#i rarely feel induced keep up with what they do anymore because when i do i am just. moderately disappointed. and i eventually lose interes

[kitchenprose]

the voidz drop a single (one (1) track) every 6-12 months just so they can advertise 532423 new overpriced merch pieces of dubious quality..... bros.... be real with Me... do you still want to make music......Be Honest........

[bagheerita]

finally finished DS9 and decided to post some thoughts in one big blob

I was honestly about to give up on season 7 and put the rest of this show to the side for a few months, but then Ezri and Worf have a 3 episode arc sorting out their relationship, only talking to each other because they're marooned/imprisoned, and I was so charmed by them being loud and messy that I managed to bull my way through to the end. I love the two of them as friends, they are adorable. 

I actually really like Damar and his arc, and it’s pretty rare I say that about a character who killed my favorite. 

I feel like the reason Section 31 exists, and they keep forcing episodes about it upon me, is because they wrote themselves into a corner with inventing the changeling disease to kneecap an unbeatable enemy and didn’t know how else to fix it/end the war except with secret secret spies. 

Ezri has this whole speech she gives to Worf about dismantling structures of power and I feel like they needed to end the show before anyone was like, hey the Federation kind of sucks and we should definitely do that. 

Garak’s mom showed up and everything was good in the world again.

Ezri and Julian are like “can’t deny the chemistry.” lol babes that's called being a young attractive allosexual. "Chemistry" is what Worf and O'Brien have in all the scenes where they're mocking you.

I’ve never felt the truth of the phrase “I support women’s wrongs” so intensely as I do with Kai Winn. I love her and I want to give her everything. I didn't love her getting assaulted by Dukat, but when she knows everything that's happening and chooses the pah-wraiths anyway, yes fuck it up. When she poisoned Dukat I was like, hot damn if this character dies as a footnote in someone else's quest for power I will forgive everything that this show has put me through because of him. But we can't have nice things. I did like that her last act was to choose to take their victory from them, and give Sisko the clue he needed to beat them.

I do love Martok but I feel like he’s going to be about as good a chancellor as Robert Baratheon was a king. 

Odo is The Last Unicorn, but with brain-melding: he’s going to share his experience of loving a mortal with the other immortals. I still don’t “get” him and Kira as a couple, their relationship literally went from -20 to 100% after a single all night conversation locked in Jadzia's bathroom and no actual onscreen development, but at least I believe that they believe they’re in love. 

Why the ever loving fuck is Julian so obsessed with the Alamo. Every time they bring it up I want to grab him and Miles and shake them. I get that it's supposed to be some sort of metaphor for fighting a hopeless war, but really? You want to go up to the fake room where you can do/be literally anything and you're going to repeatedly reenact a battle where you die to defend your right to have slaves and practice settler colonialism??? Even in the last episode they’ve won the real war and they’re still obsessed with reenacting this old battle. They also spend that one episode trying to figure out how to win the Alamo… babes, that actually happened: it’s called the Battle of San Jacinto- learn some actual fucking history, your side won the war. This isn’t about metaphors anymore, the metaphor has failed, now Julian just has a neurosis.

The Dominion War plot line goes on for way too long and there is so little internal emotional catharsis. (Maybe because for me the things that were supposed to be cathartic just induced more rage? 🤔) The ending was fine as far as character wrap ups but felt pretty rushed considering how long it took us to get to this point, and I really think they needed more time to handle the denouement. The overall pacing of the episodes/seasons is terrible: you wasted like a season and a half puttering around, with whole episodes where you forgot to mention the war; you added in mirror-verse episodes without bothering to use them for story or character development; Quark is one of my favorite characters but there are too many episodes about Ferengi shenanigans that do not impact the actual plot; there are whole scenes and arcs dedicated to a character who does not (within the internal logic of the show) exist. And then you slammed all the development into the last half of the last season. I'm not surprised now that I forgot this entire show after watching it while airing because it’s emotionally exhausting. I've compared DS9 to SGA in the past, but the Dominion remind me of the Ori: You've killed the enjoyment I found in this show and have made it a chore to watch.

I do like that what ends the war is Julian’s determination and Odo’s compassion. You've proven the Founders wrong, but this entire plot thread was so poorly handled that I don't know that anyone remembers one mention from four seasons ago about why this war even started and, honestly, standing on a planet where you just murdered millions of children it's kind of not enough. I like that they let Garak kill the last Weyoun, and I adore the scene where he lets Kira take the phaser, but honestly he deserved more. It wouldn't solve anything, and I think there's a nice parallel in Garak's fears inspiring him into attempting genocide being incredible grounded in reality and the Founder's similar fears being negated, but he deserves it, the head Founder deserves to be torn into tiny pieces by grieving Cardassians, and I deserve to watch it. (I also desperately want Garak to find out about Section 31 and the changeling disease just so he can be like, "Oh so when I try to commit genocide I get 6 months in jail, but when the Federation wants to commit genocide that's okay?")

I don’t know who on the production team is so invested in Mark Alaimo getting a paycheck, but by the end Dukat as a character has long outlived any interesting qualities he may have had at one point. The final battle shit with the pah-wraiths was pretty underwhelming; except for the deeper exploration of Winn's motives that this season has allowed for, "The Reckoning" was such a better structured episode. (At least at this point they've let Kira go off and be awesome without being forced into episodes with Dukat. The sheer amount of abusive old men sexually attracted to much younger women in this show is frankly unnecessary; I will never be able to unhear Curzon say he flunked Jadzia from the symbiont program because he wanted to bang her, and Dukat’s relentless pursuit of Kira especially/even after we learn he sexually assaulted her mother is disgusting.) 

I have mixed feelings about Sisko, and his character having a “white savior” role with the Bajorans. Like, I guess it’s a cool twist that he’s a black white savior, maybe that's the best the 90s can do, but also can we decide to not write stories where we give foreigners positions of power over recently subjugated peoples??  I was feeling pretty yikes about it especially after the beginning of this season and learning that he was basically genetically bred by the Prophets for the position, but… I dunno, I’m probably not someone who can or should have a deep opinion about this. I do like that arc for him as a character outside of what it means for the Bajorans, but his ending feels too open. I wish we got to know more about what he learns from hanging out with the Prophets, and I wish that the great "sorrow" he suffers from disregarding the visions felt more concrete. Kassidy is really the only one sad about this, Sisko seems excited to exist outside of time. (And I feel like a lot of the "yikes" of the character could have been fixed by making the character be Bajoran? You wouldn't need to invent a reason why he was chosen by the Prophets. He could even have been raised on Earth and still have those ties, and I think it would have made the pull between his duty as an officer and his duty as the Emissary more interesting. Also can you imagine if Jake and Ziyal were both half Bajoran and hanging out with each other??? But they don't pay me to write shows.)

Why do Miles and Julian have the gayest final montage? It's literally the first of the montages and they start it up over "The Way You Look Tonight" and I was just like... wtf did I accidentally put in a fan video? Miles is the only person in a relationship who has a montage without any mention of their significant other, though I guess Worf's does jump from his first meeting with Sisko straight to season 5 clips so they didn't mention Jadzia either. I love that Miles and Julian have such a deep friendship, and I feel like this show could use more interrogation of the concept of love and the fact that platonic love/friendship is just as important as romantic love, but the production has spent so much time "no homo"ing every relationship they can think of that it just comes off as bizarre. 

All the bts things I’ve read about this show pretty much amount to the production being like “we had no idea what we were doing with this character” which, when combined with the failure to manage season structure and some of the utterly bonkers episodes this show threw out there, leads me to believe that pretty much anything I enjoyed about this show comes from the actors. This is definitely a show I feel like I’m going to be “rewatching” through fanfiction and gif sets before I ever rewatch the entire show again. 

[daisy-blooms]

Google docs make me want to kill myself.

I've been trying to write a script for a comic this entire semester. I'm supposed to have a whole volume done by the end of it. So far? I've written about four to five pages. It's a story about the last human in the world. She's approached by a god of death, and told she has one chance. Her people froze her in cryostasis, and preserved her until the end of time. The second singularity is forming, an ultra-massive black hole. Eventually, all will be swallowed up by it. Her role in the universe is to rediscover the lost arts of pseudo-alchemy and induce a premature big-bang. This would launch the creation of a second universe. After this, she is meant to clone all manner of life she preserved. By doing this, she will accomplish her goal: to defeat time, the final enemy of humanity. On this adventure she'll encounter alien races built for survival with little to no stimulation. Most species in this story are likened to the animals at the deepest depths of our oceans.

I'm calling the story The Darkest Age. Because that's what it is. As for aesthetic, it's future-medieval. Similar to Hyper Light Drifter, Dune, or Poptropica's Astro-Knights Island. I'm using a lot of corny-ass naming conventions to imply story ideas. The main character is a woman named Joan Dark (Joan of Arc). There's also a lot of religious commentary with a cult that worships the coming end of the universe (alluding to the rapture and general Christianity). The god she meets is not a god, but a creature called an Elemiri (Mirror of El). All of the universe's I write have a being called a primal at the center of them. This universe is a part of Universe 'B', which is overseen by Gro-El. "Gro" is her family of thought's name (Primals group based on vibe, not by kin). The Elemiri is called the Traveler, he basically looks like a homeless kid with a mask. His role in our universe is to oversee life and make sure all species that come to be get a fair chance at survival. Which is why he is inclined to assist Joan. In the makeshift Joan of Arc allegory the Traveler would be the archangel Michael. So they aren't really gods, more so just a species of very powerful and ancient aliens.

I have been writing this story for months now, and I feel like any time I open the google doc for it I'm either going to explode or hit 'ctrl+a', followed by 'del'. I absolutely hate feeling this way. I feel useless, like a waste of space. I can't bring myself to do anything for any of my classes because honestly, I do not care anymore. The whole world could go to hell for all I care. It all sucks, it's all useless, and I'm just a cog in that machine. I'm just a depressed person with a keyboard that hasn't been kicked to the curb yet. It's annoying as hell. I hate feeling like this. All I want in life is to have meaning again. But I just cannot convince myself that anything I do is worth doing. So at the end of the day, why do anything at all? Why live when dying is so easy? Why die when living is so rare? It's a split in opinion. It's all bullshit and so is everything. I am very clearly not well. But I've become so good at masking it that I keep forgetting. I push myself into escapism. I push myself into the mind of people I create and write their names into a google doc. If that's not what being a writer is, I don't know what is.

I have no purpose in life outside of simply wanting to. That is not a good reason to keep living. But I have to live, if not for myself now, for myself when I was a kid. All she would have wanted was to see me write these names and tell there stories. I don't think I have a choice. But maybe I do have a purpose. Maybe writing silly works of fiction to help people escape this shitty reality we were forced into is my point.

This post got a little away from what I wanted to say initially. I am not going to erase what I wrote. For the same reason that I draw with pen. Sometimes we shouldn't be able to take back what we say. Some things need to be said. Maybe not for the purpose of being heard. But instead maybe just to say something. I'm going to take my daily vitamin now. Then, I'm going to get a notebook. If I can't stand looking at a google doc, I'll write this fucking story with a pen. Because I don't want to delete it. I want to say it, and I want it to be heard. Thank you for reading this, if you did. I'm going to keep trying.

[healingmyshadow]

Negative Emotions

Are there negative emotions you try to avoid? Why?

Of course there are. There are emotions like anger and sadness that I try to avoid, because truly, I feel those emotions don't do anything beneficial. Getting sad and getting angry just hurts the self or people around me, so I do the very possible best I can to avoid getting angry. When it comes to getting sad, I simply have to prepare for unexpected sadness.

I am diagnosed with what is called "True Depression", often referred to as Chronic or Clinical Depression, so sometimes sadness creeps up on me and other times sadness is dropped on me like a baby grand piano from the 5th floor of a 10 story building. There never seems to be a chance to snap out of it. Once the sadness hits, it overstays its welcome and refuses to leave. My options for sadness are to take preventative measures or simply ride it out and wait.

Once the depression actually comes, it's there to stay. So I try to avoid that by simply keeping my mind busy, but sometimes even that is not enough to keep depression from crashing into me.

I am not a person that gets angry. I am diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder and for me, my mood shifts from a manic positive to a manic negative, similar to Bi-Polar disorder. In my case, I shift from confident to anxious far too intensely and far too quickly. It's rare for me to actually become angry, but when it does come, it's typically related to my BPD induced Anxiety.

I can easily avoid anger. That's not a problem anymore. I don't have any disorders that necessarily cause anger issues, so I can understand and let go of my anger a little easier. I understand that anger is a choice and I choose not to waste my time or energy on something that irritates me, especially if it's something that I cannot change, like a natural occurrence or someone's own beliefs or will.

I can worry about myself and how I treat others. That is in my control.

[feelingunfulfilled]

Something particularly fascinating (and also equality frustrating) to me is how my depression interacts with my anxiety. During my heightened anxiety, I felt overwhelmed and stressed over my fears for the future and sudden changes. I also cared a LOT about how others perceived me due to an intensified fear of judgement and criticism. I restricted myself from having deep relationships as the idea of vulnerability was terrifying. So for a long time, there where aspects of myself which I hid away because I was worried what my friends or family would think. I could only discuss My Little Pony around the people who watched the show, and I could only make silly jokes around the friend who I grew up with, and I could only share specific drawings with certain people as well. I convinced myself they wouldn’t understand my diversified personality even if I managed to be vulnerable (hence why my loneliness worsened). I felt kinda ostracized from the group because I never shared interests outside of the shared ones, and rarely shared anything about my personal life. There where plenty moments where I felt my stomach sink as I watched them from afar. Another thing that was also typical of me; guilt trip myself out of fear I’m being “a terrible person” for not reaching out and contacting old friends. All of this became common place with anxiety

But then the opposite became true with depression. It’s like flipping a coin and suddenly everything is juxtaposed

Depression numbs a lot of that built-up anxiety inducing fear because you suddenly stop giving a shit about things. You stop caring about grades and paying attention in class because you’ve convinced yourself that “your lazy” and “stupid” no matter what. You give into feeling fatigued and unmotivated and the desire to be pessimistic increases. You get annoyed when people tell you to “fake it till you make it” because you’re tired of acting like things are fine and that your happy when you don’t feel anything. You feel empty, emotionless, directionless, and lost. But it starts becoming the normal. It’s that attitude of “I’m going to do what I want to do and not let anything else dictate me” which is so vastly opposed to the way my brain operated on anxiety. It’s kinda freeing honestly. You start to accept your friendships as what they are, surface level. But that doesn’t mean it’s too late to keep building the bridges and digging deeper. Relationships go two ways, and what you put into it matters. If you want it to be meaningful you gotta share some meaningful information, and simply be true to yourself.

So obviously the upside to depression is you stop giving a shit about others words. It numbs the anxiety about fear of judgement, so you feel able to speak your mind more directly then before without holding back opinions and thoughts to appease others. However, this also backfires because the positive words others say to you don’t seem to matter. Your relationships loose some meaning because you don’t feel emotionally connected anymore. Sometimes it feels like your words hold no meaning, and encouragement to friends falls flat. Almost sounding disingenuous and fake because you don’t have that optimism for your own life. Like I can see my friends archiving success in the future, but I can’t fathom that for myself anymore. And your exhaustion and lack of motivation causes you to detach yourself from social interaction. There have been times where I ignore messages for days because I didn’t want people to know how I’ve been doing (obviously not doing great). During these moments, I’ve noticed my anxiety actually HELPS me. My anxiety tells me “hey, if you don’t reach out to your friends right now, you’ll be wasting your time. Your friendship will drift apart and die unless you put the effort into maintaining it”. It might be over exaggerating but it gets the job done and forces me to talk to them. To ask “what’s up” and “hope your doing okay”. Even if they don’t respond, at least I can rest easy knowing I did my part and tried to keep this connection alive.

So yeah, it’s kinda crazy how depression and anxiety go hand in hand sometimes. Kinda balances things out in a strange way

[prettyboykatsuki]

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

what i want | s. todoroki 

➳ tags ;; face-sitting, afab!reader, overstimulation, scent kink (?), smut, mdni 18+

➳ wc ;; 1.5k

➳ a/n ;; saw a tiktok + and read this shiggy drabble by @/saintdabi ‘s  and now this concept wont leave me alone in anyway.  literally wrote this like i was posessed... 

➳ plot ;; midoriya sends a certain link in the groupchat. todorki gets curious and clicks. suddenly he wants to try seomthing. 

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

“Can we try something?” 

The question catches you off-guard. Not because it’s a weird and kind of vague question (which it is) but because of who’s asking. Todoroki rarely ever brings things up out of the blue. You’re trying to make dinner so you don’t really have a lot of time to think about why. You dry your wet-hands on the front of your apron, stirring the pot. 

You don’t bother to think twice when you reply to him. 

“What do you wanna try?” 

A silence falls. It’s just a beat too long, which isn’t uncommon for him but isn’t what you expect. You glance over your shoulder after salting the water, squinting. Todoroki almost mirrors you, reading something off his phone. He looks up at you after taking one last glance, as if to make sure he got it right. 

“Face-sitting,” 

You almost fall over. 

He says it so nonchalantly, you’re almost sure you’re hearing things. You brace yourself on the counter and turn down the heat almost entirely, trying to ensure your house doesn’t go down in flames. You blink at him owlishly. 

“Sorry.. can you repeat that?” 

He looks confused. He was sure he said it correctly. He blinks a few times, glances at his phone again as he tilts his head to one side. 

“..face-sitting?”  

You think you’ve gone mad but he looks at you like you’re the one who’s lost it. Your skin grows beyond hot underneath your clothes - a vague emotion of arousal rolling through you. With your mouth agape, you decide that there’s no way you could continue with dinner so you turn it off and stare at him. Nervously, you cross your arms over your chest. 

“.. Where did you..?” 

Todoroki, stoic as ever, shrugs. He looks down at his phone and this time, you can hear the constant buzzing. 

“Midoriya sent a link into the chat on accident. I clicked it,” ― he says, and then seemingly decides this needs absolutely no more explaining than that ― “It looked interesting,” 

You stare at him. 

“Were you... watching porn while I made dinner?” 

He nods. You think you might lose your mind at this rate but you press forward anyways, eyes looking down at his pants. He’s as soft as can be, you’d know. 

“You’re not hard..?” 

He nods, again. Looks at you confused like he has some reason to be. 

“I only get hard with you,” 

You inhale a sharp breath. You think this man might kill you some day, but you’d probably let it happen. Shaking your head, you lean against the counter. With a smile of sympathy, you decide to be straightforward with it. 

“..I’m pretty sure I’d crush you baby,” 

Without missing a single beat, he shakes his head. This time, there’s a faint hint of a blush on his face. 

“I don’t care. I.. really want to,” ― he looks up at you with the most curious eyes you’ve ever seen ― “Please?” 

You’re not sure how to feel. The possibility of mishap is enough to make you want to reject him again but he looks so hopeful. The idea of your beloved boyfriend walking around sulking is guilt-inducing enough to make you sigh and give in. He smiles when you nod. 

You walk over towards him, only really planning on giving him a kiss. You’d been out most of the day and were planning on taking a night-shower after dinner. 

“Okay, well - let me shower first and -” 

He shakes his head, almost petulant. Strong arms wrap around your waist as he drags you down to his lap with an urgency he can’t seem to contain. You yelp audibly, hearing soft breaths in your ear. Something twitches to life underneath you as soon as you sit, making your eyes grow wide. 

“Can’t wait that long and..I like it better like this,” 

Your eyes grow wide. The “this” remains vague but you’ve caught onto how Todoroki seems to like you more before you’ve showered than after. Still, it makes your skin hot. You want to argue with him - about to protest and struggle out of his grip but all of a sudden his voice goes raspy. Soft and low against the nape of your neck. 

“Please, my love. I really want to,” 

You swallow the saliva in your mouth, mind blanking at the sound of his voice. It goes right to your core, a pleasant throb in your shorts. You’re still wearing your apron and PJ’s. You agree maybe too easily, weak to him and his desires. 

“Fine but how do you want to...? On the couch..?” Your words come out unusually meek. You’re never such a nervous person there’s something thick in the air. Palpable desire that makes you weak. 

A warmth settles in your skin as he wastes no time, undoing your apron and letting it fall to the floor. Slender, pretty fingers go into the waist band of your shorts and without a second thought, he helps you slide them off your legs. 

It’s almost like an inspection, how you’re sprawled over his thigh. It’s all happening so fast - your mind moves too slow to keep up. His pointer finger drags across your clothed cunt, chin resting over your shoulders. His brow furrows at the wet-spot on them. A whine leaves you in embarrassment that he ignores. 

“You’re wet already.. sorry to make you impatient,” 

The apology is so genuine you’re not sure how to reply. 

“Here.. I’ll lay like this and you can rest your knees on the cushion,” 

You move off of him and stand to see what he means. He gets himself comfortable, head resting on the armrest of the couch. You blink as he gestures to where you should place yourself. When he says sit on his face, he means sit . He means lean forward so your ass is facing him. The realization hits you like a truck. 

Out of obligation, all the furniture in your house is lavish and this couch is no exception. All white and big enough that you could spread out on it without much effort. You know you’ll fit but you hesitate. Todoroki looks at you patiently but you can practically feel how much he wants it. 

With a little help, you manage to get into position. It’s a little humiliating - the feeling of his warm breath fanning your cunt. You’re still just hovering above him, and you squirm around as best you can. So nervous you think you’ll pass out. 

“Are you sure you want to ― aah!,” 

Without a word of warning, Todoroki pulls you down until the full weight of you ends up on his face. Your panties are still on but he doesn’t seem to pay any attention, his tongue lapping at your clit with such fervor you can’t help but moan. The angle from which he eats you hits the spot so perfectly, works you up until your pussy is practically drooling on his face. 

You let out a feverish squeal at the pleasure, still light but overwhelming enough that you’re wiggling away. Every now again between licks, he lets out a deep groan that vibrates against your sex so sweetly. Your stomach churns as your hands splay on his abdomen. 

“Sh-shouto my, fuck - my panties, you’re gonna get them, hmph” 

He lets you up, ever so briefly, just to whisper a hoarse “sorry,” move your panties just to the side before making you plunge right back down onto his tongue. You taste sweet and slight - but it’s better after a long day. So much stronger in his mouth, he can’t enough of it. 

Saliva and slick drip down his chin and cheeks, further fueled by the way you whimper above him. He eats you out very often but it’s different like this - you can’t go anywhere because his arms are secure around your thighs and his tongue keeps slurping so greedily at your swollen clit. He’ll stop just to feel it pulsate before carrying on with incredible enthusiasm. 

And he moans through it like it turns him on more than him fucking you. You’re honestly inclined to believe it might. His hands that rest on your ass, spreading you apart so he can go just that much deeper. Your nerves are being worked, the sheer stimulation is too much for you. He’s overzealous and shameless about it too. 

“You taste so good my love, fuck” 

Hearing him speak to you makes tears well at your eyes. He slides his tongue over your puffy clit over and over until he hits a rhythm. The constant feeling of pleasure sparks again and again and again until an orgasm so steadily builds in you. 

“Shouto, shouto - baby, please! Slow down or I’ll c-cum,” 

He heard you, he must have because if anything he goes that much faster. So fast that you’re practically sobbing his name, drooling and blindsided as the coil in your belly snaps. You cum so hard and so fast, you think you’re going to see your maker. Your toes curl and your walls flutter. A high whine leaves your mouth. 

“Baby, no more - can’t anymore,” 

He stops but only to speak with an almost delirious voice. Deep and possessive as his hands bury into your hips. 

“I’m not done yet” 

You realize a second too late what you’ve just gotten yourself into. 

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

[iceheartglaceon]

I feel like I don’t see enough of this, probably because it’s a very rare condition, but sexually-induced-sneezing? Fuck that’s so hot. Just imagine, A has this condition, and B has the kink.

A and B have been dating for a while. It’s been slow, a few kisses throughout the day, the occasional lazy make-out session on the couch. Cuddling, sharing a bed at night, exchanging flirty banter, but not quite ready to cross that line. B has noticed during this time something interesting about A. They, sneeze... a lot. B would be absolutely keening over this if it weren’t for the fact they don’t want A to know about their fetish quite yet. Surely A would be weirded out and think they are some gross creep. So B just crosses their legs and tries not to let their voice betray them.

The peculiar thing is A seems to sneeze at the most random times, B honestly thought they were getting sick at first. (They try to ignore the excitement they felt from thinking about that.) A insists it’s just allergies. Ah yeah, that’s pretty normal, but god dammit now their horny brain wants to know what A is allergic to. For... future reference. The answer is simple, a mild allergy to dust. B doesn’t ask further about it.

They are cuddling on the couch when B absentmindedly rubs their hand along the inside of A’s thigh. Their breath slowly becomes deeper and more labored until suddenly-

“Hisshuh!”

A turns and lets out a small, ticklish sneeze. B flinches in panic, trying to mask their arousal at having just felt A spasm with such an adorable sneeze. After recovering, B chuckles. “Bless~”

A groans with embarrassment. “Thanks...”

B can’t help but play the adorable sound over in their head. They nestle closer into A’s neck to plant a kiss, fingers kneading deeper in A’s thigh.

A whines, and again has to turn to the side. “Hh‘tchh, hISSHhh!”

B crosses their legs, pressing them closed as they choke back a moan. “You okay?” They ask, hoping their voice didn’t just crack. They are pretty sure they know the answer, but their doting side wants to make sure.

“Y-Yeah, just allergies again.” A rubs the bridge of their nose to chase away any remaining tickle.

B knows A is talking about their dust allergy, but unless this couch is packing a bunch of hidden debris, B would joke that maybe A is allergic to them. Of course they would never be able to voice that thought, because fuck that would be so hot. Shit, they’re getting too worked up over this, they need to reel it back some.

Pulling back their hand from A’s thigh earns them A trying to snuggle in closer to get the touch back. Only A has to fling up a hand to pinch off another sneeze, having no time to turn in a direction that wouldn’t catch B. “H’ngK! huuuh... s-sorry...”

Fuck fuck fuck, B can’t take this anymore. Just... be subtle. “Don’t worry about it...” They slowly push A down on the couch like they do before one of their lazy make-out sessions. There’s a soft smile as they leave a small kiss on A’s lips. “How’d I manage to score such a cute partner?”

A squeaks as hands trail down from their sides. “I’m not that cute.” They muttered, embarrassed. Maybe there’s a hint of shame in there, if there is, B can’t tell.

Rather than continue kissing A on the lips like usual. B trails some kisses down their neck, and what bit of chest is peeking out from their clothes.

Hands make their way under A’s shirt, and start to pull it up. A shoves B back, keeping them at a distance. “H-Hold on just a s-se-hhh...” A brings back one of their hands to hold up a finger. They snap their head to the side. “Hiisshhiew!” They pause a moment longer like they might sneeze again, before they sigh as the tickle seems to subside. “Sorry... Are you... sure, you want to do this? Take this further I mean?”

B thinks they might melt or combust. Whichever comes first. It takes them a second to register what A just said. “Uhm, yeah. As long as you’re okay with it.”

A seems to think a moment before pulling themselves back up into a sitting position. “There’s something I have to tell you first. It’s a bit weird, and if it grosses you out, I’d understand...”

B tilts their head confused and concerned. They don’t think anything A could say would disgust them, but then they think about their own kink, and wonders if it’s something along that lines. “Try me.”

“I... uh... I’m not actually allergic to dust. I sneeze whenever I’m turned on. It’s been like this since I was a teen. There’s no real way to control it.” A’s voice dithers quieter and quieter as they continue, and they hide their face in tucked up knees.

B’s heart pounds in a way they had no idea was possible. A sneezes because they are aroused by B. Oh what a sense of humor Lady Luck has... “A... I really am not bothered by that.”

A seems surprised. “You... you aren’t? But- Agh, it’s just so gross. No one wants to worry about being sneezed on while trying to have sex.” They groan, hiding their face behind their hands.

“Uh... about that. I’ve been afraid to tell you on the chance you’d think I’m gross, but... I get turned on from sneezing. And I kinda... want to be sneezed on?” B’s face goes completely red, unable to look at A in fear of what expression they’d have.

It’s silent for a moment before A just bursts out laughing. “We really are meant for each other aren’t we?”

B chuckles in return. “Yeah I guess so.” They lay A down again, and straddle their lap.

“Good.” A raises their hips to gently grind against B, teasingly. B grinds back down and leans over A to start sucking on their neck. A moans before speaking up again. “Cause I don’t know how much longer I could deal with a-all this se-hiihh-sexual frustration... HISSHhhiEW!”

[jenomark]

➔Pairing: Jaehyun x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: -.- ➔Genre: Smut ➔Warnings: Oral (F+M) + Penetration (F) + Cursing ➔Word count: 3,659

➔Summary: Two realtors who play together, stay together. Whenever you and Jaehyun work together, you make a little bit of a mess in the homes you're trying to sell for your clients. After all, no one ever said you couldn't have a little fun on the job.

“Your boyfriend is so charming.”

You were showing a married couple around a brand new house, built in a neighborhood they most likely could not afford. While the husband was checking out how the door handles jiggled on every door in the place, his wife leaned in close to your ear, her voice deeper than the fake customer service voice she had in the beginning of the tour.

You could hear the accusatory tone, her words felt through every layer of your reserve, “How did you get a man like that?”

If she could have circled around you, like a huntress ready to take her prey out, she would have taken the chance. You held your ground, so used to the way women acted around Jaehyun. But there was a certain amount of fun to be had when you were bored and waiting, your day's work blemished by couples who believed they were hot shit.

“Just between me and you,” you purred, leaning in closer to her and stroking her arm with your finger. “He’s not my boyfriend. We just like to fuck each other at work."

You never blamed any of the women for looking at Jaehyun like he was a prized hog in a show. He was handsome on the outside, his face so valentine sweet, his smile disarming even the most hardened of ladies. He wore a tailored suit nicely, too, which made the effect that much cavity-inducing. On the inside, though, he was a filthy, filthy man, and he would never go for someone like the wife, as much as she wanted him to.

No, Jaehyun wasn’t your boyfriend. Jaehyun wasn’t even your partner. He came to the house dressed up in the part of a wholesome realtor, his eyes following the wife across the room, forcing eye contact that would make her feel warm underneath her collared blouse. He did it because it was fun for him. He did it because he could.

It was a game. Jaehyun eye-fucked the wife to tease you. He liked when you wore jealousy like a proud bib. He waited for you to take possession of him, which you always did in the subtlest of ways. Watching the wife back away from you after claiming that you and Jaehyun fucked- a tale met with disbelief- was a way to piss all over your territory.

That's mine.

Of course, you could have pushed Jaehyun harder. In doing so, the husband of the pair was a viable conquest. He looked at you with his dumb look when you ran your hand up your stockinged thigh, his jaw slack as you hiked up your skirt inappropriately and unprofessionally high.

However, it wasn’t very fun for you. You could tell the husband was too in love with his wife to ever flirt with you. You gave up quickly, your annoyance waving like a red flag whenever the wife breathed in your direction.

“Are you almost done, sweetie?” you called out to Jaehyun.

“Yes, sweetheart.” Jaehyun said, sticking his head out of a doorway.

You shot a look at the wife, her full attention on Jaehyun as he walked towards you both. She might as well have started taking off her clothes where she stood. She was fanning herself with her hand and wiping sweat from between her cleavage, the telling signs of someone who really wanted to know Jaehyun's cock felt like.

“Your husband is insisting on checking every nook and cranny of this place.” Jaehyun said, a brilliant smile stretched across his face. “I keep telling him there is no need. You won't find a place like this in the city.”

“I’m sorry for his behavior.” the wife said. “He does this all of the time. Nothing is ever good enough for him.”

“I can’t blame him.” Jaehyun said, his eyes roaming down the legs of the wife. “We men love being thorough.”

You slapped a hand against Jaehyun’s chest and tugged on his tie, hoping it would tighten against his throat. “We should get going soon, don’t you think, Jaehyun?”

“Oh, I think we can spare a few minutes, baby.”

The wife was completely ignoring the fact that you were in the room. She took a step towards Jaehyun, batting her eyelashes and pushing out her sweaty breasts. Jaehyun ate up the attention, his eyes practically fucking her right in front of you.

“You are absolutely shameless.” you said, walking away.

You walked through the fully furnished and staged home, finding the husband in the downstairs bathroom (one of three in the house). He wasn’t ugly, but he wasn’t really your type. Still, he gave you the attention that made it easy for you to ignore all of that. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

“Like what you see?” you asked, moving one leg out in front of you so that your skirt rode up. “With the house, I mean.”

“Yeah.” he said. “Might be out of our price range. I'll have to check.”

You walked further into the bathroom, your heels click-clacking on the tile. It took only a few seconds for Jaehyun to find you, like it was a mating call, appearing in the bathroom doorway looking relaxed and ready to fuck. You knew the wife was soon to follow, a look of disappointment on her face that Jaehyun didn’t stick around to flirt with her.

You often wondered what women were thinking when caught with alone time involving Jaehyun. Were they imagining him bending them over the kitchen sink and fucking them? Did they think they were special, that he would sneak away from his dull job for an illicit affair with them? You could be sure that they were mentally undressing him, that they were not at all in tune to the fact that Jaehyun, in the end, only had eyes for you.

“If my girl here hasn’t sold you on the house, we would be delighted to show you to others on another date and time.” Jaehyun suggested.

Jaehyun’s words were final. He wanted them to leave immediately, to take their shit and go. You could hear the sour puss in his voice, the slight quiver in sound. He threw his arm around the wife and brought her closer to him. He let a smile consume him, one that made you grit your teeth. The four of you walked out of the bathroom quarters together, back to the open plan living room to discuss things further.

“You smell wonderful.” Jaehyun murmured to the wife of the pair. He let her go. “Anyway, the price isn't negotiable, but we’ll see what we can do if it’s what you really want. You may have to extend your budget further. If not, there are always others, like I said.”

The wife and husband agreed that the house would never be in their budget before leaving. The husband checked out your tits, and the wife cast one last longing look at Jaehyun over her shoulder, her pink tongue sensually gliding along her lower lip. With a serene smile, Jaehyun shut the door behind them, shutting the world out from you and him.

“You could have charmed the panties off of her.” you said, crossing your arms against your chest.” Pretty sure she would have blown you in front of the fridge if you had stood in the kitchen any longer.”

“Is that why you walked away?” Jaehyun said. “Scared of the competition?”

“Please.” you said. “I just really wanted to get fingerbanged by the husband over the toilet.”

“I can make that a reality.” Jaehyun smirked.

You walked into the kitchen and sat on a stool, smiling to yourself when Jaehyun followed you like a dog. “It’s not fair what you do to them.”

Jaehyun held on to either side of the stool and kept his face inches from yours. “You’re just angry because I win every time.”

“The husband always loves his wife too much.”

“And the wife is always ready to get fucked raw.” Jaehyun said. "By yours truly, of course."

“Maybe I should just start fucking the wife.” you said, peeling Jaehyun’s fingers from the stool.

“I would very much like that.”

“I know you would.” you said, pushing him away.

Jaehyun was pushed back feet from you. He yanked at his tie until it was loosely hanging around his neck. He ran a hand through his sandy brown hair, the ends sticking straight up in some places. You watched him, knowing it was what he wanted. You could see his chest hair peeking out from between the now unbuttoned portion of his dress shirt. The heat began to cover your body like a warm blanket of sin, as you thought about tangling your tongue up in those hairs.

“I can feel you on my skin, even though you haven’t touched me yet.” he whispered.

Jaehyun rolled his neck around, cracking it in some places. When his eyes met yours, the shade of brown appeared somewhat darker. You could feel that look rolling all the way down your stomach until it settled in its depths, curling up in itself. Your nerves felt shot, your confidence gone.

“Doesn’t it just feel so good to give in to me?” Jaehyun asked, his voice a little rough. “Don’t you want to play with me in this big, bad house?”

He came to you, only stopping by the length of your knees. He tucked his fingers underneath your chin and brought your eyesight up to his. He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand. He let his palm run smoothly down your throat, giving it a little squeeze. Your body was unmoving underneath his touch. Sometimes, you would absolutely vibrate with pleasure when Jaehyun touched you. Other times, you would become still like a steel fortress in the wind, wanting him to work a little for your affection, to open up your doors to him like an open house.

The house was empty, but so full at the same time. Jaehyun got down on his knees in a moment of submission, his head down like he was praying. He hugged you, his arms resting on your thighs, his whole being in your lap. It lasted less than a minute until he was back on his feet, a rare sweetness in his eyes as the rest of his body became unfamiliar and rigid.

“Stand up.” he said, his voice cold, the sound of it rattling through the bones of the house. Though there was a faint grin on his lips and a playful eyebrow raised, Jaehyun wasn’t allowing himself to be played with anymore.

You were not quick enough. He took you by the sides of your shoulders and pulled you from the stool. Your knees buckled but Jaehyun caught you in time, the move making your nipples harden. He could see the reaction through your work shirt, your two little buds staring him in the face. All you wanted was for him to touch you, but he wouldn't.

It was fun playing the game with him, since you two were so alike. There were times when you dominated Jaehyun, making him eat you out and cum before the new couples would arrive at the house. If he failed, he would be punished and have to do something embarrassing for him. If he passed, you would both be in a great mood and would usually get a house sold. Then, like now, there were times when Jaehyun took control, which would usually be followed by a lack of sales disappointment. You could always feel those times coming, the excitement unable to be contained.

Jaehyun took your hand and whisked you off through parts of the house where he knew prying eyes wouldn’t find you. He ran up the stairs eagerly, tugging you along behind him, not bothering to see if you were tripping up.

“The master suite.” Jaehyun said, stopping in front of a door. “Wait here.”

He left you standing in front of the closed door for over five minutes. You kept checking the time on your phone, your eyes roaming up and down every detail of the white, wooden door. If he was trying to tantalize you, it was working. You were very impatient, trying your best not to bust through the door and hop right on his dick.

“Come in.” Jaehyun said.

You held onto the handle, the image of the husband jiggling that very handle less than an hour ago fresh on your mind.

“I won’t tell you twice.” Jaehyun said.

You opened the door and saw Jaehyun sitting on the edge of a model bed. He had stripped it of the crisp sheets and fluffy pillows that were adorning it. He was shirtless and his dress pants were unbuttoned, his brown leather belt hanging by his sides.You drank him in like that, the impatience waning away.

“Come closer.” he said.

“So bossy.” you smiled.

You walked closer. Since you knew that you affected him as much as he affected you, every step felt delicious. You stood in front of him, ready to rip your business skirt off if he just said the magic words.

“Good girl.” he said, standing up.

He was looming over you, the heat from his body making you hot. You wanted to press your hands to his sweaty chest and push him down onto the bed. You wanted to bite his shoulder so hard that it made him cry out. You wanted to sit on that strong jaw, rocking your body over him until he was suffocating.

“Look me in the eyes,” he said. “Don’t look at my body, like I’m a piece of meat.”

“A little bit of disobedience never hurt anyone.” you said, meeting his eyes.

It was difficult to keep your eyes trained on his when you could hear him unzipping his pants. Each click of the teeth made your clit throb, like his tongue was already gliding over it. You could hear his pants falling down to his ankles, and from the corner of your eye, could see him shift slightly to step out of them until he was naked. With your imagination, you thought of him stroking his cock, pumping his fist up and down his shaft.

“Are you with me?” Jaehyun breathed. “Be with me right now.”

You nodded as the sounds of him masturbating heightened. Jaehyun moaned and let his eyes disconnect from yours. Though he was looking down at his cock, you were looking at the top of his pretty head. There were thousands of hairs you could tug and pull to get him to comply, to have him give you his cock. You could feel the tip of him and his fist rubbing against you as he made it upwards, each stroke nearly punching you, because he was so close.

You looked down, the top of your head skimming his. He was going at it slowly, moving his body like he was fucking his own fist. It was so sexy that you could feel all the nerves in your body tingling. Though his pleasure didn't happen to you, you could feel every grain of it. You breathed heavily with him, your body going through the build up with Jaehyun.

Your eyes met him again. Yours were, no doubt, asking him why he was being so cruel. It took a minute for him to stop, for Jaehyun to set his mouth in a grim line, and to cock his head and look lost in thought.

“This isn’t about you.” he said. “This isn’t about your pleasure. On your knees and put my cock in your mouth. Don’t stop sucking until I say.”

As you got slowly to your knees, your lips slid down his stomach, your kisses rushed before he could decline them. You grabbed hold of his cock, the tip of him resting on your bottom lip before you looked up at him. He held your side of the neck before moving to the back of your head and forcing his cock down your throat until your eyes watered.

Fucking in a place that didn’t belong to you was thrilling. The owners could come back any second and catch you in the act. There could be cameras installed, or nosy neighbors coming to check up on the people who owned the lone car that sat in the driveway.

“Is it good?” Jaehyun asked, his voice velvety smooth. "How do I taste?"

You sucked his cock without stopping, testing him with both lips, tongue, and fingers. You brought him back so far into your throat that you choked and took him out with a string of saliva. You swallowed that, too, so grateful to have him in any of your holes.

Jaehyun pulled his cock out and teased himself back inside of your mouth slowly. You let your jaw hang open and laid your tongue flat while he fucked your face. You gripped his thighs and let your fingernails dig into him before he came on your tongue, grabbing a handful of your hair at release.

When he ordered you to stand up, he was still leaking. He wasn’t stopping for anyone, not even when you made a show of wiping his cum off of your chin with your finger and slipping it into your mouth.

"It tastes yummy." you said.

“Clothes off,” Jaehyun said, ignoring you. “Kneel on the bed.”

He wasn’t losing his erection. He treated his cock like it was delicate, holding it in his hands and stroking it gently. You watched him as you stripped, taking a little too long with the stockings. Jaehyun ended up ripping them from your legs and tossing them aside. Without saying another word, he grabbed your ankles and pulled you down to the edge of the bed, nearly making you faceplant on the mattress.

“Fuck.” you whispered, your body jerking in surprise as Jaehyun started eating you out from behind.

He wasn’t shy about it either. He was licking you, moving his head side to side and up and down, just to get every bit of you. His lips were so warm and you were so wet, that you had to sink your upper half onto the bed and place your forehead against your arm. Jaehyun squeezed your ass cheeks and pushed you forward, his tongue lapping up all of your wetness.

You didn’t want to break, to crumble. You wanted to be strong and not moan or give in completely. You didn’t want to let him know that he could bring you down with just a lick, but it was hard not to.

“Beg me.” Jaehyun said, coming up for air.

He smacked your ass and you turned around until you were on your back. It was rough and forceful, and it turned you on. Jaehyun kissed your ankle before moving his lips down your thigh.

“Beg me.” he repeated. “Fucking do it now.”

The hotness on your inner thigh as his mouth got higher was enough to make you call his name. “Please, Jaehyun.” you said. “Don’t stop.”

Jaehyun ate you out, slipping his fingers inside of you. He would occasionally stop and kiss his way up your body to leave hickeys on your neck, and catch glimpses of your face to see if you were enjoying it.

“Not about my pleasure, huh?” you asked, nearly laughing.

Jaehyun groaned. “Don’t ruin it.”

“Too late.” you said, moaning as he fingered you. “You smell like her.”

You kissed his neck and got the bite you wanted from his shoulder. You held him against you, making sure your scent was all over him. His mouth tasted like you, though. You kept kissing him and grabbing at his hands to make sure they didn’t stop fucking you. You were a tangle of bare limbs, holding him against you, and fighting for dominance.

Jaehyun lifted his fingers from your pussy and held himself up over you. He looked you in your eyes, his gaze falling to your lips before he kissed them. He moved his body and slipped his cock inside of you, knocking the air from your mouth.

Missionary position was not your favorite. It was too romantic, not as wild. You wanted him to break your back, to bend you into positions that made your legs wobble the next day. You wanted risk. You wanted it rough. But having Jaehyun’s weight on top of you in that way felt different. You let him move over you, holding your hips as he drilled himself inside of you.

It didn’t last long until you were wanting to flip him over, until you could be on top and ride him. Jaehyun smirked when he realized what you were doing and said, “I don’t think so.”

He leaned up until his sweaty body wasn’t clinging to yours anymore. He spread your thighs apart after pulling you closer to him. He let you get a good view of his cock disappearing inside of you.

“This pussy is mine.” he said, touching his fingers to your clit. “Say it’s mine.”

“It’s mine.” you said.

Jaehyun fucked you faster, his cock hitting your cervix a little rougher. You winced at the discomfort you quite liked, immediately wanting him to keep fucking you deeper.

“Say it.” he said, moaning with each thrust.

“Or what?” you challenged, breathlessly trying to hold yourself together.

Jaehyun gripped your wrists and brought them above your head. He got close to you again, his body smothering yours, and his cock fucking you in a way that was too good to stop.

“I’m yours.” you said. “It’s yours. All of it is yours.”

He smiled when he got what he wanted, the same charming smile that seemed to have most women on tenterhooks, wondering if they would give them something else of his. Jaehyun never would, though, because everything of his was also yours.

[bloomyagi]

bleed me dry (m)

summary: where Itadori is your bottom-loving boyfriend and Sukuna reluctantly learns this vessel is the real curse. or: where seduction is a dangerous game, and the King of Curses loses.

pairings: itadori x f!reader, sukuna x f!reader

warnings: subby itadori, sub sukuna (yeah you read that right), light bondage, blindfolds, sukuna’s havin a whole ‘reconsidering life’s meaning’ moment, lotta swear cause u know sukuna things, coming untouched, he faints (yeah you also read that right) and is actually unabashed about it, all things considered

length: 1,432

notes: what? me? obsessed with jjk? that doesn’t sound like me at all! 

.

.

.

His vessel is in love.

The word curdles in his mouth, tastes like ash. He has never known such a thing. It is part of his nature, he muses absently. Hardened from centuries of death and decay. Of destruction and war. He revels in it. Feels the most alive amongst the chaos.

But that’s the point. Curses can feel. They can have emotional attachment. Can’t you see? In so many ways, they’re not so different from us. He thinks you’re too loud. Your thoughts and beliefs are too loud. They’re also pointless and naïve, and he likes to pop by just to drive it home.

Hello, Sukuna. Where is the fear? Where is the resentment, the anger? The disgust? He enjoys it. But you—you just sit there and coax him into conversation like he’s another one of your classmates. Like he can’t crush your windpipe with a single flick of his hand. Like he isn’t the slow bleed of a death sentence for your lover. Like he isn’t anything at all. Like his titles and powers are stripped. What is he beyond it all? Who is he?

You ask about him sometimes. He rarely gives any indication he’s listening, but he does. Of course he does. There’s not much to do, bound and locked in this pink-haired boy. He lounges on this throne and watches his vessel pine and blush.

Sukuna watches his vessel fuck his fist and mewl your name every night.

It’s sad. “Brat,” he hisses. “Grow some balls. This is just pathetic.”

Itadori swallows. “Oh. Can you—?”

Sukuna shoves him off the ledge. A faint yelp travels, followed by a large splash. “Fuck her already. All this sitting and plotting is making my ass itch. If you won’t, I will.”

“You wouldn’t.” Sukuna tilts his head to peer down. Itadori’s eyes are narrowed, uncharacteristically solemn.

His lips bare into a slow grin. “Try me.”

Itadori blinks once. And then vanishes.

.

.

.

Fuck. It’s the only coherent thought his muddled mind can pierce together. He gazes down at his palm, opening and closing languidly. His vision is blurry, spine tingling. He raises the other hand, reaching for his palm.

Mmm. He shakes his head firmly. The sharp tinge of metallic and iron coating his tongue clears the fog a little. The pain fades quickly, muted from his years of conquest and ruin.

Every nerve is on fire. His skin, this flesh cage, burns, an unfamiliar heat curling in his lower stomach. Sukuna is no stranger to the pleasures of the flesh—is well-acquainted, spent much of the centuries indulging in his vast harems. In the haze of blood and carnage, there is the memory of writhing bodies, of soft thighs and breasts, of glazed eyes and cries of his name. Of women fucked into wanton abandon, bred and lost in the worship of his cock.

But this. This heat is foreign in every sense. In its strange intensity and all-encompassing hold. All his senses are heightened but laser focused on the other pair of hands mapping his body. On the addicting sensations they’re inducing.

Can you—? Yes. Yes, he fucking can. He can feel everything and he wants to wrap his hand around your throat and squeeze.

His eyes roll back. Ngh.

“Fucking wench,” he snarls. You’re a fuckin’ tease and if you edge him again, he is going to murder—

“Ah, ah. Watch your language, Sukuna. Ask nicely.”

He jolts. Finds his eyes cloaked in darkness, arms tied to his back and legs spread. Bare, save for a pair of briefs that’s slick and restricting. Kneeling. The sheets bunch beneath him. Every muscle in his body is tensed, body coated in a thin layer of sweat.

This position—!

“That brat—mmph!” Is that a fucking—gag? Did you just gag him? He struggles harder against the binds, but he feels your lips curl into a smile where you’re suckling against the column of his neck.

“You’re powerless here. The binds will restrict you for the next twenty-four hours … unless you can be good.” You trace the thick knots, smiling only growing at the way he lets out a muffled growl.

Every fucking sense is heightened tenfold. He’s on firefirefire. The flames consuming him inside out, like he’s being exorcised from within.  

It’s humiliating. It’s exhilarating. It feels—

“King of Curses. I want you to beg.” You’re a witch. You’re enthralling. Temptation incarnate. His head falls forward, chest heaving.

“Mmmmf!”

“What a dirty mouth,” you murmur, and his struggling is renewed when he feels your fingers dig into his thighs.

Oi, brat, he growls. What the hell is this?

His vessel is silent, but the back of his mind prickles. He’s watching. That freaky little shit.

“So stubborn. Let go. You’re good at that, aren’t you?” Fuckfuckfuck, you’re palming his cock over the thin fabric. Maybe it’s been a while, maybe there’s a little more truth lurking beneath it, but he vaguely notes he’s never been so hard before.

You—! You’re fuckin’ burning his briefs off. Ash tickles his nose. A small part of him thinks it’s hot. His cock throbs, and even without visual confirmation, he knows you’ve paused at the sheer size. His mouth curls into a lopsided smirk, dark pride making his chest swell. What was he so worked up for? You’ll just end being another one of his breeding bitches, fucked stupid by his thick, long cock.

But then you pinch his left nipple, twisting harshly. Electricity courses through him and a sound he’s never heard in his absurdly long life escape his lips, muffled by the gag. His back arcs, head hitting the mattress beneath him.

His mind blanks, eyes rolling back as white noise fills his ears.

.

.

.

He rouses slowly.

He blinks lethargically at the ceiling, gaze unfocused. Everything feels muted, limbs heavy like he’s swimming in a pool of ink. But he’s not restrained anymore. There’s a blur of movement in the corner of his eye.

He turns his head to peer at you, half-lidded.

“That’s a very nice expression,” you chuckle, moving to sit by his side. The mattress dips lightly. He lifts a hand to tug at the hem of your outfit, expression twisting at the staggering movement.

“That’s a very nice look on you,” he murmurs in response. You’re wearing one of his vessel’s dress shirts, the oversized fabric falling mid-thigh. It simultaneously swallows you and presses against your curves. Something inside him stirs. His throat feels shot, even though he knows he hasn’t had much of a chance to speak.

You help him sit up, propped against the headrest, before offering him a glass of water. His lips lift into a half-smirk and you sigh, shaking your head but acquiescing. You take a mouthful before kissing him. Water dribbles down his chin.

You wipe it away with a half-fond, half-exasperated expression. His chest tightens.

“How long—?” He tries to move, but you stop him with a firm hand. He’s conflicted at the way his body responds immediately to the touch. His temperature flares despite his obvious fatigue.

“A few hours. I asked if Yuuji would keep you out until you woke.”

There’s a pause, and the knowing look in your eye tells him you know he’s mulling it over.

And then—

He reaches for you, and you set the glass aside to climb on his lap.

He bares his fangs. “Then let’s make the most of it.”

As you press him into the bed, tongue stroking his in such a manner his brain is starting to haze over again quickly, he thinks, brat, we’re going to have a long talk after this.

Sukuna doesn’t expect an answer after his vessel’s continued vigil, so he starts when Itadori replies, she’s ours.

I don’t share, he slurs. He thinks he sees a flicker of Itadori’s grin.

You’re going to have to. Because you like her, too. And she’s the one in control, not either of us.

Dimly, Sukuna acknowledges he’s right. You might be the one bouncing on his cock, but he’s not the one fucking you, you’re the one fucking him.

Fine, he gasps as you run your nails down his abdomen. Deal.

Good, his vessel says. Because I’m next, and you better not get in the way.

He growls, eyebrows knitting.

Your smile only grows.

[joaquinwhorres]

gazes (joaquín torres x reader)

SUMMARY ››››› It's become increasingly apparent to Sam and Bucky that you and Joaquin cannot take your eyes off each other. Unfortunately for them, you two have decided to be Professionals and that means keeping your eyes, hands, and lips to yourselves. No matter how difficult it is.

WORD COUNT ››››› 3,716

WARNINGS ››››› sexy times implied

A/N ››››› Ok so these headcanons y'all have been sending me are incredible. I read these two back to back and I just had to write something connecting them.

The kid had no tact.

Sam wasn't exactly sure why he expected more from the guy who'd led into his theory that Steve was on the moon by referencing vague internet rumors, but even despite that, he'd assumed Joaquin possessed some sense of subtlety.

Instead he was over at the leg press trying and failing not to stare at Y/N as she bent over at the middle to help Bucky push deeper into the stretch.

"You know she could hit you with a harassment claim for staring at her like that."

Joaquin jumped, the weights dropping suddenly with a loud clang. Across the gym, Bucky laughed as Y/N whipped around to face the two men. "Everything ok?" Her voice sounded genuinely concerned, and Sam couldn't help but smirk as Joaquin turned towards her, giving a little wave.

"Foot slipped," he answered, and she nodded, turning back to Bucky quickly.

"Foot slipped," Sam mocked.

"Dude, you scared the shit out of me."

"If you paid half the amount of attention you give to Y/N to your surroundings, you'd have known I'd been standing here for three minutes."

Joaquin gave a defensive scoff. "I wasn't staring at her--I was just--" he stopped, searching for an excuse, and Sam raised his eyebrows.

When it was clear Joaquin couldn't find a convincing enough lie to end the sentence, Sam shook his head. "You know, if you talk to her, she might actually let you take her out."

"I talk to her," Joaquin protested.

Sam shook his head, uncrossing his arms. "No, I mean talk to her. Chat her up. You've gotta have some game, right?"

"I've got game..." His sentence trailed off as he turned to look in her direction, finding her standing over Bucky's feet with her hands on her hips. "But like, we're co-workers, you know? I don't want to make things awkward around the gym or the compound or anything."

"Joaquin," Sam said, laying a hand on his shoulder. "You're already making things awkward."

"He's staring at your ass again."

"And you're trying to get out of stretching again," you quipped, moving Bucky's leg closer to his chest. The super soldier tilted his head as if to acknowledge the legitimacy of your accusation.

"Doesn't change the fact that I think you're about to give him a heart attack."

"I highly doubt he's worried in the slightest about my ass. He's probably zoned out."

"He's definitely focused in...on--"

"On my ass," you finished, shaking your head. You might have given Bucky's claim a little more credence if it weren't for the fact that Joaquin Torres had been anything but the consummate professional towards you. He was friendly and upbeat and welcoming, and one of the few genuinely good guys you'd ever had the pleasure of working with.

You'd never caught him staring once, and it's not like the boy was exactly known for subtlety. Last time Bucky had asked him to cover for him so you couldn't come down and teach him the right way to train his body, he'd told you that Bucky had left the compound to get you a thank you gift for all of your hard work. All while staring at the gym door.

The heavy sound of weights falling against each other echoed throughout the gym, and you spun around to face the sound. Sam hovered over Joaquin's shoulder, the latter no longer working the leg press but instead looking as if he'd just received the scare of his life.

Bucky broke into laughter, and you smacked at his leg.

"Everything ok?" you called out, and Joaquin smiled, giving a sheepish little wave at you. "Foot slipped."

"It's a good thing he wasn't at the bench press. You might have killed him."

Your head snapped back to Bucky who was giving you a shit eating grin.

"You're an asshole."

"I'm right."

"Do you think if I ask nicely Wakanda will take you back?"

"So you know I'm right."

You chanced a glance back at Joaquin who was still talking to Sam before turning back around and placing your hands on your hips. "I'm calling Ayo."

You were running early.

Not to any event in particular, but just for the general course of your day. It was rare for you to wake up to your first alarm so completely refreshed, and with a fully awake brain, you found it much easier to navigate the morning. You were able to get dressed without crawling back in bed for a few more minutes, and didn't have to battle with sleepy indecision when choosing what you wanted to eat for breakfast.

One thing after another just continued to roll your way, leading you to the gym much earlier than usual.

And that's where the luck stopped.

Or maybe it didn't stop. But it definitely took a turn. Because while you fully expected someone else to be in the gym already, you hadn't expected just one person to be in the gym. And even if you had, you wouldn't have guessed that that one person would be Joaquin. And if, for some reason, you'd had the foresight to sense that, you definitely never would have pictured him to be running on the treadmill shirtless.

You stopped in your tracks, eyes falling to the bouncing dog tags on his chest and then lower to the well defined abs you'd somehow never seen before.

It felt like you'd seen just about every man in this compound shirtless. At some point, they all seemed to strip in the gym or during one of your group training classes you ran for those who weren't field agents. Bucky was shirtless half the time you worked together. It was so normal, you hardly even blinked an eye anymore. Seeing Sam without a shirt was more rare and quite the sight, but it'd never caught your breath quite like seeing Joaquin. Joaquin, who had never so much as worn a tank top in the gym, Joaquin.

And now here he was, chest bare and heaving, feet pounding rhythmically against the treadmill, hair still messy from his pillow and sweat. Your brain couldn't seem to function correctly, offering you images of the sight before you, only closer. Much closer. Hovering inches over your stretched out body as the headboard behind you rammed into the wall with the force of each thrust--

"Hey," Joaquin greeted, noticing you standing off to the side. You blinked, heat rushing to your face as he turned the treadmill down to a more leisurely pace. "Something wrong with my form?"

It was tempting to lie and offer to "help him fix it." Or to be completely honest and tell him you'd never seen a human form as perfect as his.

But neither of those responses were professional or even appropriate, and you needed this job.

You swallowed, shaking your head. "No, I was just wondering why you were wearing those," you said, gesturing to his dog tags, and allowing your eyes to fall to his chest once more. You followed a bead of sweat as it rolled down his body, heading to the waistband of his shorts. Joaquin reached to touch his tags, causing them to jingle together once more and pull your attention up to him.

"It's hard to let them go," he smiled, ruefully, hitting the button so the belt slowed even more. "I'd say it's a habit, putting them on, but at this point they're just like a part of me."

You nodded, wishing you'd taken this conversation anywhere but to the idea of dog tags and what they stood for. It wasn't so much a mood killer but a guilt inducer because instead of you feeling embarrassed and somber, all you wanted to do was grab them and pull him closer to you.

He must have read the conflict on your face because he gave a crooked smile. "Yeah, sorry, it's kinda morbid."

"No," you shook your head, clearing it of the daydream induced fog. "I probably shouldn't have asked."

"No, nah, it's cool," his smile grew into grin, as the belt came to a stop. He leaned his forearms against the console, staring at you as if waiting for you to continue the conversation. Which you were not equipped to do with a smiling and shirtless and sweaty Joaquin Torres right before you.

"Well, thanks for being cool about it," you said with a nod.

My God, something was wrong with you. They were just abs. And sure, maybe the abs belonged to the man who not only found the time to moonlight as a superhero but star in your increasingly dirty dreams of late, but it was just a body party that you'd seen a million times.

But never on Joaquin.

You blamed everything your brain was doing to you on Bucky and all of his stupid comments about Joaquin's supposed fixation on your ass. You wondered what he would say if he could see you now. "And I thought I was half machine. I could practically see your brain short circuiting." or "If that's what you're like when you see him half-naked, how are you ever going to--"

"Yeah, of course," Joaquin said, still smiling, his eyes lifting up over your shoulder as the other door to the gym opened and Sam came in. "Hey," he greeted with a jerk of his chin.

"Hey," Sam said, drawing closer, his eyes on you. You forced a smile on to your own face, and lifted a hand, not trusting anything that was coming out of your mouth.

"You're here early," the other man said, stepping onto the treadmill next to Joaquin's, and putting his water bottle down next to the machine.

Both of them were looking at you now, and it's not like you could handle staying in this gym any longer. "I came down looking for my water bottle. I think I left it here yesterday."

Sam raised his eyebrows glancing around the gym, and Joaquin stepped down off of the machine. "Do you want help looking for it?" he asked, and your whole body seemed to tense up at the idea, your brain transporting you to a future scenario where the two of you wandered around the room, Joaquin next to you or behind you, so close you could feel the heat radiating off of him, all the while searching for a water bottle that was sitting on your dresser.

"No." Your voice came out too high, but you tried to play it off, shaking your head. "I've already interrupted your workout enough. It's either by the weights or not in here."

"Alright," he nodded. "If you need any help looking around the compound though, let me know."

"Thanks," you said. And then you gave another stupid wave and beelined it for the weight racks because you had to get out of here.

You made a show of looking next to each section of weights, even bending over to check underneath of them as if it could have been knocked under somewhere. After you felt an appropriate amount of time had passed to be convincing, you straightened up, empty handed. You turned back to Joaquin and Sam, both watching you rather than continuing their workouts as you might have hoped.

"Not here," you called back with a shrug and then left the gym and headed straight up to your shower.

He was nothing if not predictable.

The minute Y/N bent over to check behind the weight rack, his eyes were glued to her. Or perhaps more accurately, the bright teal spandex shorts she wore. As she pulled herself back up from searching for her water bottle and turned to them, Joaquin quickly looked to Sam as if the two had been talking the whole time and then "casually" returned to her.

"Not here!" she said, shrugging and then walking out of the gym, her footsteps quick and purposeful as she left through the door Sam had just entered by.

"So, what'd I interrupt?"

Joaquin looked up at Sam as if remembering he was there. "What?"

"You know, when the two of you were sitting by this machine making eyes at each other? Did you actually say anything to her or….?"

Joaquin shook his head. "No, she just came in and, uh, we chatted for a second, and then…" he trailed off, as if not fully remembering any of the past ten, twenty, however many minutes.

"You just chatted," Sam repeated, the disbelief on his face edging into his voice.

"Yeah," Joaquin nodded.

"Anywhere in this chat you finally ask her out?"

"Nah, it didn't feel right."

"It didn't--she was practically taking off the other half of your clothes with her eyes," Sam sputtered, gesturing to Joaquin's shorts.

The kid laughed and shook his head as if Sam didn't know what he was talking about. Joaquin moved to exit the gym as well. "I'll see you later, man," he said, leaving a very exasperated Sam behind.

Bucky Barnes was a motherfucking liar.

"Let's grab a drink on Friday," he said.

"Consider it me making it up to you for being such a pain in your ass," he said.

"I'll buy," he said.

Mothefucker.

This wasn't just you and your favorite co-worker getting a drink. This was a goddamn set up. Because one hour and three mojitos into the night, Sam and Joaquin walked in the front door.

"I fucking hate you," you said, glaring up at his stupid smug face.

"Well, what a surprise, he grinned, as you shook a finger up at him.

"I told you in confidence I'm a flirty drunk."

He snorted, giving you a look out the side of his eyes. "You told me you were a flirty drunk after you sent me several highly inappropriate drunk text messages about what you wanted to do to a certain Lieutenant, who," the self-satisfied smile was back on Bucky's face. "Is making his way over to us right now."

"When I get home, I swear to God, I'm buying you a ticket to Wakanda."

Bucky quirked an eyebrow. "You're not going to do it now?"

"I didn't bring my credit card because you said you were paying," you huffed.

Before Bucky could respond, Sam and Joaquin were next to the two of you, greeting Bucky with hand slaps and one armed hugs. Sam came around and wrapped an arm around you first before sliding into the seat next to Bucky, and Joaquin came forward, giving you a quick hug.

Which was a first.

More than the feeling of his back underneath your palm, or the way he seemed to emanate warmth, you were done in by how absolutely incredible he smelled. But before you could fully identify whether it was his shampoo, a cologne, or just him, he pulled away and took the only other available seat near the group--the one next to you.

"I see you started without us," Sam said, raising his eyebrows at the assortment of glasses that sat before you. Most of them were Bucky's as he downed beers faster than should have been humanly possible.

"Hard drinker, huh Y/N," Joaquin teased, shooting you a smile.

"Pfft," you dismissed. "Only three are mine."

"Three?" Sam asked, leaning forward to better look at you. "How long have you been here?"

"An hour," you said, completely unnecessarily leaning forward too.

Bucky shrugged. "I got the time wrong."

"Guess we better catch up then," Joaquin said, and you sank back into your chair, narrowing your eyes at him in challenge.

"If you can."

They did.

You were outpaced fairly quickly against the two soldiers and one super soldier. The rum-induced fuzziness around the edges of your brain was compounded by having Joaquin so close to you. At some point he'd pulled his chair a bit closer to yours so that he could better hear the conversation, and you don't remember when it happened, but his arm had also slid around the back of your chair. To your relief neither Bucky nor Sam seemed to acknowledge this. In fact, Bucky was positively quiet and normal all things considered. Everything was going better than you could have expected.

Until the music kicked up.

Sam was the first to be dragged onto the dance floor. He was Captain America. Of course he'd been targeted by the stunning girl in the red dress who'd only had to come up and ask "Does Captain America dance?" to succeed in pulling him off to the dance floor.

Bucky was next. Although he wasn't tugged onto the dance floor by his hand the way Sam was. It was the sight of the person in the tight black number that did him in, luring him away to the dance as if drawn by a magnet.

And then it was you and Joaquin, sitting at the bar. Alone. Together.

You looked up from your drink, pushing the straw down into the ice to stir up the clinking sounds, and he took a swig of his beer before putting the bottle back down on the bar.

"Alright, let's dance," he said, nodding with his head towards the crowd, and you let out a disbelieving snort.

"I don't know how to dance. I mean, I can dance," you attempted to clarify, although you had a feeling words were failing you at the moment. "But that's real dancing, and I can't do that."

"I guess you're lucky you have a really good teacher asking you to dance then," Joaquin grinned, holding out a hand. You looked down at his open palm, hesitating only for a second before you slid your hand into his and jumped down from your chair.

He led you out through the moving bodies expertly, dodging couples who were clearly more into the dancing than each other and couples where the complete opposite was true. The small bit of space he found you was closer to the center of the dance floor than you'd usually feel comfortable with, but when he turned towards you with that look on his face, any of your residual anxiety had vanished.

"Ok, come close," he said, and you took a small step closer to him, causing him to laugh. "Closer." He gestured, and you moved forward some more, Joaquin's hands finding their way to your hips and pulling you even closer. His hands rose, one finding its way to your mid-back, pushing your elbow up to rest on his, as the other took your hand and placed it over shoulder.

"This ok?" he asked, eyebrows raised, and you nodded, trying to keep your attention on him, his instructions and his words, and not the way that you could feel just about every part of him from the way he was angled against you. His right side was flush against your left, and his knee pushed between yours.

"Just follow me," he said, his head bent close to yours. Before you could even respond, he started to move, pulling you along with him through the dance. It was smooth and rolling and you'd never seen a guy able to roll his hips like Joaquin. He seemed to know exactly how to guide you, moving his body to push and pull yours along whenever you hesitated or felt lost, coaxing waves and movements out of you that you didn't know you could do. Each success was met with a small word of praise and a brilliant smile, as his hands shifted to hold you closer, and you wrapped your own hand around his neck to better feel and predict his movements.

It felt as if a fog had rolled in over the dancefloor, obstructing all else from view so it was just you and Joaquin, eyes locked to each other as you moved together, occupying the same space.

The song faded into the next one, and Joaquin stopped. You went to move backwards, to give him space and have him move on as many other of the more skilled dancing couples seemed to do, switching partners amongst each other. But he kept you close to him, hand sliding down to your waist.

"Now you can really dance," he teased, his eyes shining as they stared into yours.

"Only with you." It was supposed to be a self-deprecating joke, but it came out too quiet and earnest. Joaquin licked his lips, and your eyes followed the gesture, flickering between his mouth and his eyes.

You don't remember making the decision. You only remember, moving even further into his arms, and pushing yourself up to reach his lips with your own. He bent down to meet you, pulling you even closer and pressing his hard body into yours. His lips moved as slowly and sensually as his hips had, drawing you in and guiding you through a careful rhythm that promised much, much more.

Sam sat with Bucky at the bar. Joaquin and Y/N had disappeared somewhere amongst the dance floor, hidden amongst the crowd.

"You think it worked?" Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow at Sam.

"If it didn't we're screwed," Sam shook his head, taking a swig from his drink.

As if on cue, the two emerged from the swaying bodies, hand in hand, sweaty and much happier than they had been when Sam had left them at the bar.

"We're gonna head back to the compound," Joaquin said with practiced casualness.

"Yeah?" Bucky asked, and Sam swore there was mischief literally glinting in his eyes.

"Yeah," Joaquin nodded too fast and too many times. "Yeah, Y/N forgot about something there…"

"What'd you forget?" Bucky asked, turning to Y/N with a wolfish smile.

"Nothing. We're going to have sex," Y/N said, flatly, causing Sam to nearly spit out his drink. "And if you say one more word, I know a pilot who will fly you to Wakanda himself. No ticket needed."

Bucky mimicked zippering his lips into a smug look, and she rolled her eyes before tugging Joaquin out of the bar by his hand. And he followed. Eyes glued to her ass.

[moonctzeny]

Can I request WayV reaction to you suddenly avoiding skinship/intimacy because you don't feel attractive anymore after they rejected you once? (they were tired or just not in the mood at that time)

WayV reaction - you avoid intimacy out of insecurity after they rejected your skinship

warnings: WinWin's gets a tiny bit suggestive, alcohol consumption

▪️Kun

He looked so good when he cooked. You couldn’t stop your eyes from following the veins on his arms as he cut the various vegetables in the smallest of pieces. Your fingers ached to run across their length so you let them, stroking the little hairs in the opposite direction from their growth in the meantime.

“Y/n, not now”, he whines with a strictness in his voice that has you withering away from him.

You stayed quiet for the rest of the cooking, watching Kun in silence until he finally put the dish in the oven to cook. He walks over to your seat on the countertop, fitting himself between your legs. His hands find their place on each of your shoulders, making their way down to your elbows lovingly, yet you go rigid at the feeling and back away from his touch.

“Y/n, are you okay?”

“Do I annoy you sometimes?”

Kun’s eyebrows shoot up at your question, dropping his hands immediately to wrap them around your wrists instead.

“Never. What makes you think that?”

“You seemed pretty annoyed at me when you were cooking earlier”

His face stays frozen for a second, trying to figure out what exactly you were talking about. You’re taken aback when he starts to laugh light-heartedly, planting a kiss on your pouty lips.

“I didn’t tell you to stop because I didn’t like you touching me, baby. I needed you to stop because I liked it too much”

▪️Ten

You avoided his kisses like the plague. He wasn’t sure what had gotten into you, usually your nights visiting his dorm consisted of the both of you cuddling each other to death, napping in sheets that smelled of him and inviting the cats that snuggled between you. However now, the more he tried to approach you, the more you scooted away from him, and your excuses were starting to run out.

“Are you avoiding me or something?”

You shake your head negatively, avoiding eye contact so that he doesn’t see through you. But Ten is intuitive, especially when it comes to you, so he repeats the question again until he gets a sigh as an answer.

“You told me off pretty badly when I tried to kiss you an hour ago you know…”

“When I was drawing? You pushed my hand on accident and I missed like, half of my work!”

When he sees you continuing to be visibly upset at him, despite his light and teasing tone, he lifts your hand from your lap to his lips, kissing your wrist, then your palm, then your ring finger.

“I’m sorry if I said something I shouldn’t”, he leans over to peck your lips mid-sentence, and his voice is too soothing for you to resist him, “You know how much I love to kiss you.”

As if to prove his point he brings you closer again, and he smiles into the kiss when he feels you deepening it.

“I could taste your lips forever”

▪️WinWin

▪️WinWin

Your boyfriend was never big on skinship and you knew. You understood his paranoia of holding hands in public, even with sunglasses and a big mask covering half of his handsome face. Being a celebrity isn’t easy and you had come to terms with that, but you didn’t know he would react so coldly to you in this private party with his members being the only ones invited.

You were a little tipsy, holding on to Sicheng’s arm for stability, and admittedly you just wanted a little love from your boyfriend. Pulling his hair out of his eyes, you pucker your lips at him, waiting for a kiss that never came.

“What is up with you today? You’re all over me!”

The drive home was quiet, your whole body facing away from him, eyes staring outside the window or anywhere else but him. You weren’t angry, just sad if anything else, and Sicheng felt he had enough when you started to storm off to your shared bedroom without him. A hand on your wrist stops you abruptly.

“Why are you like this? You’ve been quiet ever since we left the party”

“Do you not find me attractive anymore?”

The filter between your brain and mouth had vanished from the alcohol, shocking Sicheng with your candor.

“What on earth makes you think that?”

“You never kiss me in front of your friends. It’s like you're embarrassed of being seen with me…”

Your boyfriend’s eyebrows furrow, almost meeting on the base of his forehead before he pushes you up against the entrance door. The kiss he initiates is full of passion and something animalistic that you’ve always thought looks good on him. It isn't long before the hands that you so desperately needed on your body before formed bruises on the skin over your hipbones.

“The reason why I don’t kiss you in public is because I won’t be able to stop, not when you always look so pretty. And then I will make you look needy and breathless and messy, just like you do right now. I don’t want anyone else to see you like this. You’re too damn beautiful. You’re mine.”

▪️Lucas

Skinship and Lucas were synonyms when it came to your relationship. He loved getting to touch you at all times, whether it was a big, suffocating hug or just his large hands on the small of your back. You were barely awake when your boyfriend came back to your apartment, his busy schedule with SuperM keeping his side of the bed colder than you’d like. He didn’t even bother to wash up, just took his clothes off and covered himself up with your shared duvet and his chest facing your own. Satisfied with his mere presence, you scoot over, and lay one arm over his waist, bringing yourself closer. It was a shock to you when he turned to the other side, unwrapping your arm in the process and letting it fall in the space between you.

You decided not to address the incident that left a sting to your heart the next morning, spending the whole day with Lucas since it was rare for him to be free of any schedules. It was absolutely lovely, from the movie you watched to the homemade food you prepared for the both of you. Until the sun set again.

“Are you going back to your dorm now?”, you ask him while doing the dishes, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know, maybe you prefer sleeping in your own bed. Alone.”

Your back is facing him but you can sense the pout forming on his handsome features. You feel his body heat as he comes closer to you and wraps his arms around you, only for you to squirm away from his hold and pat your hands dry, leaving the sink.

“What’s wrong?”, Lucas asks quietly, his eyes doubling in size.

“It’s just that last night when I tried to cuddle you to sleep you avoided me… It’s okay if you don’t want to crash here you know-”

“Babe, babe”, he starts, taking your hands in his, “I was dirty and sweaty last night. I didn’t have the energy to shower and I felt gross. I would never reject a night with you”

“Really?”

“Really. Now how about we go to bed and I give you those cuddles that I owe you?”

▪️Xiaojun

It was rare to see Xiaojun be so frustrated with anything. He’d been sitting on that same spot of the bed for hours now, guitar propped up on his lap and a blank sheet of paper in front of him. You tried to relieve his stress anyway you could, massaging his shoulders, kissing his cheek every time he sighed. And while your boyfriend accepted them at first, soon you saw him bend away from your acts of affection, so much so that you were worried about whether you have angered him.

An icky feeling weighed you down when he kept ignoring you as time went by, realizing that today was not the day you’d get the quality time you craved from your boyfriend. Quiet so as not to bother him, you start to collect your things and pack them back into your bag, the sound of the zipper finally catching Xiaojun’s attention.

“Where are you going?”

“You seem busy. I’ll come by another day”

“No no no!”, he exclaims, swiftly pulling his guitar aside, “I was looking forward to seeing you”

“Well you don’t seem to want any love from me right now. We can reschedule our date night for another time”

You didn’t expect him to jump up on his feet so quickly, neither to pull you into a hug as tight. His words come out muffled from your hair that is covering his mouth as he kisses it.

“Don’t leave, please. I’m sorry I was ignoring you”

“No, I’m sorry if I overstepped your personal space”

You soothe out the wrinkles that have formed between his pretty eyebrows with your thumb, taking a moment to appreciate his warm smile before he brings you into a long kiss.

“I’m stuck on this song that I’m writing. Maybe I just need inspiration”

▪️Hendery

“Why are you looking in the mirror so much?”

In the span of the last hour you managed to feel insecure over your hair, your skin, your choice of clothing. You thought you were being subtle when checking out yourself, the reflection only making you wanna shrink even more with every quick glance.

“Do you still find me as attractive as you did when we first met? Like do you ever get butterflies on your stomach anymore?”

“Why are you asking me this all of a sudden?”

You sigh, rubbing your face in embarrassment. Being content in yourself was a challenge on its own, even more so when your boyfriend looked like that.

“When we first started dating we were all over each other. I wouldn’t even make it past your bedroom door before you kissed me everywhere. Ten called us disgusting all the time.”

“And?”

“And now it’s been an hour since I came here and you haven’t even touched me...”

Hendery sighs, and runs his fingers through his hair defeatedly. With a soft hand motion he encourages you to come lie next to him on his bed, cupping your face before leaving a kiss on your lips.

“When we first started dating I couldn’t believe you were mine. I had this urgency in me like I had to taste as much of you as I could. Like you would slip away from my fingers, but-”

“But?”

Hendery takes your hand in his, and starts a trail of shiver-inducing kisses from your wrist up to your shoulder, so slow that you thought he’d never finish his sentence.

“But I realized that it wasn’t fair to you. I want to love you like we have a lifetime ahead, not like our time is running out. I want to love you like you deserve, and I want to take my time”

▪️Yangyang

He was playing that damn video game again. Yangyang always looked so cute when he was concentrating so heavily, lips pursed in a pout and eyes following the different players on the screen. Desperate to feel the softness of his hoodie and comfort on his embrace you come closer to him, attempting to sit on his lap.

“He’s behind you! Shoot! Shoot!” You jump up from your seat along with him, wrapping your hands around his neck to keep your balance. “Babe not now! You made me miss the screen!”

Hurt by his sharp tone and volume of his voice you start to get up, hating the burning feeling of the fresh tears that begged to escape the corners of your eyes.

Yangyang’s grip on your elbow stops you before you leave his lap, a worried look painted on his face.

“What’s wrong? Are you crying?”

“You know sometimes you get so into your games that you yell at me over nothing…”

His pretty face falls into a frown, whole body rigid and focused on your sad expression.

“Baby, come here”

Throwing one leg over his lap, Yangyang turns you around in his hold so that you’re facing him. His fingers pet your hair until you close your eyes in bliss, your breath slowing down until it matches his.

“You’re right. I’m so, so sorry if I said something that hurt you. Will you please stay here? You’re my lucky charm. My beautiful, lucky charm that fits right into my lap”

You smile at his sweet words, letting your head rest against his neck and enjoying the little backrubs he gave you until he felt you were fully relaxed. You easily fell asleep in his arms, your sweet dreams interrupted only from the kisses he left on your temples.

[madametrashbin]

Wishful Dreaming

In which I pretend Part 3 of Inazuma’s story doesn’t exist and everyone is alive before shit goes down. Yes, people who read this, it’s time for best friend headcanons/drabbles/whatever the hell this is with Teppei. Honestly, it’s just no thoughts head empty right now and I might have gone off tangent a lot.

(And by a lot, I mean the majority of this piece, probably... by the way, credits to @streimiv and @myuni-moon for making my brain be hyper focused on Self Aware Cult Genshin... I can’t get it out of my head as of right now.)

Enjoy, even if it’s never going to be beta-read by anyone and I will never go back to edit this even if I find mistakes in this later on... and I also don’t know where my brain went for this, but what’s done is done. 

I’m not even sure if I did his personality correctly, ahaha...  (；^ω^)

(I’m going to project my denial in this, so please know it might be wince inducing and incredibly self-indulgent.)

The sun is bright at this time of day, the gentle breeze flowing through the tranquil lands of Inazuma, leaving those who are experiencing the nice morning in a blissful escape from its current reality. 

...much like a young foreigner who had left their current abode, leaving behind a note for their caretakers to see as they wander around the land of Eternity for some true fresh air and peace of mind away from the group that had more or less made their life a little too suffocating as of late.

It is also incredibly lonely in there, as they come to understand that no one (for the most part) look at them like they were a regular human... like they were them.

So they now wander, taking in the rarity of solitude that does not come as easily as one might think. Inazuma is beautiful, even if they know that the peace they see around these parts are but a veil that shields the horrible reality going on around them.

(They know what was happening outside the city, outside the teapot they were living in since they were brought here. They’ve experienced it happening before, many times in fact. They know what will happen, and they’re determined to change it. They just need to find a certain someone, and then they’re set.)

Meeting Teppei was something you didn’t really expect all that much, considering you knew he should be still a part of the logistic division of the Resistance Army and would be busy in their current base that was all the way to Yashiori Island.

Yet by sheer luck, or by fate, you meet the good fellow on Narukami Island and had managed to make a pretty good friendship with him over the course of coincidental meetings.

You’ve come to learn a few things about the young man, and it was that he was a pretty trusting guy, didn’t even think twice of being friends with you... which was a little worrisome, considering what happened in the actual storyline.

That’s okay though, you’ll make nothing happens to him... he is one of your only true friends in this world, after all.

“Teppei.”

They call to him as the Resistance Samurai turned his head away from the sight of the Tenshukaku to them.

“Is there anything you wish for? I mean, if you could have one wish granted, anything you want, what would it be?”

The young man looked rather confused at them, before they briefly clarified that they were just curious. As much as they enjoy the peacefulness of silence, they wanted to know what he really wanted... wondering if he really wanted a Vision, for the acknowledgement of the Gods.

“What would I wish for...”

The young man was quiet for a while, no doubt mulling it over before smiling when he comes to an answer, his head lifting to look at the glimmering stars.

“I would wish for the war to end... for the Sakoku Decree and Vision Hunt Decree to be abolished so people won’t have to suffer anymore.”

“Really? Not a Vision, or something like that?”

“Well, having a Vision would be nice, but thinking about it... I think it’s better if everyone is happy. A lot of people are suffering, and even if I did get a Vision, it’s still pretty difficult to win the war against the Shogunate.”

They could only hum quietly in understanding after that, not really certain what else to ask him before he gives them the same question. 

What do they wish for?

To go home. They would have said, but they chose not to because they knew there was probably little chance for them to be allowed to go home... Their “acolytes” are rather over-protective and notably possessive towards them, probably rampaging around Inazuma right now in search of them.

Well, they at least know what they’re going to do once they inevitably find them.

“Isn’t it time you should head back to your camp, Teppei?”

“Huh? Oh, right! It’s getting late! Then, if I have time, I’ll see you again!”

And he’s off in a rush, disappearing when he turned around the rocky walls and out of their sight. At the same time as he left, the bushes behind them rustle, and a frantic Zhongli appears with Venti following behind... both relaxed significantly once they saw them in perfect condition.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you, Your Grace. It’s dangerous for you to go outside on your own like that.”

“Please don’t worry us like that again.”

They immediately take to their sides, quickly ushering them to head back to the Teapot before they stopped them in their tracks. 

“Your Grace?”

“I need to do something. Will the both of you accompany me for this?”

...and by the following morning, an official announcement is made to all of Inazuma with the abolishment of both the Sakoku Decree and Vision Hunt Decree. 

Teppei is rushing over to them with a beaming smile on his face when they meet again that noon, the young man happily shares the good news with them while they simply smiled and nodded along with what he said even if they knew the reason behind it.

They don’t tell him anything, nor mention that it was thanks to him that it ended... well, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

Extra, because why not:

It becomes a frequent part of your days now that the War in Inazuma was over. Hanging out with Teppei as often as you could, granted you’d have a few people trailing in the shadows at all times, watching over you so you don’t pull the same stunt again.

You have to spend a bit of time giving warning glares behind you whenever Teppei mentions the cold chills that makes his bones shiver despite the relatively warm weather. 

When the two of you get roped up into a bit of trouble (whether by lingering Fatui grunts, stray Ronins or local Treasure Hoarders seeking to rob you), Teppei would always jump in between you and them, saying he’ll protect you as he holds his spear (that he brings with him out of habit).

...you thinks it’s endearing with how he’s trying to be brave, as you can see his hands shake just a tad bit due to the numbers.

But as much as you want to let him have his moment, you prefer that your friend doesn’t get himself hurt and therefore skillfully lead him away from the danger while the rest (your cult) dealt with them.

When you feel like the divine treatment is starting to get too overwhelming, and you’re feeling a little too lonely, you always make your way to Teppei who is there to provide comfort even if you never really talked about what’s troubling you.

Your friendship with Teppei is strong, even if you rarely talk about yourself to him and how he’s told you practically everything about himself.

There’s just something about that trust that bring you a lot of comfort... it gave a different feeling compared to Zhongli or Fischl’s kind of trust... it was warmer, and felt more like home.

You’re also very adamant in keeping him away from the whole cult business, not wanting him to think of you like how the others did... you don’t want to lose that friendship that practically kept you sane in this world.

The amount of times you have to keep reminding your cult to leave him be is absurd, and as much as they protest about him, the fact you’re upset at them for that is enough to get them to stop.

...for a while, at least. They go at it again for a while when Teppei does something they don’t like until you actually snapped at them. They stopped bothering him after that.

If Teppei does eventually find out about the cult, which will most likely happen because of Kokomi, you would be genuinely terrified in the beginning of it until he gives you proper reassurance that it doesn’t change anything.

Now he’s allowed to see you in the Teapot, often visiting with curious snacks he finds and occasionally sleeping over when you are feeling particularly lonely.

Overall, a very pleasant friendship to have. Being one of the few you can really be open with and not be concerned about how you’re viewed as.

Wholesome boy will always have your back whenever you need him... even if he is a little intimidated by the Raiden Shogun and the other intimidating acolytes that are a part of your cult.

[sunsetsnz]

can you pls write sick!seph

omg you don't understand i was only thinking abt this the other day!! here's something for u: [sick seph, caretaker jonathan, 1.6k words, sfw, little bit of mess]

-

Here's the thing about Seph Jones: he's vulnerable because he chooses to be. He chose to reveal his obscure kink to his boyfriend. He sits there and asks to be induced. If he sneezes in public, it's because he wants to let it out.

Being sick, though — he doesn't get a choice in that. Although Seph rarely falls ill, he really feels it when he does, and that gets hard to hide. It frustrates the hell out of him, he doesn't want anyone's pity. It makes him feel small and incapable, powerless to do absolutely anything.

Most of all: he doesn't want to be a burden on anyone. Especially not his boyfriend, Jonathan, who already takes on more than he should and does so much for everyone around him.

Consequently, when it does happen to him, he's really stubborn about accepting he's sick. Seph may be an athlete who champions listening to your body, but he'll still vehemently deny anyone who so much as suggests he's feeling under the weather, even though he's burning up inside and out. And today happens to be one of those days.

All day his skin has felt like it's on fire, yet he's so shivery and achey too, his head pounding. His nose is stuffy and leaking, though he tries to hide it, but he can't even hold back a sneeze anymore. And as for his voice? It's so obviously hoarse that anyone within earshot could hear how inflamed his poor throat is. Just talking hurts, so he's barely said a word all day.

When he finally pushes his body beyond its limits training outside in the cold, spitting rain, he ends up so dizzy and exhausted he has to plop down on the wet grass and just breathe for a while, holding his aching head in his hands and trying not to pass out.

Later that evening, he shows up at the door of Jonathan's trailer, arms hugging himself as he shivers miserably with the chill. The last few days have been busy and they've hardly seen each other, so they promised each other they'd have dinner and unwind together after he trained tonight. He's not breaking that promise.

A raindrop hits his unusually tickly nose, causing his presence to be announced with a pathetic sneeze before he even gets the chance to knock.

"Huh...HISSHHyuu!! Heh-ISSHH-yuhhh..."

A few moments later the door opens and Jonathan pokes his head out, visibly confused. "Hey. Was that you just now?"

"Hey," Seph feigns cluelessness, even though his eyes are watering. "Was what me?" He tries to make his voice sound normal but can't quite manage it.

Jonathan instantly clocks the croakiness. "You sound a little..." He frowns, then shakes his head. “Here, come in, you’re getting wet.” Seph mumbles in agreement and allows himself to be gently pulled inside by the elbow.

Inside, he's grateful to be out of the rain, but he has to focus on holding himself still so as not to keep shivering. Jonathan eyes him as he leans against the kitchenette counter.

"I made mac and cheese for us. Hope you don't mind. I figured you'd be in the mood for it after training?"

Normally he'd be ravenous, and Jon's mac and cheese is his favourite. But with how awful he feels right now, food is the last thing on his mind.

He forces a smile, nodding. "Yeah...sounds great."

Jonathan's gaze lingers on Seph as they both dish up the food, but he doesn't say anything. Once they've sat down Seph does his best to eat as much as he can, but his appetite is scarce. It's a struggle to keep any kind of distance from Jonathan since the table is so small, their legs entangling under it. Staring down at his plate, his gaze turns bleary as the steam rising from the hot food makes him even more congested.

"Seph?"

Seph weakly lifts his head, which is swimming. "Huh?"

"Did you um, hear me?"

"Uh..." He blinks slowly. His voice is thick when he speaks. "Yeah, I...sorry, what'd you say?"

Jonathan sets his fork down, furrowed eyebrows forming a little crease above the glasses that sit on his nose. Cute when he does that, Seph's feverish mind supplies.

"Alright, I can't take this anymore. You're not feeling well, are you?"

"What?" Seph shakes his head, braids flying. "No! ...I mean, yeah, I am. Feeling well."

His boyfriend rolls his eyes in fond exasperation and softly says, "You don't think I can tell when you're sick, dummy?"

"I'm fine."

Right after he says that he sneezes again, triggered by the steam.

Fed up, Jonathan leans over the tiny table towards him.

"Wait—" Seph tries to jerk away from his reach, but his reflexes aren't as quick as usual. Jonathan lays his hand on his forehead, and his eyes widen.

"Babe, you're burning up..."

"No, please...it's just...you've been cooking, it's hot in here..."

Jonathan's hand moves to his flushed cheek, stroking it with his thumb as he shakes his head, gaze full of concern. "Come on. We don't lie to each other, Seph."

That's what gets him to break, finally.

He lets out a crackly sigh of defeat, closing his eyes as he leans into his touch. "I know..."

Jonathan nods silently to tell him it's okay, keeps stroking his cheek for a few moments more.

"Sorry...I couldn't finish the food."

Jon smiles softly. "Hey, it's okay. I'm more worried about you right now." He gets up, circling around the table to help Seph stand. "C'mere..."

He resists for a moment, not meeting his boyfriend's eyes. "You don't need to take care of me," he murmurs thickly.

"Oh, sure, I'll just leave you to suffer," Jonathan scoffs as he gently pries Seph from his chair. "Maybe I'll even kick you back out into the rain, huh?"

"I mean it, Jonathan." Seph's voice is scratchy, but full of conviction. "You-you do too much for everyone already. I don't wanna add to that."

Now Jonathan turns serious, wrapping an arm around the small of his back as he leads him towards his bedroom. "Joseph, I want to." He places both hands on Seph's shoulders, firmly pressing him down onto the edge of the bed. "And you clearly need it." Placing a soft kiss on his forehead, he murmurs against it, "Now lie down."

For the first time, Seph manages a weak half-smirk as he looks up at him, rubbing at his nose. "So commanding."

Jonathan's mouth quirks up in response. "Don't you know it." He lightly pushes Seph down by the shoulder before backing out of the room momentarily.

Seph drags himself to the top of the bed and sighs into Jonathan's pillow, too tired to get under the covers.

After refrigerating their leftovers, Jonathan returns armed with a glass of water, painkillers, lozenges, tissues and a cold compress. Hearing him approach, Seph opens his eyes and suddenly chuckles deliriously at the sight of him somehow carrying all of that.

Jonathan looks up with a puzzled smile as he sets the water and various other items on his bedside table. "What's funny?"

"You." Seph lets out a little groan as he slowly sits back up.

Jon sits on the edge of the bed beside him. "Okay, well now I know you're really out of it," he jokes, handing him the glass of water and painkillers. Seph takes them gladly before lying down again. Taking off his glasses, Jonathan follows, curling his body around Seph's and holding the cold compress to his burning forehead.

Seph's eyes flutter closed on an exhale, much-needed relief hitting him at last. Jonathan just watches him, calm settling in his own chest now that he's able to take care of him properly. He's usually the one who needs taking care of, so it's really nice to be the one looking after Seph for once.

He wraps his free arm around him, pulling him in, and Seph snuggles into his chest, the tension mostly melting away from him.

Jonathan hums softly, rubbing his back as he holds him. "Feels better getting what you need, hm?" He whispers.

"Mmhm." Seph nods very slightly against his chest. This turns out to be a mistake because it stirs up his itchy nose again. "Tha—huh..ha.. ISSHyuh! Hah-ISSHHyuhh!! ...Hh-..HISSHHyuu!!" He muffles three overpowering sneezes into Jonathan's chest, shoulders shaking. "Aah.."

Jonathan holds him through each one, stroking the back of his neck. "Woah, three. Bless you a lot." He turns just enough to reach for a tissue, and Seph pulls back just enough to survey the mess he left on his chest with dread.

"Fuck, so sorry..." If it were the other way around he would've been pretty into it, but he can't help being grossed out by doing it to someone else. By accident. Even if it is Jonathan, someone he trusts deeply.

"Shh, it's okay." Jonathan wipes his T-shirt down with the retrieved tissue before pressing it to Seph's cherry-red nose, cleaning him up carefully so as not to irritate him further.

Seph blushes at the intimacy of the action, and then blows into the tissue which Jonathan is still holding for him. "Aughh...thanks...can't do anything without sneezing. Guess now I know how it feels for you all the time."

Jonathan discards the sodden tissue and chuckles. "Indeed."

Those sneezes took the last ounce of energy left in him. Officially unable to keep his eyes open any longer, Seph lays his head back on Jonathan's chest, worn out. Jonathan answers by curling around him once again, pressing his lips to the top of his head. They lie together, listening to the rain outside beating down on the roof of the trailer.

He thinks Seph's fallen asleep already, but after a minute or two comes a weak, whispered "...Thank you."

Jonathan's smile is tender when he responds, thinking of the night of caretaking ahead of him and simultaneously thinking there's nowhere he'd rather be. "You're welcome. Always."

[helliontherapscallion]

Stressful Spectres (Sweet Betrayal Part 3)

Part 1     Part 2     Part 4

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of abuse/neglect, mentions of death, slight body gore, blood

Word count: 2,873

With hands tightly clasped behind your back, you tensely paced around your office. The Pogtopians were constantly being sighted around the borders of Manberg and it was your job to prevent this. You tried everything; setting up traps, luring mobs around the vicinity, nothing worked. They just kept coming back like pesky cockroaches following pheromones. The only way you’d be able to prevent them from spying into the borders was to rebuild a wall, and Schlatt would turn your idea down the second the word ‘wall’ would leave your mouth. He gave you only two days to completely figure everything out from the last time one of the cowards was spotted running from the borders, and it seems that those two days are nearly up. 

“You should take a break, (y/n).” Without looking at him, you kept pacing and ignored him. “Stop ignoring me, you know I don’t like when you do that… Please, take a break. I’m worried about you,” he sounded just like he did from before. You felt your eye twitch. 

“...(Y/n), remember what I used to sing to you?” He chuckled, the sound being airy and far off, “‘hey hobo man, hey dapper Dan-’”

“Shut the fuck up!” You grabbed your vase and hurled it blindly in his direction. The glass shattered against the wall and you heard nothing else from the teenager. “I don’t need you anymore.” He had been visiting you for the past week or so, ever since Schlatt found out about you taking your birthday off. You were banned from speaking to the Badlanders and got a few physical punishments that would definitely give you more scars on your arms. It was your fault anyways, you were slacking off during a war when you were one of the leaders of this country.

Your door opened when you were mid pace, making you plaster a strained smile on your face and spin around to narrow your eyes at whomever decided to not knock. You were greeted by a slightly buzzed ram hybrid raising an eyebrow at you. He must’ve just started drinking. 

Whenever he was only slightly buzzed or on the very rare chance he was sober, he was the most affectionate with you. It wasn’t much, only small praises and the occasional smile, but by Ender you ate it up like you were a drug addict getting their first hit in months. You craved any type of affection, no matter where it came from or how rarely it came. You were willing to wait for it, even if it was rare. 

His amber gaze flicked around the room before it landed on the ceramic shards embedded into the carpet. He jutted his chin towards it, “fuck happen there?” 

You ran your hand down your face and massaged your aching cheeks, “nothing. Just thought I saw a rat, but my mind was just playing tricks on me.” His calculating gaze pierced through you like a spear before he narrowed his eyes slightly and nodded. He walked over to the window and looked out at the vast city, hands neatly clasped behind his back. “...Have you come up with a solution to our... problem?”

You sighed angrily and resumed your pacing, “I’ve tried everything. They just dismantle the traps I set up, kill the mobs I lure around it, they even killed the iron golems! The only option here is to put up the walls again.” 

“I know you didn’t just say what I thought you fuckin said,” Schlatt hissed out, “there’s no way in hell I’m putting up those walls again.”

“I don’t know what you want me to do then, that’s our only option,” you mumbled under your breath only to freeze when Schlatt stomped up to you. He spun you around and grabbed your shoulders, leaning close to your face. His breath smelled like tobacco and a hint of scotch, “are you questioning my authority?” You shook your head frantically. “Really? Cuz it sure sounds like you’re questioning my authority. You seem to forget that I’m your boss and you will treat me as such. Do you understand me?”

You nodded and he let you go, slightly shoving you off to the side as he walked past you. “I-I’m sorry, Dad.” He paused in your doorway, “don’t call me that. I don’t want to be the father of someone that constantly contradicts me. I’ll be back in an hour, you better have this shit figured out by the time I get back or I swear to Ender I’ll fire your sorry ass. You’re on thin ice, (y/n).” Without a second word he left your office, the sound of his dress shoes clanking against the tile fading down the hallway. 

You could feel your heart break inside of your chest and your lungs get deflated by the shards piercing them. He was the last person that actually loved you, and you fucked it up. You always fuck everything up, you supposed that it was an innate part of you. No matter what you did or what you tried, you’re always going to be a fuck up. 

No, you can’t just sit here and ponder all of your life’s mistakes; you need to be brainstorming before you lose your connection to the person you loved the most. You paced around your office endlessly murmuring to yourself. You knew he was watching you pace again standing off in the corner, the room felt off like it always did whenever he was there. You ignored him and continued your pacing. 

Just as you came up with a solution, your door was opened and Schlatt stepped into your office once more. He was swaying slightly on his feet and his suit jacket was unbuttoned. “You figure something out?” 

You put a confident smile on your face, “yes. I think we should send patrols around the border, and I think the Badlanders and Rutabagaville members would fare nicely. We can send them in groups of two and send them once in the morning, afternoon, evening, and night.” 

He nodded to himself, satisfied. “That sounds like a decent plan, you’re keeping your job for now. But don’t think I’ll forget about what you said earlier.”

You felt extremely relieved and grinned at him, “yessir. I apologize for that once again, it just-”

“Save it, you’re still on thin fucking ice… Don’t look at me like that, ya smiling freak. Your face is absolutely disgusting.” You dropped your smile and looked at your slightly scarred fingers. Light pink raised scars littered your skin in random amounts along your right arm, leading up your neck, and becoming the most concentrated on the entirety of the right side of your face. You avoided looking in the mirror, mostly out of anger because your appearance was a constant reminder of the stain your ‘brothers’ left on your life. You were still adjusting to having a blind spot in your vision, the eye having lost its sight and now a cloudy white color from the fireworks. Your eyelid on that side was permanently half-lidded, unable to open up fully even if you tried. 

You were fully aware that your appearance was… unsightly, to say the least, to everybody that looked at you (yourself included), but Schlatt was one that never cringed away from you. Hell, even Quackity (the mere mention of his name made icy betrayal wash over your entire body) avoided looking at you in the first few weeks of your injury. Schlatt was the one that loved you for who you were, scars and all, and you fucked it up. 

He squinted at you, his eyelids blocking everything with the exception of his rectangular pupils. A snort left his lips before he moved to leave you to your own devices. “I’ll inform the others of their new duties, get your paperwork done.” 

“Yessir.” 

You sat down at your desk chair with a sigh and rubbed at your aching cheeks before you picked up your pen and started on your paperwork. Well, it was yours with the exception of Schlatt’s thrown about occasionally in piles. The room was engulfed into an uncomfortable chill once more, he’s back. You honestly have no idea why he just keeps coming back to you or even if his pale spectre was just a stress induced hallucination. He just showed up in your office one day saying that he’s been looking everywhere for you. He acted and looked exactly like he did before he left, except his attitude was strangely chipper for someone that had an iron pickaxe buried deep within their forehead. 

“(Y/n), I’m back!” He sang, floating over to your desk. “Geez, that goat guy is a real jerk isn’t he?” His slightly glowing hand appeared in your vision and tried to pluck the pen out of your grasp. It swiped right through your hand, making you shiver at the uncomfortable feeling. “I’m still not used to that.”

You huffed and focused more on your paperwork. You could feel the chill getting closer, leading up to the point where he was directly behind you. The icy air gusted down your neck with every breath he exhaled. “Whatcha workin on?” He whispered in your ear. 

“Nothing that you need to worry about.” 

“So they speak! I was worried you went completely mute… Well, you did scream at me before, but I didn’t count that. That’s okay though, I knew I could get you to talk to me sooner or later. I’m irresistible, you remember how I was with the ladies.” 

“Fuck off.”

“No need to be so mean to me.” You focused on your paperwork again, furrowing your brows and trying to tune him out. “(Yyyyyyy/nnnnn), you can’t ignore little ole me forever.” 

“I can and I will.”

He gasped before laughter streamed from his lips, the sound being muffled since it was on your deaf side. “You just talked to me though! I think that’s a win for me. Do you remember when-”

“I swear to Ender, if another word comes out of your mouth I’ll make sure that the next pickaxe finds its home through your tongue and down your throat.” 

He was silent after that, leaving you to your paperwork. At least, that was until someone knocked on your office door. You sighed before plastering a smile on your face, “come in.” Your door opened to reveal the signature white smiley face mask, messy blond hair, and green hoodie.

Dream had been giving you small lessons on your swordsmanship lately, and you were getting better with each passing lesson. You were proficient on defense, so it was time for you to learn how to offensively attack. 

You saw that he placed an apple on your desk. You looked up at him in confusion. “What? You haven’t eaten anything all day, I don’t want you passing out or anything during our lesson.”

“Finally! Someone with actual sense around here! It’s so refreshing, isn’t it (y/n)? Well, it’s refreshing for me anyways.” 

Dream chuckled, “thank you.” 

Wait a damn minute.

Dream could hear him?!

Your pen froze mid sentence and rested on the paper, it’s ink pooling in one place. You slowly looked up at Dream, “you can hear him?” He looked at the teenager behind you before looking back at you, his head tilting. “Of course I can. He’s right there.” 

“Yeah (y/n), I’m right here. My name’s Lucius by the way, it’s nice to meet you!” He floated over to Dream and held out his hand, the pickaxe handle almost hitting the taller male in the chest. Dream stepped back slightly and nodded, “Dream. Eat that apple fast, we don’t have all day.” You snapped out of your stupor and grabbed the apple, taking absentminded bites while staring at your dead best friend talking animatedly to the masked man. 

So he was real after all. You were worried something might have actually been wrong with you for a moment! It was nice to know that you weren’t completely insane. 

“...meet (y/n)?” 

“Oh, I’m training them at the moment, would you like to watch?” 

“Yes! That sounds exciting, doesn’t it (y/n)?” The two looked at you expectantly, Dream’s head tilting slightly and Lucius smiling widely at you. You swallowed your bite and nodded, throwing the apple core into your trash bin. “...Yeah. Yeah it does. Uh, I’m going to get changed and then we can start our session.” 

After you got changed, you met with the two outside your door and walked out of the White House to the training grounds. The entire time you were walking, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Lucius. Every time he would turn his head, the pickaxe would move with it. The crusted blood that emanated from the wound and splattered down his pale face was perhaps the darkest color on him with the exception of his jet black hair. 

In a strange way, it wasn’t the blood or the pickaxe protruding from his head that disturbed you the most; it was his eyes. Of course they still crinkled at the edges when he smiled, but it just wasn’t the same. The black eyes that were once so full of life were a dull gray with milky pupils. 

Other than the obvious pickaxe, blood, dead eyes, and constant glowing, he looked exactly like he did before he died. His baggy sweater, albeit mudstained and wrinkled, was still a salmon color with its signature pinstripes. The mop of straight black hair was still pulled into a bun with multiple unruly strands escaping the elastic and framing his face.

Before you knew it, a pale hand was waving in your face. “Earth to (y/n)! Oh good, you’re back to the land of the living! What’s wrong? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost. Well, I mean you were just staring at me, but my point still stands.”

You moved your gaze to the dirt path, “it’s nothing, I’ll tell you later.” He huffed, but didn’t say anything else to you for the rest of the trip. Instead, he was making small comments on your surroundings. 

Eventually, you were across from Dream on the training arena holding a wooden sword in front of you defensively. Lucius was sitting in the grass a little ways away from the painted boundaries with one foot over the other and his elbows resting on his knees propping his chin up. He was watching with an intensity he always had whenever you were doing something he deemed ‘dangerous’. To be fair, sparring with the most skilled member on the server was fairly dangerous.

“Let’s see if you remember what I taught you last time.” Without giving you a warning, he charged at you with his own wooden sword raised. Your sword clashed with his and you pushed against him. The mask moved upwards on his face slightly, “good, but always expect the unexpected.” 

With a simple sweep of his foot, you were on the ground gasping for air. You could faintly hear Lucius suck in air between his teeth before he shouted “you’re doing great, sweetie, but do better!”

Thanks, Lucius. Very motivating.

You rolled away from Dream’s foot before he could pin you to the floor. Your mind flashed back to when Techno- no. None of that, you need to focus. You got back onto your feet in the blink of an eye and dodged another blow. You used his momentum against him, stepping away at the right moment sending him skidding to a stop. 

Before long, he had you on the floor again with the tip of the sword pressing into your chest. He relaxed before helping you up, “you did better than I thought you would, but there were still some obvious flaws in what you did. Using my momentum against me was smart, but with what you did the opponent would recover fast. Here, let me show you how to properly do that.” 

You improved on a few things defensively and learned a few things offensively before the sun started to set and cast shadows on the surrounding forest. Dream shook your hand, “nice work today, you’re gonna rival even the best eventually.”

“You were great, (y/n)! I didn’t know you had it in you!” I didn’t have it in me when you were alive, you mentally corrected him. “Thanks, Lucius.” You glanced at him only to be met with his body phasing through yours in an attempted hug. He fell to the ground and rolled over, crossing his arms over his chest, “I’ll never get used to that.” 

Dream snorted before he shoved his hands into his pockets and started to nonchalantly walk back towards the White House. You and Lucius looked at each other before you ran to catch up with him. Lucius floated next to you, examining the dirt on your exposed arms and the forming bruises on your calves. He wrinkled his nose, “you really need a shower.” 

“Well I can’t exactly strip now and find a shower in the woods, can I Lucius?” 

“You just reek.”

“Yeah, you kinda do.”

“Thanks Lucius, Dream. Really feeling the love.” 

General taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@crybabyjabby  @izzybobizzy13  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @bunnyz-pxstel  @averytiredfanfictionwriter  @dcml04  @sparkling-gayyyy  @bbigbbrainn  @thaticecreambish  @kiinokochii  @satansphatass  @bxkubitch  @bxmentchildxx  @roxy3457  @montygator17  @feverish-dove  @the-fictionwriters-hairdo  @jichuuchaeng  @404rynnotfound  @luluwinchester  @laura--444  @the-cult-classic-bitch  @youngstarfishdinosaur  @nottheotheruser  @ohworm-writes  @localwolfanon  @realitycanbeajerk  @v10dw4lk3r  @esylwen

GN reader taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@twitchchatvroom  @parkeepingparker

SBI taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@afifaj

Series taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@zefrenchturtle  @smolgreenybeany  @wouldyoulikesomepollen  @savleftus  @bonkaloid  @prickypearpropaganda  @marceline1212  @simp-of-newyork

[animeomegas]

Omega!Shouto Pregnancy Emotions

Anon: This is a request take it if you like haha-Okay how is Todoroki (Shoto) while being prego? Does he get super sexual? Insecure? Happy? Moody? Scared? What does he feel and how do you react to those feelings?

(Hmm, okay, here are some of the primary emotions for Shouto during pregnancy. I hope you enjoy~)

Warnings: None

Some of the main emotions that impact Shouto Todoroki during his pregnancy:

Pained:

Because of Endeavour’s less than stellar parenting style and discriminatory beliefs towards omegas, Shouto’s reproductive system isn’t especially healthy. For that reason, some parts of pregnancy are more painful for Shouto than they would be for most other omegas.

One of the impacts is that the doctors recommend a c-section delivery. Male omegas have a higher risk of needing a c-section than female omegas in general, but Shouto’s hips and pelvis are not very flexible, so he’s at an even higher risk. His hips are not used to shifting, something that he should have experienced gradually starting from teenagerhood but did not because of the super strong suppressants he was on.

So, while he’s pregnant, the following things cause him a lot of pain:

Stomach aches – his stomach is flush against his uterus which is not behaving normally and giving him some problems. It upsets his stomach and it’s something that lasts for his entire pregnancy.

Lower back aches – his hips do try to widen in anticipation of delivering a baby, but it doesn’t work very well for him and is quite painful.

His chest – the doctors are originally unsure as to whether Shouto is going to be able to breast feed. They give him some extra hormones to stimulate milk production in the hopes that it will help. It does help actually, and Shouto is able to breast feed, but the hormones make his chest very swollen for most of his pregnancy. This is common in late pregnancy of course, but for Shouto it’s a little earlier than that and a little more jarring.

You felt helpless as you watched your mate curl up on the couch in pain, knowing there wasn’t anything you could do to fix it. He’d been having stomach and back pains all day and had to come home from work because they had been so bad. You’d also come home from work to pick him up and take care of him. You sighed to yourself as you looked down at him. He was only three months along, but it was looking like he might have to stop working sooner rather than later. Shouto would be miserable if he was forced to make that decision, but there was nothing either of you could do about it.

Shouto’s huff of frustration pulled you out of your thoughts. He was fidgeting with the heating pad that was wrapped around the right side of his tummy. He had been having some trouble balancing his temperature since he got pregnant and he couldn’t warm his stomach by himself. Losing quirk control wasn’t uncommon during pregnancy but having to use a heating pad did make Shouto embarrassed at first.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, kneeling down onto the floor beside him.

“Fine,” came Shouto’s muffled voice from where he had his face buried in a cushion.

“You don’t look fine,” you teased gently, linking you fingers with that hand that Shouto was using to fiddle with the heating pad. “Is something wrong with the heating pad?”

“No,” he huffed. “It’s just too small.”

Without missing a moment, you replied with, 

“That’s what she said.”

“Who said what?” Shouto questioned, eyebrows furrowed.

You snorted at the joke going over his head. He was never good at understanding innuendo humour. 

“It doesn’t matter, my love. But the heating pad is too small? Is your back hurting too?”

Shouto nodded, nuzzling into the cushion and messing up his hair as he did it. You smoothed his hair back down with a hand.

“I know it only needs to go on my right side, but I still can’t get it to sit right.”

You hummed in understanding.

“You want me to go and get a second one from the shop? Or a hot water bottle or something? Unfortunately, I’m not sure we have anything else in the house.”

Shouto hesitated, seeming unsure.

“I really don’t mind going, this is my fault after all,” you joked, placing a hand on his small bump.

“You’re warm,” Shouto muttered.

“I’m warm?”

Shouto blushed and didn’t respond. A teasing grin settled onto your face.

“Do you want me to lay behind you?”

Shouto nodded vigorously but didn’t make eye contact.

You agreed, quickly gathering some water and snacks to put within arm’s reach, before you awkwardly climbed behind Shouto and pulled him flush against your chest to spoon him. You started to rub his stomach to settle him.

Shouto relaxed under your attention and closed his eyes.

“Try to get some sleep, Shouto.”

 Embarrassed:

Shouto doesn’t really suffer from insecurity, but he does get quite embarrassed sometimes at the new way his body is now working.

One very embarrassing thing that I’ve already mentioned is that his control over his powers weakens for the duration for his pregnancy.

During late pregnancy, hiccups involve accidentally setting objects in the house on fire. Shouto can put them out very quickly, but he still finds the fact that his iron clad control has degraded to be very embarrassing.

Another embarrassing thing for Shouto is the limitations on his independence.

Eventually, Shouto can’t put his own shoes on, or clean himself properly and he has to rely on his Alpha for all of it.

(Well, at first, his chosen strategy is just to keep trying by himself until he basically gives his alpha an aneurysm when he almost hurts himself by accident.)

Shouto gets moody and embarrassed when he has to ask for help for small things.

But by far the thing that embarrasses him the most, is his weak pregnancy bladder.

Sneezing becomes a dangerous game for him between the bladder and the spontaneous fire or ice usage.

At one point, Shouto refuses to have sex with his alpha for a couple of weeks because he’s too nervous that he’ll…er… well, lose control.

To deal with all the embarrassment, Shouto’s alpha needs to just downplay any incidents as much as possible, even going so far as to pretend not to notice certain things. This would go a long way in reducing Shouto’s anxiety and embarrassment. Also, indulging him when he says he wants to stay at home because he’s embarrassed will help him a lot.

To summarise, pregnancy weakens the control he has over himself in many ways, and Shouto becomes very embarrassed when he’s reminded of that.

Unfortunately for Shouto, pregnancy being horribly embarrassing is a fact of life.

Clingy:

It is very common for pregnant omegas to feel a lot more possessive and clingier with their alphas.

Hormones are all over the place, and omegas are technically at their most vulnerable (barring heats) so it is a very normal instinct to want to be around the person who their instincts consider as the safest and most able to protect them and their unborn pup.

Shouto is no exception. He pouts when you have to leave the house. He is not impressed at all if you come home with the scent of another omega clinging to your clothes, even if he knows the scent. He calls you about fifteen times on the days when you’re at work, mainly to ask when you’ll be back (even though he already knows), tell you innocuous things about his day, or ask you to pick something up from the shops on your way home.

Shouto is big on cuddling as well, and whenever you’re both in the house, he demands cuddles all the time. He’s a very minimalist nester and so he normally just throws on one of your hoodies and drags a pillow and a blanket onto the couch, before dragging you to lay with him.

(Shouto goes through so many films whilst he’s pregnant because he rarely gets off of the sofa and he likes to have a film playing while he lounges.)

Basically, everything feels better when his alpha is with him. All his alpha needs to do is make sure they’re with him as much as possible, especially in his third trimester, when he’s the most anxious and clingy. (Avoiding getting too close to other omegas is also probably a good idea. Pregnant omegas, including Shouto, can get very worked up about that.)

Your lunch break had just started, and like every other day for the past month, the second your lunch break started, your phone would ring. You picked up your phone in anticipation. Any second now…

Bzzzt. Bzzzt.

You smiled automatically as Shouto’s name popped up. You quickly swiped to answer and held it up to your ear.

“Hey, Sho, how’s your day going?”

“Good,” he answered, and you could distantly hear the shuffling of blankets as he rearranged himself on the sofa. “I finished the film Midoriya recommended today.”

“Oh, and how was it?”

“It was good but, I also finished the crisps you bought for me yesterday while I was watching it. Could you bring some more home tonight?”

“Uh huh, of course, baby,” you said, picking up a pen to jot ‘crisps for Sho’ at the top of your to-do list.

There was silence for a few moments as you listened to Shouto continue to shuffle around.

“When are you going to be back?”

“You know when,” you laughed gently. “Asking me isn’t going to make time go faster.”

Shouto whined into the phone, and you immediately sat up straighter. That wasn’t his normal reaction.

“Shouto? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I…” you could hear a small sniffle through the phone.

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong, sweetheart? Do you want me to come home?”

“I… I’m sorry, you don’t have to come home, it’s okay.”

“Shouto, you’re freaking me out, tell me what’s going on?” you tried to keep your voice steady to soothe him, despite your own worries bubbling at the surface. 

“No, it’s just that,” a small sob escaped him. “Your hoodie doesn’t smell like you anymore.”

You blinked for a moment before sagging in your chair in relief. It was pregnancy hormone induced crying, not emergency crying.

“It’s okay, Sho,” you cooed. “I’ll be home soon, and I’ll scent it as much as you want, I promise.”

“Hmm, okay…” he sniffed. “But come home quick, please.”

“I will, if we hang up now, I can work through my lunch break and head home early, sound good? Maybe you should watch another film and the time will go more quickly?”

“Okay… Goodbye…”

“Goodbye sweetheart, I love you and I’ll see you soon.”

[astaroth1357]

Demon Brothers React to MC Getting Kidnapped by Lesser Demons.

Watch out for minor first half spoilers!!

Lucifer

Kicking himself because he has to find out through Mammon that the MC is missing and he didn’t notice their absence himself.

The second the alarm gets raised he gets into a state somewhere between coldly rational and extraordinarily furious. 

Definitely still level-headed enough to rally and organize his brothers for a search party but there's nothing but seething rage just rolling off of him the entire time. Probably-could-have-made-another-Satan type rage.

How well he keeps his composure will be based entirely on how long the MC is MIA. The first hour or so will be mostly put together but past that he'll start to slowly unravel as the panic takes hold.

At one point he even gets snippy with Diavolo over the phone and that's when you KNOW that he's reaching meltdown mode.

If he's the first to find the MC, his #1 priority is to get them away from whatever scum grabbed them and take them to the closest safe place he can find. He'd scoop them up so fast they won't even know where he came from, just whoosh! How'd I get on this roof??

Only once they're out of harm’s way will he circle back and deal with their kidnappers personally. You better be sure any damage done to his human will be reflected a thousandfold back onto their attackers. Probably coming back to the MC with some blood on him and is not going to care.

Relieved to have the MC back but restricts them from going out alone after a certain time now for their own good. If they need something that badly, they can come to him.

Also strings Mammon up by his toes that night for losing them in the first place.

"By the time Cerberus gets to you, I'll be sure you're only my table scraps…"

Mammon

The first to notice that the MC was being oddly quiet (thank their father for his text spamming habit) then found their stuff scattered and abandoned at RAD.

Told Lucifer right away and, oh boy, he is a mess: talking a mile a minute, punctuating his sentences with expletives, on the verge of tears, whole nine yards.

He left his human alone for what?? Like five minutes, if even, to go to the library and get themselves kidnapped?! What kind of guardian is he?!?

Already searching the place top-to-bottom without being told where to go or what to do.

He actually ends up a strange inverse of Lucifer. While Lucifer will start panicking more over time, Mammon will start panicking less as his fear escalates to all out anger. Give it a few hours and he’s not even going to be able to keep his demon form under control anymore.

You know this boy is legging it across the entire Devildom himself waving around some kind of hand-drawn "Have You Seen This Human?" flyer looking for any leads at all.

If he were to find the MC first, his first action would probably be to plant his foot right in the face of whoever took them. Hard. Then repeat until their skull’s a caved-in mess on floor. No mercy this time, just pure protective rage.

Following the fight, you'd think he was just reunited with his lost puppy. Lots of crying, hugging, and blubbering out apologies even when the rest of his brothers show up.

Would pretty much be glued to the MC's hip for at least a week afterward and makes more of a point to hang off of them in public now. They're his human after all, can't have anyone else getting the idea of pulling a stunt like that again.

"MC!! What'd ya go runnin' off for?? We're goin' home after I take out this trash, got it!!"

Leviathan 

Wouldn't really want to believe it at first because it just feels too unreal, like, the same thing happened to Henry in Episode 86 of TSL when he was kidnapped by enemies of the Lord of Fools and it was up to his true friend to track him down…

Suddenly remembers that Henry was also tortured while he was taken and that really sets in the panic.

Unsure of how to help at first because he knows he's just a useless shut-in but Belphie of all people is the one to remind him that he does have one big advantage over his brothers: a fucking navy.

In an act of surprising backbone, he more or less demands a full fleet of ships from Diavolo and (honestly to his shock) he gets exactly that to comb the Devil’s Sea while looking for MC. Lotan even helps out!

If he were to be the first to find the MC (presuming they are indeed on a boat or something cause 🤷‍♀️) those kidnappers really shouldn't have challenged the third strongest brother in his natural element, eh? Those who aren't automatically lashed in the face or flung overboard by his tail get hung by the leg over the edge of the ship for Lotan to pick off one by one.

Sails back to shore with MC booming with pride that he of all people finally got to be their hero! Will literally be so happy if MC ever brings it up again, doesn't matter how much time has passed.

Things would settle back to normal pretty quickly after that, but he now checks up on the MC a lot more often and will even leave his room for them if they need to go somewhere and don't want to go alone. Can't have this turning into a rerun, you know?

"You hurt my only friend… So drown."

Satan

One guess how the Avatar of Wrath took the news. It's not swimmingly.

Unless your definition of "swimmingly" is a murderous rampage of toppling furniture, breaking windows, and swearing to curse right about anything that moves, in which case aptly put. 

He gets stuck in an anger-induced tantrum for a bit before finally getting snapped back into coherent thought by Belphie and putting those mystery novels of his to good use. Smart boi takes second to Lucifer himself in the search, suggesting good locations for his brothers scout based on what clues they have to go on.

Of course, he's not content to just to call orders from the sidelines and is out searching himself like he's on the goddamn warpath. Doors? Who needs doors? If anything the hole I made in your wall is more efficient.

Should he be the first to find the MC he would coolly and methodically subdue any kidnapper he can get his hands on, release his human, and bring them home as soon as possible. They've been through quite enough today and don't need to see anything he's got planned for the bastards later.

But the second that Diavolo puts them in the castle dungeon, you best bet that Henry 1.0 is going to the LEAST of their worries. Who's ever wanted to play a life or death game of hide and seek with a giant snake and the incarnation of Wrath itself? First one caught gets the "quick" death! Any volunteers?

Might give the MC a mild scolding for going out when they shouldn't have but otherwise is just happy to see them back and safe. May act extra soft towards them for a couple days, just until the nerves of the situation finally wear off.

"Don't mistake this for mercy. I assure you, I don't know the meaning of the word."

Asmodeus

Highkey freaking out, like, almost as hysterical as Mammon when he hears the news. 

Being the Avatar of Lust, he of course knows there's a whole lot of creeps out there in the world and he is utterly terrified that his poor MC has fallen victim to one at that moment.

For once, all thoughts of himself and his looks are out the window. What? It's past 2am and MC is still gone? I can stay up another hour! Dry shampoo and a washcloth counts as a shower, right? Who the fuck cares, where's MC?? Somebody find them already!!

Pools his contact list with Satan's and starts reaching out across the whole Devildom asking for people to be on the lookout and offer tips. Also begs Solomon to use his magic to help in the search (which he's more than happy to do anyway because he cares about the MC too)

If he were to find MC first it'd be one of those rare cases where he'd be seen really truly enraged. No cute banter, no playful flirting, just telling those worthless scum-vats exactly where they belong and exactly how he's going to put them there. Is it any surprise that he's also madsick with a whip?

Crazy relieved that MC is free, but now it's on them to help him clean up and get back to his prettiest self. I mean, he worried himself half to death while they were gone! All this dirt and sweat going to take three, no four, bathes to fully clean off!! Best hop to it~♡

"Touch them one more time and I'm going to set fire to whatever landfill trash like you crawls out of!!"

Beelzebub

It can't be happening. It honestly can't be happening. First he loses Lilith and now MC?? He can't lose two. He. Can't. Lose. Two.

Pretty much the mantra going through his head as he tears the Devildom apart with his bare hands. 

It's 1000x worse than how he gets when he's hungry because at least then he might stop when he finally gets fed. Now it's either find MC or wait until he collapses from exhaustion and hope he doesn’t leave the whole realm a smoldering crater before he gets that far.

There's no reasoning with him either, the best the brothers can do is steer him in a direction and let him loose.

If he found MC first he probably wouldn't even realize it for a bit, he'd just keep attacking whatever or whoever is in front of him on his path of blind destruction. It'd take the MC literally flinging themselves at him or throwing their arms around him to snap him out of it but then it's back to sweetheart Beel.

Hugs ensue. Really tight hugs. Probably a few tears and apologies too (even if it’s not really his fault at all). 

Woe to anyone who tries going for the MC once he’s sure he has them because they WILL be broken then eaten. He’ll encourage his human not to look, but some things just have to be done.

Would absolutely carry MC back home and refuse to put them down until the others force him to. The floor may as well be lava planning on taking them away from him too.

Wouldn't care as much about personal vengeance as his brothers as long as MC is safe. He'll trust that his family will more than punish the kidnappers (though chances are he already took a chunk or two out of a few of them during his rampage anyway).

Protective instincts up by 100 after this, though Belphie usually steps in and eases him back a bit when he's about to get suffocating. MC never travels without a buddy now, ever. He just can't risk it.

"MC, I-I'm sorry… I just couldn’t lose you too…"

Belphegor

Keeps the coolest head of all the brothers on the outside, but there's a cold fury building up in those eyes.

Pretty much takes charge of whipping everyone back into gear with a combination stinging remarks and heavy duty guilt tripping. May not be the nicest method, but it's effective. 

"Asmo, grow a freaking spine and do something useful for a change! Mammon, this your fault to start with so you ought to be breaking your ass to find them! Satan, watching you is getting embarrassing, pull yourself together and think like you're good at it!"

His harshest criticisms get saved for Lucifer (big shock) but he only dishes them out when he sees his older brother really losing his grip or teetering on losing hope. If the “mighty firstborn” can’t keep it together then why should they even listen to him in the first place?

When he's not administering "motivation," he's keeping tabs on Beel's progression through the Devildom and trying to minimize the damage there. He's the only one that can get through to him long enough to change his course if necessary.

If he were to find the MC first, well, unlike Satan he doesn't have the forethought to save the torture for later. It's happening right here, right now, and you better bet that being the last born doesn't stop him from being a force to be reckoned with.

Waits with the MC for his brothers to catch up to them and deal with any stragglers. May cuddle with them and look like he's trying to take a nap in the meantime, but in truth he's still very alert, on edge, and ready to absolutely wreck shit if anything gets too close to them.

Though it doesn't look like his lazy ass goes through the same protective streak as his brothers, he's a lot quicker to try and convince the MC to stay home now. No out and about=less chance of getting nabbed. Plus he keeps his favorite pillow, win-win. 😏

"What about your worthless lives makes you think you deserve my mercy??"