#it feels better biting down…(angel dust ic) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tinyyoungblood · 4 years ago

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hi!! do you know that tiktok trend where the girl asks her bf if he can temporarily break up with her so she can be heartbroken when she listens to olivia rodrigo’s new album and the bf always says no? could you do that but with peter and avenger!reader? i don’t really know how the avengers play into that but i trust you to think of something great. love your work babes <3

pairing: peter parker x avenger!reader

word count: 2.7k

a/n: hey fren, tysm <3 i do know that trend, and it always warms my darn heart. you probably meant for this to be a headcanon but halfway through i realised that i was writing full sentences, so i just rolled with it bc i have no self-control lol enjoy x

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Peter, I need you to break up with me.”

Not a moment later, you heard a series of loud crashes and Peter stumbled out of the bathroom, hopping on one leg while fiddling with his zipper. “What did you just say?” His eyes were wild as they scanned your face.

“I need you to break up with me,” you repeated calmly, not taking your eyes off your laptop.

“Break up with you?” Peter echoed, hand raking through his hair in bewilderment. “Why would I do that? Do you want to break up?”

This made you look up. Peter was staring at you like you had just insulted his face, making it quite an effort to stay serious. “It’s just for 34 minutes and 46 seconds,” you assured. “So I can listen to Olivia Rodrigo’s new album.”

He blinked at you.

“What?”

“Please?” You set your laptop aside, shuffling to the end of the bed so you were sitting right in front of him. “I want to listen to it in full effect with a broken heart and everything.”

“I…” Peter slowly shook his head. A helpless laugh escaped him. “Um, no. Thank you.” He turned and made to return to the bathroom.

“Peter,” you whined and grabbed for his hand, pulling him to a halt.

“Sorry, angel.” He shrugged, supressing the faint tug at the corner of his mouth.

“Pleeeeaase.”

“Nope.”

You pouted. “We can break up when you train with Bucky! In that way you won’t even notice because you’ll be busy and distracted. I won’t even be on your mind.” You weren’t sure what you had said that made Peter stare at you like you were insane, but it took him a second to snap out of it.

He cupped your face with his hands and made sure to meet your eyes. “Babe, I think about you all the time.” He said it like it was a wish he wanted to word correctly. Slow and precise. Then he switched to a lighter tone that implied that he was done with the conversation. “I’m not breaking up with you.” With that he turned and left for the bathroom.

“Fine,” you called back although the water was already running and you doubted that Peter could hear you. And if he did, he probably didn’t care. You took that as your cue to leave. Defeated, you plucked your headphones into your phone and picked out a song of Olivia’s album at random.

Steve was lounging on the couch of the common room when you entered. He looked up from his magazine and gave you a small smile by way of greeting. You returned it by tapping two fingers at your temple in salute, ignoring the way how his stare lingered a little longer. You sat down next to him. When you locked eyes again, you saw the silent question on his face and let out a laugh. It ended up sounding more like a delightful scoff.

“I know Tony takes pride in being the philanthropist amongst us, but for someone who grew up in the ice age, you’re really good at reading people’s faces.” You wanted to annoy Steve, maybe even coax out a laugh, but he just kept looking at you, and you held his gaze. You were good at it—an aftereffect of living with Bucky who happened to love the same yoghurt as you did. Sometimes you put all western movies to shame with the way you narrowed your eyes at each other early in the morning in front of the fridge.

To your luck, Steve was just as stubborn, which meant that you two could’ve kept it going until death if it weren’t for the door banging open.

“I can’t believe you did this to me!” A voice boomed. You took a wild guess and assumed it was Clint.

“Tell me about it!” Another voice bellowed right back.

A second later, Sam and Clint marched into the room, furious, whereas Bucky strolled in behind them with no care in the world.

The former two were holding bags of food. Both were animated and waving their arms through the air while arguing. You turned down the volume of your phone in time to hear Steve demand, “What’s going on?”

Clint and Sam stared daggers at Bucky until Steve amended, “Buck, what did you do?”

The man in question turned around, facing his best friend in exasperation. “I asked these two to get food for me.” This earned him a snarl. Bucky waved them off and examined his metal arm, unconcerned. “Honestly, I have no idea why they’re getting so worked up about it.”

“We—” Sam gestured wildly between Clint and himself. “—were asked to pick up food for him from two different places. And neither of us knew about it!”

“Yes, neither of us knew,” Clint chimed in, eyes narrowing at Bucky who was busy flicking dust off his arm. “And I don’t know about you, Sam, but I was touched. I was moved, okay? Because Bucky never asks for anything and here I was, thinking we’re starting to bond or whatever but now I just feel USED.”

Sam gave a harsh sound in agreement.

“Bucky,” said Steve after no one had anything to add. “What do you have to say to that?”

Your gaze flitted between them, not sure what to expect. Bucky didn’t give any sign of wanting to respond, making you wonder if he had heard Cap at all. But then a slow smile swept over his lips and you noted that it was probably the most feline smile you’d ever seen. It was a smile storybook villains wore after burning down the world.

“The only thing I have to say is that I regret not having the moment they ran into each other in the elevator on video tape, because that—” He turned and looked Sam and Clint straight in the eye. “—was amazing.”

No one spoke.

“Ruthless,” you said under your breath and just like marionettes, the four men glanced you before another argument broke.

You took the chance to turn the volume back up. “happier” was playing and you settled further into the couch to watch the scene unfold. Sam was arguing so passionately that the vein on his neck was making an impressive appearance. Clint, on the other hand, had a palm pressed flat to his chest; his face showing pure betrayal. Bucky didn’t seem to care for the chaos. He tried multiple times to grab for the bags only for one of them to move out of his reach. When you glanced at Steve, you nearly lost it.

He was staring at them like his lifespan had just been reduced to ten years. He looked like he wanted to throw pebbles after them.

Nudging him with your arm, you silently handed him one of your earphones. He glanced at you and hesitated, probably thinking of the many times you had offered him a taste of blaring electronic music. You rolled your eyes and insisted again. This time, Steve took it and you watched in amusement as his brows rose in surprise.

“I like the piano,” he mouthed and glimpsed at the name of the song. You grinned.

In the meantime, Clint and Sam had decided to form an alliance. They had planted themselves in the opposite couch, digging into the contents of the brown bags while Bucky gawked at them from the other side of the room with his mouth ajar and heart ripped out of his chest. Shaking his head in disbelief, he let himself fall into the armchair facing them. He looked devastated. You weren’t sure if you had to stifle a laugh or tears.

Next to you, Steve chocked back a laugh. You quirked an eyebrow and considered him only to realise the reason behind his glee. Bucky was brooding in his seat while Sam and Clint did an excellence job on commenting every bite. Nothing has ever received as much praise as that pasta, and you were certain that if this were a cartoon, there would be rain clouds hovering above Bucky’s head. As if the angels had set it up themselves, you took notice of the lyrics.

I hope you're happy, but not like how you were with me

I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go

So find someone great but don't find no one better

Bucky was pouting, poking the leather of his armchair with his finger while stealing glances at Sam and Clint. It was perfect. Steve slapped a hand on his chest and he tipped his head back, laughing.

I hope you're happy, I wish you all the best, really

Say you love her, baby, just not like you loved me

And think of me fondly when your hands are on her

I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

You were both laughing hysterically. The others had stopped their on-going war to stare at the two of you; their expressions baffled. The song came to an end and Steve gave back your earphone, rubbing his eye as if wiping away a tear. He rose and walked over to Bucky, hurling him to his feet and putting an arm around his shoulders.

“Oh, Buck,” Steve said with a note of laughter in his voice. “There’s a song I need to show you.” You smiled as you watched them leave.

“Well, this was fun.” You pushed yourself off the couch and shook your head as Sam offered you some of his sushi. “Thanks, but I’m on a mission to get heartbroken.”

Leaving the men to their food, you wandered the halls and listened to “traitor” as you walked past Wanda’s room. Her door was open and you could see that Vision was in the middle of a chess game with Bruce and Wanda. By the looks of it, Vision was as good as winning and you reined the urge to cheer for him. You peaked around the door frame and saw that Vision had their king in check. Deep betrayal crossed Wanda’s face.

You chuckled quietly and whispered, “FRIDAY, play what I’m listening to right now through the speakers in Wanda’s room.” FRIDAY didn’t bother to respond but not a second later, the lyrics were blasting through her room and their heads snapped up in confusion.

Don't you dare forget about the way

You betrayed me

'Cause I know that you'll never feel sorry

For the way I hurt, yeah

“Wanda?“ You heard Vision’s careful voice. “What is going on?”

Guess you didn't cheat

But you're still

You're still a traitor

“I’m not sure, but these lyrics aren’t wrong…You are a traitor.” Wanda narrowed her eyes at him, slowly bobbing her head to the music. Treason danced in her eyes. It was the beginning of a villain origin story.

“Maybe it’s a sign of God,” Bruce said and you almost burst out laughing.

God, I wish that you had thought this through

Before I went and fell in love with you

“Hell yeah!” Wanda yelled and this time you bolted down the hallway, wheezing. You dashed right into Tony’s lab and slammed the door.

“What are you on?” He looked up in amusement. You simply shook your head, laughter still bubbling over your lips.

“Just spreading love in this facility.” You waved your hand at nothing in particular and Tony nodded.

“Right, I heard you asked Peter to break up with you to listen to that one album? Very dramatic. I like it.”

“See.” You gestured at him, indicating that he was the only one who got it. “It’s a good album. Maybe you should ask Pepper to divorce you.”

Tony gave a humourless laugh. “Yeah, I don’t think she would come back if I asked her.”

“Yikes,” you mumbled and this time Tony’s laughed for real.

“So what? You’ve just been walking around waiting for heartbreak?” He turned back to whatever he was working on. You stepped closer to get a peek.

“Precisely.”

“Sounds tiring.”

“I’m powered by exhaustion” You handed him the wrench he needed. “Want a listen? I think there’s a song you might like.”

He contemplated the offer and lifted his shoulder in a half-shrug. “Sure, why not.” You couldn’t help but squeal. You knew that Tony probably didn’t care but sharing your music was always exciting.

Beaming, you removed your headphones and connected your phone to the speakers of Tony’s lab. The first tunes of “good 4 u” started playing and Tony tapped his foot to the beat, head bobbing just slightly. When the chorus hit, he stood up and you stepped back, thinking he wanted to headbang. Instead, he reached for a tool that was further away. You didn’t miss the way he moved his shoulders in a little dance move though.

“I like this one,” he said, and you flashed him a smile. You continued working on the suit, handing Tony things you knew he needed until you passed him a plier and he froze. You furrowed your brows, glanced at the tool you knew was the right one, and cocked your head in silent question.

Maybe I'm too emotional

Or maybe you never cared at all

Looking you straight in the eyes, he flung the plier over his shoulder, opened a drawer, and took out another plier to use on his suit. You gasped.

“How dare you,” you whispered in shock. Tony had the nerve to shrug.

“Enjoy your little heartbreak moment, Y/N.” He shooed you away like a cat. “FRIDAY, yank up the volume, would you.”

Well, good for you, you look happy and healthy

Not me, if you ever cared to ask

Good for you, you're doin' great out there without me

“Guys?” Peter’s voice was drowned out by the booming music. He was leaning against the doorframe, watching in amusement as you and Tony towered on the lab tables, using screwdrivers as provisional microphones. While Tony played a terrific air guitar, you sank dramatically to your knees and impressed the crowd with your air drumming skills.

“Guys?” Peter tried again, chuckling. This time you and Tony whipped around at the same time and pointed straight at Peter.

Like a damn sociopath

You threw your arms up in the air and spun in circles while Tony jumped into quite an impressive split leap.

I've lost my mind

I've spent the night cryin' on the floor in my bathroom

Just over the fact that I really don't get it

But I guess good for you

The song came to an end, and you leapt on Tony’s table to share a screwdriver with him as you sang the last lyrics together.

Well, good for you, I guess you moved on really easily

The song ended and all you could hear was heavy breathing. Peter began to clap. “This was great, you guys. Wow.”

You exchanged glances with Tony before making a show of bowing at the waist.

“So this is what happens when I refuse to break up with you?” Peter strolled over to where you sat on the lab table, positioning himself between your legs. Tony chuckled and jumped off to grab a water bottle from across the room.

“I’m gonna need you to elaborate on that,” you said, just for the devil of it.

Peter smiled. “Cap and Bucky are crying over a song, Vision is sending Wanda flowers in ten-minute intervals, and you are down here having a rock concert with Tony.”

You gave him a toothy grin. “I was just feeling sour.”

* * *

stay hydrated pals

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dark-ambition · 1 year ago

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@mcnagerie

“Hmmm…Lemme think about that for a sec…No.” A playful wink on Angel’s end as he sticks out his tongue toward Alastor.

#it feels better biting down…(angel dust ic)#mcnagerie

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leggerefiore · 2 years ago

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Do you have any spare snorunt Erin content my liege? I am but a simple beggar looking for even a crumb of that baby snow angel

dnwkwfe erin is getting specific requests now.

related to snorunt's pokedex entries.

---

You knew hybrid children always posed their own set of interesting situations for their human parents, but you were most stunned by how the poor boy hid at the other side of the room near an open window to keep away from the heat. Ingo always bared the heat from the oven with ease. Perhaps that was due to his an ability to regulate his temperature better. Erin was still a Snorunt, so his ability to keep himself cool even in environments that did not benefit him had yet to develop. Still, you removed the dish from the oven. Food was important. The freezing nature of where you lived only grew worse as winter approached. Even in the dead heat of summer, it was rare to see the ground without some level of pure white dusting it.

A perfect place for Froslass and Snorunt hybrids to live. Erin brought his coat closer to him, attempting to shield himself from the newly freed warm air. The snow outside fell endless near the window, that helped chill him. Out in that snow was your husband, hunting for herbs and foods. Seeing him all curled, however, reminded you of old folklore related to the little guy's related pokemon species. You hummed as you opened the freezer to pull out the ball of ice you had frozen for the lad. As you walked towards him, his head perked up.

You offered the ball of ice to him, which he eagerly took. It was not long before he began to bite it. Snow and ice were the only food of Snorunts. While Erin could consume human food, it seemed best that he mostly relied on what was natural for his inhuman genetics to consume. Smiling at your son, you decided to tell him about legends. “Did you know that homes who have a Snorunt living in it are said to prosper?” you asked him. His big eyes stared at you for a moment.

“No…” he shook his head, “Am I good luck?” You pet his head with a warm feeling in your heart.

“With how happy you make me and your dad, you must be,” you cooed at him. Erin's mouth went wide as he gasped at you. The ice was sat down on a nearby table before he hugged you excitedly. His chilly form sunk right into your bones, but the pain was absolutely bearable due to just how happy he was.

Ingo sighed as he dropped the bag of herbs, vegetables, and meat he had painstakingly hunted or dared to try a market for. He opened the door to his home to find a meal waiting for him at the table. A small smile played at his lips as he brought the bag in. Peering into the living room, he spied you and Erin sleeping on the couch. The Snorunt hybrid was passed out on top of you, who was covered in many layers of blankets in order to stave off the chill the boy provided.

He was so lucky to have such a family despite ending up as he had.

#ingo.ima #pokehybrid au #The Erin.ima

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dark-ambition · 11 months ago

Text

“Show em off or you’re lying, honey!” Angel Dust, shouting to Angel Dust, being a menace like always.

“We talkin’ about tits? I got fuckin’ KNOCKERS!”

#it feels better biting down…(angel dust ic)#femminaeroe

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idkthisisjustforfanfic · 4 years ago

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that makes four.

story page | talk to me + join the tag list

PART 1

Your feet dangled down from the stool, elbows on the granite counter when Jeff turned around. “Alright,” he said, lips in a thin smile when he revealed the plate of reheated lasagna that someone dropped off in the last few days. “Smells good.”

You looked up at him with an unimpressed stare. “It looks a little disgusting.”

“It’s vegan, I think.”

“Jesus,” you rolled your eyes. “You start one all natural skincare line and people think you only eat plant-based shit.”

He let out a small laugh, set the plate down and watched as you picked up the fork. One bite--mediocre. Not exactly hot enough, but after all Jeff had done for you the last few days, you didn’t have the heart to demand he put it in for another minute.

“So--do you think it went well?”

You laughed around the food in your mouth, picked up a paper napkin and let your head tilt to the side. “As good as a funeral could be.”

The lights in your kitchen were dim and the sun had already faded behind the trees, the house quiet after people finally filed out. Friends, extended family, strangers you’d never met had flocked to Los Angeles for the funeral of your famous father.

It’d been coming from a mile away. His health declined, an obvious result of the cocaine and the cigarettes and whatever else he’d ingested regularly in the 70s. A heart attack a year ago put him on a fast track to the afterlife, but he always joked that he’d probably end up in hell.

Being in the music industry ruined him, in a way--it ruined your parents’ marriage and it ruined a lot of the relationships your father had. Blow outs and big fights that left him exiled from a lot of social circles, sometimes never speaking to people again after one bad phone call. But it was never like that with Irv.

“Well, I’ve never seen my dad cry so hard,” Jeff smiled. “He really loved him.”

Another bite of the soggy noodles and fake cheese. “I know.”

A comfortable silence, the doors off the kitchen were open, a breeze from the backyard let the southern California warmth blow through the sheer curtains when you sipped at your left over wine.

Jeff was the closest thing you had to a sibling, his family was all you had left at this point. You were tossed in the bathtub with him and his siblings as a baby, shoved into family photos and tagged along for vacations.

Being closest in age to Jeff meant people always hoped it would be the two of you that would end up together. Happily ever after or having babies of your own. But when you saw Jeff wolf down a whole pizza at his bar mitzvah, any hope of a spark between the two of you had been permanently extinguished.

His older sister was the one who told you what it meant to have sex, and after your mom died, his mom helped you pick out a dress for your Sweet Sixteen.

She was the one who talked you off the ledge when you found out you were pregnant only a few years later, she was the one who threw you both baby showers and she was the one who helped you through your divorce only six months earlier.

So now that your dad was gone, too, you wondered where you fit into their family and what your definition of family even was.

Before the thought could cross your mind, the front door was pushed open and the sound of high pitched giggles floated in from the foyer.

CeCe’s tiny voice echoed down the hall. “Uncle Jeff?”

“Is that my CeCe?” He took a few steps forward and she ran straight into his legs, he hoisted her up onto his hip when Maeve rounded the corner with Tristan in tow.

“Hi honey,” you opened an arm so your ten-year-old could fit into the side of you. She leaned her head on her shoulder. “How was ice cream?”

The easiest ploy to get them out of the house while you hosted some kind of awkward afterparty.

“Fine,” she sighed. “But Tristan said that funerals are a selfish attempt by the living to hold on to someone after they’re dead.”

You blinked a few times and looked down at her, shocked by the words and apparently, her ability to understand them. You looked over at Tristan, arched eyebrows to communicate how displeased you were.

His eyes went wide when Jeff choked down a laugh. “I didn’t--I don’t know what you’re talking about Maeve.”

You kissed Maeve on the head. “Well, Tristan is wrong about a lot of things, trust me. But you two should go get ready for bed, it’s been a long day.”

You looked over at him again--younger by two years and easily one of the most important people in your life. You met him only a year after you started your business, he had a knack for brand management and eye for design that you couldn’t pass up. He was way too sarcastic and cynical to be your regular babysitter, but Jeff and his family were basically in the receiving line beside you.

Jeff let CeCe climb down and Maeve took her by the hand as they headed for the kitchen stairs to the second floor, leaving you alone at the island with two of your closest friends.

He waited until he heard the water turn on from their bathroom sink, then whispered in Tristan’s direction. “Great idea to say that to a ten-year-old and a six-year-old after their grandpa dies.”

Tristan rolled his eyes theatrically, “she asked why so many people came and why she’d never met any of them if they loved her grandpa so much.”

“Well, you can expect a bill for their therapy in a few years,” you laughed, forking more lasagna into your mouth.

Tristan made his way over to the fridge and pulled out the glass dish, helping himself to a piece when Jeff took a seat beside you. “How are you holding up?”

“Fine,” you glanced at him sideways, suspicious about any ulterior motive he might have.

“Okay, Y/N,” Jeff laughed, Tristan eyed you from over his shoulder like he didn’t believe you. “Let me try again. How are you feeling emotionally?”

You cleared your throat and swallowed the most recent bite of dinner. “Oh, you mean cause my husband left me six months ago and my dad just died and now I’m a single mom with two fiesty daughters who just inherited a giant house aaaaaand,” you drew out the word for dramatic effect. “I’m a business owner who barely gets any sleep?”

“That’s what I was getting at, yes,” Jeff nodded and fought a smirk.

“I’m alright,” you sighed. “Tired. Kind of freaked out about what the fuck is going on in my life, but, I’ll survive. I always survive."

You knew you would--in fact, you’d been waiting for this moment for the last few weeks. When Jeff’s mom called to tell you your dad needed to be put in hospice, you prepared. You talked to Maeve and CeCe and explained it all in a way they’d understand. His life on earth is over, but we can still talk to him and visit a pretty garden to remember him.

It was a lot to deal with only a few months after your high school sweetheart turned husband admitted he’d been having an affair and moved out, you saw on Facebook that he’d since bought a motorcycle and was spending most of his time at bars along the coast. That whole fiasco was harder to explain to your children.

And now suddenly everyone wanted to make sure you were okay. Frozen dinners, offers to drive your kids to and from their extracurriculars, a lot of attention was suddenly thrust onto you and your family, as if you hadn’t always hated that growing up.

But you knew the time would come when life would settle back down. Cousins and aunts and uncles would fly home, people would stop asking how you were doing post divorce. Dust would settle and the sun would set on this chapter and frankly, it couldn’t happen soon enough.

So here you were, the funeral was over, the dinner in his honor at Jeff’s parents, the media coverage was starting to die down and life could return to normal. Or, at least, a new normal.

Your dad had been a fixture in your life--weekly dinner dates with grandpa gave you a minute to yourself after working long days and answering endless phone calls. A glass of wine on the couch or even dinner with Tristan and Zoey was a nice escape from breaking up fights or figuring out how to reattach the head of a Barbie doll after someone shoved someone into a closet and tears and screaming ensued.

“You will definitely survive,” Jeff nodded.

Tristan came and sat, forked into the lasagna and made a face when he realized how bad it was. “Is this fake cheese?”

“Unfortunately,” you nodded.

Tristan made a face and then cleared his throat. “I, for one, think this is the start of a new chapter for you. New opportunities, new love,” he smirked.

A quick retort: “Yeah, that’s obviously the first priority right now.”

“He’s right, though,” Jeff said. “You have a fresh start, a totally new chapter.”

You nodded--they were right, but easing into a new chapter felt a lot better than trying to dive right in.

“Speaking of a fresh start, you know, changing things up,” Jeff forced a grin in your direction. “Can we actually talk for a second?”

You eyed him suspiciously, put your fork down to bow out from eating the world’s worst lasagna. “Yeah?”

“I have kind of a weird favor to ask. And--I know it’s kind of bad timing, with everything going on, but--just hear me out, okay?”

Instead of replying, you watched him, lifted your brows to encourage him to continue and tread carefully.

“So I have a client who isn’t from here, he bought a house but it’s in the middle of getting renovated. There’s kind of been a lot going on, it’s a long story.”

“Okay,” you nodded, unsure where he was going with it.

“He needs a place to stay, and I was wondering if maybe he could stay here for a little.”

“Here, like, here here?” You pointed to the floor of your kitchen, an elegant upgrade from the more modest house in Woodland Hills you’d occupied before the divorce.

Along with the death of your father came the inheritance of his Bel Air estate and all of the bedrooms, the four car garage, the manicured lawn and the pool out back. Some people thought you should sell it, use the cash to make trusts for the girls or save for college.

Selling it didn’t feel right, though. It was the house he worked so hard for, the house you called home for the later half of your teen years and the place you always came back to when things got hard. So instead of putting it on the market and closing that chapter, once again, you returned to the safe haven in the hills when you didn’t know where else to turn.

“Yeah, I know it sounds crazy, but you have the room and it might be fun to have someone else around and--”

“I have two daughters, Jeff, I can’t just let a stranger live with us.”

“He’s not a stranger, Y/N, he’s my friend. We’re really close.”

“Who is he?” Tristan asked, waving his fork in the air to remind us that he was still present.

“Harry Styles.”

Tristan’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “The kid from the boyband?”

“No way,” you shook your head, dismissing it before you could even let his name register. “I’m not having a pop star boy band kid stay in my house.”

“Okay,” Jeff held up a hand to get Tristan to relax, then moved to point at you. “He’s 24, number one. He’s not a kid, he’s, like, only a few years younger than us.”

“Yes,” you nodded, “exactly. I don’t need a 24-year-old living with my daughters.”

“He’s not like that, though. He’s responsible and he’s a family friendly dude, and--”

“Then why can’t he live with you? Or with your parents?”

“I don’t have the room,” he said. “And my dad hates house guests.”

You rolled your eyes, it was obnoxious, but it was true. Irv hated having people stay over almost as much as he hated it when your dad beat him in golf.

Jeff took your silence as an opportunity to continue selling you on the idea. “He just finished his tour, he’s working on his second album. He’s probably going to be in the studio a lot, Y/N. Do you really think I would let some crazy party animal live with my nieces?”

Another eye roll from both you and Tristan.

“Is this like, just a few nights?” You asked.

“Like, two weeks. Tops.”

“Two weeks?!” You shook your head. “No--I can’t put them through that after all the shit that’s been going on this year. Why can’t he just stay in a hotel?”

“Cause that’s lonely and he’s a people person and--I don’t know, it might be good for you to have someone around.”

You rolled your eyes that, was it a jab at your new status as a single mom or new status as a fatherless daughter? Unsure.

Jeff stood from the counter and grabbed for his phone on the far end of the island. “Just think about it, okay? I’ve gotta run. A few weeks, built in babysitting, maybe--he’s great with kids.”

“I’ve already thought about it,” you told him, resting your chin in your hand and offering a sugary sweet smile. “No fucking way.”

“Mommy!” CeCe’s voice called from upstairs, you hoisted yourself up, ready to tuck them in and forget that Jeff had ever asked such a ludicrous question.

“I would owe you big time--it might be fun! You’ve got the room, he could be a positive male influence on the girls.” He wiggled his eyebrows at the end of his sentence--like that would really sway you.

“And I’m not that?” Tristan pulled his head back, offended.

“You’re the one who told them funerals are stupid,” Jeff said with a sarcastic smirk.

“And you’re the crazy one trying to let a stranger move in here like it’s an AirBnB,” you shot back at Jeff. “So maybe they do need a better male influence than both of you.”

“Mommy!” CeCe called again, more impatient this time.

“I’m coming!” You shouted. “You, let yourself out when you’re finished eating this terrible meal,” you pointed at Tristan and the lasagna. “And you,” you pointed at Jeff with a smirk. “Please never speak to me again.”

He was already heading for the door, keys in hand when he blew you a kiss. “Love you, see you soon!”

“Love you,” you called back, bounding up the stairs, mom mode activated.

A text message the next day when you were at work:

Jeff Azoff (1:43pm): 🙏😇🙏😇

You blew air from your lips, Zoey sat across from you at a conference table when you took a late lunch. She was the first friend you made when you started high school, your long time confidant aside from Tristan and Jeff and a sure bet to tell it like it is.

Now she regularly popped into the Luna offices and she loved nothing more than acting like she was a higher up at your business. She’d rather be doing that than admit she was a new mom with no clue what the next chapter of her life would look like. You had that in common.

Her two-month-old son, Benny, sat in a carrier on the ground, his eyelashes fluttered when Zoey put her feet up on the chair beside her.

“What’s the sigh for?”

“Jeff is being annoying.”

“What’d he do now?”

You looked over at her, nose deep in her phone when you took another bite of the burrito bowl she’d picked up for you. You didn’t know if it was worth it to explain it all. Zoey was excitable, never one to turn down an adventure and her aptly timed identity crisis that came with becoming a mom was sure to make her encourage bad decisions even more.

She looked up at you, suddenly aware of the wheels spinning in your mind.

“Spill it,” she instructed. She put her phone down and let out a breath, clasped her hands and waited for you to fill her in.

“He asked me to let a friend of his stay with us in my dad’s house.”

“Your house,” she corrected. “Deed’s in your name now.”

“My house,” you nodded. “And I feel weird about it.”

“Who’s the friend?”

“Some client of his,” you tried to wave it off as if the name didn’t matter.

It didn’t, really. You’d long been exposed to the rich and famous just because of the nature of your father’s work. He was one of the biggest managers in the music industry in partnership with Jeff’s dad, so you were no stranger to beautiful people with beautiful cars and beautiful homes. When Jeff took on the family business, you only grew more accustomed to it.

“So a celebrity?” she shimmied her shoulders in excitement. “Which one?”

“Harry Styles,” you said the name slowly, quietly, even though it was just the two of you in the second floor conference room and even though this was your office that you bought and you owned and you ran.

“He’s hot,” she nodded casually, less impressed than you’d expected.

“He’s also like twenty-something, so it's disgusting for you to say that.”

“Oh relax,” she dismissed your concern. “He could be your pool boy.”

Zoey--who also grew up in Southern California and spent plenty of time at your house as a kid--hadn’t yet grown so accustomed to the coming and going of celebrities. Her parents owned a florist shop in Santa Monica and in high school you had to tell her she could only come to a Britney Spears concert if she didn’t cry when you inevitably met her in the green room thanks to your dad.

“I have children,” you reminded her. “A ten-year-old who might as well be fifteen and a six-year-old who would think I literally bought her a human playmate.”

“But if he’s friends with Jeff I highly doubt he’s a serial killer,” she reasoned.

“Wow, you are completely missing the point.”

“What’s the point, then?”

“It’s weird--I can’t have a stranger move in with my kids.”

“Why not?”

“Because first their dad left us and now their grandpa died.”

“Sounds like they need a new man in their life.”

You ignored the similarity of her words with Jeff’s from the other night. “I just think it’s crazy.”

“Okay,” she sat up straight and suddenly looked like this was morphing into a business conversation. “How long?”

“Two weeks.”

“Oh my god,” she turned her palms towards the sky. “Just do it.”

“What? No!”

“It’s two weeks--it’ll take your mind off of all the shit that’s been going on, it’ll be a fun distraction for the girls. You have so much space in that house you will never even know he’s there. And you’re helping a friend.”

She wasn’t wrong: Harry could likely stay in the bedroom all the way on the other end of the hall from where the girls slept. Maeve was thrilled to get her own room in the move and CeCe would occasionally run into your room after a nightmare, so the space was a plus.

He’d have his own room, his own bathroom. Hell, he could even park in the extra garage and enter from the back of the house. Maybe you wouldn’t even notice he existed.

You sighed, tugged at your necklace when you met her gaze. “I just feel really protective over them right now. I feel like Luke ruined their sense of family and now with my dad gone--”

She stuck her tongue out in disgust at the sound of your ex’s name. “I get that--but they have you. They have Jeff and his family and they have me and Shawn and now Benny.”

You offered a small smile at her reassurance. She was right in a lot of ways. The Azoffs were as much a family to your daughters as they had been to you. Shelli and Irv were like grandparents, they offered to babysit plenty of times and they always managed to get the girls the most amazing birthday presents.

But something in you knew it wasn’t the same. You’d dreamed of giving your daughters the sense of family you never had: a mom and a dad who loved each other. One house, not two that had two different beds and sets of books or toys.

Luckily and unluckily, your ex hadn’t made a huge deal about custody. Visits here and there were outlined in your divorce papers, but at this point in time he didn’t seem the most interested in maintaining a relationship with his daughters, even though he promised way back when that he’d never leave.

Getting pregnant with him during college wasn’t planned, but he swore you’d make it work and you tied the knot only a few months before Maeve was born. Things were good at first, you always knew you’d have more than one--if only to combat your own only-child loneliness--and then CeCe came five years later when you felt a little more prepared.

“I don’t think it’s going to traumatize them, Y/N. I mean, the least you could do is meet the guy.”

You watched her for a minute, blew air from your nose in a huff before you picked up your phone.

Y/N L/N (1:56pm): Fine. I’ll meet him.

Three days later you pulled up to a cafe in Brentwood and took a deep breath in the parking lot. If he was creepy, you wouldn’t go for it. If you got even the slightest weird vibe from him, you’d ex-communicate Jeff and only go over to visit his parents with the girls when he wasn’t around.

You’d already been leaning towards just doing it, especially once Tristan got a glass of wine in you and reminded you what your dad would have said: he who helps is one who prospers.

A few sleepless nights left you staring at the ceiling and wondering if you were crazy. You just now had the chance to let life settle down and here you were, mourning the loss of your biggest supporter, trying to piece yourself back together post divorce, and considering letting a stranger move in? Grief really did do strange things to people.

But when you walked in and found them sitting at a table in the back, something clicked.

Your dad was already fond of your possible houseguest, which you only knew from overhearing previous conversations between him and Irv about how proud they were of Jeff for picking up the family business, and now it all made sense.

A small part of you--probably the stupidest part of you--wondered if there was something cosmic about it. Your dad was always one to let his artists stay in the house, if they weren’t creepy, of course. You grew up with bands rehearsing in the backyard and going to shows at the Troubadour before you were old enough to drive, and you turned out fine.

“Hi,” Harry stood, offered a hand and introduced himself after Jeff gave you a kiss on the cheek. “Harry, pleasure to meet you.” Polite, maybe a bit of a kiss ass. Your dad must have loved him.

“Y/N,” you nodded, sat down when Jeff tugged out a chair for you. “Thanks for--uh--meeting with me, I guess.”

“Thanks for maybe letting me stay at your house,” he offered a sheepish smile, held your gaze for a second when Jeff adjusted the sunglasses clipped to his shirt.

“I’m actually surprised you guys haven’t met before,” he said.

“I’ve been a little busy this year,” you reminded him with a nod. “But--nice to finally meet you.”

Harry nodded, a dimple in his left cheek ignited a tiny spark in your chest, but you pushed Zoey’s words out of your mind. Two weeks, it wasn’t a big deal. He’d be in and out and this would be a blip on the radar.

“We can order coffee or something, but Y/N, I’m assuming you have like, a whole interrogation mapped out?”

You pretended to laugh at Jeff’s joke, turned to Harry and offered a no-nonsense smile. “I have two children, I got divorced earlier this year and my dad just died. So I don’t need any drama or anything. This is temporary and I’m doing this to help out a friend. Jeff, that is, not you.”

He laughed at your clarification and nodded. “Right. This is just me living in your house. No drama. Short-term.”

“And obviously my children will be there, so no guests.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Okay I’m not that much older than you,” you said it quickly, offered a small smile when he looked a little scared.

“Sorry--no, I didn’t mean that in a rude way.”

“No ma’am,” you added a rule, pulling a laugh from both of them when you lifted another finger in the air to count them off. “No drugs or alcohol, unless it’s like a glass of wine at dinner or something,” you shrugged.

“Look,” Jeff leaned forward. “Y/N’s kids are great, she’s got a great skincare company and she’s a kickass human. And you need a place to stay, so don’t fuck this up.”

“You both have my word. No drugs, no alcohol, no guests, no ma’am,” he smirked in your direction. “I’ve lived alone for a while, so, it’ll be nice to have some roommates.”

You nodded slowly and watched him for a second. A hoodie with the name of the management firm your dad and Irv had started, a backwards baseball hat and simple Ray-Bans. You ignored the fluttering in your veins from just looking at him, your own words echoed against the walls of your skull: he’s also like twenty-something, so that’s disgusting.

This was his brand, you were sure. Something Jeff had worked hard on--the looks, the smile, the exact formula that management firms drooled over was playing out in front of you. You sipped your drink once the waiter delivered three cappuccinos. Two weeks, tops.

Los Angeles afternoons were meant for playing outside, which is what your daughters did best if they weren’t busy pulling each other’s hair. You had dinner on the stove--enough for five--and a knot of nerves in your stomach when the wheels of his fancy car crunched atop the gravel.

The girls ran to greet him and Jeff showed him around the house. Now, Harry sat across from you at the table, Maeve to his left with an unimpressed look on her face when you cleared your throat. “Okay, gratitude time.”

Jeff set his fork back down, a guilty look on his face to admit he’d forgotten about your pre-dinner ritual.

CeCe squirmed in her seat, let out a sigh when Maeve protested with a flutter of her eyelashes. “I don’t have anything to be thankful for,” she informed you.

“That feels a little hard to believe,” you nodded, losing patience for her attitude over the last few days. “CeCe, do you want to go?”

Your younger daughter looked up at you, scrunched her mouth and thought about it. “I don’t have anything either.”

You tried not to groan aloud. After the week you’d had and the sudden changes in your life, disciplining your daughters felt like the last thing you wanted to do, if only they’d just behave.

“I can go,” Harry lifted his hand sheepishly as if he was sitting in a classroom and not in your dining room, a dimple on his cheek when he smiled sheepishly.

“Take it away,” you motioned towards him.

“M’thankful for being here, having a place to stay--and what looks like it will be a delicious meal.” By now he had a bit of smug look on his face, maybe proud of the fact that he’d broken the ice and stepped up to the pre-dinner prompt.

“Mom’s cooking is a solid six out of ten on a good day,” Maeve looked over at him, her fork now in her hand as if she was ready to dig in.

“Okay,” you leaned in and caught her gaze. “Drop the attitude or go to your room.”

“I’m thankful for Emma,” she named her friend, her quick submission after she rolled her eyes told you she just wanted to eat and get this over with. “She warned me today that Hayley was wearing a shirt I wore last week so I think she’s copying me.”

“Okay,” you nodded, you’d accept anything at this point. “CeCe? Last chance.”

“I’m grateful for pudding.”

Harry let out a quiet laugh, you nodded and said: “Great. I’m thankful for you two,” you smiled at them, hopeful that this nightly tradition would hold some type of meaning, more than just eye rolls and pre-pubescent angst from Maeve.

Jeff looked over at the girls, “I’m thankful for my friend Harry getting to meet my other friends, CeCe and Maeve.”

“Aww,” Harry smiled, a hand clutched to his heart when he looked between them.

“Alright,” you were annoyed by how good your daughters were at turning on their charm for anyone but you. Jeff was often the fun uncle, just like your ex had been the fun dad, which left you forcing them to play this gratitude game every night after they finished their homework.

CeCe wasted no time digging into the spaghetti on her plate, leaving Jeff to ask Maeve: “so what are you going to do about Hayley?”

“I don’t know,” Maeve sighed. “She’ll die when she finds out that you’re sleeping over,” she pointed her fork at Harry.

“He’s not sleeping over,” you corrected. “He’s staying in one of the guest rooms, remember?” You’d already explained it a few times to them. A few weeks, he’s working on more music, he’ll be busy, he’s not here to play with you.

“Whatever,” Maeve said. “Maybe I’ll hold it over her.”

“Maeve,” you looked over, unsure what had gotten into her. “I thought we talked about this stuff with Hayley?”

“I know--but she just keeps annoying me,” Maeve explained.

“Dump pasta on her head,” CeCe suggested with a giggle.

“Don’t do that,” you looked at CeCe and poked her in the stomach.

“I personally am a big fan of that idea,” Jeff smiled over at CeCe. “But it’d probably be better to just forget about it. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”

“Or the sincerest form of annoying,” she retorted.

Harry let out a laugh at that, caught your gaze when you wondered how soon it’d take him to get annoyed with your kids.

They were great--smart, funny, clever, definitely witty and sometimes dramatic. But they were good kids.

You remembered how tough it was to adapt to motherhood, even though they were your own. Something told you that Harry, no matter how short his stay would be, was not in the chapter of his life that entailed finding joy in playdates and pillow fights.

But he made it through dinner, quiet but friendly and as soon as Maeve was finished, she begged him to play squishball outside before sunset.

“Squishball?” his eyebrows dipped together. “Never heard of it.”

“It’s basically just baseball but with a softer bat and a foam ball cause mom doesn’t want us to break our skulls,” Maeve informed.

“I never said break your skulls,” you argued.

“But it’s what you meant,” she shrugged.

“I would love to play,” Harry laughed, unbelievably entertained by the back and forth he’d already witnessed. They yanked him outside and set up their tiny diamond, CeCe pulled on a tutu just for flair and you and Jeff were left to handle the aftermath of a family dinner.

Jeff put the final plate into the dishwasher after a little bit and offered a hesitant smile when he turned around. “So?”

“So what? It’s been like an hour and a half of him being here.”

Their laughter from outside was audible, CeCe shrieked when Maeve made contact with the bat and sent the ball soaring into the air. “The girls clearly love him.”

“Of course they do--they love anyone for the first two hours.”

“I think he’ll be good for you guys.”

You rolled your eyes, wiped the counter with the sponge when he continued.

“And you guys will be good for him.”

This got your attention. “How so?”

“He’s a people-person, never likes being on his own too much. Some structure and responsibility is good for him.”

“So I’m babysitting him?”

“Oh my god,” he laughed. “Relax, will you? This could be a mutually beneficial thing if you let it, that’s all I’m saying.”

You didn’t read too much into it, you figured Jeff was peppering you with reassurance only to calm your nerves or quell your concerns. When he was finished helping you clean, he hugged the girls goodbye and waved over his shoulder, leaving Harry alone in your house with you and your daughters and nothing but good intentions.

You left him downstairs at first, helped CeCe brush her hair and sat on the floor when Maeve picked out her clothes for the next day: hopefully Hayley doesn’t own this dress.

When you headed back downstairs an hour later, the girls were tucked in, the lights were off, and your usual plan would have been to check your work emails if it weren’t for the dimpled guy in your living room.

He stood at the bookcase, hands clasped behind his back when you found him.

“Hi, sorry--bedtime is always a--” you paused, not even knowing the right label. “A shit show. But thanks for playing with them earlier.”

He laughed, turned around and offered a smile. “No worries--they seem like great kids.”

“They are,” you assured. “Maeve’s been a bit snarky lately but I think that’s just the whole beginning of puberty thing.” You cringed a little when the words left your mouth, wondering if it was too much information for someone who likely had cooler things to do than talk about ten-year-olds and training bras.

But he smiled, shoved his hands in his pockets when you said: let me show you around.

He’d arrived at the worst time. Homework, dinner prep, CeCe crying because Maeve finished her homework first. You didn’t have the chance to give him a tour and you figured it would be better coming from you than from Jeff, that way you could remind him of all the rules.

You showed him the ground floor first. The library, the family room, the two offices and the three different remotes that all worked different TVs or speakers or lamps. He marveled at the pictures on the wall in your dad’s old office space, he was a legend, he told you.

He climbed the stairs behind you and whispered in response when you pointed out what was behind each door. Bathroom, Maeve’s room, CeCe’s room, guest room, another bathroom, master suite, guest room, his room.

You pushed the door open and stepped aside to let him in. Gray walls, a wooden four-post king-sized bed. Throw pillows you’d picked out when you moved in a few weeks ago, a dresser to the left. He looked around and nodded. “S’perfect.”

“Good,” you said, walking over to a small linen closet in his attached bath. “Towels are in here, should be soap and stuff in the shower--had our housekeeper stock it.”

“Thanks,” he nodded again.

“I don’t know where you parked, but there’s a garage in the back that my dad used to keep some of his sports cars in--there’s definitely room and that way you don’t have to leave yours out if it rains.”

Were you talking too much? You just wanted him to feel at home or at least welcomed.

“Amazing,” he said. “Thank you.”

A repetitive answer but it didn't stop you from rambling.

“Keurig’s on the counter--creamer in the fridge. Should be plenty of food but obviously feel free to stock what you like. Except like, weed.”

“Weed doesn’t go in the fridge...” he eyed you suspiciously, the same dimple appeared on his cheek and you rolled your eyes.

“I know--I know weed doesn’t go in the fridge.”

“Just the no drug policy,” he nodded.

“Right. Am I forgetting anything?”

He shifted his weight on his feet and shrugged his shoulders, a subtle shake of his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Okay,” you nodded, one final look around the room to make sure he had what he needed. His duffle bag was already in the corner, you’d told Jeff to put it upstairs and out of the way so CeCe and Maeve didn’t get nosy.

“I just have a question actually, if that’s alright.”

“Yeah?”

“When did you move in here?”

“Uh, beginning of August, so like, almost a month ago.”

He nodded, his eyes curious despite the fact that he didn’t ask more.

“We had to put my dad in hospice, I was looking for a place anyway after,” a quick motion over your shoulder to gesture to the girls. “My divorce, so--a lot of change, but it’s been nice to be home.”

He nodded thoughtfully, the quiet of the bedroom suddenly felt heavy. “S’a beautiful house.”

“Thank you,” you looked around the room again, if only to put your eyes somewhere other than his face. “I felt shitty about redecorating it at first, but--it was a little too much of a 70s bachelor pad.”

“Leave it to Walt,” he joked.

That piqued your interest. “Did you know my dad? Like, did you spend any time with him?”

He pushed his lips out in thought but shook his head when he sat down on the bed. “Not really--met him a few times at events with Jeff, but I never spent any quality time with him.”

You nodded--he was a busy guy, popular and well respected in his industry. “He was a good person, good grandfather, too.”

Harry smiled at that. “Always heard that Irv was the balls but your dad was the heart.”

You laughed, scrunched your nose at the saying you’d heard a hundred times. The two of them were partners in crime, two peas in a pod, yet they couldn’t be more different. He spoke again before you could reply, voice soft in the sleepy house.

“I mean, if you're his daughter he obviously did something right.”

He held your gaze just long enough for you to feel something, something you pushed out of your mind so quickly that your hand was on the door knob before he could even say goodnight.

Two weeks, tops.

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seijorhi · 4 years ago

Text

The Fall

Somebody said Devil Kuroo and I have not recovered since. Anyway, enjoy my first offering for the Spooktober event!

Kuroo Tetsurou x Female Reader

TW Dub/non-con, blood, gore, minor character death, religious themes, nsfw, mild smut

It’s subtle, the shift in the air as two polished black shoes cross the threshold. The candles on the altar spit and sputter, and a shiver trickles down your spine.

You wonder if the humans scattered along the pews can sense it too, if they can taste the bitter, metallic tang in the air, feel the same prickling sensation at the nape of their necks as tiny hairs stand on end. The woman seated two rows in front of you stiffens, her breath catching between her sobbed prayers, but she doesn’t turn and neither do you.

Do they have any idea the evil that’s trespassing on holy ground? The danger that they’re all in - the danger that you’ve inadvertently brought upon them?

This is all your fault.

His footsteps, slow and measured echo mockingly throughout the nave, but you’re rooted in place. It’s instinctual, you think; the fear that sinks its claws into your heart, seeping into your veins like ice.

There is nowhere left for you to run.

You have no more aces hidden up your sleeves.

The wards that protected you, kept you safe and hidden for years are broken, and your friends-

Blood slicked floors, body parts strewn across your apartment. A howling scream pierces the air around you, and it takes a moment to realise that it belongs to you. You fall to your knees, bile rising in your throat as you stare in wide eyed horror at the grisly mess he’d left in his wake.

He could have killed them with a snap of his fingers, but he’d taken his time, hurt them, ripped the spines from their bodies slowly, keeping them alive as they screamed and begged through tears and snot and blood and vomit…

He’d left them for you to find like a gruesome homecoming gift. Punishment, you think, for daring to hide you from him.

It’s late, well past midnight. The only people in the crumbling, dilapidated church at this hour are those with nowhere else to go. Vagrants, the helpless, those lost to grief and addiction seeking the barest semblance of comfort amongst the burning incense, high ceilings and grimy, stained glass windows.

And you.

Though you suppose you fit into the former. Where else could hope to hide now that your sanctuary has been torn to pieces? This is the last place you’d choose to go, even now the long healed scars on your shoulder blades sting and burn, a painful and persistent reminder that you no longer belong amongst these hallowed halls.

Foolishly, you’d still come. Consecrated ground was supposed to protect you, however temporarily.

He shouldn’t be here. He can’t be here, it’s not possible, but-

Dressed in a crisp black suit with a blood red tie, the handsome figure settles himself down on the pew beside you. A smirk curls at his lips as he stretches long legs, crossing his ankles and leisurely fixing the sleeves of his jacket as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.

You don’t dare draw breath. Sitting stiff and ramrod straight, you stare at your trembling hands curled into fists on your lap, the ancient golden pendant lying broken in your palm. There’s dried blood smeared across the back of your hands, flecks and splatters hidden among the dark fabric of your skirt. The sight of it makes your stomach churn.

His chin tilts, golden, cat-like pupils settling on you. You fight the urge to fidget, to flee, fingernails biting into the soft, delicate skin of your palm as he studies you.

“Hey, angel,” he purrs, his voice like warm honey. “It’s been a while.”

Finally you tear your eyes away from your lap, meeting his smirk with an icy glare. “Don’t call me that,” you snap bitterly.

He laughs, stretching back to drape his arm over the wooden backrest of the pew, his fingers just barely grazing your shoulders. “But I like calling you angel, and I’ve missed you.” The last part is growled, a low and rumbling timbre, too deep, too rich to be mistaken for anything close to human. It makes your hackles rise and your stomach clench uneasily. Unbidden, memories flash to your mind- his teeth at your neck, his sweat slicked body moving atop yours. Unbearable, searing heat flooding your core, large hands encircling yours to hold you down as his hips eagerly rut up against your ass, “Give into me, angel, you know you want to.”

His grin widens, and you know that it’s deliberate.

You don’t have the luxury of anger, not when the fear so visceral it threatens to choke you demands attention. He’s smiling amiably, but you’re not so naive as to believe that he’s not furious with you, that there won’t be punishments that await you for your escape.

One hundred and twenty years might pass in the blink of an eye for him, but it wouldn’t make a difference if it were only one, or even a single month, a day. You ran from him, and for every moment you were not at his side he would make you suffer - excruciating pain inflicted with pleasure until your mind broke and you couldn’t distinguish the two, until you were a babbling, beautiful mess begging for mercy.

Until you regretted ever even considering leaving his side after all that he’d done to keep you there.

He’d promised you as much a long time ago, hissing the threat into your ear as he forced you to ride his cock.

You’d fled anyway. And now, you’re trapped with nowhere left to run, and he knows it just as well as you do. But it’s not yourself that you’re scared for.

There will be plenty of time for that later.

Six innocent, oblivious humans dot the derelict pews, and the Father you’d watched tend to the burning candles and incense at the altar, meeting your stricken gaze for just a moment before returning to the task at hand.

It is for their sakes that you are afraid.

“A church, angel?” he sounds amused. “You know, I expected you to run after you found the dead witch and her partner, but here?” he tuts, shaking his head with a sigh. Pain, raw and visceral stabs at your heart and your shoulders shake with barely concealed anger, hands clenched so tight that blood seeps from the crescent shaped cuts in your palm. He eyes the gold pendant flecked with crimson in your grip, and for the first moment since he arrived, you watch that cavalier facade slip - a flicker of something dark and jealous twisting at his features. “They were the ones who kicked you out, don’t you remember? They ripped those lovely wings-”

“You tricked me, Kuroo! You lied!” the words spill from your tongue before you can hope to stop them. His golden eyes widen for a split second, surprised by your outburst, but it only lasts a moment before he’s smirking indulgently at you once more. Too late you realise your slip. The devil has a thousand names, but Kuroo was the one he gave when he first came to you.

You haven’t uttered that name in almost two hundred years.

“Did you think that the grace of God would protect you here, angel?” He slides closer, long, nimble fingers plucking the cross from your hands only to cast it aside. The faint metallic clinking as it falls and clatters across the marble floors makes you flinch, but he pays it no mind. “Did you truly believe that there is an ounce of anything holy left in this crumbling, decrepit shithole? And even if there were,” he pauses, leaning down to whisper in your ear as a warm palm slides up your thigh, “did you really think that would be enough to keep me from you?”

“K-Kuroo,” you gasp as he leans down to nuzzle into the crook of your neck, his mouth laving wet, hot, open mouthed kisses against the delicate skin there. His fingers delve under the hem of your skirt and it’s pure, unadulterated fear that hits you like a tidal wave, compelling you against your better instincts to claw at his wrist, halting him in his tracks.

He stills, warm breath fanning across your skin as he exhales sharply, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The flames from the candles on the altar sputter once more before they swell with frightening intensity, surging as the temperature in the chapel spikes.

“Angel,” he purrs lowly, the barest hint of an underlying threat lacing the endearment, and it feels as though there’s an invisible hand inside of your chest, clenching around your frantically beating heart. It’s a mistake, you know that even as his other hand reaches for your chin, gripping it tightly as he forces you to meet his molten gaze. “If you keep denying me what I want, I will raze this fucking church to the ground and let them all burn.”

This time you don’t so much as flinch when he tugs your panties to the side, rough fingertips brushing teasingly along your slit. “You’re going to let me defile you, sweet thing. You’re going to remember why you fell for me.”

His eyes are blown wide, dark pupils almost swallowing the gilded irises. Gone is the perfectly crafted human facade - this is the beast that lurks beneath, and you have run from him for long enough. Your heart hammers against your ribs, your tongue darting out to wet your lips, fighting back a shiver as he tracks the movement with predatory focus. You know as well as he does that the games are over, and you have lost.

Every cell in your body is screaming at you to run, but you cannot move.

His breath is ragged, a flush of pink dusting at his cheek as he stares at you, an unholy desire burning in those bottomless depths.

One beat passes, and then another-

He closes the gap between you two, crashing his lips against yours. The kiss isn’t sweet. It isn’t tender, but it sets you alight nonetheless. Without warning his fingers plunge into your plush, velvet walls and you gasp for him, clutching at his jacket sleeve.

“And when I take you, fuck you on these floors until you sing for me, angel, you’re going to love every second of it,” he snarls.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere kuroo #yandere kuroo x reader #yandere kuroo tetsurou #yandere kuroo tetsuro x reader #Devil!Kuroo #supernatural AU #spooktober #tw non con #tw dub con #tw blood #tw gore #tw minor character death #religious themes #sacreligious #just a little #religious symbolism #slight smut #pls don't let this flop or i'll cry :)

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dark-ambition · 1 year ago

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@erthlyheavn

When Angel had first gotten the paperwork and the letter invitation from the Lord (Lady?) Beezlebub herself to be sent down to Gluttony, he didn’t quite know what to expect. He knew that in all likelihood it was probably a client job, something where the Sin herself desired him in bed and decided to cash out enough money to get herself at the top of the list, to pay him out long enough for Valentino to be pleased as punch and send him off down into the depths of Gluttony (and of course not letting him see a single cent of that cash at all to begin with.) But when he had actually arrived in Gluttony and was escorted to Beezlebub’s palace, and finally met the Sin in person, he was a bit shocked to find that hadn’t been the reason at all. Rather, she had wanted to meet him completely on his own terms, as a celebrity to a Queen, and had prepared an entire dinner banquet for him and his arrival.

It was…something he wasn’t entirely used to, even with his own level of fame and influence that normally had richer clients wanting to doll him up and treat him to some fancier foods and appetizers for the sake of getting off on his “gratefulness” for their hospitality. He was more than a commoner to them, if only by means of exoticism, and so they often went out of their way to treat him to luxuries that he damn well couldn’t buy himself. But this? The banquet? It was completely different. Extravagant, full of food, of all different kinds, and it all smelled and tasted amazing. He had gorged himself, unashamedly, stuffing himself with as much as he could stomach, not even caring about the stupid fucking diet that Valentino constantly watched for, or how his ravenous eating might look in front of the Queen. All he saw was the food, and god DAMN did he want it.

Now, he was resting on a massive couch, surrounded by the warmest and softest blankets and pillows he’s ever felt, so soft that it made his fur feel like cheap cotton, his belly full of delicious food and feeling more relaxed than he ever has in a long time. He casually moves to sip at the intricate glass of dark red wine that one of the servants had poured for him, letting the rich flavor pour down his throat, and for a moment, he lets out a heavy sigh, simply basking in just how good everything felt at the moment. “…Fuck. I gotta ask, is this how the food always tastes down here? Because I’m tempted to go and ask for a goodie bag to take home with me when I go back. Haven’t tasted a beef roast or cheesy vodka sauce pasta that good in my whole fucking life.”

#it feels better biting down…(angel dust ic)#erthlyheavn

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lady-charinette · 5 years ago

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Pro-Hero!Tamaki Amajiki X F!Reader (aged up characters)

Rated: NSFW

Tags: Body worship, Gentle Love Making, Rough sex, Biting, Oral Sex, Dirty Talk, Dom!Tamaki

Heart of a Lion

“Come on Amajiki, you need to have the heart of a lion, not a kitten!”

Nejire’s words had haunted him to this day, despite already working full time at Fatgum’s agency, Tamaki still felt like he was falling short behind the other pros.

Even if Fatgum always tried to…lecture him.

“Straighten up Amajiki! You’re one of our best horses!”

“I’m not a horse…”

“So, stand stall and proud and show ‘em what you got!”

Still, no matter how supportive his teammates and friends were, there were always heroes out there who thought little of him.

“That guy? Will he handle this on his own? What was Fatgum thinking hiring that kid? My five year old son looks tougher!”

“I wonder if his quirk’s as strong as people say, I guess you need to have a strong quirk to make up for that weak spirit.”

Tamaki’s thoughts spiraled deeper and deeper into a dark void, until a gentle hand began running a soothing path through his hair and the voice of an angel reached his ears. “Tama?”

Opening his eyes, the pro-hero glanced up at Y/N, his girlfriend of three years, and smiled wrily. She blinked down at him in concern. “What’s wrong? You look exhausted, dear.” her hand never stopped its ministration on his hair and Tamaki expelled a sigh of relief, body sagging deeper into the bed and the soft suppleness of her thighs.

“….I…I was just…” her other hand sought his own on his chest and squeezed gently, her eyes looking down at him meaningfully.

“It’s alright if you don’t wanna talk about it, you know.” she offered him that soft smile that never failed to breach his defenses and make him feel like what he really was, a skilled pro-hero and a good man.

He wished he could pocket her precious smile, so he would always have it with him when faced with doubts.

With a quickly spreading redness, Tamaki nuzzled his head closer to her stomach and thighs. “I…I just had a rough day. I was…I was made fun of on the field….”

The hand in his hair stopped and Tamaki froze, quickly wrapping his arms around his girlfriend’s middle to stop her from rising off their bed. “W-Wait, Y-Y/N!”

The look she fixated him with spelled of death and torture. “Who were those assholes, dear?” her smile was deceptively sweet, but he’d long since learned not to be fooled by its saccharine quality when the eyes just above spoke of ice and fire.

He shook his head, sitting up to lay his hands on her shoulders and calm her down. “It’s f-fine…They were pro’s I normally don’t work with.” he already knew, as soon as she’d wedge the truth out of Fatgum or Kirishima, there would be a news headline of a woman tearing down two hero agencies and beating up the pro’s who had coincidentally humiliated her boyfriend.

Quirkless.

She sighed, her hands moving to cup his cheeks softly. “No, it’s not fine Tamaki. You’re a pro just like them, I bet you’re even a much better one than them too! Don’t listen to such jerks, they’re just jealous of your talent and your looks and your sunshine personality!” she pouted cutely, a sight that made his heart skip a beat.

Tamaki tried to avert his gaze in fear of his heart bursting, but he couldn’t tear it away no matter how hard he tried.

Still, he relaxed at her words, his hands still resting on her shoulders beginning to rub them gently. The tightly coiled string in his stomach coming loose and relaxing. “M-My looks? S-Sun-Sunshine personality? But Mirio is-”

Y/N shook her head, thumbs affectionately rubbing his cheeks. “Mirio may be the most obvious sunny boy out there, but your beauty lies in its subtlety.”

Subtlety?

At his adorably confused look, his girlfriend smiled softly and giggled. “Mhm. Your sun comes out when you’re out there helping people and fighting off the bad guys, it comes out whenever you’re surrounded by your friends and smiling and laughing. And it comes out when you’re with me and we spend time together. You may be Suneater, but to me, you’ll always be the most beautiful sun out there!” she grinned sheepishly, a shy blush dusting her cheeks.

Tamaki’s face outdid the redness of the crabs he was known to eat before fights, it was even redder than the traffic lights. The indescribable urge to suddenly kiss his girlfriend senseless for saying all these beautiful things about him washed over him and his body shook, trying to suppress it desperately.

She noticed it, eyes glancing at his shaking arms. “Huh? Tama-”

His voice came out more breathless than he thought, an octave or two deeper that made the blush on her own cheeks darken. She rarely heard her boyfriend’s voice go lower than it already was. “W-…Wh-What about…my looks?”

He wasn’t looking at her anymore, but his girlfriend was clever.

The redness of his entire face and ears, the twitching of his whole body, the large hands on her shoulders massaging her gave her a very good idea what her previously innocent praises did to her precious boyfriend.

A small smile curved her lips but she quickly hid it when his intense stare bounced back to her.

Y/N pretended to think, tongue sticking out in thought, smiling internally when his ears looking as red as a clown’s nose. “Hmmm… your looks…let’s see…”

She shifted closer to her boyfriend, her thighs touching his and she noted the small jump with underlying glee. “Well, for starters. You have beautiful hair, dear.” her hand moved back into the messy mane, purposefully scratching her nails along his scalp and brushing it back from his face.

His cheeks glowed.

“Did I mention those cute ears?” she playfully but gently flicked one of the appendages, a startled yelp leaving his trembling lips. Tamaki crossed his legs tightly.

Y/N smiled. “And that adorable nose?” she leaned in to give it a quick peck and to nuzzle her own nose with his, a gesture of affectionate they often traded with each-other whenever her beloved was too shy for a kiss. She giggled, “And those beautiful, intense eyes that just lure me into a trance.” she batted her eyelashes at him and she saw the moment something clicked in her boyfriend’s brain when said eyes finally met her gaze head on.

He swallowed with difficulty, voice thick with an emotion that sent a thrill down her spine. “W-What else?” he squirmed on the spot and her smile widened.

Her finger ran over his lips but she refused to kiss him, only riling him up further. “Those soft sweet lips that always steal my breath.” she smiled adoringly and Tamaki’s gaze softened with affection.

She leaned in again, fingers caressing his face and jaw with a feathery touch. “That strong jaw of yours…” she felt it clench beneath her fingertips and resisted the urge to giggle. They moved lower, caressing his rapidly heating skin.

Her fingers moved over his neck, corded muscles shivering with strain, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Not to forget that neck of yours I have a weakness for…” she couldn’t fight off the grin when she traced his rapid pulse and Tamaki experienced a full body shiver.

She had to give her boyfriend credit, even after three years of being in a relationship, he still sometimes acted as if they were about to experience their first time. But now, his gaze was more focused, startlingly…intense and sharp.

Right at her.

Swallowing thickly, Y/N focused back on her mission. “Did I mention your broad shoulders?” her hands danced over the material of the black bodysuit he still wore from his hero costume, squeezing the iron hard muscles appreciatively. “So strong…” she caught herself, a blush blooming on her face, her hands slowly sliding down his arms, which twitched on her own shoulders still.

They almost had a death grip on her, but not painful, just the nervous, or excited, twitching of his hands. She hummed when her fingers ran over the hard bumps of muscle lining his toned arms, hidden beneath his suit. “Arms that could make any women turn and look twice.” she felt giddy at the nearly panicked look on his face and laughed. “They can look, but none of them can touch like I can.”

That certainly forced a more vocal reaction from him, a strained noise in the back of his throat, a small, short grunt.

His face was burning, throat working overtime and heart beating like a caged hummingbird, the sound of his own blood rushed in his ears that almost drowned out her voice. Almost, but her voice was too sweet to ignore, too entrancing to not fall into its honeyed charm.

Her eyes were knowing, but they turned to look at his torso instead, the definition of hard ridges and bumps outlined by the tight suit shooting heat down her stomach. “The muscles too…” she licked her lips when her fingers greedily ran along the sculpted pecs and abs of her beloved hero, trembling violently beneath her touch.

“Y-Y/N…” his tone was low, strained and if she had given it a second thought, could’ve been a warning.

Her eyes were alight with something mischievous when she spied the reaction she’d gotten from him, her hands running down his firm quivering thighs. “I always liked your legs too, nice and firm.” she flashed a feral smile when her hand dived down and squeezed the firm flesh of his ass, making Tamaki yelp and his face to erupt in a fresh wave of blazing redness. “Mhmm, definitely this too.”

Tamaki’s breath caught in his throat, now impatiently squirming in his spot at being touched that way again after so long. “Y-Y/N, you-you-”

She hummed, her hands moving dangerously close to the bulging tent on his pelvis. “Mhmm, how could I forget…” her hands danced around the area, refusing to touch him yet and Tamaki bit his lips and his hips bucked at the heat her touch sent through his body.

“Y/N….” his voice turned guttural, arms shaking from trying to restrain himself.

Something within him finally snapped when her hand cupped him firmly over the tight material of his bodysuit, his length straining painfully. “Your beautiful thick co-woah!”

Y/N’s eyes flew open when she was suddenly airborne, but giggled when her back met the soft mattress and her highly sensitive, overly worked up boyfriend towered over her with such intense, burning eyes that it made tingles erupt all over her body.

Even when he looked ready to eat her alive he was still patient and considerate to always ask. “Is it ok if-” she answered by pulling his face down to hers and it seemed like Tamaki’s last restraints finally snapped.

Strong arms wound around her immediately, nearly crushing her against his firm chest, erection pressed tightly against her clothed pelvis and the action made her mewl, his cock rubbing over her already leaking cunt.

His kiss was soft before it gained in intensity and her eyes nearly rolled back when he smashed his mouth against hers, stealing her breath and swallowing any moans she had as his hands shakily tried unbuttoning her flannel shirt.

Seeing his hand morph into something not human-like, she narrowed her eyes in warning. “Don’t. You. Dare.” the man above her swallowed, his quirk subsiding before his fingers continued their path down her torso. “You destroyed enough of my clothes that way! Do you know how many panties I-mpfh!”

Her boyfriend’s eagerness seemed to cloud his normal thoughts, he’d have been a cowering mess by now had he not been so turned on by her earlier teasing.

Even if it had been a game to reassure him, to maybe rile him up a bit, she’d meant every single world.

She released a sigh of relief when the first layer of clothes was stripped from both of them, Tamaki’s suit pushed down to his hips, naked skin now in full view to her hungry gaze.

She licked her lips and Tamaki caught the action, leaning back down to kiss her passionately again. Y/N moaned and tugged on his hair, leaning her head back to pant harshly and try to breathe. “T-Tama, you’re-you’re really eager today.” not that she minded, not at all. “Ohhh, dear, yes, just like that Tamaki…mmm…” she moaned when his large hands gently kneaded her breasts, her bra safely discarded onto the floor, thankfully remaining whole.

After the crab claw incident she’d banned him from eating seafood for a whole week.

Fatgum’s suspicious questioning of not eating their daily dose of takoyaki after work was only met by a very red faced stuttering Tamaki.

She squeaked when his fingers lightly pinched her nipple and her face flushed red all the way to her neck at the intense look he leveled her with. “How can I not be, with…with such a b-beautiful girlfriend…” he ran the flat of his tongue around her perked bud, before sucking on it, growling when her fingers tangled into his hair and pulled.

Tamaki tore himself away from her breasts and gave them a gentle, appreciative squeeze, before moving down over her stomach, squeezing the flesh almost possesively.

He suckled on the skin of her hips, leaving behind wet red marks, his fingers quickly worked to remove her pants, his eyes nearly rolling back into his head when her strong musk finally hit him.

Tamaki inhaled deeply, leaning close to her core and Y/N flushed in embarrassment, he didn’t think to-? “T-Tama? W-What are-ahh!” she gasped, body drawn taut and face half buried in the pillow when she felt her boyfriend bury his face against her soaking panties.

The clothing did little to curb his advances, his tongue dipping against the material almost insistently. “Off…” his voice sent shivers down her spine.

“T-Tamaki!” she jumped when he slipped her panties down her legs, discarding them somewhere behind them.

He leaned down and spread her legs, calloused hands roving over them appreciatively with a gentle, caring touch.

Then, he dived in.

Straight for his meal.

A choked cry filled the air and Y/N immediately fisted the bed sheets to keep herself grounded from the way her boyfriend’s tongue plunged into her messy cunt, fingers spreading her folds embarrassingly wide to shove the wet muscle in properly.

Y/N slapped a hand against her mouth, panting harshly into it and trying to tone down her moans. “T-Ta-Tamaaa-k-KI!” her voice squeaked when the tip of his tongue flicked at her clit, making her whole body jump at the sensitive touch.

Her boyfriend did it again, the tips of his ears glowing a bright red, but that didn’t stop him from eating her out like a starved man.

And finally, after her body stopped quaking and shaking violently on the soft mattress, her boyfriend rose from his comfortable perch between her legs, wiping his mouth clean with the back of his hand.

His fingers were still slick from her arousal and she covered her eyes when he licked them absentmindedly, as if forgetting to clean the spoon after eating ice-cream.

“How…h-how was that?” his voice was low, breathless, chest heaving with deep breaths.

She peeked up at him from between her fingers, face still red, but her lips curved into a satisfied smile. “That was great Tama!! I loved it!” she grinned cheekily, until she suddenly felt his hands settle on her thighs.

Her eyes shot to his face faster than the speed of light and she froze at the intense look he leveled her with. “R-Really?” she could see his previously shattered confidence slowly building back up and mentally gave herself a pat on the back.

Until his hands gently spread her legs apart. “Is…is this okay?” blushing to the roots of his hair, Tamaki swallowed thickly, his own arousal throbbing painfully in need.

Y/N wrapped her legs loosely around his hips, further opening herself up to him, her eyes hooded and dark when they leveled him with a look that could bring him to his knees if he hadn’t been already. “More than okay.”

He exhaled shakily, fingers trembling atop her warm skin and Y/N’s hands covered his shaky ones trying to unbuckle his belt. She smiled impishly at him. “Let me sweetie. Why don’t you…lie down?” at the hint of nervousness and doubt that came creeping back onto his face, she leaned in close to his ear, biting the pointed appendage gently. “Suneater.”

Her voice was molten honey and early mornings with laughter and cuddles, it was dripping with want and love.

All for him.

Just for him.

You aren’t the things they say you are.

Tamaki realized Y/N whispered the words herself, eyes focused on his meaningfully. Hands cupping his face affectionately.

The pro-hero fell silent, in awe at his girlfriend’s strength and unrivaled support and belief in him. It filled his chest with pride for being able to love and cherish someone like her and a sense of peace to know she was one wall that would never crumble, even if he himself crumbled.

Overwhelmed with his own feelings, he switched their position faster than she blinked.

His back met the bed and her weight settled on his thighs, hands working to undo his pants and underwear and push them down to free his length.

His gaze was adoring when he looked up at her. “I-I love you Y/N.” she’d only seen the man as confident as he was now on three instances.

When he was fighting villains, talking about his friends…

Or professing his love to her.

Fighting back the sting in her eyes, she leaned down to share a deep kiss with her boyfriend, their hips gently rocking against each-other.

It seemed like an eternity before Tamaki’s hand moved down to gently rub at her clit, causing her to jump and release a high pitched cry. “Oh-oh-oh-oh! T-Tama please!”

It wasn’t that it happened often, it wasn’t that she didn’t love the shy aspect of her boyfriend, but the look he gave her was definitely not that of her innocent shy Tamaki.

It was almost feral.

“Do…you want me Y/N?” she bit her lip, nearly hard enough to break the skin and she whimpered when he ran the tip of his weeping cock along her slick folds. “Where do you want me?”

Her boyfriend did a complete 180, the low guttural voice sending shivers down her spine, the thrill of knowing her good boy Tamaki was buried underneath that positively dominant male under her. “I-Inside Tama.” she would’ve covered her face in embarrassment at his intense look had it not been for her need.

“I-Inside?” his jaw clenched, fragile control already fraying at the seams as he rubbed at her sensitive flesh again. “…Here?”

She gripped his hips, fingers digging into the tough flesh, a groan leaving the depths of her throat. “Y-Yes Tamaki plea-ahh!”

It made her back arch like a bow when she felt her boyfriend’s thick cock stretch her walls, sharp pleasurable tingles shooting from her pelvis all the way up her back and arms.

It was exhilarating.

His harsh pants met her neck, hot breaths of air that made her dizzy with the strong thrusts into her core. She wrapped her arms around her boyfriend to anchor herself, trying to muffle her groans and shrieks into the pillow.

Tamaki leaned forward, lifting her legs up even more towards her torso and pushing deeper, to suckle on her neck. Y/N moaned loudly, nails clawing at his shoulders.

His low grunts and moans filled her ears and fueled her own impending orgasm, legs locking tightly around his trim hips before a particularly hard thrust made her see white behind closed eyes.

Y/N cried out, spasming and seizing up when her release washed over her, her boyfriend slowing his thrusts to near to non-existent bucks of the hips, just bucking between her shaking thighs gently.

Both adults panted, Tamaki still hard within her, the flutters and squeezes around his cock making him close his eyes.

They flew open when a soft hand met his heaving chest and Y/N’s glazed over eyes met his. Tamaki leaned down and captured her lips in a soft kiss, the complete opposite of their intensity before as he softly began rocking his hips back into her when she moved.

Y/N whimpered, still sensitive, but craving and wanting her boyfriend to finish. Tamaki ran his hands down her sides, gently squeezing the flesh of her breasts and cupping her face to kiss her lovingly.

His thrusts were deep and slow, drawing out the heat he felt that simmered just below his navel and her second orgasm.

This one was slow, less animalistic and more quiet. Tamaki’s long drawn out groan drowned out her own soft whimpers and cries of his name.

The couple shared a long kiss, their bodies slowly coming down from their highs.

Tamaki panted heavily, nuzzling into her neck and kissing the forming bruises apologetically, fingers gently gliding over the various bite marks.

Y/N giggled, a hoarse sound, before her hands lovingly stroked his messy hair.

Comfortable silence followed their afterglow, Tamaki gently removing himself to lay beside her and cradle her tenderly to his chest. She giggled, shaking her head at the plethora of emotions she could pull out of her shy boyfriend.

Tamaki’s own hand glided through her hair and down her back, grabbing the blanket to cover them from the cold air creeping over their sweaty skin. “So…are you still feeling inadequate?”

She laughed when she glanced at the bright red ears and cheeks of her boyfriend, who cleared his throat and ducked his head shyly, as if the events prior hadn’t even happened. “N-No…t-thanks to you.” his smile was soft and sweet, melting her heart.

Y/N nuzzled her nose with his, grinning. “You know Tamaki, if you’re ever feeling inadequate again, just tell me!” she winked and the action sent a shiver rushing down his spine. “Oh! I know, what about showing the other heroes how awesome you are if we do it in your office-”

Tamaki’s eyes widened in horror. “Y-Y/N n-not-not in the office!!” her shy boyfriend covered his face in embarrassment at the prospect.

There were Fatgum and Kirishima and all the other heroes. It would bring so much shame! He wouldn’t- he couldn’t-!

Laughter filled his ears and he felt Y/N’s arms wrap around his middle and her lips press a soft kiss to his forehead.

Bonus:

“What’s the matter, Suneater? I’m surprised you’re not in your chicken form from how well I can see those feathers ruffling!” one of the pro heroes shared a laugh with his colleague for the joke.

Tamaki, dressed in full hero costume and dusting himself off after a successful villain apprehension, glanced at them.

You aren’t the things they say you are.

You need to have the heart of a lion, not a kitten!

The pro’s laughed amongst themselves, until a sudden strong gust of wind knocked them off to the ground. “What the-!”

Wings larger than the size of Hawk’s own blocked the sun from sight, deep shadows falling on the pale faces of the two heroes, who looked up at the towering form of Suneater himself.

Tamaki’s wings spanned wide, taking up space for himself, sharp talons cracking the concrete beneath his feet. The black claws seemed larger than one of the pro hero’s hands and both men froze when Suneater spoke in a low tone, his sharp stare piercing right through them.

“Maybe you didn’t catch my hero name,” the two heroes were unable to tear their gaze away from the man glaring down at them, despite the shot of fear rushing down their spines. “But I’m Suneater and you’re in my way.”

#tamaki x reader #tamaki amajiki #tamaki amajiki smut #tamaki smut #bnha tamaki #smut #smut fic #bnha smut #mha smut #tamaki amajiki x reader #amajiki tamaki #aged up characters #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha fic #bnha fic

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dark-ambition · 1 year ago

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“You called me, honey?” Angel Dust casually placing a hand on the wall just above her head, leaning in with a sultry smirk.

Quickly looks to the left.

And then to the right.

"......Um, w-where my girls AND boys at...?"

#it feels better biting down…(angel dust ic)#erthlyheavn

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morningfears · 4 years ago

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This is Now

Rating: PG-13 (partying, drinking, weed a few mentions of anxiety)

Summary: Inspired by Wish You Were Sober by Conan Gray. Set in 2015. Calum has leaned into the party scene just a little too heavily. He’s no longer the boy that you fell in love with and you’re tried of the rollercoaster of emotions.

Word Count: 4.3k

2015

The house at the top of the hill was fully illuminated, windows glowing with multicolored lights disturbed only by the silhouettes of partygoers passing by, and seemed to glow even brighter in contrast to the darkness that surrounded it. You could already feel the bass reverberating through your body the moment your feet touched the ground and it made you bite back a heavy sigh as you shut the car door behind you.

You stared up at the house, one you’d never been to but still caused a dreadful feeling of deja vu to wash over you, with parted lips in a vain attempt to keep yourself from frowning. You could barely hear the sound of the driver’s side door shutting over the noise, even from your parking spot near the street, and you felt a headache beginning to form behind your eyes as you waited for Calum to round the vehicle and grab your hand.

This was routine now, a typical night in your life, but you desperately wished it wasn’t. You could think of a million places that you’d rather be, none of which were located in the Hollywood Hills. The thought of attending another party, while it had all seemed so glamorous and fun at first, now made you feel sick.

“You okay?”

Calum’s voice cut through the mild nausea that churned in the pit of your stomach and you nodded, swallowing back the words that threatened to spill past your lips like bile. “Yeah,” you said, instead of what you truly wanted to say, “I’m good.”

You couldn’t meet his eyes as you lied to him, your words barely audible over the noise. You didn’t even bother to force a smile this time. It wasn’t as if he was really looking at you, anyway.

In the beginning of your relationship, back when this was all so new and date night meant burgers and fries and cheesy movies you didn’t actually watch, he would’ve pressed. He would’ve admitted that he knew you were lying and brought a hand to cup your cheek, palm warm against your skin, to encourage you to look him in the eye. He would’ve asked what was bothering you, what he could do to make it better. He would’ve poked your sides, desperate to get a genuine smile to your lips instead of the frown that had seemingly become permanent. He would’ve been earnest, sweet, loving.

But that was then and this is now.

Now, Calum didn’t press. He didn’t ask if you were sure. He didn’t ask if you wanted to leave the party and go get ice cream. Instead, he nodded, satisfied with your lack of protest, and leaned in with the intent to press a kiss to your lips. Before he could, you turned your head and mumbled, “Cigarette breath,” as his lips pressed to your cheek.

He rolled his eyes, no longer amused by your protests when he smoked, but took your hand in his to guide you up the path to the party that awaited you both.

You sometimes forgot that you’d encouraged it at first. That, once upon a time, this had all been fun. It was novel, exciting, something new.

But that was then.

You were both barely eighteen when you met, only months apart in age, and it was like something out of a daydream. You and Calum were both brand new to life without parents controlling your every move and even newer to life in a city like Los Angeles. You were a college student, looking to get a degree and a job, while he was a budding rockstar, looking to make a name for himself.

You were worlds apart, connected only by your age and your schoolyard crushes on one another, but that hadn’t stopped either of you in the slightest.

Your meeting was by chance, a happy accident that made you think the universe was finally giving you what you wanted - if only just this once - and you’d never actually tell him but you still had the t-shirt he ruined, coffee stains and all, buried in the back of your closet. He had been sweet, sincere and soft as he apologized with red cheeks and rushed words. His eyes had burned into yours, earnest and shining with the promise of a beautiful future, as he ignored his friends, all of whom were laughing at him, to help you clean coffee from your arms.

It was something out of a movie, cheesy and cute, but it had been the start of something beautiful.

Your dates were casual, something your mother would’ve deemed appropriate for your age but your friends teased you for, and you managed to avoid being spotted by fans and the few photographers that knew his name. You went for walks, to movies, bowling, for ice cream whenever he was in town and you weren’t drowning in homework.

It was easy, the kind of first love you’d always hoped you’d have, until things changed.

You didn’t begrudge the boys their success. You, like their friends and families, were firmly in their corner and cheered for them every step of the way. They deserved what they got, what they worked so hard for, and you were there to congratulate them on each win.

You know now that you’d been naive, desperately clinging to the notion that everything would remain the same even as their fanbase and name recognition grew larger and larger. It had been stupid of you to think that there wouldn’t be at least a few changes but you did your best to embrace them, glad that Calum was bringing you along for the ride when he could’ve easily left you in the dust.

The boys weren’t the most social when you first met, content with keeping to themselves in the house that they were renting. They didn’t have friends in LA, unsure if they’d be there long enough or fit in well enough to venture outside their own comfort zone, but that seemed to change faster than anything else as the success became more apparent.

They were, like you had been, unused to being the center of attention. It was strange, finding strangers that wanted to spend time with them - even if you know now that it was only because of what they could offer said strangers - but it happened suddenly. If they weren’t being invited to a dinner, it was to a club, and if not a club, a house party. They were hesitant at first, unsteady in a new environment, but they quickly fell into the new life they were living.

They took to it easily, happily, and, like the other changes before this one, Calum made sure you were by his side for it all.

You enjoyed it all at first. Partying with celebrities - even if they were B-List and desperate for a few paparazzi photos to get a little publicity - was an experience you never thought you’d have. It was thrilling, almost overwhelming, but you enjoyed the excuse to get dressed up on the weekend and spend the night dancing with Calum.

It was an occasional thing, once or twice a month, with plenty of dates interspersed to keep you and Calum happy with the amount of time you actually got to spend together without the interruption of strangers. He still practically lived in your dorm, a fixture so common that none of your hall mates even blinked at his presence, and you still felt a thrill whenever he took you home after a party and kissed you in front seat of his car.

But then the parties grew more frequent and the dates in between them grew fewer and farther between.

At first, you found yourself willing to do whatever was necessary to keep Calum happy. He was stressed, you understood that, and if letting off a little steam at a party helped him wind down, you wouldn’t begrudge him that. But it was as if your sweet boyfriend had disappeared and been replaced by someone you didn’t even know.

You were both only nineteen, on the cusp of adulthood, but he was acting twenty-five and rushing his life away.

He called things you both loved, dates you’d once adored, childish and scoffed at the notion of going bowling or to see a movie. He started smoking, the cigarettes a permanent fixture in the pocket of his ripped jeans, and rolled his eyes when you told him that they’d wreck his voice. He was obsessed with fitting in, with being a part of a life he’d once made fun of, and making stupid decisions that worried you.

You could see through him. You could see that he was still the same insecure, eager nineteen year old that you knew, but he put on a brave face and wore a proud mask as he mingled with the crowd.

You’d spent months begging him to take a few nights away from the party scene, to sober up and go camping with you or to Disney for a weekend. You complained that the parties were shit, that they were nothing compared to the ones you used to go to, and he’d told you to stop complaining or stop accompanying him on nights out.

The harshness of his words, the way he’d refused to even listen to your desire, had you on edge. It had only been a week, seven days since the first real fight you’d ever had, and the ground felt shaky beneath your feet as you followed him into yet another party. You wished, desperately, that he’d end the night early and sober. You wished that he’d take you home and wrap you in his arms, face buried in your neck and hands tracing patterns over your skin as you talked about nothing and everything.

But you knew that that wasn’t going to happen.

Because that was then and this is now.

You felt exhausted, tired of the rollercoaster of emotions he’d put you through in only a matter of months, and refused as a man you didn’t know but Calum seemed to offered you a drink.

“This party’s shit.”

Calum’s words cut through the din surrounding you, his tone annoyed and his shoulders slumped. He’d blown off a different party with the boys for this one and it seemed to be far less exciting than he was promised now that you were actually inside. You agreed with his sentiment but you didn’t want to make matters worse by asking him to leave.

So instead of agreeing, instead of asking him to take you home, you shrugged and took a cursory glance around the room.

Strangers were packed together, bodies moving off beat as the music streamed through speakers scattered around the room. The lights pulsed, even more off beat than the dancers, and the flashing made you nauseous as blue light washed over a sea of seemingly identical faces. The entire house reeked of weed, the scent strong and off-putting, and you fought the urge to cover your nose as you took measured breaths in an attempt to acclimate yourself.

Calum was right; this party was shit.

As was becoming standard routine for the both of you, the fact that the party was substandard and neither of you particularly liked - or really knew - anyone lingering about the room didn’t deter Calum from grabbing a drink and falling into a conversation.

He was attentive, his eyes on the man who’d attempted to hand you a drink, as his arm settled over your shoulders. You felt like a piece of furniture, a fixture for him to rest on rather than a figure for him to pay attention to, and fought the overwhelming urge to throw his arm off of you and climb out the open window in the corner. It wasn’t the most practical option - the front door was right there and stood wide open - but you imagined Calum wouldn’t notice if you slipped out the window.

Though part of you, the more cynical part that had seemingly taken over during the course of the week, wondered if he’d even noticed if you walked straight out the front door. And if he did, would he care?

You knew that you weren’t being fair because, at the end of the day, he wasn’t holding you here. You could leave, walk away from the rollercoaster of emotions he’d put you on. You could walk away from a lot of things in your life, even. You could request an extension from a professor without upsetting the rest of the class. You could skip a class and not delay anyone else’s education.

You were free to do as you pleased, to move as you wished, and you were the only one that would have to face the consequences. Calum, on the other hand, couldn’t. He had the boys to worry about, the fans, his family; anything he did could cause a domino effect and you understood that he was simply looking for something he could control.

But rationality did little to alleviate the nausea churning in the pit of your stomach.

You were afraid that if you stood in the corner, surrounded by the scent of weed and alcohol and too much perfume, you’d say something that you’d regret. You were afraid that you’d start crying or, worse, vomit on Calum’s shoes. So you took a deep breath and nudged Calum’s side. “I’m going to find the bathroom. I’ll be back.”

Calum barely acknowledged your words - and you were grateful this time, glad that he couldn’t hear the wobble in your voice, or, at least, hadn’t seemed to notice. He pressed a quick peck to your temple, his eyes never leaving your companion, before his arm fell from your shoulders to rest at his side.

You left him there, amid the crowd, and ascended the stairs two at a time.

Your breathing was growing shallow, harder to control, as you realized that there were still little things about Calum that remained just as you’d always known them. There were still glimpses of the boy you’d fallen in love with but that was all they were, small fragments of the past that no longer seemed to matter.

Some of the things about him still made your heart race, despite not knowing where you really stood anymore or how you really felt about the person he was becoming. The way that he was still physically affectionate, his arm around your shoulders or waist at any chance he got, and the way that he didn’t mind being in photos together so long as he could half-hide himself behind you and press his face into your neck. He still kissed you goodnight in the front seat of his car, one hand on your thigh and the other on your cheek. He still pressed his lips to your temple or forehead, a soft pressure that bid you goodbye when he didn’t want to say the words.

But part of you wondered if that was because it was comfortable, muscle memory at this point.

Your lungs burned with the effort it took to breathe as you slipped into an empty bedroom and shut the door behind you. You slid down the door and sat there, back pressed against the hardwood, as you willed yourself not to cry. With your knees pressed to your chest, your arms wrapped around them, you reflected on the state of your relationship.

It hurt, thinking that Calum was just going through the motions rather than actively playing a part in your relationship as he once had, but when he spent more of his time with strangers - a cup in one hand and a cigarette between his lips - than he did with you, it was bound to happen.

Sure, you were by his side most nights. You never had to wonder if he was sleeping with someone else or if he was actually out getting wasted - you saw it for yourself, nearly every night - but there was little solace in that. You were like a favorite accessory or a piece of clothing tugged on for comfort, maybe just out of habit. You no longer seemed to play an active role in Calum’s life and you found that you were just as guilty as he was of going through the motions.

Your boyfriend was disappearing before your very eyes and you were just watching him go.

You sat there, back aching as you remained hunched against the door, for far too long. Your eyes remained trained on the hardwood floor beneath you as you thought through everything you hadn’t allowed yourself time to consider. It was hard, reflecting on what had gone wrong and how you’d contributed to it just as much as he had, but it had to be done.

You couldn’t take it anymore, sitting on a rollercoaster of emotions wondering when things would derail or if you’d ever get a chance to get off.

The last thing you wanted to do was leave Calum - you loved him; that much you knew for certain - but you couldn’t seem to find any alternatives. He didn’t seem to be interested in hearing what you had to say, in understanding what you were feeling, or playing an active part in the relationship anymore. He wasn’t ready to move on, to return to some semblance of balance, but you were.

You felt lighter, the weight of the world no longer seemed to be sitting on your shoulders, as you stepped back into reality. A wall of noise hit you as you descended the stairs but you didn’t mind it. You were resolved, steeled to do what needed to be done, and only hoped that Calum wouldn’t wish you ill because of it.

You hoped that one day he’d be able to look back and realize he’d gotten swept away in it all. You hoped that he’d be able to realize that you’d done what you had to. You hoped that he’d live to see that day, at least.

You floated the idea of just leaving, of disappearing without another word and crawling out a window into the night air, but you knew that you couldn’t. He deserved a proper goodbye, even if you didn’t feel strong enough to give it.

You waited at the edge of the living room, your arms folded over your chest, and watched as Calum traded drinks with a girl that neither of you knew. A month ago, you would’ve chastised him. You would’ve told him that he shouldn’t take drinks from strangers but you knew that it would fall on uncaring ears.

So, this time you said nothing. You crossed the living room and settled against his side, holding yourself silent and stead as his arm curled around your waist.

“Get lost?”

His words were slurred, his accent almost impossible to understand, but you’d expected that. You wished he was sober, that he would’ve taken the night off and at least paced himself, but that never seemed to happen anymore. He had a half smile on his lips, looking plenty amused with his on joke, and you bit back a heavy sigh as you shook your head. “There was a line.”

He didn’t question it, didn’t seem to ponder what line would’ve taken hours, and nodded. He was far enough gone to not realize how much time had passed and you were thankful for that as you watched him sway to some awful pop remix that you were sure he’d laughed at in the past. You moved a little closer to him, soaking in the last moments you’d spend with his arms wrapped around you, and waited for the right time to ask him to leave.

Calum, however, beat you to the punch. Before you could even begin to think about phrasing your request, he shoved his keys into your hands. “Wanna take me home?”

You were grateful that even in his altered state, he knew better than to get behind the wheel. You took the keys from him, nodded, and sighed as he pressed a kiss to your cheek before turning his attention to the people you’d spent your night with. It was barely coherent goodnight, the words seeming to get stuck in his throat, but they were far enough gone that nothing seemed amiss. They returned the gesture, even bidding you a goodnight, before their focus returned to the last of the liquor.

Getting Calum into the car was always a challenge. Sometimes, you could count on the guys for help. Even drunk, they seemed to be able to handle dragging Calum to the front seat before settling into the back themselves. Alone, it seemed an impossible task. You were sure that anyone watching would assume you were just as drunk as Calum as you stumbled down the driveway, his arm around your waist and a cigarette in his free hand, but this was just another piece of your nightly routine.

Time seemed to pass in a blur as you drove him home. There was silence, neither of you reached to turn on the radio, and neither of you seemed to notice. Calum chain smoked, one cigarette after another disappearing into the night, and you did your best to breathe only when there was a moment without nicotine swirling through the front seat.

You reached his house far quicker than you thought you would, a little disappointed that this chapter of your life was now so close to being over. You weren’t sure that he’d remember this in the morning, you weren’t sure if you’d have to go through it all again tomorrow when he was hungover and annoyed at the world just for existing, but you hoped it’d be easier the second time.

As you put the car into park, Calum turned his head to face you. He flicked his cigarette out the window and unbuckled his seatbelt before leaning over and brushing his fingers over your cheek. “You look nice tonight. I don’t think I told you that.”

He hadn’t and you’d have been lying if you said his words didn’t make your heart ache.

It was always like this. The drunker he got, the sweeter he got. His words, soft and slurred, reminded you of the boy you fell for and you felt your resolve cracking. It was harder than you imagined, leaving when he was looking at you like you were the one who hung the moon and the stars, but it had to be done.

“I love you.”

It was the first time he’d said the words in weeks, the same three words that made your knees weak and your heart pound dripping like honey past his lips. They were the clearest words he’d spoken in hours, as if he knew they were what you needed to hear, and you offered him a watery smile. “I know.”

He returned it with half-lidded eyes and leaned over the console to press his lips to yours. The kiss was soft, a whisper amidst the raging chaos of your internal dialogue, but it felt like you were burning alive. He touched you as if you were made of glass, fragile and liable to break at any moment, but the damage was done. You knew this wouldn’t last, it was a fleeting moment of the past.

A few months ago, you would’ve told yourself that Calum was still the same boy you fell in love with. But that was then and this is now.

He broke the kiss first to press his forehead to yours. His eyes remained closed, his breathing ragged and his cheeks tinted pink, as yours opened and you committed his face to memory. You wanted to remember him as he was, the good-hearted boy who’d shown you more about love than you ever imagined he would. His smile, his eyes, the way he kissed you; they were the good things, the things that made you wish you could just stop thinking and fall into his arms.

But the scent of cheap beer and cigarettes rolling off him in waves, those were the bad things. They were the things that made you wish he was sober and realize that you needed to leave before it was too late.

“Come on. It’s late, you should get to bed.”

Calum was quiet as you helped him out of the car. He didn’t say a word as you unlocked the door, only stopping you to press another kiss to your lips after you turned the key. “Stay with me,” he whispered, his eyes focused on you as he lingered in the threshold.

“I can’t.”

He was drunk, swaying on his feet, but he knew you well enough to know that you weren’t just talking about spending the night. “This is it?”

“Yeah, Cal. This is it. I’m sorry.”

“I know. Me, too.” He paused, his eyes focused on your face and shining with unshed tears, before he added, “I wish you’d stay.”

You offered him a wry smile, one hand reaching out to brush his cheek. “And I wish you were sober. I’ll see you around, Calum.”

He made no move to reply, his words dying on his lips as he watched you disappear down the sidewalk. You could feel his eyes on your back, his stare burning your skin, until you rounded a corner and felt like you were able to breathe once more. Without the weight of his gaze on your skin, you gripped a lamppost and attempted to catch your breath.

It was over; you’d gotten off the rollercoaster. But you left behind the boy you loved.

Once upon a time, you’d have never left him behind. But that was then.

And this is now.

_____________________________________________

Author’s Note: Hey-o. I haven’t written shit in, like, months. I’ve been so burnt out and depressed and panicky but, well, I’ve wanted to write this since maybe March? So, here you go. I hope you like it. Likes and reblogs and comments make a writer happy. Also very weird to think that Cal and I were 19 in 2015. Fuck, it’s been a long ass 5 years.

#5sos imagine #calum hood imagine #calum hood x reader #5 seconds of summer imagine #calum hood x you #mine

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herpronuonsarefemslash · 3 years ago

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Satisfaction Brought it Back - TEASER

The one where Lena ghosted Kara rather than going villain, Kara went into reporting on human rights abuses in warzones and Lena started a project to take medical information for aliens and their anatomy to help human hospitals.

And then volunteer Subject 99 walks in for a full exam and Lena wonders if she can pretend she's doing anything other than "playing doctor" while learning about Kara's unique body. But her traitor heart just wants to play house. SEE THE REST HERE: https://www.patreon.com/posts/56078508 ===== Alana helps the gray-scaled Jorviunan gentleperson down from the exam table. Five genders on a three-pole gradient, the species file says. Subject 98 uses he/him according to the survey. But it's not right. She's gotten enough peripheral glances of herself in a ballroom's mirror, gritting her teeth and using the identity of least resistance when one of Lillian's friends slid a hand around her back. Lena's been in both the human medicine and xenobiology games long enough to know when a word tastes bad in someone's mouth. Or fangs. Or pincers. Or feelers. Or bioelectrically charged water-filtering membranes. Subject 73 was a Vyllnat who rolled in the other day who looked like she belonged on a Wikipedia article about the Dykes on Bikes movement with the zinger being that her partner was checking in for the session in the next bay during the same time slot. Mating for them involves snuggling close and sharing body heat until their physiologies sync up enough to allow genetic material to simply seep through softened skin. What Lena thought was a rather plain leather riding jacket was, in fact, skin that just looked like supple black leather. Membranous flaps that adults use to seal each other's bodies in an airtight embrace during one of these sessions. A mutually embarrassing moment involving Lena stumbling and nearly wiping out with a tray of sharps and some accidentally-spit acid revealed the tight jeans were really fifteen feet of muscular tail as thick as Lena's waist trailing behind 73 in a holographic concealment field. Lena even weaseled her into letting her take 3D scans of all five sets of interlocking fangs and slicing teeth and a venom sample.

Late that night, Lena might have put a few minutes of Clash of the Titans on loop while she got herself off. Sue her. The idea of reproduction by snuggling is even gayer than a race of medusa-ish beings who come in three flavors of what could only really be called female in a human framework.

"Next subject?" Lena asks, looking up at Alana who is tapping some commands to the repurposed attack drone of Lex's they use to burn any biohazards off the equipment.

"iPad," Alana replies, her eyes sparkling a bit too much as she directs three streams of particle-dissolving energy. Lena sometimes gets a distinct whiff of Kate McKinnon's character in Ghostbusters, except that not only is Alana weird and unapologetic and intense, she's also a first-generation immigrant. She tears through American pop culture like Kara tears through potstickers, so Lena's never 100% sure if Alana's showing up in an outfit that looks like business-safe cosplay on purpose or not. Some city in Nigeria is missing their resident mad genius, to National City's benefit. ===== "Uh, hi."

Rude, is all Lena can think at first. She had heard through the 'DEO to Alex to Kelly to the group texts of doctors who deal with aliens' pipeline that Supergirl had gone from on-patrol to emergency use only around the time that blogs gushed about one of CatCo's human passing journalists coming out as alien and then leaving the company. She was trying very hard not to stalk Kara's Instagram at the time so she didn't follow up. Something something independent reporter in the field somewhere somewhere bringing attention to the plight of someone someone.

Lena only avoided full-on alcoholism over the last year by screening out all reminders of Kara's existence, which let her pretend. Which didn't make it hurt any less when Jess came into her office a few months ago and said that Kara Danvers had come by to ask if Lena had gotten a new cell phone. Kara's first thought wasn't Lena being a cruel, overdramatic mess of gay thirst and Luthor trauma. She trusted Lena's good nature, so her first thought was clerical error.

Kara seems to have taken being ghosted in stride because she spent the last six months getting somehow even hotter than she already was, which probably violates some United Nations Convention on placing dangerous pressure on the human body or something.

Her hair is the same length, but it's tied in a hasty ponytail that's tied off with a scrunchy made of honest-to-god paracord the same crimson as her cape. She's let the curl come back in--how did she straighten it, anyway?--so it doesn't look like Supergirl's sheets of gold more suited for a damsel in diaphanous silk than the halo of an avenging angel. What it evokes is a stallion's mane, glossy in the harsh light and waving as the beast moves.

The dresses that never suited her are gone, and the button ups are back but now they're a thick flannel or something worn half-unbuttoned over a burgundy tee shirt that clings tight and reveals the corners of the suit's breastplate underneath. She could trace the glyph through it, which means if Lena could only get her out of the damn suit, it would revea--FOCUS, she reminds herself--and rather than CatCo-required chinos Kara is in black denim that hangs loose at rest but molds to her muscles when she walks over to put her coat across the 'patient clothing' rack. Each flex and tense tells Lena way too much about how powerful her thighs are and also not nearly enough about what it would feel to have the--FOCUS, Lena--and Jesus take the wheel Kara's even wearing combat boots covered in a fresh coat of pale dust that could just as easily be from a hiking trail north of town or a warzone in Somalia.

"It's funny. On the plane, back from Kasnia? I almost told you."

When she couldn't stop fidgeting with her glasses. Her hair was a mess when she escaped from the Eve clones. She had her glasses off and her hair down and she was going to show me... Lena realizes.

She makes a sound she doesn't even recognize and suddenly she's in Kara's arms, her knees sting from hitting the floor before Kara knelt with her. She's slapping ineffectively against the protective firmness around her and watching her own tears fall like it's happening to someone else.

Kara shushes her and rocks her back and forth and doesn't ask before kissing her forehead. Lena doubts she thought about it consciously. Maybe when she is released, she can complain about lack of consent or maybe she'll demand another kiss to make it all better.

=====

"Lena, I really can't do this. Not like this, not with you."

Reality slams down around Lena like the doors in a haunted house closing.

"Of course. I can schedule you with Alana or per-"

Kara molds her hands to Lena's hipbones and pulls her into her arms. She takes her with force, cupping Lena's head and holding her fast. She nips at Lena's lip and uses the moan as a chance to lick into Lena's mouth. Hot and wet and impatient, her tongue seasoned with ginger and orange and grease, cut with the waiting room mints. She kisses like she eats, greedily and curiously and bottomless. Kara hums and holds and presses and licks and nips and sucks. She brings one hand up to Lena's neck and curls around her pulse, rubbing her thumb along Lena's windpipe. She doesn't seem to notice or care that Lena can't do this forever because Kara wants to do this forever and fuck human failings like a need for oxygen. Lena has to bite her tongue to get her to retreat. It would've drawn blood on a human but Kara just moans and pulls back.

"Christ, Kara."

Kara licks her lips lazily. The chilly blue that reminds Lena of ice caps and winter skies is darkened and her pupils are swollen and fucking hell Lena can even see little white crackles in the depths of them, rising towards the surface like caged lightning.

#supercorp #soft butch #kara danvers #lena luthor #alien fun bits #supergirl

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everafterkeiji · 4 years ago

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Song: About the Boy by Little Mix

Summary: Wherein a red head manages you to act like a fool in love

Pairing: Eijiro Kirishima x fem! reader

Warning/Genre: CRACKTIVITIY AND FLUFF

Word count: 5.4k

Quirk: Enchantment / Magic

Abilities : Flight, can cast spells, your emotions help you increase the amount of energy you blast, when you use your quirk your eye color changes to your favorite color (Y/F/C)

Symbols: Bold+Italic = lyrics , Italic= memories/text/thoughts

A/N: PLEASE this song is a bop and it just goes so well so pls listen to it!!❤️

You were just walking, a coffee in your hand with earbuds in blocking out the noise of the streets. You were on your way to your dream school, UA, while mindlessly scrolling through your phone thinking that you could reach your school earlier than you expected. You were nervous to say the least to meet the people that literally brought down the bots like it was nothing. Even if you aced the test, it was still intimidating to be in the same room with such powerful people. Do they even recognize me? Fuck I can't hold a conversation on my own. You thought. You took in a sip of your coffee in hopes that it can calm down your nerves.

Yet the universe regards your wishes when a body hard as a rock came in contact with yours. With one hand holding on to your hair and the other on your waist protecting your fall as you screamed in surprise when you both land on the street with a thud. The hardness of what you felt softens when you see bright red hair in your vision. The stranger- actually very handsome stranger that was on top of you looks at you with red wide eyes.

Did I die and heaven gifted me my dream boyfriend?

"Miss? Miss? Oh my god- I'm sorry for being in this position- I mean- Some guys weren't looking and their car was heading your way and you couldn't hear me so I had to save you- Are you okay?" He says panting, you take in the view in front of you as he helps you stand up brushing off the dust in your clothes, you silently thanked yourself for not dressing into your uniform knowing you can change into it with a spell. You were holding his hand. At the sight of it you immediately blush, ignoring the giddy feeling in your chest.

Man is he cute. You thought.

"Can you hear me?" You nod but you were loosing your cool when your shirt was drenched in coffee. You also frowned at the sight of your now broken earphones laid out on the street. You thanked the heavens that you had iced coffee. His eyes turn to your outfit, biting his lip in regret wishing he could've pushed away the coffee before ruining your outfit.

"I'm so sorry about your shirt! I can buy you another one-"

"T-thank you." You managed to say while he gives you a shy smile with a hand to his neck.

"It's nothing! Heroes should always save people shouldn't they?" You smile at his words.

He actually saved me.

You couldn't help but compare the events to some fairytale when a dashing young man saves you-that part alone was true but your imagination stops when you check the time on your phone.

"H-holy shit I'm gonna be late! I'm so sorry, I have to go! Thank you!" Your eyes glowed as you flew, not looking back to the red heads reaction to your sudden action. To say he was surprised was an understatement. You, in mid air, recites a spell to teleport your way into school. You landed in front of the gates of UA as you quickly utter a spell to freshen your appearance as you enter. When you arrive at front of the classroom, your hand couldn't reach the knob with how it was shaking yet you took a deep breath opening it to see people chattering away.

You decided to take a seat at the left row when a sudden red head comes running in the room.

"Hey! I'm so sorry I'm a bit late something came up and-" his eyes lock with yours and you teleport in front of him and he jumps a bit when you appear, the class looking at you two curiously. They were taken aback by your quirk.

"It's you."

From then on you swore on your life to avoid the red head but seeing his warm smile, his kind eyes, his charm, how can you do such a thing? As far as the class knows, you are by far the most powerful one knowing you can do anything just by a spell, basically everything you wished for can be handed to you in a silver platter. However, how can one Kirishima Eijiro make you weak to your knees? Was it his physique? His personality? His kindness? You couldn't pick your poison on what exactly drawn you the red eyed teen.

Something about the boy

Trying to find a logical reason on what makes this man so interesting to you was the most troublesome thing to do. Why is that when he talks to you every function in your body stops? Whenever you open your mouth you tend to loose track of what you wanted to say and end up mix matching your words.

It's the verse in my head

The words that make me stutter

Ever since you met him, it was like his presence took away your ability to speak. Nothing has ever drawn you to such a being before but acting weak in front of him wasn't something you wanted to do. You're basically a witch, seeing you fly the first time you met him he already knew he was curious about you too. You were already outstanding in his eyes, what else can you possibly do? Shapeshift? Make him fly? All you can do was try to avoid him like the plague so your heart can contain itself from letting him have it yet even with a smile on his charming face, it already makes your surroundings filled with such vibrant colors.

The change from gray to color

You often use your flight to catch up with him sometimes, knowing he was always intrigued with how easy it was for you to float around like that. Sometimes you use your quirk whenever he drops something, that's when you raise a finger while the fallen objects simply follow your finger as you placed them back on his hands. No matter how much you used your magic in front of him it never fails to make him stare in fascination.

Even his little buddies were interested in you, Mina always making you do tricks in the air while Kaminari begs you to lay a spell on Bakugo. Which of course you granted Minas request instead of Kaminaris knowing how powerful and pissed off Bakugo can be, it can possibly lead to your grave. But of course, whenever Kirishima had a favor you were bound to do it in a heartbeat. He once requested to teleport with you finding it so convenient and absolutely captivating how you can just pop up in different places.

"Do you trust me?" You asks helding out a hand in front of him, he nods happily while you utter a spell setting you're destination to be outside of UA. His hand tightens around yours and you smile while you zap out of the classroom seeing flashes of light before landing just in front of the gates of UA with a swoop sound. Kirishima raises his fists to the air with adrenaline filling his body.

"That was so cool, Y/N! Man, your quirk is literally something else. How can you do that so easily?-" His next words became a blur to you when you just stand there admiring him. With a smile to your face, you just nod at his words not even bothering to listen. You were sure he was rambling on and on about your abilities and once again your heart speeds up taking in his compliments.

A guaranteed bet

Oh, I found my lucky number

Even when you found yourself bruised and exhausted, the worried red head would always check up on you after training. At times when you felt like you weren't giving your best at your battles, he would manage to change your perspective on yourself making you push your limit. Which causes you to overuse your power making you unconscious in the middle of the fight while Kirishima and the others crowd around you, bringing your drained body to Recovery Girl. He would be right there along with Kaminari once you've regained strength.

The feeling that you get

Can't help but make me wonder

You will do the exact same thing to him. Bakugo will test out his powermoves on Kirishima and Kirishima will take it like the man he is but Bakugo ends up overworking the boy leaving burns on his skin. Watching him fight was something so intriguing to you. He knows he isn't good with long distance fights yet you offer him with your kind words edging him to do better. You would wrap bandages on his arm whenever they were ugly with scratches and burns or cast a spell to supply with him food and beverages when he missed lunch.

No need to try

He's just right

Oblivious to your actions, you continued to show how much you care for your little angel, earning teases from Bakugo and Sero yet you disregarded their comments and kept casting spells just to see his winning smile fall upon his face and that alone completes your day. You've gone to malls together, Kaminari, Mina, Sero, and Bakugo tagging along. Even if you intended to be with him only.

"Hey Kiri?" You asked tapping his shoulder gently while you flew above him leaning downwards to reach his shoulder. He turns around with a smile in his eyes when he sees you above him, you were in a sweater and leggings so whenever you flew above anyone, no one could dare to land their eyes under your shirt or your skirt, which everyone respectfully turns away -but Mineta? He was obviously the reason why you were conscious on your outfits.

"Hey Y/N! What's up?" He asks while you circle around him before you floated just in front of him with your cheeks pink from gaining the courage to ask him out.

"I was wondering if we can hang out at the mall if you're um available or if you want to- it's okay if you say no though-" he cuts you off with a chuckle before you landed on your feet, lowering your head thinking it was the best way to hide your flustered state.

"I'd love to Y/N! I'm down for anything plus I think there's a new movie out so I'm excited to watch it with you guys!" He says excitedly and you sighed thankful that he didn't reject you but you tensed up when you felt an arm wrapped around your shoulder. You turned your head to see a smirking Kaminari with his eyes on you as you rolled your eyes while he pulls you closer.

"A NEW MOVIE? I'M DOWN! What about you guys?" Suddenly Mina and Sero pop up behind Kirishima as you nudge Kaminari with you elbow, glaring at him while he laughs at you.

"Ooh we're going to the mall? I'm coming with~" Mina says clapping her hands while Sero chuckles beside her saying he wanted to come as well.

"Bakugo?" You only hear a grunt from him then you lower your head while Kaminari laughs at you. You raised your head shooting daggers his way and his eyes widened making him remove his arm around your shoulder before hiding behind Kirishima, scared you were gonna lay a death spell on him.

Nonetheless, you enjoyed their company even if it didn't go as well as you planned. When you were caught staring at Kirishima, Bakugo rolls his eyes before grabbing you to the corner pulling you away from the rest.

"Oi, look at me." He says and you look up at him, thrills running down your spine knowing you were never this close to Bakugo before. Soon, you were questioning how you were even alive at this point.

"W-what is it Bakugo?" You asked shakily yet he smirks at you.

"You got the heart eyes for shitty hair, dumbass?" Your eyes widen before you look away and he teasingly chuckles at your dismay.

"Ah, shitty hair huh? You might wanna lessen that stare of yours. Everyone knows you shit head." You cover your face in your hands and Bakugo chuckles again at your state. You stare at him- well it came more as a glare when you tried to appear stronger to the explosive boy.

"D-do they? Look, as much as I like him, I really couldn't care less if he doesn't notice."

He's got that something

I can't let nobody tell me no

"You wanna mutter a love spell on him, cupid?" Bakugo teases laughing at you. Your eyes glowed before making him turn to you with his eyes rolling. He covers your mouth before you can even cast a spell on him. His smirk resurfaces on his face.

"So you're willing to die so you can cast a spell on me huh extra?" You roll your eyes at him before removing his hand on your mouth.

"I'm not making him fall in love with me, stupid. I can't and I won't. Its against the use of my quirk."

Even if you were able to cast spells, you weren't allowed to cast a spell to make someone fall in love with you or for someone to die upon your spell not because of some forbidden chant, but it was because you couldn't handle the pressure and power of it. Casting death upon someone was not something to take ever so lightly. You were well taught enough to know the spells needed for death but your emotions and morals won't allow you. The amount of energy for you to even obtain to cast a spell that strong will certainly make you pass out not to mention to enormous guilt that will weigh on your shoulders once you do so.

"Y/N?" A voice appears beside you and Bakugo. You both turn around to see Kirishima with curious eyes. The sight in front of him suddenly marking a memory in his mind seeing you so close to Bakugo, especially when Bakugo had a prominent smirk on his face while he was staring at you. He only broke the conversation when he felt a tug on his heart seeing you two.

Bakugo leaves you two alone with yet another smirk tugging on his lips.

"No wonder that dumbass likes her." He mutters under his breath.

You believed that even without a love spell, there was no way you weren't going to succeed. Even if you had to cast a dozen spells just to make him smile, just to see his eyes lit up whenever you show him magic, just to see him be happy because of you, it was all worth it. But how far can your patience reach when he's gone busy with internships?

You knew that him, Midoriya, and the others were quite busy because of their internship and the more days pass by you, the less you see Kirishima. You were stuck in class paying attention to whoever was up front, or just fighting with Kaminari to test out some new spells you learned. Sometimes, you would choose to hang out with Bakugo and Sero just to avoid your thoughts whenever you worried about him.

Yet on the other side of the field, he misses you as well.

He misses to be able to feel your presence around him, he misses to see how powerful you were, he misses your little gestures or gifts that you bring to him. Though, in the back of his mind, he can't help but think of you and Bakugo. Seeing you two so close at the mall, made him feel small all of a sudden. What were they talking about? Why was he smirking like that? Are they secretly dating? His mind was filled with questions but then again he thinks that Bakugo wasn't a dating person. He was conflicted if he should just ask you directly or just observe on the sidelines.

Bakugos words were ringing in your head about a love spell. You've never casted a love spell. Yet alone even find a spell to do it since you feel guilty meddling with a person's emotion towards someone. Now that Kirishima had his hands busy, there's no harm done if the person you badly wanted to cast it upon wasn't here. You just wanted to try since a love spell was much easier to conjure than a death spell. All you had to was utter the designed chant but you were questioning if it even works without the potions or herbs. You were indeed a powerul being so you did skip ahead on the steps.

Having a heavy book on your hand was laid out in your bed just switching back and forth between pages. Your fingers drag across the surface of the paper reading the chant in your head. You sighed, this isn't gonna work. This chant is literally older than All Might. You thought. As your fingers brush against the rough surface, your eyes landed on a love spell that required no potion or exchange. It was said to be a spell that enhances the attraction but some pages were torn off making the sentences confusing, yet the chant was still there.

Meanwhile, an excited yet nervous boy was on his way to your room. Kirishima finally had the time to be with you and he was more than anxious to face you knowing the tightening in his chest was making his mind race at the thought of finally seeing you. Though the thought of seeing you with Bakugo, had the poor boy rethinking his actions.

The chant only had one requirement, and that was nothing more than your emotions. If your emotions portray what you desire, the chant was sure to work on whoever your target was. You felt that without Kirishima around your emotions weren't as deep than you thought, putting you at ease. You sigh as you brace yourself for a chant, taking in a deep breath. Your hands placed on top of the spell with your eyes glowing before closing them as an aura surrounded you.

"Fall upon me and obey with bliss, as he whose heart shall belong to me, with the name that lie on my lips, to love and intertwine his heart to me, you are mine to be-"

"Y/N?"

"KIRISHIMA?!" Your eyes widen as great winds surround the two of you before the once crimson red eyes of the teen stood in front of you glowed pink as the wind surrounds him. It happened so rapidly that you were off your feet flying towards the teen that lay unconscious on your room, shaking him with worry.

"Kirishima?! Hey, hey wake up!" You shout shaking him up and Bakugo walks by your room to see his unconscious friend flat out on the floor. His vermillion eyes widen as he takes Kirishima.

"OI SHIT HEAD WHAT'D YOU DO?" Bakugo shouts and you shake your head as the blonde helps Kirishima stand up, his arm on Kirishimas shoulder being a wall for him to lean on.

"I d-don't know! Come with me." You grabbed Bakugos shoulder as you utter a spell teleporting you to Recovery Girl. Bakugo was surprised at how fast you landed but he only laid down Kirishima before grabbing your arm harshly pulling you outside her room.

"Mind telling me why the shit head is passed out on your room?" You fidget with your fingers, your heart racing. Did it work? It was an accident! Why didn't I lock my fucking door? Why was he here anyway? Your mind hurting from the power that you released, and it was most definitely hurting because of the worry.

"Fuck Bakugo I don't even know! I was just practicing a s-spell okay! And Kirishima just came in okay and the spell was directed to him-" You were cut off when Bakugo when raised you by grabbing you by the collar of your shirt, making you float so you don't loose balance at how he easily lifted you off your ground before you flew.

"It's the love spell isn't it?" You gulped as he stares at you, bringing your face closer to his before you give him a silent nod lowering your head, then your feet reaches the surface now that he sets you down.

"Ain't that desperate huh extra?" He smirks but you punch his chest, catching him off guard.

"Oi shit head what'd you-"

"IT WAS AN ACCIDENT OKAY! I'm not fucking desperate for Kirishima to acknowledge me or like me back, Katsuki. He just came in my room, I didn't even know he was coming back!" You shout back but he only shake his head.

"Dumbass you don't need a fucking spell-"

"Y/N? He's looking for you." Recovery Girl comes behind you two and you jump at her voice.

"I- thank you ma'am." She nods at you but before you can open the door Bakugo stops you midway.

"Oi, don't you think that stupid spell of yours have a shitty side effect? Who knows what shitty hair will act like." He scoffs and you sigh, running your hand to your hair.

"So what? I can't talk to him?" He flicks your forehead with his fingers and you hit his shoulder while he smirks.

"Ah it's a love spell isn't it? Isn't he gonna act all clingy and shit?" You shrug your shoulders and Bakugo grabs your head shaking it lightly while you slap his hand away.

"And they say that you're the smart one." You roll your eyes at his comment before opening the door nonetheless. You were face to face with a sat up Kirishima with a hand to his head.

"K-kirishima?" Bakugo almost wanted to laugh at your stutter but you nudge him with your elbow earning an annoyed groan from the blonde.

"How are you feeling shit head?" Bakugo asks and Kirishima just eyes you two but once his eyes leave the blonde, Kirishimas eyes linger on you more.

"I don't know what happened, my head just really hurts but Recovery Girl says nothings broken so I'm fine! What's got you guys so worried?" He asks with curious eyes and you both shake your head.

"I'm just glad you're doing okay, Kiri. Are you sure you're not feeling anything weird?" You ask, your heart pounding. Kirishima shakes his head and looks at you.

"Nah, I feel okay! I guess I was just exhausted and passed out. I'm fine, Y/N, I swear. What about you? I haven't seen you in days." He gives out a small chuckle and you sigh in relief.

It didn't work, you and Bakugo thought.

"I'm fine, Kirishima." You smile at him and returns the gesture back at you, yet the guilt was now weighing over your shoulders knowing you casted a spell on him. Kirishima took notice of you had your head hung low and you were playing with the ends of your skirt. His hand reaches your hair, gently caressing your hair and while your wide eyes and flustered cheeks were hidden from him, it was no denying that you were shaking.

I've got it bad. Kirishima thought.

You look up at him while his hands were still caressing your hair. You were searching for traces of the spell on his eyes but you found nothing but the glimmer in his eyes when he stares back at you.

"I'm glad I get to hang out with you again, Y/N." He says and you just simply wanted to faint at his kind words and you hear a very displeased scoff behind you.

You and Bakugo just observe Kirishima for the rest of the week. You two would sometimes discuss if you accidentally conjured it onto someone else that was named Kirishima but you think otherwise. You even asked your parents but they said love spells were always a hit or miss. You even thought about asking help from Midoriya, which you knew he would accept, but this issue was between you three. Kirishima was just being his usual self, nothings changed. Everything was the same as before but for Kirishima, his feelings were weighing down his heart. The more he saw you and Bakugo have your little conversations in a corner, he already knew his chances were slim to none but he still wanted to be with you with every chance he gets. Thankfully, Kaminari delivered the news that you two weren't dating when he saw Bakugo hit you in the head.

I won't stop until the girl is mine. Kirishima selfishly thought. Finally realizing he wasn't gonna waste his time anymore. He knew it was selfish, but were your little gifts and tricks to him could mean you liked him too?

Months of being with you, admiring you from afar, denying the feeling in his heart whenever you flew around him grabbing his attention, the care you give him when he's injured, it was all to overwhelming to finally come to a decision that he is in fact, in love. Maybe the spell didn't work and he's come to the light or perhaps the spell actually worked and it increased his attraction towards to you. But the way his breathing came to a halt whenever you were in the air fighting against his classmates, or whenever he feels this warm feeling in his heart whenever you laugh or check up on him, he knew he felt something else.

For you and Bakugo, he was just being his usual hero self. Helping you here and there and following you wherever you went making excuses just to be around you. It looks as if the roles were reversed now. You were once the love sick puppy following him around but now your cautious and almost distant still afraid of the spell. Now it was Kirishima that was falling under your spell. Volunteering to help you with training or even carrying your things. Bakugo took notice of his actions but didn't pay any attention to it knowing Kirishima already told him his little crush for the magical girl.

Got me running around like I'm a lovefool

Taking me down I can't stop

But the guilt was unbearable on your side.

You knew even if the chant was a fail, you still directed it to him. Who knew what side effects could have been given to him? What if you never revert the spell? Is his soul tied to yours? While the guilt was eating you away, you're fingers hover over his contact texting him finding no more excuses to hide what you've done.

hey kiri! do you think you could meet up with me at the mall?

In which he responded to rather quickly.

heyy! yea sure be right there in 15 mins!

He got me feeling like a girl gone mad. You thought while you patiently waited for the boy. Meanwhile, Kirishima had his feet on the ground ready to be with you but his nerves quickly shut down wondering what's gotten you to meet up with him so sudden. When you spot his figure, you signal him a wave and he sits next to you with a warm smile.

"Hey Y/N! You good?" You bit your lip, anxious to tell him the issue you've had for weeks. He frowns at your state and takes a step forward landing his hand on your shoulder, giving you sympathetic smile.

"You can tell me anything, Y/N. It's just me." He says the concern in his voice evident. You take a deep breath before finally speaking.

"Kirishima, I'm so sorry for casting a l-l.. l-love spell on you. It was accidental though! I wouldn't think about putting a spell on you! Y-you just came in so suddenly and I lost control over my power- I didn't know if it worked though but-"

"Wait wait.. a love spell?" He tilts his head in confusion and you lower your head still trying to relieve the stress.

"It didn't work though! You're not showing any signs of love or anything.. right?" His eyes widen and his cheeks blossomed with the color the same as his hair. He lets his hand reach the back of his neck before staring at you, his heart pounding at how anxious he was.

"I- I don't think you need a love spell for me to like you cause I already do." You've never whipped your head much faster than now. You look at him, searching once again for any traces of the spell yet nothing. Nothing but genuine feelings.

He liked you.

You.

"A-are you sure? I'm assuming it's because of the spell huh? I promise I'll try to revert the spell-"

"No amount of spell can make like you the way I do. Even if the spell was accidental, I don't think it was accidental for me to fall for you." Did you past away? What sweet heaven was this? Taking notice of how tensed and quiet you were, Kirishima sighs before looking at you.

"If you're with Bakugo, I completely understand. If you don't like me-"

You stopped his sentence when your hands found its way around his neck and your lips finding its home with his lips. He had his eyes open but once he registers what's happening he immediately pulls you closer, hands to your waist like how you first met, his eyes closing at the sensation of your lips in sync. Everything around you was a blur except for feeling of having him this close to you. You were too overwhelmed and contented with what was happening, you let loose of your quirk. You two were floating and he seems to smile even more as he continues to lay his love on your lips. You pull away resting your forehead on his with a smile that no one can ever tear down.

"God, Kirishima I- I like you so much. Just from the moment we met and no spell can ever change that." You say before you two landed on the ground and your hearts were screaming for joy at this point. Kirishima chuckles in front of you before he pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear making you blush even more.

"Guess I can say I'm under your spell then huh?"

"Oh god."

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