all about your answers, they were perfect and I enjoyed reading them a lot! Please take your time to get your energies back, you've had an intense week and you deserve it 🩷🩷🩷

[beastsovrevelation]

Warning: NSFW, mentions of gore

I did not need any more Warrior Nun ideas/WIPs, but here we are. I recently thought of an AU where Adriel is hermaphroditic. He's still well, a he, it doesn't impact his appearance nor identity, but he does have a functioning set of female sexual organs. He devoured his twin sister in the womb, of course he did. He wanted to be the only child.

Oh, and keep in mind, it's one AU, not a general headcanon of mine. Now I also need a tag for it or something, but, the idea is only a number for now.

His lady friends (Lilith, Areala, or Ava) can pick whether they're more in the mood for a sword, or a sheath, if you know what I mean. He'd let his girfriends have his pussy whenever, as long as he gets to fuck them in return. I don't think Areala would care too much, she's straight. Maybe, she'd touch him there simply out of curiosity. I don't know about Lilith, but Ava would definitely like it.

It's probably another way of mine to knock him up, honestly. Mind you, there's two WIPs containing it when he's biologically male only. In this one, he'd probably convince Areala to help him catch a tarask, cut off it's testicles, and impregnate himself with a hybrid. His mom would not be happy (mainly because it's insane, but she'd take her grandchild when Adriel get imprisoned). Oh, and of course Adriel would still knock up Areala the usual way. That doesn't change about him, either. Later, he'd convince Ava to do the same thing. No, he can't just do IVF if he wants to carry like a normal person.

Why would Adriel want to impregnate himself in any version? Well, because he wants to be God (create life/new being), and because he likes attention.

I guess I have to create an OC for the child of Adreala carried by Adriel now. I think she'll be named Ishtar, to stay with Mesopothamian names. With Ava, it would just be Selene.

In Age of Angels, Adriel is away when Ava gives birth (that's what I'm planning, anyway). He has to kill people who tried to hurt her (I don't want to spoil too much). The OCS bring her to safety, and she has the baby under their watch, cared for by Reya. Then, he returns. I'm thinking this could have the reverse, Ava tells the OCS to protect Adriel, goes off to kill whoever threatened them both, and he goes into labor. He could have a placental abruption to raise the stakes... If the scene somewhat reminds you of Medici S3, it's what inspired me.

Yes, I wonder what's wrong with me too, and why do I think of so many different ways of having my favorite characters almost bleed to death.

Why would Adriel want to impregnate himself in any version? Well, because he wants to be God, and because he likes attention.

I think Ava would also be reincarnated Areala in this. So, there's more drama. With bitter, angry Ishtar, and Balthazar.

Lilith/Ishtar?.. Before Selene, they're the only Tarask hybrids in existence. Or maybe, I should stick with Lilith/Therion (Adriel's older sister, whom he didn't get to devour, and who's her pairing in Age of Angels).

P.S. - I'm avoiding the term "intersex" on purpose. Adriel would think it's stupid. In his realm, the word "hermaphrodite" has no negative connotation.

[silver-weasel]

Diving (Deku x Reader)

Pairing : Deku x fem!reader (aged-up characters)

Rating : E, 18+

Tags : smut • fem!reader (she/her) • best friends to lovers / childhood friends to lovers • quirkless AU • p*rn with feelings (like. a lot of them) • public sex (more or less) • switching • hair pulling? • pining • Deku being flustered and an absolute angel what’s new • Reader being a teasing brat • It’s all soft and fluffy, I’m as vanilla as you can get 🤷‍♀️ • Happy birthday to the bestest boyyy I love him so much it hurts

Word count : 10 600 (Holy sh—)

A/N : Thank you @hoe-doroki my beloved and savior for beta-ing <3

Written for @rat-zuki​’s collab in honor of our favorite birthday boy, The Deku Agenda Escapes no One. Thank you so much for letting me join! (go check out the other amazing writers and artists!)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

The ground grinds repeatedly under your hiking shoes, some pebbles being kicked forward on your way. You’re way too deep in the forest to hear any cars passing by and during the two hours you’ve been here you haven’t run into anyone. The place seems empty, the only souls breathing the forest’s thick air being you, Izuku and the birds chirping all around you.

The afternoon is coming to an end, the sun sinking down on its way to hide behind the mountains. The remains of its soft light are filtering through the dense leaves all around and above you. You’re surrounded by green, lush and immeasurable greenery, every plant merging into another.

You’ve left the marked paths, now wandering deep in the richest, boundless part of a forest you both know like the back of your hand after roaming it all over innumerable times. All over, except for this part, in which you’re setting foot for the first time today. Your many previous hiking sessions were shortened by your questionable sense of organization, always arriving too late to explore further into the unknown.

Leaves brush against your knees with every single step you take as you follow Izuku on his heels. He’s moving at a steady pace, his hands holding tight the straps of his yellow backpack that he’s had for as long as you can remember. He’s always so organized, has everything you two could eventually need and generally never do. Two huge flasks of water, an entire meal he calls ‘little snacks’, with sandwiches, fruits, protein bars, even hard-boiled eggs. A first-aid kit with disinfectant, bandages, scissors and painkillers. Hell, you’re even wondering if he has any pads for you in there, in case of an unexpected period. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

You giggle lightly when you see him stumble for the sixth time since you got here; he can’t seem to keep his curious eyes from drifting up and around, looking in every direction, probably retaining every detail and logging it in some impressive mental database of his. And he’s commenting on every little thing he sees too; he makes you notice things you never would have if it weren’t for his candid interest in everything.

“Oh! Look at that bird!” he exclaims, pointing at a branch over your heads. “Do you see it, right there, with the red mark!”

You turn your gaze to where he’s pointing and see a little bird, very cute, but so tiny you’re wondering how one could spot it without specifically looking for it. That’s probably what you like most about Izuku: his attention to detail. That’s the thing—nothing is too small for him, everything is worthy of interest. His eyes always light up with such curiosity, this child-like wonder and it was always one of your favorite things to witness growing up.

When he came over to your house at age six, he was always running around with some bug on his forearm, calling your name, yelling, “Look at this!”

Most of the time, it was a snail or a ladybug, and that always managed to catch your interest. Sometimes, it was a spider or a beetle, and he had you screaming in horror more than once, running to your mother’s legs with weeping eyes. Those times, he always watched you go with wide, sad eyes and a wobbly lip, because, “I would never hurt her, Mom! I swear I didn’t want to scare her!”

“Oh, yeah, I see it! It’s so cute!”

And it is cute, the way his huge green eyes go even rounder in amazement. You treasure these hikes for providing occasions to witness this. But as much as you wish this moment could last forever, the sun is beginning to set, you probably shouldn’t go deeper in the forest at sundown.

“We should probably head back to the car, Izuku. It’s gonna be dark soon.”

“Come on, it’s still so light—there’s no rush!” His lips crook a bit into an impish smile. “Scared that a bear is coming to get you?”

“There aren’t any bears here—we’ve been coming for five years.”

“Because if it’s the bears you’re afraid of,” he begins, ignoring you on purpose, “you know I’ll protect you, right?” he says, sticking out his chest like he’s some superhero.

“Against a bear? Right.”

“You’re underestimating me? That’s just mean.”

You chuckle at his antics, shooting him a look of yours that says, ‘Come on, please?’.

His eyes soften a bit, but he’s used to that look; it’s been years since it worked on him as well as you’d like it to.

“We can just keep going this way, then we’ll make a loop and head back to the car directly! It’ll be even shorter this way.”

“Alright, let’s do that,” you agree, and the smile it elicits from him makes something tingle deep in your stomach.

You move forward again, sinking deeper within the forest. It’s becoming harder and harder to walk, brambly branches and huge leaves blocking your way more and more with every step.

You’re a bit ahead of him when you catch sight of a sparkle behind the bushes. Just a glimpse of light, but you’re positive you saw it. Is there water here? You never really looked at a map of the place before—you just always went wherever you felt like and used the same tracks on the way back. You hurry up a bit, curious eyes fixed on that glimmer of light.

Soon enough the dense greenery comes to an end, and you’re finally out of the bushes, finding your way into a little clearing. You’re standing, speechless, in front of a pond: it’s about forty feet wide, catching the last rays of sunshine in a dazzling reflection. The water is surrounded by gigantic trees big enough to be home to an entire niche of biodiversity, and a half-sandy, half-stony shore with reeds rising from the water on both sides.

It’s all calm and quiet and massive trees, branches pouring, cascading above still water. The air feels cool, filled with a pure smell of dew and spring even though it’s the end of a hot day of July.

Izuku is close behind you and lets out a very cute, “Whoa,” ditching his backpack on the ground next to you in the middle of the cove. The both of you just stand there for a moment in complete silence, aside from the birds chirping. Izuku breaks it first:

“How come we’ve never seen this before? This place is amazing.” He sounds distant as he speaks, soaking up his surroundings like he always does.

“I guess you never know everything about anything,” you say mindlessly, without detaching your gaze of the wonderful view ahead.

He’s standing close to you, very close. You’re only noticing now that you’re coming down from the high of your discovery. Your arms are brushing, you can feel his body heat from how close you two are. It wouldn’t be the first time; you’re no stranger to being physically close to Izuku. You’ve been playing together since you were able to put one foot in front of the other. And you wish you could say it feels any different right now, but that would be a lie. Being close to him always felt the same. Always felt like the only easy thing in your life. The only constant.

Yet it’s not enough. No matter how close, it’s never enough, it never was. You hate yourself for feeling that way; you’ve never been the greedy, unsatisfied type. You have everything with Izuku. Well, almost everything.

But right now this place—this very quiet, beautiful place with no one in sight is doing things to your fertile imagination. Despite the sun just beginning to set, the summer air still remains thick with heat. You find yourself staring in the abyss of that water, admiring the masterpiece of a reflection on the surface, a painting of leaves and clouds and blue sky. It calls you, sings an irresistible song of fresh water on sweaty skin and strong, freckled arms wrapped around you.

You don’t know if the slight, insignificant detail that you would have to undress in order to dive into that water—since you didn’t bring a swimsuit—is a better reason to do it or to refrain from doing so.

You’ve lost count of how many moments you’ve shared with him just like this one. So many chances for you to take. You never have.

Back to the original issue: can you see yourself walk out of that clearing the way you always do? Can you see yourself going home, adding this missed chance to your growing collection of lost memories, of hands within your reach that you chose not to take?

The answer pops in your mind, crystal clear for the first time since you met him.

You drop your bag on the ground, turning to Izuku with a delighted expression stretching your features. The look on your face reminds him of one he’d seen on you as a kid, bouncing on the balls of your feet in front of the ice cream truck. At this moment he just knows you’ve got some stupid shenanigan in mind, like you always do. Once again, he isn’t wrong.

“Wanna take a dip?” You’re squinting at him from his side, a mischievous smile lighting up your face.

“I-I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” he stutters.

It’s been a long time since he last stuttered in front of you. He got rid of it years ago, but it still resurfaces sometimes in front of intimidating strangers or in a socially uncomfortable situation. Never in front of you, though.

“Me neither,” you answer plainly with that same impish smile, and his eyes go round at your implications.

“Wait, you can’t be—Oh my God—”

His heart does a great flip in his chest when he catches you taking the hem of your shirt up over your head. In less than five seconds, you’ve got him scorching hot, feverish and suddenly he can’t tell right from left.

His reflex is to bury his face in his hands. He respects you too much to take a peek, but you’re making things very difficult for him. He can hear you move towards the water, can hear the thump of your forgotten shoes hitting the ground one after the other, can hear the soft pad of your naked feet on the rocks.

“For the love of God, please, put it back on…” 

“What? Look at this view, it would be a shame not to make the most of it!”

He’s not looking at the view right now, he can’t let himself. He knows very well he won’t be able to focus on the trees when you’re standing pretty much naked—although he’s not sure to what extent—in front of him. You could be entirely naked right now and he wouldn’t be able to tell, his burning face still hidden in his shaking hands. His voice comes out muffled when he stammers, “I-It’s starting to get late, we really should get back to the car…”

“What, you’re scared of the bears?”

He can’t see you, but he knows you’re sporting that smug grin of yours, the one he first saw when you showed him your impressive collection of Pokémon cards on your preschool’s playground. You’ll have to take a lingering silence for an answer.

“Izuku, come on. I don’t bite.”

He’s not entirely sure the sight of you won’t gnaw him to the bone, won’t melt his entire body down and leave him a hot mess. He won’t be a man anymore, just a walking flame fueled by the heavenly sight of you. No, he can’t let himself fall into that. Obviously you don’t know what you’re doing to him.

Nevertheless, you’re probably the most stubborn person he knows. And he’s friends with Katsuki Bakugou, for God’s sake. He won’t be able to get out of this as easily as he wants, especially as he hears the delicate noise of water splitting at your feet as you enter the little pond.

He slowly moves his hands off of his face. You must have your back turned to him, so maybe he can drift his eyes off somewhere—

You are in front of him, thigh deep in the water now. In nothing but your panties. Your white, flower-patterned lace panties that are doing a very bad job at covering your backside. He lets out a long, pained whine, standing in the middle of the little shore with his arms dangling down his sides, not sure what to do with them.

“Why didn’t you at least keep your bra on?” His voice comes out way more wobbly than he intended to.

You turn a little so you can look at him, and it takes every little bit of strength he’s got left to look you in the eye. But as you’re turning around, the smooth curve of your breast starts showing, and God, is that your nipple?

He wants a giant hole to swallow him right now. He wants some forest creature to come for him right this instant, anything to keep him away from you, keep him from doing things he might regret. To punish him for having such thoughts about you, because you trust him, you’re so oblivious, so innocent, and he’s so weak against this inner monster that’s eating him away.

With a little frown, you deliver the answer like it’s self-evident as you kneel into the water, the surface just above your chest:

“I didn’t want it to get wet.”

“But you’re okay with your panties getting wet?”

The realization of what he just said is slow but surely comes. And when it does, he wishes even harder to get erased from the surface of this planet he’s already lucky enough to share with you. There is a long silence, and all he can hear for a few seconds are the birds chirping and the violent pounding of his heart against his ribcage, straining to get out.

You turn back around to look at him, dumbstruck. 

“I’m more than okay with that—”

“Please forget I just said that,” he cuts you off. He’s not sure he can bear to hear more of this.

“I’m never forgetting you said that. It’s pure gold,” you scoff.

He can only answer with a drawn-out whine. He doesn’t have any choice in this, does he?

When you dive in the water, he takes both his shaking hands to the hem of his shirt and starts undressing.

What the fuck am I doing?

The water is so pure you can see underwater as clear as day: the few rocks at the bottom, the little silvery fish all around you, and the last rays of sunlight permeating through the calm surface above your head. The water feels a bit cold on your naked skin since the sunlight and summer heat must only hit the clearing at certain hours of the day. Still, the cold water isn’t enough to clear your foggy mind.

What was I thinking?

You’ve always been a bashful person, why is it changing all of a sudden? Maybe it’s the devastating effect Izuku has on you.

You try to calm down a bit, taking a deep breath. So, you’re pretty much naked in front of him. Well, it definitely wouldn’t be the first time, and it (probably) won’t be the last. Now you just have to go through with your stupid idea. It’s no big deal, it’s only Izuku. Only Izuku.

Only Izuku.

Fuck.

You finally surface, not only because you can’t hide underwater forever, but also because, surprisingly, you’re not a fish, you have to actually breathe.

You push your dripping hair to the back of your head, still careful to keep your breasts under the water. Izuku’s already in to his hips when you turn around to look at him, your vision still blurry from the water trickling all over your face. He’s merciless, standing like that, only the elastic of his boxers peeking out of the water. You’re a bit surprised by the plain, black color. You were expecting something along the lines of blue, yellow and red. Izuku is full of surprises.

But nevermind the color of his underwear—what you find just above is mesmerizing. Your indiscreet, incorrigible gaze can’t help following the thin trail of hair tracing up to his navel, then the stunning lines of his abs, partly hidden behind his freckled forearms shyly crossed over them. The freckles spread up his powerful arms, gently sunkissed, scattering all over his broad shoulders.

Is he actually hiding, though? Doesn’t he know he looks like he was carved by the gods themselves?

“Have you done this before?”

The sound of his voice startles you a bit. Ah, right. You were shamelessly staring. It takes you a couple of seconds to force your distracted mind back into focus. “Done what?”

“Skinny dipping?”

“No, it’s my first time. It looks like it’s yours too.” His big, bright eyes drift around like they don’t know where to look. It’s really cute.

“It is,” he admits, now kneeling into the water as well. “I would’ve thought you were used to this.” You arch a single eyebrow in an amused frown.

“What, do I look like I have a professional degree in skinny dipping?”

“No, it’s just…You look confident, it just seemed like it.”

Confident? You’re nowhere near confident—you’re terrified. You try to keep your cool, but it’s probably the first time you’re putting on an act in front of Izuku.

“Well, you’re not so bad at it yourself.” You don’t miss the little blush coating his cheeks at that. “Also, I’m not exactly naked.”

“You’re not exactly dressed either, that’s a...v-very small piece of clothing.” He’s blushing a bit harder, looking away.

“Oh, seems like you paid some attention to my piece of clothing then, good to know.”

Now he’s quite simply scarlet. A very cute, very hot, freckled tomato. He’s so easily flustered, it only makes you want to tease him some more.

“Were your legendary All Might boxers in the dirty hamper? That’s a shame. I’m a bit disappointed,” you say in a mockingly innocent voice.

He doesn’t retort, simply stands there on his knees, shooting you an unreadable look and a little pout. After a few seconds, you open your mouth to continue, only to be startled by a strong splash hitting you in the face.

When you snap out of your shock, hair and face dripping all over your shoulders, you look up at him with what must be the scariest look of betrayal. Or the most ridiculous, apparently, since he starts laughing, louder and louder, and can’t seem to stop.

“Oh, you’re pretty pleased with yourself right now, aren’t you?” You can’t help but chuckle while talking, his laugh is so contagious.

“I am, yeah!” he manages to articulate, only starting to calm down.

As the calm of the forest returns, you watch his eyes go back to their usual round shape bit by bit, his face relaxing again. His smile causes butterflies to fly up and around in a whirlwind deep into your belly. You chuckle a bit at the feeling, almost embarrassed by how he’s making you feel like you’re in some dumb, cliche rom-com movie. On the outside, you must look a bit like a maniac, but he’s a nice guy, so he simply asks, “What is it?”

And before you can overthink yourself out of it, you’re hurling yourself at him. He barely has the chance to stutter a weak, “Wait!” before you’re putting all your weight on him, sinking his head deep in the water. Izuku may well be a nice guy, but you know he isn’t going to let you get away with this, so you’re not surprised when you’re dragged underwater by your legs. He lets go immediately, a bit abruptly, even, like it burnt his hands to touch you.

You both emerge from the water soon, and it takes you a second to get rid of the water blurring your vision, but then it hits you. How tantalizingly close you are to each other now, your bodies an inch away from touching. You’re both on your knees, enveloped in the coolness of crystal clear water and the reflections of the canopy of leaves above your heads. A spark of electricity makes you freeze on the spot; you’re so close to him your breasts slightly brush against his chest.

After a little eternity, you find the courage to look up at his face. He looks mindblowing, really. Despite the two decades you spent together, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen the pure, astonishing details of his freckles from this close. You would remember it, you definitely would. It’s a spectacular view, one of those visual memories that comes back to hit you in flashes. His nose and cheekbones are covered in them, drawing a mesmerizing pattern, more complex than the Milky Way itself. They’re an uncrackable equation, like a weird quirk of nature that you’ll never understand but don’t question anyway. They spread a little more scattered, but still very present, up to his forehead and down to his delicate jaw.

And his eyes—you could just drown in them. There’s this bright, blinding light there that feels like laying in the grass and looking up at the sunlight coating the leaves of this tree, the one you grew up near and always played under.

You swear you didn’t move, neither did he, and still you manage to get even closer to him. Now it’s you against the inexorable attraction that pulls you towards him like a fierce magnet. And it’s a losing battle, you think, as you’re both entering each other’s personal space like you share just one.

There’s nothing friendly about the way he can’t look you in the eye, seemingly too obsessed with your lips. You drop your gaze to his and find them calling for you. It’s been so long, now the thought of kissing Izuku seems unfamiliar despite being ever-present in your imagination for so many years. Like repeating a word so much it ends up becoming a series of meaningless sounds to your confused mind.

He’s the one who finally closes the distance, his lips landing on yours so softly you can barely feel them. He doesn’t move, simply content with the contact. You’re both eight years old again for a minute. The kiss feels like the little peck a kid would finally give to his crush in the middle of their school’s playground before running away to his friends.

Time seems to stop for God knows how long, and after what feels like no time and forever all at once, his lips move hesitantly against yours, bringing you back to reality. Right then, it all crashes on you like a tremendous wave. The distant echo of your mothers’ voices from the kitchen and the stupid cartoons they made you watch so they could talk for ten more minutes. The games alone together because no one wanted to play with you two weirdos. The piggyback rides, the dumb jokes, the video games (you always won). The neverending texting sessions at night because one of you couldn’t sleep. The fights that never lasted long enough to see the next sunrise because you both are way too weak for each other. All those stupid places that wouldn’t have looked half as breathtaking if it weren’t for him.

His lips are soft but roughly bitten. Hot and wet from the water and maybe from something else. He doesn’t taste like anything other than home, and that’s more than enough for you. His hands went up to cup your face at some point, but you’re too drowned in all the feelings coming up to the surface to pay attention to anything other than his soft mouth pressing on yours, more and more, opening up—

And it’s already over. You only notice that you’ve closed your eyes when you open them again when you don’t feel anything against your mouth other than the summer air. When your mind manages to regain any sense of function, the blurry focus of your gaze settles on his eyes. Wide open. Pupils eating up the dazzling viridian that puts the forest to shame. And a terrified expression in them.

He’s looking at you like he hurt you. His lips should still be on yours, kissing and sucking, not frozen like they are right now, obviously trying to express something painful as a few weak sounds pass their barrier before he finally manages to speak:

“Oh—Oh my God, I-I’m s—”

You don’t let him finish his stupid sentence. You don’t think twice before you take his face in your hands and lean in to kiss him again, with shameless intent this time. No more pretending—you’ve been waiting long enough for this and apparently, so has he.

It’s nothing gentle this time when your mouths crash against each other, teeth clashing and lips bruising under the weight of twenty years. You hold to his face like a lifeline, fingers sinking just a bit into his cheekbones, the tip of your nails getting caught in the knots of his dripping hair just above his ears. It’s messy, your noses rubbing before he angles his face better. One of his hands loops around your waist in a tight grip, forcing your chest to crush against his, the other burying in your hair at the base of your skull.

The feeling is electrifying, indescribable. It’s nothing like the pale, miserable depiction of your imagination. It’s discovering life in color when all you’ve always known was black and white.

The water is cool, but his body scorches against yours, burns your skin in the most exquisite way. The kiss is desperate on both parts, but neither of you is confident. His lips suck on yours with tentative motions, and you respond in kind the best you can. They are hungry, starving for flesh but don’t know how to hunt.

Your hands are gripping more and more of his hair, pulling harder, sending waves of heat all the way down his groin, and he’s not sure he can hide the bulge growing there for much longer.

He has to be sure, he has to be absolutely certain you want this as much as he does, because once he starts, he may not be able to stop. But you feel so good, all pressed against him. Your skin feels so soft under his hand at the small of your back he has to dig his nails in the skin of your waist so he doesn’t cross a line. But the curve just above your ass is begging for him to grip at the tender flesh and squeeze, fill his hands with it. He’s been dreaming about this for so long.

No, he can’t just hurl himself at you like a hunting wolf the first chance he gets—what kind of friend does that?

It takes him every bit of focus he has left to break the kiss, to part away from you. You have to discuss this, he can’t just throw away twenty years of friendship! Now you’re looking up at him with puppy eyes saying, ‘Why won’t you play with me?’ He breathes out a shaky sigh, and begins:

“Um, look. Believe me when I say I’ve wanted this for a very, very long time, and I love you so, so much. As a friend, I mean.” He sees you frown at this, catches a glint of something he doesn’t like in your eyes, then panics. “No, no, no, I mean, a-as a friend, but also more than that, o-obviously. But I don’t know what you want, you might be...d-disappointed, or...um—” His face starts heating up like it hasn’t in ages. He takes another breath, tries to clear up the muddled mess happening in his head. “Look, I just want the best for you, but you look...good, very good, and you’re making things very difficult for me, doing...this—”

“Izuku.” The deafening hubbub filling his mind falls suddenly silent, your voice a comforting, steady rock for him to cling to when his mind is storming out of control.

“Yeah?”

You get even closer to him, since he gradually set some distance while mumbling his anxious thoughts out again. You cup his face in your hands, a gentle, featherlight touch, and look up at him with determination in your eyes. You pull his head down a bit to settle on yours, your foreheads and noses connected, never breaking eye contact. Your lips graze over his, both your breaths mixing there, your voice a quiet whisper as you speak again. “Do you want me?”

Out of the jittery mess of his mind, the answer comes out like evidence, plain and simple: “Yes.”

“Then shut up and kiss me.”

You take action immediately, kissing him once again and this time he doesn’t hesitate to put his—still rather shaky—hands on you. The feeling of you is addicting, pushing his insecurities further in the back of his mind. He starts at your waist, running his thumbs there, feeling the goosebumps rising on your skin. They wander up your spine, counting every single bump of your bones, all the way to your nape. Then dragging them back down to settle on your hips, his fingers digging in the soft flesh. The little sigh you breathe on his lips causes an impressive amount of blood to run straight to his dick. 

Your mouth is distracting, dizzying, sucking on his bottom lip, nipping playfully. His tongue slides over your lips, then against your own when you open up immediately for him. You’re pressing against him even more, your breasts rubbing against his naked chest and he swears you’re going to be the death of him. You’re hanging from his shoulders by now, your arms circling his neck, still gripping a handful of green hair, pulling. You have to stop doing this—he might cum right away. He doesn’t say it aloud, only lets a moan escape him into your mouth.

He wanted this, wanted this for so long, and now that it’s real, it’s beyond everything he could have imagined. The heat of your skin, the weight on his shoulders as you cling to him, your breath in his mouth, your little sighs.

He’s only now noticing that his hands have gone to reach their destination with a mind of their own. They’re on your ass underwater, feeling the white, wet lace, the sole cloth on your entire body—that thing is just there to tempt him. He’s unsure if you like what he’s doing until you release a whimper, louder this time, enough to send a vibration against his mouth (and straight to his cock at the same time).

Suddenly, he wants to taste a lot more of you. You’re all open up to him for the first time—he has to. He trails a series of open-mouthed kisses from the corner of your mouth to your jaw, savoring every little sigh escaping your lips, then to your neck, dragging his tongue up the column of your throat.

The water is fresh all over you, and he doesn’t miss the shivers running up and down your skin at the contact of the twilight breeze. He needs to warm you up, needs to make you feel good, needs everything to be perfect for you. With his hands still on your ass, he trails lower down to your collarbone, allowing some occasional nips on the way that have you shaking. He freezes, looking up at you from there.

“Is this okay?”

The answer comes out breathy, a little desperate: “Yes, yes, please!” It sends a wave of heat all over him, the way you like what he’s doing to you, the way he’s making you feel good.

He’s not experienced or anything, only had a few hookups a couple of times, so he’s not very confident in his capacities, aside from running his hands all over you because that’s how his instincts are manifesting. You know him better than anyone—of course you would know how lost he could be in this kind of situation. But he also knows you’re not much more experienced than him, and that thought is comforting.

He’s experienced in one thing, though. He feels like the worst, filthiest person on the planet for this, but it’s astonishing the number of times he jerked off to the thought of what’s happening right now. How many times did he fuck his hand in the shower thinking about the water trickling down your skin, about licking it off your breasts all the way up to your neck.

So he does what he’s been dying to do for years. your breasts are just above the surface, so he sits on his heels and licks down your chest. When his tongue finally reaches your nipple, giving it a tentative lick, you let out a gasp, encouraging him to get bolder. And he does, closing his mouth on it like it’s the sweetest lollipop; it’s all cold and hard and raised from the water, but it warms up really quickly against the furnace of his mouth. His right hand leaves your ass to cup the neglected other, running his thumb against the bud, squeezing the flesh. That’s when you reach out to bury a hand in his hair, and pull again. God, you can pull on his hair all day and night like this; he’ll never get enough.

His left hand, still on your ass, rises up to the small of your back, feeling you arching more and more, pushing against his mouth. A harder nip has you gasping and he lets his hands run all over you, wandering without direction. It’s messy and urgent; he can’t help it—you feel so good, so soft under his hands. He’s like a kid getting to open his Christmas gifts in the morning after an endless, sleepless night waiting for Santa.

You trail your hand down his chest and his abdomen, a gentle reminder that the power he holds right now could slip through his fingers any moment. He’s willing to give it to you, especially since he doesn’t really know what to do next.

Like you just read his mind, you take his hands in yours, stopping their chaotic race. He’s feeling himself flush a bit—was he going too fast for you? Did he scare you? Or did he just let himself become overwhelmed by his feelings and it didn’t feel good for you? His eyes are looking down directly at your naked chest, he realizes he never took a proper look at them, too busy throwing himself to taste them. They look just as good as they taste, as beautiful as the rest of you.

Tentatively, he raises his eyes to find your reassuring gaze and fond smile. You lead his hands down slowly, setting them on your hips, over the criminal lace fabric preserving your modesty. Your foreheads connect again, but you never break eye contact. Lacing your fingers together, you guide his thumbs into the elastic on both sides, and now that he gets what you’re trying to do, his mind just stops.

Your voice is barely a whisper, a mesmerizing caress on his lips when you speak again. “I think I’ve waited long enough, Zuku.”

Your tone is fond, but you sound so desperate, it’s unbearably cute. His mind fogs up, the smoke of your words filling his skull and he wants to drive you as mad as you drive him. Sure, you’ve waited a lot, but so has he. He isn’t going to rush this, not if he has any say in it.

He slides your panties down your thighs underwater inch by inch. It’s even too slow for him; right now he just wants to rip the stupid piece of lace off of you and fuck you and him both stupid in the water, hard and fast. But even more than that, he wants to take his time with you, wants to take you apart piece by piece. And the testy whine it elicits from you makes it all so worth it.

You shift a bit so he can take your underwear completely off and, in a second, it lays abandoned on the sandy ground of the shore. Just knowing you’re now completely naked in front of him, it sends boiling desire flowing through every single vein in his body. He can’t see that part of you yet, the water darkening along with the sky clouding his view beneath the surface, but nightfall can’t do anything about Izuku’s wild imagination. He’s dizzy, feeling himself slowly falling into a half-conscious daze, but you anchor him right where you are, bringing him back to the reality of your arms hooked around his neck.

He rests his hands on your hips, dragging his fingertips down the soft flesh of them. The idea of touching you down there is making his head spin, he can’t wait any longer.

“Can I—”

“Yes, I want your fingers inside me,” you say before driving your lips back against his.

Without further ado, one of them goes straight to your core, making you jump a bit, breaking the kiss just for a second. He runs his index between your folds, feeling hot slick already coming out of you despite the fresh water around. His touch is light, slow, hesitant as it glides up and down, testing the waters. He’s getting a bit further, putting a bit more pressure with every stroke and earning a few pleased sighs from your heavenly mouth.

He expected a sudden reaction as soon as he found your clit, but that doesn’t mean he was prepared for the drawn-out moan coming out of your gorgeous lips, wet from his mouth and from your dip earlier. He wants to hear that again, every day for the rest of his life. He drags his thumb over it, again and again, slow at first, but then quicker and quicker, and your voice grows louder with every speed-up of his finger.

Your hands go frantic over him, running up his chest and down his abs in repeated motions that feel a lot like it’s lust driving your limbs much more than your mind. You stopped kissing him at some point, your mouth too busy expressing every ounce of pleasure you felt to focus on such basic motions. Your face is buried in his neck, your hot breath crushing against his skin.

He presses his index inside, but he’s so focused on what he’s doing, trying not to hurt you, that he doesn’t notice the shift of your own hand leaning down until he feels it cupping the painful bulge in his boxers. His eyes go wide with a gasp, and when he looks at you, you already have a playful, but intense, gaze piercing right through him.

“Did you think I was gonna let you play all on your own, Zuku?” Your fingers graze over the soaked fabric, down his entire length and to his balls, throwing gasoline on the fire that’s been consuming him for ages. “Don’t be selfish,” you whisper directly in his ear as your hands slip his underwear down his thighs.

As soon as the piece of cloth gets to join your forgotten panties on the shore, you wrap your pretty hand around him. And when you start stroking, his eyes roll so hard he swears he can see the inside of his skull. It feels better than he ever could have imagined; it’s blistering, astonishing. The only idea his brain can manage to work out right now is that he wants you to feel just as good.

He only notices now that his fingers stopped moving, and they go right back to a steady pace, but it’s a matter of seconds before he drives another finger into you. Soon, you’re both fucking the life out of each other with your hands. You’re sucking and nipping at his ear, and every single moan he draws out of you ends up turning against him, breaking into the defenses he built year after year by your side. He’s simply fucking into your hand now. He can’t help it, you feel so good. He doesn’t even want to think about what it’s going to feel like to fuck into your tight little cunt, he might cum hard just from the thought of it.

The spongy spot he finds inside you feels like he just struck gold. It’s glorious, the sounds you make right now, higher, louder. You’re tightening around his fingers, but it’s okay—you can crush them for all he cares. He wants you to moan higher for him, wants you to keep riding his fingers like your life depends on it.

“Izuku, ah—I’m close, I’m so close, please…”

“I got you, baby. I got you, shit—”

He quickens the pace again, feels like his fingers are gonna fall off his hand the moment he gets them out of you, but fuck, what his princess wants, his princess is gonna get. Your orgasms shatter the both of you to pieces, and in the bliss of his high, he can hear some birds flying away, scared by the harmonious, but probably very loud, song of your combined moans.

While his cum strikes out by ropes into the water, his clouded mind can only think about one thing.

He needs more of you.

You can barely stand on your knees, worn out from cumming the hardest you have in your entire life. You actually have to lean on Izuku so you don’t fall into the water head first like some boneless ragdoll. You just let your forehead rest on his shoulder and count the freckles there, splattered in a fascinating work of abstraction.

But apparently, he has other plans. You’re swiftly lifted up and out of the water, huge scarred hands firmly holding the back of your thighs that immediately come to circle his waist.

“Oh, nice. I don’t mind getting carried around like a baby. Where are we going?”

“Not far,” he says with a little grin, walking out of the water. “Do you think you’ll be able to walk?” His voice holds a sarcastic tone, one you’re not used to hearing out of Izuku’s angel mouth.

“I think I can manage, yeah.”

He drops you to stand on your legs, and immediately goes for his backpack. The sun has just set, its last rays of light filling the pink sky over your heads. You can still easily make out everything around you, and Izuku’s body is no exception.

You’re watching him with a raised eyebrow, letting your shameless gaze follow every curve you couldn’t see underwater. The day he started exercising in high school was the day you knew it was over for you. It was the day you couldn’t deny what you felt anymore, you couldn’t deny your best friend was everything you needed, and everything you wished for. The physical factor was only a—very pleasant— addition to the list of things that made you fall hard for Izuku Midoriya.

Your eyes linger over his impressive figure, staring at the dimples at the small of his back. You always knew they were here, but you never allowed yourself to look at them, to imagine how they would grow repeatedly hollow with every thrust of his hips into you.

He finally digs out what he was looking for: a plaid picnic blanket, because of course he would have one in there. He’s wearing a little victorious smile when he stands and turns around to spread it on a grassy spot that looks a lot more comfortable than the hard ground. He turns back to you but averts his gaze to the side, hardly looking directly at you for more than a second at a time. The heat of his gaze tracing your curves through quick glances pools deep in your core. 

“You know you can look, right?” You sure aren’t refraining from doing so after all.

His face reaches its usual redness—hasn’t he learned anything from making you cum like crazy with just his fingers? It’s cute nonetheless; Izuku will never change.

He doesn’t answer your rhetorical question, only gives you a shy command in that tentative, very cute voice of his.

“Could you lay down on this for me?”

You saw this coming, but still, you’re a bit surprised he’s asking you that out loud. You gladly oblige with your legs pressed together, slightly bent. It’s another golden opportunity to tease him a bit:. “This isn’t exactly the right use for this blanket. Aren’t we supposed to eat on this?”

He smiles at the ground while kneeling at your feet.

“Maybe that’s exactly what I’m planning to do.”

Your sly smile fades away. His tone is a contradictory mix of shyness and determination, so it’s a bit confusing but also unbearably hot—you swear an astounding wave of heat is crashing through your deepest parts, untouched, just from some words and a funny tone. You rub your thighs together before he grabs and parts them to slip himself between them.

He crawls over you and leans down to kiss you, a bit more confident than earlier. His hips are pressing between your legs, where you can feel his hardness best.

He’s rutting more and more against you as the kiss intensifies. You could think it’d be a lot less exciting now that you know he’s going to eat you out, there’d be no suspense. Wrong. The little shit apparently likes to tease you to death, because he left your lips to kiss your face, nip at your neck, suck at your ears. Dragging his devilish hands everywhere, pressing harder each time you get louder. An especially heavy whine makes him buck hard, his mouth back against yours.

“The more impatient you get, the slower it’s gonna be,” he murmurs against your lips, and starts to make his way down to where you want him, kissing every inch of you, clouding your mind with desire. It’s way too much and still not enough; it’s maddening. When he finally reaches down, you’re on the verge of a second orgasm like you hadn’t just come down a few minutes ago.

He’s holding your thighs apart in a firm grip. Just the touch of his fingers burns your skin deliciously, and the look he’s giving you from between your legs...his eyes are clouded, half-lidded, looking at the part of you he’s never gotten to see before. It feels like he’s been looking forever and just a second at the same time.

He finally dips into you, leaving butterfly kisses all over your inner thighs, punctuated by little nips, nuzzling the soft skin. He’s not looking you in the eye anymore, his gaze lingering all over your body—all over except for your face. You can make out a slight blush on his cheeks despite the dimness all around. You know him better than anyone, so you immediately recognize what’s going on in his mind just from the slightest hint in his eyes. He looks like he’s fighting a battle against himself, his shyness against his hunger. And you know who you’re both rooting for.

He finally gives in, and it takes your breath away. A single, slight lick on your clit and you’re gone. And the next ones, more and more intense, more and more hungry, push you further to tumble over your edge. He grunts into your heat, multiple times. Moans like he’s the one squirming under your mouth.

His hands hold a firm grip on your hips, squeezing the flesh and keeping you in place—he doesn’t even give you an inch to move. You can only take and take and take. But you still have the luxury of your free hands, and they rush to bury in the knots of his messy wet curls, your nails dragging, scratching his scalp.

His lips close on your clit and suck just a bit, and before you can refrain, you pull on his hair, hard. He gasps, and the moment you think you hurt him, he breathes his loudest moan, right into you. You’re filled with the vibrations—they spread all over your body, have you throwing your head back, trembling from head to toe.

The louder you are, the hungrier he gets, filling you with his insatiable tongue. You have to look at him right now. And you expected quite a show, but you certainly weren't prepared to see this—him rutting against the ground like an animal. You realize he’s getting off just from your taste, just from eating you out. His hips roll repeatedly, making you salivate just to the thought of those same hips bucking into yours, fucking you into oblivion. And the more he ruts, the louder he gets.

Now if he wants to moan, you’re going to give him a good reason to. 

You hint for him to face you with a light tug on his hair. As soon as he’s back up, he dives in to kiss you. You don’t let him. In a second he’s on his back with you seated on his hips.

“What did I say about letting you play on your own, hm?”

The ‘deer caught in headlights’ look is so cute on him. And the rest is a marvel to look at. You’re straddling him and he has no other choice than to let you devour him with your eyes—not that he couldn’t bounce you off of him with just a thrust of his hips, but he already would have if he wanted to. You let your gaze wander mindlessly over him—it’s surreal. There’s no way he’s actually under you, waiting for you to please him back with his mouth and jaw still shining with your juices. It has to be a dream—it’s always been after all.

You shift so you’re straddling his parted thighs. You can finally take a look at him. The whole thing, that is. His cock is resting against his lower stomach, hard and swollen and thick. It’s a pretty, bright pink, shining with pre-cum at the tip. Your mouth waters just at the sight of it.

He’s looking down at you, his face as flushed as his dick, that usual blush still exquisitely coating his freckles. You take him in your hand, dive in to give a lick to the tip and his head falls back down with a whimper. You let your tongue drag over the whole length on the underside, and your lips close around the tip in a wet smooch. His hips jerk up a bit, startling you.

You finally take him whole in your mouth, and you can feel his whole body tensing under you. You start bobbing up and down, going a bit further each time, earning a series of shameless moans because this boy is loud. You expected him to express himself during sex since he’s such a mumbler—and frankly, it was always one of your biggest fantasies, hearing him come undone because of you, lose any sense of shame and self-restriction when he’s such a anxious person otherwise.

But you could’ve thought about it every night and day and still never be ready for this. It’s sinful. His hand goes to grab your hair just like you did to him, and now you get why he liked it so much. The feel of his nails scratching your scalp is electrifying, soothing and destructive at the same time.

Your tongue hits a precise spot just under the tip and he jerks up again, nearly screams, “Fuck—yes, right there, please—d-do that again!”

And you do, you can only oblige—he asked so nicely. Your lips go up and down, over and over, your tongue grazing this spot with a bit more pressure every single time. You squint over him, and what you find there is a mess. Trying so hard not to buck into your mouth but failing miserably. Sounding like he’s at Heaven’s gate.

“Easy, Zuku. You’re gonna scare the birds away,” you chuckle against him, your lips brushing the tip, dripping with your saliva and pre-cum.

“Do I need to remind you…how loud you were for me earlier?” He’s looking back down at you as he speaks, a tremble in his voice telltale of his approaching climax. “You sounded...so good, baby, I swear...wanna hear you again, wanna make you scream, just for me, fuck—”

You can feel yourself soaking the blanket, can feel the slick trickle down your folds and stain the plaid cotton. Is he aware of what he’s doing? Or is he just saying whatever is going through his chaotic mind? In any case it has you starving. So you let go of his cock and, before he can protest, crawl back to his face and kiss him desperately. Tasting both of your fluids in a mindblowing mix.

You pull back just enough to be able to speak, because you need him to understand you loud and clear when you say:  “Please, Izuku, I need you inside me, I’ve waited so long. Please.”

“Okay, okay, fuck—” He cuts himself off, his eyes slightly drooping like a sad puppy. “I-I don’t have any condoms.”

“You mean you probably have pads in there for me but no condoms?” you say with your eyebrows raised, your mocking tone hinting at a teasing remark, far from criticism.

He frowns in confusion. “How do you know I have pads in there?”

“So the legend turns out to be true. After all these years—”

“Shut up, you’re impossible,” he chuckles heatlessly, resting his hands on your back.

“It’s okay. I’m on the pill,” you assure him with a soft tone.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m on the pill, yeah.”

He rolls his eyes, then clarifies, a hint of hesitation clear in his voice.

“No I mean...you’re sure you wanna do this?” He marks a brief pause, takes a short breath. “With me?”

You don’t even think before answering, it slips your mouth like it’s not even your own words: “I don’t want it with anyone else.”

There’s a silence.

“Fuck, that sounds cheesy,” you scoff, looking away.

“It does, but we’re both cheesy idiots, apparently.”

You look back at him. His smile is so fond, so loving; it melts your heart in the best way.

“I wanna be your cheesy idiot,” you say against his mouth, looking right into his eyes, willing to fall in them.

“You always have been,” he nearly whispers. It fills your stomach with familiar warmth, intense and overwhelming, comforting.

There’s a bittersweet taste in your mouth, one of regret and lost time and God, we’re idiots.

Now it’s about time you make up for it all.

You look down at him, rolling your hips against him, dripping all over his cock, coating him in your juices.

“I think I asked you something, didn’t I?”

A whimper escapes him at the feeling. His hips buck up slightly, hands gripping at your back. When you do it again, you don’t get the chance to see his reaction; you’re on your back again, him towering over you, his thigh between your legs.

He’s looking at you with something in his eyes you don’t recognize, but the tone he speaks with has your entire body quaking.

“And you’re gonna get it, sweetheart.”

He holds himself over his left forearm, his hand thumbing at your cheek while the other strokes the whole length of your thigh. Your noses are brushing, your breaths crashing together. Your hands hold tight to his nape, playing with the short hair mindlessly as you’re waiting to be filled, finally.

You feel the stretch instantly. You try to focus on those mesmerizing emerald gems he calls eyes. They look right through your soul, eating you up and you barely feel the pain. He’s taking it slow, inch by inch, giving you all the time you need, caressing your cheek with a tender stroke of his thumb.

“Relax for me, baby.”

Izuku’s voice is a soothing sound over the incessant chirping of the grasshoppers. It was always one of your favorite things to hear, its every tone another blessing to your ears. It’s loving when he asks if you’re okay, comforting when he whispers sweet nothings to you as you cry on his shoulder, heartening when he’s going on about anything he’s passionate about.

He’s kissing every part of skin he has access to, over your face, your jaw, your neck. You feel yourself relaxing around him, and roll your hips up to give him the hint.

When he starts moving it’s still slow and careful. He doesn’t break eye contact, so you can see his every reaction, and he can see all yours. His hand is still playing with your hair, even as his pace speeds up with every second. The weight of him over you feels amazing, it holds him close against you, countless parts of you both rubbing together: your chests, your stomachs, your thighs. He doesn’t even have a lot of space to move. But getting to touch and get touched by him like this, it's incredible. You always had him so close to you, always right there and still so out of reach.

You still need more; you’re insatiable. You need to see him come undone under you, because of you. You push him to roll on his back, and you end up straddling him, setting the pace yourself. You start bouncing up and down on his cock, taking balance on the hard planes of his abs. He immediately reaches up to grab your hips, guiding you along.

His face tenses up, frowning, his nose wrinkling, his lips parted just to let out a series of breathy sighs. He looks wrecked and dizzy and stunning. He’s keeping his eyes open, fixed up on you, specifically on your breasts, bouncing with your every motion. And you can feel his gaze on your skin just as much as you feel his hands gripping harder at the flesh below your hips.

“Eyes up here, Zuku,” you coo with two fingers pointed at your eyes.

He doesn’t answer, only sits up easily and wraps his arms around your waist.

“You look so amazing, you have no idea what you do to me,” he says with a trembling voice, filled with bliss.

Your heart misses a beat at his words, they fill you with warmth and comfort because he definitely doesn’t have any idea what he’s doing to you. He delves his face into your neck, kissing and nuzzling, his breath coming shorter and shorter, crashing against your skin and his hands running all over you. The sound of his hoarse voice resonates through the forest and through your soul, echoing an enchanting song.

With little effort, he puts you back under him so he can pound into you with full force, and your legs immediately come up to wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper. Your hands grab his hair, tugging to see if you get the same reaction as earlier, and it doesn’t miss: he lets out a groan right into your ear, speeding up his pace again.

The sky is dark now, and all you can hear are his moans and yours and the slap of your hips coming together repeatedly. Your head is thrown back when he grabs you by the hair, forcing you to turn your head and face him.

“Look at me. I wanna see you.”

“Izuku, I’m gonna—”

“I know, baby. Let go for me, come on.”

Just the feel of his hand trailing down your stomach awakens something in you, this familiar pressure growing tight in your belly. And when his fingers reach your clit, a couple of strokes are enough to have you screaming his name, tightening around him, and pulling him towards his climax with you. His thrusts come franticly as you milk him dry, clawing desperately at his back, panting in his mouth as he leaned down to kiss you through both your climaxes.

As soon as he comes down, he rolls over on his side, still laying close to you, an arm thrown over you. You both take a minute to catch your breaths and, weirdly enough, you don’t hear anything aside from your panting. You really must have scared the birds away. Izuku breaks the silence first.

“Do you wanna...sleep at my place?”

He’s looking over at you and, despite the sky getting dark, you can easily imagine the blush coating his cheeks right now, like he didn’t make you scream his name, drunk on his cock two minutes ago.

You can’t repress your fond smile at his proposition.

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

You take a minute to gather your clothes from all over the place and get dressed, then grab your bag to tug it over your shoulder.

“You got everything?”

Izuku is waiting for you just outside the trees. You take a quick look around, making sure you haven’t forgotten anything, and turn around without a second look at the place.

Because although it was your first time setting foot here, it definitely won’t be the last; you will come back here with Izuku every chance you get, making it your shared secret, your own little wonderland.

You gladly take the hand he’s offering, making him blush a little harder, and you head straight back into the forest together.

You walk side by side as a comfortable silence settles, only disturbed by the grasshoppers’ incessant, boisterous chirping. The sky is utterly dark now, you can make out a few stars shining above the dense trees. You walk at a steady pace, but Izuku is going a bit faster with every step. Soon enough, he’s walking a bit ahead of you, still holding your hand. Another golden occasion to tease his eagerness.

“Are we in a hurry, Zuku?”

In the dark of the night, you struggle to make out the look on his face as he turns around to look at you. A second later, he’s running, and with your hand firmly held in his, you can’t do much but try to follow along. You giggle as you run, and it quickly grows into a belly-deep laughter. He’s fast, doesn’t get tired, but you follow him anyway, probably as eager as he is. You have to zig-zag so you don’t run straight into the massive trees standing in your way.

You get to the car in no time, but you’re both out of breath when you finally get in your respective seats, ready to go home.

Izuku doesn’t even wait to catch his breath before he starts the car, the engine roaring loudly in the silence of the night, probably scaring the birds away for the upteenth time that night. You catch his happy grin in the headlights glow before he heads back into the road.

You have a feeling the night is not over; you’ve only got twenty years to make up for after all.

[camaro-and-smokes]

Royalty - The Love of My Life PT 8

Rating: Mature Warnings: no warnings Characters: Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington Tags: fluff, angst, boys kissing Words: 2675 which is too much to tumblr - this part is fully available only on AO3!

Read all chapters on tumblr >>

Read on AO3 >>

Summary: Billy and Steve finally get some unlimited quality time together

::::: Snippet below :::::

After opening his window ajar, Steve snuggled back under Billy's arm, taking the smoke from his lips and taking a drag.

“Guess what,” he said excitedly.

“What?”

“My parents have a trip coming. They’re going to be away for a week. That means…”

“It means…what?” Billy asked when he got his smoke back.

“That I have the house all to myself.”

“You’re shitting me, aren’t you?”

“No. You and me, here, alone, for one week,” Steve said and trailed his hand on Billy’s stomach.

“So, we’re able to fuck all night long and not be on the fucking clock on it?” Billy smirked and licked his lower lip.

Steve smiled and kissed Billy's neck, biting it lightly, making Billy let out a sigh. “If that’s what you want, babe.”

“When?” Billy asked as he stubbed the smoke to the ashtray on Steve's nightstand.

“Three weeks from now.”

Billy sighed. “It’s going to be three long weeks,” he said.

“Yeah, it is,” Steve whispered.

Billy glanced at Steve’s alarm clock. ”I should go,” he groaned and got up.

“OK,” Steve said. He watched Billy bending purposely down, his back to Steve, to pick up his jeans from the floor so that Steve couldn't miss his well-toned buttocks.

”I don’t know if I can make whole week work. Neil…” Billy's voice trailed off. “But I think I can make at least one or two full nights work, if I say about it to him early enough,” he said as he put his shirt on. ”And if I promise to drive Max around as usual.”

Steve smiled a sad smile. "I wish we could see each other like normal people even without something special like this."

"I know," Billy replied and came back to the bed and sat next to Steve. "It’s so fucked up. I want to go out with you and do things. Just go to the movies, it wouldn't have to be anything special. Do things with you people do when they're dating."

"So we're dating?" Steve asked.

They hadn't talked about it before. About whatever the thing they had was. It had been four months, but usually they were more and less quick meetings max few times a week, in the night, they required planning, sneaking around and trying to avoid their cars being seen in wrong places. It hardly could be described as dating, not at least in any conventional way.

"I thought we were. Right?"

"Oh, yeah," Steve said and looked at his hands. "I just…you're right. This isn't any dating I've done before either. It bugs me too."

"Steve? You better not say…"

"Hey, I'm not saying anything like that," Steve took Billy's hand and kissed it, knowing how fast Billy’s abandonment issues surfaced. "I'm serious about us, babe. I want you to come here and stay with me here as many days and nights as you can without getting into trouble. OK? Even though we can't go anywhere, we can be together, order pizza, watch films, right? I just want to be with you," Steve said, pulling Billy into a kiss. "Babe, you're beautiful. And you're mine," he whispered, making Billy smile.

Three weeks later Steve's parents had stocked up the fridge and freezer with food so that Steve practically didn't have to leave the house for days unless he wanted to. Which was perfect. They even took their own car to the airport, which meant that the garage was empty and ready to have the Camaro parked there, hiding it from prying eyes.

When Billy finally drove to the driveway on Friday evening, Steve opened the garage door from inside.

“Hey babe,” Steve said as he opened the driver's door when Billy had turned the car off.

As Billy got out, he smiled his most gorgeous smile, and made Steve feel weak in the knees.

“Hey,” Billy said and leaned to kiss Steve over the door. “Let me get my bag.”

When Billy closed the trunk and walked to Steve, Steve handed him a small box.

“This is for you, babe,” Steve said smiling.

Billy looked at Steve curiously for a while. Then he put his bag on the floor and took the box. “Can I open it?”

“Sure.”

Billy examined the box from outside first. It didn’t have any markings on it, it had a separate lid and it fit right into his palm. He looked at Steve again. Then he opened the lid. Something in the box was covered with dark red wrapping tissue. A lump started to gather into his throat as he removed the tissue. It revealed a pair of long silver earrings with very stylish wing-like hanging decorations. His mouth opened agape, and butterflies flew in his stomach like never before.

“If it's too much…" Steve started when he saw the surprised expression on Billy's face.

"No, it's OK," Billy said, biting his lower lip nervously and raising his gaze back to Steve. He was surprised for sure, but not in a negative way. “They’re beautiful.”

“Hey, Billy, babe,” Steve said worried when Billy pursed his lips and looked away, blinking fast. By now Steve knew the action meant an emotion overpowering Billy’s ability to hold it inside. “Don't cry,” he said hugging Billy tight.

After a while of sniffling against Steve’s shoulder, Billy managed to form words again. “I love them.”

“I got them for you because I love you.”

Billy's head went blank. There they were, the three small words that he'd been waiting to hear for months now. He'd known almost from the very start how he felt, but in the bright fluorescent light of the garage, his beloved Camaro as their sole witness, hearing them from Steve was perfect.

“I was wondering if you'd ever say that.”

“Of course I would,” Steve replied and kissed Billy.

"I love you too," Billy whispered. “You light my darkness like nothing has ever done before."

“Oh babe,” Steve said and hugged Billy a bit tighter.

After hugging for a long while more, they got inside. Billy was about to take his jacket off in the hall when Steve stopped him, and took it off for him. He put it in a hanger and put it in the closet. Then he took Billy's hand and kissed his knuckles. ”I'm your humble servant while you're here, my love.”

Billy smiled, but gave Steve a punch on his shoulder, because fuck it adding to the earrings this wasn’t what he wanted to like even though it was exactly that. He still felt like it was wrong for him to not at least try to keep the manly man act up with Steve - despite melting inside each time Steve said something nice to him.

“Ouch!” Steve said but smiled. “OK, just…feel free to punch me every time I get too mushy for your taste.”

Billy felt his cheeks burning, revealing how he really felt. “Fuck you Harrington,” he said smiling. He’d wanted to be so close to Steve for so long, and now, finally, they were able to be together more freely than ever before. Everything felt so good now that he thought he was going to burst.

”I made us dinner,” Steve said and took Billy's hand.

Read the full chapter on AO3 (too many words for tumblr 🙄)

[obeymeluv]

You Steal the Boys’ Clothes

Something I’ve been thinking of for a while.

Lucifer

It was rare the eldest was without his cape, as everything seemed to be a formal event and he must be dressed to impress. Being dressed to impress, however, means being clean so he gets it cleaned from time to time

Lucifer is a very organized, practical man. Constantly towing the line of obsessive for the sake of orderliness.

He knows where his cape should be, and that it’s not there

With a demon’s-only screech that warns Mammon to stretch his calves and run, Lucifer hunts down the three most likely suspects to interrogate them (Mammon, Satan, and Belphegor).

He tries to get a two-for-one by dragging Mammon into the study where Satan sits smugly with a book (because he knows he didn’t do it but MAN is he enjoying this!)

Imagine surprising not one, but THREE demons when you come shuffling down the hall with a Lucifer’s cape wrapped around you like a blanket.

It whispers and it drags and it absolutely DROWNS you.

Very charming. Ethereal, almost like some sort of wedding wear

Lucifer would’ve never imagined you’d be the culprit, and now his poor brain is trying to save and process the idea of you looking so sleepy-happy in his clothes

And the ex-angel falls all over again.

He catches the little cheek nuzzle and way you bunch it around your body, a foot poking out not to get tangled

Satan and Mammon will probably die laughing instead of at his hands, but Lucifer could really care less

Lucifer idly wonders where you’d curled up that he totally missed you, and escorts you gently but red-faced to your room

Satan and Mammon tag along, and when they see Lucifer come out with his cape they can only deduce he put you to bed.

Mammon

With no homework to do and some money in the bank, Mammon was ready to spend the weekend tearing up the town with you!

He was fresh out of the shower and mostly dressed, searching feverishly for his beloved white and brown jacket

Mammon wasn’t the cleanest person by nature (hello, money hoarder and collector of interesting/valuable things) so he tidied up as he went

As he started to suspect one of his little brothers was holding the jacket for ransom, he sent out a group text asking about it

There were several typical smart-ass responses (Lucifer, Asmo, and Satan) and he was in the middle of a snark fight when you showed up at his door somewhere between bashful and chill

In HIS jacket

Mammon’s brain shuts down.

HIS baby in HIS jacket? HELL YEAH! OH GOD, IT’S TOO PERFECT!

FIEND, TAKING HIS HEART!

“It’s kind of a human thing,” you explain. “There is a one-jacket fee among couples. Usually it’s a hoodie.” you tease, reluctant to shrug it off, “But this seems to be your only jacket so I guess I could give it back.”

It’s very subtle, but he’s worn that jacket for centuries and no amount of detergent can disguise the scent that makes his heart skip a beat

Something about the smell of your skin and a hint of his has him purring

You hold the jacket out to him. Mammon wraps his fingers around it and swings it around until he’s holding it over one shoulder

The yellow takes over in his eyes a little more. Gets a little brighter and intense.

“You want to take anything else off?” he husks playfully

Your day out turns into staying in and Mammon is happy to trade his jacket for a shirt you can sleep in (like, forever. It’s fine. Whatever, dummy.)

Leviathan

It was actually really hard to steal Levi’s clothes because he lived in his hoodie and turtleneck. His RAD uniform was really just for show and that wasn’t what you were looking for, anyways. You didn’t want to chill in uniform.

He was very particular about his merch because certain shirts were collector’s items and he didn’t like people messing with his folding patterns

You went to Asmo with your dilemma and he found it absolutely ADORABLE. It was almost enough to make him jealous, really

Somehow (Asmo being Asmo?), the fifth- born was able to swipe one of the green button-ups Levi wore under his RAD uniform

His first thought was to alter the garment to make it fit you (matching outfits? YES!) but Levi would probably kill him. His big bro hated shopping for clothes unless he HAD to have them.

Asmo gets the bright idea to magically/temporarily alter the fabric to fit you. Maybe Levi will like it so much he’ll just give you a shirt! 💖 (Or get some fucking outside time and go buy more shirts!)

Levi catches his own scent somewhere outside of the door and his brain goes off. He hits the pause button at lightning speed.

No one else smells like him! They haven’t shared bath products in centuries! He already finished his laundry so what’s happening?!

His first thought is: Mammon broke into my room while I was in the bathroom and stole something to pawn!

Levi doesn’t even think to take inventory of his stuff, barging out of his room to hunt down his big brother

He’s yelling and whining before he even sees him. Then he sees you. In his shirt.

All the angry words die in his throat as the absolute mortification and adoration sets his face on fire

SO KAWAII! It basically makes up for your normie-ness.

Levi’s stuck standing there, blushing his head off and unable to say anything as his fists shake with joy and nervousness

He gets a nosebleed. One of his brothers are laughing at him.

You guide him back to his room to take care of him, Levi lets you and becomes very fascinated with the idea of you in his clothes .Lots of petting and figuring out you look DOUBLY MEGA CUTE when the magic wears off and you’re just in a pool of fabric.

He’s totally down for matching clothes and definitely lets you keep the one you’re wearing.

Satan

His wardrobe is very...interesting...to say the least

Colors and personal combinations aside, Satan actually has a very smart wardrobe. Lots of basics and easy layers.

You can’t steal his signature green sweater or the blazer he seems to live in, so you settle for an emerald knit sweater that has a bit of a v-neck/university feel to it

It takes Satan a while to notice, as he’s buried in a book. You two tend to gravitate towards each other and just enjoy a cozy, companionable silence

He’s just finished a book and is debating cracking open one from the stack to his left when the color catches his eye

The smooth, sly comment dies on his lips when he realizes he likes the damn thing because IT’S HIS

You look very cozy and warm. It’s a very ‘cuddle me’ kind of look.

Perhaps you could warm his lap? Or give his poor hands a rest under the hem?

Very cheeky and clever. Grabs you by the sleeve of it just to ‘answer his curiosity about whether it matched his nails’.

Does he have a cute university student kink? If he didn’t, he does now?

There’s a 50-50 chance of you guys having sex.

Will definitely want to hold you and cuddle you close, petting the fabric and whispering compliments into it.

If you don’t already have a business/academic attire, Satan will definitely suggest a few pieces because YES. This is a thing he loves and it DOES things to him.

Asmodeus

He’s the type to let you think you stole something

Probably stages what he wants you to steal just so you take it

Honestly, I could just see him dumping some of his clothes on you because you’re dating now and this is a cute thing he read about!

It’s super likely he’s into couple outfits or coordinating outfits, so he’s either spent time in his closet pre-planning or asked you to try on a million things just because

This cutie pie purposely orders THE BIGGEST thing he can find so you can both fit in it at the same time

Asmo loves you to pieces no matter what, but seeing you in his clothes makes him squeal and hit a note Mammon has threatened to murder him over

Ever dramatic, this is like, THE BEST THING EVER

A MILLION Devilgram posts about it (safe ones, of course)

Do you guys spark a couple’s trend and spade of lover’s stealing each other’s clothes to snap a victory pic? Maybe

Probably fake faints at the sheer glory of you in HIS bomb ass clothes. Definitely fans himself

Spoils you rotten with compliments

This man is weak. “Gorgeous! Smother me.” as he falls back on the bed and gestures to his face

He won’t turn down the idea of sexy times (depends on your libido, comfort, etc.) but sometimes he makes raunchy jokes just to be funny. Smothering could also mean using him like a body pillow (which he’s totally okay with).

You get max cuddles and WILL be the envy of Devilgram

Beelzebub

Beel felt a little guilty for leaving you at the House of Lamentation with his brothers

You guys were supposed to hang out after school but there was an emergency practice. The coach always got pre-game jitters and demanded a few last runs. He showered and ran back to the House, hoping you still had time for him.

He tiptoed quietly into his shared room, unsurprised to find you waiting there for him. You’d been caught in Belphie’s sleepy little aura by the looks of it,

Beelzebub couldn’t help the grin or little hum that made it past his lips. Your eyes were open but he didn’t know if you actually saw him. You looked super cute in his humongous bed though

You were getting sleepier and sleepier, your eyelids getting heavier and heavier. Beel pulled the sheets over you and gentle untangled the arm you managed to latch on to

Maybe waking up to a bit of food would make up for everything! Beel toiled away in the kitchen, making a cute little snack tray for the two of you.

In reality, it could probably feed at least twenty, and he ate at least half of what he prepped.

Beel returned to the room with what he considered a decent amount (scraps, kind of, but enough variety! He tried! It’s the thought that counts!) and was surprised to see his sheets all tangled and half-kicked from the bed

You were wearing his jacket now, passed out and turned into the furry lining that usually went across his shoulders and neck

DId you sleep walk? He was trying to understand how you’d gotten into his jacket

Beel realized it was the first time you’d been in his clothes and it was enough to make his heart melt

Super huge on you, obviously (extra fabric everywhere), but so cute! He could basically swaddle you in his jacket

“They’re a restless sleeper,” Belphie yawned. “I thought it would help them calm down.”

It used to work on Belphie, so Beel could see why he resorted to it

Beel offered his twin some food, sitting carefully on your other side.

He shifted some of the parka fur away from your face, trying to fix your hair and nudge your chin up so your nose wasn’t buried in anything. He stroked your cheek a little, mesmerized by the sight of you and how you felt.

Belphie declined, muttering something about, ‘Stop looking like that and eat your food! Gross!’ before Beel settled for patting your head one last time and eating quietly

Belphegor

He’s another one that’s hard to steal from

You’d think it’d be easy since he sleeps all the time, but Belphie really only wears 10% of the clothes he buys

Yes, he’s a pajama snob and has all things comfy and cozy, but hardly any of them smell like him because he falls asleep anywhere with little issue (no special clothes required!)

You thought about stealing his blue cardigan with the pocket, but he’s always sleeping in it!

Belphie picks up on your train of thought, and the frustration, because you fall asleep thinking about it. Dreaming about coyly stealing his cardigan and being all cute and snuggly in bed

It’s enough to wake him up, shuffle to you, and break your sleep. He flops down on your bed with his cardigan unbuttoned and says ‘climb on’ while patting his chest

You’re obviously sleepy and confused and he loves it. Belphie slides you onto his chest and wraps his arms around you, resting bits of the fabric on your back as you settle into him

It’s not the same but it’s close enough

Would you be offended if he got you cow pajamas so he could snuggle you like his favorite pillow? He falls asleep wondering about the answer

He wakes up to see that Beel has covered the two of you with his favorite blanket.

You in his blanket? Against him? Slowly smelling of him and his clothes? It’s the best thing to fall asleep to.

Makes a joke out of your clothes-stealing quest by stripping one of his pillowcases off and putting you in it like a little sack. You have to stay on his bed now because you’re his pillow and all pillows stay on the bed.

“What? You wanted to smell like me! It’s something I use!“ Belphie defends as you wonder whether or not you like this human pillow thing while he snuggles you.