#it's really not good — very incoherent and stiff

[kopivie]

i'm... writing. i'm writing!

[tojisrealwifey]

Just One Chance

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Synopsis: Senju makes a promise to wait for [name] before [name] moves. She's back after 10 years but loving Senju seemed to have backfired on her. Now, as she wallows in self-pity she is reunited with her ex, Mikey.

note: this is an alternate ending for my senju fic. you don't need to know the story but if you're interested you can find it here.

・❥・requests : rules

WARNINGS: MDNI, 18+, Smut, Oral Sex (f.receiving), Fingering, Squirting, Masturbation, Slight Somnophillia, Dacryphilia, Slightly OOC Mikey, Cringe Arguments, Manipulative Reader [she is very selfish], Non-Canon Couples, Drinking, Mentions Of A Foursome.

・❥・wc: 7.8k

・❥・masterlist

"Hey, [name]!" Hearing a faint shout from behind her, she turns around whilst taking off her earphones. She is met by Takeomi and a woman who were making their way through the airport crowd.

She also starts to walk towards them, her black suitcase dragging behind her. 

As soon as she was an arm's distance from them, Takeomi pulled her into a hug. Despite cringing slightly, [name] couldn't stop her lips from perking up into a soft smile. 

"How are ya, [name]?" Takeomi asks her, pulling away. She replies with a faint 'good' before Takeomi is pushed away by the woman who was beside him.

"Hello [name]-chan, it's so nice to meet you." The red-head woman offers a handshake which [name] accepts. 

"Hello, Rika-san, and likewise. Again, I'm really sorry for not attending the wedding, I had crucial exams that week." [name] replies, maintaining her professional tone.

"Awhh, that's no problem honey, also relax, you sound so stiff!" Rika chuckles. 

"I don't- this is how I talk." [name] says, tilting her head slightly. 

"Damn, I'm still not used to you talking so politely, architecture uni really killed your attitude, didn't it?" Takeomi laughs out.

"Or maybe it's cause I'm no longer 17." [name] rolls her eyes. 

"I definitely spoke too soon, the attitude is still there! Anyways, give me your luggage so we can leave already, I hate airports." Takeomi shudders and takes the suitcase from her.

"Honestly, you and your dislike for airports." Rika scolds jokingly but nonetheless follows her husband.

The ride home was quite enjoyable in [name]'s opinion. Rika and she kept chatting away, especially the former, but she did get questions about her job thrown at her which she answered happily. 

[name] had worked extremely hard to get into this profession so, of course, she'll speak proudly of it.

After some time, they finally reached home. When Takeomi was pulling up the car, she noticed her brother, Wakasa, walking out the front door. 

As the car halts, she immediately jumps out and goes to hug her brother, and he does so without any complaints. 

"I missed you..." He smiles into the embrace. 

"Obviously not enough to come pick me up." [name] rolls her eyes playfully. He grunts at her comment but smiles when he notices that she has started to become comfortable showing more emotions.

"Okay, come on, let's go inside. Freshen up, I'll prepare some food."

It had been a day since she arrived back in Japan, 24 hours yet she still hadn't seen the person she longed for the most. 

Right now she sat at the dining table across from Takeomi and his wife, as Wakasa cooked dinner.

She was wearing a pair of comfortable shorts but was wearing a white formal dress shirt since she had just gotten off an online meeting a few minutes ago.

Not being able to contain her thoughts of the pink-haired girl, she confronts Takeomi about it.

"Takeomi-nii, where's Senju?" [name] finally let the question spill. Takeomi freezes. She also didn't miss how Wakasa momentarily paused his cooking. 

"What..?" she asks hesitantly, her mind filled with awful thoughts.

"[name], Senju...she uh.." Takeomi lets out some incoherent babble not knowing what to say. 

"Nii-san?" she turns to her brother this time who also froze up, not giving a proper explanation.

[name] immediately stands up and runs out ignoring her brother's calls from behind her. The cold air hit bare legs. 

She doesn't pay mind to her shorts that keep riding up with every speeding step. She took in heavy breaths but didn't stop till she reached Senju's apartment building. 

Finally halting, takes a moment to recover her breath. Entering the building she first checks the nameplates. 

If [name] remembered correctly, the Akashis' flat was 703. And she was correct, except that instead of Takeomi's name, the apartment seemed to be owned by Akashi Senju.

PING!

She heard the elevator open from behind her. She turns to see a few people emptying out of the elevator, when it is finally clear of people she enters the elevator. 

Pressing the 7th floor she secretly admires the interior of the elevator. She couldn't believe how much this building had changed over 10 years.

The elevator door opens up as it reaches the 7th floor and instantly walks out of it. Walking along the corridors she searched for the door with the number '703'.

Her eyes finally catch the said number and her feet move her towards it. Her vision slightly darkened due to her nervousness but still found the strength to ring the doorbell.

Immediately, she hears a few shuffles as a few footsteps grew closer to the door.

The door swung open as [name]'s face brightened at the thought of finally seeing Senju again.

Except, it wasn't.

Instead of seeing Senju's light pink hair, she was greeted by light brown hair. 

"Yes..?" The shorter woman in front of her spoke. 

"Oh-um...is Senju here?" [name] asks in a faint whisper, suddenly losing her voice, her head instinctively lowers to face her feet.

"[name]?" The other questions in a shocked tone. [name] snaps her head back up, taking a moment to realize who she is speaking to.

"Yuzuha?" She questions, her heart beginning to pound. 

"Ugh, who is it love?" [name] hears a familiar voice, noticing how it had grown slightly mature. 

The girl that she loved walked into the frame, her eyes widening at the sight of [name]. 

Senju sucked in a breath, shock embedded on her face as she stared at [name] with guilt in her eyes.

"Um, [name] please come in..." Yuzuha moves out of the way. [name] mindlessly agrees, taking off her shoes and walking in. 

She was so stunned she failed to notice her actions.

"You both should talk, I'll be inside if you need me." Yuzaha gives a sad smile and walks further into the apartment.

Their lips were sealed shut, both were unable to start the conversation, that was until [name] noticed a shiny rock on Senju's ring finger.

"You're married?" [name] asks. Following her gaze, Senju lifts her hand and fidgets with the ring.

"No, just engaged." Senju replies with a quiet voice.

"Since when?"

"Just now actually..." Senju answers.

[name] closes her eyes, her head tilting back slightly as she accepts the reality of the situation. Her roughed-up appearance made sense now.

They were going to have sex.

[name] felt her throat close up, her heart frantically beating in an unpleasant way. 

Oh, it hurts...

It hurts so much. 

She only now realized how much pain Senju had been put through during their teenage years.

"[name]...I-" 

"Don't." [name] interrupts her.

"It doesn't matter." She continues, releasing a heavy breath. 

"[name] please-"

"Stop Sen-"

"NO, LET ME SPEAK!" The shorter female says raising her voice. [name] stills.

"I- I'm sorry, [name]." Senju's voice wavers as she apologizes.

"Sorry about what?" [name] snaps, her question coming out more stern than she intended.

"I- I-" Senju starts but is cut off when [name] sighs sadly.

"You're sorry that you moved on from me? You're sorry that you broke your promise that you'd wait for me? You're sorry that you're engaged?" [name] asks her.

Senju says nothing except look at the floor guiltily. [name] lets out another sigh.

"You found someone you love and makes you happy. You have nothing to be sorry about Senju." [name] says. 

"Then why are you looking at me like that?" Senju asks, finally meeting eyes with [name]. Her vision blurred with tears noticing the [name]'s countenance.

"Like what?" 

"Like you're disappointed in me..." Senju replies in a whisper.

"I am disappointed, but not at you. I am disappointed in myself because I let you down for so long. So if it's anyone that should be sorry, it's me." [name] says but Senju denies shaking her head, tears rolling down her face.

"Please Senju, you just got engaged. Please don't ruin such a happy occasion crying over someone like me..." [name] turns and walks closer to the door.

When she finished wearing shoes, a broken sob reached her ears. 

[name] refused to turn around, because she was aware that if she did, she would break completely.

As much as she wanted to comfort her, [name] knew...

Senju was no longer hers to comfort.

"Goodbye, Senju." [name] says and walks out, pulling the door shut behind her.

[name] walked into the convince store hoping to buy some ice cream. As much as she hated sweets, she wanted something extremely cold.

She hoped to get a brain freeze while eating it, that might help to cool her raging thoughts. 

Once reaching the ice cream section, she gets distracted by the alcohol refrigerator right next to it. Against her better judgment, her hand reaches for the sake bottle.

Five minutes later she was sitting on the pavement with two beers and a pack of cigarettes. 

After realizing she didn't have enough money on her to pay for sake she decided to settle for a can of beer and a cigarette pack. The second beer came with the buy one got one free offer, a total steal honestly.

Although she was never a fan of drinking or smoking, the night called for it. She stands up and decides to savor the commodities in her hands at her favorite spot. 

Reaching the rooftop of the abandoned building, she reminisces about the moments spent at the bowling area that was just a floor beneath her. 

It was her and Mikey's favorite spot.

Oh my god, Mikey...

She hadn't seen him since that day, and honestly, she was glad. She certainly didn't have the courage to face him.

She sat down near the door, knowing she'll be drunk off her ass in the next few minutes, and wanted to avoid any accidents just because she couldn't cope with a stupid heartbreak. 

She took out a single cigarette and placed it between her lips going to light it a bit then realized, she didn't have a lighter...

Letting out a grunt of frustration at her foolishness she places the stick back into the box. She clenched her teeth in anger knowing she just spent 500 yen on cigarettes that couldn't even use.

Despite wanting to chuck the pack away, she didn't. Instead, she held it close.

They were of Benson & Hedges, Shinichiro's favorite brand. 

[name] sighs. This is why she left, just a day back in Japan and she's already depressed. She wished she had never come back, she was happy in the Philippines, but again, she couldn't just leave her brother behind.

She opens one of the beer cans and starts sipping from it. 

Knowing that her alcohol tolerance was non-existent she only decided to drink just a bit, making sure to stay coherent enough to walk down multiple stairs and go back home.

But of course, God has never been on her side, has he?

Sips turned into gulps and within the next minute, she had already started sipping on the second can. 

She didn't know if it was the slight anger towards Senju, or because she was here on the rooftop, but she found her thoughts slipping from Senju to Mikey.

She smiles fondly remembering how much this place meant to her, to them.

They had shared many firsts here. Actually, except for their first kiss, every other first happened here.

The first time they drank, the first time they tried to smoke, first proper confessions, first date, first 'I love you's, the first time they--

[name] cringed at the memory, she couldn't believe how reckless they both were at the time, but what did two 14-year-olds know at that time?

That's what love did, it made them feel like they were the only ones here, and it truly made them feel invincible.

Love is such a dangerous emotion for someone so young, but they both fell into its captivity without realizing it.

They say that an average person falls in love three times.

The first love. The type of love that happens at a young age which is frequently referred to as puppy love. 

It feels euphoric at that time and being young and inexperienced doesn't make you understand what you truly feel.

As you get older, you think back to it and try to figure out if it was really love.

Mikey was her first love.

Then comes the second love.

It is said to be the painful one, it's the one that helps you grow. 

It's said to come with a lot of pain, lies, betrayal, drama, and so on...

And although she was grateful Senju never put her through all this, she wouldn't deny that Senju was her second love.

Lastly, it's the third love.

It's usually the one.

[name] could only wonder when she'll find her third love. 

It's said to come blindly; when your soulmate just walks into your life unexpectedly--

"[name]...?" A soft yet stern speaks from behind her.

[name] felt her heart drop and her breath got stuck in her throat. 

Just when she was having an inner monologue about love he just had to walk into her life again, didn't he?!

"M-Mikeyy...~" [name] slurs turning to face him. 

"What are you doing?!" Mikey raises his voice in shock seeing how drunk she is. 

"Oh just thinking about all the times we fucked here, why else would I be here?" [name] smiles although in her mind she cringes, not believing she some something like that.

'I am never drinking again.' [name] promises herself.

"Come on, I'll take you home..." Mikey walks towards her and takes hold of her wrist. 

"No! Come sit and d-drink with m-*hic* me~" She tugs him closer but he doesn't budge.

"[name], lets go." He says sternly once again, but she only shakes her head.

"No- come on just a drink, just like old times~" [name] pushes her half-empty can of beer into his face. 

He sighs in defeat and takes it from her.

"If you insist." but instead of drinking, he chucks the can over his shoulder obviously not realizing how much force he used because it ended up falling over the roof and landing on the road with a soft clatter.

[name] gaped at him in shock.

"No! Why did you do that?!" She stands up immediately and goes to push him, only to miss and trip over her own feet.

Luckily, he stopped her fall. [name] looks back at him, only to realize she was seeing two of him, her vision suddenly blurred as she felt herself sobering up at the sight of him.

She finally got a good look at his face, and for a second the same feeling of love filled her stomach. 

"Manjiro..." Her vision clears up and her eyes fall on the dragon tattoo on his neck. 

Lifting her hand she traces the ink on his neck, slowly striding closer, and instinctively places her lips on his. 

But to her disappointment, he doesn't respond and pulls away within the very second. 

They both stand in silence trying to understand the situation. She was surprised by her own actions, the shock sobering her up completely.

She takes a few steps back and starts apologizing.

"I'm sorry, that was very out of line...that was definitely not fair to your girlfriend." [name] says, the words spilling out before she can stop them.

"Oh? So it's fair to me?" Mikey replies haughtily. [name] shakes her head.

"It's unfair to you too..." She looks away, unable to muster up to courage to look at him.

"Hmm, don't worry about it. Plus, I don't have a girlfriend." He replies.

"Oh, boyfriend...?" She asks.

"No boyfriend either, [name]." Mikey says.

"Then...why did you pull away?" She asks nervously looking down at her feet.

"Maybe because we're not together? Also, the fact that you're drunk?" He replies with a soft voice.

"R-right...also, I'm not drunk. I just got a bit tipsy and wasn't thinking straight, so sorry for that..." 

[name] felt emotionally distraught, and Mikey didn't fail to notice that.

"Come on, I'll take you home." Mikey says but [name] just shakes her head.

"No, I don't want to go there right now..." She wraps her hands around herself to provide some sort of warmth.

"Then where do you wanna go?" Mikey asks; taking off his jacket and wrapping it around her figure. 

Such gestures, it all felt so natural.

"You place...?" [name] asks hesitantly. Mikey sighs in disapproval.

"[name]..." Although he couldn't imagine leaving her so he agreed silently.

He took her to the Sano Residence on his CB250T. She was impressed to see how well he managed to maintain the bike even after so many years.

"I see you still live here." [name] smiles softly.

"This place has too many memories, I couldn't leave." Mikey smiles back.

"Is Grandpa in? I figure he's sleeping right now?" [name] asks.

"[name], he passed away years ago..." Mikey replies, his voice wavering. She looked at him in shock as this was the first she ever heard of it.

"What? When?!"

"A year after you left..."

"So, you've been living here all by yourself...?" She questions with a small frown.

"Pretty much." He replies and starts to guide her into the house.

It wasn't fair. He had been through so much, he had lost so many people.

His Mother, Father, Shinichiro, Baji, Draken, Emma, Izana, and His Grandfather.

And [name] left him as well...

"Why the long face?" Mikey brings his index fingers to the side of her lips and slightly pulls them up into a smile.

[name] giggles like every other time he did this gesture when they were young.

"Nothing..."

"Come on, tell me." he insists.

"I just- I'm not saying this is an insensitive way but, I feel like this house holds so many sad memories. I couldn't imagine being strong enough to put up with everything...does that make sense?" [name] rambles on.

"It's true, this place has seen such sad moments but at the end of the day, this house is a part of me. I couldn't imagine leaving this place. Hopefully, I'll find someone to make new memories here with..." Mikey trails off.

"O-oh...do you have someone in mind already?" [name] tries to keep her voice strong but a stutter manages to slip in.

"Honestly, I always thought of it being you..." he says with a sad smile. 

"Do you still love me, Manjiro?" She brings up the courage to ask the question.

"Yeah...I do." 

"Then why did you pull away?!" 

"Because you don't love me back, [name]! You know what?! I am so sick of this! Even when we were broken up 10 years ago, every time you found yourself frustrated with Senju, you came to me. Ever since then you always kept me as your second option, and I hate that!" Mikey snaps at her.

[name] goes to defend herself but gets interrupted.

"Don't think I'm stupid [name]! I know exactly why you were drunk and crying just now, it's because you found out about Senju and Yuzuha didn't you? I was just trying to be a decent person and comfort you but then you went and kissed me, trying to distract yourself like you always do!

You did that before you left too! And I was so blinded by what I felt for you that I agreed with everything you did, not even considering the fact you were just using me as a goddamn stress reliever! Can't you see that what you did hurt me as well!" 

Mikey's eyes filled with regret, he hadn't meant to snap at her but he had a limit as well.

"Manjiro I- I'm sorry that I made you feel that way...I didn't realize it I swear! At that time, running away always seemed to be the best option, but I never realized how many people I ended up hurting in the process..." [name] trailed off, her eyes welled up tears that she instantly blinked away. 

After all, she had no right to cry.

"It's alright...I'm also at fault for leaving you like that." Mikey reasons.

"But you did that to protect me, to protect everyone. It's not the same. Fuck, I am the worst, aren't I?" [name] covers her face, tears burning her eyes.

"To be honest, yeah." Mikey's lips form a thin line. [name] scoffs at his reply but agrees cause it's the truth.

"But that's the past. Now that you're back, you can start over." [name] uncovers her face and gives Mikey a grateful smile. She appreciated his attempt to reassure her.

"Do you still sleep in your garage room?" 

"No, I shifted to aneki's room, although it's still there. Here, the guest room is right here, you can stay here for the night." Mikey leads to the second-last room.

"Thanks..." 

"No problem, you can take a shower if you'd like, although I don't think you need one. You smell quite nice." Mikey says before his lips seal shut. 

[name] stares at him blankly trying to process what he said.

"Fuck, that was weird. I'm sorry, I just didn't think I'll ever see you again so my mind isn't working properly..." he explains trying to subdue his embarrassment. [name] stifles her giggles.

"It's alright, Manjiro. Good night." She smiles softly.

"Yeah, night. I'm just in the next room so shout if you need help." 

[name] just nods and closes the door behind her.

It was around 2 AM when [name] found herself awake on the bed. Her mind was plagued by the thoughts of Senju.

Despite what her selfish heart asked for she knew Senju was just a star that she could never reach. A love that will never be hers.

She is distracted by the sound of glass clinking coming from elsewhere, so she gets out of bed and ventures out of the room. 

Letting the sound of running water be her guide she traverses through the house and comes face to face with Mikey who had just finished rinsing a glass.

"Sorry, did that wake you?" Mikey gives her an apologetic look under the moonlight that seeps through the windows.

"Ah no, I was awake." Was all she said.

"Thirsty?"

"No...Manjiro?" [name] calls out to him.

"Hm?" 

"Was it real for you...?" [name]'s voice comes out weak but her gaze does not falter.

"I don't understand." Mikey replies, confused by her question.

"Everything that happens between us. Was it real for you as it was for me?" [name] asks with a sad gaze, slowly coaxing him to answer.

"I think I made my feelings clear every single time, [name]." Mikey sighs, but then flinches at the sight in front of him.

[name]'s cheeks slowly got covered in tears as she finally succumbed to the events of today. Unable to stop herself she strides closer to Mikey and hugs him, words of gratitude falling from her lips.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you for loving me back then. For loving me now. Thank you."

Mikey holds her close while responding to her words with comforting pats on the back. Minutes go by and they remain the same. The flow of her tears were far from slowing down and so were her words of gratitude.

She very slowly pulls her head away from the side of his neck and moves her face close to his.

"Thank you." As the gratitude is whispered into the night, [name] connects her lips to her first love's.

This time Mikey does not withdraw, and only pushes closer, indulging in her taste.

Slowly, they guide their bodies to Mikey's room. Once the back of [name]'s legs hit the bed, she gently falls back before letting her back rest on the bed.

Her legs were spread apart for Mikey to move with ease as his lips continued their ministrations on her collarbone. 

Pulling back to start undressing her, he halts to admire the love of his life.

Her lips were wet, small trails of moisture on her cheeks and neck glistened under the moonlight, the sight itself made him weak.

His hands work to get rid of her shorts so she's bare from the waist down spare for her underwear.

He doesn't remove the white dress shirt she adorned, instead, he unbuttons the first few buttons just enough to reveal the simple black bra that held her weight.

His right hand smoothly slid her bra up enough to expose her chest and the way he did so made it seem as though her breasts were trapped.

[name] lets a weak whimper escape her lips as Mikey's tongue slithered on the valley between her breasts. 

His thumbs teased her nipples as his mouth trailed her collarbone. Slowly moving his mouth to one of her breasts he wrapped his lips around her nipple, using his tongue to add to the pleasure.

His tongue kept rolling around her nipple, saliva leaked from his mouth to the sides of her breast leaving prominent trails. 

He couldn't get enough, feeling how her nipple slowly but surely turned hard. He continues to do the same to her other breast before placing his hands around her waist to flip her over.

[name] balanced herself on her hands and knees, letting out faux moans as Mikey's thumb rubbed her clit through the fabric.

Slowly pulling her underwear down yet not completely off, his fingers brush through her folds smoothly.

Mikey stares at her cunt with a blank stare. Somehow he wasn't surprised at the the lack of arousal. 

His eyes grew pained yet a sad smile took over his lips.

He had yet again fallen prey to [name]'s false words.

Gathering some saliva on his tongue he slides it over her clit and her folds finally plunging into her waiting hole.

[name] lets out a loud hoarse moan, not trying to muffle her sounds like she usually does. 

"Ahhh- There!" 

[name] occasionally lets out words of affirmation as Mikey's tongue fucks her now-sopping cunt. 

His teeth would sometimes nip at her clit painfully as a form of revenge yet [name] only found pleasure in it.

[name] continuously lets out moans unable to stop her approaching orgasm.

She couldn't deny that this was the best tongue to have touched her. The title would change every now and then while she was a student at uni.

Her best experience was during a foursome with fellow female students.

Her cunt clenches around Mikey's tongue at the thought, mind becoming hazy as she feels her clit throb.

She remembers how amazing it was. She was in the same position as she is now but her mouth was on an older's classmate's cunt, licking away at her folds.

She herself was getting her pussy kitten licked by two other classmates. One had her tongue constantly sucking on her clit to the point it was red and puffy. 

The other would use her tongue to assault her insides, switching between her fingers as her tongue would kitten-lick her asshole despite [name]'s protests or she would engage in a sloppy kiss with the other girl, their tongues still coated in [name]'s arousal.

That was the last time she had a shaking orgasm, that was until tonight.

[name] had unconsciously started to push against Mikey's tongue, his wet muscle was long enough to somehow brush against her g-spot. His nose rested dangerously close to her other entrance, and she would moan every time it lightly touched her.

She pushes back harder as she slowly feels her orgasm fade, so she thinks of the only thing that could release all the tension.

[name] plants her face against the mattress and moans into it as she thinks of Senju in every position imaginable.

She did the same in all her years at uni as she would fuck anyone who remotely resembled Senju or sometimes Mikey.

She thought of how Senju's tongue would feel on her cunt. She imagined her cunt against hers, hands tied as [name] would ride her face.

Tears prick her eyes as the thoughts overwhelm her.

"SE—AGH AHH! THERE! PLEASE! PLEA- AHH! MIKEY!" 

[name] squirts for the first time in 4 months. Her arousal coated her thighs, tainting the bedsheet below her.

Trying to ride out her high, she grinds her soaked cunt across his face in hopes of more stimulation, making sure to rub her clit on his nose and completely drench his face.

Mikey lets her move as she pleases, aiding her by softly licking up all her arousal. 

As he finished, he places a small kiss on her clit before standing up to walk away.

Before he could get too far, [name] shifts to sit on her knees and stops him by holding his hand. 

"Where are you going...?" [name] asks in a slight panic. Mikey only smiled down at her.

"Get some sleep, [name]." He replies trying to free his hand from her grasp.

"What...do you- why did you stop? What about you-?"

"This is enough [name]." Mikey loses smile.

"No, it's not- I need more! More than her- Mikey, please! Please..." [name] sobs guiding Mikey's hand between her thighs, coaxing two of his fingers to slide inside her.

Once they were settled in she moved her hips to mimic riding his fingers as she once did him, trying to lure him in. Her back was arched, pushing out her chest so they would move along with her hips. Her head tilted back to expose her neck, making it look so kissable.

Mikey was slightly caught off guard by her actions, never having seen her so desperate and submissive. He clenches his teeth in anger but keeps his mouth shut, only replying by driving his fingers deeper.

"Ahh! Just like that!" 

[name]'s moans were music to his ears yet it made them bleed, knowing nothing was directed towards him.

"You're so fucking selfish." 

Those were Mikey's last words before he rips his hand away from [name], completely distributing her orgasm.

"Manjiro what are you-?!" [name] exclaims but gets interrupted by the shutting of the door.

As a few minutes go by she hears rustling around the house she can see from the window how Mikey leaves the house looking fresh as if she hadn't just drenched his face.

He soon leaves on his bike, driving into the lonely night.

Tears now stained her face. 

How could he just leave her? Who should she go to next? How else could she stop the throbbing between her legs that had yet to subside?

[name] falls back on her back, her head on the pillows. 

She spreads her legs and immediately plunges two of her fingers into her weeping cunt. As she did so she was brought some relief, but her clit still pulsated against her palm. 

She sits up slightly, her right hand still in her cunt and she leans against the head of the bed using her left hand to support herself. 

Her left hand then moved to her breasts which were still trapped between her bra and her shirt. Her fingers stimulate her nipple as she continued to finger fuck herself, her mind filled with images of an engaged woman. 

She imagined fucking Senju in her favorite position. 

When she was at uni and became intimate with anyone who was similarly submissive to Senju she would fuck them in this position, hoping to do the same to her love one day.

Her room had a thin and long mirror on the side of her bed and there was enough distance between them to fit two people.

So as she would get eaten out by her partner for the night, she would make sure the girl would have her bare cunt pressed against the mirror.

She wouldn't stop the girl's actions until she was sure that the part of the mirror and everything below was covered in her arousal. 

When it was, she would shift the both of them so that [name] was sitting on her knees and the girl was lying flat on the floor, her legs over [name]'s shoulder would rest on her bed and the girl would have a complete view of her arousal and her dripping cunt as it got fucked by [name].

[name] would then tease the girl with her tongue all night and she forced her to lick up her own arousal on the mirror.

The girls who had experienced this would cry and cry, the filthy actions would embarrass them but they would only grow closer to their release.

Sadly for them, even during these intimate moments, [name]'s mind would only replace them with a certain pink-haired girl.

[name] felt herself growing close to her orgasm when thinking of Senju in the same position.

But suddenly her mind replaces herself with the image and Yuzuha and it breaks [name]. Shaking her head in defiance she continues her actions nonetheless.

Her fingers started to numb and her arm started to hurt, but she didn't stop until she had released all over her fingers.

Letting her breathing slow down she brings up her hand close to her face to look at her arousal.

After she cooled down she let her forearm rest over her eyes, letting her tears flow.

Mikey hadn't felt such disappointed in years. As ashamed as he was to admit it, he was disappointed in [name] more so than he was in himself. 

He had noticed how she had called him 'Mikey' as opposed to 'Manjiro' like she usually does.

It's something that she had started doing somewhere in between his Kantou Manji days. It had started when Senju had officially entered the picture.

Without even realizing it, he had played right into her hands. She would lure him with her sweet 'Manjiro's and her lips would only spill 'Mikey's as she would fuck him.

It was already too late when he came to the realization.

Everything was different when she loved him, and only him. It was sweet. And a part of him believes it all went to shit when he left, yet he atoned for his actions. 

He was truly happy when [name] found love but when years later he heard of Senju and Yuzuha a part of him felt guilty, even though he hadn't done anything wrong.

Everyone else who was aware of [name] and Senju was also a bit distraught, but they were happy for Senju and Yuzuha nonetheless.

Mikey himself was happy for Senju for finding her happiness and hoped that [name] would be too but, by last night's events it was pretty clear how she had taken the news.

Because if she was happy, she wouldn't have kissed him. It had become second nature for her, if Senju does something wrong, go to Mikey. It had been drilled into her bones. 

Mikey walks into his house at around 9 AM. He looked to see if [name] was still here and sure enough, her shoes were right there.

He goes to check his room and finds [name] fast asleep on his bed. Her back was on the mattress, her head leaned up due to it resting on multiple pillows. Her hands were on each side of her head, and her legs were slightly pressed together and folded up.  

When he saw her face, he noticed how her lips were parted with small gasps escaping them, her face contorting as if there was some sort of tension building.

"Senju...Senju...~" 

Hearing this Mikey's eyes unconsciously drift to [name]'s slightly exposed cunt, there was a prominent trail of her arousal leaking from her hole.

Against his better judgment, he finds himself yet again at the mercy of [name], hands on her knees to spread them apart.

He uses his finger to see how wet she is and is utterly surprised to see her completely soaked as he spreads her folds. 

[name] lets out a pitiful whimper at his action.

Without another second being wasted, he sticks out his tongue and licks up from her asshole to her hole, gathering all of her arousal and pushing it back inside her.

[name] moans but doesn't wake, her lips forming the phonetics of Senju's name.

Removing his tongue from inside her, Mikey just licks her all over her cunt, trying to build her orgasm.

[name]'s eyes open but her vision is blurry, she just feels extremely wet all over and can only make out how her thighs felt to be trembling.

When she leans up and looks down to see Mikey eating her out, her head falls back and her cunt pushes forward on his tongue. Noticing her to be awake now Mikey goes back to driving his tongue inside her.

The loud squelching sounds slowly brought her out of her sleepy state, her hips starting to push against him making a few squirts spurt out of her cunt and onto Mikey's tongue.

"Ah~ Ah~ Mikey...what are you-?"

"Shhhhh..."

Feeling him speak against her clit just brings her orgasm closer. This all felt like a fever dream to her. 

Mikey pulls away from making her whine but her mouth is agape when Mikey moves to her side and up to suck on her nipple, his fingers stimulating her soaking folds.

His tongue moved around her nipple along with his fingers and these actions were too blinding for her, falling into complete submission for the first time.

Two of his fingers suddenly plunge into her just as he softly bites her nipple, her head is thrown back as she moans out.

"Ahh! Senju!"

[name]'s eyes widened in horror, instantly looking at Mikey's face but his eyes remained closed, but she noticed how thin tears spilled from the corners of his eyes and fell onto her body, getting camouflaged within her sweat.

His mouth was still sucking on her mounds and the movement of his fingers hadn't faltered for a second. 

In fact, his thrusting had sped up, hitting her g-spot repeatedly, she was sure her cunt would be puffed up due to the sheer force of his fingers. 

"Mikey I—" 

"Just finish, [name]." 

And she does.

Her release coats his hand up to his wrists as his fingers reach knuckles deep in her cunt to coax out every drop.

This continued for a few minutes till their breathing was no longer erratic. 

Mikey shifts once again to place himself between her legs to lick up all of her arousal, [name] remains silent ignoring how her cunt clenches around nothing as Mikey smoothes his tongue all over her folds licking her clean.

Once he is done, he places a kiss on her clit like he always does before getting out of the bed.

"Manjiro-"

"Take a bath. I have some clothes for you, freshen up." Mikey interrupts her before walking away from her for the second time.

"Where did you get my clothes from? Did you visit Waka-nii when you left?" [name] questions as she stands at the door wearing her shoes.

"Yes, I didn't think you had informed them so I knew they would be worried. I told them I found you drunk so you're sleeping at my house."

—————————

09:34 AM

"She's at your house?" Wakasa asks in a worried tone.

"Yes, I found her drunk and felt uncomfortable leaving her alone. I tried to bring her here but she kept fighting so I just brought her back to my house." 

"Drunk?...*sigh* I see, thanks for informing me. You said you needed some clothes? Wait I'll get some for you." Wakasa replies massaging his head.

He returns a few minutes later, a paper bag in hand.

"I'm sorry about [name], Mikey. I wasn't too worried knowing she wouldn't do anything reckless, but just before you came here Takeomi called me and said that Senju and Yuzuha had gotten engaged last night." 

Wakasa sighs out as Mikey's eyes widen in surprise as he thinks back to a few hours ago.

"This is enough [name]." Mikey loses smile.

"No, it's not- I need more! More than her- Mikey please! Please..." [name] sobs guiding Mikey's hand between her thighs, coaxing two of his fingers to slide inside her.

Once they were settled in she moved her hips to mimic riding his fingers as she once did him, trying to lure him in. Her back was arched, pushing out her chest so they would move along with her hips. Her head tilted back to expose her neck, making it look so kissable.

Mikey was slightly caught off guard by her actions, never having seen her so desperate and submissive. He clenches his teeth in anger but keeps his mouth shut, only replying by driving his fingers deeper.

He thinks back to how desperate and broken her mind seemed to work, and suddenly everything made sense.

He realized she had probably met them right after the proposal. He felt pity for [name] yet it was still not an excuse for her behavior.

"She didn't do anything drastic right?" Wakasa asks Mikey to make sure [name] wasn't too disruptive.

"Don't worry Wakasa-san, she fell asleep as soon as she hit the bed." Mikey replies with an uncertain smile.

"I see...Please ask her to come home soon. Thanks for doing this Mikey." Wakasa pats him on the shoulder walking back into his house.

—————————

"You told him I was drunk?" [name] asked shocked by the revelation. Mikey gives her a nod.

"He's going to murder me... You- ...You didn't say anything else right?"

[name] averts her gaze as she questions him.

"No, I just said you fell asleep as soon as you got to the bed." He explains.

"But..." He continues making [name] look at him in a slight panic.

"I don't take your brother for an idiot." 

That was all he said.

[name] nods at him before finally saying everything she had decided to say while taking a shower.

"Manjiro, I'm sorry. I truly am. I was sorry all those years ago, I was sorry last night, and I will continue to remain sorry for what I have done. I have no excuse for—"

"[name] you don't need to do this-" Mikey's words interrupt her but it only makes [name] lash out.

"No! I have to. You deserve an apology, okay?!" His lips seal shut and [name] takes it as a sign to continue.

"I was really sad when I found out that Senju and Yuzuha had gotten engaged. Over the years Senju had started growing distant towards me to the point that we had completely stopped talking. 

A part of me knew that she slowly realized that it wasn't worth loving someone like me, she didn't need to stay with someone who tormented her at every turn. 

I was so depressed by the silent rejection that I would sleep with anyone who slightly resembled her in looks, personality, submission, or anything that reminded me of her. I would project her onto my partners and I unconsciously did the same to you.

I would try to stop myself by telling myself that Senju and I just got too busy, friends drift apart but when they meet it's left they never left. I would tell myself that it would be the same with us. That Senju would love me again when she saw me, yet it didn't go as planned.

Manjiro, It wasn't a lie when I said I loved you. I love you! I really really love you! But when Senju came into the picture I started loving her even though I never forgot you. I...

Manjiro, I'll be better! I'll go to therapy, anything! Anything to better myself. Just give me a chance... I'll be better so you won't ever regret having loved me. I'll make myself better so you don't have to be ashamed of me. Just give me a chance..." 

[name]'s heart felt light as soon as all the words spilled out of her, but immediately a brick was stacked on her heart once again and she dreaded his response.

She told herself that no matter his response, no matter what he said she would accept. 

"Okay."

[name] looks at him in disbelief. Did he just agree?

"Okay?" 

"Okay. I'll give you a chance. But only when you can accept the true relationship between Senju and Yuzuha. Can you do that?" Mikey asks her.

[name] nods trying to compose herself.

"Yes, I can do that!" [name] assures.

"Are you sure, [name]? Are you ready to accept the fact that Senju no longer loves you? Are you ready to accept the fact that as we speak Senju is probably getting filled and fucked by someone who will never be you?" 

By the end of the sentence, Mikey had pulled [name] close to him by her shoulders, making sure that her eyes stared back at his. 

He knew his words were brutally honest, the last part might have been unnecessary but he could no longer ignore just how hurt he was by her.

[name]'s heart ached at his words but she kept staring back, not moving her gaze for even a second.

"Yes. For you, I will accept it." Was [name]'s response. Hearing this Mikey lets go of [name] and steps back. A few seconds go by as neither of them says anything, yet they don't break their stare.

"Very well. I will wait for you." Mikey finally lets out a smile, his heart grows heavy when [name] smiles back and bows as a thank you.

He watches as she turns around and leaves the house, closing the door behind her.

He already knew how fate works, and what it will do to him since god was never on his side.

He always wondered if he was being watched by the devil, and he wondered if he would keep looking upon him till he had taken everyone from his life.

[name] too wondered if she had a devil in her.

Being loved by [name] was truly a beautiful thing. But it would become dangerous if it isn't reciprocated. She would never directly hurt anyone, but everyone around her would end up in the crossfire and would get used by her to ease her.

Then she would think of ways revenge, payback in ways that would have her love come crawling back.

Even now, as she makes her way home the devil persuades her to forget about Mikey. He tells [name] to go find Senju and make her forget all about her fiance.

He coaxes [name] to find her and fuck her into oblivion. Make sure that [name] will always be the best tongue to fuck her, the best fingers to stuff her full, the best pussy she'll ever taste, the best sex she'll ever experience. The most loved she'll ever feel.

This was tempting for [name], but for now, she'll ignore the devil and only listen to Mikey. She will make him take the place of an angel or rather...

Make him a devil to kill her own.

[erospandemos]

Let's get out of here

Jinsoul x Reader

Length: 3.8k

Tags: fluff, drunken confession, best friend

Shoutout to @a-casual-kpopfan for making me a Jinsoul simp.

Note: This is a work of fiction. Don't drunk drive. Call a cab.

Alcohol in an old plastic cup wasn’t the best, it didn’t taste good, and you would have surely preferred a fruit juice, but nobody at this party drank it for the taste anyway. You kept on drinking, tilting your head back to get the last drops out of your red cup. You tried not to drink too much and be responsible but looking around, you couldn’t see any water at all so you swallowed the rest of your beer-flavored saliva. 

You leaned against the wall and scanned the room for the 10th time this night. You didn’t know whose house this was. You only knew it was a house. You weren’t the type of person to come to parties but when Jinsoul begged you to go with those puppy eyes, you couldn’t resist and left without asking many questions. You didn’t even change your clothes after your part-time and just hopped in your car with your very excited best friend and drove off.

The music was too loud in your ears, the drums hit in your chest and the bass vibrated throughout all your body. The lights were low so you couldn’t avoid stepping on every kind of litter on the floor, sometimes even people. Everyone kept bumping into you while they were dancing, pushing you left and right. 

You kept walking straight through the herd of dancers until a girl bumped you harder than anyone else and looked you in the eyes. To your surprise, it was Jinsoul, with shaky legs and a half-filled cup.

“Oh, there you are. I've been looking for you,” she mumbled. Jinsould held onto one of your hands and with a yelp started moving wildly around you, taking you around the room. She reeked of alcohol, and so you did, but you knew for a fact she drank almost five times as much. 

“You’re making me dizzy, stop it,” you complained, holding onto her shoulder to not fall into some stranger.

“Man, you gotta relax a little, you’re too stiff,” she laughed and started jumping around as if the music seeped into her veins, her hair bouncing into your face and arms at every movement. Blinded and deafened, you were at the mercy of Jinsoul. 

“No, you’re too loose… Stop it, please.”

You didn’t know for how long you stayed in the house, there wasn’t a clock but it had gotten dark. It was starting to feel way too cramped in that place, a lot more guests arrived and you desperately needed fresh air. 

When Jinsoul’s energy ended, she slumped on you. Your best friend’s body was like a bag of potatoes, she couldn’t stand straight anymore and was all over you. “Where have you been?” Jinsoul murmured into your shoulder.

“I was telling Chuu not to jump into the pool.”

“Huh? Oh, why did you have to keep,” she hiccups, “Chuu from jumping into the pool?”

“Because we're on the second floor.” 

“Yeah, that makes sense. Chuu must be really drunk.”

“Just as much as you are,” you sighed. 

“What, me? No, I'm not drunk. You know me. I don't drink. I always have one glass of wine for New Year's and Christmas and stuff. And sometimes I have a beer when people tell me that we should all have a beer like soccer and barbecue, you know, beer-drinking activities. But aside from that, I do not drink. And that's why I am not drunk.”

“What about all the cups you had before? I saw you,” you said and her eyes shot quickly to you, she rolled her lips in a displeased frown and shrugged her shoulders, “Oh yeah that.”

Jinsoul leaned back onto the wall, her eyes nothing but black orbs in that dark room as she looked around up and down. “Oh yeah, I had a couple of drinks. These guys here keep pushing drinks on me,” she started and you couldn’t help but feel a weird feeling creeping up your neck.

“They were trying to get you drunk, huh? What a bunch of creeps.”

“What? No no no no no no. Those people are really nice. They keep handing me drinks. I think they really like me,” Jinsoul gushed in an incoherent ball of words.  “We're friends now. I want to follow them on Twitter but I can't unlock my phone because my phone is on the password doesn't work.”

“Did you forget your password?” you asked. When Jinsoul gets drunk, she becomes a mess. She doesn’t stop talking and can’t even tell numbers apart. Being her best friend for so long, you have already seen this scenario multiple times. 

“What? No. I never forget my password. My password is your name and your birthday and I wouldn't forget your birthday no matter how drunk you are or if I am or both. I would remember your birthday because I bought you that game that you keep gushing about that isn't out yet. I wasn't quite sure whether I should buy it for you because I was worried you might spend more time on it than hanging out with me but you seem like you really wanted it so I bought it for you. And well I didn't want to tell you that. There was some really important reason not to tell you but I can't really remember it right now…”

You raised an eyebrow. You didn’t know if you should have been surprised or confused, because you didn’t really believe what she was saying. Anyhow, it was clear how wasted Jinsoul was, and being her ride, you understood it was the time to get her out of here, now that she could still walk or try to.

“Well never mind I'm sure it will come back to me eventually…” she kept speaking as you pulled her arm. “Hey where are we going?” she whined, trying to pull the other way.

“To my car, Jinsoul.”

“Why? Why do you want to drive me home?” 

“Yeah, that’s why.”

“Do you want to come to my apartment so you can like be alone with me?” Jinsoul smirked.

“Let’s say it’s like that,” you said. You didn’t want to talk any further as her head was completely empty now. Who knew where she was getting with that, her imagination was always wild.

“I knew it!” she screamed. Fortunately noobody seemed to notice her in the midst of the loud music so you were spared from the embarrassment you have to usually endure when you were out with her. “knew that, I totally knew that,” she said again then dramatically waved in the air, spinning around, “Bye everybody!”

“I'm going to go home with my best friend. He's my um... D-dissed... disem... demated... demated driver and isn't he so cute?”

“It’s designated driver,” you corrected her. “Let’s go now.” 

“Hey! Not so hasty. I didn't even finish my drink.”

“Come on, do it quickly.”

“Okay fine. Just let me finish it okay? Mmm... yeah.” She chugged all her drink down, groaning in satisfaction, then some quick steps followed before she fell again. You quickly raised your arm to catch her and step back to stand upright. Jinsoul’s body was drooping all over you.

“Oh I feel dizzy,” she tried to say. “If you want some advice, don't mix rum with tequila. We put something in that rum that doesn't go with tequila like at all. Hmm... Why are you hugging me?”

“I’m not hugging you, I’m preventing you from breaking your damn head.”

“I mean I'm not complaining,” she muttered under her breath as if she didn’t hear anything of what you said. “I always love it when you hug me but…”

She tried to stand up and move away from you. You kept telling her she wasn’t okay but she didn’t want to hear you. Jinsoul stood up, putting her arms out to show you that she was just fine, then her legs wobbled and she fell onto you once again.

“Okay okay okay okay okay seriously obviously I can't. Maybe you should hug me again. Thank you.”

You were feeling weird from being this close to her. Maybe because you liked her. No maybe, that was why. You looked at her eyes, totally relaxed and sleepy. Jinsoul smiled, like the dork she was, and got closer to you, almost bumping your noses.

“Did I ever tell you that your eyes are like really pretty this close up?” she whispered. Her voice was warm and sultry—her charms were starting to have an effect on you. Those were the times when you must not listen to your head at all, telling you to kiss her. But that wouldn’t be right and you knew it.

Jinsoul closed her eyes for a brief moment so she could take a breath and raise her chin even closer to you. You shivered. “Are you falling asleep?” you said.

“Huh? What? No! Who is falling asleep? I closed my eyes because it was romantic. I was leaning in for a kiss but you missed your cue when you just left me hanging here with my eyes closed. So this is totally your fault,” she blurted out all at once.

“What did just you say?”

“Yeah, for a kiss. We are at a party. We are hugging and I'm looking into your eyes. Therefore, kiss.” 

“You’re saying dumb stuff, shut up, let’s go home,” you said and tried to move but Jinsoul clinched your arm. You were really holding back here. Jinsoul was making this way too  hard for you, you might kiss her for real if she kept that up.

“No, I don't want to go home,” she insisted. “We haven't kissed yet. Here, let's try it again,” Jinsoul said and closed her eyes, pecking her lips. You didn’t do anything. “Hey, you missed your cue again. Seriously, honey, I am drunk and I know how kissing works. You must need a refresher course or something.”

“As if you know how to kiss.”

“Huh? Yeah, I kiss. You never kiss me even though I want you to.”

“W-what did you just say? Did—how am I supposed to know?!”

“Okay. Well, maybe that's because I never tell you that I want you to because... Well, there was a reason. I'm pretty sure of that but... What was it again? I didn't want you to know that I always think about kissing you that... But why didn't I want you to know that? Anyway, can you kiss me now? Come on.”

“No.” 

“Hey, why not?” You could feel her shuffling closer to you, even more than she already was, and the warmth of the blossoming feeling in your heart that was burning more than any alcohol you have drunk that night. Jinsoul traced her fingers, against your chest, ignoring the crowded room and you fell into the wall.

She didn’t push you, your legs just got weak.

“You’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re doing,” you stuttered. “You can’t give consent in this state.” 

“No, I totally am able to give contempt.”

“No, Jinsoul, you’re drunk, you aren’t thinking straight.”

“I am totally able to say I want this. I am. You're just not kissing me because I'm drunk. You're drunkphobic,” Jinsoul started speaking. She was rambling in the most silly of ways but, in the midst of the crowd, you could only look at her eyes glistening with the rotating colorful lights. “You are totally discriminating against me. And that's against the constant, oh, it's against my rights.”

“It isn’t.” 

“It is.”

“It isn’t.” 

“All right. Okay. Will you at least kiss me when I'm sober again?”

“Only if you brush your teeth first. You smell of alcohol.”

“Well, of course, okay, yeah. Um, so that's a yes then. Yay. I love you. Hey, do you know something that will sober me up faster?”

“Stop drinking.” 

“Oh, so we're like a doctor now, are we? Come on, can I at least have a hug? Yeah, so wet I grabbed your butt. I always wanted to. Whenever I see it, and I haven't yet because there really isn't a good reason to just do it. But the heck, I can't remember it right now, like why I wouldn't. So, I believe it was probably the same reason why I never tell you that I want to kiss you or that I'm in love with you.” 

“You’re in love with… me?”

“Hmm? Yeah, I'm in love with you silly. Why did it take you this long to figure that out? I mean, what was I supposed to do?”

“Tell me?” 

“Silly, I couldn't tell you. Because if I had told you then you would have known and that... Actually, now that I think about it, it doesn't make a whole lot of sense. Sorry, sober me is kind of stupid, apparently. Can I have another iced tea? Hey, what are you staring at? Keep your hands off, he's mine.” 

“They aren’t staring at you, but at me. Chill.”

“What? She was staring at you? You're mine. People are always staring at you and talking to you and flirting with you and you always... Oh my god, it always... it always gets me super angry and I can't say anything because I have to keep it a secret for some reason, but like I can't really remember which one right now, so…” 

“Come on,” Jinsoul puckered her lips again. “Give me a kiss so they can see that you're taken.”

“No,” you snatched back at her, ignoring how her words tugged at your heartstrings. It was insane how she made your heart pound even while she was this blubbering drunk mess. 

“Dang. What was I talking about? Oh yeah. You wanted to drive me home, right? Your home or my home? Because I'm fine with either.”

“Your home,” you said a bit harsher. 

“Okay, my home… I don't think I have anything to drink at home.”

“That’s good news.” 

“You know, like just water and stuff, but I do have snacks. Ooh, can we cuddle when we get there? Or do you just want to like put me to bed?” 

You think carefully. It was just cuddling, right? Nothing bad. It wasn’t like you would have taken advantage of your best friend, if anything you were there to take care of her and help her fall asleep faster. The offer sounded very appealing, but no. “I just want to bring you home so you can sleep.”

“Oh, you do. Oh, now we're coming on strong. Not too shabby for someone who didn't know how to kiss a minute ago. I like it,” Jinsoul exclaimed, pointing a finger at you as if she shot you with Cupid’s arrow and winked.

You sighed happily. “No, you have to sleep, Jinsoul.”

“What? No, I don't need to sleep. Hey, you can take it slow if you want like cuddle. Don't you like me?” Jinsoul moved her head down, seemingly pouting at you. The alcohol amplified her feelings by 1000% and suddenly she got emotional and teary-eyed. She spoke softly and looked at you even softer. You felt her pulling you a bit and noticed her hand on your sleeve. 

“I went to this stupid party because I wanted you to have fun and I'm always super nice to you and I always look you in your eyes and play with your hair and bite my lip because just because that would make you fall in love with me and now you tell me that it didn't work?”

Her words bounced off of you at first and you didn’t notice what she was saying, assuming she was just rambling mindlessly. But then you stopped walking and thought about what she said for a moment. It was on purpose? So you weren’t just going crazy, it was her! So many days, you spent going insane over her—one day she’d be your usual dorky friend, and the next, she’d look insanely hot and irresistible. Yes, she did have a very funny personality but she was a lady and her hips didn’t lie.

With your heart almost beating out of your chest, you leaned down and looked at Jinsoul in the eyes. She was still grumpy and wrinkled her nose to look angry. But she was cute.

“No, I think it worked,” you managed to say. Then you let out a breathy chuckle, squishing her cheeks with both your hands and forcing her eyes not to look anywhere else. “Jinsoul, of course, it worked, you’re such a pretty and funny girl, there’s no way I wouldn’t have fallen for you.”

“Huh? Wait. So, do you like me?” Jinsoul let her teeth brush her bottom lip as her mouth slowly opened on its own and she stared at you with wide eyes, her hair falling down to her shoulders, enchantingly so. 

“Yeah.” You told her, with the softness of someone that knew had to say it at least 100 more times. You nodded your head and Jinsoul smiled.

“Yay, I knew it,” she cheered. “Come here,” she blurted and grabbed your face, brushing her nose with yours. Your mind started to run wild—you didn’t have anywhere to go, your hands were on her face and so were hers on yours. But then she stopped. “Oh, oh wait, wait, um, sorry. I have to wait till I'm sober again, right?”

She let go of your face and you let out a sigh of relief. “So that means like we could kiss tomorrow morning, right?” Those small words were filled with hope and desperation.

“No, you’ll be hangover.” 

“No, what? I'm not gonna hang over. I never have.” 

“You always do.”

“Oh. Well, will you be there to protect me?” She sulked. 

“Yeah, fine,” you laugh. Of course, you’d be there for her, like you always had. 

“Yay. I don't mind if I get a hangover as long as you're there to snuggle me. And did you have snacks at home? It's gonna be awesome. You know what, we don't need this stupid party. Come on. Let's get going.”

You pulled Jinsoul from the kitchen to the hallway, trying your best not to let her fall into anyone. On her way out, she would wave at anyone she met before and scream about how happy she was. When you got to the door, you noticed the little step and didn’t stumble on it—you were sober enough—but Jinsoul didn’t and she tripped into you. 

You caught her full weight and stumbled back. Jinsoul leaned in close, her breath slightly sweet with the lingering scent of alcohol, and her eyes glistening with mischief.

"Darling, look at you, you’re so eager to hold me already,” she said playfully. “Why didn't you tell me you were such a handsome devil?"

You sighed and pushed her back upright. 

"Thanks, Jinsoul. Now let's get you home before you start flirting with everyone."

“What are you saying?! I’m only doing this with you!”

“Whatever you say.” You try to get Jinsoul back on track but she stumbles again, holding you by the neck, her face dangerously close to yours. She hiccups and shakes her head in pain. A moment of thought and you realize she wasn’t putting up a show but was really unable to walk. You have no other option but to drag her to the car yourself.

You walked arm in arm, Jinsoul's head occasionally resting on your shoulder as she giggled and flirted with you along the way. Jinsoul looked like she was dreaming, continuously spewing nonsense. It was a long walk to the car, doing your best not to look tired because Jinsoul would get offended if you gave her any hint of her being heavy.

Once you reached your car, you put Jinsoul down inside the back door and she climbed into the backseat. With a loud sigh, you finally get at the driving wheel and take your breath. With your hands on the wheel, you tap your fingers, trying to gain back all your sanity to not crash your car. 

"You're the best, you know that?" Jinsoul whines while slumping down.

“I'm just doing what any good friend would do."

"No, really, you're my hero tonight. My knight in shining armor!" she screamed. “Also, you said you’d be my boyfriend… we confessed to each other!”

“Alright, alright,” you ignored her words and started driving.

Arriving at her apartment complex, you helped her out of the car and walked up to her unit together. Jinsoul clung to your arm, you could feel the warmth of her body and how soft it was. Your cheeks heated up and your heart was racing.  She knew perfectly what she was doing and was nowhere near stopping.

"You know, you could stay the night with me. We could have so much fun!" Jinsoul said with a wide grin.

 "Jinsoul, you need to rest. I'll stay until you fall asleep, but that's it."

Once inside, you managed to convince her to sit down on the couch while you fetched a glass of water from the kitchen. Jinsoul finally calmed down, she was too tired at this point, and she continued to watch you from afar.  You handed her the glass of water, and she took a few sips. You stayed with her, chatting about random topics to keep her mind occupied.

After some time, Jinsoul's eyelids grew heavy, and her flirtatious energy began to wane. She yawned and snuggled up on the couch, looking more and more adorable. She slipped on your lap and her arms fell to the floor. You let out a chuckle but didn’t move, instead, you caressed her hair, looking at her beautiful face. You took some time to properly observe her beauty because, after all, you deserved it.

“Honey, I’m so tired…” Jinsoul whined.

“I know, I know, you have to sleep now.”

“You know I really need something—someone—to hug…” she said while eyeing you, “It’s not going to be anything bad I swear. I just need some comfortable hugging partner so I can fall asleep better, what do you say?”

“Uhhh…”

“Will you refuse?”

“I…”

-The next day-

You wake up on your own, your head is still pounding lightly and your body is extremely tired. You look at the ceiling: it’s of an unfamiliar color. You try to get up but something is holding you down. Your first instinct is to look down and you see a leg, then you move your eyes closer and see an arm. You turn around and see the culprit, Jinsoul.

There, beside you lies a sleeping Jinsoul, wearing a cute pajama, and a cute headband. She shuffles lightly and snuggles closers, stroking her face to your shoulder, letting out incomprehensible noises.

“Five more minutes, honey, you’re so warm,” she says with a sultry voice.

What the fuck?

THE END

Written, 20 July 2023 -23 July 2023

[tamsinbeybey-she-no-porcupine]

okay this is for the "I say Havers"-meta anon because I feel a bit bad that I didn't give you what you wanted🙈

So we pick it up again after, the last post I showed you.

Captain says his line about the cover drive, Havers thanks him and then this happens :

(Two btws: -I remember making one of my silly little lazy posts with "say something I'm giving up on you" to this image

-just found out whilst looking for the GIF: I actually can tell from Gifs that only have his facial expression what has been said to him and at which point we are in the scene,solely based on his expression😮 )

Sorry back to the meta:

Would you look at him. In the first scene we have with him Cap dismisses him by saying "carry on" and Havers gets back to his duties. But here Cap, all wrapped up in his feelings made room for a pause by not saying anything after his cricket comment.

Now Havers says this and of course he can't just leave,he has to be dismissed and my boy has places to be (north-africa). But this is clearly not him asking for further commands etc.

Look at his eyes completely fixed on Cap and his raised eyebrow and the movement of the head. It's simutaneously the gesture one makes to remind someone that it's their turn to speak or do something as well as it looks like he tries to not only encourage Cap but is trying to indicate that "If you have anything to say, now is the time". Basically it looks like he's desperately waiting/yearning/hoping that Cap will adress his feelings/confess his feelings. He's almost trying to nudge him mentally to spit something out. (Still believe His inner monologue here was "say something, say something, say something!")

But Cap just confirms that that's all and in this second Havers realises that Cap won't say anything. And look how dissapointed he looks because it's just not happening. He's giving up and very very briefly has to get his facial expression in check. he turns to leave

(Excuse the screenshot quality I'm typing this on my phone and had to take this from YouTube)

So Cap now panicks a bit because this is probably the last conversation they'll be having and he at least has something to say that resembles a good bye or an I miss you just something to tell Havers what he means to him. So at the last minute:

and of course Havers whips around with an expectant look the only difference is he does not look like he's screaming internally wondering If Cap will confess anymore. I guess because he's already in his stiff upper lip/professional mode because my god the man can hide his emotions Like 1000 times better than Cap. Also he has given up after Cap gave him emotional whiplash twice already in this conversation. But nonetheless there is still a faint hope which is shown by how fucking fast he turns towards him.

So the next part hast been said by others before. Cap tries to say something, his courage leaves him, he shakes his head to himself and settles for

With this pleading look on his face of I dunno "please I mean it"? "please you have to understand/to see"? "Please believe me when I say"?

Wordwise though he's going the semi professional route of "I really liked working with you because I like you as a colleague"

So now Havers reaction which I for the longest time could not get. I mean i get the nod that's a "acknowledged....thank you ...you too... bye"

But the smile? So yeah now I gotta say first of all professional mode is on. But also in a way he got an "It's a shame that you're going, I wish you we're staying" but just not as a romantic confession. So he's smiling because at least he got that and it was sincere? Also happy that Cap did at least say something about his emotions towards him in the end?

seriously interpretations on that smile are very welcome.

Sorry this all is again incoherent babbling, but at least it's now about the right part of the scene.

[manny-jacinto]

I didn't watch the acolyte or any of the other things that were slammed by the chuds. The only star wars adjacent series I watched was the mandalorian. But it's fucked that they'd flat out cancel this one when the other ones were also apparently (from the reviews) not very good. I don't even know what was so bad about the acolyte. The least mean reviews just said it was boring but like... The other ones also got that so?? The only explanation is really misogyny and racism from what I can assess. It's not the actors' fault that the script was messy and incoherent (which was another thing I saw less vitriolic reviews say about these flopped star wars adjacent things). But I don't know anything really. And I don't really have time to watch shows at the moment. Why was this show in particular (aside from the racism and misogyny) so slammed? I hardly even know what it's about (I know the star wars lore so, if you're in the mood for a cliff's notes reply, you can bear that in mind).

all you need to know is that it would not have been cancelled if everyone in this show was white

there are questionable things that are definitely worth the criticism like 2 flashback episodes (there were 8 episodes in total), poor decision making from the characters and stiff acting from some people but i felt it was compensated by the risks which were taken: set in a era completely unknown to the general public, some compelling characters that surprised us, amazing lightsaber battles, a super interesting villain (aka manny)

and all of this could have been vastly improved if it was a 15 episodes season instead of 8 episodes which duration varied between 30 to 46 minutes

[idkifimawake]

beneficial

fyodor x fem!reader

Canon au , probably before s3

Warnings:Murder , mentions of shots fired and death., blood.

Not proof read

It was another boring day at the school , near the outskirts of Yokohama , school was very boring , you were too high level for all of them , your ability- Order of the Phoenix (where my harry Potter fans at) was much too strong for them , it let you remember all your past life's, being reincarnated each time , and to be able to have an observant view of everything you needed , along with your IQ, and being able to turn into a small fire phoenix and control, you were practically unstoppable. You were well over 500 years old and this was your 5th body? Everything had gotten more boring ,it was more fun in the past , there were so many rules nowadays it was infuriating.

The class bell rang , everyone was in, you sat at the back observing everyone, you barely had any friends, everyone was just so boring, the only person you really would talk to was the old librarian who reminded you of your mother , the teacher's incoherent rambling started , the students listened, it was just an endless loop with no stop until you graduate, but today a boy sat next to you.

He was cheery and blonde. "Hello. Can I sit next to you?" , he had already sat down , what was the point of him asking. Not replying he yammered on. "You've never really talked to anyone yeah? So let's become friends." He said giggling. What was his name? You didn't remember, you sighed as he continued. A few days passed , you could say you would've gotten closer but it was more like he yapped whilst u listen.

But one day. "I need to tell you a secret. I have an ability, it's called the White Nights , it let's me manipulate ice." He said softly. You were taken aback , should you tell him? What if he was lying? Taking a deep breath you started

"I-i have an ability as well , it's called the Goblet of fire , I can force people in a seperate dimension where people have to fight for freedom." It was a lie , you couldn't trust this boy. Naive little you.

The next day the school went on lockdown , apparently terrorists had came to the school and the headteacher had informed the police and they were coming soon. That boy, what was his name? You didn't remember , for the first time in a while you had forgotten something , very ironic. He had disappeared completely. Shots were fired , screams were heard , everyone was gunned down, apart from you.

A tall young man walked in , his white clothes now stained crimson in his blood , who was he and why had he spared you and why did he look so familiar???

"I know you're here, Мой Феникс , just come out and I won't hurt you." His voice had a thick Russian accent, more importantly, how did he know your ability? You stood up hands up in sign of vulnerability, there were three men surrounding him , guns in hand , they were all masked up.

"What do you want?" Breath was stiff , you had never been so scared in your entire life.

"Мой Феникс , do you truly not remember me?" His voice laced with honey , that thick Russian accent was a tune to your ears. "Perhaps this'll make you remember?" A small golden feather fell out his hand , was that yours? He couldn't have known you , you remembered everything , your heart beat quickened , sweat drops were forming and flushing down your face. Were you having a anxiety attack? Not good , you haven't had one in years , the last time you had one was when....

Shots were fired, a shot through your brain and leg , his devious smirk was staring straight at you, the feather still in his hand. You fell back, memories were flushing through you.

"I killed her boss , is that all you needed?" The man's voice was gruff. "Could you let my family go?" He said in a more quiet voice. The Russian man stared at him with a disapproving look.

There was a complete silence , then...

"BOSS , I DID WHAT YOU TOLD ME TO, HELP ME , PLEASE." a man shrieked , he was burning , fire everywhere , burning everything except for the Russian.

Your wounds were healing , you had been reborn yet again, but this time you looked like you were back into your prime. You stood up , full height , to small marks where you had been shot.

"Why did you do this?" You asked quietly, gazing at the feather in his palm.

"Because you are Beneficial to me , now Мой Феникс , let us leave before the Armed Detective agency will arrive." His voice lingering in your ears

Мой Феникс - My Phoenix

[tianshiisdead]

Forgive me if this is incoherent as I'm half asleep after 2 all-nighters and lying in bed. One of the characters I don't talk about much despite really liking is Arthur, and honestly, that's because my feelings towards the UK are so complicated, but let's forget all that and zoom in on Arthur the character first! disclaimer: it's as I see him, based on canon but with certain other elements etc etc it's personal bias yk

I honestly don't know that much about British history outside of the basics, but! Concerning both relations to history and also characterization in general, Arthur is such a fascinating little man to me. He just really hits the spot, his little contradictions, when interacting with Wang Yao in my fav era (late 1800s to early 1900s) he's so arrogant but you start to see weariness creep in as well esp when he gets irritated or riled up, the way his old inferiority complex from being beaten up and the former runt of Europe seeps into his 'gentleman' facade, etc. He's a little plain and it shows in his design which I think is really cute, his spiky hair that's not super soft, big eyebrows, can't escape his rough and tumble past no matter how much he slicks back his hair. He's really Someguy but also not at all, I love the whole tsundere thing actually! I don't necessarily like it exaggerated too much but I love this guy who does feel things but would rather die than show it clearly, who keeps a distance from those he loves as well as those he hates, and who pays too much attention to this concept of etiquette and pride and respectability but also feels things so strongly it becomes hard to cover up. Tying into this weird relationship with showing emotion is the stiff upper lip thing. He can be foolhardy too, he becomes quite good at planning and is certainly less rash than Alfred but he's definitely not the inherently patient type, his pride overwhelms his common sense at times, his little tantrums when he's frustrated or angry that seem to contradict his determination not to show open emotion (but i suppose it's the 'anger isnt weak emotion' type beat. v toxic) his penchant for smugness when things go his way. He's not very glamourous and filled with little contradictions struggling against each other and he's somehow both suitably elegant and intimidating, while also being an absolute pathetic fool of a man, and it's great it's great love that

[eldritch-spouse]

I have pretty bad nightmares so now I'm imagining one night I'm too paranoid to be alone after a dream so I ask my lovely roommate breg to stay with me for the rest of the night

breg being breg accepts what great enthusiasm, tail wagging at a million miles per hour

poor ole breg however cannot see into the future and didn't know i would fall asleep & have a wet dream right in front of him

it wouldn't hurt to help relieve me right? and he's definitely not going to get another chance like this again might as well

(I was going to talk about something else but the horny took over sorry)

["My lovely roommate Breg"... I am cackling. 💀 Also, fem reader for this one.]

TW: Non-consensual sleep sex.

Of course Breg accepted to sleep next to you!

His poor mate having nightmares all by themselves, how could Breg ever refuse to be there for you?

He will insist on snuggling you to sleep, and if you question the breeder about it, he'll start spouting lies about how it'll make you feel safer to have contact, how he can just wake you up gently if you start having nightmares again. Come on, you don't have to be embarrassed about it, Breg knows what it's like! No one enjoys waking up in a fit of crying or screaming, he'll be there to make sure it doesn't get that far, he'll be there to keep the bad dreams away.

You can trust him.

Breg is already monumentally excited to share a bed with you, without having to be extremely silent and still in order to not be noticed- Now imagine his delight to have you willingly fall asleep in the breeder's arms, snuggling into him, with your adorable little mane, and your cute nose, making those sweet incoherent murmurs- Oh! Your breathing is picking up, what's that odd look on your pretty face? Breg grabs your chin softly, getting to hear the small, frantic little whimpers you're making.

Ah, you poor poor human. He wonders what's making you have these nightly terrors. You don't deserve any of them, you're such a sweet, exquisite person, who's stressing you out to make you lose good sleep like this? Who is giving you a hard time? Who's scaring you? Because Breg will have none of it! His mate deserves their wonderful full night's rest and whoever dares interfere will pay. Just look at the state of you, flushed like a cherry, sweating, eyebrows creased, curling in on yourself, legs shaking, mouth parted in an "o" of-

Wait a minute- What's that scent-

Oh.

OH.

Well then. Some very pleasant nightmare this must be, if the rather pungent smell of your """fear""" has anything to say about it.

Now, the correct thing to do here would be to wake you up, pray you don't remember anything about your dream and that you still feel comfortable enough to have Breg sleep next to you. Right. Oooorrrrr- Breg could just... Enjoy the show. You do look adorable like this, needy and whining softly, legs clenching together. Such a view. The breeder very softly nudges your blanket off, head leaning to get a better view.

What is it that you're deaming of? What's erotic enough to put you in this state? Who's doing this to you? Is it him? Fuck please, Breg hopes you're dreaming of him, he wishes he was in your dreams stuffing his fat tongue so far up your little cunt that you'd be singing his name. Just say it's him that makes you twist and turn at night, that he's the one keeping you stuffed and happy- You dream of him, right? Just like Breg pants about you in his own. He can't count the nights he's woken up stiff and drooling, haunted by flashes of you bouncing on him, on your knees, bent in two for him- This is just like it!

You really must dream of him. And Breg doesn't want you to suffer in silence like he does, you clearly need help.

Humming quietly, the breeder scoots ever so close to your lightly squirming form, alert and cautious, though easily distracted by the smell of your hair up close. That nice fruity shampoo you use. Though, maybe in the future he'll recommend you stop using products with such intense fragrances, because he would much rather smell you- Your natural scent. It's irreplaceable, the most appealing of them all, much better than this odd citrus-y mask.

You start panting.

Ah yes, where was he?

Breg can't help himself, he would rather take things slow and touch every part of your delicate frame before moving to the crux of your situation, but he's already gotten ahead of himself with his prior fantasies, both cocks squeezing out his slit impatiently and wits burned to a crisp. Besides, if the monster wastes too much time lollygagging, you might actually wake up at some point. So the breeder bites his lip, sucking in an excited breath while he lets his hand drift to the front of your shorts. Down. Down further, shifting position to cup your precious pussy, applying the slightest pressure- Oh fuck yes, you're already wet, bucking onto his soft rubbing motions, giving the absolute pervert the best show of his life. You're so pent up! Hell, you're trying to close your legs around him! Could you cum like this? On his hand? In your shorts? Adorable!

Oh but that would be ruining things too soon. No can do. Not at all.

Breg looks down at his own deplorable state and groans. He's tired of this. He's tired of only ever getting to palm at you, of only ever getting the chance to stuff his face in your panties or jerk off over you while you sleep. He needs more. He can't take it, his patience has limits and he behaves so well when you're awake! Breg needs a reward, a little treat for trying so hard not to lose himself.

He's off the bed in a blink. Not to leave, mind you. He's not that considerate, much as Breg loves to think he's the exemplary mate. No, he's grinning like a greedy madman while his claws flirt with the hem of your loose shorts. It takes the patience of a saint, a trial of self-control, but the breeder is more than determined enough to painfully glide the cloth down, giving himself a show unintentionally. They're tossed aside carelessly. Oh, you're using those nice blue panties he likes! The one with stripes. So very cute. He's played with those before. They're taken off too, ever so slowly, Breg forcing himself to stop whenever you shift too much or make a disgruntled noise. Yes yes, sweet needy thing, he's here- Wait just a teensy second, will you?

The moment your lower half is bare, Breg can already feel strands of his own drool caking his chin, parting smooth legs ever so carefully to see your core flushed and wet for him. Maybe he should take a picture... No, why waste time? It's too risky, he's doing this now. Breg takes one last look at your uncomfortable, flustered expression and dips to take a greedy lick from bottom to clit- Moaning low and hard. God fuck, it's like a cocaine rush.

If Breg started asking to eat you out, just eat you out, would you let him? He wants his tongue glued to your cunt forever. The breeder's hands work clumsily over both cocks as he drowns in fantasies of you pulling him to his knees to service you while you're performing menial tasks.

Every single time your hips buck against his slow licks, Breg rewards the effort by whispering praise against your flesh and circling your button harder, hoping to hear more of those melodic, pleading cries. You're so expressive, even in your sleep. Would you beg him if you were awake? Would you pull his face down to grind your slick pussy all over it? Mark him, mark your mate, make him yours-

Oh ffffuck, moan again moan again!

Breg slurps his roving muscle back up so fast he nearly whacks himself in the head with it. This is not enough anymore. He wants... He wants so badly to be inside of you. That's the treat, that's his treat. Just a tiny bit, just for a second, only one minute of bliss inside your perfect pulsing walls! You'll understand, won't you? Of course you will, he's been so good, so well-behaved...

The pale monster pants shakily while he shifts pose, crawling atop you on the bed, sliding between your perfect doughy legs and letting his heavy cocks sit on your mound. Tiny thing. You're such a tiny creature. But you'll take him. Oh, you certainly will. He knows you can. Probably.

Time to find out.

Breg presses the very tip of his member to your saliva-slicked hole, whimpering in the back of his throat at the resistance he meets. You're gonna be so tight, you're gonna hug him so good, you're so hot and so perfect and-

Hhhngh holy shit-!

The breeder sees stars when his cock finally breaches your opening, and even if only a minute part of him is in, you're already gripping him like a vise with your heavenly hole. You must really be an angel! Breg makes an incredulous, panting laugh, rocking back and forth pitifully, wanting so much more, observing the way your skin stretches to welcome him further.

He could cum like this, barely sheathed inside his mate, second cock twitching and leaking, relieving his needy partner while they sleep. Breg grabs your legs in a stupor of arousal, ready to shove more of his fat member inside you when-

" ... Hu- B-BREG?! " Oh God. " WHAT THE FUCK? "

Every muscle in his body freezes. He let his arousal take over.

He's in such deep shit.

" H-Hi, honey...? "

[inkykeiji]

you be the match, i will be your fuse

fluffy anon said: dabi coming home after an absolutely horrid day at work and just needing to be absolutely BABIED by reader (i’m talking cuddling in bed, taking a bath with him and washing his hair then getting out just rubbing his back as he sleeps with his head on your chest)

genre: angst + fluff, laced with just a hint of smut (like two sentences)

notes: aaaah happy birthday dabi!!! this has absolutely nothing to do with your birthday but eeee ily | title cred: sure thing by miguel

warnings: 18+, implied/mentioned death of a child, one instance of implied past physical abuse, self-destructive behaviour + coping mechanisms, co-dependent toxic relationship

words: 3.5k

It’s thundering the day it happens, ferocious growls that rumble through your apartment—a tiny, quaint space you share with Dabi, full of faulty appliances and cracked linoleum—rolling, fluffy grey clouds blanketing the entire sky, swollen with restrained rain droplets as a storm brews within them. Little fingers idly toy with the yellowed pages of your worn pulp fiction novel, flipping through them and bending corners as your eyes search the angry sky, chewing on your cheek.

Dabi should’ve been home by now. It’s not like him to be late without calling, without letting his babygirl know what’s going on—he knows the way you worry, the way you overthink yourself into a frenzy, the way you’re so clingy and needy, teases you about it incessantly and tells you he thinks it’s cute—and a deep sense of dread takes root in the pit of your stomach, dark and bitter and unfurling, quickly spreading throughout the cavity of your chest.

His phone must be off—no, it’s never off, he doesn’t do that anymore, not since you stumbled into his life—his phone must be dead, your repeated calls growing increasingly frequent and urgent every time you’re greeted with the drone of his automatic voicemail.

Something’s wrong, horribly so.

It’s evident the moment he arrives home, scratched brass doorknob slamming against the wall, deepening the crater its left from past incidents of a similar manner.

It infects the air around him, hanging heavy and thick, its dense presence nearly suffocating. His shoulders slump under the pressure, the weight of whatever he’s carrying practically crushing, as he drags his crimson splattered boots through the front door, soles scraping against the cheap hardwood, bringing the putrid scent of charred flesh with him—his or someone else’s, you don’t know.

You swear you can almost see it, this—this thing, this aura, enveloping him in its haughty embrace as his chest heaves under a deep, controlled breath, pausing in the foyer as the door shuts behind him.

Bare feet pad against the floor, your legs moving without your explicit permission, drawn towards him in an almost instinctual manner, the desire to care for, to comfort, burning as it bubbles up in your chest, mixing with that intense sense of trepidation and invading your veins.

He permits you to wrap your arms around his torso as you nuzzle against him, body going rigid for a moment, still and stiff as marble, before he exhales again, melting into your embrace.

Several questions race through your mind at such a speed that they crash and clash together, becoming nothing more than incoherent jumbled lettering, tiny fingers curling in the fabric of his clothing as you try to pull him closer, nonsensical babbling spilling from your lips. A vacant ghost of a chuckle leaves his lips, nothing more than a simple huff of breath, and he squeezes you closer.

“Bad day?” the words are mumbled against his dirty t-shirt, what was once a pristine white now tarnished with ash and blood. You don’t get a response—you don’t expect one.

He doesn’t talk much, not on days like this.

He doesn’t need to.

Bad days—really bad, terrible, awful days such as this one—are surprisingly rare with Dabi. Sure, he’s had the typical ‘bad’ day before, where someone pisses him off, or he gets into a fight with his superior, but those bad days usually require railing you into your creaky, springy king-sized mattress until you’ve forgotten everything but his name and he’s fucked all of the anger and hatred out of his body.

They are not like this one. No, on days such as this, on days where he’s killed someone he deems to be innocent, someone who—like him—is a victim of heroism, he’s quiet, distant, unpredictable, bordering on unhinged, and you’ve learned to tread with extreme discretion.

But you don’t push, either, resolving to communicate through gentle touches, soft fingertips that run along his tense, broad shoulders and press into the hard coiled muscles, tender fingers that thread through inky tufts of hair, sapphire eyes closing as he hums and leans into the motion like a cat.

It’s only for a second, though, just a moment of weakness before he’s breaking out of your embrace, pushing past you and clearing his throat, glass door to the balcony sliding shut a moment later. 

You don’t follow. You know better than that now, a phantom sting in your cheek serving as a reminder, the resounding sharp sound of glass shattering as it’s hurled at the floor slicing through your mind with such viciousness it makes you wince. 

Instead, you sit. And you wait. Like you’re supposed to, like a good little girl, a book clutched between your quivering hands, unblinking eyes staring at the words on the page, nothing but incomprehensible symbols—lines and lines of black ink in meaningless shapes—as scorching sapphire loops through your mind.

Be a good girl, give him space, let him come to you. Be a good girl, give him space, let him come to you. Be a good girl. Give him space. Let him come to you.

It’s standard procedure, really.

And eventually, he does, comes back inside with an empty bottle of whiskey clutched in a hand, along with a crumpled package of cigarettes. You don’t know how long it’s been, muscles sore and joints aching from sitting in the same position for so long, eyes dry from staring at the same page, barely moving, barely breathing. His hand is bleeding, knuckles bruised and gleaming with sticky scarlet that’s still fresh and flowing, but it could be worse. It has been worse.

The harsh clink of the bottle against the kitchen counter makes you flinch, and he sighs, heavy and full of derision, eyes flicking up to glare at your side profile.

“I can hear you thinking,”

“You’re filthy, baby,” the words tumble past your lips, uncontrollable, involuntary, almost reflexive in your response, eyes snapping to his face and voice whiny, voice pleading. “Take a bath with me,”

And you can see it—can see it in the dark cobalt of his irises, what he needs, the very thing he’s fighting himself on, the very thing he’s fighting so hard against. Always so stubborn, so reluctant, so cautious.

Because, fuck, he used to be able to resist it, this pathetic ache for comfort—something that’s only managed to grow in your presence, that’s shifted and morphed from a dull smoldering to a raging fire, an insatiable longing for your fingers in his hair and your breath on his skin and your voice against his ear—a skill he’d been constructing, developing, perfecting, since he was thirteen years old. A skill you succeeded in shattering in the matter of a few measly months.

Because you—you’re different. And he hates it sometimes, he swears to the good Lord he does, but hating it doesn’t make it any less true. You break him down, you make him weak, you make him want, and the longer he spends around you, the more he finds that he doesn’t fucking care. And that’s irritating, that’s exciting, that’s terrifying, that’s new. 

Fury blisters his chest, his lungs, his throat as he holds your stare, jaw clenching twice. But you don’t falter, not like the rest of them, not like anyone else—everyone else. You never falter, always so eager to see the good in him, a snort leaving his nose at the thought. The good in him. Is there any good left in him? Was there ever any good in him in the first place? Are you the good in him, now? Does he care?

And he’s not sure he’ll ever understand it, but he’s beginning to realize that, maybe, he doesn’t have to. 

Maybe, it doesn’t matter. Maybe, it’s okay, if you love him, if he loves you.

Maybe.

It’s too much, and he can feel frustration stinging his eyes, long delicate eyelashes fluttering as he quickly blinks it away. Spears, sharp and cold, splinter your chest at the sight, but you know if you begin crying too, you’ll lose him. You know that if you begin showing what he considers weakness, he’ll pull away, even though this is what he so clearly needs most. 

So you steel yourself, swallowing hard against the pain collecting in your throat, will the tears away and force your body to stay calm, approaching him slowly as if he’s some sort of feral animal prone to lashing out. 

Apprehension is clear in his azure eyes, head tilting a little as they narrow, regarding you with skepticism, with suspicion. 

It’s bold, and dangerous, and—as far as Dabi’s concerned—fucking stupid, but you don’t care, determined to prove to him that you aren’t going anywhere regardless of how many tantrums he throws, no matter how many times he hurts you in his anguish. It’s almost desperate, really, this sheer need to prove to him that you aren’t scared of him, that irrespective of how soft he seems to think you are, you are strong, even if it’s in ways he could never understand, that you can be strong for him, when he needs it, that he can borrow some of your strength, if he needs to.

And that—that’s why he loves you. It hits him hard, as this realization always does, kicks him in the chest and knocks the breath out of him every time, and he’s not sure he’ll ever get used to it.

A tiny hand hangs in the air between the two of you, Dabi regarding the offer with a wary hesitance. Wiggling fingers attempt to entice him, earning a tiny smirk—a massive victory—as sapphire flits up to gaze at you through thick lashes, an eyebrow raised.

You match his expression, quirking an eyebrow of your own and nodding at your hand, speaking a moment later.

“Let me in, baby,” the words are barely above a whisper, but they’re so raw, filled with so much unadulterated love it hurts, pure and real and everything he’s never had before. “Let me help,”

And, God, it’s fucking overwhelming, how badly he wishes to give in to this unfamiliar compassion, how desperately he desires your affection, despite the malicious voice echoing off the walls of his skull, berating him for being so pathetic, so weak, so vulnerable.

But the urge to accept, to seek out consolation in you, wins, just as it always does, that nasty voice reverberating in his mind silenced the very instant his skin touches yours.

You let him make the last move, allow him to make that final decision entirely on his own accord, to grasp your hand in his, warm and rough, and pull you towards him, crushing you against his chest as he buries his face in your hair, eyes squeezed shut against that annoying burn of tears, chest stuttered with a hitched breath, air that gets caught in his throat as he chokes on the words he wants to say.

But he doesn’t need to say them. You already know.

“Come,” you murmur to him, fingers threading through the tufts of hair at the nape of his neck. “Let’s take a bath,”

     ✰          ✰          ✰

The bathwater stings your skin, just a hint too hot to be comfortable, but you say nothing as you settle onto his lap in the cramped little tub, encompassed by frothy bubbles, dainty scent of orange citrus tickling your nose.

Heated fingertips press into your hips as he finds comfort the only way he knows how to, in your precious little whimpers and broken moans of his name as he bounces you on his cock, so vigorously you’re positive you can feel him in your tummy, the pads of his fingers searing his prints into your skin.

It’s heady, it’s intoxicating, it’s addicting, heightened emotions both pleasant and unpleasant swirling together with the symphony of your cries and his grunts as the water you’re submerged in begins to bubble and boil, to crack and pop, sudsy liquid sloshing over the side of the tiny tub as he forces you to ride him, faster and faster and faster until you’re whining and convulsing around him, and he’s filling you with thick cum, cock throbbing aggressively as he spurts load after load into you.

After, as he leans back against the cold tile, residual droplets sizzling into steam as his heated skin touches them. Gentle fingers card between his hair, water cascading through onyx strands as it pours over his head from a worn plastic cup—a faded Darth Vader staring back at you as you rhythmically repeat your actions until the tresses stick to his forehead and cheeks, drenched and shining in the low light of the washroom.

Heavy lids obscure the most brilliant sapphire from you as shampoo is massaged into his scalp, slow and unhurried and thorough, every stroke, every comb through inky clumps easing the turmoil in his mind bit by bit, calming the storm that’s been raging inside of him for hours now. Deep hums rumble in his chest as your fingers continue their ministrations, your eyes trained on your motions. And you can feel it, the tension dissipating from his body with each circle of foam rubbed into his soft hair, shoulders finally beginning to relax as he subconsciously nuzzles into your touch, following it, longing for it, aching for more.

He shifts then, after you’ve rinsed the soap from his hair, manhandling you into a position between his thighs, bare chest pressed tightly against your back. You work hard to keep your body from tensing, forcing your breathing to stay even, to stay calm as you brace yourself for what’s coming next.

“He was eleven,” he says after several long moments of silence, voice low and trembling, hoarse and heavy with remorse. “This time.”

This time. That’s the third innocent civilian—innocent by his standards, at least—this month.

That’s the first time it’s ever been a child.

You don’t turn around to look at him, not yet—he isn’t finished—simply opting to lace your fingers through his and bring your joined hands to your lips, kissing each wounded knuckle, crude staples catching in the dim warm light of the tiny bathroom. 

You want to tell him it wasn’t his fault, even though it was. You want to tell him anything that’ll make him feel better, that’ll absolve the guilt so evidently gnawing away at his insides, even though you know there’s nothing you can say.

“What are—I don’t even—” his voice breaks and you feel his chest stutter against your back, feel him exhale harshly, breath cool on your damp shoulder, feel him swallow thickly as he tries again. Because as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, as much as he would never admit it, you know he needs release this from the confines of his mind—you know you’re the only person who can offer him such an outlet. “Why the fuck were there kids there in the first place? Huh? They shouldn’t—They shouldn’t have been there,”

Orphans are everywhere in this city, you murmur, lips moving against his rough skin. He knows. Orphans of heroes. He knows.

“I’m gonna kill Shigaraki, I swear to Christ. Sending us to a—a fucking place infested with fucking ch-children,” his fingers curl around yours, hand beginning to shake as it clutches you like a lifeline, like that guilt will devour him from the inside out, like he’ll disintegrate into nothingness, if he doesn’t. “I bet you he fucking knew—nah, I-I’m positive he did. Asshole only cares about himself, though. Doesn’t matter that—that the cause we’re supposed to be fighting for affects these stupid kids,”

You’re right, love.

The words leave your lips in a gentle breath, leaning your head back against his collarbone and staring up at him. Cobalt eyes stay trained on the cracked tile wall, jaw methodically clenching as his molars grind together, an attempt to quell the trembling of his chin, exhaling hard harsh breaths through flared nostrils.

��Whatever,” he huffs, voice still wavering and not nearly as self-assured as he wishes. “Th-That brat shouldn’t have been there in the first place,”

He shouldn’t have, you agree, finally squirming in his grasp, turning to face him, to straddle his hips again in the tight space of the tub. And he welcomes your affections readily this time, arms encircling your waist as he holds you tightly to him, blunt nails digging purple-tinged crescents into your flesh as he shoves his face against your neck, finally allowing those emotions he’s been fighting to leak from his eyes and absorb into your skin.

Little palms rub soothing circles into his back as he shudders against you, allowing him to empty his soul onto you as soft lips press chaste kisses to his damp hair, waiting until there’s nothing left, until his eyes are drained, azure glassy and bloodshot, nose twitching and red.

And after he’s done, when he finally pulls back, scrubbing aggressively at his nose as tiny sniffles hitch in his chest, gentle fingers begin to lather soap into his skin, washing away the dirt and grime and blood from the day. Fingertips carefully trace along the metal sutures decorating his body with immeasurable adoration, you whispering all of the things he so desperately needs to hear that he’d never dare to ask for, complimented by the tender touches that cleanse his soul with their unconditional love.

He’s bigger than you are, but that doesn’t stop you from trying to wrap him in a fluffy white towel, using another in an attempt to dry his hair as your hands move in shaggy motions, heart soaring in your chest when you pull a soft laugh from his lips, wet and wobbly and croaky, but a laugh nonetheless.

A mutual silence, gentle and comforting and stuffed full of an immense love, a special kind of love, a love words do not exist to explain, swathes your bodies as he allows you to dress him, pulling a ratty old band tee over his head and a pair of plaid PJ pants up his legs.

“You always look so cute in my clothes,” he rasps from his spot perched on the edge of the bed, glowing crystal eyes watching as you pull one of his t-shirts over your naked body.

A genuine bubble of laughter erupts from your throat as you climb into bed with him, immediately allowing him to latch onto you, to pull you towards him, to hold you close like his own personal plushie.

“Sleep,” you murmur as the two of you settle into a comfortable position, limbs tangled together, his head resting on your chest, fingers threading through his hair and then tracing down his neck, his back. “And then I’ll make you ramen,”

“The spicy kind?”

“Of course,”

I love you.

“Extra spicy?”

Laughing again, you feel his lips curve into a smile against your skin, grip around your torso tightening. “Extra spicy. Now, rest,”

More than anything else.

“With the little fish cakes?”

“Your favourite little fish cakes,”

More than words could ever tell you.

“And the pork belly?”

“And the pork belly,” you feel his chest rise with an inhale, hastily adding, “And those little cream puffs you love so much, from that dingy convenience store downstairs, for dessert. Now sleep, baby,”

He laughs, even though his vision is blurring, even though it comes out more strangled than anything else, because he doesn’t want to cry again, because his chest stings and aches and swells and warms, full of inexplicable emotions, feels like it’s going to fucking burst as it chokes and reinvigorates him all at once, and—God, he loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

Because even though he’s terrified beyond belief, he’s willing to try—just for you, only for you—as he continually realizes with each passing day that he isn’t sure what the fuck he’d do without you, now. Because you’re too entangled up in his life, too deeply embedded in his very soul, for him to ever remove you, now. Because as petrifying and unfamiliar as it is, he doesn’t want to, now.

Because even though he’s broken, irrevocably so, and you can’t fix him, won’t fix him, you’ll still stay, to hold those pieces so gently, so tenderly in your hands, you’ll still protect those fragments and keep them from shattering further, you’ll still give them the affection and devotion they need, the affection and devotion they deserve. Because you love every part of him, even the bad ones, even the shards with jagged edges that cut into the soft flesh of your palms every time you caress them.

Because you accept him wholeheartedly, flaws and all, and that’s—he’s never experienced anything like that before, this unlimited, unreserved, unquestioning love. And although he doesn’t know how to say this, isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to find the right words to communicate it, he’s beginning to learn that unfamiliar doesn’t always mean bad; that sometimes, it’s okay—it’s good—to be vulnerable. He’s beginning to learn that with you, in the warmth of your shitty little apartment, with the stove that only has two functioning burners and the fridge that’s perpetually too cold, he can be, without judgement, without fear, without trepidation.

Because you are his only salvation, and he wouldn’t trade this for the goddamn world.

[modern-vellichor]

Hiya! Could you do smth where the reader is masturbating in her room thinking about Bucky. When then Bucky sneaks in your room hiding from Sam chasing him, he hears you moaning his name and gets flushed but instead of leaving he decides to help you out and show you that the real thing is better than imagining it ? :)) and maybe his POV too ? ☺️ thank you dear. I’d really crave some soft Bucky smut atm.

hiya dolly!! enjoy this poorly written smut! its one am and I can't see properly :)

Warnings: 18+ smut, fem masturbation, slight teasing, edging, soft!bucky, fingering, explicit language, consenting king, this is Bucky’s world and we’re all just whores living in it.

Your hand slipped below the waistband of your underwear, fingers dancing playfully on your skin. Teasing. Your breath hitched in your throat. You rolled your underwear down your legs, throwing them in the general direction of your hamper.

Bucky tore through the compound, footsteps as loud as a stampede fell on deaf ears. He rounded corners dangerously fast, feet slipping precariously on tile. Sam yelled profanities at him but Bucky simply laughed as he escaped from Wilson's grasp. He stormed down the halls, your room was closest.

Your fingers played tenderly over your clit, you let out a breathy moan. Your other hand danced across the skin of your ribs gently. You gathered your slick on your fingers, dragging them slowly over the bundle of nerves as you moaned wantonly. You thought you were alone, you thought you had locked the door.

Bucky slipped into your room silently. He locked the door and snickered as he heard Sam sprint past your door. He gently padded through your room, reaching the little couch. You were nowhere to be seen.

You slipped one finger past your folds, into the greedy cavern of your cunt. Your mouth fell open, your head thrown back into pillows. You pumped in and out of yourself slowly, tenderly. You grazed ever so gently at the spot inside of you that made you see stars. A fresh wave of arousal seeped onto your sheets.

"Fuck, Bucky," you moaned, eyes shut as you allowed your fantasy to absorb you. You tried to imagine his calloused fingers inside of you instead of your own. You added a second finger and pumped with a little more fervour. His name fell from your lips again, this time a little louder. Passion filled your voice as your free hand wandered down to circle your aching clit.

Bucky heard his name echo through your room. He silently rose from his position on your couch, stalking towards your bed. As he rounded the corner you came into sight. Head thrown back, eyes screwed shut, mouth open wide as his name dripped from your tongue like a litany.

His eyes traveled down to where your fingers were knuckle deep in your own sopping cunt, and the others fondled your glistening clit greedily.

He discarded of his shirt and then crossed his arms over his bare chest. He enjoyed the free show as he hardened in his sweats. He waited until you were on the very edge, your orgasm leering over you as you screamed out for him. He answered.

"What's this?" and your orgasm was bring ripped from you as you hurried to cover up and began to apologise profusely. He chuckled darkly at your closing legs. “Please, don’t stop on my account,” he looked you up and down with a smirk.

“Bucky?” Your face scrunched in confusion. He slinked towards you, perching on the edge of your bed. He licked his lips, a lustful glint in his eyes. He settled between your legs and you couldn’t help the involuntary moan that bubbled from your chest.

“What, baby? Need me to help you cum?”

Still in shock, you gasped at his lewd words. His eyes sparkled with the idea of you. The baleful laugh that left his lips was full of sin and all things unholy. He hovered over you. You quivered, half in excitement and half in utter fear. He brought one hand to grip your chin, bringing your tearful gaze to his.

“Don’t cry, princess. I’ll make you feel good, can I do that?” His eyes sparkled softly.

The fact that he asked made your skin tingle with excitement. You had always been a little afraid of him, of the Winter Soldier that could still lurk. You had always expected him to take what he’s given and then keep going. He wiped the tears from your cheeks and you nodded eagerly.

His lips pressed against yours, gentle at first. He worked you open, distracting you from the metal touch trailing to the apex of your thighs. You let out a profane moan, near pornographic. Bucky smiled at you. 

He stared at you. Your eyes open in shock as two, unnaturally thick and long fingers slipped into you. You jumped at the feel of cool metal in your hot, dripping pussy. Your mouth opened but you made no sound.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” he mumbled into your skin, pressing gentle, reassuring kisses to your neck. “I’ve got you, I’m right here.” 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close to you. Your breath came out in pants as Bucky began to work you open. He pumped his fingers gently, curling against the spot that made you go wild with each addictive stroke. His cool thumb against your clit made your hips buck. You clawed at his back, but it only spurred him on.

He would work you to the edge, whisper reassuring words into your ears and then pull his fingers away. He would sit back on his heels and smirk as you whined and writhed and begged. And once your high had slipped away and you were utterly fed up, he would crawl back up your body and return to his sinful ministrations. He did this until you were a babbling mess. 

The scent of your arousal filled the room. The air was thick and stifling. You had soaked the sheets beneath you and you hadn’t even cum yet. You cried incoherently as Bucky worked you over with his fingers. He had abandoned his gentle demeanor for something rough and animalistic. 

You ground against his hand. His thumb rubbed harsh circles on your clit as his fingers curled relentlessly against your g-spot. Your nails pressed half moon shapes into the skin of his shoulders. You begged with reckless abandon. The shame of the situation has long since disappeared.

“You gonna cum this time, hmm?” Bucky cooed as he began to work faster, he picked up a near violent pace. You nodded eagerly as you moaned wantonly.

He encouraged you softly, a welcome contrast to the pace between your legs. Your mouth opened to scream as your body went stiff. Bucky pressed a bruising kiss to your lips. He swallowed your moans eagerly. His pace relented to something soft and loving as you came down from an atomic high. You were sure you had blacked out.

Bucky pulled his drenched fingers to his lips. He sucked them clean, releasing them with a lewd pop.

“Wasn’t that so much better than you had imagined, huh?” He cooed as he pulled your still trembling form into his chest. “If you were so desperate, you should have just asked.”

[aminiatureworld]

Return to Me

Characters: Albedo, Scaramouche, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 4,538

Warnings: Violence, Minor villain death

Premise: What is it like when the one you most adore becomes a stranger? And how’re you supposed to pick up the pieces?

In which the reader loses their memory.

Author’s Note: Just a note that this is not how actual amnesia works, and if you’re experiencing memory loss please contact your doctor.

That being said the amnesia is really good for angst and pining so how could I resist? It’s one of those guilty pleasure tropes I like to read and think of so I hope I did it justice.

Albedo

Albedo loved two things in this world, alchemy and you. They were what kept him centered, what kept him sharp and curious and full of life. So how could it be that one of those things should cause him such great unhappiness, and that said unhappiness should be the other’s suffering?

It had been a dangerous experiment, from the beginning Albedo was well aware of that. Testing whether or not elemental energy contained traces of elements via water could yield incredibly useful results about magic’s interaction with the ordinary world. But it could also backfire massively. Noxious gases, explosions, anything was possible.

But he’d thought he was prepared. After all you two had hiked all the way to the edges of Windrise specifically so no one would be around, and Albedo had even put up a barrier with the express intention of keeping anyone from getting hurt. It should’ve been fine, everything should’ve been fine, and yet when the Electro Slime condensate hit the water and the explosion knocked you both off your feet, slamming into the ground three meters from where you’d originated, he could only wonder how things had gone so wrong.

Picking himself up after a few agonizing seconds, every bone and muscle in his body stiff and aching from the sudden impact, Albedo crawled over to where you lay. To his horror you appeared to have hit a rock, and your head was bleeding slightly. Cupping your face in his hands the alchemist rasped out your name. The relief he felt when you opened your eyes was only momentary, replaced by shock and a sense of utter emptiness when you made out a groggy: “Who are you?”

Electro slime elements appear to contain no small amount of Chlorine, which, combined with only the hydrogen as a result of the electricity splitting the water molecules apart, caused an explosion. Although normally Albedo might’ve been thrilled by the discovery of an element only found mixed in the natural world, now he could only look upon that experiment with a raw sort of hatred that he hadn’t known he’d possessed. The ice around the alchemist’s heart had been burned away, and now all that remained was a burnt and shriveled up little thing, determined to make up for the lack of emotions by throwing its owner into the pits of despair.

Albedo spent all his time at first in the hospital and then in the apartment you two shared. You’d made an offhanded remark about how empty it looked, and Albedo had smiled awkwardly, not having the heart to tell you he could barely look at a piece of science equipment without a deep sense of loss. The doctors had said the effects should fade with time, but Albedo knew that there had been magic in the air, and a sick, twisted part of himself jeered that he was holding onto false hope.

It didn’t help that Albedo had been absolutely unprepared for the reality in which you couldn’t remember a thing about him, or your relationship. Never again would you rush up to him as you had before, excitement in your eyes and questions in your head. Memories of gathering crystal flies in the sunset and staying up all night, notes on old ruins swapped with sweet kisses and phrases that meant nothing at all, the beach where Albedo had sketched you for the first time and you had given him your first gift, all that was nothing to you, the stories of a stranger told by another.

“The first gift you gave me was a flower preserved in a solution of Cryo.” You said, words awkward and unsure in your mouth. Albedo knew that you weren’t really remembering it.

“That’s right,” he replied, voice light and calm, trying desperately to keep the despair from showing on his face. “It was a Cecilia. You said that it looked as if it was made of snow.”

“It sounds beautiful,” you replied, speaking more to yourself than to him, “I wish I could remember it.”

“You will someday, I’m sure of it.” He smiled, but the movement felt like too much effort to keep up and soon his face collapsed once more into an expression of melancholy. As if noticing this you smiled slightly in turn.

“Does it still exist?”

“Yes,” Albedo gazed out the window that faced you two. Beyond the buildings, only a few streets away lay his laboratory, locked away and gathering dust, “it does, but I cannot get it right now.”

“Oh,” you seemed at a loss for words, glancing down towards your hands, “that’s alright. I’d rather remember it on my own anyways.”

Albedo said nothing to this. Moving to place his hand on yours he paused. He was a stranger to you. This little act of comfort, all the little gestures he’d gotten so used to were now impossible. Dropping his hand to his side he moved to get you a glass of water, desperately trying to ignore the pain burning in his chest and in his heart.

_____

“Are these yours?”

Albedo placed the bag of groceries he’d just gotten on the floor. Moving over to where you were sitting, you were taking a break from adventuring until you remembered more, a decision made by the doctors for fear you’d forgotten how to control your vision. You had recently moved on from mostly sleeping to exploring your once familiar home, and now you sat curled on the couch; in your lap was a familiar book. Leaning over Albedo glanced at the page you were on.

“Yes, they’re mine. I like to sketch in my free time.”

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured, running your hand reverently over the slightly stained page, “I can see the different shades in the mountain, even if it’s only a pencil drawing.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Albedo smiled to himself, the memory of that day offering him some solace, “it was quite a difficult thing to draw.”

“It had an odd name.” You scrunched your nose slightly in concentration, an expression so cute Albedo could help but let out a huff of bittersweet laughter.

“Dragonspine. That’s the name of the mountain.” Turning to put the groceries away he paused when you spoke once more.

“No. That wasn’t it. It was something else. V-Vida something.” Albedo watched, incoherent thoughts and emotions clouding his mind as you retraced the circles you’d been making on the page beforehand. Suddenly your fingers stopped and you looked up. “Vindagnyr, yes that’s it! There’s a fortress up there, a, what did you tell me they were called, a domain. And that’s the name of it.” You closed your eyes once more. “Something happened there, something to do with you. I can’t remember it, if I was there or if you told me about it before, but something’s there. Something important.”

Albedo felt as if he must’ve been dreaming. The same sort of emptiness that had filled him at the beginning of this catastrophe was there, but this time there was something else, the bitter feeling of a hope that he couldn’t be sure of filling his lungs and his mouth. He turned back towards you, teetering forward as he tried to grasp the situation.

“Yes. That’s right. Vindagnyr. The name it had before it was essentially destroyed by Durin. I met the Traveler there, a week before I met you.” He sat down on the chair adjacent to where you were sitting, memories filling his mind. “It was also the first place we performed an experiment together.”

“I’d like to go there again then.” Your face was one of open triumph and excitement, and there was something in your eyes that Albedo thought he might never see again, a sort of recognition that he thought had been lost, “I know you haven’t been to your work once. I suppose it would make sense, considering what happened, but would you take me there?”

“Of course.” Albedo’s voice was sure and solid.

“Even though I might not remember more.”

“Even then.”

You reached your hand out to the alchemist, and after a second Albedo took it. He ran his thumb over the back of your hand slightly, and you made no move to withdraw, instead squeezing his palm slightly.

You had remembered something. It wasn’t everything of course, and there was no guarantee that there wouldn’t be heartbreak up ahead, wouldn’t be frustration and sorrow and moments when hope seemed very far away. But as long as moments like this existed, Albedo could hang on. The anger and despair that had burned inside him remained, but now something stronger resided there.

And that was hope.

 Scaramouche

“Do you see them?” You whispered, raising your head slightly above the rock you were hiding under. Scowling Scaramouche made a cutting gesture with his hand.

“Yes I see them. And get back down!”

Although his tone of voice was harsher than usual you smiled a smile of understanding as you lowered yourself once more out of sight. Scarmouche took a deep breath in response, trying to control the coiling tension that sat in his stomach. Today’s mission was an unenviable one, made only worse by your presence, for Scaramouche knew these were no ordinary enemies, and though you could take care of yourself just fine there was a nagging in his head that refused to be silenced.

Your targets sat encamped up ahead, completely nondescript in appearance, although that was hardly surprising of deserters of the Fatui, especially ones of such high caliber as them.

Scaramouche’s expression twisted into a scowl of concentration once more as he thought about the moment when you two had received your orders to get rid of those who knew of the dealings of the army of the Tsaritsa, and who were certainly willing to dispose of said secrets for the right price. Although they were no doubt traitors of the worst sort and worth less than dirt, there was still something unpleasant about fighting people who had once been comrades. You’d mused it was because of the bonds of mutual struggle and culture, but Scaramouche suspected for himself it was more the annoyance of fighting people who were at least somewhat trained.

Scaramouche gave the signal and you crept once more out from behind your hiding spot. Manifesting your polearm Scaramouche could already see the well worn metal steaming. This battle was going to be bloody.

At first everything had gone well enough, being hidden on a ledge about the camp you’d managed to do a great deal of damage, made easier by their surprise and ill planned position. However things quickly began to turn sour. The ex-Fatui might not’ve had the equipment of their army days, but they retained the ruthlessness that had once made them so efficient and now made them so dangerous.

There was an odd smell running through the valley, the smell of electricity and something burning. Scaramouche stood in front of a man who had certainly once been a vanguard and a woman who appeared to have been a Cryo mage. Sweat coated their faces but Scarmouche felt cold with the thrill of battle. Electricity crackled to life in his hands and already bits of electricity were dancing on the charred and dinky armor of his enemies. What were they thinking sending a Harbinger against a pathetic group such as this? It was laughable, really.

“Such a pity that members of such an elite force are going to die like dogs.” He drawled. The woman in front of him gritted her teeth, summoning a trail of icicles which Scaramouche easily leapt over. “Is that truly your worth?” He laughed, before the calm that always came with killing washed over him. “Your best is hardly worth my worst.” Gathering electricity, Scaramouche prepared for the final, searing strike.

The man in front of him smiled a sickening sort of smile, the kind that one made only when they knew that it was the end, and then it all went wrong.

The sound of your voice was muffled by the energy approaching Scaramouche from behind, as the outline of a transparent sort of figure clipped his vision. Quickly whirling around Scaramouche was unprepared for the third ex-Fatui member, an agent who had apparently learned his skills well, bearing down on him. Raising his hands, the Harbinger was suddenly thrown aside by an unknown force. Fire made contact with lightning and the ground exploded.

Fighting to retain consciousness Scaramouche was aware of the sickly smell of burning flesh. Blinking away the confusion he glanced at the carnage around him. The agent lay haphazardly, face half obscured by a mass of flesh that must’ve once made him up but now seemed out of place. Behind him the other agents had hardly feared better, and the charred visage of mangled flesh replace what had once been arms, legs, necks. It was an unsettling view, and though Scaramouche couldn’t say it was the worst thing he’d ever seen it still left a vile taste in his mouth. How quickly a fragile little human could come undone, made into that which was unrecognizable.

Finally he fixed his gaze towards you, relieved to find that there was no apparent wounds, although that perspective shifted slightly when viewing your hands, which were covered with welts. Your fire must’ve mixed with his electricity, causing an overload of energy, and you two lying in the eye of the storm. Scaramouche looked at his own hands, and realized they were similarly reddened. Ignoring the pain he shook your shoulder. “Get up.” He let out when you finally opened your eyes.

However it was apparent very quickly that something was wrong. You eyes held no recognition in them, instead they seemed as blank and transparent as a mirror. Looking at him you furrowed your brow slightly.

“Where…” your gaze drifted towards the scraps of humanity around you and then there was nothing but screaming and a wetness on Scaramouche’s cheeks that felt suspiciously like tears.

“You need to get back to work.” Signora’s voice betrayed no sense of pity. Scaramouche was glad for it, he wouldn’t’ve been able to forgive her if there had been.

“I doubt those imbeciles need me for something as simple as the daily regime. If they do it’s their fault, not mine. I owe them nothing.”

“You owe them your work, it’s your duty as a Harbinger,” Signora’s eyes narrowed, “or have you forgotten that in your folly.”

“I’ve forgotten nothing!” Scaramouche snapped, eyes boring into those across from him. “I am well aware of what my obligations are and what they aren’t. As I said there is nothing of importance fir me right now, and I don’t wish to waste away my time with trivial matters.”

“What would our dear Tsarina think of such words,” Signora let out a dramatic sigh. Raising the glass she was drinking from to your lips she paused, “you best be careful. I cannot shelter you from your folly forever. Either you learn how to deal with this… unfortunate incident and your work, or I shall have that person thrown out into the snow.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Scaramouche’s tone was like acid and he felt for the moment as if letting go of himself wasn’t such a crime, for now there was no one to chastise him about it anymore.

“I’m warning you. Don’t forget what happens to those who cannot fulfill their duty to the Tsarina,” Signora paused, a cruel smile gracing her face, “or have you forgotten who caused this in the first place.”

It was all Scaramouche could do not to set the tent ablaze.

“Get. Out.” He commanded. Signora sighed, shaking her head and downing her drink in one go before walking out and leaving Scaramouche with the feeling of falling apart.

_______

“Do you sing?”

Scaramouche lifted his head at the sound of your voice, surprised by the question. You hadn’t said much since the aftermath of the incident, and Scaramouche hadn’t forced you to. After all it was one of the things he’d first appreciated in regards to you, you’d never forced him to talk when he didn’t want to. Now he felt the need to afford you the same courtesy, knowing that intelligence still lay behind those eyes even if recognition had disappeared. Now he put down the document he was reading, smiling wryly and shaking his head.

“No. Why would you think that?”

“Because that’s what you’re called isn’t it? Your name, one of your names. The… the Balladeer?” You said it as if it was a question, and perhaps it was. Scaramouche couldn’t think however, couldn’t think over the rushing in his ears.

“Where did you hear that?”

“I don’t know. I just heard it. Or I remembered it. But that’s who you are, isn’t it?” You smiled, and for a moment Scaramouche could almost imagine life was as it was before. “Can you sing for me?”

“No.” This conversation had happened before.

“Fine,” you shook your head, “but one day I want you to sing for me, when I remember everything, then I want you to sing for me.”

“Fine.” Scaramouche managed to get out, afraid of the rising emotions he felt, afraid they might break through his voice.

“You’re missing work, aren’t you.” You continued on, gaze piercing through him. “I can tell, I can hear people whispering about it when I go out. I’m not supposed to be here, and you’re supposed to be working. If what you told me really is what happened, you should work.”

“Ridiculous,” Scaramouche scoffed, “I can manage my own affairs. Besides,” his voice grew softer, as if he didn’t want to reveal himself to you. You were too familiar, but still a stranger, and a part of him hid behind the walls he built up around everyone else, the walls only you could climb over. “Besides, who would look after you.”

“I can look after myself.” Your answer was as confident as it had always been. “I have to, since I trust what you’ve told me about myself, about this work, this world.”

“It was you not looking after yourself that lost you your memory!” He was shouting by now, he was shouting but he couldn’t stop because if he stopped shouting he’d be crying.

“Perhaps. But it’s not looking after me to end up like the people we fought. So go to your work. And maybe one day when you come back, I’ll remember.”

He couldn’t say no to you, eventually you won. It had been that way since the beginning, you tearing down his bluffing and his empty promises. Perhaps it was what he appreciated most about you.

Every moment Scaramouche was away from you felt like he was betraying a part of himself, a part he had hid for so long. But you were right, just like before, and just like before you’d won him over with your honesty, your refusal to back down, and your view of the Harbinger for what he truly was, someone who was deep down truly afraid. That part of you remained, somehow without memory and without certainty it remained.

And if that part of you remained, well maybe some day the rest would return.

 Xiao

“Xiao look!” You let out a cry of delight as you threw yourself off the tall stone mountain, glider unfurling in a vibrant waves of color as you began circling in the air. Xiao scowled from the tree in which he was perched, unwilling to humor you in your folly.

“You’re going to be injured.” Although he hadn’t meant for you to hear that you still laughed at the comment, shaking your head as you once more carved shapes into the sky.

“It’s a lovely day for gliding! The air is so fresh and the breeze is just enough to keep you upright!”

“It’s too windy.” Xiao’s voice was flat. This was foolish, what you were doing was foolish. He could feel the currents, feel their laughter, their excitement. They were surely up to no good.

But you weren’t paying attention to that, instead you were gliding about as if you were born to fly. It was a beautiful sight, Xiao had to admit. The beauty of those immersed in what they loved. And what Xiao loved was you.

“Come on Xiao!” You called out. “Come fly with me!”

“No.”

“Oh c’mon, I know you can do it!” Screwing your face into a pout when the adeptus once more shook his head you shrugged. “Your loss.”

Xiao knew you were disappointed, but he couldn’t help it. It seemed somehow out of place for him to join you in whatever you were doing. Besides, he needed to keep track of the currents, just in case.

You dove down for a moment, and Xiao felt his stomach clench, knowing full well what you were doing, but unable to keep the worry out of his mind. And yet then you were flying up, up, up, up and though Xiao wanted to scold you, wanted to tell you to come down once more, he was rapt, in awe. You were too beautiful, and it stole his breath away.

A gust of wind came blowing through the stone monoliths and as your wings buckled and you plummeted towards the ground Xiao found that he was truly unable to breathe at all.

Perhaps it was a blessing that you were unconscious. Then you didn’t have to feel the way Xiao held onto your shoulders as if he’d never let you go, the way he gasped for the air he was supposed to be in charge of, the way his eyes were devoid of everything but fear. You hadn’t fallen so far, he told himself, you hadn’t fallen so far it was fatal. You were breathing, you were going to be fine. But he found himself unable to believe those words. If you had said them he would’ve, but there you were, a crumpled mess and he barely able to process the world around him.

Crashing onto the Inn balcony, not caring about the odd looks thrown his way, Xiao made his way upstairs. You were going to be fine. You were.

If only he could believe himself.

“They’re out of danger now.” Verr Goldet’s voice was calm, unnaturally so, and Xiao only softened a little at the knowledge, sure something had gone wrong. “But…” the innkeeper continued, confirming all of the fears Xiao had been secretly nursing.

“But.”

“But there seems to be a problem with their memory. They were very confused at first, unable to remember things such as Liyue, their duty as adventurer, this place, things like that. At first we thought it would clear, but now it seems that isn’t so. Their memory might be affected for quite a while.”

“I want to see them.” Xiao brushed past Goldet, determined to help you if this was to be your fate. But Goldet’s next words stopped him in his tracks.

“Xiao, they can’t remember you.”

At first there was the feeling of falling. And then, as Xiao vanished, there was nothing.

______

At first Xiao was determined to stay away completely. It hurt too much, hurt to think about what had happened. At first he’d managed to survive on anger, anger at the world, at you not listening to him, at himself for letting it happen. But quickly the anger faded and what replaced it was a loneliness so vast he couldn’t believe that he had managed to survive in such a way before he met you.

Still he didn’t want to go, didn’t want to see you as you were now, unaware of him and perhaps destined to remain so. How cruel fate was. It took everything he knew from him and just when he began to live again it took that to. It took away your memory, your livelihood, and for what? To punish him? It seemed unfair, so unfair.

So he’d stayed away, afraid that something would happened again to you if he were to show himself again. But the knowledge of such emotions as love is something that doesn’t fade, and Xiao found himself unable to continue on as before, finding the pain too great. He had to see you. At least to say goodbye, he had to see you. It would be unfair not to do so.

The moon was full, casting a silvery light on the landscape. Xiao drifted over towards the roof of the Inn, thankful that he was invisible, so as to not have to experience the moment your eyes reached him but you didn’t.

Your silhouette appeared quickly enough in the darkness. You seemed somewhat preoccupied, and yet there was a purpose to your step, made all the more evident by the Qingxin grasped firmly in your hand, a brethren of the other flowers which lay scattered on the railing.

“I know you’re there.” At first Xiao jumped, thinking perhaps you’d somehow managed to sense him. However he calmed down once you continued, it appeared you weren’t truly talking to him.

“I know you’re there. And I wish you’d come back,” You continued, gazing out on the landscape around you. “I don’t remember your name you see. They told me your name of course, but I wish they hadn’t, I wanted to remember it myself. It must be why you left, of course you didn’t want to see me like this. If what they said was true…” you shook your head, “I know it was true. I know that it had to have been true, that I cared for you, that you cared for me. I know because I miss you.” Xiao felt his heart pound in his chest, so loud he could barely hear you.

“I miss you so much. Isn’t that odd? I don’t know you anymore and yet I miss you. It’s as if something is missing. I mean, of course something is missing but it’s more than just the memories themselves. It’s the feeling. Like going outside without a coat on. I miss you, even if I can’t miss you because I can’t remember you I do, I miss you dearly.”

You paused, placing the flower on the railing next to the rest.

“I hope you see the flowers before they fade,” you called out softly to the dark, “and I hope one day I can look at you again. I remember you had such lovely eyes. I’d like to see them again to be sure.”

For a moment Xiao didn’t move, frozen by all he’d heard. But the minute you turned to leave he was already there, bound by the feelings he had for you, by the knowledge that continuing as he had been would kill him, would only hurt you.

“Do you remember me?” It was a silly question to ask, but he had nothing else to say. You turned towards him and smiled softly. It was true, your eyes didn’t recognize him. But there was something in your gaze nonetheless.

“Xiao.” You whispered, and the yaksha knew that he’d never be able to leave again.

[abbynx]

Dating Ghiaccio Headcanons

Genre: Romantic, Headcanons

Warning: Swearing

A/N: My brain cannot shut up about him

~ This boy, oh boy, quite the temperamental and if not, he is distant. Gotta say, you're quite ballsy to get even get near him. It's like approaching a wild cat if I'm being honest, sharp claws and all. So you have to approach this situation with great mindfulness, it will take time for him to open and warm up. So what's happening in this love story is a slow burn.

~ Introduction consists of him acknowledging you for a second before returning to his cold and distant self. Don't worry, it's just him being him, he doesn't hate you.

~ Winning him over is a tricky part. Because you see, you need to go with the flow and put an effort, but not too much that will make you come across as an over-eager creeper. You don't want that.

~ He is taken at the fact that people will listen to him and just listen and not protest. He wants to feel unjudged and valid and with you doing that, you're doing a great job, you're making him feel things.

~ Okay this boi is one stubborn nut. Ghia having his tsundere™ moment right there. Let's admit, this guy is most definitely touched starved and in need of attention, but he is going to debate the hell out of you to deny that.

~ Let's admit, this guy has issues and one of them includes touch starvation and fear of commitment. So I really stress the fact of taking it slow. But anyways, this guy— ohohoho, anyone who gives him a semblance of kindness that looks like flirting will have him fall. He just doesn't want to admit it even to himself.

~ Once you warmed his cold little heart, he wants you to know he wants to take it slow. Respect that, come on its bare minimum in a relationship so anyways, he doesn't really like to rush into things— only fools do that.

~ So, affections are often private and even if no one is looking, he's still one shy motherfucker who will overheat whilst subconsciously freezing the whole room when he is thinking about you in his arms or himself in your arms. Do yourself a favour, sate the guy's need for physical contact by pulling him into bed and seduce him to have a good sleep schedule.

~ But if you're not really fond of physical touch, he will respect your boundaries and try to keep his distance. Being honest, with you by his side is enough to quell his worries and doubts.

~ Speaking of sleep, at first he was reluctant to sleep at the same bed as you, but then he started to get irritable and uncomfortable on his bed without a semblance of your warmth beside him— hence now you're on his bed

~He is one stiff motherfucker, he still scowls even though he is sleeping. Like dude, fucking calm down, you'll develop wrinkles faster. But legend has it that when he is being cuddled by you his face softens for once.

~ If you move around your sleep, good fucking luck if you can move with his vice grip of an embrace. He will mumble incoherence if you try to move around, nuzzling his face on whatever surface of your body his head is on.

~ He is quite hesitant to be openly vulnerable to you. It's just that there are a lot of factors— there's the rival gang who might swoop in and there's you, you whom holds his heart and can easily break it. So he bottles up his emotions, until one day he breaks down to you about this issues of his. It's best to stand by him and just allow him to let it all out.

~ If there's something he fears, it's isolation. Being alone is serene, but loneliness is a thing he has been combatting ever since he can remember, but at the same time, he is wary of everyone and thinks they're out to get him. It's a very contrary fear and he hates it and finds it so fucking stupid.

~ He wants someone trustworthy to stay by his side and hold his hand through every tumultuous tremors that might make him stumble and fall. Someone who will not judge him and break his trust. And there you are, the winner of his heart because you did just that.

~ After letting that all out, he became more open with you.

~ PDA is a big no-no for him... But he is willing to hold your hands because "You're a slow ass motherfucker, I'm holding your hand to match you with my pace" but yeah, whatever you say, Ghia 😘

~ Even in private, he is one shy bastard. His kisses would often land at the corner of your lips because he decided to chicken out at the last minute to land one on your lips. So do yourselves a favour, sate the guy's desire to kiss you by taking initiatives.

~ Ghiaccio's coworkers LOVES getting a reaction out of him and once they found out he is dating you, they waste no time to try to pull some moves on you to set off the ticking time bomb that is Ghia. They don't really mean it, it's just in the name of mean-spirited fun. So yes, there goes ice ice baby grinding his teeth at the sight of you being flirted on by his co-workers.

~Though, what's funny is that when people who are barely matching the likeness of your calibre trying to pull moves on you does make him scoff at the audacity.

~ Okokok but 👉👈 car ride dates

~ Ohohoho, saying I love you... You see, Ghia is a bit iffed at the thought of saying it because, aren't his actions enough to state his love for you? But something is nagging at him to say it just in case, but he is one stubborn fucker. So he is stuck at a back and fourth between wanting to tell you he loves you or he doesn't have to say it. It's what bugs him at night. Forget about shower thoughts, this what keeps him up at night.

~ Just, okay okay, you mean so damn much to him than he lets on and he hopes you know that he is willing to take a spike in his neck if it means to keep you safe and guarded. He loves you so much, at the thought of you he cools down and that is how much you influenced him to change from his ways. He learned that being slow at things isn't bad at all.

~ "Hey, dumbass... I... I love you, okay? I'm not good with words, let alone lovey dovey poetic bullshit pulled from Shakespeare's ass, but you mean the world to me. You make me want to just sit and do nothing with you, and I can go on and on about nonsensical bullshit while you listen and I'd like nothing more than to spend my time with you."

[tommyspeakycap]

request for jack grealish one where he’s really upset over something and you’re there with him to comfort him, lots of physical contact being his love language and you being the only person he likes touching his hair ?

Comfort

You knew from the very second he walked through the door that annoyed would be an incredibly generous word to describe the emotions running through the Brummie boys head. You grimace to yourself, shoulder raising closer to your ears at the sound of the brand new front door slamming heavily behind him with a curse at the fact he couldn't get his shoes kicked off just right the first time he attempted it in the foyer.

The first game was a loss and just about all he'd gotten for the past few days was hate, stress, hate and some more fucking stress. He was exhausted. From Mykonos to Birmingham to get a bag full of clothes so he could meet Villa in London before eventually travelling to Manchester, his sleep schedule has been completely messed up and even when he did have bursts of time where he should have been sleeping, he had been laying awake scrolling through countless tweets criticising his every single move. Add to that the fact his body was exhausted from international duty and that he had wanted nothing more than to curl up by your side and let his worries melt away like he had last gotten to do nearly three whole months ago.

He doesn't know you're here. To the very best of Jack's knowledge, you were still home in Birmingham and he would probably have to broach the conversation of whether or not you'll be joining him up anytime soon, if ever. He lets out a frustrated grunt, but you know Jack better than anyone else and there's the thick sheen of his heart aching tears existing beneath his frustration.

"Hey baby."

His head snaps around to land his eyes on you the second your sweet voice meets his buzzing ears. The echos of Etihad still burn a bit of his hearing away for now, but he knows it'll return to normal by the end of the night. The tears that had previously been kept on his lash line, pushed back by his will not to breakdown for fear he might not be able to stop if he starts are now past the last line of defence, streaming over his cheeks as he crossed the floor at a pace that would send his fife rating into surefire question.

Your body makes an involuntary 'oof' as he crashes against you, his arms so tight around your body as he stops you from stumbling back with the force of his incoming hug. You don't think he's ever actually held you that tightly before, never with such dire necessity, with such urgency for you to be as close to him as he could get you.

The hair that's been allowed to fall loose from the band he'd earlier had it tied back in tickles the back of your neck as it dangles over the exposed skin. He mumbles something almost incoherent about how much he's missed you into your neck, pepping chaste kisses where his lips have landed against you in this hug. You wished you could enjoy that, but the dampening that has begun to occur over the shoulder that his head is above reminds you of the pain he must be in.

Leaving your childhood club is one thing, but leaving it when everybody else seems to think he's a monster for it is a whole different kind of agony. There were just too many emotions for people to see the kind of things Jack had given for the club and the huge opportunity he had left them with his legacy and with the money they copped for his record breaking sale.

"It's okay, Jacky." You coo, tightening your arms around you as he attempts one tighter squeeze to force the tears back into him. It's a futile attempt, his arms loosening but never dropping away from you as he squeezes his eyes shut and lets those sobs shake his body. "I got you, baby. I've got you."

There was such a mix of emotions running through him that made him feel like the world had just pushed him to the ground and taken the perfect opportunity to give his body a good kicking. First final for England in 55 years, then they lost in a penalty shootout he didn't even get to be a part of after a game he barely got to play in. Then a holiday he couldn't take with you because of work commitments and a sudden coworker needed sooner maternity leave meaning your holiday was completely eliminated. As if those things didn't dampen his spirit, all that transfer business had gone down and it was finally all hitting him.

His exhaustion had caught up, an inevitable burn out that could be messed only by the presence of you in his life. Some of this tears that stream down his cheeks and pool on the grey material of your t-shirt are ones of joy and relief for finally having you back in his arms again for the first time in far too long of a time. Jack vows he will never ever spend that amount of time without you again. Never will he let so much time pass before he gets to hold you, kiss you and tell you face to face how much he truly loves every single thing about you.

"You're my rockstar, you know." You announce, seemingly out of the blue ones his body wracking sobs had died to smaller sniffled and period tears streaking down onto you. "I've literally never been prouder of anyone in my life ever. Not only did you fucking smash the euros, but then you stayed so sweet and so amicable during such a difficult process. You handled everything so well, J. I'm so proud or you and I'm so, so happy for you." You promise, pushing him back so you can take his blotchy, tear streaked face in your head. The expanse of that face is coved in your kisses, pecked all over the surface until he's giggling like the Jack that you know so well, his laugh the most contagious sound you've ever been lucky enough to get to hear on a daily basis. "And I'm so lucky that you let me share this journey with you." You finish, landing your lips softly and perfectly onto his with a warmth and love he had been desperately missing out on for those last vital few weeks of his break.

"S' our journey," Jack mumbles in response against your lips, pulling back every so slightly so he can get a proper good look at the face he had missed so much in person. Your cute quirked eyebrows and confusion tainted eyes make him smile before he elaborates. "Not my journey, it's our journey together. All of this, just the two of us."

His words make your heart sore, flying up onto the space above you in pure glee. You had to admit there was a mild element of fear wondering if he would want you here or if he'd maybe be wanting fresh start, but that was certainly not the case for Jack.

"I love you," he says as you feel him tuck you right back into his chest with a content hum. "I love you too, but you need a wash."

Jack's laughter bellows loudly from his chest beneath your ear at your lightly playful and yet very truthful statement.

"I ran you a bubble bath for you. Bathroom's huuuuge." Your eyes are full of wonder like he thought they might be when he would get the opportunity to bring you out to his temporary Manchester abode. This is you would both stay until he could find a house to place some money down on so he can truly start to settle out the fact he's going to have the next six years of his life here in this area with this club. It makes him more than happy, being here. But something that tickles him in thought as he follows you up the stairs is that he'll get to experience all of this newness with you. You’ll get to explore the new area together, find nee places, making it home together. You had both known Soulihull like the back of your hand, now you could find new places to just be together. He can go house hunting with you. He'll let you drag him through the houses he probably wouldn't otherwise look so much into, talking about what room could be which and silly little things he wouldn't even have noticed.

He could pick a house with you that would have enough room to start a family in together within the next year or so, like you had been hoping to do depending on what the club and transfer season had brought. This brought stability, a team that would function well without a reliance on him if there were some things he had to sit out in order to build this family.

It had been, unbeknownst to you, such a pivotal part of discussions with the Manchester City agents. Jack made it clear he was looking for stability and trophies. He had done so much for Villa and now it was time for him to invest energy in bigger fights with bigger clubs that don't face relegation so constantly. He made it clear to the managers also that the was looking to be in the business of starting a family sometime soon. He was welcomed with open arms still. A club who wanted him desperately and would probably have caved to many more demands from him, not having a fraction of an issue with negotiated paternity pay and leave.

He couldn't wait to find a house and settle down here with you for the foreseeable future, even if things didn't look exactly as he thought they might've looked when you first got together as merely young adults.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours, eh?" You ask softly, running your fingers gently through his tangled and sweaty hair as he stands there in the middle of the large bathroom. Jack shrugs. There's so much in there today, not really like usual where he could sort through those thoughts and keep his head clear for every day and every game he faces.

"Just stressed," he huffs, allowing you to help him out of the brand new away strip he had been given at the beginning of the day today for his first first game with the new team.

His muscles are achy and tight, body still stiff from the cold that the rain had battered into his limbs as you easily hook off his boxers and tug them down his legs so he can step over the bathtub into the perfect temperature bubble filled water that makes him heave out a heavy sigh of relief the second it meets his skin.

"Talk to me, baby?"

And talk to you he did after he sat down in that bath with you.

He leaned back against you, allowing you to lather shampoo into the hair he trusted very few people with multiple times to massage the ache out of his skull from the previous days tension headaches. He talks about all those messages from so many unhappy people, some even City fans who didn't even want to entertain the idea of him being there. He talks about his worry of sitting on the bench season after season, telling you he was hoping to god those tweets wouldn't be further from the truth. He confided in you some of his greatest pains; the concept that he'd let his Villa teammates down and maybe even made his family unhappy despite the fact they had given him nothing but their full support and unsurprising pride just like everybody else in his immediate circle.

You massage muscle relaxing soap into all of the muscles in his body as he just talks, letting the weight of the world off of his shoulders to dissipate like the steam in the air from the bath. Only once he has everything off his chest and the waters gone cold do you both leave the bathroom, wrapped in towels then into pyjamas where he wraps you up in his arms like he's been desperate to do since the moment he touched off for International duty months ago, and he talks again.

This time, he talks to you instead of just talking out every worry and fear he's ever had.

Jack uses probably the most amount of words he's ever used in such sensible succession in order to paint you a perfect mental picture of a house just outside the city with a huge garden, fenced in for dogs and kids with a pool and enough room for all three of those future kids to have their own room, even though they'll share at first just for fun. He paints a picture of you at his games with two sons and a daughter, his name on each shirt along your back. The kids will call Foden uncle Phil and they’ll love him just like you both do. They'll get to play with the teams kids on the pitch after the games no matter how tired the guys are even if they've been thrashed in a loss. He depicts the kind of life you had both wanted for so long, somehow always deterred by something until right this moment, the time feeling like it had rolled perfectly into place for both of you.

And Jack tells you about how you'll poke fun at him when he starts to get those salt and pepper strands of hair and he'll love you no matter how you look. Your kids will learn what love is from their parents, they'll pick it up and they'll emulate it in their own lives sometime in the future. They'll stamp out hate with the hearts full of love that you will both allow those kids to grow into.

You both fall asleep together that night, wrapped in each others arms drifting off into dreams of kids that don't exist yet in a house you haven't even looked for with a future that each of you wants nothing more than to grab onto with both hands.

Jack's heart hurts for the changes he's made this week. He doubts the pain will ever fully leave him and he hopes that one day his club will welcome him back to end his career on a high note with them. However, until then the pain will be dulled by the prospect of his new future here.

One he can't wait to get stuck right into.

[edensrose]

Hi foxx <3 plsss can you write family heads reaction to their s/o spanking their ass 🏃‍♀️💨

I laughed so hard when I saw this request — I loved writing this 😂💕

ৎ୭ — summary : jahad, khun eduan, arie hon and po bidau gustang's reaction to their s/o randomly spanking them

ৎ୭ — type : headcanon

ৎ୭ — genre : miscellaneous

ৎ୭ — warnings : spanking ??

ৎ୭ — word count : 480

ৎ୭ — taglist : @spoopy-fish-writes @a-chaotic-dumbass @rurifangirl @shanmie @hirzaeth @dailygoodwithmyzoe @neylia18 @samaseo @lvfel // please fill out this form if you'd like to be added

ⵓ‧₊˚ ʚjahadɞ ‧₊ ༉

•You are very brave to do something like this, seriously

•It would take a lot to catch him off-guard, make sure he’s at the very least in a good mood before even attempting such a thing

•It would have been just as the two of you were getting ready for the bed - and let me just say you had not anticipated what would happen

•No squish, only mUSClE

•Jahad turns to you, stiff, shocked, staring at you as if he didn’t know you at all. He’d try to find words but nothing comes out

•Before he eventually manages out a “why?”

•Congratulations, you broke the king

꒰ ꒷꒦୨khun eduan୧˚₊๑

•No, you’re either REALLY brave or REALLY stupid for even thinking about this

•What were you expecting him to do? Blush and yelp like some shy schoolgirl?? You dug your own grave, Y/N

•He had walked past you, finding his way down the hallway and to his study when suddenly - spank!

•Eduan stops dead in his tracks, before abruptly turning to you with an arch of his brow and a smirk over his lips

•“Two can play at that game,’’

•Within a flash your wrists were in his grip and he drove you back into the room you had come from. . . good luck

ⵓ‧₊˚ ʚarie honɞ ‧₊ ༉

•You’re bad for this one, really bad. You know how traditional he is, right? You know that such things are unconventional for him

•It was after you had both woken up and started getting ready for the day. Whilst he stood in front of the mirror, attending to his hair - is when you decided to make a move

•You saw it all, the jump, the shock, the horror. Hon full-on malfunctioned before your very eyes

•He turns to you, eyes wide, trying to find something to say. It was as if everything crashed down and left him an incoherent mess

•“Who - Who taught you such things!?” You had to bite back a laugh from how horrified he truly seemed

•This is the first and last time that you have ever seen

him in such a state

꒰ ꒷꒦୨po bidau gustang୧˚₊๑

•Honestly, you weren’t sure what to expect when you went in for this kind of thing. Gustang always seemed like a by-the-book guy so you weren’t exactly sure how he’d react to this

•You were both walking down the hallway after dinner - which he just so happened to have the time to spend with you

•Perfect opportunity, you went in for the mission

•He froze up - not a sound leaving his lips as he seemed to become a statue. You peek around at his expression and see nothing but a blank stare

•You stared at him, waving a hand in front of his face but nothing happens - until he grabs your chin and pulls you closer. It is then that you see the soft pink over his cheeks

•“. . . Never do that again,’’

[journey-to-the-attic]

What if Ik was like Qiqi? Bad memory, rots if too hot, cryo vision, etc.? All the possible angst and fluff is beautiful. Lucifer would write down notes about all the brothers so that way she doesn't get confused in case she forgets, Levi letting her stay in his room to stay cool, Beel giving her ice cream, ugh in need this brainriot in my life-

i saw this ask early in the morning and i've been thinking about it ever since THIS IS SUCH A GOOD AU PREMISE

hang on i'll try to put my incoherent thoughts so far into words under the cut (heads up i ended up writing a LOT)

because i apparently love to make myself sad, the set up for zombie-ik is going to be really quite angsty

she arrives in the devildom as per the same ik-from-teyvat premise: just a kid from liyue harbour with a cryo vision who's kind of obsessed with seelies and studying them

and then everything would follow the basic outline of jtta, with the main differences being that teyvatian ik's generally more confident and assertive than jtta ik, and also she's able to defend herself more against the various attacks she comes under, so her right hand is intact

she's also just as bad at tech as simeon, because in teyvat the peak of technology is the kameras

then this au diverges at the Event Of Lesson 16

belphie catches ik off guard and incapacitates her vision somehow (he doesn't deactivate it entirely - like he doesn't shatter it or anything - so i guess he just yanks it away and throws it down the hall or something?)

maybe he doesn't prevent ik from accessing it entirely, and she does still have combat knowledge that doesn't require use of a vision, but either way belphie's still way bigger than her, plus he's got all those undefined demon powers, so ik doesn't have an opportunity to fight back

and in THIS deviation, ik does not come back. the others find belphie standing over her body and she does not move and will not wake up no matter what they try

they move her to her room while diavolo and barbatos try to do damage control, and all the while everyone's just kind of in shock

meanwhile, something very odd is happening with the dead child in the house

so it turns out that ik's always carrying a special adeptal talisman that was given to her by xiao a while ago

(alternatively it could have been zhongli, or maybe she somehow befriended mountain shaper/cloud retainer/moon carver after ending up in jueyun karst during so many seelie-studying expeditions, and that's where she got it from)

she didn't know what it did, but she was told to never let it out of her sight and always keep it on her person, because it would protect her in an emergency

what the talisman was MEANT to do was summon the adeptus that made it to her side, but unlike our wholesome xiao-appears-in-the-devildom-and-beats-the-shit-out-of-belphie-for-attacking-his-friend au, it doesn't work because teyvat and the devildom are two entirely different worlds, and adepts is magic isn't powerful enough to summon a being from one to the other

the adeptal power in the talisman did sense that ik was in danger and tried to come into effect, but obviously that didn't work... and it's being continuing to sense danger ever since ik actually died

in the end the adeptal power 'compromises' by imbuing itself into ik, therefore re-animating her into a zombie like qiqi

she wakes up in her room, memory very very fuzzy, feeling very stiff and odd

she finds her vision lying in the hallway when she ventures out, and then she hears a lot of shouting from nearby, so she follows the sound and walks in on mammon attempting to throttle belphie while the other brothers try (half heartedly) to stop him

cue the relief and crying and hugs, while belphie stands very far away and silently melts into a guilty and awkward goop

everyone's so relieved that they don't even notice how off ik's acting

a bunch of conversation happens, eventually they figure out that she's not so much alive again as undead (though, because the concept of adepts and talismans is lost on them, they don't know HOW it happened)

SKIPPING over all the family angst that happens as the other brothers try to figure out how they want to treat belphie now, because he's still their brother but also he literally murdered ik, but also ik's not dead anymore??

anyway, about ik and how different she is now that she's a zombie... (based heavily off of qiqi's lore in-game)

she's always cold to the touch, partially because she no longer has blood circulation, partially because she uses her cryo vision to cool herself to prevent decay

like qiqi, she has to do regular stretches to stop rigor mortis from setting in. she doesn't have great control over her reanimated muscles, so she moves very slowly - when she does move even moderately quickly, it's very jerky and imprecise, and she's liable to cause destruction

her face is basically always completely blank, because it's pretty difficult for her to school her facial muscles precisely enough to form an expression. it's not impossible, but she usually just doesn't think it's worth the effort, especially when she's practically unable to feel any strong emotions - so she just doesn't feel the need to do anything with her face

over time, though, the brothers are able to figure out that some things do get a genuine reaction out of her

for example, at some point levi asks tentatively if she'd like to talk about seelies (since, while she was living, she'd go on tangents about them for ages at a time), and ik just lights up. she gets the closest thing to a smile that he's seen on her since she died, her voice is a lot more animated, and she talks in much longer sentences

(normally she speaks in a very quiet monotone, often omitting any unnecessary words, and her sentences don't usually exceed five words)

(because she's so slow-talking and slow-moving, every now and then one of the others will lose their patience with her, and do something like snap at her or cut off the conversation that was originally happening. ik's face doesn't change much, but somehow something about her expression looks so infinitely hurt that it's like being stabbed in the chest)

or, another example: one day, on a shopping trip while ik stays with the purgatory hall folk, the brothers get this giant custom-made plushie based off of the drawings that ik's shown them of seelies in the past

they give it to her, and she stands there silently holding it for a really long time. then her face starts twisting a little, and they panic - but then ik finally figures out how to do it, and she just gives them the biggest, brightest smile they've seen for what feels like an eternity

CRITICAL HIT. everyone is crying

ik's memory is awful - if something doesn't reoccur within at least a week of its initial happening, or if she isn't reminded of someone's existence in her life regularly, she'll forget about them pretty much entirely

her memories from before her death are really fuzzy as well - so she doesn't actually remember being killed by belphie (though this is partially because it was traumatic enough for her brain to also block out the memory)

but, even if she doesn't fully remember the details (or even sometimes the names) of her devildom friends, subconsciously she still knows she likes them - even at the times when she doesn't really remember who they are

which includes belphie himself, because she did have some friendly encounters with him before the attack (we are skimming all the guilt and stuff that belphie himself goes through because i think we've got enough angst in this au already)

one time lucifer is away for about a fortnight on business for diavolo or something, and then, when he gets back and says hello to ik, she looks at him for a minute, then asks cluelessly, 'who are you?'

not gonna lie, lucifer tears up a little bit

in the end, he's able to jog ik's memory enough from her to recognise him as the same guy she knows and feels safe with, but the moment still really sticks with him

it'd be at this point that he decides to start helping ik keep that notebook of things to remember. he enlists satan for help and gets a nice pretty blue one with lots of pages, but small and light enough to be portable, along with a pen holder

they mark out all the sections and everything - each titled things like 'to do', 'where things are', 'what to do when...', etc.

most of these sections are left blank for ik to write in herself, with the exception is the first section, which satan and lucifer have already filled out

it's titled 'your friends' - and, as the name might give away, it's a record of ik's friends for her to refresh her memory from to make sure she doesn't forget them

for each friend, there's a nice clear picture of their face, their name, a short description of what they're like, and a little message to ik from the friend in question. there are spaces left for ik to add new friends, but so far she hasn't yet

they get solomon to do a funky magic thing where he connects ik's notebook to blank backup one, so that anything written in ik's notebook also appears in the backup - so that there's something to fall back on if ik loses the original, which her poor memory makes her liable to do

there's a tracking charm on it, but you never know, she'll find a way

lucifer is generally the one holding onto the backup and he doesn't look at it much, but he does have a flick through it regularly to check up on ik - just to make sure she's not been having any major troubles that she hasn't told anyone about, as well as to make sure she hasn't forgotten about the notebook entirely

as per a suggestion from asmo, ik starts highlighting the stuff in the notebook that she considers very important things to remember, and one day lucifer notices that she's highlighted all of the profiles in the 'your friends' section

he tears up a bit again

zombie ik mostly stays home at the house of lamentation at first - there's not much point in getting her to go to school when she's going to forget everything she's learnt if it's not constantly reinforced, plus ik herself shows precisely zero interest in it

but eventually the others figure it must be boring for her to just sit around at home on her own for ages - levi's home sometimes, but he's usually busy doing his online lessons - plus she always seems a little fuzzy on her memory of them when they get back home, and even though it keeps happening enough for them to be numb to it,

ik's not sure if she has a concept of boredom anymore, she just kind of... exists. and that's it. but it is nice when the others take her out for little day trips

sometimes she tags along to the r.a.d., sometimes barbatos uses his free time to take her out to town (since he doesn't attend classes), sometimes some of the brothers will use their lunch break to go visit her at the house

someone's always with her whenever she's out of the house because she gets lost really easily, and she'll very rapidly forget where she was supposed to be in the first place unless she wrote it in her notebook, which she often doesn't because, in moment, she doesn't think it's important enough. there's also a whole host of other stuff that means she needs to have an eye on her

for example, she needs help climbing stairs because, even with the exercises, her still somewhat stiff muscles make it pretty hard. before beel added a line in her notebook that told her to go get help whenever she needed to climb stairs, she'd literally spend ten minutes very slowly hauling herself up them at a time

also, sometimes she trips and falls, and she'll often just lie there on the floor for ages, wondering what she's supposed to do next

if you didn't realise til now, zombie ik is a little bit stupid

but it's alright! the brothers take excellent care of her

lucifer came up with the aforementioned notebook thing, and he's also extremely vigilant when it comes to keeping track of ik's activities. if there is even the slightest change in her usual routine, he WILL know about it. if there is a single problem that he even suspects she might not be able to solve, he WILL take care of it. if a demon at the r.a.d. even thinks about taking advantage of ik's kind of mindless state, he WILL smite them. you could call him overbearing, but in her zombie state, ik kind of needs it - and she's not really aware enough to realise his overprotectiveness in the first place

mammon is in misery for a good while because, even though the kid's walking and talking, she's just not the same, and every time he sees her he's reminded of the fact that he got there too late to stop her dying. for this reason, he's a bit distant for a while, but eventually he comes to terms with the fact that he can't change the past, and decides that he'll carry on taking care of his kid FOREVER. he's the one most commonly accompanying ik places, the one who keeps track of the rare things that get strong positive reactions from her, and also the one who knows best how to get those rare smiles out of her

levi's a good guy for ik to just chill with. he lets her play his games with him whenever she expresses interest, even though she's incredibly slow-learning, and her stiff fingers make it really hard to manipulate controllers, use keyboards/mice, or tap on a screen - but he doesn't mind that she's almost laughably bad at everything she tries, as long as she seems to be having fun. he also doesn't stop doing those rants about his own interests, because ik still listens attentatively every time - and that's the important part to him, not the fact that she'll likely forget what he told her soon. ik also likes it in levi's room because, subconsciously, the blue glow of the water reminds her of the blue glow of the seelies back home

satan lets her sit with him for as long as she likes, and will more often than not start quietly reading aloud to her when she does. sometimes she'll nestle up against him to listen to him read, and even though it's making him kind of chilly, he doesn't mind, so he lets it happen. she asks him a lot of questions, many of which get repeated because she forgot that he's already answered them, but he stays patient with her and explains things to her with as much detail as she likes. he also reminds ik about her notebook regularly, to make sure she doesn't forget to look at it

asmo doesn't treat her much different - he keeps doting on her, painting her nails and doing her hair as usual. this is part of the reason that ik confides in him a lot - his demeanour doesn't change like the others' do, even when she's telling him some TRULY gut wrenching stuff. of course, asmo is feeling the painful emotional stabby-stabby as much as the others, but he's really good at covering it up with his usual sunny smile, continuing to treat ik the same way he did when she was alive, and reassuring her that don't worry, we all still love you even though you can't smile for us much

beel is the second-most common companion for ik when she goes out, because he worries constantly about her mobility, especially when coupled with her size. he's the one who puts together a nice simple stretching routine for ik to keep up with, reminds her to do them at the same time every day, and always does them alongside her, never mind the fact that they don't really do anything for his own workouts. after some time, ik actually begins remembering to do her exercises on her own- she'll come to beel at the right time and ask if they can start - and it's basically his proudest achievement

and belphie...

he physically cannot make eye contact with ik for a good few months. the main difference between this and any other universe, where ik properly comes back, is that ik is unable to have a proper confrontation with him, and therefore he's unable to properly apologise for murdering her - because she doesn't even remember it happening. so there's never any closure.

skipping over all the actual drama this creates, belphie eventually resolves himself to move on - never forgiving himself, never forgetting it happened, but acknowledging that it's unfair to ik to keep lingering on it, as if he WANTS her to remember that extremely traumatic moment

so he becomes just as, if not more vigilant about her well-being than lucifer

because she has no need for it, ik doesn't usually sleep, and often she'll sidle into one of the brother's rooms late at night to seek company - she'll wander about for a bit, then chooses the room that she hears the most activity from, and just sit there with whichever brother she's chosen

and one day she chooses belphie, while he's staying up late looking at the stars

he feels so incredibly awkward, because even though he watches over her, he doesn't spent a lot of time with her directly. but then, maybe partially because of his influence as the avatar of sloth, she slowly curls up by his side and starts snoozing there

sure, there's a fountain in the observatory, but belphie's about to rival it with this fountain of tears

anyway - you know what? little jiangshi ik is in very good hands, so i think she'll be just fine

[angelamajiki]

[ study date - part two ]

PARING: Bully! Yandere! Hawks x Reader x Bully! Yandere! Dabi

CW: quirkless college au, yandere, noncon/dubcon, mindbreak, dacryphilia, boot licking, boot humping, humiliation, degradation, cum eating, spanking, physical abuse, verbal abuse, scumbag dabihawks

AN: finally part two is here!! sorry about the long wait. mind the tags and enjoy!!

PART ONE

The situation was all too suspicious. You couldn't put your finger on it, but you knew the two of them had something to do with it. They always have something conniving up their sleeves, inventing new ways to torment you.

Not less than a day ago did you receive that dreaded phone call, and of course, the pair of them were there to witness your breakdown because of it. Because of your failing grade in chemistry, your scholarship was revoked which meant that you lost your housing privileges for the campus. And those two seemed all too happy to watch you crumble and sob in front of them like a child.

“Sounds like you're down on your luck, princess. What's a girl to do?”

Touya was all too pleased about the situation, the smug bastard. A warm hand made a place for itself on your lower back as it rubbed circles of faux sympathy. Sobs dribbled from your mouth as his hands moved lower to grip your hips from behind.

“Now, now, Touya. Don't tease her like that.” Keigo tutted, leaning against the wall next to the two of you. “Perhaps we coulda let our girlfriend come stay with us.” He sighed dramatically, quirking his brow at you before looking away.

So that was it. They wanted you to grovel at their feet and beg for mercy if you wanted their help, just like last time.

“Too bad we don't have one, doll. Ya made yourself pretty clear that you just aren't interested in us. Such a shame, we coulda been a real big help, ya know.”

Touya patted you on the back before walking off down the hall with Keigo, leaving your tear-stricken face all alone.

“W...Wait!” It came out more desperate than you could have hoped. The two of them stopped but refused to turn to look at you. The silence was deafening. “I’ll go out with the both of you. I'll be your girlfriend.”

Admission alone should have been good enough for them, but your constant denial had left them greedy for more.

“And just how do we know you're not looking to mooch off us, babe?”

Rats, they were right. You had no way to prove you wouldn't just use them, abuse them, and lose them.

“Touya, I thought I said to stop teasing princess.” Keigo chuckled, turning to look at you with narrowed eyes. “Of course, we’ll go out with you; nothing would make us happier to call you our girl.”

Taking your hand, he helped you up off the bench and swiped the tears from your eyes. Humiliation flushed your face as you struggled to look anywhere but his hawk-like eyes.

“C’mon, doll. Let’s go clean out your dorm and head back to our place.”

»»————-　　————-««

Back in your apartment, the boys made quick of boxing up your things and loading them into Keigo’s pick-up. The poor distraught thing you were, the bathroom is where you holed yourself up and cried your heart out. The fact that you had to stoop as low as to live with your bullies to survive? And you thought you couldn't be more humiliated than the last time they offered helo. It’ll be temporary; you tried to convince yourself. You'll stay with them a few weeks and be on your merry way, finding someone else to stay with. Hell, you’ll couch surf if you have to. Anything was better than staying with those demons.

“Hey, doll!” Touya rapped his fingers on the door thrice before opening up to your crying form. “Hey, hey, hey. No need for tears. Your boyfriends are here to help.” His wolfish grin said otherwise.

“Bird brain and I finished packing your shit. Let's hit the road.”

A rough hand yanked you up from the floor, tugging you along. A yelp flew from your mouth before you could stop it as you pushed up against the sink, pinned in by Touya’s hips on yours.

“On second thought, I can't let my pretty girl feel so down, now can I? Let me give you something that’ll cheer ya up.”

A hard tent nestled its way up your skirt as he ground his hips against you.

“Let your man take care of you, huh? I’ll give you something good to cry about.”

Keigo was content to watch from the doorway as his partner continued to make you squirm under him.

“Besides, we haven't discussed payment. Rent ain’t free, princess.”

God, were these men cruel to you. You can't really expect any less from the men who were content to bully you in the first place.

“All my money was from the scholarship; I don’t-”

A hearty laugh came from the blonde, eyes narrowing in on your pinned form.

“Who said anything about money?” He quipped, sauntering over to you and took your chin in his hand. “You can pay us back with your obedience. We want a well-behaved slut that we can come home to, not some brat we have to take kicking and screaming.”

What choice did you have? They had you pinned in a corner, like a mouse caught by two feral cats who were just a bit too hungry to have any kind of patience to play games.

“I-I understand.” You swallowed, nodding in Keigo’s palm.

“Really now.” Touya drawled out, taking Keigo’s spot in the doorway. It was apparent they didn't want you to bolt on them. “I’m not convinced. You gotta prove yourself to us first, little girl.”

The bare mattress creaked under his weight as he took a seat in your room, legs spread as he motioned you towards him with his finger. Keigo, although reluctantly, let go of your face and locked both doors as he took a seat in the corner, seemingly content to watch the display.

A throaty chuckle left the man as you stood in front of him.

“Strip.”

The command left you shivering under his predatory gaze, a low whistle coming from his mouth as he fucked you with his eyes.

“Kei, put on some music.”

“Yes, sir.” He purred, using his phone for tunes and snatching yours from your purse before pocketing it in his jacket. Girls, Girls, Girls by Mötley Crüe filled the walls of your dorm, both men gratified by watching your little dance for them.

First went your shirt, tossed off onto the floor as your face flushed with shame. Tears welled in your eyes before you screwed them shut while swaying to the music.

“Hey! Eyes open and on me, little girl.” Touya snapped, spanking the side of your ass as punishment. You hiccuped, sucking in a breath to hold back the tears. The stress of the situation weighed you down, bursting you at the seams as you openly sobbed while removing your bra. Music blaring and laughs all around from Touya; you looked to Keigo for help; he always seemed to be on your side. Head thrown back against the wall, he jerked himself to the sound of your cries, winking and whistling as you looked back at him.

“Hurry it up; you're not very good at dancing, doll. You're stiff as a board.”

“She’s not the only one who's stiff.”

Cackles and guffaws filled the room, piercing your ears to the point where you thought you would go deaf at the next sound of their voices. Mindlessly, your clothes were haphazardly thrown off before you crumpled into a ball on the floor, shaking and sobbing.

“Aww, is baby having a bad day? Come to daddy.”

Touya helped you up off the floor before placing your bare cunt atop his left boot. “Why don't you relieve some stress, huh?”

The boot jerked under you, pressing up against your clit as you yelped. Getting the memo, you started to grind your hips down against his boot. Your cries quelled as you rocked your hips into a steady rhythm, biting your lip when you felt pleasure began to pool in your gut. How depraved were you? Getting off on your bully's boot while the other one got off to watching you. It was enough to make you sick, forcing you to cling to Touya’s thigh and rest your forehead there. A collection of moans and classic rock music blared in your room, bouncing off the walls so loudly that it made you even hazier.

As much as you wanted to deny it, the man had a point. You might as well submit and let yourself feel good; there's no getting out of it. Gasps and moans left your drooling mouth as you ground your hips on the tip of his boot with enthusiasm, letting yourself get lost in the pleasure slowly crescendoing in your core.

“Atta, girl.” Touya growled, gripping your hair from the scalp as he made eye contact with you. “Look at when you cum.”

Incoherent responses left your lips as you began to cry again, only that it was from pleasure this time. He continued to sustain eye contact as he fisted his cock, letting go of your hair in lieu of sticking his fingers in your mouth and choking you with them. Warbled cries fell onto his fingers as your hips increased in speed, thighs sputtering and shaking as you came close to creaming yourself on his boot.

“Cum on my boot, slut.”

His cock was aimed at your open mouth as you grunted and moaned, eyes cloudy as they rolled back into your bed. You came with a cry, squirting all over his patent-leather boot as your body shook with the sheer force of your orgasm.

Touya was not too far behind you, moaning your name as he shot his seed into your waiting mouth, covering your nose after finishing.

Like the obedient whore they needed you to be, you swallowed. His foot kicked up into you, knocking you off his leg.

“Disgusting. Clean up your mess, bitch.”

Nodding, a small whimper left your mouth as you began to lick your juices off his boot. Kitten licks and long strokes alike made their way around the leather, whining when he would shove his foot roughly in your face at times.

“Y’know, I’m still not convinced, sweetheart,” Keigo called out from behind you, taking a fist full of hair in his clutch as he pulled you up from the floor. “Beg for my forgiveness, and I’ll know you’re not trying to run a game on us.”

With a still tight reign on your hair, he threw you to the bed face down, ass up while discarding his own clothes. A harsh spank thwacked on your ass as he gripped the reddening flesh right after.

“Damn this ass is gonna be the death of me. Ain't that right, Touya?”

“Sure is; it's all she's good for.”

Neither of them really meant those nasty things they spewed at you, but it just felt too good at the moment to pass up seeing you cry. The sooner you learn that submission is the way to their hearts, the easier you'll have it. Sure, you were a whore, but you were their whore.

“Hope this pussy’s ready for a pounding cause Daddy is coming in.” He chuckled, groaning as he sank his length into your tight, unprepared vice. Whimpering and squirming beneath him, you attempted to grip the bare mattress for purchase as you felt the sting and stretch of his cock thrusting inside you. The pain wasn't terrible, but it was still there. You wiggled your hips, hoping to get some friction before another spank was administered.

“I haven't heard any begging yet.”

“P-Please fuck me, Keigo.”

“That’s not what I’m looking for, sweetheart.”

Oh? Oh.

“Please let me be your girlfriend! Please, I need to be yours; I need you!”

A slew of curses flew out of him as he pinned your hips down, thrusting deep and slow inside you. The pace was agonizingly slow as you tried to move your hips.

“Please, please, please!” you babbled. “Keigo, Touya. Let me be your girlfriend; let me be your obedient whore. I need to be yours!”

Humiliation hardly fazed you anymore as you let yourself, babbling and crying out begs and pleas for your two bullies.

Keigo happily increased his thrusts, pounding into you as a man possessed. Growls and snarls spat from his mouth as he savored the way your tight pussy fluttered around his painfully hard cock.

“Such a good girl for us, good girl.” The blonde moaned, pressing a sloppy kiss to the back of your neck. He lapped at the sweat there, leaving bite marks and blood for you to find later.

Your moans and cries were music to their ears, the most hypnotic melody they had ever heard. Touya stroked himself off in the corner, pleased with your earlier performance and giving his partner space to hit the nail into the coffin.

You, on the other hand, were being fucked out of your mind as Keigo dicked you down good. Good enough to make you forget your worries, your troubles, your life ripping apart at the seams for even just a moment. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled your senses as you felt the pleasure come at you full speed.

“T-Tell me you love me, that you love us.”

“Oh, someone’s feeling bold, birdie.”

Strings of “I love you”s flowed freely from your mouth as you chased your high, wanting to feel pure and utter relief, albeit it is just for a moment.

You came with a cry, spasming on his cock as he came deep inside you. A bright, white sensation filled your senses as you grasped onto your clarity for as long as you, not wanting to come down from your high.

Toned arms rested on either side of you before enveloping you in a warm hug.

“Good job, princess.”

A sweet whisper filled your ears before a kiss was placed on your cheek. Silence fell over the room, save for all of your panting and breathing. In your post-orgasm clarity, you couldn't help but realize something.

Wasn't Touya’s father dean of the school?