#i hope they are doing swell and that they know they have a staple on little apolo's childhood 😌

[apologetic-artist]

I feel like I'm the only one who remembers that one dhmis cosplay music video with the song "Break My Mind" in the background from years ago, I swear NO ONE knows what I'm talking about.

[euthymiya]

slowly, surely — ft. todoroki touya

touya’s body heals one day at a time, slowly but surely. he and his brother bridge the gap along the way, slowly but surely. you like to think maybe, there’s a good chance he’ll live a life outside of just dying now

before you read: fem reader ; chapter 426 spoilers ; established relationship ; post war ; touya lives and his body heals idc ; todoroki family dynamics ; fluff and healing

You never thought you’d meet his family.

Touya’s family files in every day through the door for weeks into his room after the war. You’re introduced to the people you never thought you’d formally meet in an unlikely circumstance.

It’s difficult at first. Touya can only speak for a few minutes at a time every day. You have to share the sparse, little time you have to see him with the rest of his family. But you suppose it’s not so bad. You get a glimpse of the kind of brother Touya could have been, a side him you never got to see.

He’s teasing—makes a well-timed slightly inappropriate joke at Natsuo’s expense regarding his wedding. The blush on his brother’s face and the chastising click of his mother’s teeth makes you smile a bit. He pretends to be bored when Fuyumi rambles about her new students, but he listens attentively—you know because it surprises you all when he brings up a student she mentions in passing weeks ago. He’s a bad influence, too—his suggestions for Shouto to cheat earn a wilting glare from you that makes him concede begrudgingly.

Despite it all, you like to think Touya could have been a good brother. Can be a good brother. You don’t lose hope that maybe, amongst all the rubble, a small, fertile patch of soil exists.

It takes weeks. Months. Close to a year, even. One healer turns to two, two turns to three, and eventually, there’s a handful of the best healing quirks slowly trying to fix his charred, weakened body. Your eyes fill with tears the first time you see the swell of his round cheek restored, earning a huff and roll of his eyes.

Always so damn emotional, he grunts. He closes his eyes and relishes in your touch when you stroke the skin with your finger, though.

His skin is never quite the same. That much, you expected. It’s better than it ever was before, though. No more staples holding him together. No more deep purple and rubbery skin. It’s textured and discolored, but not nearly as rough as it used to be. You don’t care what he looks like, of course. As long as he’s with you and breathing you’re content—but he seems happy with the results.

He starts to feel whole again.

His family never stops visiting, either. (Except for his father—you promptly tell him his presence is no longer required one day. He nods like he understands. As though he can understand. It enrages you, but he offers you a quiet thank you before he leaves. Thank you for taking care of my son. You hate him more after that—for being appreciative that you now do what he couldn’t).

He gets moved to a proper hospital bed eventually. There are still tubes and needles hooked up to him—he’s not too happy about that. It makes sharing a bed with you hard. But he settles for letting you rest your head against his thigh, hand clutching his.

It’s as good as it gets for now.

Slowly, surely, Touya for the first time, doesn’t head for death. Slowly, surely, for the first time, he starts to heal.

————

“Is Touya-nii sleeping?”

“No,” you smile, turning to Shouto as he walks up to you, “he’s in there. Bored, actually.”

Shouto bends down, grabs the snack that drops from the vending machine for you and hands it to you.

Touya is right. He was raised to be a kind boy.

“I brought soba,” he says quietly. “I heard he can have solid food now.”

“He’ll appreciate it,” you beam.

Shouto lingers. You smile gently and take the hint, joining him and walking alongside the boy and make your way to Touya’s room.

It hits you then, all at once. Shouto has never spent a moment with his brother alone. Not properly, at least—not without trying to avoid being burned to death and not without having an unconscious, recovering Touya laid up in bed rest.

Soon, you hope, they can share a meal together without you in the room to ease the awkward tension.

“Touya,” you call, walking in, “you have a surprise!”

“We can finally use this bed for better things?” He asks, voice a raspy grunt.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing in exasperation and making him snicker as he notices Shouto follow you through the door.

“No,” you say tiredly.

“Bummer,” he grins. It’s cheeky and cute enough that you don’t scold him further.

“Is the bed uncomfortable? I’m sure we can get a better one,” Shouto offers.

Touya lets out an amused snort, and you let your shoulders fall in relief—at least Shouto’s cluelessness at times makes things less painful when Touya remains his shameless self.

There’s comfort in it, though. You suppose you don’t mind it as much if his personality is still in tact.

“So what’s my surprise, doll. It’s not nice to keep the sickly waiting, y’know.”

“Why don’t you ask Shouto?” You roll your eyes.

Touya looks over at his younger brother. So much has changed in the last few months, you think—Touya looks happy to see his brother. It’s a big step up from murder, for sure.

“You shouldn’t have, little brother,” he grins, “what is it? Our father’s death certificate?”

“Oh, Touya,” you sigh, shaking your head, “you never change.”

“I brought soba,” Shouto holds up the bag in his hand, “I thought we could share.”

The smooth grin on Touya’s lips falter. Something flashes in his eyes—something close to regret. Maybe even sadness. It’s gone as quickly as it comes, replaced with practiced amusement as he hums.

“Great,” he drawls, “hospital food sucks, you know.”

Touya has more in common with his brother than he doesn’t. It takes him good near two decades to realize as much. Maybe, if he had the opportunity to realize Shouto was his brother who liked soba just like him and not the son that replaced him in his father’s fucked up goals, he could have lived just to live instead of just to die.

But he’s living now, he supposes. Breathing and talking and seeing—and as of more recently, eating. (Real food, at least).

There’s still a chance to eat soba with Shouto, though. Maybe Shouto hates fish just like him too—maybe he doesn’t. Maybe, in another life, he could pass his fish over to his younger brother at the dinner table when their mother isn’t looking.

“I’ll bring some more often then,” Shouto offers.

You smile as Touya’s eyes soften. The glimmer with a little bit of excitement, even. A childlike sort of glee he never got to have.

“Yeah,” he nods, “you should. Don’t expect me to pay you back, though. Your older brother’s dead broke.”

“Okay,” Shouto smiles.

You settle in the corner, letting the younger of the two take the chair beside the bed. Shouto pulls out chopsticks—Touya huffs over getting the brown ones instead of the black.

Shouto trades without a complaint.

You hear Touya murmur, “did you see the news lately?”

“About what?”

“About Endeavor, what else?”

“No,” Shouto swallows, “I had exams.”

“I told you, it’s easy to cheat if you—”

“Touya,” you hiss, making the latter curl his lips into a slight pout.

“Study hard, Shouto,” Touya grunts, rolling his eyes. “Hit those books, I guess.”

————— bonus —————

“How was today?” You ask quietly, sat on the edge of his bed, stroking through his hair. It’s shorter than it used to be, regrowing slowly from the roots with the rest of his body.

“Are we back on this talking about our days bullshit again?” Touya sighs, “we spent the whole day together, doll. You saw it all.”

“C’mon,” you hum, pinching his cheek, “indulge me.”

“S’fine,” he rolls his eyes, “the little brat was good company, I guess.”

“Yeah?” You grin.

He doesn’t meet your eyes, looking off to the side as he shrugs. “Yeah. Don’t make it weird.”

“You seemed like you were having fun,” you beam, stroking his cheek with your thumb. He rolls his eyes, leaning into your touch slightly.

“Yeah, s’cause my only company is you. Gets boring.” He gives you a charming, teasing, smooth little smile that has you scowling at him.

“How rude,” you huff, “maybe I should leave you with no company at all.”

He chuckles, turning his head slowly to give the pad of your thumb a soft, delicate kiss. “I’m kidding. You’re the best company a wanted criminal-turned-hospital-prisoner could have, doll.”

I would make a longer more detailed healing journey fic with touya but I already have a half written long fic for him that I seriously need to finish so it can wait. For now it will stay a short drabble

[chaoticallyfragmentary]

Dabi X Reader

Here’s a little Dabi fluff because he deserves to be loved. Drops mic, walks off stage

Walks back, whispers  “contains kissing and making out. Do not read if that is not your cup of tea.” Scurries back. 

Dabi didn’t merely have bruises. He was eviscerated and then stapled up with everything misaligned, held together by threads of grief and rage. The more he lets you see of him, the little shit with deep, wary ocean eyes, mind like a lightning strike and a wit to match, the deeper you fall. He was a tragedy in making. An unfinished thought. An abandoned book. Here’s the awful thing about people like you daring to love, it gave you something to live for.

You both’ve outrun your demons for now. So, tonight he is here, a blush faint on his cheeks, as a battered old radio played to itself, a romantic tune, wavering in and out beneath a gentle pall of static. His eyes are unguarded and open, revealing the fragility underneath. He is the Dabi with his arms around your waist and your head against his chest. The Dabi whose smirk wavers into something a little soft, a little lovesick. He is the familiar swell in your chest as he twirls you in the abandoned factory, moonlight your stage, voice a little husky as he hums under his breath. You reach up, peppering soft kisses along his jaw and for the first time in what feels like a millennium, Touya laughs. It is warm and golden, like slow dripping honey. Dabi made ice look good but now you know, he makes warmth look even better. “I love you.” the confession slips out, like it was meant to. Dabi halts, looking at you, agony on the brink. He drops to his knees as you hear a breath, a rough strangled sound and then he bursts into tears. Blood coating his hands as he buries his face in them.

“I’m sorry—Touya, hey, Look at me love, please. It’s okay, I-” He practically pulls you into his lap, crushing you against him like he wants to hide you in the hollow of his chest. Your breath stutters as you realize he was blubbering confessions of love into your skin. You take his face in your hands, thumbing across the apples of his cheeks, the staples cool against his warmth. All the moments before this, all the errant impulses to touch and taste and kiss him pale in comparison to the want and need barreling through you. It shreds every ounce of self control that you might have left.

“Can I kiss you, Touya?”

Dabi could taste his heartbeat, thudding against the back of his throat as your hand slides along the side of his neck, into the back of his hair. He nods, an equally near-reverent yes breathed straight through you.

His eyes slide shut as you whisper his name and place a barely there peck at the corner of his mouth. His eyes whip open with impatience as you drop a kiss at the other corner of his mouth. A greedy want of him clawed against your ribs as you finally pull his bottom lip between your teeth, your nails dragging against his hair, his groans and your whimpers leading towards a spiraling loss of control. He knew he was going to experience spontaneous combustion as both of you delve in deeper, harder and more frantic, your chest burning, lungs on fire. He nibbled and sucked, the bruises bubbling underneath your skin, your hands dragging him even closer as you are nearly debilitated by the force of your desire. The kiss slows, with gentle nips and breathless sighs. He looks at you with something akin to hope, a lot like your undoing, at ease in a way you’d only ever seen him with you. Dropping his voice to a low whisper, finally a smirk tugging at his mouth, he whispers “I love you too doll,” the sound brushing up against you, making its home in sinew and bone.

Falling in love with him was tangled bedsheets and smudged make-up, like a quiet sigh that slips out concessionary and pleading. It is the stillness in the air before a storm, the knowing smirks and the late nights out, fishnets and leather jackets, forest fire and smoke. It is the random acts of kindness and the glow of city lights, the soft whispers and the faded photographs. It is the eye-rolls and lips dripping sarcasm, the silver moonbeams and the empty ballrooms, the slow kisses, warmth that rages like hellfire and arms that feel like home.

[errantknightess]

Ship: Noctis/Prompto || Words: 686 || Rated: T || Post-Dawn fluff

Prompt: the first “I love you”

[Read on AO3, along with the rest of my Holiday Wishes drabbles I’ll be posting this month!]

*

It’s snowing again.

Prompto is glad to see it. He’s missed the real deal – the big, fluffy white petals swirling gently in the air, not the dirty clumps of ice that used to pelt down from the dark sky for the last ten years. He’s never liked winter that much, but it’s nice to have it back. It’s nice to have seasons, and restful nights, and days. Even though mornings are still late and pale, and the sun peeking through the blinds seems like it’s still getting its bearings after all this time.

It wouldn’t be the only one.

Prompto turns down the heat on the stove and carefully pours the scrambled eggs over the bacon already sizzling in the pan. A quick and simple meal, a staple from the times when fresh produce was hard to come by. It’s a little embarrassing how out of practice he’s found himself when it comes to cooking actual proper food. But he’ll get the hang of it soon enough. He has all the time in the world, and a very good incentive.

After all, now he’s cooking for two.

The bedroom door screeches open. From the corner of his eye, Prompto watches Noct meander through the apartment, weaving his way towards him across the messy floor. His eyes are still half-closed, like he’s navigating solely by the smell of breakfast – and no wonder, because it smells damn great.

“Mornin’,” Noct yawns, slipping behind Prompto into their tiny kitchen. He grabs two mugs from the drying rack, fumbles with the tight lid of the tin to retrieve the teabags, then reaches over Prompto’s shoulder to flick the kettle on.

He doesn’t step away. Prompto smiles down at the eggs as his best friend wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him close.

The old apartment is chilly, and Noct is still barefoot and in his sleep clothes – but when they press up against each other, it’s warm, warm, warm.

Prompto leans back into Noct’s chest, letting his breaths fill the small space between them. It feels good – even if every embrace makes his heart squeeze. Ever since his return, Noct holds on to him like a lifeline, like he needs a solid proof under his fingertips to make sure all of this is real. Like he’s still on borrowed time.

Prompto stirs the eggs with one hand, resting the other over Noct’s wrist.

“What’s up, sleepyhead?”

“I love you,” Noct mutters, his nose smushed behind Prompto’s ear.

Prompto goes still, breath catching in his throat. He knows he’s being silly – but the stupid hope he’s been nursing for half of his life swells up within him again like a soap bubble, beautiful and shimmery and ready to burst.

Slowly, he turns his head just enough to glance at Noct, expecting to see him still bleary and blissfully unaware of what he’s saying. Because that’s the only explanation, of course, it has to be.

Yet the eyes that meet his are sharp and sparkling with smile.

Prompto finds his breath again as it leaves his lungs all at once. The bubble erupts into a flurry of sparkling speckles that flutter in his chest, like a snow globe that’s been thoroughly shaken up. It’s making him dizzy. If it wasn’t for Noct’s arms wound firm around him, he’s not sure he would still be standing.

“I love you too,” he whispers.

After bottling it up for so long, it’s surprising how easily it comes out.

But maybe it shouldn’t be, because the moment Noctis leans in, everything fall into place like it’s always been there. Familiar. Right. Obvious.

They should have been doing this for fifteen years already.

Noct’s lips are warm, and his stubble scratches Prompto’s cheek as they smile into the kiss. The sun outside the window seems suddenly brighter, and the snow keeps on falling, covering the world in white like a fresh new page of an unwritten book.

It will be fun to go out in it later, Prompto thinks. To make tracks with Noct’s footsteps right beside his.

But first, breakfast.

There is no hurry.

[deliciousfoodstories]

Cream of Mushroom Chicken: A Taste of Home

In the heart of a bustling city, nestled between towering skyscrapers, stood a cozy little restaurant called “Comfort Kitchen.” The owner, Mia, had created the place as a tribute to her childhood memories of family dinners around the kitchen table. One dish, in particular, was the star of her menu: Cream of Mushroom Chicken.

Mia had learned the recipe from her grandmother, a woman with an innate talent for making ordinary ingredients extraordinary. Every Sunday, they would cook together, and the rich aroma of sautéed mushrooms and garlic would fill their small apartment. It was a labor of love, a dish that brought everyone together after a long week.

One chilly evening, as the city glimmered under the soft glow of streetlights, Mia prepared for the dinner rush. She was busy chopping mushrooms when the bell above the door jingled, announcing the arrival of a familiar face. It was Sam, a regular patron who came in every week. His warm smile and easy laughter had become a staple of Comfort Kitchen.

“Hey, Mia! I could smell the mushrooms from outside. What’s cooking tonight?” he asked, taking a seat at the bar.

Mia laughed. “You know it’s always Cream of Mushroom Chicken on a Thursday! Want to help me make it?”

Sam, always eager to lend a hand, jumped up and joined her in the kitchen. As they stirred the creamy sauce together, they reminisced about their lives—the challenges of adulthood, the dreams they still hoped to chase. Mia shared stories of her grandmother, her eyes shining with nostalgia.

“You know, this dish is my way of keeping her memory alive,” she said. “It’s not just food; it’s love, family, and comfort all in one.”

Sam nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I get that. My grandmother had a special recipe too, a chicken pot pie that could cure anything. It’s funny how food can bring us back to those moments.”

As they plated the dish, the kitchen filled with an intoxicating aroma, and Mia carefully garnished the creamy chicken with fresh parsley. They served it to a table of regulars, who raved about the meal as they dug in, laughter echoing through the restaurant.

Later that evening, as the last customers left and the city began to quiet down, Mia and Sam sat together, enjoying a well-deserved slice of leftover cake. The conversation shifted from food to dreams, and Mia found herself sharing her secret wish to open a larger restaurant one day, one that could accommodate more families and memories.

“Why not do it?” Sam encouraged. “You have the talent and the passion. You’re already making a difference here.”

Mia sighed, a mix of hope and uncertainty swirling within her. “It’s a big leap. What if it fails?”

“Or what if it succeeds?” Sam countered, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “You’ll never know unless you try. Besides, you have the best dish in the city! People would flock to it.”

Inspired by their conversation, Mia decided to host a special “Family Night” at Comfort Kitchen the following week. She would offer her Cream of Mushroom Chicken alongside other classic comfort dishes, inviting families to come together, just as she had with her grandmother.

As the day of the event arrived, Mia decorated the restaurant with twinkling lights and cheerful banners. She created a warm, inviting atmosphere, reminiscent of her childhood home. Families filled the tables, children’s laughter mingling with the comforting aroma of food.

Mia worked tirelessly in the kitchen, pouring her heart into every dish. When the time came to serve the Cream of Mushroom Chicken, she watched as families savored every bite, the creamy sauce coating their taste buds and transporting them to simpler times.

After dinner, a little girl approached Mia, her face smeared with sauce and a huge smile on her face. “This is the best chicken ever! Can I have the recipe?” she asked, her eyes wide with wonder.

Mia knelt down, her heart swelling. “This recipe is a family secret, but I’ll tell you a little something: it’s made with love, just like everything you do in your own kitchen.”

As the evening drew to a close, Mia felt a profound sense of joy. She realized that her dream wasn’t just about opening a bigger restaurant; it was about creating a space where people could connect, share stories, and build memories—just like her grandmother had done with her.

Weeks turned into months, and Family Night became a beloved tradition at Comfort Kitchen. Sam became a regular partner in the kitchen, and together they expanded the menu, incorporating dishes that celebrated their own family legacies.

In the heart of the city, Comfort Kitchen flourished. And with each plate of Cream of Mushroom Chicken served, Mia not only honored her grandmother’s memory but also brought new families together, one comforting bite at a time. It was a reminder that, in a world that often felt chaotic, the simple act of sharing a meal could forge lasting connections, weaving a tapestry of love and warmth through the fabric of community.

[secriden]

oh my gosh babe, no this is the absolute OPPOSITE of annoying i love LOVE it when people interact this way!! this is like the best part of fandom-- sort of dipping your toes into something, and then having someone friendly and nice be like 'LET ME SHOW YOU THE RICHES OF THIS KINGDOM'! *u* <3 (i have no idea who haobin is but I *think* I get the idea. xD)

re: Daou's enlistment

thank you for explaining the thai enlistment thing! but also...wow, daou was enlisted but still got time off to film Love in Translation? and do promotions? that's kind of cool (in that he could keep his career alive even while enlisted), although also sound so hard having to stay fit for military training. one of my good friends is in the infantry and the training is so brutal. but the buzz cut makes sooo much more sense now. i was wondering at the odd choice cuz its so 'rough and tumble' for the thai bl industry. although it definitely has its own aesthetic appeal.

all i know is that the whole clip where offroad jumps into daou's arms when he's in military fatigues is like... what kind of fanfic my lover who I thought was lost on the battlefield has returned to me scene am i watching come to life right now?? i could practically hear the swelling orchestral music. *w*

re: pentor & diamond

YES I made the connection about pentor shortly after i posted my reaction post. xDDD I'm still reeling from that. I really really really hope that if Mame decides to make Love Sand into a show that they recast Pentor. He was hilarious and I really enjoyed his scenes and he's SO SO handsome in that soft kind of winsome way. I WANT TO PROTECT HIM. Also I'm insanely intrigued by the way FortPeat seemed to be familiar/know Pentor fairly well in the BTS of Love Sea and I'm just wondering how?? like I'm wondering if its just from workshops or if they already have like an early friendship cuz of the overall tight knit thai bl actor community.

ohhh I'll check Diamond out! Are Laz1 broken up now that DaouOffroad are kind of focusing on their acting careers and Pentor is off doing another survival show?? IDK how I feel about him going the kpop route tho-- cuz he wouldn't have time for acting if he's going to be in training for kpop.

re: Daou's background/singing

oh damn ok if he's had Chinese opera training that explains how he can hit those insane high notes. like his range is .... very impressive. but yeah just off the few clips i've seen, it does seem like he hasn't been taught to really support very well? although i'm by no means an expert, but he seems to have a lot of tension in his throat when he's in that transitional zone between the mid to high range. then he nails the highest register cuz that may be the opera training kicking in. his singing kind of fascinates me - i wonder if i can find any videos of like a professsional singer analysing his singing style. :O

LOL WAIT DID DAOU RELEASE A SONG ABOUT THE WHOLE PHI/NONG thing??? or is that a cover of a song that already exists? I didn't realise phi/nong excludes romantic implications tho?? i kind of assumed it was kind of like the korean "oppa" which, yes can be used for biological siblings but also works for like a gf/bf (bf/bf) situation. :O its hilarious that he posted a whole ass clip in reaction to that tho. xD Their sense of humour/dynamic is so different from what I'm used to (ok mostly fortpeat) and i love it in its own way. xDDD

The use of the English partner is interesting. Like fortpeat use partner too but I think they mostly use it in thai (hmmm... I need to rewatch some interviews, maybe I'm wrong about this). I wonder if that's like a bl industry staple to avoid having to confirm/deny relationships. Cuz partner works for "professional/acting" and "romantic" relationships.

although idk how much they're trying to "hide" when they have apparently literally eXCHANGED RINGS ALREADY WTF. XD

what... what was offroad expecting?? did he think daou was going to feel the ring through the tissue or something? xD

also daou showing off the ring has the same vibe as fort (peat gave fort a ring a while back and he's quite intentional about wearing it at specific events and standing in such a way that draws attention to his hands when he doesn't really do that at events where he doesn't wear that specific ring ((although its a bit different cuz fp's aren't meant to be couple rings idt... its just a gift that peat gave fort))).

SO i've never heard of lakorns before. :O I looked it up and it says "thai soap opera" so like... basically the thai equivalent of a latin american telenovela? super dramatic and potential for unhinged family story beats?? xD how intriguing. I don't think I've seen a Thai before but I did grow up watching the Indonesian/Malay/Indian versions of these types of shows and I have very fond memories of them. I wonder what that looks like in a bl tho :O

....the one with the fox???? *so confused* I tried googling "century of love fox" and got this (which cracked me up):

*does a bit more digging*

OH. O_O I... I see.

re: the whole discussion about fanservice/"ship"

OK... OKAY yeah i can kind of see why DaouOffroad may be... has quite a bit of evidence. Damn, ok, Daou just saying "its not fanservice" with his whole entire chest is a lot. "It make me upset when people assume that". WOW.

But I actually really like the point he's making about how .... dismissive it can be to assume that it IS fanservice. I've never seen that take before, and it's very thought provoking. I think (although cmiiw please!), he's kind of making the point that implicit in the idea that they're "just doing fanservice" or "its all just for show" is the assumption of heteronormativity which on a fundamental level counteracts something they maybe feel strongly about in terms of representation. Like for them, its important that people not assume that they aren't a genuine couple.

I guess the whole "it's really not our business either way" is a good rule to follow because that kind of stops both extremes.

[Note: I personally don't like it when fans get overly invested with specific couples to the point of pressuring the people to act certain ways or getting mad if they interact with other people... cuz that's the other end of the toxic fandom space that made me leave the kpop fandom years ago. But Daou still makes an excellent point that I've never really considered before and that's so cool and very thought provoking. Hmmm.]

But on the other OTHER hand-- yes, your honour, me thinks they are in love. /sCREAMS

an introduction to daouoffroad: a record (mostly for me)

so, the lovely @luthienmpl was very kind and gave me a daouoffroad starter pack so i'm gonna learn about them!

i adore finding out about something this way because it's like someone shared their love of The Thing with me! how lovely! how lucky to catch a glimpse of how much joy The Thing gives someone else!!

this is literally just random stream of consciousness thoughts as i watch the videos so i'll spare anyone who isn't interested and put it under a cut.

oh my god they met as contestants on a survival boyband show wtf!? what kind of fanfic kdrama au start is this already!?

ok damn but daou's runs tho :O <3

nooooooo offroad is crying and thanking daou for his support how dARE YOU TOY WITH MY HEART LIKE THIS!? ;A;

ohmygosh is that the actress who plays P'Joy in LITA??? <3

fuck, the pressing the face into the tummy of the one standing thing. why is that so cute. ugh D:<

waitwaitWAIT is that a thing? do directors just... write stories/shows for couples who have good chemistry whatttt?? is this like a thai ent industry staple? (oh i guess mame kind of did that with fortpeat/mutrak) that's so funny omg. xDDD

laz1 is so kpop styled :O and i must add Last Kiss to my playlist imMEDIATELY its such a pretty song?? <3333

thiS BRIDGE i AM FEELING IT!?!?! DAOU WHAT IS THAT RIFF!?!??! HOLY SHIT THAT WAS SUCH A SMOOTH TRANSITION UP TO THE HIGH NOTE!? *O* <3

(was daou already an established singer before or something?? boy has pIPES!)

*faintly* d-did he try to... bite... the cat's... paw??

/SCREAMS nO THE HARMONIES yeah ok i'm a fan weLP THA TWAS QUICK

(i'm such a sucker for vocal line groups ugh dammit TwT)

wait, enlistment?? huh i did not know thailand also did that... is it the same as skorea?

oh-- oh my god he sent flowers? through his sister?? *whispers* that's so sweet ;u;

goodness, offroad literally running and jumping into daou's arms while daou is still in military fatigues-- guys this is either zero attempt at being subtle or the best cp marketing i've seen in my life wow

awww did offroad bring his graduation gown to the event just so he could get pics with daou?? that's so cute! ;A;

okAY SIR?? SIR NO the sleeping right pressed up to offroad as he pretends to snore but like daou is just paSSED OUT HALF ON TOP OF HIm NO SIR NO I CANNOT HANDLE THIS NOPE BYE

(the cut right as daou reaches up to shut offroad up had me cracking up tho, they've got a wicked sense of humour i really like them)

ahahahah the members playing along is really cute!! poor daou has to be relegated to the "jealous bf" -- this is SO interesting to watch coming out of old kpop fandom and kpop skinship to this xD like... i am enLIGHTEND *O*

*cries* what is this... poolside actual love confession proposal with rings and pLANNING to commemorate their.. working.. relationship!?!? i'm??? they are so LOUD wtf-- i'm not... used to this... !?! *incoherent noises*

sidebar: i'm struggling to get a handle on their honorifics... are they phi/nong? but sometimes dauo sounds like he's using mueng/guu when he addresses offroad directly?

ljsdfjsLfj THE FACE. IN THE TUMMY. ITS BACK <3

OH FUCK OFFROAD WITH THE ASH HAIR. *O* YEAH YEAH OKOKOK i'M NORMAL ABOUT THIS!!!!

oh oh NO did daou just push offroad to the inside of the road so he's on the outside like that's--t hat's so boyfriend coded wtf

bahahaHAHAH is offroad going on about the bracelet because now daou *has* to buy one for him? xD what a smart cookie. xDDD

wAIT DID IT WORK!? PAHAHA--

other thoughts:

pentor looks SO FAMILIAR and i can't figure out why??? ;A; is he in something else?? i'm so confused but i think i love him already WHAT AN ADORABLE DIMPLED BOI *O*

i know you included the Whats The Matter? MV but I'm sorry I'm going to live in Last Kiss for like the next 5 days especially thAT BRIDGE WTF <3

the acoustic/live version is so PRETTY omg ;A; that 3 part harmony in the first chorus *chefs kiss*

sOMEONE is doing like a really high harmony in the pre-chorus and its so thin and wispy and pRETTY ahhh <3

although also ngl i think daou needs maybe some more vocal training he sounds quite strained sometimes... and he's got a lot of tension in his throat but good GOD his range!! he's SO talented wtf; ALSO their youngest member has SUCH a nice tone UGH <33333

their 2 shows:

ok love in translation actually sounds like exactly my cup of tea hahahah it looks so cute <3 and potentially heartbreaking but like not TOO heartbreaking

century of love... yeah ok i'm gonna put that on my list of things to get to when i'm in the right headspace for that kind of angst but what an interesting concept!! its like comphet, the series. xD

wait both their shows are comphet the series? xDDDD they just swapped who was suffering from it.

hoboy they are SO LOUD already from the beginning wtf

(sidenote but I would KILL for fortpeat to go on something like this cAN YOU IMAGINE the sHINANIGANS!! peat being so happy at all the food. fort's teasing. ugh. where can i start a petition ya'll)

the heIGHT DIFFERENCE am i'm feeling some type of way about it, yes yes i am

bAHAHAH the mandatory piggyback ride that they actually just SAY is boyfriend material i'm-- i'm not use do this lack of wink wink nudge nudge skinship approach in my boyband duos like?? *confused noises pt 2*

oh oh my gosh they have auntie fans too??? how adorableeeee!!!?! damn offroad sounds so soft in southern dialect idk whats going on my ears are blessed *u* <3

I don't know why but daou's "Try traditional snack!" made me crack up xDDDD

i have just realised what a mistake it was to start this on an empty stomach T___T that all looks SO GOOD wtf

lol that poor lady with the corgi's just wanted to go on her way and she got way-landed by these insane boys xDD

wft the nUZZING INTO THE NECK THING. IT S STILL. SO MUCH. IHAVE FEELIGNS ABOUT THIS MOMENT Tu T <3

guYS-- GUYS you said you both paid half... so you don't... you don't still need to do the cheek kisse-- oh nevermind you did them already ok then

i mean ok but for real tho the amount of times offroad just cracks up at somethign random daou does is genuinely really sweet?? like they seem to really have this wavelength that is just their own *u*

[footygirl114]

Suéter (Ona Batlle x Reader)

This one is based on the prompt “Would it be alright if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.” Definitely won't be the only one I get out tonight :)

You had been with United since the beginning, signing with the team in their first professional season in 2018. You were one of the marquee players they wanted to build the team around. It helped that you were a staple on the Lioness squad and were a box to box midfielder. Helping the team go from the championship to the top league was an amazing feeling. You knew that this club was probably going to be your last one. 

When the team moved up and attracted more talent, you loved to take some of the new players under your wing. You were not the oldest player on the team, but you sometimes felt like the team mom. All your teammates loved you, you had a quiet confidence about you. You made everyone feel comfortable coming to you with any problems. Being there from the start also meant you knew most of the staff so you were often the one called upon for any issues between the team and staff. 

When the team signed the cutest Spanish midfielder in the second season of the top flight campaign, you were smitten. You knew that she struggled with English so you took it upon your self to help her get acclimatised. It helped that you had lived in Spain when you were younger so you knew Spanish. 

A few weeks into the season you noticed her slipping a bit. You took your role as team mom seriously and wanted to find out why. You invited her over with the other person you knew she got along with on the team for dinner. You wanted her to be comfortable and open up to you. 

You had found a local ethnic food store and decided that you would cook up some Spanish foods, hoping to make her more comfortable. 

Ivana and Ona both showed up together and you knew inviting both of them was the right idea. It made them both comfortable that you could help them with translations. 

“Hola Y/N, thanks for inviting us” Ivana tells you as they walk into your apartment. 

Ona follows her and right away notices the smell “Y/N, huele a casa” she says with a small smile. 

You smile back and tell them “First, only English tonight for practice. The food was nothing I found a local store and wanted to make you comfortable.” you finish and you can feel the blush rising to your cheeks. 

Hearing this Ona steps closer to you and pulls you into a hug “Gracias Y/N” 

You pull back with a blush still on your cheeks, you notice that she has tears running down her cheeks. You see Ivana walk up and put an arm around her and ask “what’s wrong chica” 

“Ive just been feeling so … how do you say it… home sick?” she gets out through the tears. 

You pull them both into a hug at this and say “Well next time, let me know and I can whip up some more food to make you feel like home. I just cant do anything about the rain, or the lack of beaches, and lack of siestas” 

They both laugh at that, but as you meet Ona’s eyes you feel like you can see deep into her soul. You hope that she doesn’t notice your attraction but you cant break eye contact with her. It takes Ivana moving away to pop the wine for you to break the contact and head into the kitchen to finish the meal. 

**

It’s been a few weeks since you had your moment with Ona at your apartment. You notice her start to open up more with the other players. You notice her become more comfortable and engaged with the team. You also notice that she tends to spend a lot of time near you, whether it be at team dinners or during breaks in practice, she gravitates towards you. 

You feel your heart swell at this, you know it may just be the fact that you make her feel comfortable. The more time you spend with her the more you have to hide your feelings that are not so friendly. You would hate to ruin your friendship as you are clearly someone she needs right now. 

After the last training session before an international break, most of the team had already left the change room when Ona approached you. 

She sat on the bench beside your locker she reaches over and grabs your United hoodie and asks you “would it be alright if I borrowed your sweater” she looks down at it in her hands and adds in a soft voice you could barley hear “it smells like you.” 

You feel your heart melt at that, she’s adorable. You sit right beside her on the bench and put your arm around her and respond “Of course Ona, are you sure you’ll be okay?” 

She settles comfortably under your arm and asks “as long as you’ll still be here when I get back?” 

“Of course I will be here” you hesitate but add on “Ill miss you though” 

You feel her pull back slightly from your side, but she turns to meet your eyes, reaches over to grab your hand and says with a blush “Good cause Ill miss you too” 

She stands after this with a little hop and goes over to her locker to grab her stuff. You are still sat there in a daze, when she comes back over with your hoodie on and her bag over her shoulder. She bends over and presses a kiss to your cheek and whispers “adios Y/N” and she heads out of the locker room. 

You are embarrassed to admit it but you sit there staring at the door for a good five minutes before you get up to leave as well. You leave feeling a bit of hope blossoming in your chest at the fact that she may reciprocate the feelings. 

***

It was the longest camp of your life, you feel like you were in a daze the whole time. You kept thinking of the Spanish fullback, you had over thought every interaction you have had with her. Some of your English teammates had been teasing you about being so out of it over a girl, but they had no idea who the girl was. 

You and Ona had texted a few times during camp, but you both had been so busy it wasn’t always easy. You also didn’t know what to think as she never brought anything up. You were going to let her dictate your next interactions, as you were not prepared to ruin your friendship. 

You were back at your apartment in Manchester, you didn’t have training till tomorrow so you planned a low key night in to binge watch some of the shows you missed. You had just settled to get your binge watch session started when there was a knock at the door. You groan as you get up to see who interrupted your night. 

“Hola Y/N” Ona greets you as soon as you open the door, she’s in jeans but has your hoodie on. 

“Ona! What are you doing here? Your back already?” you ask surprised as you were not expecting her to show up on your doorstep. 

She pushes past you into your apartment, so you close the door, lean back against it and turn to face her. She’s pacing and muttering under her breath in Spanish, when you ask “Ona? What is it?”

She stops and turns towards you and takes a deep breath before saying “My Spain teammates convinced me to be brave, so this is me being brave and taking what I want” as she says this she’s slowly stepping towards you until you can feel the heat of her body. 

You have to look down at her slightly as you are taller than her, but when you do you meet her eyes and you can see the desire in them. She places both hands on your cheeks and pulls you down to meet her lips. You give no resistance and give into her and deepen the kiss. 

She keeps the kiss a languid pace, and you pour all the feelings you have felt for her into the kiss. She pulls back slightly and whispers “wow, that was amazing” 

You lean in and press your lips to her nose, and say “If I had known you felt this way I would have done that a long time ago” 

She laughs and blushes and says “Thank you for being there for me all this time. I thought you were so comfortable to me just because I miss home, but when I was home all I could think about is you. I knew it wasn’t just about you being there when I needed someone, it was because I think I may be falling for you.” 

You lean down at this and press your lips to hers quickly and then pull back and say “I’m falling for you too” 

[books-and-catears]

I don't really know if I'm allowed to make a request specially since I usually don't get my request taken but it worth a shot :)

Can you make the Obey me character's react to Teen Mc giving them a special type of flower? Like it expresses how they feel?

For example: trust (purple) Family (Red) Love (Yellow) brother/sister (Pink/blue)

(Teen Mc thinks of the demon brothers as family)

If you want to do Lord Diavolo And Barbutos, give them a flower that of Daisy (means she/he/they see them as parents)

:)

I will appreciate it if you did this! Lots of love and support

Worry not! Your request is taken! This is such a cute idea tho awwww!!

I'll be making up some imaginary flower names for Devildom flora because I'm very bad at actual flower language, sorry :')

Hopefully you'll like it 🥺 Thank you so much for your kindness. Endless love and support to you as well!

Lucifer

Lucifer noticed a rare blue flower tucked neatly among his quills after you left his room.

It was his favourite shade of blue. Attached to it, was a note. "A sturdy Bluebellena for my strongest brother."

Oh my, this is from MC, it seems. He smiled knowing full well the significance of the flower.

His chest swelled twice the amount with pride. You saw him as your big brother? He couldn't be happier about it.

If you think he was overprotective and overbearing before, haha you were wrong.

Gives you special treatment and spoils you with gifts and treats. Favours you over his brothers.

Mammon

Notices a several small purple flowers tucked into his wallet next to Goldie when he comes looking for it in his room

Oi what's this? There's even a note? This looks like MC wrote it.

"To the best protector I could ask for :)" The note said.

"The purple Poppyionis - are staple symbol of trust" ,Satan told him when asked.

Mammon teared up instantly. Will definitely seek you out for a hug. He never thought anyone would trust a scumbag like him...

Overprotective 2.0. Is constantly by your side, keeping all other demons ten feet away from you. Also spoils you with gifts.

Only you can stop him from getting up to trouble because you're the only person he cannot lie to.

Leviathan

Huh? An Akuzon delivery? He didn't order anything yet. What's that inside?

Flowers and a Ruri Chan keychain?! WHAT?! WHO DID THIS?!

The Ruri Chan keychain rested amongst the bright yellow Sunshine Lilies along with a note. "Matching keys for my dearest friend."

Levi hugged the whole box to his chest, breathing in the Lilies. They smell just as pure as your friendship made him feel.

You can now enter his room WITHOUT a password! You've proved your friendship, now he will prove his ten fold.

He custom designs Cosplays of your favourite characters for you and brings you everywhere and talks thrice as much.

Satan

When he came to his room to fetch his latest read, he found two big white Penelope flowers in full bloom, tucked next to his book mark

And very faintly in pencil, one of the lines one of the page was underlined.

It read: "A found family is rare and strong one. Thank you for being mine." Satan cast a spell so the flowers wouldn't wilt.

He can't believe how much faith you have in him. To think that someone who would consider loving Wrath as family...

Overprotective 3.0 but he's more subtle about it. Teaches you any and every spell needed to protect yourself and any demon even remotely mean to you disappears the next day.

Use the cat themed stationery or socks he gifts you, he will be over the moon.

Asmodeus

Oh my my, what's this?? Who left a bouquet of flowers in his room? Well it's not uncommon but they are usually outside his door

Such pretty rouge Persemones all tied up so neatly with a bow and a note. "I hope this is what I look in your eyes all the time."

Persemones were used to convey celebration of the birth of a younger sibling in Devildom. Asmo was overjoyed as he danced around his room with the boquet

Then he promptly poses and posts pictures with it on his Devilgram before hunting you down and including you in them

Pampers you the most. Loves dressing you up and gifting you matching accessories to deepen your bond.

Beelzebub and Belphegor

The twins woke up to a potted plant near their window. Three flowers growing on the same branch - all three with different colours.

Red, Yellow and Purple petals all brushing against each other and a note attached to the pot. Beel recognised your writing and Belphie recognised the flowers.

"I don't know if I'm enough to fill your vacancy but thank you for filling mine." The Triplet Belladonnia was a special flower exclusively used during birth of triplets.

They used to three before the war and now years and years later they were three again. You better believe they will take this seriously.

They will even set up a different bed for you in their room. Beel is the protective soft sibling and Belphie is the fun sibling that helps you prank everyone else.

Diavolo and Barbatos

Dainty little Daisies adorn the Butler's quarters and the King's study as well. The make their rooms feel so tranquil and beautiful randomly.

They both meet during breakfast to discuss this curious phenomenon when they find same notes stuck to Diavolo's usual chair and the corner of the table where Barbatos waits.

"Thank you for always taking care of me. I'll always be so grateful." Diavolo was already swelling with joy seeing your handwriting when Barbatos came and explained what the daisies meant.

You think they act like your parents now?! Well wait for what they are about to do now. Chaotic doting parent and Chaotic calm parent dynamic commences.

Will ask you to permanently shift to the Castle and you will be treated exactly like a Prince's daughter. Protection, pampering and never ending wholsomeness.

Solomon and Simeon and Luke

All three of them the same bouquet of a colourful flowers in their rooms. Just lying there near their windows, waiting patiently to be noticed.

"To my fellow exchange students I love so very dearly" - the notes attached to the flowers said. And as if the notes weren't enough, the message in the flowers sent them into wholesomeness overload.

MC you are invited to have sleepovers here in the Purgatory Hall every night now. Yeah, forget HOL just move here please. You love them most don't you? They're your favourites according to the flowers.

In this household you have a Magical Dad, an Angelic Dad and an Hyperadorable sibling how can you ever want to leave now??

You will be overfed, overloved and overpampered and you will love every second of it. It's their promise.

[babyjakes]

teddy bear bandaids. [blurb.]

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

summary | after getting cut up from helping andy with his office work, your daddy helps make the owwies all better.

pairing | daddy!andy barber x little!reader

warnings | sfw regression (daddy!andy little!reader), reader has scratches/paper cuts, hand sanitizer gets in them oof ouch owwy, but oH andy is so soft omgomg iloveandybarber

word count | 548

requested by @fangirlofallthings | Hi Eun, Yay, congrats! And hooray for blurb night and I have a request! For my job I do a lot of filing for legal affairs so I’m often handling old papers that end up giving me paper scratches which I forget until they sting from doing something else like cooking, etc. Would you be able to write a blurb with Andy (I mean he is a lawyer :) with a little reader who keeps getting paper scratches and forgets them until she cries when they start hurting with some good comfort from Andy or whoever you think fits this best!! Sending love

an | hiiiii friend! thankyou so much for this request i love and miss andy barber lol im so excited to write for him he’s truly such a soft man i’m just so convinced of it, i hope you enjoy this sweet little thing i wrote &lt;3

“Thanks so much for all your help, sweetheart,” Andy says as he watches you finish up sorting through the last of the documents he’s placed in front of you. When you’ve ordered everything correctly, you look up at him with a smile, handing over the stack proudly for him to flip through. “Well done, honey. This looks great. Such a good little helper,” he praises, causing your heart to swell.

“Love helping you, Daddy,” you tell him happily, bouncing in your seat as he staples together the pages and files them into his box.

“I’m glad, makes a world of a difference when I’ve got no one at the office willing to help,” he chuckles. “Now what do you say we have a snack, hmm? You must be hungry after doing all that big girl work.”

“Animal crackers?” you ask hopefully, thinking you might get to have the special frosted treat for being so good and helpful.

“Animal crackers, I think we can do that,” Andy agrees with a smile, rising from his chair and going back to check the snack cabinet behind the island. “And look, we even have a brand new box,” he adds cheerfully, grabbing the bottle of hand sanitizer from the counter as he returns to the table to sit next to you.

“Here sweetheart, gotta make sure our hands are nice and clean before we eat,” Andy tells you, opening up the clear cap of the liquid as he speaks. Not thinking twice, you hold out your hands, but are soon met with a painful sting as the burning gel sinks into the fresh papercuts scattered across your palms.

The moment your expression drops, Andy sees it. “Honey?” he asks, at first not realizing what’s happened. But as soon as he sees the big tears welling up in your eyes, along with your hands still held out in front of you that’ve now begun to shake, he fits the pieces together, instantly swooping in to comfort you.

“Oh sweetheart, I’m sorry. Come here,” he coos, taking you by the shoulders and pulling you onto his lap. A large lump sits in your throat, tears now beginning to trail down your cheeks as quiet whimpers rise through your chest. “Here,” Andy soothes, taking his sleeve and wiping off the remaining gel from your hands, causing you to grimace at even the gentlest contact. “I’m sorry, baby,” he says again. “I didn’t know your hands were so cut up. That must sting, huh?”

“Stings really bad,” you tell him, your bottom lip wobbling as he rubs your back gently.

“I know, sweet girl. Daddy’s sorry. How about this, let’s go wash out the sanitizer in the sink, okay? Then you and I can go find some pretty teddy bear bandaids. How does that sound?”

“The ones with the little bows on them?” you sniffle, looking up warily at Andy’s soft set of blue eyes.

“Yep, those’re the ones,” he confirms with a smile, planting a kiss on your head as he lifts you up into the air. “Don’t worry sweetheart, Daddy’ll get you all fixed up.”

“And animal crackers after?” you ask shyly into his neck, causing the man to chuckle as he walks with you to the bathroom.

“That’s right, baby. Animal crackers after.”

[zodiakuroo]

Cupid’s Bullet

Dabi comes home with a very special Valentine’s Day surprise for you.

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Contains: dubcon/noncon, mentions of death, unhealthy relationship, gun play, fear play, forced orgasms, squirting, mindbreak, angst (if you squint?), quirk usage, one slap but it’s a hard one :3, overstimulation, creampie

Word count: 5.3k

Notes: pls this title is so cringe but it's like bullet instead of arrow cause... ya know but anyways happy valentine’s day from scumbag boyfie!dabi

Dating a villain meant that your relationship was unconventional to say the least. For one, public dates were out of the question, unless you wanted it to end in destruction of public property and some scorched heroes. You also always had to have some kind of flimsy excuse for your family and friends when they asked to meet your elusive boyfriend. In addition, you had to accept the fact that he would have to disappear sometimes for weeks on end to do his boss’ bidding.

There was also the small matter of arson, murder and theft and a multitude of other crimes that you’d prefer not to know about. And while you weren’t necessarily okay with a lot of what Dabi did, you loved him. You loved him so much that turning a blind eye was so easy it made you question your own morality. He didn’t scare you either. Not in the slightest, because you knew in his own special way, he loved you too.

In fact it ran much deeper than that. On his worst days, Dabi could set the world ablaze until nothing was left because in the end he didn’t care about anyone or anything, not even himself. Until he met you, he says. He tells you that in you, he’s found something to tether him to this existence.

Ok so maybe he didn’t use those words exactly, but he doesn’t have to. You know that’s what he means when he spoils you with expensive, stolen clothes and jewellery, when he offers to burn alive any person who makes you even the tiniest bit upset and when he comes home to you bloodied and beaten, trusting you to take care of him.

In summary, your relationship forced you to give up on having any “normal couple” experiences.  That included, celebrating anniversaries and silly holidays like Valentine’s Day so you never bothered to keep track of them. It could hardly be considered a sacrifice when you compared those things to what you actually got from your relationship.

Dabi had been gone for close to a month now and you didn’t expect him back anytime soon, not knowing where he was or what he was doing. In fact the very last thing you expected was for him to creep into your bedroom in the middle of night and rouse you from your peaceful sleep with a soft kiss on your temple.

You don’t jump out of bed in a panic, like any sane person would. Instead you let out a satisfied hum, surrounded by the scent of burnt flesh, ash and menthol, feeling warmth bloom in your chest. It should be unpleasant but its Dabi’s scent and you’ve missed it. You’ve missed him. You pick your phone up from your night stand, squinting your eyes at the bright light that makes them sting.

Sunday 14 February, 2:43am

“Welcome home.” You mumble groggily, trying your best to fight off your tired body urging you to go back to sleep.

Instead of replying, he greets you by pressing his mouth to yours. You let out a quiet gasp, startled by the sudden display of affection. His lips are chapped but that doesn’t matter, your tongue darts out to moisten them before your lips lock into a gentle kiss.

You reach up, weaving your hands through his dark hair in an attempt to draw him closer but he retreats, opting instead to turn on the bedside lamp but keeping his other hand behind his back. “Sit up doll. Got a surprise for ya.”

Any thoughts of sleep were long forgotten as soon as his lips met yours but now he’s really piqued your interest. You push yourself up against the headboard and sit cross-legged. You look up at Dabi expectantly. Your boyfriend is smiling wide, skin pulled so taut you think one of his staples might give out. He reveals to you what he has hidden behind his back. A square black box, wrapped in a cobalt satin ribbon.

It’s so cliché you can’t help but let out a small snort. “What is it?”

“It’s a gift. You know… for Valentine’s Day?” He says as though it should be obvious to you.

Your heart swells at the gesture. It really was a surprise. Not in a bad way, you just knew he wasn’t your average boyfriend and that was okay. You didn’t want him to be.

“Well now I feel awful. I didn’t get you anything.” You pout as he props the box onto your lap.

“’S like a toy… so it’s technically for you but kinda for both of us.” It’s unusual to see Dabi this excited. The way he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes filled with mirth makes you all the more curious.

“Like a sex toy?” A giggle escapes you as you undo the bow.

“Are we playing fuckin’ 20 questions? Just open it.” He presses you.

You huff at his impatience but you don’t comment, not wanting to wait any longer either. You remove the lid of the box only to find something wildly unexpected.

A revolver?

You look up at your boyfriend with confusion etched on your face but his gleeful grin doesn’t falter. You’ve never seen a sex toy like this so you pick up the article to test its weight. It’s definitely the real deal.

“Dabi, this isn’t a toy.” You state matter-of-factly.

He merely rolls his eyes and says “Doll, when you can incinerate someone with a flick of your wrist, that little thing is definitely considered a toy?”

“O-okay? What do you want to do with it?” You ask, placing offending object onto your nightstand, not really wanting to hold on to it anymore, the metallic smell making you feel queasy.

“Ever heard of Russian Roulette?” Dabi, picks up the abandoned item, looking down at it with pride.

“What?” You furrow your eyebrows as nervousness starts to creep into your system and you instinctively move to back away from him but Dabi is quick to pull you back.

“It’s real easy doll. No need to look so scared.” He crawls on top of you, caging you in with his limbs. “6 chambers. 1 bullet. All you have to do is be a good girl for me. If not, I pull the trigger and we see what happens.”

The look on his face is positively demented. Azure eyes wide and bright, patchwork face contorted into a a sinister smile, white teeth and silver staples gleaming in the dim light.

“Baby,” you hope the pet name will placate him. It usually does. “I don’t know about thi-“

CLICK

You let out a shriek as your body jolts in fear but you’re unable to move with his weight pressing on top of you.

“You see now doll?” He clicks his tongue behind his teeth. “You’ve gone and wasted a shot.”

Dabi climbs off of you and you’re left lying there with your heart hammering violently in your chest, body trembling, still reeling from the shock of what just happened. Reeling from the shock of what is happening

“You gonna listen now? Gonna be good?” Dabi prompts, rolling the gun around in his hand.

All you can do is nod as your eyes being to water. The uneasy feeling in your stomach only grows worse as your mind races with the possible things Dabi has in store for you.

“Good. Now strip.” He command and like a good girl, you obey.

Your arms feel like they’re made of lead, moving rigidly to take off your shirt (one of Dabi’s old ones). You can’t stop the tears from falling as you pull down your panties, fat droplets roll down your cheeks, desperately trying to swallow the sounds of your sobbing.

This can’t be happening. It’s Dabi. He wouldn’t hurt you. He promised you that.

“Oh cut the fuckin’ waterworks.” He snaps. “As long as you listen, you’ll be fine.”

You try to calm yourself with deep breaths, not wanting to irritate him any further.

When you turn to face him, he’s leaning back on his haunches, one hand resting on his thigh, the other lazily gripping the revolver. “Fair warning, I’m more of a ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ kinda guy. But you know that already.” He thumbs the cylinder, making it spin. “Now, touch yourself for me.”

Breathing is difficult. No matter how much you try, it’s like you can’t get enough air into your lungs. Thinking only of gun in your boyfriend’s hand, you still you bring your own hand between your legs, but you can’t concentrate, what with the dread taking over your body making it tough to have any control of your body. Your movements are stiff and apparently not up to Dabi’s standards.

He only scoffs before-

CLICK

You scream again, body nearly flying off the bed before you curl yourself up into a ball. The fright is enough to stop your heart. For a second you believe it has.

“Doll,” Dabi’s gruff voice brings you back to earth, reminding you that you’re very much alive and whether or not you stay that way is entirely up to him. “You’re ruining my surprise. Got it ‘specially for you and now you’re being a brat.” He quirks an eyebrow at you, almost like a challenge.

“So-sorry.-“ your voice breaks. “I’ll be good.”

You’re still struggling to comprehend how any of this is real. You thought you knew him. You thought he loved you. And here he is, treating your life like it’s a game. You can’t help but think that this is your own fault. You thought you were above everyone else, the exception to your boyfriend’s villain behaviour.

“Yeah?” His voice drops to a whisper. “Then show me.” He challenges you. Dabi slips off his t-shirt and moves between your legs to get a better view, pressing on your knees to split them apart.

Self-preservation kicks in. There is one way out of this alive and that’s doing what he says. You spread yourself even wider, showing him all of you. Your hands, glide over your smooth thighs, kneading the pudgy flesh as you get closer and closer your sex, teasing yourself the way he would.  Your fingers find your clit and just a little pressure makes your eyes melt shut. Probably for best anyway. It makes it easier to imagine anything but this. You drag those fingers through your delicate folds, letting out breathy sighs as heat begins to bloom between your thighs.

You pretend, its Dabi’s touch. In your mind’s eye you see the two of you, limbs tangled with Dabi on top, resting his forehead against yours. It’s one of those nights where he wants to go slow. So slow that the sensation of his cock dragging in and out of is you bordering on torturous. It’s one of those nights where he wants to lay his head on your chest, mouthing at your breasts, laving your nipples with his wet tongue while you tell him, in that sensual voice  that you love him, that he’s perfect, that he’s yours.  Because it’s one of those nights, where everything feels like too much for him and the only person that he really has on his side is you.

It’s not long before you’re leaking. Somewhere, deep in the back of your mind, there’s a voice chastising you for being so easy for him… even now. There’s almost no resistance as two of your fingers, press into your entrance. Your fingers are no match for Dabi’s, they never hit all those deep, hidden spots  that make you see stars but still, you start to move them slowly, brushing your thumb over your clit every so often.

“Look at me.” You feel his breath waft over your pussy.

Eyelids fluttering open and you meet his gaze. It stuns you a little and your hands come to a standstill. He is handsome, breathtakingly so, even though he thinks you’re lying whenever you when you tell him that. The way he stares at you, with love and adoration in his eyes, it’s almost like the fantasy you were just imagining. Almost like the fantasy you’ve been living in this whole time. It’s enough to make you forget the situation you’re in. Then the muzzle of the gun is pressed to your clit, snapping you back to reality fast enough to give you whiplash.

“Fucking slut.” He growls and smacks your hand away from your pussy.

You jerk as he starts to move it the gun circles over your sensitive nub and then dipping down to your tight slit to gather up your juices.

“All those fuckin’ tears but look how wet you are.” He says more to himself than you as he admires the way your slick leaves a sheen on the barrel. With his eyes trained directly on yours, his perfectly pink tongue pokes out to lick it clean, groaning at the taste.

The next thing you know his arms are wrapped around your legs, guiding them over his broad shoulders. He kisses you on your mons before his tongue begins greedily lapping at your hole. “Tastes so good doll.” He mutters with his nose pressed against your clit. He slips the wet muscle inside of you making you whine.  You reflexively grab onto his black hair, tugging on the stands and he lets out a groan of approval. He moves up to your clit, circling it with his tongue before suckling on it. While he brushes just the tip of a finger over your cunt, making it clench around nothing while you desperately buck your hips, in an attempt to have it inside you.

The way he’s eating you out is almost romantic?

Or it would be, if it weren’t for the metal digging into your flesh.

“Doll,” He places a sloppy kiss on your clit, lighting dragging his teeth over the hood. “Want you to squirt for me.”

A lump forms in your throat. You can count on one hand the amount of times that has happened. You’re not sure of the odds that you’d be able to right now and it’s not a gamble you’re willing to take. “Dabi, I don’t think I can….”

CLICK

You thrash, screaming so loud it makes your throat burn.

Dabi still holds you open, keeping you in place. “I wasn’t asking.” He makes sure to maintain eye contact as he drops a fat glob of spit right on to your clit before diving face first into your cunt once again.

He pushes 2 of his long, lithe fingers into your tight entrance. It’s unexpected and you wince. He drags his right hand (the one holding the gun) up your torso, resting the muzzle underneath your breast, right over your racing heart. A reminder of what’s at stake. He envelopes your sensitive clit with his lips, moving his fingers in tandem with the suction. You’re consumed by desire as Dabi brings you so close to the edge.

“Dee-Deeper please.” Your pant out.

He smiles against your mound before complying with your request. “Right here?” His fingers press against that squishy patch deep inside you and your eyes roll back.

“Nnnggg yeah.” You’re barely able to mewl out. You dig your heels into his back and grind against his face, chasing your high. Dabi keeps hitting that spot with astonishing precision but you hold off for as long as you can, letting the pleasurable sensation build until the pressure in your core becomes unbearable. When it finally snaps because you can’t hold it anymore, your eyes squeeze shut, hands flying to his biceps and you dig your nails into the sinewy muscle. You gush around his fingers and all over his face. Dabi doesn’t move though, flicking your clit with his tongue repeatedly until you’re trembling and whimpering, pushing him away from your pussy. He finally relents, a pop echoing around the room as he lets go of you.

He gives you a predatory look, scared face and chest wet with the remnants of your orgasm. “You made such a mess baby but I’m glad you’re finally having fun.” He’s just as out of breath as you are but far more composed.

Your head is still fuzzy and limbs are still twitching but your boyfriend doesn’t let you recover. “C’mon, doll. My turn.” He begins to undo his belt, silver buckle clinking as he rushes to drag it through the loops of his jeans

You pull yourself on to all fours, now eye level with his crotch. He pulls down his pants and boxers in one go, his erection almost hitting you in the face.

“You’ve been lucky so far.” He taps the bulbous head of his cock on your lips, smearing your lips with the pre that dribbles out of it. “But I wouldn’t test it if I were you. Open.”

Your mouth is already watering at the sight of him. So long, thick and veiny. It’s disgusting actually, this Pavlovian response. He fucks you deeper, stretches you wider and makes you feel better than anyone ever had. You wonder briefly, if anyone ever could fuck you as good as Dabi.

You stick out your tongue and he slides himself between your lips, groaning as he pushes into your mouth, slowly, inch by inch. He fills your mouth completely and you shut your eyes, savouring the salty taste of him but you feel the muzzle press against your temple and making them shoot open. “Atta girl. Lemme see those pretty eyes.” He grunts as he plunges into your throat. You bob your head up and down his shaft, the hand at the back of your head setting a brutal pace. The room is filled with the sounds of you gagging and his hefty sac smacking against your chin.

“So good to me baby.” He tilts his head back, losing himself in the pleasure. The wet heat of your mouth surrounding him while your saliva leaks out, dripping down his balls. Dabi is big and heavy, stretching you so wide and making you jaw ache from the weight of him. You’re already lightheaded from the lack of air, no matter how much you try breathing through your nose. You don’t dare to complain though.

He pulls out of your mouth slowly, stretching a string of saliva from the head of his dick to your tongue that’s hanging out of your mouth. You pant like a bitch attempting to catch your breath. He doesn’t give you much time before he’s in your throat again, back to fucking your face.

“I love you so much. You love me?” He sounds so sweet, totally blissed out.

He stops thrusting and tilts your head up to look at him, blinking tear-clumped lashes. You try utter a ‘Yes, I love you.’ but with his shaft gagging you, it comes out all garbled. The muscles in your throat convulse around the deep intrusion. “You’d do anything for me right?” He asks, jabbing the muzzle even harder into your temple, finger resting lightly on the trigger. You nod, watching Dabi lose his composure bit by bit. “Yeah. That’s why you’re my girl.” He pushes himself even deeper inside you, making you finally take all of him, until your nose meets his pubic hair and holding you there. “Fuck.”

CLICK

“Hmmhhhhngggh” You squeal around him but you can’t pull off because of the grip he has on your scalp. When he lets you go you’re choking and coughing up a lewd mixture of spit and pre-cum.

“Wh- Why” You blubber, voice hoarse. You don’t understand. You were doing exactly what he asked. You were being good.

“Sorry baby. Felt so good, my finger slipped.” He doesn’t even try to hide his mischievous smirk. The fucker is definitely not sorry.

You want to beg him to stop this ridiculous game because you see now there’s no way you can win because Dabi doesn’t play fair.

He doesn��t give you the chance though, already shuffling off his bottoms all the way and propping himself up against the headboard. “C’mon pretty baby.” He tugs on your ankle.  Wanna see you bounce on my dick.”

You clumsily position yourself atop his lap quickly, before you can even think about it. You know he doesn’t need a reason to pull that trigger but still, you don’t want to give him one.

He grinds his tip along your heat, piercings dragging across your clit over and over again. It’s something he does whenever you have sex, to rile you up. And just like all those other times, it’s working. Circumstances be damned. “Needa feel this hot little pussy. Give it to me doll.” He murmurs against the shell of your ear.

You nod as you lift yourself off of him to hover your dripping wet hole over his hard dick. You slowly squat down on onto him, the fat head stretching you out, burning with every inch you take. You mewl, making futile attempts to blink away tears. You get halfway before you have to stop, resting your hands on his shoulders trying to gain leverage. You’re outright crying now, wet droplets landing on Dabi’s chest.

“’S matter doll.”

I’m terrified. You yell in your head but stay silent, choosing to focus on relaxing your ever-tightening hole in order to take more of him.

“Oh, I know.” He coos, voice dripping with condescension. “’S too big for your tiny cunny.” He leans forward to kiss away the salty tears. “But you can take it. I know you can.” He cups your jaw, stroking your cheek with a calloused thumb. “You can do it for me”

You start to move slowly up and down, using gravity to force more of his monstrous cock inside you with shallow movements. You really are trying your best but that’s apparently not good enough for Dabi and he lets you know that by pressing the barrel of the gun into your stomach. You freeze, horrified, more tears start falling from your eyes. You open your mouth to beg him to just give you a little time. You’re trying.

“Quit being a baby and just take it.” He says before you even get the chance.

“I’m trying Dabi, please just-“

CLICK

He cuts off your plea.  He’s not interested in your excuses.

The rotation of the cylinder sends vibrations through your abdomen. Amidst the shock, you release your grip on his shoulders and impale yourself on his shaft by mistake. The combination of the searing stretch and the blunt head of his cock kissing your cervix is so overwhelming that you collapse forward, head falling on to your boyfriend’s chest. You feel the rumbles of his chuckles while he’s quite literally splitting you open.

“See? Knew you could. Just needed a little scare. Isn’t that right.” He rubs your back as if to comfort you. He lets out a low whistle. “But looks like you’re all out of chances doll. Now bounce.” He gives you a spank with an inhumanly warm hand, making you squeal and leaving your cheek tender.  

Your hands find purchase on his shoulders again. Dabi’s sapphire eyes are practically glowing, daring you to be stupid enough to defy him one more time.

You pull off almost entirely, keeping just his tip inside of you, before spearing his shaft into you again.

“Good girl.” When he praises you with that raspy voice makes you keen and desperate for more of it.

His hand snakes its way up your torso to cup one of your breasts. Your back arches, pushing into his scorching hot touch, forgetting momentarily about his other hand and what he’s holding in it.  He gropes your chest, tweaks and twists at your nipples, leaving red, inflamed hand prints in his wake. You’re practically delirious with pleasure, babbling out incoherent streams of his name along with “yes” and “more”.  All the while, he murmurs praises about how good you are and how much he loves you. It’s confusing and you can’t process any of it.

“Who owns this perfect pussy?”

“Dabi. Fuck. Dabi.” Your tongue lolls out of your mouth in the most obscene way, drooling down your chin. Your plush walls pulse around him as he hits that sensitive spot every time you sink down on him.

“That’s right it’s all fuckin mine. My pretty baby.” Dabi’s eyes are focus on where your two bodies are connected watching the translucent ring of your cream appear and disappear as you ride him.

“Preeeettyyy.” You slur and he laughs at how fucked out you are, brain completely jumbled between the fear, the pain and the bliss all combined into ecstasy.

“Doll.” He groans. “I feel ya squeezin’ me. You gonna cum?”

He’s right. You nod as you feel that coil tightening again, threatening to snap at any second. The man finally starts putting in work, pounding into you every time you pull off of him. Dabi abandons the gun in favour of playing with your clit, rubbing quick sloppy circles. “Yeah? Gonna cream and gush around me? Want you to baby.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck, sucking, biting and licking while he assaults your sopping wet pussy. “C’mon doll, please.”

With that you orgasm. He grabs your hips pulling you flush against his thighs, fucking you through your orgasm, rolling his hips up into you until your high finally subsides.

He doesn’t let you catch your breath before he’s got the revolver pressed hard underneath your chin. “Now make me cum.” You almost collapse but the harsh grip he has on your hair suspends you upright.

Your mind is so foggy and Dabi gives you a small smile, appreciating the perplexed look in your droopy eyes. But he’s not done with you yet.

“Hey.” You’re ripped from your daze, when he slaps you across the face, sending your head swinging to the side. “Don’t pass out on me now.”  

“So-sorry! ‘M sorry!” You grovel as you slam your tired body down on his dick once again, trying to ignore the throbbing on your cheek, the ringing in your ears, and the ache in your battered cunt.  You’re so sensitive from your last orgasm but you don’t have a choice and you don’t dare deny him anything. Your thighs are quaking and burning with every movement but your boyfriend is unimpressed.

“You can do better than that doll.” He lets out a bitter laugh, enjoying every second of tormenting you. “It’s like you want your brains splattered on the ceiling.”

You start crying again, shaking your head frantically. In the time that you’ve been with Dabi, you’ve learned certain tricks, you know he likes it, but in this panic/lust induced frenzy, you can’t remember any of them. Instead, you bounce, mindlessly on him while your gummy walls clench tighter around him every time he nudges at your a-spot. Your legs are going numb from all the effort and you plop down, limp onto his lap, taking him to the hilt.

Dabi tsks at you, reminding you that you can’t rest just yet. You swivel your hips, grinding your pelvis against his while he’s buried deep in your wet heat. You pray to whatever deity is listening that he’s getting close, you’re not sure how much more you can take.

“If I don’t bust in the next 5 seconds.” His hand finds your clit again, you grind across his fingers has you rock against him. “Bang!” He emphasises the word by bringing a heated palm down on your ass.

A choked sob bubbles at the back of your throat, making him snicker

Hands pressed to his chest, you ride him like a woman possessed, the last bits of adrenaline kicking in. Your sloppy cunt squelches every time you drive yourself down on his cock just motivating you to fuck him harder.

“Five.” He grits out.

“Dabi, please!” But you’re met with icy, apathetic eyes staring back at you, feeling the terror that the rest of the city does when they so much as hear his name.

“Four.” He rubs your already raw clit, faster and you can feel another orgasm building, much quicker than your last two.

Your body feels so heavy but you can’t stop moving, not unless you want him to- “Please cum!” You beg. “Need your cum.”

“Three.”

He starts to fuck up into you again with unforgiving force.

“Wh-Why?!” is all you can manage as your mind starts to fog up again, the need to come becoming all the more urgent.

“Two.” He ignores your question, transfixed on your tits bounce in his face. You’re getting close to your third orgasm of the night and it seems Dabi is determined to get you there.

You still can’t believe this is real. You never thought that Dabi would treat you like this. You were supposed to be special.

Or at least that’s what he told you.

Moreover, you can’t believe how your own body is betraying you. You can’t believe you’re actually going to cum. Again.

“One.”

You cry out his name one last time, unsure if it’s out of fear or pleasure. You dig your nails into his arms again, in a feeble attempt to ground yourself as you cum around him. The orgasm that rips through you makes it difficult for you to be sure of anything.

What you are sure of is the fact that there was no bang or bullet.

Just one last CLICK (practically drowned out by your screaming) and the sensation of Dabi’s hot cum flooding your womb. He has a bruising grip on your hips, gun now discarded, and he ruts up into to making sure to stuff your cunt absolutely full of him. He begins to laugh as he softens inside you.

Your head is still spinning but once you’re able to push yourself off of him, you can finally make sense of what just happened.

He was fucking with you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You yell, using weak and quivering arms to throw pillows at him while you cry so hard it makes you dry heave.

Your asshole of a boyfriend starts cackling, clutching his abdomen as if he just pulled the world’s funniest prank while your heart is beating so hard and fast you think it might break through your ribcage.

“You should have seen your face. You were so fuckin’ scared.”

You become nauseous, feeling bile rising in your throat as you come to a sickening realisation.

This is not your Dabi. This is the Dabi that the rest of the world gets to see.

Evil, sadistic, merciless. This is the real Dabi.

You attempt to scramble off of the bed to get away from him, feeling overwhelmed by the humiliation. But Dabi grabs your wrist and yanks you into his chest, wrapping you up in his arms. A gesture you used to treasure but now it just made your skin crawl. “C’mon Doll you didn’t think I was being serious did you?”

You writhe in his hold, hitting against his hard, toned chest with pathetic fists. “Don’t be such a crybaby. It was just a joke.” He strokes your hair oh so tenderly. But you won’t fall for that again. Dabi is a villain through and through. You know that now.  

It’s no use fighting him off though, all the fight in you is used up. You don’t know what else to do. So you do the easy thing: nuzzle your head into his chest, tremors rocking your body as you hiccup, while he holds you. That way you can pretend that you feel safe with him, just like you used to.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, doll. I love you.”

[shealolz]

HIGH ENOUGH - DABI/TODOROKI TOUYA

warnings & notes: branding skin, mild blood, swearing, guns, creampie

summary: dabi & y/n have seggs. it's that simple. or is it?

genre: smut/nsfw

Dabi/Todoroki Touya x Female League of Villains Member

word count: 2,483

----

your hand rested on Tomura's arm, the man's flaky skin shuddering beneath your feather-light touch.

it would've been an innocent gesture to everyone but you, Tomura, or him.

a light blush covered his cheeks as you stood behind him, maybe a little too close.

of course, nobody would see your hips rocking against his ass and the breathy hitched gasps from his mouth.

they were all too concerned with their own villain agendas.

and also maybe the fact that Dabi was literally smoking from his staples.

so maybe you were grinding on your boss who you were friends with benefits all the while being fucking his second in command.

nothing wrong with that, right?

"y/n-" Tomura hissed. "What do you think you're doing?"

"pleasuring you boss. why? do you wish for me to stop?" you whispered into his ear, chuckling lightly.

"during our biggest meet-up? yes, I do." Tomura said more steadily only for a whimper to leave his lips.

"aw. it seemed like you liked it." you pouted, detaching from his back to stand next to him. "guess I'm not good enough, huh?"

"what?" he asked like the idea was atrocious. "no, no- you're fine, your wonderful y/n but just not right now."

something swelled in your gut, a certain heat.

so you had a minor praise kink, nothing to be ashamed about.

you smirked and turned to face him. "then I hope you don't mind if maybe this weekend we could meet up."

a manicured grip wrapped around his wrist, your manicured grip.

"Yeah I don't mind just don't be earlier than ten." he sighed.

"good, now if you don't mind I have downfalls to plot." you breathe out, going to your given workspace as you tie the apron around your waist.

you head for your table, your nails tapping against the wood as you map out certain alleyways.

sure the heat in your gut that made your pussy pulse wouldn't leave, that was the whole reason you were trying to get into Tomura's pants, but you could deal.

you had worse anyway.

once some dude edged you on till you were about to orgasm then left you to fucking make eggs.

to put it simply after fingering yourself till you cummed you broke the relationship.

if it could be called one. the two of you really just fucked each other till you were tired.

nothing special.

two hands slammed down next to you and a body pressed against you.

the smell of ash infiltrated your nose.

"what the fuck did you think you were doing with Tomura? I thought you were mine." Dabi growled into your ear.

you smiled a bit and wiped your chalk-covered hands on your jeans. "I dont know what you're talking about." you feign innocence.

his hand grabs your jaw to turn to face him, metal biting into your skin.

"I'm not blind like the others. don't think I didn't see you grinding on his pathetic ass." he snarls.

you shrug. "What can I say? people who melt in my palms intrigue me."

"oh? I don't think I do that, princess." Dabi huffs, letting go of your jaw.

you look down at the chalky mess in front of you and let out a silent breath.

the staring and eye contact had gotten to you and your panties were growing wetter by the second.

"if anything your melting in my palms," Dabi mutters, grabbing your forearm and pulling you away.

"Where are we going now?" you prompt.

"you'll see," he replies shortly.

letting him sit you in his car your hands run over the leather.

sure the League wasn't driving around in Spinner's beat-up van now that the Paranormal Liberation Front was around but the car still never ceased to amaze you.

he climbed into the front seat and adjusted the gear stick and pulled out from the building's parking lot.

there was a gun tucked into his pants.

to avoid showing your curiosity you looked out the window.

"I can see your legs trembling." he sang lightly as he made a sharp turn.

"can you? why don't you fix that then?" you shot back.

"hm? did you want me to bend you over that table and shove my dick into you?" he chuckled, the wind rustling his hair.

"it'd be embarrassing but quicker." you hum.

"calm your tits dollface we'll be there soon."

he drove into a parking garage, one known for being empty.

Dabi didn't stop till he got to the roof of the garage then he parked the car.

unbuckling his seat belt he reclined his chair back a bit.

you shimmied out of your jeans, already preparing for what was about to come.

"I think you know what to do?" he acknowledged.

"yes, I do." you agreed, climbing over the mechanics of the car to sit in the area between the wheel and Dabi's sit.

removing the gun Dabi waved it in your face, making sure you knew it was there.

he wouldn't be merciless if he didn't like it.

from your view, he seemed majestic.

the black cloudy skin in the backdrop, rumbling with thunder, the blue lighting of the car, his spiked belt, and wind tousled hair.

so similar to a god.

one of death.

your life was in his hands.

slowly your hands undid the belt, moving it to the side where you previously sat.

you unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down to his feet to reveal plain black boxers.

Dabi's boner wasn't full-blown but it was still there.

it seemed he got pleasure from looking down on you.

you can let him have this one, you can be his plaything today.

fingers looping into the boxers you pulled them down along with his pants.

his cock seemed to jump out at you and you stared at it.

"it's big." you blinked.

"you're acting like you haven't seen it before." Dabi drawled.

your hands gripped his thighs, nails digging into surprisingly soft skin.

beads of blood rose and slipped under your fingernails.

your lips wrapped around the tip, your tongue slipping under and dragging against it.

Dabi rested his head back, his tense posture loosening greatly.

"fuck, I forgot how good you are." he groaned.

the two of you hadn't done anything major in a while, just a couple of heated make-outs nothing more.

with the war rising after all there wasn't a lot of time to do that kind of shit.

tongue wrapping around his dick one hand wrapped around the area connecting to his hips and pumped slowly.

another groan as Dabi's hand found its way in your hair.

"c'mon princess, you can do better. I know you can." he purred, lidded turquoise eyes gazing down at you.

you squinted at him but nodded and sucked on his dick harder.

you were into it after all.

teeth nipped at the slit slightly before pouty pink lips pressed a kiss to it.

you swallowed as you pulled back, a trail of saliva connecting your mouth and Dabi's dick.

letting yourself breathe a bit, you went back in.

his dick slammed against the back of your throat and you didn't mind.

the way his deep moans bubbled from his chest and his grip tightened in your hair were worth it.

choking slightly you sucked, bobbing your head back and forth.

his nails scratch against your scalp, tugging harshly.

without a warning Dabi orgasms, the creamy liquid flowing down your throat and into your stomach.

his semen is at the corner of your lips along with a shit ton of saliva when you pull back.

"asshole could've told me you were finishing." you glare up at him.

he smirks. "that would've ruined the fun of it."

rolling your eyes you push his seat back to recline fully.

"so you wanna be the dominant one now?" he prompts, placing his hands on your hips as your straddle him.

"not really, I just want your dick." you deadpan.

he chuckles and rubs at your hipbones. "Whatever you say, princess."

his dick was already out and hard, his jacket wasn't on in the first place so he was just in his oversized white button-up.

you only had your panties and your bra left so you were almost closed to a state of undressing.

looking up at him you then glanced at your pussy so he would get the hint.

"damn thought I could watch you masturbate, gotta do all the work myself huh?" he huffed.

his finger sneaked under your underwear till they were tugged down.

Dabi frowned. "this won't do."

his finger lights aflame and you blink at the new idea.

your underwear burn to ash and the blue flame goes back. "better."

swiftly you grip his hand.

he looks up at you with a raised eyebrow.

you lean forward so you two were eye to eye.

"turn on your quirk," you order, your hot breath ghosting over his cheeks.

"Oh?" he questions but his finger flames again.

you bring it closer to your inner thigh and you see his breath hitch as he sits up a bit.

"Are you sure?" he asks.

you nod steadily.

he lets out a breath and lays back down, the flame never flickering as you slowly let go.

his other hand grabbed at your thigh, squishing the soft skin between his hands as he starts to brand your other thigh.

your nails dig into the leather of the seats as you bite down on your lip, the metallic taste of blood soon entering your mouth.

a moan leaves your mouth though as your lips stain red.

though it was painful the joy you felt as you were marked as Dabi's made your heart swell.

why did you like the feeling so god damn much?

the flame disappears and you glance at your thigh.

'𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐘𝐀'

"T-Touya?" you stutter out as you pant heavily.

"my name, the birth one," he replies.

you smile at him and press a kiss to his lips which he reciprocates.

"well it's a beautiful one," you whisper against his lips.

you could hear the amused chuckle.

his hand sneaks onto your thigh and rubs at the burn lightly, gaining a whine.

slowly his hand creeps for your vagina and he massages the skin.

soft moans leave your voice box. "a-ah!"

his smirk widened as he adjusts you so his fingers are facing your vagina.

you lower yourself onto him as his fingers pushed through your folds and into you.

the steel of his staples is cold compared to the muscle inside you as Dabi shifts around.

a gasp leaves your lips as your hands gripped onto the leather seats tighter.

then your phone rang.

turquoise eyes looked at you curiously. "Answer it."

you swallow and pat around for your phone, finding it in the passenger's seat.

" 'COCK FACE' IS CALLING "

you press the answer button and place it against your ear.

"eh? y/n? you there?"

Hawks.

"y-yup," you say hesitantly.

"so, you wanna meet later tonight? maybe a couple of rounds?" Hawks suggests and you can hear the pure arrogance through the phone.

he was fucking high.

"why'd you only ever c-call me when your high?" you scoff, pausing briefly when Dabi thrusts his fingers into you rather roughly.

"high?" Hawks echoes only to be cut off when you hung up.

you threw the phone back into the passenger seat and attached your lips to Dabi's scarred neck.

"Who was that?" he groans out, his hips bucking up.

"Hawks," you reply as you bite into his shoulder.

he lets out a moan and turns his head to you.

"so you're just fucking everyone you meet?"

"only the attractive ones."

he snorts but wraps his arm around your waist to tug you closer as his fingers thrust into you harder.

Dabi's fingers move around in a scissoring motion, hitting both sides of you.

your teeth puncture his skin and his grip on you tightens as he pushes his fingers in deeper.

"p-please just f-fuck me!" you cry out.

"you think your ready, dollface?" he hums.

you nod vigorously, turning to face him with desperate eyes.

"if you insist."

he takes his hand out of you and his arm slides from your waist as he picks up his dick.

the boner was fucking big.

how the hell was that supposed to fit in you?

he flips your positions, you now on the bottom as your boobs bounce in their bra by the force.

Dabi lines his dick with your entrance before shoving it in you.

you grip onto his sides with shaky hands as he lets you adjust to his size.

while he waits his hands slide under your shirt and bra and begin to squeeze at your boobs.

"ngh." you mewl. "m-move."

"Your wish is my command." he teased but started to pull out before thrusting back in.

you gasped and your hips bucked forward only to be stopped by his other hand.

"patience love," he mumbles.

he rubbed at your nipple, squeezing your breast, and pressing down onto the skin.

eventually, he just lifted the whole shirt off you and began to suck at the skin all the while thrusting into you.

moans and gasps fell from your lips.

"ah!" "ngh." "h-huh!"

tears pricked at your eyes from the pleasure, it was too much.

your legs were trembling again, signaling a nearby orgasm as Dabi thrust in even harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin sounding through the car.

soon enough your orgasm squirted all over him and he finished into you.

as he pulled out he smiled when looking at your whole.

"d-did you have to cum inside?" you whine.

"what? the cum running out of you looks pretty." he shrugged as he pulled the seat back up.

your legs hit the floor and you sat there, watching the world spin for a second.

then you climbed back into the passenger's seat and began to put on your clothes.

when your shirt was halfway on something cold pressed against your temple.

the gun from earlier.

"did you not like it?" you ask, buttoning your blouse.

you weren't exactly afraid. if you were to die Shigaraki would probably get mad at Dabi and that'd be funny to watch from hell.

"Nah, I enjoyed it, just liked to watch you squirm." he puts the gun back into the glovebox.

he was already dressed, his pants and boxers were put back on and his belt was draped lazily over his hips.

the moon was out indicating you'd been gone for a while.

you licked at your lips as Dabi began to go down the ramps back onto the main street.

"tonight was surely interesting," you say dryly.

"When have things ever been uninteresting with me around?" he joked.

things with Dabi were nice.

even if it was just meaningless and bored sex.

[moonbeamwritings]

of salt water and curious gazes

Summary: Following your grandmother’s death, her seaside home fell into your care, deemed the only one she could picture inhabiting it. Things were simple enough, tending to the garden and making frequent trips to the beach as you adjusted to life in the small town. It all changed, however, when you spent a night under the full moon with a rather peculiar blue eyed companion. (Merperson AU)

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! This is definitely different from what I usually post, but I hope you guys are just as interested as I am! Let me know what you think! Also, buckle up! This is a long one and might end up being a part one 🤪

sequel: “of salt water and loving gazes”

Your grandmother’s home had always been your safe space, a place in which you were free to run around and spend your time as you saw fit. After her death though, it seemed as if all of the joy had been sucked out of the small, seaside cottage. Your heart broke just a little bit more as you turned down the all-too-familiar street and pulled into her, now your, driveway.

She’d left the house to you, explaining that she could see no one else living there but you. You had been itching for change, growing tired of the hustle and bustle of your daily life, so perhaps with fate’s guiding hand you would find solace along the shoreline, in your happy place. I know you’ll treat it well, the letter she had left assured you. P.S. The ocean works wonders for the soul. Don’t forget that. 

You gripped the steering wheel as you stared at the front of the house through the windshield. It was just as you remembered, bright blue hydrangeas dotted the garden, flowers fat and stems long, the doormat was perfectly centered, the mailbox the same faded green as it had always been.

With one final sigh, you willed yourself out of the car, keys jingling in your hands as you went. The house was much quieter now, lacking the bubbles of laughter and soft music that were staples of your childhood visits. The sweet smell of baked goods no longer wafted through the kitchen, her shoes no longer resting by the door. Most of her belongings had already been cleared out, handed off to friends and family, but what was left was yours. The house was yours. The thought that what once belonged to her was now left entirely in your care made your heart swell with both sadness and pride. You would make the best of this, if not for yourself, then for your dear grandmother.

Unloading your car was simple enough, taking only an afternoon to get everything completely organized. That night, you watched the sunset from the back porch, warm mug in hand as you looked out at the seemingly endless sea. Your eyes drooped as the vibrant colors of the sun were replaced by the pale yellow light of the moon.

Adjusting to life in the quaint little town was difficult. The townspeople who had known your grandma could only seem to muster pitying glances when they saw you out and about, treading lightly as they asked about you and your move. You stuck to the house most days to avoid them, cleaning things up and shifting things around.

Something about the beach had an uneasy feeling settling in your stomach though. As you traveled down the path, a bag slung over your shoulder and a towel in hand, you couldn’t help but feel eyes on you, carefully tracking your every move.

Your grandmother’s neighbors were kind and friendly, no doubt willing to approach you if they were to see you sitting out. The beach itself was private, reserved for residents like yourself, so it’s not like wandering strangers lingered about. This feeling was different. It was as if the waves themselves were peering back at you, just as mesmerized by you as you were with them.

One day as you munched on a sandwich, legs pulled close to your chest as you stared out at the ocean, you could’ve sworn you saw curious blue eyes staring back. You stopped going to the beach for a few days after that.

The morning you finally returned to the beach left much to be desired. The beautiful blue sky and relaxing ebb and flow of the waves were replaced by thick fog and dark gray skies, waves rocking against the shore with more force. You had no idea what had compelled you to make the trek down to the beach that morning, but you had felt as though you were being pulled there, tugged along by a thin red thread, like you were supposed to be there.

The wind bit at your face as it rustled the fabric of your coat. You were thankful that it had yet to kick sand up into your eyes. As the water sloshed against your bare ankles, you could barely see three feet in front of you, fog completely obscuring the horizon. Your grandmother’s voice sounded in the back of your head, “I know you don’t like the beach when it’s foggy, but I’ll have you know, I’ve seen some of the cutest seals on days just like this one.”

Deciding that the waves weren’t as bad as you had expected and wanting to know if her words would ring true, you ventured down the jetty, carefully calculating each step so as not to stumble. 

On your way down the jetty, you caught sight of a familiar pair of blue eyes, just barely visible over the surface of the water. Why would someone be out swimming in conditions like these? Eyes scanning what little area you could see, you halted all movements, eagerly waiting for the person to resurface. Were you imagining things? Soon enough, a head popped out of the water, showing off broad shoulders, black hair, and… Was that a star tattoo?

Raising your voice to be heard over the wind, you called out, “Hey, dude! It’s not safe to be out swimming with all this fog! I’ve heard there have been sharks in the area recently!”

The person wheeled around at the sound of your voice, eyes widening in surprise. You watched as his mouth opened and closed, but no response came. Before you could get another warning in, he was dipping back below the surface, disappearing into the murky water. Without thinking, your feet carried you to the very tip of the jetty, searching for any sign of the solitary swimmer.

“Hello!? Hello!? Is anyone out there?”

You felt crazy as your head swiveled back and forth, ears tuning in to the gentle way the waves struck the rocks. It was quiet, deathly so. Was that just another trick of the eye? A manifestation of the loneliness you’d felt in your little seaside dwelling? The result of feeling like you were being watched for the past few weeks? You couldn’t tell.

You’d seen those eyes before, you’d assured yourself as you walked back to the sand, right? Surely they were the same ones you’d encountered during early morning sunrises or all the lunchtime meals you’d eaten on the beach. They were too familiar to be nothing more than a host of different, swimming strangers.

After the whole incident, you kept a close watch on those around you when you went into the grocery store and the other local shops. Did anyone’s eyes match that deep, unrelenting turquoise? Did anyone have that star tattoo on the back of their shoulder? You searched high and low, but reached no feasible conclusions, no answers that allowed you to sleep better at night.

In one of your more desperate late-night deep dives, no pun intended, you toyed with the idea that perhaps you’d seen some sort of siren, a merperson exploring the waters near your home. The melodrama of Twilight’s Bella Swan frantically searching the internet for answers to her vampiric questions flashed through your mind. You laughed out loud at the thought. That would not be you.

Weeks went by and things returned to relative normalcy. You still occasionally felt curious eyes on you, but you hadn’t seen any flashes of blue since that foggy morning. You ate your lunch, you cleared your head, all without any distractions from the mysterious man.

Your mind raced as you watched the sunset from your kitchen window, suds covering your hands while you worked a sponge over the dirty dishes in your sink. Earlier in the day, you’d received a phone call from a friend, essentially admonishing you for your move to your grandmother’s old house. They had completely ignored your feelings, only working from their own experiences as they ranted and raved. The call left you feeling drained and desperate to get down to the beach. Maybe dipping your toes into the salty water while you watched the full moon rise would ease the ache in your heart.

Pulling an oversized hoodie over your head, you made the walk down to the beach, taking your time to look for shells and sea glass as you went. Having no luck, you moved down the jetty, a pep in your step as you hopped from one rock to the other. At the end, you carefully shuffled out of your shoes before sitting down to let your feet and calves slip into the cool, dark water.

The moonlight left the ocean in front of you sparkling, like the stars themselves had fallen into the sea, shining brightly as they bobbed with the waves. You were thankful you had the beach to yourself.

To release some of your energy, you began swishing your feet back and forth beneath the surface, relishing in the soft movement of the water against your skin. Losing yourself in your thoughts, you’d hardly realized you were being watched until you heard the gentle sloshing of water off to your right, ripples traveling up against your legs.

You snapped your head away from the moon, scanning the glassy surface all around you. Your eyes widened, breath hitching in your throat when you finally saw them. 

Blue eyes.

“You.”

The stranger’s eyes mirrored yours as you stared at one another. The droplets of water caught the light of the moon, bathing the man in the rolling starlight of the sea. Your heart fluttered.

“What the hell are you doing? Have you not heard about all of the shark sightings or do you just not care? Night swimming like that is so stupid.”

He waded closer, still beyond arm’s reach, but inching closer with the movement of the waves.

“I don’t need to worry about sharks.”

“What are you? Some kind of whisperer?”

He examined you carefully, mouth dipping below the surface only to reappear as he replied, “You could say that.”

The man’s body was entirely submerged save for his head and shoulders. You eyed each other as silence fell, punctuated by the crashing of waves in the distance. With his eyes on you like this, you felt as if you were being stalked, kept under a watchful glare for any signs of weakness.

“You know,” you spoke, attempting to diffuse the tension, “you can come sit up here with me, if you want.”

“No, thank you.” His reply was immediate, but your words had him closing some more distance. The closer he came to the jetty, the more you realized just how large he was, all broad shoulders and defined muscle. Imposing.

His eyes flickered down to watch your feet where they moved in the water, head tilting curiously as he followed the exposed skin up to the curves of your knees, eyeing them too. It’s like he’s never seen them before, you thought.

You floundered thinking about any way to continue the conversation with the handsome stranger, to attempt to distract him from the gentle sway of your legs. With a wide sweep of your leg, you unconsciously sent your foot towards the stranger, but instead of skin meeting skin, your toes brushed against the rigid surface of scales.

Scales!?

Your eyes shot open as you yelped, scrambling to pull your feet from the water and up onto the jetty, “What the fuck was that?”

Your knee jerk reaction sent the man in front of you reeling back as well, splashing back below the surface of the waves.

Your mind spiraled, forcing you to through your own Twilight movie moment. It was as if all the pieces were steadily falling into place: always swimming at odd hours and in adverse conditions, never seeing him in town, being unfazed by the presence of sharks. 

Your heart pounded against your ribcage. He couldn’t be… Could he?

Throwing caution to the wind out of sheer desperation for answers, you gently placed your feet back into the water, calling out for your potential new companion. You waited for any sort of response, resolving to sit for hours if you had to. Unexpectedly, you saw his eyes breach the surface once again, keeping his distance.

“Hey,” you spoke, keeping your voice as soft as possible, beckoning him closer with a wave of your hand, “Come here.”

He swam up to you, positioning himself in front of you. The man looked almost… cute like this, eyes wide and cautious as he stared up at you from the water.

“So, are you, like, a merperson or something? A merman?”

He nodded in lieu of response.

“Can I see?”

It took a long moment for him to move, eyes locked on yours as he thought over your tone of voice. Finally nodding, he leaned back, treading water with his arms as he exposed his tail to you.

It was breathtaking, the full expanse of it decorated with deep purple, almost black scales, like he had entire galaxies trapped within each and every one. The fluke glittered, iridescent under the beams of the moon. You gasped at the sight.

“It’s beautiful.”

Without thinking, you brushed your fingertips along the fluke, taking in the smooth, silky texture. In an instant, his hand shot out and took your wrist in its grip, removing it from his tail. Your eyes widened at the action, fear taking hold of your lungs at the feeling of his pointed nails against your skin.

“That tickles,” he quietly told you, loosening his hold on your wrist. You could’ve sworn you saw his face flush at the admission.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” came his grumbled response.

You fell silent for a moment, mind still racing with the thoughts that you were actually in the presence of a merman, that your stupid midnight thoughts had actually been correct.

“Can you tell me your name?” You finally settled on asking, deciding that if this whole thing was going to continue beyond tonight, you should at least learn his name.

“It’s Jotaro.”

You parroted the name, testing it on your own lips, memorizing the sound. Jotaro placed your hand back in your lap, moving to place his elbows up on the rock beside you instead. “What’s yours?”

You shared your own name, smiling at his proximity. He followed your lead, repeating your name as he looked up at you.

You sat with Jotaro until your toes pruned, goosebumps rising on your skin as the night brought lower temperatures along with it. You smiled to yourself as you watched his eyes roam over the flesh, fascinated by your body’s reaction to the cold.

After shivering for what felt like the hundredth time, you bid Jotaro a goodnight, promising to meet him again the following night at around the same time. He nodded in response, sending one last, long look in your direction before disappearing back below the waves.

Curling your hands into the sleeves of your sweatshirt, you began the walk back to your home. The phone call with your friend had completely slipped your mind, instead replaced by the warm feeling Jotaro’s presence settled in your heart. With the scent of sea spray still lingering on your clothes, you washed the sand from your feet and turned in for the night. As you laid your head back against your pillows, you wondered if your grandmother had been right all along. Maybe the ocean truly did work wonders for the soul.

[newcaptainofsquad9]

Blackpink’s Reaction to their chubby girlfriend being insecure

Thank you @bighopenat165​ for requesting, I’m sorry this took so long and I hope you enjoy it! If anyone else has any requests for Blackpink, Twice, Red Velvet, and Dreamcatcher, please reach out. Hope you guys enjoy!

Jisoo

• Jisoo loved to go out to different restaurants with you while she was back in America, her favorites being the fast food that of course were staples of the country. 

• “Come on baby!” Jisoo said. “These burgers look soooo good! I finally learned how to use GrubHub thanks to Jennie!”

You slumped further into the couch as Jisoo took in your deflated expression. 

“What’s wrong Jagi?” she asked as she sat down beside you. 

“Could we order something else besides burgers?” you said. 

Jisoo pouted and whined. 

“But you love them jagi,” she groaned. “We had them on our first date when we met up in the states remember?” 

You nodded as your eyes casts down to the floor, your thumbs twirling. Your arms rested around yourself, how can you tell one of the prettiest women, that you’re too big for burgers right now? 

“Jagi, I know that look,” Jisoo said as she sat next to you with concern reflected in her face. “Tell me what’s wrong.” 

“It’s nothing,” you said. “You can go on and order the burgers, I don’t want any.”

“Then what else are you going to eat?” she asked. 

When you didn’t answer, Jisoo slid closer so that she was pressed against you. 

“You’re eating Y/N,” She declared. “Starving yourself isn’t going to help you lose weight. We’re talked about this.”

You nodded as she wrapped her arm around your shoulder. 

“I know, but seeing how thin you are and--”

Jisoo cut you off by placing her lips on yours, silencing you with a kiss. 

It was a bit intense; Jisoo pulled back to lean her forehead against yours.

“None of that talk, OK?” she said while she pecked your lips again. “You make me happy, no matter what size you are. Now what would you like?

Jennie

When Jennie surprised you at your apartment, you were overjoyed. She came baring gifts of Chanel and other luxury brands that you couldn’t even fathom of affording. 

“Y-You didn’t have to do this Jennie,” you said. 

Jennie frowned. 

“I had to Y/N,” Jennie said. “Now! I got us matching sweaters!”

Your nervous smile dropped from your face as Jennie pulled one of the over-sized Chanel sweatshirts from one of the bags. She noticed this of course and rushed to your side immediately. 

“Y/N?” she asked. 

“Y-You really didn’t have to,” you said. “It’s probably not even my size anyway.”

Jennie’s eyes softened. 

“Y/N, just try it on, please?” Jennie said. “I promise it’ll fit.”

You nodded numbly and took the sweater from Jennie. She helped you put it on, gently tugging it down your body as it fit quite baggy; a difference in some of the sweaters you actually owned. 

“I know you like them baggy, it was hard to find so I just decided to have it custom made for you,” Jennie said. 

Your lips  quiver as tears clung to your eyes. Jennie’s always been so considerate, but this act of love made your heart swell more. The affection just hit different.

Jennie took you into her arms, cooing while she rubbed down your back. 

“I love everything about you Y/N and I’m willing to get anything that I’ll make you comfortable,” she said, wiping the tears from your face.

Chaeyoung/Rosé    

You and Chaeyoung had been sitting in each other’s company for a few hours: she was playing a few songs on her guitar while you listened quietly and played Pokemon on your Switch. She stopped abruptly to gaze at you as she got up to place her guitar back in the corer of the room. 

“I was thinking about going by that Seafood place later, that sound cool with you?” she asked as she hugged you from behind. 

You hesitated, which she felt. 

“Come, Y/N. I remember how much you love shrimp, we’d get lots of it!”

“I’m not sure Chae,” you said. “I ate a bit too much earlier.” 

Chaeyoung sighed. 

“Y/N we’ve been in here for hours, even if you ate earlier you still need to eat again,” she explained. 

“But what if I get bigger?” you asked. “I’m huge compared to you.”

Chaeyoung frowned and took the Switch from your hands, tossed it on the bed before wrapping you in a tight hug. 

“You’re perfect, all right?” she said softly yet firm. “Haven’t I told you about being so negative to yourself?”

You melted against her and nodded, even though those same negative thoughts still swirled your head. 

“I-I know it’s hard, you know? With your fans and how they talk of me.”

Chaeyoung pulled back with a stern look. 

“They aren’t fans Y/N, they mean nothing to me and shouldn’t mean anything to you, ok?”

You nodded; she smiled brightly and pulled you in for a kiss. 

Lalisa/Lisa

  Lisa had just returned from a long afternoon of dance practices and recording for her mentor duties when she decided to come home with a bunch of food  for dinner, along with snacks for pre-cuddle/ pre-pillow talk. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you noticed how much fast food she brought, and so much sugary candy. 

“What’s wrong baby?” Lisa asked though a mouthful of fries. “Did I get the wrong sauces?” 

She searched through the bag of food vigorously until your favorite sauces fell out, forcing a sigh of relief from her. 

“That’s not it Lisa. It’s just that all of this is too many calories and it’s too late in the day for it,” you explained. “I’m keeping up with a diet.”

Lisa frowned. 

“It’s OK to have a cheat day babe,” she said as she rubbed down your arm. “Remember what I said?”

You nodded. 

“Yeah, I can’t starve myself. I need to eat and lose the weight healthfully.” 

Lisa nodded and kissed your forehead. 

“You can practice some of my dance routines with me,” she suggested. “I could use the help and I wouldn’t mind seeing you in something a bit revealing.”

Your face grew hot as you dug into your food and Lisa wiggled her eyebrows.    

[fandom-monium]

I JUST READ KITCHEN CATASTROPHES OMG ITS SOOO CUTE UGH MY HEART SO SOFT CAN YOU PLSSS DO A PART 2? THANK YOU KEEP DOING WHAT YOU DO

AN: thank you, anon! i dont plan to make a sequel to KC. But if i did:

For Valentine’s Day

Summary: In which you throw a wrench in Spencer’s plans: you don’t like Valentine’s Day. “If it’s with you, I guess it’s not so bad.”

WC: 2.9k (whoops)

Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fluff, cussing, semi anti-valentines day, Spencer tears up but dont worry were there to fix that, established relationships (blegh), Garvez if you squint, post-For the Holidays

Fuck cooking, Spencer thinks one day.

It's an irrational thought. The kind that strikes through his mind in a flash of irritation like a scrape of the knee as he is perusing the internet. Yes, he is using a computer willingly. He has to because he's desperate.

Cooking is stupid. Who really needs it, right?

…

He needs it. God, he needs it so bad.

His need to learn cooking wasn't as incessant until recently. Until you came along.

Spencer is a meticulous person and a romantic if you'd ever met one. Makes sense considering how he grew up, reading the classics and all that. He's read all the gooey literary shit old people write and while he never understood those meanings it all dawned on him one day. Quotes written like 'the stars in their eyes' and 'sunshine glowing off them like a halo', suddenly makes sense once he meets you. Or at least, after coming to know you, months into your newfound friendship.

It's because of this he plans accordingly the weeks leading up to Valentine's day! Because again he's meticulous and a romantic and a genius so he plans every step and makes a back up plan in case A, B, and C fall through.

Is he going overboard? 

… Nah. No way. Not when it comes to you.

But fuck with a capital F, man.

It's your third date. Or what is supposed to be your third date if you would just stop being you for a second.

Then again, he loves you a lot and he wouldn't love you if you weren't, well, you.

Although—pardon his french—what the fuck. 

Spencer knows he needs to learn to cook. You've tried plenty of times to teach him and he loves learning and he especially loves it when you are the teacher (wait, does he have a teacher/student fantasy? Maybe. That’s something he'll look into later. Preferably with you). 

Unfortunately, he's terrible at it.

He's made progress and he knows it's true because you said so but the miniscule progress he's made is. Not. Enough. And it's all your fault! Because he gets so distracted by you during your lessons, like when you put your hands over his to show him proper slicing techniques—holy fuck, he wanted to combust right there—or just watching your deft hands at work, lips and brow scrunched in concentration in that adorable way. And you smell like cooking oil or whatever you're making and you're hot.

He's so into you it physically hurts. Ugh. How is he so lucky? 

You're also the first person he's been this into since Maeve. And everyone knows how well that turned out.

So he tries to dial it down for Valentine’s Day. Morgan told him once he tends to throw himself into everything he does, including love. And when you two got together, he promised the universe he will not fuck this up. He ends up combining Morgan’s advice with Luke’s, trying to be casual like Luke says because apparently you're just as into him as he is of you. 

The thought makes him grin uncontrollably. Luke says it makes him look like a clown but a lovesick clown. A lovefool, Luke hehs.

Spencer doesn’t get the joke, but it does nothing to deter him.

As Luke advised, Spencer does “not” make a dozen back up plans and does “not" plan weeks in advance. Because that wouldn't be casual, would it?

But now the day’s come and as Valentine’s Day turns to Valentine’s Night, Spencer wants to pull his hair, rub his frustratedly stinging eyes but he can't because he's in the middle of work, in the middle of the bullpen, in the middle of his desk and he refuses to be that guy. Not again.

Why does he feel like sobbing? Like a loser? 

Because you don't like Valentine’s Day. No, you abhor it.

It happens in the middle of the work day. It's like he tried to open a door only for a bucket of ice water to be dumped on him and now he looks like a drowned rat. He definitely feels like one.

You're talking with Garcia about her Valentine’s Day plans as you multitask, switching between putting together packets and stacking them aside. Then taking them under the hole-puncher and stapling them together because the BAU isn't all kicking down doors and catching freaks. 

It makes sense that you’re chatting with Garcia during your break. The two of you have become two peas in a pod after you came out of your shell. Now you're inseparable. Only you make Garcia leave her batcave as much as she does now.

Out of sight, he catches tidbits of your conversation when he hears distinctively: Fuck Valentine’s Day.

Okay, you didn't say that verbatim but you might as well have, grimacing as you three hole-punch a packet and his heart. Then a nail on his coffin only it’s with a stapler. 

Thump. Chick.

Spencer winces; there goes your his Valentine’s Day plans. 

It shouldn't sting as much as it does. You've been dating for over a month and Valentine’s Day is definitely not his favorite holiday either. It's not even top 3. And as you rant he can’t help but silently nod in agreement, all the facts straight: yes, it's an eyesore. Yes, it's a capitalistic holiday. Yes, people should do nice things for their significant others no matter the time and not because it's expected on a specific day. Yes, it doesn't compare to Halloween—

The thing is, you two aren't that “couple-y”, at least in a traditional sense. Not like Will and JJ who got a babysitter so they could go out or like Luke and Garcia as they plan to go to a special Valentine’s Day event she wants to check out (she vehemently denies anything going on between them but he doesn't need to be a genius to see the affection they have for one another. Just kiss already, damn).

So yeah, Spencer hoped to spend the romantic holiday with you. For once, he'd have Valentine’s Day plans, aside from exchanging cards with the team and his mother.

But apparently you hate Valentine’s Day! So there goes plan A, B, C, and D!

Spencer feels the tears spring at the corner of his eyes. He sniffs as subtly as he can, raising an open case file to his face. Of all the plans he hadn't thought through this was not one of them. IQ 187, his ass.

He should've known. Or at least ask your thoughts on Valentine’s Day. That was inconsiderate on his part. He blinks back tears, withdrawing into himself despite his hurt because he is a lovefool and only for you. He just wants to impress you, make you happy even if that means canceling your first Valentine’s Day together.

Now if you'll excuse him, he has to call off a few reservations and make some returns. Several actually.

Can you return a dozen donuts in the shape of hearts?

… Yeah, he better ask Emily for the rest of the day off.

—

"Hey Newb, have you seen Spencer? I haven't seen him since his break," You ask, resting your chin in your hand as you squint at another form. Your eyes are beginning to tire. 

Spencer asked you several times over the course of the last week, checking to see if you were free today. You are, so you planned to hang with him after work, but he hasn't returned from his break and he wasn't answering your calls or texts. Not unusual but still odd for your boyfriend (you still can’t believe you get to say that).

Luke sighs, his smooth voice reaching over your shared divider, "You know at some point I'm just not going to respond. You guys can’t call me Newbie forever."

"Keep telling yourself that," You snort without looking up.

Another sigh and you smirk: you win.

"For your information," Luke grumbles, words punctuated with sass, "Doc went home."

You pause. "Home?" He didn't tell you.

"Yeah, probably to get ready for your date."

"Our date?" You frown and stand up, leaning over the divider to see if Luke’s fucking with you.

He isn't. Luke shrugs, humming wistfully as he rests his cheek in his hand, "You should've seen how excited he was, being it your first Valentine's Day and all. I told him to chill out because you'll love whatever it is no matter what but I'm sure he ignored that and planned something spectacular for you guys." Sitting back, he twirls around in his chair.

You grimace, recalling your earlier conversation with Garcia. 

Shit.

"Meanwhile, I have to spend Galentine's Day with Garcia because all the ladies of the BAU are taken and I have nothing better to do—" Luke comes to a full 720, catching the tail end of your coat as you whip it on and make for the door. "—um, excuse you?"

"If Emily asks, I had an emergency!" You manage to call back, throwing open the glass door.

"Okay?"

"Thanks, Newb!"

As the elevator door dings shut with you inside, leg jumping because you have a sneaking suspicion you fucked up, Luke slouches in his chair and grumbles.

He's not a newb. Or a newbie.

—

You rush over to Spencer's, catching your breath as you stumble to his front door. There's shuffling from inside, the faint sound of clanking and crashing and your heart swells because this is the man you’ve fallen for, the first one you've ever felt this way for. Here he is, being all considerate and romantic. And here you are, fucking it up when your relationship’s barely even started.

God, you're an asshole, you berate yourself as you turn the doorknob and push open the door. You're an asshole you're an asshole you’re an asshole—

Then your eyes widen and your jaw goes slack. 

Immediately, you slap a hand over your mouth and nose as your favorite scented candles hit you like someone shoved a bouquet in your face. The description isn't too far off considering there's a lovely bouquet of your favorite flowers still in its wrapping, haphazardly set next to a dozen donuts on the coffee table like no one's business. Its petals are strewn across the floor, a few in tiny piles like they were hastily swept to the side. Red and pink and dark green fill your vision.

Who gutted Cupid and tossed his organs around, holy fu-

"(Your name)?"

Startled, you crane your head to find Spencer, beautiful hair askew and his tie hanging loosely around his neck. His sleeves are pushed up to his elbows as he clutches flowers to his chest. In his other hand, he grips the colored strings of several shiny red and pink balloons in the shape of hearts and—fuck—your heart might actually float up from your chest and into your eyes.

This is your man. Your partner. Your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend panics, fumbling for a second before stuffing the balloons and trimmed flowers back into the room behind him and slamming the door shut. He turns back to you, eyes wide.

"What-what are you doing here?" Spencer stammers, wringing his hands together.

You blink at him, dumbly holding up your phone. "You-uh-you left early and didn't return my calls."

"I'm sorry. I think I left my phone at work," Probably because he left in such a rush, Spencer groans, looking anywhere but you. The petals scattered over his floor are quite pretty in this light. "And I was a bit busy."

"I'm sure you were," You gawk openly at the strings of fairy lights hung around his living room. It's a clash of aesthetics. Spencer always rocked dark academia, but despite how ugly the combination of red and pink decorations with his nature green walls and dark wood is, it leaves his apartment a little brighter, a little cozier, and you love it.

You love everything about this.

But as you take in the ugly beauty of it all, Spencer fidgets at the doorway, mistaking your awe as shock and disgust. Wiping sweaty palms on his trousers, his eyes dart around, trying to focus on something, but every place he lays his eyes on makes him cringe. He catches all the things he couldn't clean up or put away in time. No doubt you do too. All the leftover flower petals, the donuts he can’t return, candles that haven’t blown out because he has the lungs of an 8-year old asthmatic. 

Spencer can't imagine how appalled you are.

And the longer your silence stretches on, the more nervous he gets so he blurts out, "I'm so sorry, (Your Name)!"

Your brow shoots up as he begins to ramble.

"You must hate this. I'll put everything away."

"You really don't have to—" You stop him, and your heart nearly crumbles as Spencer's does when he finally meets your worried gaze. 

His eyes gleam with unshed tears. He swallows, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"

"Doc—"

"At least not without asking you—"

"Doctor—"

"I understand if you want to break up—" His voice cracks, as if the idea itself will destroy him (it definitely will). 

"Spencer—" His voice, wobbly and dripping with unnecessary guilt, draws you to him.

"But I want you to know that I—"

With an exasperated sigh, you grab his hand as yours finds the nape of his neck, pulling him into a soft kiss. 

For a second, Spencer doesn't respond because who kisses the person they're about to break up with? Strange, really. But then he kisses you back. His hands remain frozen, unsure of where he stands, but he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. He figures this is a new social cue he has yet to learn. And if this is the last time you kiss him, he'll treasure every second of it, take whatever you'll give him because again he's a lovefool for you. 

And when you pull back, he's too dazed he nearly misses the look you give him. Suddenly, he can’t breathe.

You look at him like he hung the stars instead of cheap fairy lights around his apartment. 

Spencer’s confused. "I-I... Wha—"

"I'm not breaking up with you," You chuckle, and you nearly burst out laughing as genuine puzzlement takes over his face. You tug him behind you, plopping yourselves on his couch. You smile, appreciating the way he organized the cushions and throw-pillows; there's now space for two people to lay down.

You take a breath. "You wanna know why I don't like Valentine’s Day?"

Spencer slouches, though his body is angled towards you so you suppose that's good. He sighs, "Because it's a capitalistic holiday that reinforces the idea of doing the bare minimum…"

He begins listing your reasons, and your eyes soften. Of course he listened and remembered even if you mentioned it offhandedly.

You nod once he finishes. "Yes but before that—and I can't believe I'm telling you this—back when I was a little kid, I didn’t get any Valentines."

Spencer's brow furrows at the newfound information. You continue, "I'd get some from my friends and stuff but that's not what Valentine's Day is about. At least not when you're a kid. When you’re a dumb kid, it’s about couples and romantic shit, and I didn't really have any of that growing up." You purse your lips and glance away, face flushed with embarrassment. It's really not that big a deal, but putting it into words makes the idea seem more intimate and personal.

It takes a moment for your words to sink in as Spencer can't believe his ears. How could you not have been showered with love and affection and presents on Valentines Day? It's like water doesn't make things wet or fire doesn't produce heat; it just doesn't make sense. Because you deserve that much and more.

"So every Valentine's Day, I lowered my expectations and eventually I stopped caring. I'd tell myself those things and I started to believe them," You bite your lip, eyes crinkling as you give Spencer a sheepish smile. "But now I have you."

At that, Spencer returns your smile, letting you take his hand. Any tears he had seem to evaporate instantly.

“So, I'm sorry that I hurt you. I stand by what I said before, Valentine’s Day sucks. But if it’s with you,” Blushing deeply, you play with Spencer's hand, large and veins defined compared to yours, shrugging, “I guess it’s not so bad.”

Spencer’s smile broadens, and he intertwines your fingers together. "So what you’re saying is, you don’t hate this?” He looks around his living room.

You shake your head, unable to stop the grin crossing your lips. “No. In fact, very much the opposite. Honestly, thank you for this, it’s beautiful. I have no words.” You breathe it all in; the candles, the flowers, the— Your nose wrinkles and you snort, “Did you burn something?”

Bashfully looking down, he scratches his chin. “I-uh-tried to make your favorite dishes. Though, I was hoping the candles and flowers would mask it.”

You giggle and pull him into you, snuggling into his side. “That’s okay. I’d much rather have you anyway.”

With Spencer a blushing, stuttering mess in your arms, head resting on your chest, you press a kiss to his hair and conclude; yeah, you don’t like Valentine’s Day. 

But you sure as hell love Spencer more.

—

AN:  FtH status: finished - 7/5. yes 7.

I realize this was not what anon requested but oh well i wrote this at 2 am 

I’m not that anti v day but i stand by the capitalistic aspect.

yes this takes place after For the Holidays.

also included luke bc hes my bro and i honestly think he deserves so much more than what the show gave also garvez ftw

happy post valentine’s day!!

Song: Lovefool by The Cardigans

[palbabor-writes]

I just wanna say I love you and your writing! ❤️ You are a blessing to me, I always start freaking out whenever I see you post a new thing. YOU DESERVE WAY MORE ATTENTION JFHDJEJHEHE but may I have a smudge of virgin! dabi or shiggy with a dom! reader? Handjobs, blowjobs, deepthroating , riding them, the whole SHABOOM SHABANG PLEASE AND THANK YOU

daw, my love! you’re amazing & tysm for your support, it means so, so much to me. like, i can’t even tell you how happy i am to hear that.

& of course you can! i opted to go with Dabi, since i haven’t explored this topic with him yet & ever since i saw this ask i cannot get the fumbling, blushing, asshole that he’d be outta my mind. seriously, the topic of this ask has lived there, rent free, for dayyyyys. 

warnings: SMUT/18+ only, loss of virginity, vaginal fingering, hand jobs, blowjobs and general fuckery

Things between the two of you had never been slow, or usual, or sentimental. Actually, love hasn’t come into the equation at all. It’s more like, easing an itch. But if you scritched and scratched it just right, god, it was divine. 

Dabi never let things get too far. He’d always bat you away, or roll to his side of the bed, broad back shutting you out, keeping you firmly in your own lane. Oh he’d kiss you and cup at your curves, but he never let you return the favor, snapping and snarling a string of curses and threats when you got too close.

He was like some sort of feral dog.

You could place the food down and leave the blanket out, but if you got too near, too comfortable, then the teeth would inch forward, keen, ready to bite.

At first, you’d figured it was simply who he was. He was short tempered and brittle and this extended to all members of the league. Not even Shigaraki was spared his jabs. It’s a miracle he’d let you step within sniffing distance. 

His fingers are always warm when they touched you, warm and calloused, whittled down to cinders and dark ash. He’s never gentle. Each caress is a challenge, some sort of task that needs to be dominated, beaten, acquired. It’s almost like he slips into some other mindset when he presses into you. He’s got to keep ahead, must win each pairing until there’s no question of who the victor is. 

Once, you’d managed to pin him under you. 

He’d relented the second your clothed center brushed against his burgeoning hardness, breath stolen, cerulean eyes wide. You’d never seen him like that before and you’d paused, hips lingering over his, head cocked to one side. 

“What?” you’d asked, voice soft in the darkness. He hadn’t answered, but his fingers trembled when they reached for you, urging you back into that age old shift and grind. When you passed over that bulge again he’d groaned, fire bright eyes slipping behind his quaking eyelids. 

Your hands cupped at his marred face, digits tracing over his too hot staples, awed at his unbidden reaction and the dusty stain of his blush. The rhythm you’d started began to deepen and he’d nearly arched under you when you rose up on your knees, but, unfortunately, you’d forgotten something vital as you let yourself be swept away by his ragged eagerness. 

It’s dangerous to let your guard down when you’re petting a wild thing.

As soon as your eyes winced closed, the world toppled to bits around you and Dabi shoved you from him, coiling away. “Get out,” he’d growled, eyes sharp as flint, arms wrapping around his bent knees. “Get the fuck outta here, before I...before I throw you out.”

So, you’d left; but you hadn’t forgotten. 

Days later, he’d stormed back into your room, eyes wild, skin blazingly hot to the touch. You’ve never seen him like this and you shift from your bed, pressing him to sit on the crumpled sheets. He looks like he’s seconds from shattering and his hands keep combing over his inky mop of hair, pricking the edges until they bristled from the static. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked, hands patting over him, searching for the hurt. His skin feels damp and you splay your fingers over his heart, bewildered by the frantic pounding of the muscle. 

“Nothing,” he begins, voice tight, eyes refusing to meet your own.

Liar, you think, plucking at the white fabric of his shirt and shifting your touch to his back, praying your hand doesn’t come back red. He’s shit at taking care of himself and there’s always some fresh burn or loosened staple that’s etched across him each time he comes back to the hideout. It’s almost like he’s trying to mar and maim himself. 

“Dabi, you’re burning up...”

“It’s not...at least...I don’t think that...It’s not my quirk.”

“Okay, then what is wrong? This isn’t normal, so don’t tell me I’m overreacting. If you’ve pushed yourself too far you need to–”

“I just said it isn’t my quirk,” he snarls, and his eyes finally lift. The sight almost knocks you backwards. They’re vivid, despite the low light, but his pupils are blown and the black is eating away at the familiar shock of blue. He looks hungry.

“Dabi...Dabi what were you–”

“I tried to forget it,” his voice is dissonant, hollow, and you can feel your breathing kicking up as your heart starts to thrum against your breastbone. “I thought that I could...take care of it...but it’s not...it doesn’t work. I can’t...I can’t...look what you’ve done. Look at what you’ve fucking done!” 

Fingers curl under your bent arms and he hoists you onto his lap, slotting you over spread thighs, his mismatched lips dragging across your own. He’s sloppy and teeth clink as you settle, arms wrapping around his broad neck, digits coiling into his hair. He sucks and nips at your bottom lip, pressing until he’s lured a few moans from your throat, smirking as they vibrate into the chilled air. 

You know what he was doing now. 

How could you miss it, when it’s jutting against the swell of your ass, poorly concealed under the thin material of his sweatpants. Popping up on your knees forces him to break free of your kiss shined lips and you chuckle at his disgruntled scowl. 

“Want me to take care of that for you?” your voice is quiet, but he startles at the question, body quaking as a hiss leeches through his clenched teeth.

“Get on the bed.”

“I am on the bed,” you retort.

He clicks his tongue and you find yourself forfeiting your top position as he knocks you off of his lap, tumbling you onto your mattress. His lean body is bracing over you and he stills your protestations with another kiss. This time he’s smoother, tongue pressing past the barrier of your lips, twining and urgent. Warm fingertips tease along your dips and curves, pinching at your skin. He greedily swallows each gasp that you give him and keeps the pressure up, one hand cupping under your neck, tugging you closer. 

Distractedly, you start to pull at his tattered shirt but once you touch his rippled stomach, he yanks himself back. Not again, you inwardly groan, head flopping against the sheets. You can see him a little clearer from this angle and you study his abashed continence, unable to hide the smile that pulls at your lips. 

“Don’t...” he trails off, nose wrinkling as he looks away from you once more.

“It’s okay,” you bargain, fingertips tickling up his sides, delighted with the sheer heat of him. “We can just do this. I don’t–”

“I don’t want this,” he grits, jaw tense, hands fisting into the bedding.

“Alright,” you sigh, still toying with his shirt. “What do you want?”

“More.” 

It’s a simple demand, almost comically cliché, especially considering who’s uttering this from his scarred lips, but it still makes you shudder, a slick clench passing over your core. 

You bite your lip and he gives you a gleaming smirk, teeth shining in the moonlight. He’s tempting, but he’ll always be a danger; it’s too bad that’s part of his charm.

He moves with an agility that leaves you breathless and his fingers are unfastening the ties of your sleeping pants so quickly that you swear they blur. In an instant, cool air is lapping against your dampened curls and he’s already pressing a curious finger over you.

One arm is braced beside your head but his attention is wholly focused on the mysteries he’s finally revealed. You can hear his breath, hitching and panting as he blunders his way into your folds. His touch is rough, too rough, and you arch away, fingers knocking him from you.

Dabi sucks his teeth at your impudence, jerking you back to him as he slides closer to his prize. You can feel his exhales as they ghost over you, so close it makes you buck toward the tempting warmth. He notices and shifts downward, lining his inquisitive nose with your slit.

“You smell good,” he informs you, sucking in a heady lungful, a lazy grin stretching his staples. “Didn’t know that was a thing.”

That prodding index finger is back and it’s just as clumsy as it slips and skids across your flushed labia. He tries to slide it forward but he’s over estimated your entrance and it fumbles into nothing, a lone nail scratching as he passes. Your thighs instinctually clamp around him and he lets out another frustrated huff. “Stop that! How am I supposed to feel you up if you keep scooting away? Stop being such a bitch about it. It’s not–”

“It hurts you jackass. That’s why I’m moving. How would you like it if I just started pulling and clamping my fist on your dick? You’ve got to slow down. Here...” Your arms slip beside your ribs and you sit up, spreading your legs as your hand moves to your cunt, granting his wide eyes a good view. “It’s one thing to touch me, it’s something else entirely if you’re going to literally poke at me. Give me your hand.”

Dabi balks at your request, a dark glower breaking over his face. “I can do it on my own. I don’t need your help–”

“If you really think that, then you can fuck right back off to your own room. Go on. Gloomily masturbate yourself to sleep, hoping that the scent of me on your fingers will be enough to push you over the edge. But I don’t think you can, not when you know what you can have instead of your fist.”

His nostrils flare at the lewd bluntness of your words, but he doesn’t protest further, slipping his calloused and burned hand into your grip, submitting himself to your control.

You pry his index finger from the others and lower it to yourself, gliding him against you, showing him how you like to be touched. As you crest his finger tip over your clit he gasps at the shudder you give him, jaw askew and pupils blown. 

“Pay attention,” you scold, hips arching forward as you repeat the motion. “Use your thumb too. Yes, like that. Ah– very good. Think you’ve got it from here?”

He doesn’t give you any kind of verbal response, opting to swipe his pink tongue over his lips and scoot closer instead. As soon as your hand drops from his, he tests out his freedom, fingers inquisitive, almost gentle. He’s learned that it only takes a few swift tweaks to have you bowing under him and if he adds a circular pressure to the motion you’ll call out his name. 

When his tongue swipes up your budding arousal you keen for him, hands grabbing for the side of his head, fingers tugging against his hair. “Ouch! That’s not fucking fair,” he grumbles, the jagged texture of his lips sucking at you. “I can’t be rough but you get to do whatever the fuck you want, huh?”

“Shut up,” you gasp, marveling at the speed of his touches. He’s gained some confidence and each time you praise him the tips of his fingers heat up, applying a sinful warmth to your dripping pussy. “Oh, fuck, yes! Do that again, that felt so good. God, you’re perfect Dabi, so fucking perfect.” 

The groan that escapes him creates a marvelous vibration along your folds and your legs shake beside his broad shoulders. When he lets out another choked moan you belatedly notice that the edge of your bed is shaking. It’s a cadenced motion and you tilt your head to one side, searching for the source. 

Oh.

It’s Dabi. His legs are half propped against the bed and he’s worked his hips against the corner of the mattress, rutting himself in time with his slurps and pulls. When he yanks himself back you can see the spidery thread that’s attached itself to the sheets, strung from the deepening saturation that’s expanding across the front of his sweatpants. The sight of him, so lost in your taste and smell that he’s humping himself off, makes your cunt tighten, rings of muscle winking and closing against nothing.

“D-Dabi,” you eke out, eyes rolling back as he seals his lips around your clit again. “Use your...your fingers.”

“What?” he murmurs, voice disjointed and thin.

“Put your fingers in me.”

The demand has him shifting upward, slick chin and lips glistening in the moonlight. He gives you a few blinks, but then the full meaning hits him and he leers down at you. “I wanna put something else in you.”

You shake your head at him and his grin shifts to a scowl. “Why not?”

“You won’t last.”

“Bitch,” he grunts, wiping his mottled arm across his face, smearing your arousal off. “The fuck do you think you’re talking to? I’ll–”

“Stand up.”

“What?” His brows furrow and his lip sets into a tense pull.

“Stand up,” you repeat, already pulling your bare legs from under him.

“Why do you get to give all of the orders? You’re not the boss. I don’t have to listen to any of this bull–”

“Dabi, stand up and I’ll suck you off. It’ll make it easier, trust me.”

The words suck and off appear to leave him in the lurch, but he sways backwards all the same, hands already digging into his sopping pants. He rattles out a low whimper as he unsticks himself from the loose fabric, and you can’t help but smile at his renewed blush. Seconds later, they pool at his ankles with a quiet shush and you scoot forward, fingers itching to touch him. 

He’s an impressive specimen.

The length and girth of his swollen cock curves haughtily upward and you eye the rosy tip ravenously. That long string of precum has broken and it coils thickly against his velvety skin, so bright that it shines. You look up at him before your hand curls around his cockhead and he looks absolutely lost. In a matter of minutes this imposing man has gone from feral stray to placid pup and it’s all thanks to you. Awash in your own power, you wrap as much of him as you can in your grip, squeezing and pulling as you ease up to his sloppy cusp, gathering the cables of his want as you go.

When you start back down he lets out a very un-Dabi like yelp, eyes fading behind tensed eyelids. “Feel good?” you ask, adjusting your hold, repeating the upward slide.

He nods, clenched teeth bared as he tries his best to contain his wanton grunts and groans. “Dabi,” you taunt playfully, holding at his tip, dancing your finger pad over his bubbling slit. “I can’t hear you. I asked if if felt good?”

Cerulean eyes crack open and he fixes you with a blazing stare, but he ruts his hips forward all the same, his body oblivious to his outward need for control. Your fist clenches around him and the whine that leeches out of him is heavenly. 

“Answer me, now.”

“Ye-yeah,” he stumbles over the word, bottom lip quivering. “I want more though.”

“Oh? Think you deserve that? You couldn’t even focus enough to get me off a second ago.”

“What? You told me to stand up!”

“Mmm, yes. You’re right. You’re such a good boy, Dabi. So obedient and ready for praise.”

He tries to pull himself away, but another cant of your wrist has him stopping dead in his tracks, upper thighs shaking as you renew your tugs. “There we go,” you croon. “Look how big you get when I tell you how well you’re doing. You’re so hard baby, I know you wanna cum for me. You want me to swallow it all down? Think you can give me enough?”

Dabi flops forward at your last question, shoving himself into your tightening fist, doing his best to get close to the sinful temptation of your lips. When you surge onto your knees his hands snatch at your shoulders, blindly yanking you to his parted lips. 

His kiss is so distracted it can hardly be called a caress. Your lips merely rest against his and he breathes into you, sucking up your exhales with a frantic need. “Suck me off,” he gasps, eyes blearily meeting your own, the blue a glassy haze. “Suck me off, suck me off, suck me off.”

It’s like he can only ask for one thing now, hips pistoning forward as a long burst of precum oozes from him. The heat of this pre release is so hot it feels like it’s scalding the back of your hand, but you hardly notice the pain, too wrapped up in his trembling malleability. 

“Ask me nicely.” The request is whisper quiet and he instinctually shakes his head, forehead lowering to rest against the flat plane of your collarbone. “No? That’s too bad love. You were doing so well, being so good and so nice.”

When your hand starts to loosen that hard earned pressure he relents, own hands grabbing your upper arms as he holds you to him. “I want you...fucking damn it...I want you to let me fuck your mouth. I wanna fuck you. I want...I–”

“None of that came with a please.”

“Hnnnng,” he groans, lifting his head to sink his teeth into the dip of your shoulder, biting and nipping, vainly attempting to distract you.

“That won’t work,” you say melodically, listening to him slurp up some of his excess drool from your newly dampened skin. “It’s just one word. Say it and I’ll get down on my hands and knees. I’ll wrap my lips around this fucking perfect cock and suck on you until you can’t think. I want your cum. Fuck, I want it so bad. So be a good boy, hmm? Be my good boy, my only, and I’ll let you–”

“Please! Please, please, please, please! Fuck! Please suck on me, put your fucking slutty little mouth on me! Plea– oh...fuck!”

He tastes like the sea, all salt and brine. It lingers deliciously on the tip of your tongue. 

You dip yourself lower, mouth voraciously edging forward, sliding your seeking appendage under his length, tracing up the long sets of veins you find. Dabi curves himself over your head, fingers cupping behind your ears as he forces you into a quick rhythm. You’d dictated his movements earlier, so it’s only fair you give him a little leeway of his own, at least, for now. 

The mixture of suction and wet heat soon proves too much for him. His hips are already faltering, hesitating on each outward and inward lurch. It’s too much, but it’s also nowhere near enough. 

His voice is broken and his staples snag against your hair, but he refuses to let up, not until he’s gotten what he wants. He can feel your abused throat seizing around him and he’s intoxicated by the feeling. He wants you to choke on him, to gag on him, to run yourself raw. 

He might have said some of these wishes out loud. He’s not sure. Not when the world is so torrid and sloppy and searing with a lure that he can’t live without, not anymore.

Why had he waited so long?

This isn’t even your cunt. God, you’d smelled so fucking good and the taste, fuck, it’ll be years before he can wash that flavor from his lips, or his mind. Goddamn it, it’s not enough.

Dabi cums with a shout. The feeling of his release, as it singes the back of your throat, is abrupt and you sputter, hands doing their best to get you away from the otherworldly temperature of this man. He’s too blissed out to notice your lips slipping from him and some of his cum splatters over your bent knees, sizzling as it hits your unprotected skin. 

You wipe at the remainder of him and collapse backwards, head hitting the cool sheets with a dull flop. As you catch your breath you listen for him. He’s still perched at the end of your bed, but you can hear his breathing as it steadies. He’ll likely leave, you think, arms curling beside your head. He’ll grab his pants and go back to his room and that will be–

The grip of his hand startles a hiss from you and you soon find yourself blinking up at his leering grin. He’s jerked you downward again, but this time he’s slotting himself between your thighs, warm fingertips already teasing at your budded clit.

“I’m not done.”

tags: @libiraki - since i teased you with some of it earlier :3c                    

[everlarkficexchange]

Rule #9

Written by: @alliswell21

Prompt 6: Modern AU. High School or College Everlark. Make the “booth Kiss” but Everlark! Peeta is the big brother of Katniss best friend, and she never imagined rule number #9 would become a problem. “Rule #9: Relatives of your best friend are off-limits.” [submitted by @alwayseverlark]

Rated: Teens and Up (rating will change in later chapters)

Tags: Canon Divergent; ‘The Kissing Booth’ (Netflix) Everlark crossover!AU; Canon disability; Slight age difference; Language; Snarky!Everlark; More tags will be added on AO3.

Notes: Thank you @alwayseverlark for the prompt… I remember when The Kissing Booth first came out a bunch of us started Everlarking the movie, but I guess neither of us ever finished it… Oops! Anyway, this is just an introduction of the fic; the rest will be posted to AO3 in chapters. I’ve already written a good chunk of it, but it still needs editing and polishing. I hope this little snippet is enough to get you going until then!

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

It’s the last Friday of summer break, and I think I’m gonna faint. The air is muggy, the sun is hot, the pool water a few yards in front of me looks inviting and refreshing, yet, I couldn’t move a muscle to save my life if I wanted to.

I arrived home from a 5 week retreat for disabled athletes, and after dumping the smelly contents of my duffle bag into the washer, I peeled off my shirt, shoes and socks and made my way to our family pool, just to be confronted by an unexpected sight.

I’ve been staring at my baby brother’s best friend in the tiniest, neon orange bikini in history, for what has to be up to a solid minute now.

“You’re such a pest, Rye!” She yells from behind a lounge chair, loading with darts a brightly colored nerf gun.

My brother is standing in the middle of the pool, aiming his water blaster in her direction, “Yeah? You think so, Kani?” Ryen mocks— ‘Kani’ isn’t her real name, though. Rye just had trouble pronouncing it properly when he was a baby, and the nickname stuck— “Eat chlorine!” He blasts his bestie as soon as she moves from her cover to shoot at him.

Is a typical scene, really. A summer staple of our childhood: my brother— Rye— chasing little tomboy, Katniss Everdeen, around the pool while shooting some toy projectile at each other; except this time the swell of Katniss’ breasts, the flare of her hips, and even the miles upon miles of sun kissed, olive skin, glimmering under the sun with water droplets scattered all over her body, gave me panting and straining.

I don’t remember her looking this way at the beginning of summer!

Objectively speaking, Katniss has always been cute, but she’s also another one of the ‘guys’, invariably tougher than Ryen, and completely out of bounds.

“I’m warning you, Ryen Mellark…surrender, or prepare to get your butt handed to you!” She roars.

“Bring it on, Kani!”

In typical Katniss and Rye fashion, her massive nerf gun gets dropped on the terra-cotta tiles for the patio, as she leaps into the pool to rough-house him.

My eyes follow her graceful ass with tunnel vision narrowness. A disgusting appreciative half moan-half grunt, escapes the back of my throat involuntarily. Worse of it is what happens below my waist, where my shorts are tenting and my muscles twitch.

“Fuck!” I heave under my breath. I can’t let Rye see me like this!

Nothing good will come of my brother noticing the effect Katniss has on my body. Rye is obsessively overprotective of her, their bond is one of the most unique, strong and special things I’ve seen, and I don’t dare messing it up.

You wouldn’t be able to tell, just looking at our house, our cars, Dad’s sprawling business, our high end education, or our perceived wealth, but our family life hasn’t been a field of flowers exactly. At times, Katniss was the only sliver of light and hope in Ryen’s existence, and vice versa when tragedy struck the Everdeens, Rye was Katniss’ sole source of understanding and companionship. They’re equally dependent on each other.

It's time to get back inside. A cold shower is in order.

My daydreams of shedding my fake leg and falling into the pool to relax in the weightlessness of the water after my long ass drive, will have to wait.

I step backwards into the living room, but my real, bare foot lands on a nerf dart. The squishy material startles me; I trip, narrowly catching myself against the open French doors.

“Shit!”

The skirmish behind me comes to an abrupt end, and I shift in place, to face them.

My brother’s eyebrows are arched, watching me quizzically. Even with one prosthetic leg I’m usually very sure footed.

“When did you get home?” Rye demands, hoisting himself out of the pool.

“About 10 minutes ago. Where’s dad?”

Rye shrugs, “Take a wild guess,”

So, the bakery then. Dad owns a chain of bakeries state wide, but he’s the head baker in the original shop, here in town.

I try to keep my eyes on Rye, chanting in my head: don’t look at her, don’t look at her, don’t look at her… it isn’t working! My eyes stray to Katniss all the same.

She climbs out of the pool as well, and it’s all I can do to not stare like a creep, as the rivulets of pool water drip down between her breasts and limbs.

I swallow harshly before rasping out the first thing that comes to mind. “Hey Rye, have you seen my jockstrap, I’m doing laundry.”

‘Jockstrap? Really? Smooth you moron!’

I have to suppress the urge to groan.

Ryen rolls his eyes, “Yeah, I just wore it this morning during all my sport tryouts.”

His sarcastic quip makes Katniss laugh. A sound I’ve found mesmerizing ever since I can remember. Her syren call is too strong to resist.

I turn in her direction, and again, my mouth runs with the first thing that comes to mind. “Everscream, are those new?” I point at her chest, making a vague circle gesture. I’m such an idiot!

“What?” She looks down at herself confused. I can pinpoint the moment she realizes I’m referring to her boobs.

Normally, Katniss would fix me with a scowl for the nickname she hates so much, but at 17 she’s so pure, my comment about her chest just causes her sparkly gray eyes to widen in shock. Her cheeks turn a deep shade of pink, and she plops down into the nearest lounger, scrambling to pull a towel over herself.

“There’s nothing new here!” She snaps, scowling at her knees for a second. She turns her flaming gaze back on me. “Hey, Peeta, have you ever heard of a detangler? Is a grooming product that can help tame that rat’s nest you call hair! By the way, put a shirt on, you look like a hobo!”

Rye guffaws, and even I have to smirk.

She isn’t wrong. I could use some shampoo and maybe some conditioner as well; washing my hair only with the cheap bar of soap from the athletic villa for a month has taken its toll on my poor head.

“Whatever dorks. Just keep it quiet, will ya? I have a hot date with the couch and Netflix, and I don't want you two intruding in my ‘me’ time with your racket.”

I go back inside, my brother and his best snigger by the pool like they always do. I want to turn around and fling the dart I stepped on at Rye, but I know starting a war with them would just prolong my exposure to Katniss in a tiny bikini, and I just can’t endure that torture anymore.