#keeping my fingers crossed this doesn't end up getting long lmao

[lalalychee-x]

"Bad Idea!" Boothill x Reader ft. his hat

CW: NSFW! MDNI! fem!reader; sex where ur on a window sill; squirting + licking it off again lol; slight exhibitionism (the door's open); biting; Boothill's tongue has its own warning; clothes ripping; fingering; robo-dick and cyborg fingers lmao; creampie; blood from biting is mentioned like twice and barely; teasing; braless; begging; edging; sweet and soft Boothill bc he's a cutie; empty warnings; he can't breathe since he doesn't have lungs?? word count: 3415 oopsie

song4this Bad Idea by Ariana Grande

♡ Whenever Boothill's hat goes missing, he knows you're responsible, so it ends up with him hunting around for you. You run away with his hat on to tease him, and he runs after you, playfully nibbling at your cheek. It's all fun and games until the hat is the only thing you have on.. ♡ Basically, you steal his hat to tease him, but end up getting fucked silly until you apologise to him. With the hat on. And only the hat on. "Ya wanted to wear it so badly, darlin', so ya got it."

inspo post from @madamofthestars (psst, check them out! They super cool!) art creds: skoukax on insta

"C'mon now, sugar, ya know that ain't yours…!" Boothill called out behind out, his voice a mixture of frustration and amusement.

You rolled your eyes, quickly glancing back through a spin on your heel; the hat wobbling slightly as you held it in place with one hand.

You look back at him, sticking your tongue out, before giggling and darting off. You sharply turned a corner, your heart racing as you waited for the perfect moment to lead him down a wilder chase.

Boothill scoffs, an amused smirk tugging at his lips, "Oh, gettin' smart now, are we?"

You spin back around, your heart racing as the clicking of his boots gets closer and quicker, "I am smart!" You taunted him a little, the brim of the hat bobbing as you picked up speed.

"Ya little fudgin' minx," Boothill muttered under his breath, his curses amusingly censored as they reached your ears. "I swear, when I get my hands on ya…"

"You can't even swear properly!" You call out again, turning your head as you ran, setting the hat askew.

You catch a glimpse of him running towards you, the sight beyond amusing to see when running at such speed. You attempt to call back, but your voice dissolves into a fit of giggles and gasps for air as you ran.

You snapped your head back, facing forward to drag out the chase. It was all fun and games until you realised you'd diverted your attention for too long and cornered yourself in a dead-end room. Boothill's imposing figure filled the doorway, a smirk playing on his lips as he took in the sight of you. You were panting but your index and thumb firmly gripped the brim of the hat, assuring it stayed on your head.

A room was an overstatement; a storage room, just maybe, with a singular horizontal window panel that stretched about a meter wide at most. It let in a few spells of moonlight.

Boothill leaned against the door frame, his arms crossed over the metal plates of his chest, "Gotcha now," He laughed, the star-shaped insignia on his jacket clicking against the metal of his torso as he did so. "My hat looks mighty fine on ya, but I think it's time ya give it back."

You adjusted the hat, spining it on your low on your brow.

"Come on, just a little longer—?" You teased, batting your eyelashes in a futile attempt to charm him.

"No can do, darlin'," He chuckled again, pushing the door shut behind him. The room dimmed as the light from outside blocked out. "But if ya apologise, I'ma let you have it a bit longer."

"Ok ok, sorry!" You smile sheepishly, reaching a hand to the hat. "There, can I keep it for longer?"

Boothill looked at you with a raised eyebrow, as if you were joking. "That it?"

"Well, else do you want me to say?" You stood there, a bit dumbfounded.

He stared for a second longer before edging himself closer, his face close to yours, bionic fingers tracing up and down your neck. "C'mon, apologise properly."

He tipped the hat up by the brim to expose your eyes better to him. He leaned down, the sharp edges of his teeth latching onto the soft skin of your cheek, pressing hard enough that they'd definitely leave jagged crescent-shaped scars in the morning.

He moved some hair away from your neck, his voice low against your ear as he nibbled across your jaw, "C'mon sweetcheeks, I know ya can work that mouth better than tha't. What happened to all tha't smart talk from before, hm?"

A flushed heat crawled up your neck, dusting your cheeks a rosy pink even in the dim light. It took a moment, before your quickening gasps dissolved into stutters, "A-ah, that was a j-joke…"

"A j-j-joke?" He laughed low against your ear, playfully mocking your stutter, "But you look to be takin' it real serious, sweetheart."

He paused, before licking a long stipe down from your jaw down to your collar bone. "M'still wanting that pretty lil' apology. C'mon."

God, his tongue was going to drive you insane-

You let out a shaky breath, lowering your hand from the hat on your head to place comfortably on his metal shoulder plates. "Hey hey, sorry sorry, I won't steal your hat again, ah—!"

You gasped, almost buckling over as Boothill planted a particularly mean bite through the thin skin of your collarbone.

Glancing down through hazy eyes, you watched as he swiped his tongue over his teeth, licking away the small beads of blood across his jagged dentures. "Ya said that last time too, darlin'."

Your grip tightened on his shoulders, "C'mon, I mean it this… t-time-!"

Your eyes widened, watching Boothill's teeth latch onto the neckline of your dress, yanking it roughly until it ripped. You yelped at the sudden rush of cool air against your bare chest, nipples hardening under the sudden exposure.

"Boothill!" Your arms snapped around the obnoxious tear in your clothes. "The door's practically still open!"

He chuckled, tracing a line with his sharp teeth along your breast.

He raised an eyebrow, "No bra? Yer askin' for it now, sweetheart."

Your face felt really warm again, excuses coming out nothing more than mutters, "I-It… was really warm, today…"

"Aight then, darlin'," he cupped his metal palms under your thighs, hoisting you up until you sat on the window sill, your back pressed against the pane of the window. "Besides, if we get caught, then they jus' gonna havet' give us some privacy…"

You gulped away any nervousness as he shyed away your arms from your chest. He trailed his mouth down your teared bodice, ripping fabric as he went, until he reached the waistline of your dress. He paused for a moment, before ripping a tear down it, right to the hem of the skirt, the sliced fabric falling either side of your thighs.

Goosebumps raced up the exposed skin of your thighs, eyeing when he knelt down, two loud clanks as the metal joints of his knees hit the floor.

He grinned at the sight of the thin fabric of your underwear, running his teeth along his teeth again.

"What pretty panties, hm? Was half expectin' yer to be bare down here too, sweetheart." He lifted your right leg over his shoulder. "Shame 'm gonna rip 'em so soon."

"Hey—! Come on, c-careful!" You shivered slightly as his canines hooked around the stretchy fabric, piercing a hole in them.

"Right darlin'. It's ya punishment for not apologisin'."

"H-huh—?"

There was a staggered ripping sound as your underwear ripped from top corner to bottom corner, the material coming off with the dragging of his teeth.

You yelp, gripping his hair, "You—! Are you going to fucking shred everything I'm wearing—?!"

"Yeah, am plannin' on it, darlin'." He chuckled before trailing his tongue up your slit, already a drooling mess between your legs.

You shiver, your fingers gripping his hair tighter, the door cracked open only making your heart race faster. Oh Aeons, if someone were to see you exposed to him like this, pressed up against the window—

"Shh, relax sweetheart. The thrill's the best part. Jus' breathe for me, ok?" He began to rub up and down your slit, his voice soothing and his thumb lingering at your clit for a moment too long just to force a whine out of you. "But if I were ya, I'd start apologisin' if you wanna cum this time."

"H-haah—?!"

He didn't respond to your breathless protest, but circled two fingers around your entrance, watching amused as slick pooled on his fingertips. "Stubborn? Y'need some encouragement, do ya?"

He licked a long stripe up again letting tongue swirl around your clit before slipping a finger in, his mouth still hot against your folds.

He grinned and looked up at your nervous expression melting into pleasure, his head leaning against the inside of your thigh. "There y'go, sweetheart, ain't that feel good?"

"Hnngh—!" You desperately tried to roll your hips on his finger, only to fail and your body halt into a series stutters.

"Really fudgin' desperate, are we?" He laughed a little, sucking in a breath. "Hol' on, darlin', I'll find it."

He slid his finger in and out tantalisingly slow, his tongue brushing over your clit; you could feel the steel of his teeth occasionally that irked your body with shocks of pleasure. Content with your faltering ego, he slipped another finger in, the stretch making you wince before whining.

"B-boothill, 'm sorry, please-let-me-just, a-ah—!" Your eyes widen, one hand curved over and gripping the window sill and the other firmly on his hair.

"Hm, what's that darlin'?" He stupidly grins, his bottom lip glossed over with spit and your arousal. "Didn't quite hear ya…"

He curled his two fingers upwards, the rubber pads on his fingertips pressing firmly against that sweet spot deep inside you.

"F-fuckkknngh…" Your eyes roll out of focus, hips subcounciously rocking against his bent fingers and your back arched until your head pressed against the window pane — with the hat still on.

He clicked his tongue. "There. 'M found it. Now where are my sorries and Iwontdoitagain's?" He began to pump the two fingers in and out, roughly pressing against that sweet spot every thrust of them. "Still want a proper apology, sweetheart—"

He stays substantially quiet — amiss a few amused hums and chuckles — listening to your flurry of apologies and letting you listen to the sloppy squelches of your cunt.

"God, I'm sorry— I won't—"

"Oh, is that so, darlin'?"

"H-hn, god, I won't do it again—!"

"Sure ya won't, darlin'…" He sucked in a breath, voice shaky between your legs, before picking up the pace with a stupid grin on his face, flashing his shark teeth. You whine, rocking your hips in helpless stutters, your pussy openly accepting the change in pace and clenching around his digits while he curls them deeper and quicker inside of you. "Fuckfuckfuckk— I'm sorry, sorrysorry— pleasejust—"

Boothill grinned at your mush of words. Your mouth hung open, chewing at your bottom lip in a desperate attempt to muffle the drunk blabbles that spilled out of your mouth.

He mutters, his voice low between your trembling thighs, "C'mon sweetheart, y'mouth can beg better than that." He rolls his tongue over your clit again, pumping his fingers in and out, sticky threads leaking from your cunt and sprawling between his fingers and the sides of your thighs.

You clenched your eyes shut, tears pricking at your eyes, "Boothill, c'mon, 'm sorryyy— w-won't do it again— promise—!"He lets out a low hum, gently flicking at your clit with the tip of his tongue— oh god, his damned tongue. A flash of panic spread across your face, feeling him begin to slow down.

"Or what, sweetheart?" He experimentally twisted his hand agonisingly slow as he pumped in and out, pistoning your cunt with his fingers at deeper angles, rubbing your clit with his thumb.

"Please, 'm gonna — hic — c-cum—!" Tears began pricking at your eyes, "God, please, fuck, I've learned my lesson —!" Your pleas come out in choked sobs, "Please don't — hic — slow down—!"

"Attagirl," He grinned, the flat steel of his teeth pressed up against your slit as his tongue flit over that bundle of nerves at the tip that drove you insane, quicker this time, "Jus' a bit more, yeah?"

He slid in for a final time and jerked his hand upwards, settling his fingers into you, firmly hooking repeatedly into that sweet spot. His voice and laugh were teasing, vibrations low and tempting between the plush of your thighs. "C'mon — make a real fudgin' mess on m'face, sweetheart."

"B-boothill, 'm gonna—!"

Your fingers grip the smooth locks of his hair, head pushed against the glass, his name shamelessly spilling out of your mouth. Specks of white flash from behind your eyes, vision going hazy and choked moans straggering from your throat.

You hear him chuckle lightly underneath you, cooing at the clench around his fingers and the gushes of viscid liquid coating his tongue, lips and fingers so well.

He slowly pulled away after rubbing strangely vexing circles a few more times inside you. He glances up at you with a satisfied grin, his mouth and chin glossy with your fluids.

Lowering your thigh from his shoulder, he let it dangle back over the window sill before standing up with a loud scrape of his metal joints against the floor.

He cleaned his fingers clean of the sheeny, pretty slick with his tongue and making sure to roll them around in his mouth before taking them out with a 'pop—!'

"Real mess y'made, sweetcheeks." He grinned, flashing his teeth at you, as he used the back of his hand to wipe away any remnants. "Tastes real good, though."

"H-hnn…" Your voice came out rough and croaky, your head lolling to one side, setting the hat to tumble off your head.

He snapped a hand to the hat, placing it back on your head with a mischievious smile, "No no, keep it on. Ya wanted to wear it so badly, darlin', so y'got it."

You blink for a few moments, regaining your breath, "Oh, fuck you—!"

"With pleasure—"

"What am I going to wear when getting out of here?! At least you're clothed!" You motion to the sliced fabric on either side of your legs, and the ripped bodice of your dress hanging on dear threads.

With your comment, he slipped off and discarded his jacket that didn't even cover much anyway.

"Ya won't need anythin' for a while now, darlin'. Think of it when we get there." Boothill laughed, flicking away the torn rags. "Besides, y'look good with just the hat on. Think I've put your mouth to enough good use too."

You lick your lips, opening your mouth to say something but quickly shutting it again at the swift unbuckling of his belt; it heaves down to his thighs from the weight of the cartridges hung on it.

His fingers travel, hitching onto a cock of metal plates, the edges of them encased in thick black rubber right from the girth until reaching a swollen tip of black rubber.

You sharply breathe, eyeing the scale-like texture, taking note of every rib on it as it lined up against you. You suddenly blush at the realisation of mouth almost salivating, muttering, "You so owe me a new dress after this—"

Boothill let out an amused hum, one hand wiping a line of drool from your lip then trailing down to your tits, cupping the flesh with cold metal fingers. You shiver, the skin on your chest pebbled with goosebumps before gasping at a sudden bite along the sensitive skin.

"—?!"

The quick spike of pain quickly subsided into a tingly sort of pleasure as Boothill's tongue drove around the swelling mark, peppering a few more as he went until he was so bent over into you that his cock pushed up against your pussy, the metal cool against your puffy and swollen clit.

"Ah, fudge, darlin'—" He grits his teeth, feeling the warmness of you just on his tip. He huffs a little, barely fitting it in voice raspy as his face is buried into your neck. "Open up a bit, sweetheart will ya—?"

He backs away for a moment to grab both of your legs, hooking them firmly over his shoulders. You groaned at the stretch, keeping both hands on the window sill in desperation. He grinned at your pussy spread wider over his tip now, clenching around it and sheening the bulb of rubber with slick. "There y'go…"

He groaned, breathing shaky as he slid it slowly. "A-ah, God—"

"A-ah, God—" Your eyes widen, rolling out of focus from feeling every metal rib of his cock push into you, forcing it thick and hard into your cunt until it reached the base. You tense, locking your legs around his neck. "Fuck, I told you to be careful—!"

He let out a shaky laugh, "Sorry 'bout that darlin'—"

He places one hand on the window sill for leverage, the other coming to press the hat down on your head. With a sharp breath in, he begins to move, deep long strokes at first to make sure you felt every bump along the scale-plating of his cock against your walls.

And, god, did it drive you insane; the texture was too much, almost sending your sending your already-sensitive pussy into overstimulation. "Hnn, t-too much —! Boothillholdon, itsgonnahmph—!"

"Jus' relax, darlin', you've taken it before…" He whispers low into your ear, stressing the pace of his movements, losing himself in the warmth of your cunt and grinning at your indecipherable mush of words spilling from your mouth again. Muffled groans escape as he listens to your moans, picking up the pace.

You subconciously roll your hips against the thrusting of his cock, every metal plate rubbing smooth and hard against your walls, the thick rubber of his tip hitting hard against your g-spot.

"Killer hips y'got there, baby—" He cooes breathlessly in your ear, his own voice breaking as he thrust in and out of your sopping cunt. You flush a deep red, your face now hot and bothered when you realise how desperate you were against his cock.

You open your mouth to reply, probably with something smart but your lips are greeted with the stark taste of iron and your own slick on his tongue as his mouth kisses yours shut. You whine through his lips, feeling his tongue deep in your mouth until your whole body shivered and tingled. You tried to keep your eyes open, only to end up crossing them over in a fucked-out haze.

Your legs trembled over his shoulders, locking him tighter in place to bully his cock deeper into your cunt. His eyes widened at the lock, then he grinnned.

"Fudge, y'not lettin' m'get away, are ya—?" He groaned before huffing out a laugh, finally lowering his hand from the hat on your head to place them both on your hips, roughly slamming them onto him to target that sweet spot inside you.

"Hnn — hic — god, m'gonna—" Your words come out slobbery, your lips glossed over and drooling.

"C'mon, pretty, cum f'me…" He dug the metal of his fingers into your hips, his own beginning to stutter and shake as he moved. He rubbed the pad of his thumb against your clit in uneven circles to drag the orgasm out of you. "Make a real mess, sweetheart—"

Patches of white and yellow flash behind your eyes, your hips buckling forward. You let out a long choked moan that stuttered with every slackening thrust of his hips that gummed your insides with thick ropey spills of cum.

Gently, he slowed until the stimulation against your slit burned off, leaving you tingly and weak. Weak enough to finally let go of the leg lock you had on his neck.

The grip on your hips slackened as he pulled away, whistling at the mess between you both. He took a moment to watch the white slick drip between your legs. "Feel full as a tick yet, darlin'?"

You tried to respond, but your whole body almost lolled to the side, only stopped quickly by his arm. He gazed down at you, stupidly grinning and laughing at the sight. "What'd I say, darlin'? I did shut up that smart mouth of yours." He clicked his tongue in thought, "Even got m'self the cutest little apologies—"

With any remaining energy you had, you playfully whacked him on the arm and cut him off, to which he faked a wince. He had forgotten the bodily difference in stamina between you two.

"Ouch— fudge, darlin', at least you got some spark left in ya. Fine, 'ma buy you a… no, ten dresses in turn, 'kay?" He pressed a small kiss on your forehead then eyed the dimly lit room, catching sight of the hat that had tumbled off your head at some point and the jacket he had teasingly thrown off. "For now, 'm jacket and that hat are gonna have to do."

"Oh, fuck you—" You scoff, your head in the curl of his elbow.

He smiled, running his hand through your hair. "C'mon, y'wanted to wear that hat so badly. Y'looked real good in it…"

♡ Please do not modify, steal, plagarise or post on other platforms without asking. Thank you!

[missdaytonawrites]

tr@ck 07 • e. williams

summary - perv!ellie hc's!

WC - 1k

cw/tw - as always, MDNI! 18+ content, ellie williams is a DAWG lmao, afab!reader, hyper-fem coded!reader, dub-con, mentions of marijiuana and paraphernalia, smut smut smuuuut, talk of strap-ons, fingering (r!receiving) and more lol.

A/N - hey slay queens and kings and things, no i dont want to talk about the phantom fic lolsies maybe one day i'll just quit bringing it up! this is to tie you nasty bitches over while i work on this little surprisssseeeeeeeee oooooohhh. and also! yes i am abbys specialest little princess but i love me some of ellie. so here! maybe this will be the catalyst for an ellabs fic

"met a girl who likes my body, said she wants to break your teeth."

• its already established within the tlou community, that ellie williams is a PERV! but like.. in my head? shes pervy like..

• she stares for just a little too long when you change in front of her. literally has to talk herself down from letting at a low whistle upon seeing the swell of your breasts.

• always finds a way to get you into lingerie stores when you two go out. lowkey ends up picking out every piece you buy bc… you love listening to her.

• perv!ellie cannot watch you eat/drink certain things because of the implied sensuality. popsicles? nope. pasta? absolutely not. drinking out of a straw? she’s gotta go.

• she was 110% the first person who got you high. quickly making it a habit, because you are even more pliant when you get all stoned.

• speaking of? in addition to your astonishing obedience when ya’ get all fucked up, ellie williams cannot deny how much she loves watching you wrap your lips around a pipe.

• the first time you get high with her, your eyes glaze over and your nipples harden through your little tank. she would scoot closer and flick one, “look at that, doll!” you just giggle and she waves the pipe in front of your face. “ain't it silly the way this stuff works!”

• takes secret photos of you laughing, bending over, getting dressed.

• perv!ellie dances with you in the kitchen. dancing turns into wrestling, and she loves wrestling because of how close she gets to be to you.

• brings you around her friends to show you off, like she doesn't get upset when they very obviously eye you. “this one’s mine. so back off..” she would tell them when one asks your relationship status.

• she sneaks little touches to your thighs or waist when you sleep.

• one night when you wake up from her touch and ask “whats goin’ on, els?” she just hushes you and tells you that “all friends do this, silly.” as she pulls you closer, spooning you. “just makin’ sure you sleep reeeal good!” later that night she def lets a few fingers slip beneath your panties.

• i’m a firm believer in the fact that ellie used to get stoned and go people-watching, used to. now she gets stoned and goes “you-watching.” like, since meeting you, her favorite pastime has become sparkin’ up, and watching you! things like picking up your room, baking, doing your makeup or hair. its all so interesting, you are so interesting.

• she steals your panties 100%. and maybe shoves them in her face when she touches herself. :0

• always finds a way to bring up sex. she will, without a doubt, ask you blatant questions about what's happening in your sex life. all she gets out of you is your detailed explanation on how you masturbate.

• you would tell her sometimes it's difficult to keep going at a certain point and that you don't think you’ve ever made yourself cum.

• and when she hears that? her eyes go wide. her mind runs rampid with filthy ideas. she feels like she's dreaming when she asks if you would show her, and you say yes..

• she could see the hesitation in your eyes at the questions first proposal… but ellie, ever the charmer, prods until she hears what she wants.

• pulling you close and hushing you, she would say: “this is normal baby, cross my heart!” then throw her hands up in defense before leaning in to close the space between you two.

• after that, her hands are everywhereee!!! on your waist, sliding up your back then down to squeeze your ass, up again to tangle in your hair and then dropping the slightest bit to cup your face.

• when she reaches further down and realizes that you aren't wearing any panties she swears you’re trying to kill her.

• “forgot how to put on panties sweetheart?” she’d chuckle at you, then spit on her fingers and resume her assault on your core.

• her fingers inside and her breath on your neck make it hard for you to speak but, even then you manage to tell her, “no! didnt forget els!” and so she laughs some more, stops touching you and prys, “well then where’d your cute little panties go, doll?”

• in that moment, you let out an exasperated breath and come clean. “hnng! they got all sticky and hot when i thought about seeing you today, so i took em’ off!!!” you sound on the verge of tears.

• perv!ellie could no longer take it, she pushes you down onto your bed and starts to work on you. slender fingers circling your clit and she bites and licks at your neck. “yeah? got all excited ‘cause i was comin’ over?”

• when you dont answer her.. she gathers up a rather obscene glob of your arousal and brings it up to swipe across your nose, like you're a little puppy in trouble.

• “i asked you a question doll, its rude to ignore people.” all you could offer her was a long, incoherent string of whines with a possible “yes!” thrown in there somewhere.

• at that point, it doesn't take her more than fifteen minutes to finger you to completion, and have her strap on and ready for you.

• ellie fucks into you with nothing but unbridled stamina. never letting up, no, how could she? shes been waiting for this.

• and god, you look like heaven personified underneath her. she was convinced she could cum on the spot from that alone.

• after about 4 orgasms from your end, ellie has to literally pull herself away from you.

• perv!ellie could stay so deep in your pussy for hours on end, she would never leave if she didn't have to. she could work on you until you saw starts.

• the little perv quickly turns into a massive simp the second your head hits her chest and your eyelids flutter.

• “n-no doll, gotta clean you up.” but she just simply cannot stop having you near her, so she carries you to the bathroom and wipes you off.

• the encounter has you woken up a bit and when she gets you back into your room she lays you down, then searches around the floor for her pants.

• pulling out a joint and a lighter, she says “can’t just fuck you like that and not smoke you out after..”

• perv!ellie sleeps like a goddamn baby that night, the taste of you still on her tounge and her head on your tummy.

hope the ellie giiirls love this! happy 4th to those who celebrate ✨

[nanamis-bigtie]

ꕥ in the heat of spring | confessions feat. geto suguru x reader ꕥ jjk masterlist // ao3 version

content warnings: pwp, reader has a vagina, roleplaying, religion kink/priest fetish, reader is aroused by the feeling of shame, humiliation, fingering, piv sex, creampie word count: 4.3k mood prompt: embarrassed and shy kink prompt: priests/nuns requested by: @honey-dekua/n: i think i'll stop giving myself limits because i don't keep faithful to them anyway LMAO ngl, i'm proud of how this text turned out, even if it's way more stretched than intended. i guess catholic guilt the kink is strong!

Anticipation has your body tense like a string. Your mouth feels dry, too dry to speak, so you take your time lingering by the door, hand clenched on the handle. If you opened it now, you surely would just shriek instead of greeting him with a sultry, playful voice, as you planned. Well, in this state you surely would trip over your stiff legs too. Speak about breaking the character even before the play starts...

You take a deep, shaky breath, trying to grab the reins of your frantic nerves. Excitement isn't your ally now, nor isn't the dampness you already feel in your underwear. Embarrassment and uneasiness are welcomed in this particular scene, but you would rather have them as extras to it, not as the main characters. It was your idea and the fruit of months-long pleading, negotiations, and preparations, after all.

You wouldn't hear the end of it, if he picked up how much it costs you to keep calm and stick to the role.

Exhaling is easier, the flow of air doesn't falter, and your shoulders finally let go of the unnaturally stiff frame. Now or never. If you prolong this meditation, if you don't step over the threshold right here and now, you will ruin all the hard work that brought you here. He will get concerned and suspicious, he will open the door on his own and see you in a complete disarray.

Something at the back of your head prompts you to cross yourself for good luck—and you oblige, taking it as a perfect way to get into character.

You knock, three shy, barely audible taps.

He gives you no time to collect yourself again, his answer is faster than the faint echo disappearing into the hall behind your back, "Please, come in."

You take a step in—and almost slam the door closed again.

You thought you were prepared for that. He might be a false monk but it's a role that's become his second skin. The attire he chose for now is different, and the religion and its symbols might be alien to him—but does a catholic priest fall that far from other priests? He was doomed to be good in this role, maybe too good for your own demise. You considered that and prepared yourself for the consequences.

Yet, Geto looks so authentic that you didn't recognize him at first. He's...too natural, uncanny almost. Black cassock, even if visibly too tight for a man of such huge posture, suits him even better than the layers of robes he wears anywhere outside the privacy of the house. He's nailing that mysterious, casual elegance with ease, humble and insular yet beaming with the charisma of a leader. He's sitting in his chair straight but not stiff, holding the Bible open as if it weighed nothing in his big hands, one of his long fingers serving him as a temporary bookmark. His hair is tied into a tight knot at the back of his head, giving an excellent illusion of keeping it short. Glasses are an unusual yet suiting accessory; lowered almost to the tip of his nose, they add depth and domination to his gaze as he's scanning your figure curiously.

"Yes, my child?" He asks, voice soft yet menacing, like the rustle of prowling cat's feet.

Your saliva is thick like tar and you almost choke trying to swallow it.

"Please, help me, Father," you're barely keeping your voice in check. Sultry be damned, you're fighting to sound at least natural. "I need your advice."

Geto slowly closes the book, sets it aside as he's adjusting his position, leaning more towards you, cutting the mental distance between the two of you. Good, caring shepherd, worried for his little lost lamb, "Come in. Tell me, what's troubling your mind?"

Embarrassment is expected from your role in this moment, so following comes to you much easier than the opening sequence. You close the door and approach closer while still keeping the timid distance. He's silent and patient, just his gaze weights on you, threatening your legs to go limp and wobbly. The fluffy rug you like so much in your shared bedroom is like a trap now, ready at any moment to trip you and throw you to your knees right in front of him.

"I must...have been possessed, Father." You confess, averting your eyes, and clasp your hands at your abdomen, like a good, little, shy student.

Geto's eyebrows cock up in a perfectly played surprise. He rubs his chin in thought as he studies your expression intently, "And why is that? What brought you to this conclusion?"

Heat spreading all over your face in a not-so-feigned abashment, you reel the story off: everything you've come up together for this night. There are dreams, of lust and dark desires you dread to name. They come to you every night and turn your thoughts away from your prayers. The more religiously you try to praise the Lord, the stronger and trickier they get once you lie down. There's no escape for a poor, little lamb like you; soothing darkness brings temptation, avoiding rest has your mind more prone to succumbing to them.

Geto listens, still hidden under the cover of an exemplary priest. Resting chin in his palm, he asks and investigates, presses you whenever you stutter, and gives you the little needle when you try to stray around the topic to sound less sinful. He would be such an excellent preacher if he wasn't a wolf, prowling patiently at your tracks and waiting for your neck to arch nicely for his fangs. And he does so with sugar-coated words and a voice so sweet that you sip from his lips like parched, unaware of the trap he leads you into—while knowing well where and how this conversation will lead.

His power is terrifying, you know it better than anyone, and you squeeze your thighs tighter as you hunch under his gaze, trying to hide what's obvious and avoid what's unrelenting.

"When did those dreams start?" The question finally appears and Geto's eyes narrow at your not-so-played-anymore flinch. "Do you know what could have caused them?"

You avert your eyes, the wave of shame and arousal washing over you and pearling sweat at your temples.

"There's nothing to be shy about, my child." He leans to the back of the chair, his posture open and welcoming, so safe. "I only want to help."

This part of play calls for silence—but you wouldn't find any words in you even if you were scripted to speak. You bite on lips and shift your weight from one leg to another, uncomfortable when stripped so bluffly. You're losing control—you doubt if you even had it in the first place—and the less confident you feel around him, the softer and wobblier your knees are. You're tempted to fall to them, just to relieve yourself of this unbearable tension, to hide the arousal that runs dead even with embarrassment.

Shame is such a delicious drug.

"I won't be able to help you, if you hide something from me." Geto's soft, caring smile sends cold shivers down your spine. He beckons you closer, arms wide open to welcome you in his proximity. "Come here, child, and speak into my ear, if you fear to confess aloud."

You fear more to trip as soon as you move—but you, obedient like a sacrificial lamb, approach closer, and let him lay his hands at your waist. They're soft and warm—but leave you no way to run as they pull you close, right into his lap. You're stiff and hesitant, craving to nuzzle close to his broad chest, to let those strong arms engulf you and shield you from everything unholy—but you know there's nothing more unholy than what you're doing right now.

"Speak, my child." He commands and grabs your chin oh so gently when you try to turn away. "Don't be afraid. Our lord is full of grace and mercy."

"It started—" You stutter and clean your throat, painfully dry with anticipation. "—started after I was... Touching myself."

One of his hands strays from your middle to your hip, then to your thigh, "How did you touch yourself? Where exactly?"

Your heartbeat is thudding in your ears, swallowing every sound but its racing rhythm. It has your head spinning, your vision blurry—yet you're unable to escape his piercing gaze, unable to avert your eyes again. Your breath is shallow, and you don't dare to take a deeper one in; his smell is different, heavier, rich of incense and anointing oil, as if he left Lord's altar right before he agreed to listen to your shameful confessions. If you caved in and inhaled it, it would drug you, would strip you of the remains of self-control and dignity. It's tempting to turn into a trusting, stupid lamb entirely, but in the midst of the need twisting your brain you decide it's not something you want to give him...yet.

As you ponder over the next line—or rather: desperately fight for the reins to remain in your hands—his hand smoothly wanders towards the inner side of your thigh. You clench your legs together, but it still finds a way to sneak in between, right at the core of your embarrassment.

Can he already feel how wet you are for him? His fingers press tighter and rub at your sex through the pants—and you yelp through clenched teeth. It's not a loud sound, you almost managed to drown it out, but in such a silent room—silent like a confessional—it has the power of a scream.

"It was here, wasn't it?" Geto whispers into your ear, keeping you tight and close with the other arm still around your waist. His fingers start to move, flowingly, along the line of your slit, and the more you clench your legs and squirm, the more prominent the pressure becomes. "You invited the lustful spirit to the most sacred part of your body."

You want to admit, lie, and plead for mercy at the same time, so you only squeal and put all might you still possess into closing your legs. They open pathetically a second later, as soon as the tip of his hot tongue teases your ear.

"Do you want me to get rid of it?" He presses soft, barely palpable, kisses to your jaw and neck. "With the power of The Almighty I may clean your soul and bring peace to your mind."

You clench your thighs again, this time trying to trap his slowly withdrawing hand and steal some friction. Geto pulls it out with ease and faint yet mean smirk on his face. He has you in his trap whole now and he has no itch for satisfying your whims until you do as he pleases—and you know he's not going to make it easy for you. Tormenting his prey is his favorite part of the hunt. His eyes darken just at the thought; they promise tonight the shearing blade won't stop at the wool.

"I need your voice, child." He cups your chin into his palm and guides you to look straight at him. "Speak."

"Please." You barely recognize the sound squeezing through your throat now as your voice. "Help me, Father Geto."

"I shall, then."

You're gently pushed off his lap and guided to sit at the edge of bed instead. For the first time since what feels like forever now you take a deeper breath, not until the dull ache in your lungs eased you realize how badly you needed it. You could use some relaxation for your muscles too, but you can't bring yourself to move, even your eyes are set exactly in the same place: looking straight at Geto as he's taking his cassock off. It's a ritual on its own, each little button is given its fair share of special attention from fingers that just a moment ago caressed your sex. Underneath there's another barrier of black clothes: plain shirt and jeans, both hugging his well-sculpted body so tight that they seem to be one move away from tearing. Even so, he moves around with grace, each move calculated to keep you right on the edge but not bored or frustrated.

Finally, the cassock is folded and put away, the Bible is closed, the light limited to the small lamp on the bed stand. Geto returns to his chair, hand prompted on palm as he stares at you intently, like a bird of prey.

"Strip, my child." He whispers more than just says and yet, you jerk in place as if he shouted at you.

Your hands get into each other's way even if you're not in a hurry. You know you're going to get scolded, softly, if you're going to be sloppy, it doesn't make you any less clumsy, though. You wish you could say it's a part of your role, but you really can't control your moves as much as you would like to. There's something in his eyes that makes you behave in a reprimanding-worth way. He always gets what he wants—and if he wants to punish you, sooner or later you will succumb into misbehavior.

Good lambs always listen to their shepherd.

He doesn't pay much attention to clumsiness and disarray, though. Instead, his eyes take in the view of your body, from your fluttering lips, down your chest and your nipples, perky with anticipation, to your legs you're struggling to free from the pants. When you finally kick them off and return to the proper and tense sitting position, he furrows his brow, showing a negative reaction for the first time tonight.

"I thought I told you to strip?"

You flick your gaze down, to underwear still covering what it should, and you hook thumbs under the elastic band, ready to pull everything down...but you linger, true to words you're saying next, "It's embarrassing."

Geto clicks his tongue, displeased, and gets up, in two steps closing the distance and looking down at you, now. Hand cupping your face is rougher this time as he tilts your head back. Mewl dies in your throat when your eyes meet—and you find no mercy nor warmth in his.

"Was it embarrassing too when you shamelessly spread your legs for the demon to penetrate your body? If you wish to wash your disgusting sins away, I repeat: strip."

Not daring to look away, you clumsily roll your underwear down to your ankles.

"Now, that's a good little lamb."

His hold eases and he caresses your cheek now, smiling down at you in a way that has cold shivers running down your spine.

Next, he wants you to climb to the head of the bed and you follow, feeling no safer on the familiar softness. You lie down against the pillows as instructed and bend legs in knees. You hesitate when asked to spread them as wide as you can, genuine embarrassment winning over you anew.

"Don't linger, my child," Geto narrows his eyes, a warning he might snap again, if you don't listen. "Show me the place you besmeared."

Figuring closing eyes may help you, you do so and follow his wish to the final step. Air feels extra cold against your exposed cunt—intoxicating contrast to your hot juices dripping down your labia and ass. For the longest time nothing happens, no word is said, until eventually the bed creaks and you feel Geto scooting closer to you. Your body is tense like a string, shaking from anticipation, but you don't dare to sneak a peek at him and whatever he's doing. You fear you may fall apart if you see his expression as he's appraising your sex and the influence your sin had on it.

"What were you thinking about when you were touching yourself?" He says after a painfully stretched moment. He's closer than you estimated from the way the mattress dipped by your side, probably sitting or kneeling right between your legs.

"I—" You lick your lips, desperately trying to squeeze any moisture, but nerves parched everything to crisp. If he's going to make you scream tonight, you can say goodbye to your voice for the next day if not longer. "Can't remember details. But—"

"But?"

There's impatience in his voice and as much as you're tempted to see what is Geto going to do if you test his limits, this is not on the menu for this scene—so you push the bashfulness away as much as you can and follow the scenario, "I was thinking about you, Father Geto."

He must have been expecting you to resist for longer—the silence on his side is too long to be just played. But there's no further trace of surprise, when he speaks, his voice is as calm as it can be, given the circumstances of the play. "You're pulling me into this sin with you, child."

The bed creaks, he's scooting closer, his body bears down on your knees now. His hand finds its way to your sex again, this time touching it without any barrier in between you two. It takes everything from you to not meet him half-way; you're frozen in place like a terrified, filled with shame lamb should when he's slowly caressing your slit, then tracing at the rim of your hole. You're so wet he could slide anything he wanted in just like that, no preparations needed, but he's treating you as carefully as if you were a virgin offered to him on a holy altar. 

This tenderness, the quiescence he enforced with his demeanor, drives you crazy.

"You claim you can't remember details..." Geto muses, his breath ghosting over your cunt as he starts to slide a single finger in. "But those must have been many, many thoughts. Your body is begging for my blessings."

The process repeats: he teases you with one digit only until you're on the verge of giving in. He knows well you need much more than this silly play but he's not going to give it to you even if you beg, not until he is satisfied with the mess you're becoming. Second, then third finger in, he keeps heating you up but straying away from anything that could pull you closer to the sweet release. You're not a lamb anymore, just a plaything, putty in his hands, too ashamed to beg for it, too scared to ask for more at the face of rejection and even longer torture. Here and there he changes the angle to brush at your walls exactly how you like it—but as soon as you mewl or buck your hips, mercy is denied and he clicks his tongue, scolding you for being an impatient child.

But even Geto can find some mercy in him. Right as you think you're going to lose your mind if he keeps stretching you for nothing, he pulls his fingers out and kisses your clit. This short, almost affectionate touch has you thrashing on the sheets; you crave that release so bad it hurts, hurts for real, you can accumulate only as much pent-up desire, and you're about to burst, not in a way you need it.

He lets you calm your breathing and even your senses before he orders you to open your eyes—for you to see him licking his fingers clean of your juices.

"You taste so sweet, my child." Immense pleasure ruins his collected expression just for a second, when he sucks the last drops of you from his fingertips. "Almost as if there was no sin in you..."

A click of a belt, a rustle of zipper and clothes slipped out of the way, and Geto is close to you again, one hand keeping one of your legs nice and open, the other guiding his dick to brush against the wet mess he's turned your pussy into. You both groan when his sensitive tip meets your clit, you: nudged towards the edge again, him: at the limit of his self-control. He lets go of your leg to throw his glasses and clergy collar away, then loosens his shirt; dark hair on his chest pours out of the gap and you have to fight the urge to run your fingers through it. The flick of your eyes is caught and met with a nod of approval, but you're so desperate to have him finally fuck you that you don't want to risk another delay, for any reason.

"I'm going to cleanse your soul," Geto moans more than says, almost ruining the character on his side, but you couldn't care less now, when finally feeling the pressure at your hole. He slides the tip in, slowly, but not in the same, teasing way. It's a deliberate act of immense self-control; if not for the fog in your eyes and your mewls still calling him a "Father", he would be already fucking you stupid, your ankles hooked on his shoulders. He puts it in only as much to let you feel it, to have your cunt finally spasm around what you craved the most. And instead of thrusting into you, he touches your clit again, gently at first, then with precise, circular moves that have your eyes roll back in no time.

After being played with for so long, from the strict confession to his fingers spreading you open, you don't need much, and soon you're creaming over his cock, over and over, as if all this pent-up tension needed a few orgasms before it would be gone. It could be indeed a few of them or just one big and mercilessly prolonged as Geto is still rubbing your clit, deaf to your cries and blind to your hands clawing at his shoulders.

The touch ceases as sharply as it started but you're not even fully back from your high when it returns, together with his dick slamming full into you all at once. You swallow and squeeze him tight, your exhausted, oversensitive body arching and squirming. He uses his whole weight to pin it down into submission, fucking you through the last spasms of your orgasm and more, more than you can handle—and what you take regardless, your throat almost worn of cries of his name.

You beg him to cum, you beg him to stop right to beg him to fuck you harder shortly after, you beg to be destroyed—never mind your "sin", you want to burn whole and take him with you.

You beg—but all that breaks out of your lips are moans.

Even Geto has his limits and eventually his hips start to stutter before he buries himself whole in you, his pubes tickling your tortured clit, as he releases his load. He thrusts a few more times, fucking it deeper, and finally ceases, satisfied, his heavy, hot body pressing you flat into the bed.

It's stifling, uncomfortable even with his clothes grazing your naked body, but he soon lifts himself on straight arms, then sits on heels while pulling your hips closer; he's still in you but now you can breathe as deep as you want and slowly regain control over your senses and body. You keep silent, partially too lazy to find words, partially unsure how you should act now. You haven't discussed that part in detail, and the bliss has pushed you out of your character: just a little but enough to block any attempt of improvisation. Geto's content expression is not much of help either; after a short consideration you abandon the attempt of deciphering him, instead taking as much as you can from this calm moment, in case he's keen to torturing you more soon.

Geto just rocks his hips one more time before pulling out of you and setting your limp legs wide apart. Pleased with himself, he looks at your messy cunt and gently traces your slit, so gently you, despite your nerves fried to your limits, barely can feel it. With a hum of agreement on your side, he continues and slides two fingers into you, squeezing some of his cum until it flows down to his knuckles.

"Praise the Lord for how well-bred his sheep are." He says with a smug smile, and it finally earns him a reaction. With an embarrassed—or rather: disconcerted—groan you grab the nearest pillow and smack him over the head.

He lets you, even chuckles a little when you take an aim for a second one.

"What's up with those corny jokes, out of sudden?" You huff when the pillow is taken away from you and thrown out of your reach.

Geto tucks his dick back into his pants, then takes the shirt off and lets his hair down. He lies by your side, head prompted on palm, free hand reaching to wipe sweat off your forehead, "Would a corny love confession from priest to his lamb be better?"

You roll to your side with a spent sigh, strong arm soon pulling you close, face into his chest, "Only if you aimed to dissolve me with embarrassment."

His expression is, as it often is with Geto, hard to read, but he settles on a genuine smile and a soft kiss pressed to the crown of your head, "Is my love such a struggle to you, my lamb?"

"Maybe a little." His natural, familiar, scent is breaking through the cologne he used for tonight, so you bask in it, pressing your nose to him as close as you can without suffocating yourself. "But, as you saw, I really like when you make me struggle."

thank you so much for reading ❤ i'll be really happy, if you reblog it and/or leave some feedback! you can read more of my jjk fics here.

tag list: @lale-txt @mirkaaaluv @ohnococo @clumsyraccoon

[nenasspot]

finally here to drop on you: some thoughts on the first ep of starlight boys!

the auditions I have something to say about

blood sweat and tears: ke ming kai, li sheng jun and sheng qi

way too hard song choice. I get why so many trainees would choose a bts song, but why this song? please someone point me towards a cover of bs &t that had the same aura as the original, bc at this point i'm convinced it is uncoverable. the pitch of it, too, is so dangerous in the way that if you don't get the feel of that intro right, you're lost immediately...

breathe: syo and ryou kaito

don't like syo's style of singing. japanese vocal style that will need to go. otherwise, I'm actually pretty neutral about it.

darari: kim seong ju

not him going platinum seller with the trainees lmao. I mean, if anything, it proved the guiders right in giving him one star

crazy form: kim seon jae, han jeong woo and choi jun ho

obviously have been trained. something about the intro was way off, idk if it was the pitch or if it was just done monotonously but it got my sibling and me real scared. not necessary though! the rest of it was pretty great!

black suit: shao zi heng

WOW. he's really good, stable, good pronunciation and mindset, BEAUTIFUL too. spoilers include that he's in my top9 right now. I got real shady vibes at first, about the level of humbled he was giving ... felt like an act for a minute there, but it was probably just the nerves!

my house: han gyul, do ha, min jae, yoo jun

the babies did so great... the AURA in this performance was insane. the synchronized choreo at the start?? oh, these are idols, is what you're telling me

fantastic baby: rex, zhang ji jun and yang yan

I did not enjoy this. audition performances need to showcase skill and potential. if part of your potential is showmanship, then great. if you utilize showmanship purely to draw attention, then there was no potential shown. I can get why the trainees might have liked it though (song choice, atmosphere yada yada)

love 119: wang kun, he xi long, ngan chau yuet, float and zhang jing he

pretty much neutral about this. wasn't bad by any means, but I also already forgot all of them except wang kun

really really: nam son, lee da eul, park yeon wook and jeon min gyu

are they giving da eul another came from the bottom narrative? I feel like he should have come on by himself instead..

rush hour: lee jun hyuk

VERY impressive to do as a one-man performance. entertaining, stable

good guy: pentor and kris

so happy to see an sf9 performance! and done this well?? damn near brought tears to my eyes. pentor has a bright bright future ahead, and kris was also not to be forgotten!

answer: duan xing xing, yoo gwan woo and sun ying hao

xing xing is so much fun to watch!! it's obvious he's also having fun, and to be this stable while also being entertaining to look at is a real feat!

other things I need to talk about:

donghwa

I NEED him to do well!! I've missed him so much, the tension in my body any time a solo trainee stepped through that tunnel only for it to not be him was crazy, my sibling is my witness lmao

they put him all by himself, way up there, and I'm crossing all my fingers, and my toes too, that he doesn't let that add to his nerves but I feel like it's inevitable

his nose is still very pretty, he's wearing a mesh turtleneck, he's doing a song that has bodyrolls..... they put him last in the round-up of trainees that still have to go (way at the end of the ep) so let's hope that's a good thing!!

hangyul, baby. I first met you through a survival show, and I was very thankful for it then. seeing as you didn't debut with the unit, I was also glad to see you in px101. but they messed you over, put something in front of you that was the realization of your dream, only for it to be taken away...

the fact that trainees were like "he was in X1!" damn near put me out. I know that you have a shit label, that they're really just looking for viral moment after viral moment to keep the group in the collective memory. but I also know that this might help you to advance once more, get closer to that realization again.

so now that you're back here, and in a context where I'm able to vote for you, please believe that I will. we'll do our damnedest to not let you down, gyul.

[bearvanhelsing]

❌💋💛 for Tyrel, 🌹🧡🌳 for Aria?

Hoo boy this one took me a really long time for what amounted to not very long answers! lol ARIA: 🌹 How easy is it for them to connect with others and make friends? On the flip side how easy is it for them to make an enemy of someone? Are they the kind of person who hangs around the food table at a party and never talks to anyone or are they the type who can talk to anyone? Even before her father's death, Aria has always had a hard time connecting with people. She was very outgoing and sweet as a little girl but was bullied by other children quite a bit on account of being Kitsune which are somewhat unusual in Absalom. After that she became much quieter, and adults often remarked on well-mannered she was. It was the first time she observed that people seem to like her more when she's not talking. As a result of this and an ever-growing sense of bitterness towards Absalom's aristocracy, she actually decided that she would become rather talkative as she grew older, and that she'd speak what's on her mind rather bluntly. She's not one to bother with pleasantries and she'll usually say exactly what she thinks of anyone as long as it's not pleasant. So, she is one to mingle at any social gathering, but she won't be very popular for it. In truth she finds her inability to get close to anyone rather frustrating, but she does it as a kind of defense mechanism and it has become very difficult for her to behave in any other way at this point. 🧡 Who is your OC’s favourite person? Why is this person the top of their list and have they actually met them (an idol or rolemodel or celeb can be someone’s favourite after all!) Aria's great grandfather, Tetsuo is sort of an idol to her. He makes it very clear that she doesn't have his approval and that what he does offer is conditional, but he is the only person Aria can really talk to. If Aria has a problem, he can make it go away, if she needs to vent, he will sit quietly and listen usually without a remark or condemnation. He thinks of her as a blunt instrument that doesn't have that much use outside of its capacity for violence, but he begrudgingly fosters loyalty in her to keep her from doing something exceedingly stupid that could damage the family's reputation. Aside from him, she currently has some rather promising blossoming friendships in the party, mainly with our Dhampir investigator Lumi and a little bit with our human oracle Marcus! She's having a girl's night with Lumi and our thaumaturge, Zuzanna so fingers crossed the girls can all become besties lmao 🌳 Compare your OC to themself from 10 years ago. How has their mental state changed since then, how have they aged and grown up? Would they say they’re in a better place than they were back then or do they need help? What advice would they give their younger self? What advice would their younger self give to them now?

Aria is only 21 so 10 years ago she was a relatively happy and carefree 11-year-old to a very cynical and bitter young woman. She's gone from being teased for her appearance to being considered something of an exotic beauty in the city, albeit one most know better than to attempt to mingle with. Aria maybe more so than any of my other characters needs help lmao Advice to her past self would probably be "you don't have to take it from them, you don't have to act the way they want you to. fight back." advice from her younger self would probably be "you don't have to be scared and angry all the time" TYREL: ❌ What kind of things would end any relationship for them? Is there a history behind why these things bother them? Could they ever take someone back despite this? If so or if not, why? As far as his relationship with Camellia goes, Tyrel is VERY lenient. You kind of have to be with her, like... he wasn't a murderer before he started dating her lmao. The only things that really come to mind are super obvious ones like cheating. Ty is very loyal to his gal so that would be very sad for him! 💋 How affectionate are they with their friends? Their family? Their romantic partner(s) (if they have any)? Are they more physical or emotional when it comes to displaying their affection? Why? Tyrel isn't very affectionate with friends! he cares about friends a lot but doesn't really feel comfortable being affectionate with them. When it comes to romantic partners and family (his with camellia) he's very affectionate. He leans more toward physical affection because he has a hard time articulating his emotions honestly. When his daughter was born he could barely ever put her down and he and Camellia are very physically intimate. He wraps his tail around her when he notices she's having a bad dream :') 💛 In general, how in control of their emotions is your OC? Do they have a good hold on them or do their emotions control them, not the other way around? What do you think is the reason behind this and is your OC ever concerned about their lack of or good control? Tyrel I'd actually describe as someone who is in very good control of his emotions. He's slow to anger, and in general, he usually lets logic rather than feeling guide his actions even though his logic might be more chaotic than his feelings. Tyrel has always had to be in control of his emotions because if he let the wrong one slip during a con, he could have landed himself in big trouble.

[theyarebothgunshot]

since we're talking about friendships and all that, let me present to you all: Ladybug Anon's Relationship Drama™! (a.k.a. oh this is definitely not gonna resolve itself anytime soon lmao)

so the gist of it is that i'm in a friends with benefits relationship with the person i have feelings for.

to put a long story short, we've been really close friends for over a year, and it's always been of the sometimes flirty, homoerotic variety, and i caught feelings. and then last february they got a boyfriend. and after some brief heartbreak, i was totally okay with it, and i could let my feelings go.

so months passed like that, and then she mentioned in a group conversation that she was actually reluctant at first to ask the guy out, because 'it was a pretty sudden realization of feelings, and there was also this girl...' and i was like. no way. no fucking way. but apparently yes way cause then they told me that it WAS me and i was sitting there just like. huh. that's sad. oh well!

and then in september they and their boyfriend split up. and for a while i was trying to convince myself that it didn't make anything different, but then our friendship doubled down on the flirtyness that it's always had, and i fell for her again.

and so about a month ago, we were talking at like 3 in the morning, and we were jokingly suggestive, and then suddenly it wasn't joking anymore, and so they came over. and we talked about feelings and stuff, and they said that they're not really in the right place mentally for a relationship, and i promised them that i won't let my heart get broken by them (cause they were worried about that), and then we hooked up, and decided that it doesn't have to be a one-time thing.

and the thing is that like. i'm pretty okay with all of it. like obviously i would be happier if we were together, but i'm honestly happy with how things are, because it hasn't affected our friendship either (though that's something i'm still a little worried about lol). but sometimes i'll just think about it and like. well this sure is a. situation nsfshfd

i am aware that this sounds like a fanfic or a soap opera plot btw nsfsgsgdts i swear if my life keeps being like this i'm gonna start to think i'm the main character lmaoo (sorry for getting rambly it's just. a long and complicated story lol) 🐞

ooffff that sure is a situation!! but i feel like, as long as you are sill okay with it and enjoying it, i am obviously happy for you for taking the step and having a good time with someone you are into <3 i will be crossing my fingers for you that it will all work out well in the end (however that may take form)!!

[residuex]

@cxrleonis

"Okay, so,” Ethan handed her a bottle of water as he joined her on the blanket she’d placed over the ground. It’d been a couple of days since he’d walked in on her crying, and though he was still concerned he would not ask for information she wasn’t ready to share. So, instead, he’d brought her to his favorite park and spot to look up at the sky with his telescope. “It’s still a little early to go looking for stars, but I thought it’d be a fun thing to do today. I know, I know, kind of nerdy, but...yeah, that’s me.”

[sipsteainanxiety]

devil's glare || katsuki b.

pairing: demon!bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 8.7k+

mentions: modern au where there are supernatural beings hiding amongst the population, no pronouns mentioned i think!, tho there might be implied fem reader idk, pining & lots of it, fluff, kinda spicy/suggestive near the end, innuendos galore, human reader, salt circles keep out demons if u didnt know tht

a/n: idk why but i felt like boo boo the fool while making the banner LMAO this wasn't supposed to be this long but i couldn't help myself. special thank u to @/reddriot, @/cellotonins, & my homies in the jjgc for helping me w ideas and giving encouragement!! ly<3 hope u guys enjoy!!

✧˖° bakugou katsuki is a powerful demon that you have the pleasure of dating. but when he pisses you off one day, you decide to get back at him in a pretty petty way: drawing a salt circle around you to force him to apologize.

"Hey! Whatcha up to?"

You glanced up, your eyes landing on the familiar slim figure of Mina as she stood a few meters away from you. You gave her a wave, your body nestled comfortably in the green beanbag chair you had in your cozy little living room.

"Hey!" you greeted her as you sat up slightly and adjusted your laptop on your thighs. "How'd you get in here? I thought I'd locked the door?"

"Spare key, remember?" She grinned sharply at you, holding up a pink hand that had a tiny silver key pinched between her thumb and index fingers. Of course. You rolled your eyes, flapping a hand at her so she could tell you why she was breaking into your house on a Saturday evening. "Soooo.... I thought we could hang, but I see you’re a bit preoccupied."

"Whatever gave you that idea?" you asked dryly, raising an eyebrow at her from behind your laptop screen.

"Gee, let me guess." She hummed as she tapped her chin before looking pointedly down at the wooden floor. You followed her gaze. "Maybe the fucking salt circle you have around you?"

You sighed. "Yeah, I’m kinda pissed at Katsuki. I don't want him coming anywhere near me, is all. For now."

She pouted at you, her arms crossing themselves over her chest. "But the salt circle also keeps me out, you know."

You cocked your head to the side and squinted at her—her and her pink skin and pretty dark sclera. "I thought you were a shapeshifter?"

"Yeah, but I'm also part succubus," she said as she puffed her cheeks out like she was a toddler and not a fucking supernatural being, pointing to the yellow horns that stuck out from her pink hair. You only shrugged at her.

"Sorry Mina, but I'm not getting rid of the salt circle," you told her apologetically. You were very comfortable and safe inside of it, thank you very much. You wouldn't jeopardize that, even for her.

"How long have you been like this anyways?" she asked, leaning her body against the opening to the living room that led down to the front door. "And are you... okay?"

Your expression softened at her concern. "I'm fine, honestly! Just a bit peeved at him, but he's a brat, y'know? Maybe the salt circle will teach him a lesson." You glanced at the analog clock that hung up on the wall to your right, just above the T.V. "I've been here a few hours now." That was a lie. You've been like this for the entire day, waiting for when Katsuki would eventually make his way back home. You were patient, if not stubborn.

"Riiight," she rolled her golden coins for eyes at you, "and where's Katsuki?"

You shrugged. "Beats me. The last time I saw him was this morning."

"So he doesn't know you did," she waved her hand at the floor, "this?"

"Nope! We had a bit of a…” you paused, searching for the right word, “...disagreement, and then he went off to do… whatever he does."

"Actually I saw him like, an hour ago with Eiji," she told you, standing up straight to rock back and forth on her heels. A dimple formed on her cheek as she curled her lips to the side. "He might be on his way back here, I dunno."

"Oh," you blinked at her, then ran a hand through your hair, "he might be, yeah. He usually comes back home around this time."

"Yup, yup!" She gave you a thumbs up only for her expression to suddenly twist into a sad pout. "So I’m guessing no hangout night?" She made a sadder face that drew a small laugh from you.

You gave her an apologetic look and sank back into your beanbag, propping your feet up on the small coffee table you had positioned in front of the couch. You’d made the circle large enough that it contained a decent amount of space in addition to the table and couch. "Aw, I’m sorry. Maybe some other day?"

"Boo, fine!" She let out a dramatic sigh, raising the back of her hand to her pink forehead. “When will I ever have you to myself instead of stinky Katsuki, my love?” You rolled your eyes in good nature, giggling at her antics. She shot you a grin, her skin shifting into a light brown shade as she gave you a little salute. She turned on her heels to skip her way out of the front door, lest she get caught up in the raging hellfire that was Bakugou Katsuki. "Call me if you need anything! Laterz!"

"Bye!" you called out wryly, a bit amused at her coming to see you for what was literally five minutes. You felt a bit bad, but well, you had other things to deal with.

The moment the front door clicked shut, you felt that signature ripple through the air that made the hairs on your arms raise—the one that always told you he was near. The temperature in the room got slightly warmer and you sighed, returning your focus to your laptop. You could see, from the corner of your eye, the way the shadows of your home seemed to be drawn towards the corner of the living room that was the darkest, right outside of the salt circle. You huffed. He was so dramatic.

You ignored him as he stepped out from the darkness, all tanned muscle and sharp, sharp claws. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, to your annoyance, his sculpted torso with all its rough scars on full display. Leathery, burgundy wings unfurled from his back, stretching outwards before curling neatly above him. Burning crimson eyes scanned his surroundings, his mouth opening in a fanged snarl as they eventually latched onto your form.

"The fuck is this?" Katsuki hissed as he stalked up to the circle and glared down at it as though it had personally offended him, his mother, and his father all at once.

"What?" you asked innocently, your gaze trained on your laptop instead of him. He let out another snarl at your lack of attention. "The salt circle?"

"No, the fuckin' T.V.—yes the fuckin' salt circle!"

"It's to keep you away from me," you informed him cheerfully, removing your feet from the table so you could stretch them out on the floor. You looked up at him when he made an angry noise. He started prowling around the circle, likely looking for any gaps in its circumference. He wasn't going to find any—you were very efficient when making it. Though, he certainly looked quite scary, stalking around you like that. Thank god you made the circle kind of big—he couldn't reach you at all, even if he wanted to try.

"You're pissed," he grumbled. He came to a stop somewhere near the T.V., his long, ruby red tail flicking back and forth behind him.

"No shit." You frowned at him, setting your laptop on the table so you could cross your arms at him from atop your throne of a beanbag.

He growled at you, an intimidating thing that came from the deepest part of his chest. You only tightened your position, glaring at him as he glared back with enough heat to rival the sun.

"'M not fuckin' messing around," he snarled, making himself appear bigger as he opened his wings a bit more. The black horns on his head cast shadows across his face in a way that made his eyes glow brighter. Like gleaming red giants in the night sky. "Get rid of the fucking circle."

"I'm not either," you huffed back, adamant on your position. "You need to stop putting my shit on the shelves I can’t reach!!! It’s annoying!!"

"You’re overreactin’," Katsuki said gruffly, hands curling and uncurling at his sides. Smoke puffed from his palms, little clouds of grey that dissipated in the air. “S’not my problem you’re tiny.”

"Am I?" you replied in irritation. "Speaking of that—making fun of how small I am in comparison to you is annoying as hell too!!"

He huffed and bared his canines at you. "Jus’ get outta the damn circle." He wasn’t acknowledging what you were saying!! The nerve he had.

"No." You frowned at him. He shot you a grumpy pout and started prowling around again, steps so heavy you could nearly feel them echoing through the floor.

You eyed him warily, leaning back slightly. "Are you going to stop teasing me? And apologize?" The way he scoffed and directed his glare off to the side told you what his response would be. You harrumphed and turned back to your laptop, pulling it back onto your lap. "Then I'm staying in here, whether you like it or not."

He growled some more. "Babe." You ignored him, tapping away at your keyboard. "Babe. You're bein' fucking dumb."

"Insulting me isn't gonna get you anywhere, Katsuki," you remarked dryly. He glowered at you.

"This is fuckin' stupid," he sniped at you. When you didn't say anything he swore loudly and shot his hands forward, aiming them at the salt circle. His knees bent slightly as he took on a fighting stance. "I'll jus’ blast this shit away! No way it's stronger than me—"

You snapped your head up, seeing the way his palms glowed a hot orange. Oh, he was being serious. You shouted at him, "Bakugou Katsuki if you blast a fucking hole in my floor I'll draw a salt circle around the whole house!!"

"I'll fix it." He grinned sharply, wildly, hands igniting in a blazing tangerine color that was a bright white at the center of his palms. You had just enough time to throw your hands over your head before a small explosion erupted throughout the living room. Your ears rang in the aftermath, your breaths bated.

You made a surprised sound, peeking your head from your arms to see the smoke that had swirled around you. Only, it was blocked by something, not able to enter into your space. You stood up and placed your hands on your hips as the smoke parted to reveal a scowling Katsuki. And a still intact salt circle.

You raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. "That just made me even more unlikely to come out, you know that right?"

Katsuki only snarled, hands still popping with tiny explosions. The scent of burnt caramel permeated through the air. "Whatever. Y'can't stay in there forever."

"Watch me," you retorted, the glint of a challenge shining in your eyes.

---

Katsuki wouldn’t leave you alone.

He was always lurking at the very edge of the salt circle, glaring at you so intensely you would’ve been dead ten times over if he had any power to kill with his eyes alone. You knew he was doing something trippy with his powers, forcing the shadows to cling to him to make himself look even scarier. He stayed in his more demonic-looking form, too—both you and him knew he could look normal if he wanted. If he was trying to intimidate you into submission, it wasn't working.

You bid your time, doing your best to ignore him and his dark presence at the corner of your vision. You watched a show on your laptop and snacked away at the takeout you were smart enough to order while he’d been out of the house.

Maybe you were being petty, maybe you were being mean, but well, he deserved to get knocked down a few pegs. The way he sometimes looked down at you—raising his stupidly perfect eyebrows—just got on your nerves. And when he purposely put your cooking supplies on the top shelves so you’d be forced to ask him for help… He knew what he was doing! He never allowed you to climb on top of the cupboards or on a chair either, always swooping in at the right time to snatch you by the waist and set you on the ground like you were a child and not a fully-grown adult. It was annoying! And also kind of… demeaning? Intentional or not.

You knew Katsuki. You knew his pride would prevent him from properly apologizing to you, especially since you were acting so pettily by not allowing him anywhere near you. He was stubborn, if not petulant, and this was what led him to sit outside your circle, pouting heavily at you with puffed cheeks. You were playing a game to see who would last longer, with the consequence being touch-starvation. And by god, you were determined to win.

A few hours passed like this, with him not moving from his seated position to your left. He had an arm propped on one of his knees that was bent up close to his chest. The way he hid his lower face behind it made the depth of his stare infinitely more piercing. He was clearly trying to burn the side of your head off, with how intense he was being. Luckily for you, you were basically immune, having known him for so long. You glanced over at him, the distance between the two of you, then sat up on your beanbag chair. It was getting pretty late and you were slightly sore from sitting in the same spot for so long.

You placed your laptop neatly on the table and stood up, stretching your arms and back out. It drew a deep sigh from you, and you rubbed at your hip before you turned to walk the five steps it took to get to Katsuki. You stopped just before the salt line and looked down at him. Then you waited, an expectant look on your face.

He glowered and shifted his long legs around so he could slowly stand up. Your head followed the motion, watching as he rolled his thick shoulders and stood at his full, towering height. His shadow drowned you, his burgundy wings extending out so it could curl above you in a threatening manner. You looked at him, ignoring the way he purposely flexed his pecs and cracked his neck. That wasn’t going to work on you.

So there you stood, pretty little you, dressed in fuzzy socks, sweats, and a shirt with a little bunny on it, staring up at this bristling, scowling demon as though he didn’t look like he was about to murder you with all the strength in his arms.

Katsuki snarled and his large hand shot out as though to grab you now that you were literal inches away from him. But something stopped him, something that made a vein pop out on his forehead. The muscles in his arm strained, but he couldn’t reach you. Couldn’t touch you. And you simply smirked.

“Giving up yet?” you asked him slyly, crossing your arms.

“Fuck you, human,” he bit back harshly as he drew back his hand. His voice was deep and raspy, nearly sending a shiver scuttling down your spine. His tail flicked irritably behind him. “Ya gotta get outta there eventually. Don’t y’have human needs you need to take care of before sleepin’?”

“What, like brushing my teeth and stuff?” You rolled your eyes and took a step back from him. He growled at you once you did, eyes unwavering as he continued to glare at you. “I can skip a night, if I have to, demon.”

His chin wrinkled as he pouted. “S’not proper hygiene.”

“Yeah, but I’m not leaving the circle,” you replied cheerfully as you walked over to your laptop to shut it down. You took a drink of water from one of the bottles you had on the table, swished it around your mouth a bit, then sat down on the couch so you could lay yourself along it to sleep on for the night.

You made yourself comfy on your side, bunching one of the couch pillows under your head and arms. Like this, you were facing Katsuki as he stood at the same spot you’d left him. He slouched forward, tucking his clawed hands into the pockets of the black sweats you’d bought him a while ago.

“You know, all you have to do is apologize,” you reminded him. You curled your legs up closer to your chest. “Isn’t that hard.”

Katuski looked like he was chewing on his tongue for a moment, the skin between his eyebrows wrinkled a bit. You waited to see what he would do, but something shifted in his expression and he only huffed loudly. He turned on his heel and stormed away in the direction of your bedroom, his feet stomping away at the floor.

You only rolled your eyes at his attitude, nestling further into the couch.

---

Something smelled good.

You woke up to it, your eyes still closed as you inhaled deeply. It was familiar and you found yourself peeking an eye open slightly in curiosity. You hadn’t taken off the lights in the living room last night—the light switch was outside of the circle—so you had to blink a few times to allow your retinas to adjust. You sat up slowly, rolling your neck and shoulders to get rid of the stiffness that came with sleeping on a couch for nine hours. You squinted then raised your eyes to look at Katsuki, who was standing beyond the salt circle with a plate in his hands and your tiny apron wrapped around his equally tiny waist.

“Morning,” you told him sleepily, one of your hands combing through your hair in an attempt to fix it.

“Made breakfast,” was his short reply, nodding his head at the plate in his hand. He lowered it slightly so you could see it was your favorite. You raised an eyebrow.

“Did you now,” you hummed as you leaned forward to grab your phone from the table to check the time. It was almost nine in the morning. You yawned and stretched your arms up in the air. You didn’t know if it was a demon thing or a Katsuki thing, but he was ridiculously good at cooking and he knew it. You were strong, however. It would take more than a home cooked breakfast to get you to crack. “You resorting to bribery?”

He scoffed loudly. “If it’ll get you to leave the fuckin’ circle.”

You smiled at him but didn’t get up from the couch, only slouching into the cushions further. You switched your attention to your phone, back to ignoring Katsuki for the time being. You had to bite your lower lip when he growled and sat down on the floor, still holding the comically small plate in his huge hands.

You knew you would be able to last much longer than him. But you had a bit of a problem—something you could only solve if you got a bit of outside help. You navigated to the messages app on your phone and opened up the chat you had with Mina.

hey, can i ask you for a favor, you texted her. You only had to wait a few minutes before the little typing bubble on her end popped up.

sure thing bestie. what’s up? kacchan bothering u? >:((

can you and eiji distract him for an hour or smth? i hv to pee like… rly badly LOL. This wasn’t something you’d thought out very well, apparently.

LMAOOOOO YEA SURE KSDHFKSJ go piss girl!!!

my bladder and i thank you and him very much <33

You let out a breath of air and rested your head back on the cushion. While it wasn’t an immediate problem for you, you knew it would be eventually. If Mina and Eijirou could get Katsuki out of the house for a bit it could allow you to freshen up in the bathroom, maybe take a speedy shower. You scrolled idly on your phone for a bit, physically forcing yourself to not look up when you heard his phone let out a ding. And then another. And another. Damn, what was Mina doing?

You heard him grumble under his breath for a few minutes. Then, he stood up and paced to the kitchen. You pretended to read something as he came back into the living room while pulling on a black shirt with a skull on it. His wings and horns were gone, and when you peeked at his eyes they were no longer glowing that bright crimson color they always were when he was around you or his friends.

“Be back,” he mumbled, not looking up at you as you waved a hand at him as a farewell. He stomped his way over to the front door and pulled it open, then disappeared into the outside world. The temperature in the house dropped slightly with his departure. You waited a few minutes after the door closed, holding your breath and straining your ears to see if you could still hear him. Then, you exhaled and jumped up. You jogged over to the salt circle and hopped across it, making a beeline for the bathroom.

It didn’t take you long to brush your teeth and take a quick shower. You had to keep in mind that you had limited time to really do anything. You shuffled around in your bedroom, your towel wrapped around your body as you picked through your clothes. Should you go for something casual again or something… cuter? Maybe dressing up a bit would make him more likely to fold. You hummed as you pulled out a nice shirt and skirt, then shifted in your sock drawer to pull out a pair of thigh highs. Oh yeah. You usually saved those bad boys for dates—Katsuki absolutely loved how you looked in them, you knew that. Not that he would admit that to your face.

You snickered as you pulled on your outfit and sprayed some perfume he also liked. Maybe a bit of lip gloss while you were at it. A cute hairstyle. Was this going overboard? Oh well!

Once you were done, you exited the room and headed for the kitchen. Your expression softened as you saw the dishes drying on the little rack you had for them. You pulled open the fridge and took out the plate of food he had neatly saran-wrapped. The mere act of him cooking this for you had something tugging at your heart. Even if it was to lure you out of the circle, you still appreciated it.

You spent a bit eating what he’d made, keeping an eye on the time all the while. You should still have about twenty minutes before he would return—assuming Mina was going by the exact hour like you’d told her. You polished off the plate and washed it before you tucked it on the dish rack. After heading to your room to fix up your face again, you steadily made your way back over to the living room.

But just as you approached the opening that led to it, you heard the front door open—felt the temperature increase once more.

You froze, snapping your head to the entrance to see Katsuki standing there, fifteen minutes earlier than you’d expected. His crimson eyes immediately locked onto your form, his hand still gripping onto the doorknob of the open door. You blinked at him, the way he tensed his shoulders under his shirt. You could see the way his burning eyes moved from your clothed feet, lingered around the exposed parts of your thighs above your socks, hovered around your torso and shoulders, stared at your shiny lips, before they eventually landed on your eyes. A beat passed. Then another.

You lunged for the salt circle, arms extended out before you as you ducked into a roll over the line of salt. A yelp left your lips as you felt the graze of his claws on your back. He snarled something as you landed on the floor on your ass, your heart racing a hundred miles an hour at the close call you just had. You brought a hand up to your chest and let out a deep breath of air before you twisted yourself around on the ground to look at him.

“You little fuckin’ minx,” Katsuki snarled, his body tensed at the edge of the salt circle as he bared his fangs at you. There was a ripping sound, his wings erupting from his back through his shirt as his horns sprouted on his head. His eyes sparked to life again, both of his hands pressed against that invisible shield you had to protect you. His tail whipped in a frenzy behind him. “Fuckin’ cheater.”

“Welcome home, handsome,” you greeted him with a mischievous grin, heaving yourself to your feet so you could brush your clothes off and properly face him.

“Y’got Raccoon Eyes and Shitty Hair to distract me on purpose,” he hissed out as a response, his eyes narrowing at you.

You shrugged at him and turned around to plop down on your beanbag again. “I dunno, did I?” Then, as an afterthought, you added, “Breakfast was great, by the way.”

He only growled at you some more—an angry thing that made goosebumps break out on your skin. You wisely elected to ignore him, snatching your phone from the couch to peek at your notifications. There was one from Mina, sent to you about ten minutes ago:

he figured us out!!! he’s on his way rn bestie run!!

If only you’d actually taken your phone with you. Then you wouldn’t have had to parkour your way into the circle.

Small explosions erupted from Katsuki’s palms, sparks flying into the air above them. His voice was low, dangerous, when he spoke. “Get. Out.”

“Apologize,” you said in turn, giving him a pointed look. When all he did was scowl at you, you shrugged and set your phone to the side so you could grab your laptop. “Then no.”

Katsuki kept a closer eye on you after that.

In retaliation to your change in clothes, you found that he’d stripped down to his briefs to reveal this thick fucking thighs and calves. You wouldn’t have realized if he hadn’t thrown his fucking shirt at you, nailing you right in the face in a way that made you jump. Then, once he realized he could throw things at you, he did the same thing with his sweats, hitting you in the face once more as you spluttered and looked over at him.

He only gave you a pointed stare as he crossed his arms under his pecs and leaned against one of the living room walls with his wings folded behind him. He was goddamn attractive—he knew that, you knew that, he knew that you knew that... You were determined to not let that affect you, however, rolling your eyes at his actions. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen before; he couldn’t crack you like that.

You didn’t know how he wasn’t bored just standing there, watching you. At least you were able to keep yourself busy by doing work on your laptop or watching a show. But him? All he did was stare at you. It made you a bit self-conscious, but you couldn’t really do anything about it, could you?

At one point in the afternoon, he pushed himself off the wall and disappeared elsewhere in the house. You only spared him a glance, part of you wondering what he was up to this time. You got your answer when you heard a faucet turn on from the bathroom. Was he going to shower? You returned your focus to your laptop only to look up again when you heard him walk back into the living room ten minutes later. You immediately looked back at your laptop, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of your staring.

“Ran a bath with those dumb salts you like,” Katsuki grumbled, wearing nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist. Somehow that was worse than him parading around in his briefs.

“Yeah?” you responded in what you hoped was an aloof manner. Enticing you with a bath was not going to work either—even with the implication that he would join you for once. “Have fun.”

He lingered a bit, as though to see if you would cave. But when you didn’t and merely hit play again on the episode you were on, he scowled and stomped away. You had to suppress a smile as you listened to him curse to himself in the bathroom. Maybe after all of this you’ll treat him to something for all the suffering you were causing. Maybe.

You almost didn’t notice when he wandered back into the living room after his bath, one of his hands rubbing at his damp hair with a towel while the other typed away at his phone. He’d finally pulled back on some sweats, though his chest glistened with droplets of water that ran down the inclines of his chest and abdomen. You snorted a little to yourself, then paused when the doorbell suddenly rang.

You looked at the front door, then at Katsuki. “Are you expecting anyone?” When he shook his head no, you glanced at your phone to check if you had any notifications. You didn’t. You looked back at him to see he had reverted back to his more human-looking form. “Can you go check?”

He only raised an eyebrow at you, pocketing his phone. “No. You check.”

You gave him an unimpressed look. “Katsuki. Go check the door.”

“No.”

You sighed—you knew what he was doing here. Before you could open your mouth to argue with him, however, the door opened on its own. Both your heads snapped towards it to see who’d entered. It was Mina again, to your confusion, gripping that little silver key in her fingers as she paraded in with a few other people. You recognized the familiar red hair of Eijirou, along with the bright yellow of Denki and deep black of Hanta. They waved at you cheerfully as they walked over.

“What… are you guys doing here?” you asked in surprise, setting your laptop to the side so you could stand up and walk to the edge of the salt circle. They were all normal-looking, though as soon as the front door clicked shut, their appearances shifted to their more natural ones.

“A certain pink shifter let slip what you were doing with Kacchan over here,” Denki said slyly, his black tail lazily waving behind him. He took one long look at the salt circle, then over at the constipated expression on Katsuki’s face, before he broke out in rambunctious laughter. One of Katsuki’s eyes twitched, his teeth bared in a silent snarl.

“We thought you could use a bit of company!” Mina snickered, one of her fingers innocently twirling a strand of her pink hair. “Maybe some encouragement!”

“I almost didn’t believe it,” Hanta choked out through his cackles, kneeling against the ground as he banged his fist against it. He raised himself up to wipe a tear from his eye, a wide shit-eating grin on his face. “Holy shit, Kacchan you really did this to yourself, huh?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Katsuki grunted and his arms moved to cross themselves over his bare chest, the towel thrown over one of his shoulders. He glared at his friends, but they only ignored him, laughing harder at his expression.

“Man, all you gotta do is apologize!” Eijirou told him through his own sharp grin, the wolf ears on his head twitching slightly as his friends cackled around him. “It’s not that hard!”

“That’s what I keep telling him,” you huffed, a smile on your face. Katsuki only gave you the stink eye. You stuck your tongue out at him.

“We—” Denki coughed into his fist, his cheeks red from cry-laughing. “We d-didn’t just come here to laugh, you know.”

“Yeah,” Hanta added in, picking his lanky figure up from the ground to give you a fanged smile. “We came bearing gifts.”

You raised an eyebrow at them. “Gifts?”

It was then that you realized Eijirou was holding a small, paper bag. Hanta and Denki both reached into it when Eijirou held out to them. You looked at them curiously, then let out a pfft when they each pulled out a carton of salt and a small water gun, respectively. Katsuki let out a snarl when he saw the carton of salt in Hanta’s hand.

“Hell yeah!” You grinned widely as Hanta did a dramatic wave with his free hand and brandished the salt at you.

“Hell no!” Katsuki rasped, swiping a clawed hand at Hanta who let out a yelp and leaped over the line of salt on the ground to join you in your circle. “Soy Sauce Face, I swear to All Might I'll shove garlic so far down your throat you’ll be shittin’ cloves for weeks. Get back here.”

“Man, how are you gonna do that from aaaallll the way over there?” Hanta grinned as he walked closer to you to throw an arm around your shoulders. You let out a laugh when he tugged you close to his side. “Sorry Kacchan but this is my lover now.”

Katsuki let out an animalistic sound, his hands pressing against the force that prevented him from crossing the salt circle. You only gave him a smile and watched as Hanta walked over to another part of the salt circle. He popped open the little nozzle on the carton and promptly turned it upside down. The salt spilled from it like a white, crystalline waterfall to add on to what was already on the floor. This was going to be a bitch to clean up.

“You know,” Mina giggled as she watched Hanta walk around the inside of the circle’s circumference, “I don’t think that's how that works.”

“It’s not but I appreciate the attempt,” you added amusedly, stepping away to give Hanta more room to thicken the circle.

“Stop that, right the fuck now,” Katsuki hissed as he attempted to grab Hanta as he walked by. He failed, of course. You almost felt bad for him.

“Or what?” Hanta snickered. “Gonna cry?”

“Piss your pants?” Mina cackled, then let out a small scream when Katsuki directed his glare at her. She stepped behind Denki, who was twirling the water gun in his hand, a wide smirk stretching across his face.

“Maybe shit and cu— WAHADHDFJG!” Denki yelped as Katsuki lunged towards him, snarling furiously. He pointed the water gun at Katsuki and pulled on the trigger to squirt whatever was inside it at the ash-blond. You snapped your head towards them when Katsuki let out a pained hiss and backed away from Denki as he clutched at his face.

“What’s in that?!” Your eyes widened, stepping closer to the edge of the circle so you could peer at Katsuki. He growled lowly as he looked up, the skin on his cheek an irritated pink. His wings extended out, crimson eyes practically glowing as he glared at Denki, who only raised his hands up in surrender.

“What the fuck, Discount Pikachu?!” Katsuki almost roared out, his hair bristling and his hands flexing angrily. “Is that fuckin’ holy water?!”

“It’s diluted!!!” Denki screamed as Katsuki pounced at him again, somehow managing to evade the irate demon. He ran around the circle to try to avoid Katsuki chasing after him with a dangerous growl. “It won’t hurt that much!!” You frowned at his words.

“How the hell did you even get that?!” you asked, your lips pulling to the side in a grimace.

“He asked Shouto for help blessing it,” Eijirou told you and you let out an ohh. Shouto was part angel, so that made sense.

“I told him not to bring it!!” Mina called out, her and Eijirou retreating closer to the front door in case they needed to make a mad dash out of it.

“Bro didn’t listen,” Eijirou said with a shrug, “Whatever Katsuki does is deserved.”

“Rude!!” Denki yelped again when Katsuki got a bit too close to him and sprayed the demon again across the chest this time. You hadn’t noticed before, but his skin made a slight sizzling sound when the holy water came in contact with it. Katsuki hissed but continued his stomping around the circle to try to grab Denki. Yeah, you didn’t think diluted holy water was going to stop him anytime soon.

“But aren’t you an incubus, Denki?” you asked confusedly, spinning in a little circle to watch said incubus run around. “Won’t the water hurt you too?”

“I got gloves on, it's fine!!”

“Done!” Hanta suddenly announced. You turned to look at him as he tossed the salt carton to the side and brushed his palms off. He gave you a wink and a bow. “Your circle has been reinforced!”

“Thanks,” you said dryly, then spun back around once Denki let out a small shriek. You hid a small smile behind your hand as Katsuki towered over Denki with a sadistic-looking grin on his face. You prayed for the incubus when you saw Katsuki had somehow managed to snatch up the water gun. He pointed it at Denki’s face, right between his golden eyes that crossed to look at it.

“Fucker,” Katsuki snarled through gritted teeth. He then leaned down closer to Denki’s face. “Run.”

“Aaaand that’s our cue to leave!” Hanta said cheerfully as Denki yelped and ducked away from Katsuki spraying the water gun at him. The incubus cursed and made a mad dash for the front door.

“Abort!! Abort!!” he yelled, waving his hands to get Mina to open the door for him. “Crazy demon on the loose!!”

“Get the fuck back here!!!”

“Bye!!” Mina called out to you as she opened the door to let Denki through, followed by a raging Katsuki who’d shifted to his normal form the moment before he left the house. “Keep us updated on this whole situation!”

“Stay strong!” Eijirou encouraged you, flexing one of his arms to emphasize his point. The wolf ears on his head disappeared, his teeth changing to look less sharp and more normal. “Don’t let him bully you into conceding!!”

“Good luck, soldier!” Hanta added, giving you a wave as he slouched his way to the front door as well, the fangs in his mouth shortening. You chuckled and gave them a farewell, watching as they disappeared onto the streets and headed in the direction of Denki’s faint screaming.

For a moment, a very quiet moment, you were alone. A faint smile lingered on your face as you looked around, sighing at the thick circle of salt around you and the discarded carton at the side. You walked over to pick it up and set it on your little coffee table, then wondered if you’d have enough time to use the bathroom. You might as well. So you jogged over to the bathroom to freshen up at lightning speed. If you inhaled too deeply, you could smell the aftermath of Katsuki’s bath—the caramel scent that hovered in the air. You shook your head and washed your hands, then headed back to the living room to plop down on your beanbag and wait for Katsuki’s eventual return once he got tired of beating up his friend.

Lo and behold, not even ten minutes later he came stalking back through the front door, grumbling under his breath about this and that. You looked over at him, expression softening, once he stormed his way into the living room and crossed his arms.

And the way he pouted at you, lines of irritated pink spanning across his torso and face from the holy water, nearly made you cave at that exact instance.

“I hope you didn’t mess Denki up too much,” you commented lightly, sinking down further into your beanbag.

Katsuki let out a low growl and pulled the water gun from his pocket to toss onto the floor. He stared pointedly at you, a deep huff escaping his lips. “Ya gonna leave or what?” Typical of him to ignore your statements. You nearly rolled your eyes at him.

When all you did was give him an expectant look and a raised eyebrow, he snarled, his fists clenching. The hair on his head bristled and his tail snapped to the side. He was starting to get even more irritated, you could tell. “I swear once ya get outta that damn circle, babe, ’m gonna fuck you up.”

“Oh?” You leaned towards him, tilting your head. You had to bite back a smile. “Is that a threat?”

A scowl spread across his face and you would rather die than admit that your heart rate spiked at his following words. “‘S a goddamn promise.”

---

It was getting harder and harder to ignore Katsuki as the time ticked by.

You’d been doing so well earlier, content with ignoring him and watching your show. But he seemed to have caught on to your shift in mood. You didn’t know how. You just couldn’t stop thinking of what he threatened to do to you—what he promised—and now you were slightly out of it, thanks to him. He knew, he fucking knew, that the way you kept zoning out was because of him. And he used that to his goddamn advantage for the next few hours. You had to plug in your earbuds to try to ignore him.

“Sweetheart,” he called to you in that dangerously low voice. The one that made something stir in the pit of your stomach. Your jaw tensed. He only used that particular nickname when he was up to no good. “Oi. Look at me.” You refused to. “Look at me, right now.” Nope, not going to happen, no matter how hot he sounded.

Something shot you in the face.

You spluttered, wiping a hand across your face at the water that had nailed you right in the forehead. Your eyes darted over to Katsuki, a grumpy frown sliding onto your face when you saw him holding that stupid water gun he’d stolen from Denki. He smirked at you as he leaned against one of the living room walls, sitting down on the ground in a way where one of his legs was bent near his chest and the other was splayed on the floor. He still had those pink lines across his face and chest. You wondered when they would fade away, only to jump when he shot you again with the water gun.

“Katsuki!” you seethed, using your fingers to wipe the water from your cheek. “Stop that! You’ll get my laptop wet!!”

He only smirked wider, crueler, and sprayed you again. You grumbled and rubbed your eyes. Diluted holy water kind of stung. “Look at you,” he snickered, “gettin’ all wet ‘cause of me, hah?”

“Katsuki!” you shouted, appalled at his choice of words. Something twisted in your stomach, heat spreading across your cheeks. “That’s not gonna make me leave!”

“Yeah?” He tilted his head and moved the gun so he could shoot water at your thighs. You glared at him, using a hand to wipe the droplets away. “Ya gotta eventually, babe. And once you do,” his teeth bared at you, sharp, “‘M gonna drag that pretty ass to the bedroom and rip that little skirt—”

“Katsuki!!”

“—right off those pretty legs and stick my fing—”

“No!!” You exclaimed, your face burning up as you snatched an empty water bottle from the table and chucked it at him. He lifted a lazy hand and batted it away, his smirk widening at your scandalized expression. “Bakugou Katsuki if you say another word—”

“You’ll what?” he drawled, leaning his head back against the wall. Crimson eyes pierced through you, reading you like you were an open book. “‘Cause I guarantee I’ll do worse.”

You clamped your mouth shut and fumed at him. You hated the way he could make you flustered with just his words. You let out a hmph and turned away from him, raising the volume up on your laptop so you didn’t have to listen to him anymore.

And it worked, for about an hour or so. You couldn’t hear him, couldn’t really entirely see him as he sat outside the circle. He sprayed you a few more times with the water gun, but you just ignored him some more and he eventually stopped. You were able to calm down and reel in your emotions, getting ensnared in the plot of the episode you were watching. You were aware of Katsuki pacing around outside the circle, and when you finally lowered the volume down once more, you could hear him cursing and growling. He was frustrated, terribly so, but you only sat there and waited.

Then the doorbell rang. Again.

You looked up with raised eyebrows, watching as Katsuki grumbled and slouched his way over to the front door. He wasn’t shifting to his human form, so you assumed it was someone he had called over himself. Sure enough, once he opened the door, you were greeted by the nervous figure of Izuku, to your surprise.

“Deku,” Katsuki grunted, stepping to the side to let said man in. “‘Bout fuckin’ time.” Izuku slid into the house and stammered out a greeting to the demon, before he walked over to the living room to greet you.

“Hey! What’re you doing here?” you asked him confusedly, setting your laptop on the table so you could stand up warily. Your eyes glanced from Izuku’s apologetic expression to Katsuki’s grumpy one. Something in your stomach sank slightly. This couldn’t be good for you.

“Well! Kacchan told me about, uh, what you were doing,” he scratched his freckled cheek as he glanced at the ash-blond, “and um, well, he kinda… kinda threatened? Me? To get rid of the circle. So! I uh, had to come over.” Your eyes widened and you glared at Katsuki for a moment—the bastard had the gall to smirk slightly at you—before you looked at Izuku who was shuffling closer to the circle. Part of you wondered how desperate Katsuki had been to have resorted to asking Izuku for help, even if they were on somewhat good terms now.

“Izuku, no, please don’t,” you nearly begged him, tensing your legs when he came to a stop near the circle and knelt down. “This is between Katsuki and I, you don’t need to—”

“Ah, I’m really sorry,” Izuku only grimaced at you, his green eyes darting over to Katsuki again before he looked up at you. “I’m really, really sorry. But I ah, I owe Kacchan a favor and um, I really can’t say no to him, either way. I’m sorry.”

“Izuku,” you tried one more time, then pouted when he touched two fingers to the salt circle. You took a couple steps back, your body tensing as Izuku’s fingertips glowed a light turquoise. The color spread to the entire circumference of the circle, and before you knew it, it had disappeared. Vanished, in a flash. Fuck.

Izuku stood up and gave you another apologetic look. You tensed up, eyes locked onto Katsuki who stared back at you dangerously. Warningly. “I’ll um, just head out. Bye! And sorry, again.”

You and Katsuki just continued to stare at each other as Izuku made his way back to the front door. You bent your legs, watching as Katsuki’s wings slowly extended out to make himself larger, his hands sharpening into claws. He bent forward, a wicked smirk on his face. There was nothing separating the two of you now. You swallowed thickly. His tail flicked side to side slowly.

The front door opened, then shut. A beat passed.

You shrieked as Katsuki lunged towards you, ducking down under him as he sailed over you. He snarled something, but you couldn’t hear what exactly it was over the sound of your racing heart. You rolled out of the way as he lunged for you again, his face twisted into a furious scowl.

“Babe, c’mere!” he roared out, swiping a hand at you that you narrowly dodged by leaping to the left. The temperature in the room spiked, the hairs on your arms stood up. And you turned on your heels and made a mad dash for your bedroom, trying to escape the sharp grip of Katsuki.

But well, he was a demon. And you were not.

A hot hand latched onto your arm. You yelped as you were tugged back and around. Katsuki twirled you so that you were facing him and both his hands clamped down on your arms. You were forced to look up at his frowning face as he loomed over you, drowning you in his form, his scent, once more. You let out a huff.

“I’m still mad at you,” you said flatly as you turned your head and stuck your nose up at him. He growled, something you felt through his chest as his hands moved so that he could lower himself down further and wrap his arms around your waist, pressing you against him. He nudged at the side of your head with his own. You continued to ignore him, stubbornly staring out at the side instead of at him.

“Hey,” he nudged you again, “hey, look at me.”

“No,” you replied sternly, turning your head further when he started to nose at your cheek. You were limp in his hold, not reciprocating his affections as he bopped your head with his own and dragged his nose down the side of your face, your neck. You had to suppress a shiver at the feel of his hot breath along your exposed skin. “I said no Katsuki!”

He grumbled and pressed a light kiss at the base of your neck. You leaned away, as much as you could, anyways. He let out a deep sigh. “Okay, ‘m sorry.” You peeked an eye open at him.

“For?”

“For movin’ your shit,” he replied shortly, pressing another kiss to the side of your neck, before he bit down lightly at your skin. You sighed quietly, and once he let go, you turned your head so you could look at him properly, one of your eyebrows raised.

“And?” you pressed on expectantly. Katsuki let out a huff.

“And makin’ fun of your height,” he added on begrudgingly, arms tightening around you. There was a moment where you just watched him, squinting your eyes slightly. He waited for your response, that signature pout soon forming on his face.

You rolled your eyes. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” You wiggled your arms out from his hold and reached up to hold his face. He leaned further into your touch, closing his eyes when your thumbs ran over the pink marks still on his cheeks. “Aww, poor baby. You missed me that much, hm?”

“‘M not a baby,” he mumbled out as you raised yourself up so you could press a gentle kiss to his right cheek. Then to his left. You could see the tips of his ears turn pink. “Don’t y’ever do that shit again, got it?”

“Mmhm.” You hummed as you squished his face together between your palms and leaned away so you could look at him. Katsuki opened his eyes to look at you, and the drunk look he had made your heart squeeze in your chest. You raised yourself back up to press a soft kiss to his chapped lips, smiling into them when he held you closer. Tighter. If only the world knew that big bad demon Katsuki fell apart with a single touch from you.

When you pulled apart, you had but a moment’s notice before you felt yourself being picked up. You let out a small yelp, feeling yourself get tossed over one of Katsuki’s thick shoulders. You gripped onto his wings for dear life, feeling them flex under your touch.

“Katsuki, what are you doing?!” you muffled out, your face pressed to his bare back. When he responded, you could practically hear the sharp grin in his voice, one of his hands raising to give you a firm slap on the ass. Your face burned, gut bottoming out in anticipation.

“Made a promise, didn’t I?”

[babyjakes]

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

event masterlist

.・。.・゜ ✫ ・.・✫・゜・。.

prompt | asking for help

pairing | t*ny stark x assistant!reader

warnings | T*NY STARK TW!!!, me not knowing how to write tony at all lmao/maybe ooc tony bc i don't know if he'd act like this, tony's a science/tech guy and i am NOT so all of the math computers inventing jargin is pure and utter bullshit like i literally pulled it out of my ass, i don't expect this piece to do well (especially with my demographics) but i don't really care bc it's for my bestieeee<333

.・。.・゜ ✫ ・.・✫・゜・。.

an | the way i just wanted to troll the shit out of this fic but i couldn't bc i want to be a good friend to @starksbabie lolol- so here it is!! my first and probably last tony piece ever. when i had the idea of dedicating a few pieces through whumptember and kinktober to close friends, nyx was the first gal i thought of. and if you know our relationship at all, you KNOW our (pretty much only) point of conflict is tony lol. so as an ode to her, a favor to the tony fans, and a brutal therapy exercise (lmao), i made myself do this. and it's probably shit, but hey. i did it.

.・。.・゜ ✫ ・.・✫・゜・。.

"Yeah, yeah- we know. We've practically got a cap on it already. Y/n's just gonna run over some finalizations here with me; we'll have the prototype over to you by the end of the day."

Chewing on the end of your pen, your eyes ran for what felt like the millionth time over the jumble of notes in front of you. Zeroing in on the lame attempt of a diagram you had managed to scribble out, you tried to hold in your groan as you heard your boss ending his call.

"Alright smarts, better give me what you got. The team over there's been riding my ass all day- they're not in the mood to be patient." When you shot the dark-haired man a look, he chuckled lightly at you. "Oh- what's with the face? Don't tell me you're grumpy. I told you to take lunch like an hour ago."

"Whatever. No time to eat," you sighed, clicking your pen shut.

"Nope, but apparently enough to make a snack of the stationary," he nodded at the chewed end of your writing utensil as he rolled his chair over from his desk to yours. "Wanna show me what you came up with?"

"Not really," you mumbled, keeping your gaze lowered as the man peeked over. Raising an eyebrow at you, Tony studied your work.

"Doesn't look half bad, they're gonna like the specs. It's a good thing you're doing the drawing and not me. But I thought we discussed this part..." Reaching a finger up, he pointed at the box you had left empty. Setting down your pen, you let out another huff of air, running a hand over your hair to smooth it back as you finally let out a long-overdue groan.

"I couldn't figure it out," you admitted, crossing your arms in defeat. "You can check my math, but I did it over. Twice. The model won't run, when I plugged it into the simulator I got an error code. We can't send it off like this."

"Oh?" Tony asked, eyes glossing over the notes and calculations you had written out in the margins of the page. "Well that's fine, it must be something in the-" His finger moved to point to a table, only earning a shake of your head as you sighed again.

"Tony," your voice was soft, almost approaching vulnerable as you finally lifted your eyes to look over at the man. "It's the whole thing. I made a mistake somewhere back in the beginning, and I can't figure it out. And now I... whenever I look it over, I just... everything..." To your surprise, as you stumbled over your words, he only appeared to listen patiently as he leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. "Tony... can you help me? I really don't fucking get it."

Sucking in a breath, you waited. Knowing your boss's usual disposition, you weren't exactly expecting a compassionate response, so you were surprised when he simply offered a nod. "Sure thing, smarts. D'you have your original drafts? That'll probably be where we need to look if you're thinking it was something way back."

You paused for a second, blinking. "What," he asked, "do I have something on my face? That cupcake Pepper brought me in was more frosting than it was red velvet."

"No, sorry," you tried to snap yourself out of it, shuffling through the mess of papers in front of you until you found your original outline, gingerly offering it over. "I just... I don't know. I was expecting some disappointment, maybe."

"Nah," he shook his head as he took your papers, "to be honest, I have no idea what the hell's going on with this thing, either. I've been following your lead, and you've done a pretty bang-up job, minus whatever this hiccup is. No disappointment here, I'm sure between the two of us, we'll find the error."

Trying not to get too hung up on your surprise, all you could do was nod as Tony began to read through your notes. "See? Brilliant stuff you've got here," he commented, waving the paper in his hand. "Even the cat doodles at the bottom, this stuff's the work of a pure genius."

.・。.・゜ ✫ ・.・✫・゜・。.

[agape-28]

Do you have some fics that you’ve read recently and really liked?

Hey! I read a lot of fics LMAO, but here are the ones I really enjoyed discovering and reading this month! (I hope everyone's long post is on.)

picking up the pieces by falsegoodnight (E, 37k)

“Zayn,” he murmurs, quietly but desperately.

Knowing what to do immediately, Zayn discreetly glances behind them to scan the room. “Walking over,” he says, confirming Louis’ worst fears.

“Maybe he’ll just pass by without stopping,” Louis says, glancing at the tables next to them as if hoping to find some other group of friends Harry had in high school that he could possibly want to talk to.

Eyebrow arched and lips pursed, Zayn has the nerve to look amused. “He’s looking directly at us.”

“Cause a diversion,” Louis rushes through his teeth, panic clawing up his throat. He can’t look Harry in the face again. Not yet, maybe not ever.

Zayn rolls his eyes and grabs his hand, interlocking their fingers. “It’s now or never, dear.”

-

Louis returns to his hometown for the first time in ten years for his high school reunion and is faced with memories he’s long since tried to forget.

Open Up Your Honey Pot by daffodilsforlou (E, 4k)

So attuned to the omega, Louis had been able to smell Harry’s slick while they kissed, the tangy cherry notes that filled his room impossible to miss. But even though he knew just how wet Harry could get from a few kisses, this particular outcome hadn’t exactly crossed his mind.

or louis’ helpless when it comes to his omega. and harry’s kind of in charge.

Shape Of You by Only_angel_28 (E, 11k)

“Seriously?” Surely, Harry must be joking. Louis arches a skeptical brow and snaps the waistband of Harry’s joggers playfully. “What exactly do you have down there, Styles? I know you’ve got four nipples, d’ya have a couple extra bollocks as well or summat?”

“No!” Harry shrieks, his voice bordering on shrill. “No,” He repeats a little quieter, calmer, “I just—I’m, er, kinda…big, I guess.”

Louis rolls his eyes in fond exasperation. “That’s hardly a problem, curly.”

Or Harry is insecure about a certain rather large part of his anatomy that is apparently intimidating to the point where it has actually scared off potential shags. When he ends up confessing this to his best friend and roommate, Louis takes it upon himself to prove that Harry’s size doesn't have to be a curse, and decides to help show him just how perfect he is.

even the best laid plans by falsegoodnight (E, 25k)

“Anyways,” Louis stresses, narrowing his eyes, “just let me say it and then rate how terrible of an idea it is on a scale from one to ten.”

“Alright,” Zayn agrees, sitting up expectantly. 

“I want to ask Harry Styles to take my virginity,” Louis blurts, holding his hands out for emphasis. 

The way Zayn’s eyes bulge is almost comical. “Negative infinity,” he says, voice choked. “Negative infinity times negative infinity.”

“Technically, a negative times a negative is -”

“Really negative infinity,” Zayn corrects himself, shaking his head wildly. “Louis, what the fuck?” 

-

Or, Louis wants to have sex with someone and decides Harry is the perfect alpha for the job.

Suddenly They're Right by sapphichug (E, 22k)

Helene smiled, the wrinkles by her eyes and mouth flattering her face. “That sounds lovely. And you didn’t even fool around? Isn’t that the whole point of spending the night with a friend with benefits?”

“We’re not that, we’re just…we’re just friends.”

“Who sleep together. Literally and figuratively.”

“Yes.”

“How is that not being friends with benefits?”

Louis huffed. “Keep your voice down, please. I do have a class going on, if you didn’t notice. And I don’t know, but that sounds so…immature and sleazy, and that’s not what we have.”

Helene leaned closer and aggressively whispered at him, “Because you also have romance and meaningful feelings for each other and everything a real relationship has, sans the label.”

**

Louis is a painting professor with an art block the size of Texas and a global superstar for a non-boyfriend, who he wants to keep.

a fic about feeling stuck and learning to free oneself

All i know is we said 'hello' (and your eyes looked like coming home) by onlytherogue28 (GA, 15k)

In the grand scheme of things, realising you’re in love with your best friend shouldn’t make you feel like your life is about to fall apart. It’s just— a thing. It’s a thing that happens to people. These people just accept the fact that their best friend will not reciprocate these feelings and move on with their life until they can look back one day and laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

Harry doesn’t find anything laughable yet. He needs to meet these people, who this ‘falling-in-love-with-my-unattainable-perfect-best-friend’ thing has happened to. Preferably, soon. Maybe he should put up an ad on Craigslist; ‘Urgent Help: How to unlove your best friend?’

Louis has been the centre of Harry's universe for as long as he can remember and yet it takes 3461 miles and two years away from him for Harry to figure out he's in love with him.

in the pub that we met he's got his arms around you by fearsparks (T, 13k)

Harry all but jumped into Louis’ arms when he came close enough to touch him, Louis’ arms opening automatically. Their arms wrapped around each other tightly, tugging each other as close as possible. He had missed his best friend so much.

“Hey,” Harry said with a breathless laugh when their grip on each other had loosened enough for him to draw a deep breath.

“Hazzy,” mumbled Louis in return, burrowing his face into Harry’s neck. “I’m so happy to see you. I’ve missed you so much, Haz.”

“I missed you, too, Lou,” replied Harry, “I missed you, too.”

(Harry's best friend Louis comes to visit him where he attends uni, meets Harry's friends, who point out that they don't know what platonic means.)

your kisses burn (only love can hurt like this) by babygrxxt (NR, 12k)

it’s winter-time again, and all harry can focus on is trying to get over the insane crush he has on his best friend.

or

they've been best friends almost longer than they have known how to walk, and harry's been in love for twenty seven years.

tennis court by outropeace (E, 18k)

Nearly every single Monday, a new wave of gossip about Styles appeared in Louis’ office, like a dysfunctional and very thirsty clockwork. Because nearly every single Monday, a new omega freshly out of their heat had to tell how fantastic their weekend with the alpha was.

And all thanks to Louis' office mating cycle system, which consisted of a database of employees who needed partners for their heat/ruts. It was a practical and very useful system; employees checked the people in it and had to pick three of them from the list of candidates to spend their cycles with—just in case one of the three was unavailable for those days, they still had at least two options secured. His first year working there, Louis made the huge mistake of putting Styles as one of his options. Styles, of course, never made himself available for him, not even once.

Or Louis and Harry are co-workers and Louis is sure Harry hates him because he always refuses to help him with his heats.

If Wishes Were Dishes by LadyLondonderry (T, 2k)

So. Harry is doing dishes.

Harry is doing Louis’ dishes.

That’s when Louis starts getting paranoid.

Why is Harry doing his dishes?

He must be mad at Louis. He must be absolutely livid at the way Louis is living his life as a slob.

Something Deep Inside by lightswoodmagic (M, 17k)

He knew what he needed, and it was a harsh realisation to think that maybe he’d never have it again, that maybe he was about to ruin everything by admitting, live to thousands of people, that they’d been right all along.

Well, almost.

Their fans had gotten a substantial amount correct; the relationships that were faked, the two of them being kept apart by their management for being too close, too affectionate, the social media control and all the stories planted in the papers in their attempts to ruin them. Most of all though, there had been people who had always known that the overwhelming feeling of love, passion, commitment, and home was there all along.

They just hadn’t known it was one sided.

Or, the five times Louis had to hold back his feelings, and the one time he didn't.

Inspired by Fireproof

I've Been Wandering Round (But I Still Come Back to You) by orphan_account (T, 27k)

"Harry had always been beautiful, but lately he’d blossomed into this tall, sexy, man and Louis was having trouble dealing with it. And so, it seemed, were his hormones."

OR

The one where Louis and Harry are best friends and co-stars on a popular television series and Louis inconveniently discovers he's in love with him in the middle of a press tour.

Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy by lovelarry10 (E, 10k)

Harry whimpered as Louis pushed himself up onto his tiptoes, grazing his ear lobe with his lips. His breath tickled Harry’s ears, and Harry swallowed, already anticipating what Louis was about to say.

“I’d like to ride you, cowboy…”

**

Harry's a barman at Flaming Saddles, a country and western themed gay bar.

Louis’ a customer who’d like to see if the tall barman is as good on the ropes as everyone says he is...

[milkteaflorist]

can i please request some yang nsfw hcs?

Author's note: you're in for a wild ride my dear, put your seatbelt oooon (￣y▽￣)╭ Ohohoho.....

Yang general NSFW hcs

Characters: Yang, gn!reader

Genre: smut🌹

Total words count: 997 (yes I was inspired lmao)

Warnings: mentions of blood, physical pain, Yang is a warning himself, nsfw ahead! + potential grammar mistakes since I wrote this before going to sleep

Yang

It's no surprise, but Yang is DEFINITELY a top, and not only a top, but also a dom. He's fine being just the top if you aren't into kinky stuff though. With this being said, he won't EVER let you top him, even less dominate him. Try it and you're going to regret it for the rest of your life. This man is really into punishments, and he certainly isn't afraid to let the whole Laoshu hear your screams and moans~

His thrusts are always fast and rough. Sometimes he just wants to hear you beg for more, while he keeps pounding into you and biting your neck 'till it bleeds; your moans really get him going. That doesn't mean he is inconsiderate, if you feel pain he's going to go much slower than usual. He might act mean and all, but he won't cross your boundaries and he secretly pays a lot of attention to them.

Oh boy, the list of his kinks is too long- let's start with the main ones! Dacryphilia, your tears are a sign that you're enjoying his attentions very much, plus the face you make when you cry is both cute and pathetic, which arouses him on a different level. Power play, I don't think there's a need to explain: Yang loves seeing you wrapped around his fingers, following his orders and being good for him. This also includes pet play and light sadism. 100% would buy you a collar if you're okay with that, making you sit at his feet while he plays with the short leash. He also likes inflicting pain, I'm talking about choking and knife play. Also, the type to slap your private parts, I'm not sorry and of course extreme marking! Bites and bruises are his favourites. But nothing, and I mean nothing, gets him going like humiliating and degrading you, your embarrassed face is so arousing he can't help it. Those two also include a spit kink. And as I wrote before, your moans and expressions really turn him on. Unforgettable is also his creampie kink, but he's worried you may end up pregnant if you have a uterus so he has mixed feelings about it

Be ready to not walk for several days after your intercourse. Yang's stamina is really... admirable. He prefers doing one or two looooong rounds, but you mostly do just one round, two if you're feeling needier, but most of the time one round is enough to satisfy both of you though.

Will make you cum at least twice. No matter what.

Not really patient during foreplay, he just wants to feel you around him as soon as possible. But he tries his best ok

Wasn't used to preliminaries, but he is a fast learner and he knows you need to adjust to his pace. So now that he's with you, he's willing to wait how much time you desire before switching to the main act

If you want a safe word, you're free to have one of course

Also loves when you give him oral ;)

What turns him on? It's kinda complicated. You turn him on. It depends on his mood whether he may find something arousing or not. For example, you reading a book might turn him on because of the way you look, the way your eyes sparkle with interest; you teasing him, both in public and in private, even if the thrill of being in public makes him hornier; but also just you breathing lmao- for real it totally depends on his mood and how he's feeling that day. Some days he might reject your teasing, other days he might keep you busy in his room for the whole day. There isn't a thing that will ALWAYS turn him on in every case, so just be yourself!

But if you want to get him in the mood, try wearing some revealing clothes *wink wink*

What turns him off? Same as what turns him on. It depends on his mood. But unlike his turns-on, the one thing that really pisses him off is you not reading the room. Insisting and being pushy when he already told you no, and flirting with other people. Those things really irritate him, so please respect his boundaries too! If you don't, you're going to get the opposite of what you wanted; and we all know how Yang acts when he's angry

His libido also depends on his mood!

Vanilla doesn't exist in his vocabulary

Now. Ass, boobs or thighs? The only correct answer is legs. He finds them sexy and attractive, no matter the clothes or if they're chubby or skinny, he finds them very appealing. This is why one of his favourite position is your legs on his shoulders while he pounds into you faster and faster. That doesn't mean he doesn't appreciate other parts of your body, but your legs to him are just *chef kiss*

His favourite positions are: spooning, the chairman, from behind, 69, you laying on your stomach (yes he loves touching your back)

His favourite place to do the nasty is his room (bed and desk). He is too possessive to even risk letting someone see your pretty face. Also, his bathroom (in the bathtub) when he feels tired. He isn't into public sex at all, so the bedroom and the bathroom are the only options. At least until you, two will buy a home for yourself

Your sex life with Yang is indeed a wild ride, you two never get bored and thanks to his mood things always get spicer ;) but remember that even if he's quite kinky and rough, he will respect your boundaries and limits. Your relationship is almost entirely built on trust, so please talk to him when you feel uncomfortable! Yang isn't good at communicating and expressing his feelings, so you being direct may really help :)

[alygatorwrites]

can I request a lil something? during the end of the manga or after the timeskip if you haven't read it yet, reiner still has feelings for historia and reader has one-sided feelings for him.

pieck gives reiner a small hint, saying he's wasting time while there's someone close to him that cares for him and points to you. he doesn't understand at first and maybe is conflicted about his feelings for you because of historia. reader is cool about it as she doesn't expect him to reciprocate her feelings.

a rollercoaster of emotions later, maybe there is a happy ending tho? i am curious to see what you can come up with 😭😭 i have dreaming of this scenario before bed and i can't help but get jealous of his crush on historia abjdsndks maybe you can help reiner reciprocate reader-chan's feelings or not

thank u so much aly 💖🥺

reciprocation

pairing: reiner braun x reader

a/n: OMG yesss! honestly, i was kinda annoyed at how reiner still had a crush on historia. i know that isayama wanted to show how everything went back to normal, but i was hoping that reiner would have a bigger role in the allied nations instead of being "dumbed down" to having an obsession with her. MAYBE THATS JUST THE JEALOUSY SPEAKING LMAO 😭 i was hoping this would be longer, although school has been killing me so im really sorry!! i hope its okay 💗💕 thank you honey!

↳ to be added to my taglist, please fill out this ♡form♡

as reiner is handed historia’s letter, you fold your hands on the table and watch him without a word. when he reads the lines and smells the parchment - jean saying something snarky afterward - you say nothing.

you want reiner to be happy: you want to see him at ease like this more, face soft as the leaf of the page flits from his pinched fingers.

and so you let the man speak about historia like she’s a damn goddess, gushing over her handwriting, and keep your goddamn mouth shut. ignore your jealousy. your feelings.

the truth is, you’re in love with reiner.

you can’t even remember how it happened, but you can remember the first time you looked into those hazel eyes, and how you knew that they were going to stick with you for eternity.

you’ve come to accept his crush on the queen, though. reciprocation was never an option in your mind.

when jean begins to chew reiner out for lusting after a married woman, and reiner says something about jean being a horse, pieck’s gaze lands on you. “you’re rather quiet,” she says softly, resting her head on her palm.

you shrug, turning away from her. “i’m just tired.”

pieck catches your chin between her lithe fingers, and turns you to face her with a tiny smile. the young woman is very perceptive, and you’ve known her long enough. 

that’s when you notice the twinkle in her eye. she’s planning something.

pieck releases your jaw then, sitting up in her chair. “you’re wasting your time, reiner,” she says suddenly. “there’s already someone you know who cares for you.”

you pretend to not hear pieck - and definitely pretend you don’t see her faintly point at you through your peripheral. the movement of her fingers is barely there, but you catch it.

damn you, pieck.

the way you’re now pinned underneath armin, jean, connie, and reiner’s stares makes your stomach tie itself into knots with bubbling reluctance. shit, this is awkward. you want to run away.

still, you peer over to study reiner’s reaction. he looks confused at first, the contours of his face unreadable. you swear you see connie facepalm at the man’s cluelessness.

then reiner’s expression slowly changes: his eyes widen in awe, lips parting slightly, and brows knitting together. he seems genuinely surprised - and conflicted.

conflicted? why?

there’s no time to explain yourself though, because the door creaks open and annie steps in. her words fall on your deaf ears, and when everyone stands up to leave, you’re the first one out of the room. work beckons you as always.

two days pass.

you’ve been busy filling out tons of paperwork pertaining to the allied nations, so when you’re finally given a day off, you take it with open arms. 

freedom at last.

you lean against a bench outside of headquarters, enjoying the salty breeze that flutters along your skin. it’s dusk, the sky covered in a gradient of neon colors as the sun dips below the horizon.

you haven’t seen reiner since that day in the conference room. you wonder how he’s doing, what he’s thinking, how he’s holding up -

“hey.”

speak of the devil. you glance over your shoulder toward the voice, low and familiar.

reiner approaches you, clad in his uniform: the suit hugs his large frame perfectly, showing every flex of his muscles, and his blonde hair is neatly parted. the black tie looped around his neck just pulls it all together. it has you weak at the knees every. single. time.

“hey,” you answer, giving reiner a smile as he stops beside you.

and that’s when your heart lurches at the sight of him.

the sunset highlights reiner’s profile in gold, a heavenly shine that settles upon his blonde lashes and the flawless slope of his nose. the flecks in his irises sparkle – a beautiful mixture of soft browns and muted greens. the only thing you can do right now is admire the man. 

his words are what breaks you out of your daydream.

“work has been crazy lately, huh?” reiner says, focused on the candy-floss clouds and their fluffy shapes.

“well - yeah, pretty much. i don’t want to look at a pen or a piece of paper ever again.”

“that bad?”

“you have no idea. i almost regret marley and paradis reconciling.”

reiner chuckles gently at the joke, but it’s strained. his forehead remains creased, and he’s not really smiling. the emotion there is more … doubtful. it’s like he’s having some sort of inner conflict.

hopefully reiner’s not acting cautious because of the other day. you know he doesn’t return your feelings, and that’s totally okay. you’re happy enough being with him like this. “i’m not mad or anything, y’know.”

reiner stiffens at that. there’s a white flash of teeth when he chews on his lower lip. “i know.”

“good,” you hum, breathing out a sigh of relief. your core twists with envy when you force a grin. bite it back. tease him like always. “so about historia … ”

reiner’s eyes go wide almost comically, and you hear the breath in his lungs leave his firm chest in one exhale. there’s a light blush staining his cheeks now. it’s funny; he’s so goddamn big, yet he’s such a teddy bear.

“y-yeah,” reiner mutters. you observe the way his brows pinch together as he awkwardly shifts in place. it takes a while before the man composes himself again, which is strange.

is he scared or something? what the hell?

“pieck,” reiner hesitates for a moment. the golden strands of his hair ruffle in the wind and he appears ... well, lost. “was she being serious?”

the question is a shocker - jeez, he could have at least let you prepare yourself. a firm ‘no’ almost slips out, but you’ve never been much of a liar. not to reiner, anyway. crossing your arms against your chest, you inhale sharply and nod. avoid staring at him face-to-face. “yep.”

“ … why me?”

reiner says the words with a mixture of spite and anguish, a casual and rumbling voice. you immediately turn your head, frowning. “what?”

“i’ve done so many horrible things.” reiner exhales heavily and stares down at his hands; perhaps he’s imagining all the blood they’ve been stained with. “i betrayed everyone. i killed innocent people - all because i was selfish.”

it’s no surprise that reiner is broken after everything he’s been through, but it pains you to know that he continues to suffer in silence. whatever war is raging inside his ribcage tears him apart piece by piece, and you wish you could carry the burden. 

there’s probably nothing you can say to convince reiner that he was just a kid, a victim of circumstance. there’s nothing that can persuade him to see himself the way you do.

so you decide to tell reiner why you love him. 

you explain the amount of admiration you hold for him. tell him that you love the way he just wants to be someone his comrades can lean on, like a big brother. tell him that you think he’s the most gorgeous person you’ve ever seen and how you think he deserves the world.

the way you spill your guts out snaps every nerve in your body. you don’t say everything you want to – but you tell him enough. a dark flush spreading across your face, you find the courage to look at him.

the world seems to stop on its axis when you find reiner staring right on back. the intensity of his eyes is stunning; they’re lit up with astonishment and affection.

god, the affection. you see it clear as day. maybe one of the greatest regrets in his life is how he forced himself to see you only as a friend.

that’s when he reaches out to you.

reiner retracts his hand twice, unsure, before slowly brushing his fingertips against yours. the touch is so feather-light that you almost can’t feel it. it’s a test - he’s waiting to see if you pull away. you can’t even move if you wanted to, because his fond gaze keeps you rooted to the spot before him. 

when you don’t recoil, reiner finally moves to gently hold your hand; his palm is so much bigger than yours, and your fingers slot together perfectly, like a jigsaw puzzle’s final piece. 

heart thrumming like a hummingbird has been stuffed into your chest, you’re almost at a loss for words and come to a realization.

this utterly amazing man likes you. always has. 

but reiner shoved away the feelings for one simple reason; you deserved ‘better.’ focusing on the old crush he had on historia was a distraction - an attempt to convince himself to stop thinking about you.

because looking at you everyday and not being able to act upon his feelings was too painful.

“is this okay?” reiner asks lowly. there’s a slight pinkness to his cheeks, the color of a selfless love.

by some miracle, you manage to nod dumbly. “yeah, of course. it’s fine.” it’s amazing is what you actually want to say.  

reiner squeezes your hand at the reassurance, a sigh escaping from his throat. “i really—”

you wait for him to finish, but he doesn’t. reiner just searches your profile for signs of discomfort, and then untwines your hands to bravely swipe a thumb along the length of your cheekbone. 

there’s no time to speak because he’s already leaning down.  

the sensation of reiner’s lips pressing against yours lights your skin ablaze; you can feel the curling flames of passion sear your soul, made even more intense by the warmth of the sunlight on your back.

it’s natural, it’s tender, it’s warm.

reiner’s breath rattles into your mouth when you rest both palms against his solid chest and deepen the kiss. the musky smell of his aftershave and cologne envelops you completely, and fuck, it’s so good. your arms wrap around him, fingers passing over the sharp slopes of his shoulder blades.

as much as you wish the kiss could go on endlessly, there are people gathering outside. avoiding any unwanted attention from nosy strangers is very much appreciated.

you pull away to nuzzle your nose into reiner, and he rests his chin on your shoulder, protective arms moving to loop around your waist. it’s such an intimate caress that it sparks your brain into overdrive.

as the rushing sound of the breeze comes back to your ears through the quiet, you tuck the kiss away to be remembered forever. that’s all there is to it. being close to reiner like this - swaying together like wildflowers in the wind - is more important than anything else.

“i like you,” reiner murmurs.

the suddenness of it makes you laugh, and you can feel the upward quirk of reiner’s lips - a whisper of a peaceful smile and a sweet, sweet promise.

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

breaking it down to find a meaning

neighbours au?

this came out of literally no where. I was getting ready for bed and I had "I wanna love somebody" by We Three stuck in my head and then I opened tumbles and this just poured out of me? Yea I literally wrote this in the tumblr post option. no google doc we die like lovers.

I point this out only to say this is defs not edited lmao. I didn't even expect it to be this long it was supposed to a tiny drabble?

please enjoy!

[all images have alt text]

There are exactly three things wrong with Percy's current living situation.

1. He has far too little lounge space for his terribly long body. His shins have hit the coffee table six times today in his attempt to maneuver from sitting on the couch to standing.

2. The spare bedroom is not a good enough sound quality for his guitar or his drum practice. The bathroom is much better. He cannot practice in his bathroom forever, or ever.

3. His neighbour is undeniably, completely distractingly hot.

He hasn't allowed himself to rate the problems in order of most troublesome because he's a little ashamed about which one might take first place.

Since moving in one week ago Percy has had many opportunities to arrange and rearrange every aspect of the tiny two bedroom— or one bedroom and a makeshift studio— apartment until he could walk around it blind. He knows not to step on the third floorboard from the left wall on the way to his bedroom because it creaks unpleasantly and he thinks his downstairs neighbours are going to shove a hot poker through the roof just to brandish the annoying foot that keeps making the noise. He knows that the oven setting has to be juggled just right for it to go on. He knows the curtain railings in the living room are far too thin and brittle— he will have to replace them before the month is out. He knows you have to turn the hot tap in the shower three times and the cold tap four to get the exact perfect temperature. What he doesn't know, however, is his neighbour's name, or the colour of their eyes, or anything about them. All he knows is that they're hot.

But today, bruised shin and all, Percy is determined to introduce himself. If for nothing else but to gauge just how upset they might be when he starts up what his mother used to lovingly call "Melodic Madness".

So far it takes the reign as number one reason he's had to leave his previous living spaces. Mr Chiron from Strawberry Valley, who told the landlord the noise was so loud it made his steel kneecaps rust. Creative, but Percy isn't sure it's feasible. Then there was Minerva from Olive Grove who took one look at him and told the landlord he was a drug dealer, or worse, a drug user. He had raised a brow, couldn't stop his lip from tugging up, liking the way the ring that hugged his bottom lip stretched deliciously. He almost killed her on the spot. He would have laid lillies at her funeral and she would have risen again to throw them away. The last place, a Mr Hedge. Percy was glad to leave him behind. There were baseball bags swinging and yelling almost as loud as he played every time they crossed paths. For his own safety Percy didn't even wait for the man to call the landlord before he wad tucking his drumsticks in his pocket and high tailing it to, here.

Here being Sunset Gardens. Here being in this small apartment that fit him almost perfectly. Here being one knock away from meeting his new neighbour.

Percy wonders, as he looks at the soft cream wood of the door, if he should have worn a turtle neck to hide the snake tattoo wrapping around his throat. Or maybe a button down and a tie, to hide the swirls of ink on his arms. The black t-shirt he has on, a normal longer length to his usual cropped look, is clean and soft from use. He decides it'll have to be good enough because he can't wear button downs all the time. How ever will he afford all the ties that come with the obligation?

Percy knocks on the door.

There's silence behind it. The silence of sleepy world, too cozy-can't move. The silence that doesn't wish to be disturbed.

The door opens.

His neighbour's eyes are blue. Bright blue. Startling blue. Blue enough to make his lungs feel a lack of oxygen. He's reaching for the sky and it's getting harder to breather the higher he gets.

"Hello." Says his neighbour.

Percy is flying closer to the sun than Icarus ever will, ever could.

"Can I help you?"

He needs to stop staring. He needs to say something that doesn't make him look like a gaping angel fish. All starry eyes halos and floundering for relief from the air. Do fish know how beautiful the sky is? He imagines if they did they'd all kill themselves trying to get to it. He's doing it right now.

"Hi," He grins. Teeth white, straight, flossed because his mother forced him to learn the habit. "I'm Percy, your new neighbour."

"Jason," The voice is warm, deep. He knows if he lay his head on that spectacular chest he'll feel every vibration when this blue eyed spectacle talks. It'll be like getting into a really nice car and feeling the seats rumble beneath you.

"How are you finding the apartment?"

They're still standing on his door front. Jason won't relent his sanctuary. Percy won't toe over the line, curiouser and curiouser as he is.

"Good. Living room is causing some bodily harm," He waves to his shin, "But otherwise very good. Cozy."

"We share a wall. I don't know if it's your bedroom and mine or..." His neighbour trails off.

"It's my spare bedroom against you." They both glance to his door, light from his lounge flooding the passage in a perfect parallelogram.

"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about." He's looking into the sky again. Watches as hair falls over that golden forehead. His hands— tattooed "amare" on his left fingers and "amari" on his right— twitch to push it back, to grasp the white strands, to know what light feels like. He tucks them into the pockets of his sweatpants. He tells them behave. The twitch in their hiding place. He doesn't let them seek.

"What about it?" Jason is frowning, in that worried way that says he's used to bad news and he's tired of it too.

"I uh," Percy's eyes flicker around the world. "I play guitar and drums. I'm using that room as my music room."

"Oh." The relief in Jason is a pointed arrow straight at his heart. Even cupid could never shoot something so potent. "That's okay. I'll use your music as inspiration when I paint."

Percy is Icarus three seconds after he believes he can fly. Percy is Patroclus when he feeds Achilles. Percy is Hercules after completing his first trial. Percy is a hero and a warrior and the luckiest person alive. Percy is alive.

"I hope you're good." Jason shrugs as if he hadn't tattooed a permanent place into the underside of Percy's ribcage.

"I hope so too." He manages to say back.

"I'll show you what I can create from you the first time and you can judge." Those blue eyes are so wide with innocence. Not the innocence of life but of words. His neighbour has no idea what he's doing to him. Has no idea that he is about to go home and make song lyrics out of all these declarations.

"I look forward to it." He smiles wide. It's ocean deep with happiness.

There are exactly three things perfect about Percy's current living situation:

1. The kitchen has a gas stove enough counter space for him to make bread and his mother's gumbo

2. His bedroom is big enough for him to fit a king sized bed easily. He is a sprawler when he sleeps and he cannot be happier to sprawl across never ending expanse.

3. His hot neighbour is perfect.

[heyheyheyhaikyu]

✨proposing to Osamu with a ring pop✨

I’m sorry lmao. I don’t know how to write. Hope you still kinda like it though @ethanharli :’)

Word count: 1.4k

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

Looking up at the sky on my walk to school, clouds were fluffy like cotton candy, brisk breeze tickled my cheeks. Mornings as perfect as these always turned out the best or the worst days.

Walking into the main entrance of Inaruzaki High, crowds of students littered the halls. People whispered things about their fellow students to each other while others did who knows what else.

School had never been one of my favorite places. There was one thing that made it all worth it though...

A familiar face turned a corner and walked straight over to me. I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face as I held my arms out and wrapped them around his frame. “Hi Samu.”

“Hi y/n,” Osamu said with a soft smile. That was our normal greeting every morning. You see, Osamu and I have been best friends since we were little. We've always been oddly close, and in middle school we started dating. We’ve been together ever since and I couldn’t even begin to imagine being with anyone else. I'm going to marry that man someday.

****

The day went on as usual, boring classes and unneeded drama. After school though we had clubs, my personal favorite part of the day. I got to spend time with ‘Samu and have fun doing something I love and if that’s not a win-win situation, I don’t know what is.

I pulled Atsumu aside after practice to discuss the lingering thought plaguing my mind. He and I have always had an on and off friendship, but when push comes to shove, I know I'll always be able to count on him.

We walked outside and sat on a bench under a big tree. “So, you're probably wondering why I dragged you here, huh?”

“Yeah, I am, so could ya please just spit it out so I can be on my way?” he crossed his arms over his chest with a sigh. He obviously had better places to be.

“So, Samu and I have been together for like forever as you know,” I said as I sat up straight and looked at him. “I've been thinking about proposing...”

A dramatic head turn and gasp was not what I expected his response to have been. “Like marriage proposal?!”

I slowly nodded my head. “yep.”

He took a minute and compose himself. “Well, I can tell you that I know how happy you make him, y/n. If you really do think you love him enough to spend the rest of your life by his side then I'll help you in any way that I can.”

When I looked at him, I saw a smile that he didn’t show often. His genuine smile had always been able to light up a room, but as we got older that smile seemed to vanish and turn into a fake one full of insecurity and that fake ego of his.

“Well, knowing that makes me feel a lot better. Thank you.” I gave him a quick hug before getting up and running away to find Osamu.

****

“Man, a good ring is going to be really expensive... maybe I could try picking up another job, but I wanted to do this soon.” I sighed and rolled over, looking at the ceiling above me. “I could just get a cheap ring for the time being and pick up another job when we graduate and have more free time.”

I fidgeted with my hands as I mindlessly looked out the window, night sky shimmering with starlight. I glanced over at my desk and an idea came to mind. A wrapped piece of candy sat still in a jar on my desk. I had gotten It at a festival I went to with Samu last week. “That could work,” I said as I rolled off my bed and headed over to grab it.

I sat back down on my bed with the candy in my hand. “A ring pop would be perfect. I won't have anything for him to wear for the time being, but a least I can get the point across, right?” I chuckled to myself as I grabbed my phone and texted Tsumu my idea.

****

After a week or so of preparation, the plan was in motion. After practice I'll take Samu out to our favorite ramen shop. While we’re there, Tsumu and his team will be at the park we first met at, setting up some lights and getting ready for us. I'm sure it'll all turn out perfectly.

The day was normal and uneventful. I'm sure Samu could tell I was nervous about something, but he decided not to ask me about it, thankfully. The day seemed to last an eternity while I patiently waited for my time.

Practice was cut short, so after we cleaned up, I grabbed Samu and we headed off together. “So, you said you wanted to get dinner together, but you can't possibly expect me to ignore the fact that you don’t like going out on week nights. Plus, you’ve been acting weird all day... is something the matter?”

We walked hand in hand as we talked. “Just been excited to spend some time with you. It feels like it's been ages since we last went on a proper date, Samu.” a small smirk crept its way onto my lips and I tried to force it away.

“Okay fine, I won't ask questions, but just know, you're acting sus and I'm keeping an eye on you,” he said with a playful huff.

I chuckled and squeezed his hand lightly. “Well, at least you have a nice view to enjoy,” I said with a wink.

He laughed and shook his head. A short walk later, we arrived at the ramen shop and got our table. The conversation flowed as natural as ever. I’ve always been able to just talk with him. It didn’t matter how long we’d go without talking, conversation always seemed to come easily and smoothly. I could talk about anything with him and it would still be entertaining.

We ate our meal together and headed out hand in hand, just as we had entered. “Wanna go for a little walk?” I asked with a grin.

“Do you have a place in mind?” He looked at me like he knew something was up.

I shrugged. “I was thinking just we could walk around for a little bit without a destination in mind.” though I obviously had one I was planning on taking him.

“Sure, I suppose that doesn't sound too bad.” I nodded and we headed off in a seemingly random direction.

We talked and laughed, just enjoying being in each other's company. I leaded the way to our unknow destination. We walked up to the park on the opposite side, so he hadn't seen the set up yet. “Oh, look where we ended up, Samu,” I said as I pointed at the park.

He looked up and smiled. “Hey, isn't this where we met?” I nodded. “Did you bring me here on purpose or was it actually coincidental?” he asked with a raised brow.

I smirked and pulled him around to the other side. “Seems you know me a bit too well, babe.”

The view before us was magical. A path was lit by green lights that led up to a picture board full of our photos and memories. We walked down the path and every few feet one of our friends stood, holding a rose and a letter. Osamu picked them up as we walked down the path, getting hugs from everyone.

As we reached the end, there stood Atsumu with a remote in his hand and a smirk on his face. I looked at Osamu with a smile and kneeled down onto one knee and pulled out the ring pop. Atsumu clicked a button on the remote and a sign lit up saying ‘So, will you?’

Osamu didn’t even wait for the words to escape my mouth as he burst into laughter and nodded his head. “Yes, of course I will, ya big dummy,” he said as he pulled me up and into a tight hug.

“You didn’t even let me ask,” I said with a pout.

“Yeah, well you just proposed to me with a ring pop, so it's fine.” I slid it onto his finger and it obliviously barley went passed the first knuckle, but it was still perfect and everything I wanted it to be.

“It’s your favorite flavor and everything,” I teased with a big smile. Everyone cheered and congratulated us. I looked Samu in the eyes and pulled him into a kiss. He smiled through it and that made me smile as well.

I’m going to marry this man.

[interstellix]

airplane ↳ kim seungmin

genre: fluff

summary: in which you and seungmin are finally able to go on the trip you’ve planned for since long

word count: 1110

requested: no

warnings: none

a/n: LISTEN this is the Epitome of Cringe but i haven’t written in months but i love airplane sm so i just :’(( had to write smth based on it :’(( so ye have mercy on me lmao 

the toddler a few rows ahead has, after what feels like a lifetime, stopped crying. there’s no random, annoying kicking against your seat anymore as the old man behind you seems to have fallen asleep. the food you had not all too long ago was surprisingly good, now feeling full, though not regretting having eaten the dessert you had saved for last. there’s the low rumbling of the engines and the occasional turbulence sending butterflies in your stomach. however, not as much as,

“seungmin?”

from the middle seat next to you, said one opens his eyes and peeks at you, humming. “do your ears still hurt?” you ask, referring to how his ears started hurting from the air pressure an hour or two ago.

seungmin shakes his head with a small smile, “sucking on that candy worked after all.”

you snort, “listen to me next time.”

he laughs at your half-joking reaction but through the sound of it, you can still make out the exhaust in it. looking at him, you note how he does look tired as well. it’s not really surprising, seeing how he probably hasn’t been able to fall asleep from the previous pain.

you hum at him and when seungmin curiously glances at you, you gesture to your shoulder the closest to him. “you look tired.”

he looks hesitant but still asks, “are you sure?”

nodding at him, you’re met by another, grateful smile as seungmin leans closer to rest his head on your shoulder. before too long, you feel his body relax against yours and you’re almost certain he has fallen asleep within the time span of a few minutes, until he suddenly says,

“you should get some sleep too.”

“I’m good,” you answer and turn to look out through the window.

seungmin sighs, “y/n, you’ve been staring outside ever since we lifted and it’s been, what, four hours. aren’t you tired?”

“I’m not.” there’s a pause as you keep scrutinizing the view for a few moments. “it’s pretty. can’t help it.”

it’s true, really; you could’ve read the book you brought along in your handbag, or watched a movie on the screen on the back of the seat in front of yours. you could’ve listened to one of the podcasts you’ve saved on your phone on offline-mode or played the game you recently bought for your nintendo switch.

you could even have slept but no. instead, you have spent the past mentioned four hours staring out through the slightly dirty window; the clouds rise like soft mountain peaks; the cotton-like fragments are scattered across and high above the ocean, resembling delicate trails of a paint brush spreading white over blue. stretched all the way to the horizon, they almost shine under the light of the early morning sun. every now and then, you catch airplanes in the far distance flying past but other than that, there’s not much more to see and yet you observe the view as if it were scenes from an oscar-nominated movie.

seungmin hums again in what sounds like agreement, “true, sure is pretty...”

as he says this, a pair of admiring eyes are glued to you while you’re still busy watching one cloud after another.

when you let out a chuckle, he asks, “what’s so funny?”

you point an index finger at the fourth or fifth plane you see flying past. “where do you think they’re heading?”

seungmin can’t help chuckling himself, the question sounding like something a seven year old would ask. nevertheless, he still answers, “maybe back to south korea.”

“... where do you think they came from?”

“maybe where we’re heading now?”

you turn back to seungmin to see him smile only to make you reflect the gesture. “sure took a while until we got this trip through.”

“I mean, both of us were busy with uni and work; can't say economy always was on our good side either,” he begins but soon beams, “but at least we finally got around to it.”

laughing at the mix of peace and excitement he flashes you, you can only nod in agreement before turning back to stare out through the window.

perhaps it’s the calm staining your features, or the content smile on your lips, or maybe it’s really just looking at you but whatever it is makes seungmin intertwine your fingers with his. your smile inevitably grows wider when he brings your hands up to press a feather-light kiss to your knuckles. in return, as they fall back to the small space between your seats, you softly run your thumb across the back of his hand.

"it really is pretty..." you soon comment again, still busy scrutinizing the outside world.

when he speaks, the low hum his words come out in shows how he's the blink of an eye away from sleep and yet, the hint of playfulness lacing his voice doesn't go unnoticed, "not prettier than you though."

"have you always been this cheesy?"

seungmin answers in a yawn, "jesus christ, just take my compliment."

you can't help laughing again but still let out a softly murmurred "thanks," before pressing a light peck to his temple. you pause for a moment and contemplate whether you should disturb him from falling asleep once more or not. in the end, you decide to speak up, cheeks dusted in pink as if it's the first time you utter the three words,

"I love you."

he doesn't respond immediately but eventually, a snort escapes him and a grin crosses his face. "and you call me cheesy, saying that out of the blue."

before you can answer though, seungmin tilts his head up; sleepy and half-shut but warm eyes lock with your own as he settles a gentle kiss to your lips. it's light and doesn't last for more than a second but it's impossible to miss the way ot conveys the purest of feelings he could ever possibly hold for you. he parts, and you're met by a loving smile on his lips as he leans his forehead against yours,

"I love you too."

before long, seungmin finally falls asleep. the baby's screaming comes to life again, the old man has returned to his annoying kicking against your seat. the engine is loud in your ears, the turbulence keeps your stomach spinning and the view outside is still worth admiring.

however, it's like none of it matters anymore.

with him so close next to you and a serenity like never before running through your blood, you soon find yourself fast asleep as well, resting against him, hands still intertwined.

[fvlminare]

✗✗✗   you see [ camille rivas ] around lately? yeah i heard that the [ cis female ] is up to no good. [ she / her ] has been here for [ three years ] now but they’re still pretty [ calculating ] which is fine because they’re also [ ardent ] so it balances out. the [ twenty-six ] year old [ dancer at mayhem ] actually looks like a lot like [ sofia carson ], don’t you think? it’s best to watch out, though, because it’s been said that they’re really into [ the rush of cocaine in her veins & a vice grip on her throat ]. 

henlo it me again! i hope u guys aren’t sick of me yet bc here’s my other bb! say hello to my boss-ass bish gal camile! she’s sassy, classy and a lil badassy. she’s a rather feisty, fiery, ball of rage and anger who cba with ur bullshit tbh n she’ll tell u this too if u piss her off enough! she’s lowkey cutthroat and always out for number one, aka: herself. but, i mean, she does have some redeeming qualities and her hair is bomb af so that makes up for it all really, doesn’t it? basically that meme: ‘ she’s beauty, she’s grace, she’ll punch you in the face. ’ anywho, you know the drill, slap a lil luv on this n i’ll come pester u for all the good stuff : - ) 

fundamentals.

CAMILLE ALARA RIVAS     —     twenty-six, dancer at mayhem,   +   an honest-to-god vixen   /   hellcat   /   lil demoness ! 

aesthetics   ➤   dresses of black lace and red velvet, the scent of chanel perfume lingering in the air as she floats past, blood-red fingertips coiled around the pistol grip of a gun, red-bottomed heels clicking against marble floors, rose gold highlighter shimmering along the height of prominent cheekbones, satin dresses draped over a svelte frame that is shrouded in an air of mystery and intrigue, baby pink roses in a vase on the window sill, deft fingers stained with charcoal and oil paint, the melodic chime of piano keys, delicate digits adorned with moonstone gem rings, a coy smile spread across full crimson lips, long raven locks blowing in the cool breeze of a summer’s evening, battered books with dog-eared pages, a sense of freedom and carelessness when dancing for fun, & a sense of allurement and captivation when dancing for work.

nicknames. cam, cami, mil, millie, spawn of satan >:~)

date of birth. april tenth.

gender. cis female.

pronouns. she + her.

birthplace. manhattan, new york.

orientation. pansexual + demiromantic.

education. bachelor of dance degree obtained from nyu tisch school of the arts.

spoken languages. can speak fluent english, spanish, & latin.

negative traits. capricious, ornery, impulsive, guileful, caustic, brusque, obstinate, destructive, deceptive, & promiscuous.

positive traits. ardent, whimsical, intrepid, graceful, poised, elegant, headstrong, observant, independent, & confident.

strengths. optimistic, energetic, creative, practical, spontaneous, rational, knows how to prioritise, great in a crisis, & relaxed.

weaknesses. stubborn, insensitive, private, reserved, easily bored, dislikes commitment, & has a rather risky behaviour.

talents. ballet, knife throwing, hand-to-hand combat, horse riding, figure skating, piano, violin, painting, singing, & dancing.

physiology. hazel eyes. dark brown hair. five feet, four inches tall. of a petite, slender stature with subtle curves and long hair. has a long silvery scar on her back. her skin is clean of any tattoos. has both earlobes pierced. requires glasses but wears contacts most days. is right-handed.

psychology. aries zodiac. fire element. ravenclaw house. istp-a. true neutral. type seven enneagram. choleric temperament. intra-personal intelligence type. addicted to alcohol, tobacco, and cannabis. suffers from addiction and abandonment issues. her vices are lust, greed and wrath. her virtues are ... ( again ) honestly, probably just diligence tbh.

background.

possible triggers   :   child abandonment, abandonment issues, foster homes, alcohol, drugs, violence, gore, blood, murder, & death.

a synopsis.   ok so for this gal, let’s all give a big, warm welcome to sadness ( no, i was in no way at all inspired by salem from sabrina for that line ) bc boy oh boy, her life has been constant grief and pain, tbh. strap in for the bumpy ride, i’ll give u cookies for compensation. OK SO, camille was abandoned as a baby, never did—and still doesn't—know her biological parents and she doesn’t want to either, tbh. she bounced around from foster home to foster home, never sticking in one place for too long. given her turbulent upbringing, she was somewhat of a difficult child. too boisterous, too unruly, too stubborn, too inquisitive. too much of everything but never enough of anything. never enough for anybody to want her. it didn’t take the girl too long to figure out that it was just her alone, against the big bad world. from the age that she was old enough to realise it, camille knew that she had to fend for herself—that she could never truly rely on a single soul but herself. the hollowness inside her chest never quite satiated, leaving her empty and only too well aware of the lack of her real parental figures. as a young adolescent, this started to crawl under her skin and mess with her mind. it rendered her void of affection and unable to form genuine bonds with others—filling her with deep-rooted resentment that festered beneath the surface of the indifferent demeanour she plastered over herself every day. she always felt starved of love: as if some integral part of her heart was missing, leaving a gaping void that nobody could ever fill. anywho, she fell in with the wrong crowd which did little to aid her foster families hostility toward her. truthfully, most of her experiences in various homes were ... not pleasant. she’d encountered abusive ‘parents,’ horrible ‘siblings,’ and even worse schooling days. pressing the self-destruct button is this gal’s speciality thus she found herself gravitating towards her vices: things and people she knew were no good for her. drink, drugs, people, you name it. quickly, she realised that these things were no longer any good at keeping her dark side at bay: she needed something more, something deeper. thus, she began going down the road of petty crimes—stealing cars, smashing windows, theft, setting fires both metaphorically and literally. due to this lifestyle, she wound up entangled with some real shady folk who did … even shadier things. most specifically, she started dating a real jackass who was violent and truthfully, a horrible person, really. stupidly, she decided to run off into the metaphorical sunset with him * insert eye roll emoji here. * so, fast forward a year or so and things took a swift nosedive when her lowlife boyfriend’s hands were round her throat and not in the kinky way. while she’d clawed at him and tried to fight him off, she struggled against his weight and strength until, eventually, she lifted the first makeshift weapon she felt: a rusted pair of scissors. [ TRIGGER FOR VIOLENCE, GORE, BLOOD, MURDER, DEATH ] and, in a blind state of panic, she jammed them right into his jugular vein, his blood squirting out and decorating her face in crimson splatters. he’d stumbled backwards, clutched onto his neck, blood spurting from the webs between his fingers. naturally, camille was shook about this but somehow managed to flee the scene with less guilt rattling her soul than she’d imagined. [ TRIGGER OVER ] in her mind, it was an act of self defence. it wasn’t too long after the incident that she found herself in a rather perilous situation that resulted in her sudden realisation that she needed to get her damn life on track. therefore, she done the responsible adult thing and got herself a decent education. somehow, she managed to get into university where her life started to shape into a positive one—the kind she’d always dreamed of. once she graduated, camille decided that she wanted to see the world. following a couple of years travelling, she wound up in santa ysabel where she quickly fell into the employment of mayhem. admittedly, this was a far cry from the future she’d envisioned when she was just a sweet, innocent lil child. still, all in all, she kind of digs who she is and what she is: after everything she’s been through, she loves herself. it’s been a long and winding road but camille finally believes that she’s settled in her life now. tho she still refuses to let people in, her abandonment issues terrifying her to the degree that she feels that anybody she’d ever let into her life would eventually leave her in the end. * insert sad face emoji here. *

random extras.

her tell? playing with her hair: when she’s lying, nervous, flirting—you name it!

can drink any man under the table. 

she loves art in every form: paintings, sculptures, music, dance, people, etc. she loves the freedom that expressing herself through these mediums gives her.

she’s ... experimental. she’s experimented with just about everything: hairstyles, clothing, drink, drugs, people ...

can be hella calculating and vindictive so do not cross her.

quite power-hungry tbh.

she does have a shot at redemption but she doesn’t want it lmao. she’s already been to hell so why bother trying to right her wrongs?

and boy, are her wrongs a century-long list shkjsh.

high key is not above killing people who don’t do things her way.

doesn’t believe she’s capable of loving anyone.

she’s lowkey a perfectionist to the point of being ruthless, also cutthroat and egotistical.

if ya ain’t of use to her, then what the heck is ur purpose???

she’s v ambitious, v morally ambiguous, v self-serving and v self-involved.

she can be ... aggressive sometimes and most definitely has anger issues.

dry sense of humour one million per cent.

her signature look is her blood-red lips.

extremely skilled with knives and blades. and always carries one on her person at all times.

her most prized possession is her brushed chrome zippo lighter. it has her initials engraved into it and where she got it from, or who is something she’ll never tell.

always says she needs to quit smoking but never does and probably never will either.

did someone say ... resting bitch face???

tho when she smiles it’s like sunshine uwu

high key will sleep with anyone.

first place is the ONLY acceptable place, ok??? 

one of those people who just excels at everything she tries her hand at.

absolutely adores animals. much prefers them to humans.

she’s quite adventurous and loves to feel the adrenaline in her blood.

doesn’t take herself or her life too seriously.

always up for a good time and is usually the life of the party.

outspoken and quick-witted with a sharp tongue.

much too sassy and sarcastic for her own good.

really, she does what she wants to, when she wants to, without seeking the approval of others.

truthfully? she’s a bit of a spitfire if you really irk her. so, watch out.

you can find a pinterest board for her by clicking anywhere here.