#like went over the word count by a bit got away from me lolol

[winxanity-ii]

RESONANCE

ship: various!bnha x fem!reader warnings: non-explicit word count: 5.5k a/n: just wanted to spit out a lil one-shot, not sure if I'll make a full fic from this but who knows lolol; tell me what y'all think…

★·.·´🇲‌🇾‌ 🇭‌🇪‌🇷‌🇴‌ 🇦‌🇨‌🇦‌🇩‌🇪‌🇲‌🇮‌🇦‌/🇧‌🇳‌🇭‌🇦‌/🇲‌🇭‌🇦‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

All your life, people gravitated to you.

It was something that felt almost like gravity—a pull that made others orbit around you, with secrets and vulnerabilities spilling out like some cracked, overflowing dam.

They couldn't help it, and it wasn't something you actively tried to do either.

Your Quirk, Confidant, was a force of its own, turning you into an unwitting confessional booth for whoever happened to cross your path. Whether you were ready for it or not, they opened up.

There had been days when you tried to keep it off, to put up the wall and protect yourself from the sheer emotional weight that others dumped at your feet. But it took too much effort, too much focus to constantly repel that need in others.

If someone came to you, tearing up over a breakup or raging about the stress of everyday life, you'd let them; it was just easier to let it run its course.

And, sure, there weren't any physical drawback—no energy drained or migraines induced. But to you, there was a burden no one else seemed to recognize: the reboot.

Once someone started talking, your mind went into what you had nicknamed "short-reboot mode." It was like something within you flipped a switch, and suddenly, every part of you worked to cater to them.

Your eyes would track every shift in their expression, your ears catching every wobble in their voice. You'd analyze, break down every cue, every breath, until your responses flowed with practiced ease—the words that person needed to hear, the exact tone that made them relax.

Sometimes, you'd offer a soft, comforting touch. Other times, you'd say nothing at all, just be a presence there to anchor them.

When it was over, and they'd leave—well, that was when things got weird.

Not for them; no, for them it was almost as if a fog rolled over their memory of the whole thing. A protective influence that made the event seem far-off, unimportant, a comforting haze to keep them from fixating on you.

For you, though? You'd collapse in bed later on, mind swimming with everything you'd absorbed, while the Quirk worked behind the scenes to sort and compartmentalize every scrap of information.

It all got stored away—permanently—so you'd never forget.

And because of that, you hated it.

You hated how your brain worked on autopilot for everyone else, how every emotional exchange was something you'd retain forever while the small, everyday things slipped right through the cracks.

You'd put down your phone and lose it within minutes, or take things into a room one by one when you could easily grab everything at once. Your grandfather loved to tease you about it, always laughing as he cackled out, "Book sense, not a lick of common sense!"

Today, it was no different.

You groaned as you walked down the stairs from your bedroom, a yawn escaping your lips as you shuffled along.

You looked every bit as tired as you felt—oversized hoodie hanging loosely from your shoulders, the fabric wrinkled and slightly twisted, and your oversized socks pooling around your ankles.

Your clothes were a patchwork of dark shades, clinging to you in a way that made it clear you'd grabbed whatever was closest without a second thought. Your hair was pulled back into a lazy ponytail, secured with a shoelace of all things, because you couldn't find a single rubber band.

You sucked your teeth at the thought, recalling how bit by bit, you had given away every one of your hairbands over the last few weeks to others who needed them. "I just bought that bulk pack," you muttered under your breath, feeling the mild frustration bubble up as you ambled into the kitchen.

The moment you stepped into the bright atmosphere of the kitchen, it felt like you were walking into another world. The colors, the light, the very mood—all of it was the opposite of you. The kitchen was warm, sunlight pouring in through the curtains, highlighting the cheery yellow walls.

Your mother was already bustling around, her cotton candy pink hair tied neatly at the base of her neck, her slender form moving with practiced grace as she prepared breakfast.

Her skin was a deep, rich shade of brown, and her eyes were bright yellow, almost glowing, with small opal-like moles at the corners that caught the morning light. She looked like something from a storybook, too perfect for the mundane scene unfolding around her.

The moment she noticed you shuffling over, she gasped softly, a bright smile blooming across her face. "Good morning, ____~," she sang, her voice lilting and sweet. "Did you have a good rest?"

You grunted in response, barely managing to pull the chair out before plopping down into it, your face half-hidden by the hood of your sweatshirt.

"That's great, sweetie~," she chirped, entirely unfazed by your lack of enthusiasm. She set a plate of food in front of you, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your cheek. "Eat up. Your big brother will be taking you to school soon—you know how he gets about wanting you to be on time." She gave you one last gentle pat before twirling away, humming to herself, lost in her own vibrant little world.

It wasn't long before the rest of your family joined you. Your father and brother came down the stairs only seconds later, both of them just as bright and awake as your mother.

Your brother's footsteps were loud and purposeful as he approached, his hand ruffling your hair as he passed by. "Morning, sis," he said, his voice cheerful, a bright grin lighting up his face.

"Morning," you mumbled, barely looking up.

Your father followed, his broad shoulders taking up the space in the doorway for a moment as he stepped into the kitchen. His blue hair was tousled but neat, the same shade as the sky on a crisp morning. His green eyes were sharp but softened when he looked at you, a smile spreading across his face.

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Good morning, little love," he said, his voice deep and warm, wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.

You sighed softly, nodding in response as they settled at the table.

Your mother moved between them, setting their plates down before finally taking a seat herself, her smile unwavering as she looked at all of you.

The scene was perfect, almost unreal in its harmony—the three of them chatting easily over breakfast, their voices blending together with the soft sound of birds chirping outside the window.

Even though it was a regular, cloudy day, the kitchen seemed filled with sunshine, the warmth radiating from your family like a beacon. Everything about the morning—the bright voices, the gentle smiles—made it feel mythical, as if you were living in a fairytale.

It was always like this: your family's moods almost too perfect, too light. How could they not be, though, when they had you? Built-in therapist, problem solver, always there to smooth over any tension, any hint of unease.

They could always be at their best because you carried the weight for them.

As everyone finished up, your brother stood, gathering the dishes and taking them to the sink. Your mother got up as well, moving to grab everyone's packed lunches for the day.

Your father turned to you, his gaze softening as he addressed you. "____," he started, his voice gentle but with a hint of something else—hesitation, maybe? "Could you come by my agency later after school? We've got a case... or, well, a patient. I could use your help again."

You hummed, a small sound of acknowledgment as you poked at the last bit of food on your plate. "Sure," you said, though the idea of it made your shoulders droop a little. It wasn't that you didn't want to help, but the thought of more people, more emotions, more weight, felt heavy already.

Your father's smile brightened, and he reached over, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Thank you, little love. You know it means a lot to me." He worked as a hero, and it wasn't uncommon for him to ask for your help.

He ran an agency called Constellation, and his quirk, Record, a photographic memory that worked both by touch and mentally, made him one of the best at what he did. He primarily worked with police and undercover heroes, solving cases that required an eye for detail that few others had.

Ever since you'd gained your quirk, he'd relied on you for the more delicate matters—the emotional weight of things that even he couldn't quite process alone.

A few seconds later, your brother returned, his grin blinding as he held out your backpack and lunch. "C'mon, sleepyhead," he said, his eyes bright with excitement. "I got your stuff. Let's go catch the train."

You pushed your chair back, standing up with a stretch. "Yeah, yeah," you muttered, taking the bag from him. You turned to your parents, waving lazily over your shoulder. Your mother and father stood side by side, your father's arm wrapped around your mother's waist. She towered over him with her lithe frame, his head just reaching her collarbones. "Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad."

"Bye, sweetheart!" your mother called, her voice as sunny as ever.

"Have a good day, little love," your father added, giving you one last smile before you followed your brother out the door.

The cool morning air hit you as your brother led the way down the sidewalk, his usual confident stride carrying you both towards the train station.

You glanced over at him, watching as he talked animatedly, his hands moving to emphasize whatever point he was making. He was always like this—full of energy, especially in the mornings, unlike you, who was still trying to wake up.

As you both settled into your seats on the train, your brother continued to talk, his voice carrying over the quiet hum of the train. He was telling you all about his third year at Shiketsu High, his eyes sparkling as he described how different and fast-paced everything was compared to the previous year.

He even started rambling about his work-study with Fatgum, who he mentioned was an alumnus of Shiketsu High, and his fellow collegues, some guys named Suneater and Red Riot.

You glanced at your brother as he spoke, taking in his features. He looked like a perfect mix of both your parents.

His hair was a blend of your mother's bright pink and your father's deep blue, swirling together like cotton candy, giving him a vibrant and almost ethereal look.

His eyes were a mesmerizing combination of green and yellow—a galaxy of colors that seemed to shift with his mood, as if reflecting the emotions he felt around him.

Scattered across the bridge of his nose were luminescent, opal-like freckles, glowing faintly in the light as he spoke. They weren't just decorative; they were part of his Quirk, Emotilink—which was inherited from your mother—would glow and shift in color depending on the emotions of those he touched, allowing him to feel the emotions of others.

Together, their abilities made them almost like human mood rings, their markings betraying the emotional states of anyone in their vicinity.

Your brother was tall and broad-shouldered, his husky build making him seem both strong and comforting. His skin tone was a perfect, ambiguous shade—not quite pale, not quite dark—striking a balance that made him stand out without fitting neatly into any one category.

He carried himself with a confidence that only seemed to amplify the presence of his quirk, his luminescent markings always a glowing reminder of what he could do.

You, on the other hand, looked nothing like the rest of your family.

When you were younger, you'd had your mother's yellow eyes and your father's blue hair. But after your Quirk had manifested, everything about you seemed to change.

Your features had shifted, becoming more subdued, less distinct, until you were left with an appearance that could only be described as forgettable. Your hair had dulled to a mousy brown, and your eyes had lost their vibrancy, now a muted shade that seemed to blend in with the rest of you.

Sometimes you wished your Quirk was just that—forgettableness. Maybe then you wouldn't feel the weight of everyone else's emotions pressing down on you.

You were pulled from your thoughts when your brother grabbed your wrist, his grip firm but gentle as he pulled you up from your seat. "Let's go," he said, his voice filled with his usual enthusiasm.

You barely had time to react before he was practically dragging you out of the train and towards the school.

It was a routine you were used to by now—your brother carrying you along, making sure you got where you needed to be without any issue.

He didn't even break a sweat as he deposited you in front of the school gates, his hands moving to smooth out your clothes and pat down your hair, completely uncaring of the looks you both were getting from the other students.

"Aaand... there!" he said, stepping back with a satisfied smile. He handed you your backpack, his grin widening. "Alright, sleepyhead, I'll meet you here after school to take you to Dad's agency, okay?"

You nodded, adjusting the straps of your backpack. "Yeah, okay," you replied, your voice barely louder than a mumble.

He bent down, staring you right in the face with a grin. "Have a great day, alright?" he said, his eyes filled with warmth and encouragement. He reached out, ruffling your hair one last time before turning to head towards his own school. "See ya later!"

You watched him go, a sigh escaping your lips as you turned to face the school. You never really understood why he insisted on taking you to school every morning, especially when his own school was a twenty-minute walk in the opposite direction.

But then again, he'd managed to maintain perfect attendance for the past two years, so he must have been doing something right.

With another sigh, you pulled out your headphones, hoping that maybe—just maybe—they would be enough to keep people away today. You knew it was a long shot, but it was worth a try.

As you walked through the gates and into the bustling courtyard, you could already feel the familiar pull—the curious eyes, the hesitant glances, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air.

You pushed your headphones over your ears, the music drowning out the noise around you, but it wasn't enough.

It never was.

You stayed behind in the classroom during lunch, deciding to give yourself a break from the constant buzz of students. The cafeteria was always too loud, too busy, and you needed a moment to just be alone.

You pulled out a packet of fries you had bought earlier, munching on them absentmindedly while staring out of the window. The clouds rolled lazily across the sky, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to drift off, letting the quiet calm your racing mind.

You were jolted out of your thoughts when you heard your name being called. You turned, startled, to see your homeroom teacher hovering near the doorway. "____," she called again, her voice soft but carrying an unmistakable edge.

Your teacher, Ms. Hachiko, was hard to miss. She had a distinctly bee-like appearance, with large, round eyes that shimmered like polished onyx, and her entire body was covered in soft, fuzzy yellow fur.

Two delicate antennae sprouted from her forehead, and her long hair was pinned back into a neat bun. She floated a few inches off the ground, her wings fluttering quietly behind her.

But it wasn't just her that caught your attention. Standing behind her, with his shoulders slouched and an unmistakable frown etched across his face, was none other than Aizawa Shouta—the underground hero, Eraserhead.

You felt your eyes widen, and you choked on the fry you had just been eating, your throat seizing in shock. You coughed, hitting your chest several times as tears welled up in your eyes.

Both adults stood there, awkwardly waiting as you hacked out a few more coughs. When you finally managed to catch your breath, Ms. Hachiko gave you an apologetic smile. "____, you need to speak with Eraserhead here," she said, her antennae twitching slightly. "I'll leave you two to it," she added before fluttering out of the room, her wings buzzing softly.

You were left alone with Aizawa, who ambled over to the desk beside you and dropped himself into the seat, his tired eyes fixed on you.

He was wearing his hero uniform, his capture weapon loosely wrapped around his neck, and his dark hair hung messily around his face. He looked exhausted, deep lines etched beneath his eyes, but even then, there was something undeniably striking about him. He had an air of quiet authority that demanded respect, no matter how disheveled he appeared.

He stared at you for a moment before finally speaking. "Look, kid, I'm not sure why Nezu sent me here," he began, his tone blunt, "but apparently, you're needed for something. Honestly, you're a child, and you shouldn't even be involved in this. But here we are."

You blinked at him, still trying to wrap your head around the fact that thee Eraserhead was sitting in front of you, talking to you. He let out a sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. "Have you heard about the recent villain attack on the UA first-year training camp?"

You nodded slowly, recalling the news you had heard about it weeks ago. You remembered hearing that it was the same group of first-year students that had already had a run-in with villains at the USJ. "Yeah, I heard about it," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "They got some crappy luck..."

Aizawa gave a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, it's been rough on them, that's for sure. The thing is, my boss, Principal Nezu, wants you to help the students who were most affected by the attack—Class 1-A. The other students have been able to get help from their assigned therapists, but Class 1-A... they're different. They've built a wall around themselves so thick that not even the best world-renowned therapists can break through. They think this is just part of being a hero, that they have to suck it up and move on."

You frowned, a slight pang of pity tugging at you as you listened. You knew what he was asking before he even finished explaining. It wasn't like you had a choice anyway. If Nezu, the head of UA, was asking, then your small, out-of-the-way school, Okiyama Municipal High, wasn't exactly in a position to say no.

With a heavy sigh, you slumped back in your chair, dropping your half-eaten packet of fries onto the desk. "Will I be back before school is over?"

Aizawa rolled his eyes, clearly not impressed with your lack of enthusiasm. "Yes, you'll be back before the end of the day. Nezu already spoke with your parents. One of your father's sidekicks will pick you up from UA bring you straight to his agency. It shouldn't take too long—you're just meeting them and getting a quick assessment."

Shoulders slouching, you could already picture the long, draining night ahead of you. With a resigned sigh, you pushed yourself out of your seat, nodding reluctantly. "Alright, fine," you muttered, gesturing for Aizawa to lead the way. "Let's get this over with, then."

Aizawa gave you a curt nod, standing up as well. You followed him down the hallway, the silence between you two heavy but not uncomfortable.

It wasn't long before you were out of your small school building and on your way to UA, sitting beside the underground hero in a rather unremarkable car, driven by a UA staff member.

You were about to meet the students who had faced villains twice now, and you knew that whatever you were walking into, it wasn't going to be easy.

When you arrived at UA, the sight that greeted you was different from what you remembered. You had been to UA before, a few years ago when your brother brought you along during his campus tour while deciding where to attend high school.

Back then, UA had been impressive, sure, but now it looked almost like a university campus—new dormitories and additional buildings scattered across the grounds, giving it the appearance of a bustling college rather than just a high school.

Noticing your confused expression, Aizawa spoke up, his voice gruff but explanatory. "After the training camp attack, UA opened up dormitories to house students. Villains have become more audacious lately, targeting students even outside school grounds. The dorms are an extra precaution, meant to keep them safe."

You nodded, taking in the new structures as Aizawa led you through the campus. It made sense, given how much had happened to these students already. You felt a small pang of sympathy for them—it couldn't be easy, constantly looking over their shoulders, waiting for the next attack.

Eventually, you arrived at one of the dorm buildings, and Aizawa opened the door, ushering you inside.

You stepped into a spacious common area, expecting to see a dozen traumatized, weary teens gathered together. Instead, there were just two people sitting on the couch, their attention fixed on the television in front of them.

The room was warm and cozy, a stark contrast to the tension you felt brewing inside you.

The moment the door opened, both heads snapped towards you, their bodies relaxing slightly when they realized it was Aizawa. The redhead sitting closest to the door smiled brightly, while the blonde beside him scowled, his eyes narrowing.

"Kirishima," Aizawa grunted, his tone carrying a hint of exasperation, "where is everyone?"

The redhead—Kirishima, you assumed—grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh, some of them went out shopping, Sensei. And Deku and Shoto are out training."

Aizawa let out a long-suffering sigh, rubbing his forehead as if trying to stave off a headache. "I thought I told you all to stay put because you had an important visitor coming."

The blonde on the sofa snorted, his voice dripping with irritation. "What important guest, Sensei? Don't tell me it's that pipsqueak over there," he said, jerking his head in your direction.

You blinked, taken aback for a moment before letting out an affronted scoff. "Pipsqueak? I have you know, I'm taller than average," you sniffed, crossing your arms defensively.

The blonde gave you a withering look, scoffing again. "In what? Middle schoolers?"

Before you could retort, Aizawa intervened, his tired eyes narrowing at the blonde. "Bakugo, stop," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. He turned back to you, his expression softening slightly. "I was told to bring you here, so even though not all of them are here, you've got two clients. Have fun," he said, giving you a small wave over his shoulder as he left the room.

You stared after him, your stomach sinking slightly. "Clients?" Kirishima asked, tilting his head in confusion as he looked at you.

You forced a smile, feeling awkward under their curious gazes. "Uh, yeah. I'm here to... help you guys. I guess you could say I'm kind of like a counselor," you explained, scratching the back of your head.

Kirishima's eyes widened in surprise before his expression broke out into a wide grin. He jumped up from the couch, crossing the room in a few quick strides to extend his hand to you. "Well, that's super manly! So young, yet already helping people like this. I'm Kirishima Eijiro," he said, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

You took his hand, shaking it a bit hesitantly. His grip was strong but friendly, and you couldn't help but notice the small details about him—his bright red spiky hair, the way his eyes seemed so genuine and open, the muscular build that made it clear he took his training seriously.

There was an energy about him that reminded you of your brother—that same relentless positivity.

Lord, it seemed you had found someone who could give your brother a run for his money.

"I'm Hanabira ____," you replied, your voice a bit more steady now.

The moment your name left your mouth, Eijiro's eyes widened even further, and he let out a gasp. "No way! You’re The Emotional Hero: Emberpulse's sibling?!"

You blinked, taken aback. "Uh, yeah?"

Eijiro's grin grew impossibly wider as he continued, "Your brother talks about you all the time! It's like I practically know you already. He says you're always helping people out, even when it's not easy, and that you have this way of making everyone feel better just by being around."

You raised an eyebrow, a bit skeptical. "How did you even know? Our last name isn't exactly unique, and we don't look alike at all."

Eijiro blinked, then broke out into another grin, shrugging as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I don't know, honestly. Your brother just said you gave off this aura of immediate kindness. Like, you just have this energy that makes people feel safe, you know? So when you introduced yourself, it kind of clicked."

A gruff voice cut in before you could respond. "Only you would make such a dumbass connection, Shitty-Hair," the blonde from earlier muttered, standing up from the couch. He turned to face you, his intense eyes boring into yours.

He had a scowl permanently etched onto his face, his posture confident and almost confrontational. His blond hair was unruly, and you couldn't help but notice the small, almost imperceptible twitches of annoyance in his expression—like he was constantly teetering on the edge of irritation.

Eijiro just laughed, seemingly unaffected by the insult. "That's Bakugo Katsuki, my best friend," he said, gesturing to the blonde. Katsuki sucked his teeth, rolling his eyes but not bothering to say anything further.

Eijiro turned back to you, his expression softening slightly. "So, uh, what exactly are you here for?"

You sighed, holding your hands up. "Like Aizawa-san said, I'm here to help, but it's not exactly like I'm a therapist or anything. I didn't ask to be here either," you said, your tone a bit defensive.

Katsuki scoffed, crossing his arms. "We don't need a damn therapist," he muttered, clearly unimpressed.

You gave him a flat look, deciding not to engage in an argument. Eijiro, sensing the tension, quickly stepped in. "Hey, don't mind him. He's just... like that," he said, scratching his head awkwardly. "Uh, would you like to join us? We were just watching a movie."

You shrugged, figuring you might as well. "Sure," you said, trying to sound casual.

Internally, you figured it was better to stay and at least try to connect with them, given that the rest of the students weren't even there. Plus, Katsuki seemed like he'd be impossible to talk to seriously right now.

The three of you settled on the couch, and Eijiro quickly started chatting again, asking you questions about your brother, your Quirk, and your school. He leaned in a bit closer whenever you answered, his eyes bright with curiosity and genuine interest.

You could tell he was trying to understand you better, his questions growing more specific as the conversation progressed.

At one point, he asked about your brother's favorite hobby, sharing how they had bonded during training sessions over their shared love of working out.

"You know, your brother's kind of like a legend," Eijiro said, his eyes wide with admiration. "I know I already told you, but he always talks about you, and I was really excited to finally meet you. He says you're his biggest inspiration."

You felt a warmth spread across your chest—a mix of pride and embarrassment. You gave a small smile, shrugging. "He always exaggerates. I'm really not that special."

Eijiro shook his head vigorously, his red hair bouncing slightly. "No way! I can totally see it. You've got this calming vibe. It's like... you make everything seem a little less scary, you know?" His gaze lingered on you for a moment, and you could feel a slight buzz in the back of your mind—a familiar haze that signaled your Quirk almost activating.

You blinked, suddenly hyper-aware of your body language, realizing that your posture had subtly shifted to mirror Eijiro's, your smile matching his intensity.

Quickly, you broke eye contact, focusing on Katsuki instead, who was watching the interaction with an annoyed expression.

He caught your gaze, and his scowl deepened. "Don't let Shitty-Hair butter you up. He's got a habit of getting all sentimental," Katsuki muttered, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Eijiro laughed, giving Katsuki a playful nudge. "Aw, come on, Bakugo. Just trying to make our guest feel welcome."

Katsuki rolled his eyes, but there was no real bite behind his irritation. "Yeah, whatever. Just don't go crying on us, idiot."

The conversation shifted, and Eijiro asked more about your school life. You found yourself relaxing again, the haze receding as you focused on answering his questions.

He seemed genuinely fascinated by even the mundane details—how you spent your days, what subjects you liked, even your least favorite lunch options. There was a warmth in his attention, a genuine desire to know you, that made it easy to keep talking.

Time seemed to pass quicker than you expected, and even Katsuki, though gruff and standoffish, eventually chimed in with a few sarcastic comments.

You noticed that, despite his harsh words, he never actually dismissed anything you said. It was as if he begrudgingly accepted your presence, though he made sure to keep up his rough exterior.

At one point, Eijiro nudged you lightly with his elbow, a grin on his face. "You know, I think you and Bakugo would get along great if you gave it a shot. He acts tough, but he's got a good heart. Right, Explosion Boy?"

Katsuki's glare could have cut glass. "Don't drag me into your dumb ideas, Shitty-Hair," he snapped, but there was a faint blush on his cheeks, barely noticeable.

Eijiro just laughed again, unbothered, and you couldn't help but smile. It was strange, but you found yourself feeling a sense of comfort in their dynamic—like, despite their differences, they had a bond that was hard to break.

After what felt like a couple of hours or so, there was a knock at the dorm door. Aizawa entered, followed by one of your father's sidekicks, who gave you a nod. "Time to go," the sidekick said, their voice gentle but firm.

You stood up, giving Eijiro a small wave. "I guess I’ll see you around," you said.

Eijiro grinned, giving you a thumbs-up. "For sure! And thanks for coming by, ____. It was... nice."

You nodded, turning to follow Aizawa and the sidekick out of the dorms.

The ride to your father's agency was quiet, your mind still replaying the interactions you had just had. You found yourself mentally sorting through the profiles you had unconsciously built on both Eijiro and Katsuki so far.

Eijiro was enthusiastic, open, and incredibly genuine—his positivity seemed almost endless, and you could tell he was the kind of person who made it his mission to uplift others.

He had this earnestness that made you feel at ease, like he genuinely cared about the people around him. He was always leaning in, listening intently, and his questions showed just how interested he was in knowing you.

There was something infectious about his energy, and it reminded you so much of your brother—the way they both could fill a room with warmth just by being themselves.

Katsuki, on the other hand, was more of a closed book. He was gruff, blunt, and had an intensity that made it hard to know what he was really thinking.

Yet, underneath all of that, you could see small glimpses of something else—his scowl wasn't always as sharp as he wanted it to be, and he had moments where it felt like he begrudgingly accepted your presence.

He never outright dismissed you, and while his comments were sarcastic, they didn't carry the kind of malice you might have expected.

It was almost like he was challenging you to see past the tough exterior, to prove that you could handle being around him.

When you arrived, your father was waiting for you, his expression stern.

He grabbed your arm, his eyes serious as he looked at you. "Listen carefully," he said, his voice low. "The villain you're about to interact with is dangerous. He was part of the Vanguard Action Squad—Mustard. He's unpredictable, so I need you to be cautious. Understand?"

You swallowed, nodding. "Got it, Dad."

He gave you a small, almost reluctant smile, his grip on your arm loosening. "Good. Just... be careful, alright, little love?"

You nodded again, feeling the weight of what was about to come settle heavily in your chest.

This was just another part of your Quirk, another responsibility you had to shoulder—whether you wanted to or not.

A/N: so what's the verdit? will it be good as a fic or just do a one-shot series???

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

A Fresh Start [13]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: sick child, medical procedures, anxiety, reliving past traumas, panic and fear about losing a loved one

Word Count: 3,439

Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night, you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

A/N: HEY MY DUDES. THIS IS IT. THIS IS THE CHAPTER THAT INSPIRED IT ALL. I pictured the scenes in this chapter in my head, wanted to write it, but I knew in order to have the emotional impact I wanted it to have i had to build a full ass story around it and I did lolol.

Thanks to all who have shared their love! This is like my fourth update in four days but unfortunately that will slow a bit this weekend. I’m crazy busy this weekend so it might not be until next week that you get a real update.

Ch. #13: THE DANGER HAS PASSED, CYAR’IKA

Chapter Summary: You must relive your past in order to save your future.

“She was powerful,

not because she wasn’t scared

but because she went on so strongly,

despite the fear.”

-atticus

After deciding to go to the clinic, you paused only to tuck your blaster into the back of your waistband before sprinting out the door. It would take you at least fifteen minutes to get to the clinic, and that was if you ran the entire way. Hot wiring and stealing the neighbor’s speeder bike? That would take you two minutes top. A talent you had Tatooine to thank for. 

When you set Grogu in the speeder’s basket, so your hands would be free, he screamed. A mixture of unintelligible cries and ‘Ma’ over and over again. Hands trembling, you got the bike going and jumped on. It maybe wasn’t the safest to drive with Grogu in your arms, but you couldn’t bear to not hold him. The streets were bare of anyone and everyone. There had been no city wide siren for a warning, like Coruscant had, but the word about the pirates must have got around. 

Everyone was hiding.

As predicted, you got there in a quarter of the time on the speeder bike and when you reached the clinic you hopped off before it came to an actual stop. The bike ended up slamming into the clinic wall without someone to turn it away, but you were already halfway through the door. Just like the rest of Nevarro, it was bare. 

“Hey!” You screamed as you reached the empty front desk of the waiting room. “Daelar! Where the kriff are you!?” A woman, a young Twi’lek, poked her head out from around the corner. “You!” She jumped at your tone. “Get me Daelar right now.”

“He’s not here, ma’am.” She shook her head.

Whatever. You didn’t have time to chase that bastard. “Fine. Where’s the med droid!?”

“Broken.” She admitted. “If this is an emergency I can call a shuttle to take you off world.”

You felt the blood leave your face, your heart stopped in your chest, breath caught in your lungs. The words slipped from your mouth, aghast, “What did you just say?”

“Daelar left off world hours ago, and the droid has been malfunctioning since yesterday.” She repeated. “But I can…”

She was still talking. Her mouth was moving, but all you could hear was Grogu’s whimpering cries and a high pitched whine that filled your head⏤ as if a bomb had gone off and left you deaf to the world. Daelar left? He left off world knowing the droid was broken? Knowing that he’d be leaving all of this world without a healer? 

“How long for a shuttle?” You demanded. “How long to get to the⏤ How long!?”

“An hour tops, I would guess, but I cannot guarantee⏤”

“No, no, no.” You moaned. Even if that time estimate was accurate it was too long. Grogu was getting hotter and hotter, his cries getting weaker and weaker, and you hated the way his eyelids fluttered weakly. You shook your head. “Unlock the doors for me. I need to get back there.”

“I’m sorry. That’s for medical personnel only.” She replied. She set her hands on the desk.

“I don’t care.”

“Ma’am⏤”

Without blinking, you pulled the blaster out from the back of your waistband and leveled it at her. Her eyes widened in panic. Hands shot up in surrender. You chose to leave the safety on. You didn’t want to hurt this woman, but you weren’t going to let her stand in your way either.

“Here’s what’s going to happen.” You seethed. “That door will be unlocked, I will have access to the medical supplies, and I am going to save my son. This is going to happen regardless of the decision you make right now, but it’ll be easier for all of us if you help.”

She nodded once and you lowered the blaster. The Twi’lek hurried to the side door and you followed her. She used her hand print to open the door into the emergency medical bay. The large room had four cots in total, and the side wall was made up entirely of glass cabinets where you could see supplies and ingredients. You quickly set Grogu on the closest cot and the fact that he didn’t even react to being set down sent a sharp strike of fear through you.

“Hey, what’s your name?” You shouted back at the girl while hooking up Grogu to the vitals machine.

“Aayla.”

“What’s your training?”

“I’m⏤I’m new to this. I’m a tech.”

No official medical training, but a tech would be helpful. You pointed to her, voice clear and loud, to get your order heard. “Aayla, get four ice packs. I want one under him, on top of him, and on either side. I need to cool him down quickly. Understand?”

She nodded and turned to the supplies to get the ice packs. The vitals machine began to blare, and your head snapped back to look at it. Heart rate was much too fast, even for Grogu who ran high naturally. His oxygen level was hovering on the lower end of normal. His temperature though⏤ Maker⏤ it was 102 degrees and you watched in horror as the decimal point next to it changed from 3 to 7. It was still steadily rising. 

The sound of his whimpers, the blaring of the machine, you felt stuck. You were trapped in that moment once more watching Soran die. You shouldn’t have been her physician. It was too personal.

This was so much worse.

Aayla returning with the ice packs was what snapped you back to reality. You were scared, terrified, but you couldn’t afford to be. You swallowed every ounce of it and forced yourself to move. You needed to act. 

You had told Din it was normal for parents to panic, but you couldn’t.

Your next movements were a blur of muscle memory. It didn’t matter that this clinic was unfamiliar to you. Training kicked in and you moved like a woman possessed. Fluids first. You grabbed a bag and set it in the cooler before returning to Grogu with IV gear.

“Aayla.” You sent her to the supplies and called out all the materials and supplies you would need to compound the medicine. While shouting them out, you began to attempt to start an IV on Grogu. It wasn’t easy. His arm was small, his veins smaller. It took you three tries before you finally got it in. Aayla had brought over all the items requested and you sent her for the fluids you set in the cooler. “Clip it in, and hang it.”

Aayla confirmed the order and you stepped aside to begin to work. You needed an antipyretic first. The rising fever was the most dangerous aspect of Grogu’s sickness right now. Any higher and he could start to have seizures⏤ any higher and his body could shut down. Anxiety crawled up your spine and latched to your mind. It had been so, so long since you compounded anything. What if you messed this up? No. You didn’t have time to doubt yourself. Go with your gut. Trust yourself. 

When you added the last ingredient the liquid turned from clear to an electric blue and relief flooded your body. Aayla watched intently as you hurried back over and connected the vial of antipyretics to a medigun. You pressed the clean needle to Grogu’s outer thigh and pulled the trigger. All of the liquid disappeared and you set the gun aside.

 “How do you know how to do all this?” Aayla gasped.

“I’m a doctor.” You answered mechanically. 

Now, you needed an antibiotic. Same process. Different ingredients. You wanted to cover as many bugs as possible, go as broad as you could, and then once Grogu was stable the coverage could narrow to something more specific. It took you about the same time to make the antibiotic and when the liquid turned the shade of purple it was supposed to be you rushed back to Grogu’s side.

Aayla held up the medigun when you went to search for it and you realized she had replaced the needle with a fresh one and sanitized the entire thing. You thanked her and injected this one into Grogu’s opposite thigh. Fluids. Antipyretics. Antibiotics. That was all you could do. 

Now, it was out of your hands.

Din’s entire body ached, and he was exhausted. The only reassuring thought being that the fight was over, and he could go home. Home to Grogu. Home to you. As much as he still wanted to have that talk, he wondered if he could convince you to hold off until tomorrow. All he wanted right now was to crawl into bed with you and his son in his arms. Granted, he might need to have the talk before inviting you into his bed again. Details, details. Din just needed to get home, and you’d have a plan⏤ you’d know what to do.

 Clearing the rest of the ex-Imperial base had gone very well. When only two pirates were left standing they both surrendered. Din figured this could be used to their advantage. Pirates were hardly the loyal kind. A little squeezing and they could possibly find where Gorian Shard liked to hide. Granted, that was more along the lines of a bounty hunter’s thoughts than a Marshal’s. Din chose to come back with Mayfeld and Cara to shove the two pirates into the cells. They could be dealt with in the morning. 

“Good job today.” Din grunted, already moving toward the door, “Stay home tomorrow. Rest. I’ll work the shifts.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Cara scoffed. “We can still come in.”

“Uh, speak for yourself.” Mayfeld chimed. Din was halfway down the hall when Mayfeld called out for him. Din’s feet came to a stop and he heaved an audible sigh. This really was the day that would not end. “Boss man! Seriously! Get in here now!”

Din jogged back, happy that his helmet wouldn’t show just how annoyed he was right now, and when he re-entered the room both Cara and Mayfeld were crowded around a holopad. Cara glanced up and the look on her face filled Din’s stomach with lead. “An intruder alarm was set off while we were out. From the clinic.” Din’s entire body stiffened. No. He was jumping to conclusions. You promised you’d stay in the house, he called Daelar to go to you. There was no way you and Grogu could’ve been there while someone broke in. “You should see this.”

Mayfeld flipped the holopad around at her words and Din’s eyes focused on a security feed. A young Twi’lek girl stood behind the front desk with her hands raised in surrender while a familiar figure wielding a familiar blaster aimed the end at her chest. Din would recognize your voice anywhere, in any setting, at any time. Even with the security feed adding in a garbled white noise under it all, he knew your voice.

“⏤supplies, and I am going to save my son. This is going to happen regardless of the decision you make right now, but it’ll be easier for all of us if you help.”

He lifted his gauntlet to check his communicator link. What was going on? Why hadn’t you called? His eyes widened when he realized the circuitry in his vambrace was dead. No, no, no. He slammed his other hand into it as if that would miraculously fix it, but it stayed dead. The taser. Dank farrik. He should’ve been paying attention. Din had lost contact with you hours ago and was only just now realizing it.

Din spun on his heel and took off down the hall in a sprint. Cara and Mayfeld were calling out to him, he could hear footsteps following, but he didn’t pause and wait. The clinic was right down the road. He needed to get there. Din needed to be there⏤ now.

You had pulled over a stool and sat by the cot’s side. One hand resting on the half melted ice pack on Grogu’s belly and the other holding his tiny hand. Then you waited on baited breath. Aayla was moving about the room, cleaning you thought, but all you could do was stare at the young boy who looked so small on such a large cot.

“Please, please. Oh, Maker, please.” You mumbled the pleas under your breath⏤ willing the universe to bend to your will. Grogu was your first patient since Soran. If anything happened to him you wouldn’t survive it. You barely survived losing Soran. Kriff, it could be argued that a part of you didn’t. You watched Grogu’s chest rise and fall. ‘Please, please, please.’ You were pleading⏤ begging. If you thought it would help you’d get on your knees and scream at the sky.

Finally, the machines chirped and when you looked up from Grogu to read the numbers you saw his temperature had fallen two full degrees. Your lower lip quivered, relief slamming into you, and it took all your strength to not crumple to the floor.

Din barreled through the clinic’s doors⏤ hard enough that he accidentally shattered the glass as it slammed into the wall. The Twi’lek he had seen on video popped her head around the corner with wide eyes. She held her hands out.

“You’re the Marshal.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I hit the alarm because a woman came in⏤”

“Where is she!?” He barked.

“This is a misunderstanding. I don’t want to press charges⏤ she’s actually a doctor and⏤”

“Where⏤”

Cara slid in behind him and blurted. “That’s his son and wife. Let him through.”

The girl nodded in understanding, and Din couldn’t even spare a thought toward the title Cara had given you. The clinic worker pointed through a set of double doors and Din stormed past her without another second of hesitation. The back room was filled with cots and shelves of medical supplies.

Sitting in the corner though, he saw Grogu lying on a cot with an IV in his arm and connected to the machine on the wall. Din didn’t recognize all the numbers and symbols, but they were all written in a neutral green rather than a dangerous red. Right by his bed, you were perched on a stool with your hands holding onto Grogu while your head rested on the cot. At the sound of his arrival into the room, you lifted your head and your eyes widened. Din rushed toward you and you stood up so fast the stool fell to the floor. 

“He’s okay now. He’s stable.” You blurted. “Daelar never brought me the⏤ the medicine. Grogu spiked a fever and got worse, I tried to call⏤”

“My communicator broke. I’m so sorry.” Din leaned over the cot and cautiously ran a hand over his son’s head. Grogu didn’t look sick right now. He just looked like he was sleeping. Snoring softly without a single cough. “The fever⏤”

You spoke up. “It broke maybe twenty minutes ago? It’s normal now. All his vitals are. I gave him antipyretics and antibiotics for whatever infection he has. He’s stable.” Din let out a sigh of relief and he bowed his head to lightly tap against Grogu’s. Your voice shook. “He’s stable.”

Din slowly lifted his gaze to look to you. You had never looked so small before. Panic and fear still shone bright in your eyes despite the air of confidence you were trying to push out. Your arms were wrapped around your own body. Din took a step toward you and you flinched. 

“Cyar’ika.” He whispered. “It’s okay.” You nodded once⏤ swallowed hard. “You said it yourself. Grogu is stable. He’s safe.” Your lower lips quivered and he watched you bite down on it. Din took another step and held his hand out to you. “You saved him. You. You did this⏤ you saved him.” Tears collected in your eyes and you lifted your gaze to the ceiling as if to avoid looking directly at him. Din knew you must have been a storm of genius confidence just like he saw you last night. He had seen the video of you holding a stranger at blaster’s end to get the supplies you needed. Din also knew that sometimes it was easy to take action, grab ahold of the danger, and let your body act while your mind took a backseat. Instinct took over. When that happened, it was hard to slip back into reality. To relax. “It’s over now. The danger has passed, Cyar’ika.” Din set his hands on your arms. “Talk to me.”

Your eyes snapped to meet his and those collected tears streamed down your face. You shook your head, voice shaky and pained, “I was so scared, Din.” 

He was already pulling you into his chest at the same time that you leaned into him. Din cupped the back of your neck, squeezing in reassurance, as you buried your face in the crook of his shoulder. You sobbed into his neck⏤ tears soaking into his cloak. He whispered that everything was okay and his words slipped out in Mando’a out of habit. Din added in Basic. “You did so good, ner kar’ta.”

“I was so scared I was going to mess up.” You clung to him so tightly. As if he was the only thing anchoring you here. “He was so sick and I⏤I haven’t done this in so long. I was terrified⏤ He⏤If he⏤ If he died⏤” Din didn’t even like thinking along those lines. You suddenly pulled your face away from him, but Din wouldn’t let you get far. He kept you caged in his arms. You shook your head. “I⏤I didn’t want him to end up like Soran.” Your words came out between harsh sobs. “I didn’t want to be the reason somebody I loved died again.”

If Din wasn’t the kind to pay attention then your words would have been nonsensical. However, he knew you were hiding from something. He knew you had a past that led to a terrible injury. And he knew your name wasn’t Soran. The way you screamed it out that night he woke up. Plus, half the time when he called out to you using that name you never answered. Din got more response from calling you ‘Cyar’ika’. He knew all of this, he just didn’t care. Who you were didn’t matter to him. You mattered to him. You in this moment. You in his arms.

Din tore off his gloves, something he’d never do outside of the safety of his ship or home, but he needed to touch you. He needed you to feel the warmth. Din cupped your face tenderly, using his thumbs to swipe away the lingering tears. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead softly to rest against yours.

“I don’t know your history, I don’t know your past, but here’s what I do know.” Din spoke slowly, enunciated every single word so it would be seared into your mind. “You are an incredible woman. Smart, beautiful, brave⏤ You never cease to amaze me, and there is nobody in this galaxy that I would trust Grogu with over you.” The words rang true as they left his lips. It wasn’t a simple comfort. It was a declaration. “Every single day I leave my home, I know⏤ without a doubt⏤ that I am leaving Grogu in the most capable hands other than my own.”

“Din…” You breathed.

Maker, he wanted to kiss you. It wasn’t a desire born of lust. Not this time. Din wanted to press feather light kisses against every inch of your face. Use his lips to brush away your tears, to stop your lip from quivering, to chase away your fear. Never, in his entire life, had his helmet felt like such a restriction to him. A wall of beskar keeping him from bringing you the comfort you needed. The comfort he wanted to give.

“I trust you, and all tonight does is prove that I was right.” Din said. “You saved Grogu. Not me, not anyone else. You.” You took in a slow breath, the first steady one he had seen from you since he got here, and he felt his entire body relax at the sound. “Thank you. Just thank you.”

“Don’t thank me for that.” You replied. “I’d do anything for him. Anything, Din.”

“I know.” 

“I’d…” You paused. Your eyes closed and Din found himself missing the color. Even for the brief moment it was missing. “I’d do anything for you too.” Your eyes opened once more and the panic and fear had faded. Leftover tears clung to your eyelashes, but he was staring into eyes he recognized⏤ eyes filled with so much kindness and care that his knees felt weak. “I love Grogu and I… You…”

Din nodded and pulled away from your face so he could tuck you into his chest. His arms wrapped around you as he set his head atop yours. Din needed to feel more of you. He ran a hand up and down your spine, “You’re important to me as well, ner kar’ta.”

For the first time since he left the house this morning, Din felt at peace.

mando’a translations

Cyar’ika: Darling, sweetheart

Ner Kar’ta: My Heart

[narrators-journal]

Days 24 and 31 for Goro and Raoul please?

Okay, so! I wasn’t the most confident as I wrote this one, because I debated on mostly the poses for this one, then the set up gave me a bit of trouble. But! I’m honestly pretty happy where I ended up with it! Namely in how I decided to sort of combine this ask with my Akira x Loki ask! I also am very happy with my goofy ass idea of basically making Raoul a living sex machine. I think that’s very creative of me if I do say so myself lol. I hope you enjoy tho! Even if I did miss the mark on certain aspects or vibes. The Akira ask isn’t NEEDED for this, if you want, you can just take this as Akira sic’ing Raoul on Akechi or something lol.

Kinktober prompt list: Here

Kinktober masterlist: Here

CW: Hints of dubcon, teratophilia, drugging/aphrodisiacs, and kinda? Sex toys? Does it count as a sex toy if the monster’s mechanical, or is that still a normal dick lolol. Also, while it might be a tad light, breeding kink is there, at least in spirit.

Goro Akechi squirmed against his captor’s clawed hands. His teeth barred to the red-tinted, stale-aired subway tunnel that they sat in, but it did nothing to stop the relentless pace at which the humanoid monster’s mechanical cock pistoned into him. The monster’s cool, metal hands relaxed, yet firmly atop his thighs to keep him in place as his ribbed member drug against lube-slick walls and worsened the fuzzy thoughts that swirled in the detectives head.

I am so beating Akira’s ass when we get out of here...his persona’s a god damned cheater.He fumed, his teeth clenched together, his fingers wrapped around the base of the humanoid creature’s mechanical, bat-like wings. Who even teaches a persona like this Marin fucking Karin?!

Yet, when he went to try and verbalize the question to the monster that held him, all that came out was, “Raoul…” Panted into the stale, nasty air of Mementos, the brunette unable to muster much else beyond it thanks to the too-high warmth under his skin and the way the persona’s spell crawled over his skin like a fizzy fever. Which, when paired with the constant source of friction, forcibly turned the detective prince into a melted puddle against the monster’s torso. “Hush, detective. Relax and just let the drugs carry you away.” Raoul hummed, his voice similar to Akira’s, with that twinge of boastful triumph that annoyed Akechi to no end. But, unlike the actual Akira, Raoul’s voice was kept to a constant conspiratorial whisper thanks to a soundtrack of steam hisses. Which, paired with the whirs and metal thunks that Akechi could hear while his body was boneless laid against the monster in a mess of moans to explain just how Joker’s ultimate persona could double as an annoyingly good sex machine. “See? Much better when you’re like this. Just lay back and let me breed you.~” “You’re...you’re not gonna breed me.” Akechi growled through the cocktail of spells and lust, but his words only got him a soft pat on the head and a squeeze to his thigh.

So, Akechi was left to claw into the persona’s blazer-esque coat as his lightly ribbed cock incessantly brushed against the brunette’s prostate. Insults and growls at the tip of his tongue, but needy moans were all that fell from his lips. Shameful, lewd noises that were only shallow slashes to the detective’s ego because of the musty, garbage-littered subway tunnel that they sat in.

Because, thankfully Mementos was completely separated from reality. So, no one could walk by and see how a persona more built for stealth than fighting kept Akechi’s hips pressed into his lap, and could melt his brain by doing little more than keeping a firm grip on his thighs and letting his dick plunge itself into Akechi’s ass without any real thrusting. Which, was why Akechi could bare the embarrassment of being treated like little more than a toy in exchange for the delicious pleasure that pulsed through his bones. Which, was still embarrassing, even under the cover of an entire dimension away from human eyes, but also allowed a storm to steadily grow within Akechi’s chest.

If only you didn’t say such embarrassing things...then this could be perfectly fun. He thought bitterly at the persona through the fog of desire and artificial need. Even though the sharp-toothed monster couldn’t hear those words, and he couldn’t string the thought together without the slow build of madness tearing it apart on his tongue. Until the words were like cotton candy, right on his lips, yet so quick to vanish.

But, that didn’t matter too much, because after only a few more thrusts, that bubbled up storm struck out with a vicious bolt of lightning. A rush of euphoria abruptly flooded into Akechi’s veins, his senses washed out by a bright flash of white. As sudden as a real bolt of lightning, the same way his howl of a moan matched a storm’s harsh winds. But, just as quick as the flash appeared, it was washed away in the unstopped downpour of friction. Because, while Akechi’s body felt no stronger than a jello mold, Raoul was some steam punk monster built out of nothing but Akira’s perceptions, and he didn’t need to do anything to actually fuck Akechi.

So, while the brunette could only moan and whine against the new twinges of pain mixed into his pleasure, the monster simply chuckled and squeezed the thigh he kept an iron grip on. “Awwww, you came so quickly. How will you get properly bred if you dispell the magic so fast, detective?” The persona hissed, amusement and sarcasm heavily in his voice. Which, irked Akechi just enough to get a slurred, “You can’t even orgasm, you cunt…” “I’m still gonna give it the ol’ college try.~” I’m gonna kill Akira…

[scoutdoesstuff]

today's teafic! this one did NOT go where i was expecting at all, but we are back at the mechanic's shop with dean and cas. today's prompt is watermelon cooler

(i'm doing a month long writing thing where every day i write a short fic based on the name of a flavor of tea i've received as part of a month long tea sampler package)

There is a man watching Dean work. Dean knows this because he has a mirror installed in a discrete corner on his workstation. He’s had … experiences that make him the sort of person who likes to know if someone’s behind him or not. It has the added bonus of letting him know when he’s got a nosy customer.

Normally, Dean finds lookie-loos annoying at best and deeply offensive at worst. He’s pretty, which seems to make people doubt that he knows his stuff, but Dean knows what the fuck he’s doing behind an engine. Or worse, they think he’s pretty and they want to get to know him better, maybe over a nice cold one after work.

Dean’s not proud to admit that he’s said yes to some of the handsomer fellas and prettier ladies who have hit on him on the job. It’s nice to be touched though, sometimes, and Dean’s always found that beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Which brings Dean back to the guy watching him today. He’s surprisingly scruffy, considering the car that he brought in. The sedan’s a tasteful black, likely bought (or leased) within the last year, and fucking expensive. Dean wouldn’t be sorry to have a go around with her, though no one could ever replace Baby in his heart. Still. You get this gal on the flat road and Dean’s sure that he can get her to purr real nice.

Dean makes himself focus. He glances back again at the reflection of the guy standing behind him. He’s cute, despite his scruffiness. He’s tall, with a runner’s build and the amazing thighs that go along with it. His hair’s a mess and he’s lost his suit jacket and the Columbo trench coat that he came in with, but he holds himself well, at ease but still somehow alert and present at all times. His eyes are a bright, piercing blue. Dean wouldn’t mind getting lost in them for a little while.

He’s also staring at Dean like he’d kind of like to eat Dean up with a spoon.

Well. The guy doesn’t seem to have noticed Dean’s little mirror trick, yet, and Dean’s not above a little fun.

It’s stupid fucking hot today, so Dean didn’t even bother putting on his coveralls, so it’s just jeans and a t-shirt on him, sticking to him like a second skin. That was annoying about two seconds ago, but now it makes what Dean’s about to do next much, much easier to pull off. Dean tests his theory by bending over the sedan’s engine block. The guy drinks in the view, so Dean keeps going, first leaning a little further over the open hood of the car and then pulling his shirt up just enough so he can show a smidge of his naked back to the guy.

If the man was a little less in control of himself, Dean thinks there’s a good chance that he’d be drooling.

Dean goes in for the kill and leans fully over, showing off his (frankly great) ass. The other man’s eyes rake down Dean’s back, coming to rest on Dean’s ass after a torturously slow journey down Dean’s overall backside first. Those blue eyes go dark. Suddenly, Dean feels less like he’s messing with an annoying customer and more like he’s caught something he knows he can’t have, but desperately doesn’t want to let go.

He lets the moment linger, watches the way the other man watches him. For a few seconds, he lets the moment spin out in his mind, imagines this man taking him home. Thinks about what it would feel like to have old blue eyes press him against a wall, undress him, mark him up with those pretty, pretty lips, maybe even go three fingers deep in Dean, curling them until all Dean can do is beg and writhe and pray to be filled. Dean lets himself go one step too far and wish for other things, things he should know better than to think about, things that would involve the good kind of morning after bruises and that blue eyed stranger calling Dean “mine”.

That snaps him back to reality. Dean has one night stands and backseat hookups. Those other things aren’t for him.

The guy behind him still hasn’t clocked that Dean is watching him watch Dean. Dean needs to fix this guy’s car and then never fucking think about him again and he needs to it stat.

The other guy finally looks away. He takes a deep drink of the godawful coffee that Sam serves upfront and then stares at the cup in horror.

Dean takes his chance to move. When the guy next looks back over to Dean, Dean’s planted his ass on the front bumper of the guy’s car and plastered a shit eating, but still customer friendly, smile on his face.

“See something you like, hot stuff?” Dean says, means to pour all of his devil may care, fuck you Rich Boy attitude into it, but it comes out flirty as hell. Son of a bitch.

The guy looks mortified at being found out.

And then he surprises Dean.

“Yes,” he says, blue eyes never leaving Dean’s face and voice a low smoky rasp that sets Dean’s blood on fire.

The man seems surprised that he admitted that out loud. Dean waits for him to backtrack, either apologize or demand that Dean back off, maybe go full closet case and try to get Dean fired for being creepy or something.

Instead, he shocks Dean again, and commits. “Yes, you’re incredibly good looking. Forgive me for ogling, though. That was rude of me.” He clears his throat awkwardly, looks around the auto shop, not like he’s planning an escape but more like he’s looking for help. The silence is agonizingly long, but Dean’s brain has turned to static and all he can do is stare at the other man.

“I’m very bad at … socializing,” the other man says at last, sort of looking like he wants to hurl. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable —“

“Ask me out,” Dean’s mouth says before his brain can stop it.

The other man stops short and stares, squinting his eyes and tilting his head to the side. He’s almost bird-like, Dean thinks slightly hysterically, but if a bird were a puppy.

“You’re making fun of me.”

“No,” Dean’s mouth again says without his permission. “Ask me out.”

The man stares again at Dean. Nods once, twice, then squares his shoulders like he’s getting his bearings and getting ready for the firing squad, all at the same time.

“I know a good burger joint not far from here. Would you like to get dinner with me tonight?” The man asks, voice somehow impossibly raspier. It’d been a long time since someone was hot enough for Dean that just their voice could make him weak in the knees.

“Yes,” Dean’s traitor mouth whispers.

The guy’s responding smile is blinding.

(The burger joint, a hipster place that Dean had been too chicken shit to try, is good. Castiel is even better, even if he does insist on ordering a drink called a Watermelon Cooler).

[sanjisblackasswife]

“Reunion” Sanji x Black Fem Reader (NSFW/FLUFF) Sanji POV

Word Count: 2.8k (Thank u Kazu for telling me how to figure this out lolol)

Bad Summary: After 2 years of being away, you both needed to show each other how much you missed being in the presence of your love for one another.

CW: Soft Dom! Sanji, Needy!Sanji, Eye Contact, Deep Throating, Soft Sex, Kissing, Oral Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Tongue Sucking, Cuming untouched, L Bombs, Talks of Pregnancy/Marriage, not proof read.

I enjoyed writing in Sanji’s POV so I’ll be switching from him to 3rd in this. Also I may reference a little bit from “Lady K and the Sick Man”💀

Sanji POV-

2 long years. After 2 long years I got to see her again. I almost didn’t recognize her. I couldn’t move when I seen her on the Thousand Sunny yet I wanted nothing more than to run and hold her, kiss her, smell her I didn’t care I needed to be in her presence again.

All I did was think about her. I thought about her laugh, her jokes, her beautiful eyes that never seemed to stop having that glint when she smiled, her scent I couldn’t get enough of, the way how she fought beside me numerous of times, her soft hands caressing my face after I made love to her, how she always held me in her beautiful breast almost all night playing in my hair, her hot breath hitting my neck frantically as she never let go of me as she was cumming, crying my name over and over again, how her dull nails dug into my back always managing to leave scars,—fuck.

The long nights I had thinking about her were finally over. I missed her touch, I got strong for myself, my crew, and her of course. I wanted to make sure this new go round I keep her as safe as possible. I can’t lose her again. I won’t lose her again.

It’s been so long.

I was told she was in her room, —-dammit I just missed her. I wasn’t sure why but butterflies hit the bottom of my stomach as I went to look for her. I only saw a glimpse of her but I couldn’t believe how much she’s grown, SHE LOOKED SO HOT!

HER TITS WERE LIKE BEAUTIFUL SWEET CARAMEL MARSHMALLOWS

Is that a thing?

HER BUTT WAS A PERFECT 10–SO SOFT AND JIGGLY LIKE A CHEESECAKE

HER BEAUTIFUL SKIN THAT WAS KISSED PERSONALLY BY THE SUN REMINDING ME OF A WARM SUNET IN WHICH IF I STARED TOO LONG I COULD POSSIBLY BE BLINDED BY IT.

I MISSED THIS WOMAN SO MUCH!

Wait no.

I have to relax.

But I cant—

After everybody had set sail after saying their hellos again Sanji went to go look for you. His mind was going a mile a minute thinking about you once more, he actually felt a cold sweat come along causing him to undo his tie a bit.

There she is.

Her door.

My hands were shaking frantically. I knocked on the door and heard a faint “yes?”. I could recognize that beautiful voice anywhere.

“It’s uh…it’s me, Sanji.” I didn’t get a response for a few seconds, I heard her feet approach closer and closer to the door until…

“Hey.”

“Y/n…”

Her smile was just as breath taking as when I last seen it, she always managed to do it with her eyes too, I could have sworn time froze when she opened the door.

I missed her, so much.

She quickly wrapped her arms around my neck, fuck she smelled even better than I remembered too. Her body was so soft, her touch was so delicate I just couldn’t get enough.

“Long time no see, Ji.”

I chuckled with her at the nickname she gave me that she seemed to never let go of. It was more than fine though, because it was her saying it.

“You busy? Can we talk?” She pulled away searching my face while cupping my cheeks. I agreed to speak with her of course, I knew the privacy wouldn’t last too long because I had to start the feast soon.

We sat on the edge of her bed, and okay to be honest I couldn’t stop looking at her ass. She looked too damn good. I really tried my hardest not to pass out but from seeing Robin and Nami and more importantly Y/N I don’t think my heart can take all this!

We talked of course, losing track of time once again. I was laid on my back on her bed as she sat up beside me on her elbow playing with my tie. It was almost like we never left I couldn’t stop staring at her stunning gaze.

“When we Land to the new island I wanna show you my new movesssss. I. Y/N. Have gotten quieter stronger.”

“You have! You can show me whatever you like! You look amazing too, my love!”

She laughed hovering over my face, her lips just grazing mine, I started to feel hot again and she smirked noticing and took my cigarette out of my mouth to kiss me finally. She pulled back slowly giggling at me because I didn’t want it to end. AND I DID NOT HER LIPS TASTED SO SWEET AND WAS SO SOFT LIKE A CLOUD—

“I’m surprised you haven’t climbed on top of me already. Did you also learn self control, Ji?” Y/n teased, handing me back my cigarette as I sucked my bottom lip still looking at hers.

“Maybe…”

“Well…” She huffed and got on top of me, oh fuck I missed being under her. “I didn’t practice that much of self control to be honest…and if you want me to be blunt…IIIIIIII kinda been a bit antsy since I seen you arrive…so I ran to my room to calm down a bit.”

“Oh?—don’t Tell me My darling got…flustered?! Because of me?!”

“Shut up.” She chuckled holding her face with one hand, “Maybe…you’re all grown up now…’n stuff and…you look really good…or whatever.”

She was so cute like this. She always had a cute pout. I smile and rub my hands up her waist and thighs. She was wearing this pretty dress that exposed the sides of her thick thighs. Y/N was always so sensitive when I did that and it showed seeing how she jumped when I did it.

As well as her breast.

“I missed you a lot , Y/N… you know many times I—-“

“I know…I did too…I couldn’t help myself I thought about you almost every. Single. Night. Unfortunately—-” Her hands roamed my chest as she started to lower herself back over my face, “….my fingers can never compare to your pretty lips…or something else, but…I don’t wanna get too vulgar.”

I felt my cheeks blush, the thought of her touching herself, thinking of me I—-

Ok i got hard.

You felt the bulge of Sanji’s pants grow below you, pressing so sweet against your clothed cunt and you bit your lip in satisfaction. As much as you wanted to wait until later tonight when everybody was asleep, Sanji just was too predictable and looked way too good.

“Sanji….why don’t you show me how much you missed me…”

“Y/n…”

Her minty breath overcrowded mine somehow, I honestly been aching to fuck her since she opened the door, but I wanted our “makeup” sex to be special. Not just a quickie. She must have seen the conflict in my eyes and kissed me again. It was almost as if her lips washed away any form of concern I had and so I pulled her close to my chest squeezing the fatty mounds of her ass with both hands. My grip was firm making her to gasp and I used the opportunity to swirl my tongue in her mouth.

I felt some spit fall in between our kissing, but I didn’t care how sloppy it was it just made me more turned on to see her again. I couldn’t wait, I muttered a curse under my breath and sat up. Our lips never separated, I was hungry. She was hungrier and we both knew what could satisfy us.

“Get up and Take this off.” Y/N heavily breathed out tugging my pants. I don’t know why or what it was but she loved watching me unbuckle my slacks in front of her. Her eyes looked so full of lust and desire I couldn’t say no. I did. As told and her mouth was agape seeing me pull out my cock from my boxers the entire time—-she was so sexy like this.

She pushed me back a little and got on her knees. We always bickered about who will go down on who first, but right now I didn’t really give a damn she looked so needy on her knees stripping off all her clothing but her panties.

Her pretty doe eyes look up at me as she licks my balls to my cock, her fucking tongue was a weapon of itself I have no idea how the hell she learned these moves considering I was the one to take her virginity. Her eyes rolled back into her head moaning on my cock as it slid further down her wet mouth. I gripped her hair trying not to pull it, but she was making me damn near dizzy and —-

“Fuck! Y/n! Ah!” I moaned out, I came way too fast and she didn’t let up sucking me through my orgasm. I knew we would get so many weird looks when we came out to the crew but I couldn’t care less I had a beautiful woman begging with her lips to suck my dick after being around nothing but men for 2 years I DESERVE THIS.

The pain of overstimulation had my mind already numb, I pushed her closer to my groin, I felt the back of her throat pulsating on the tip and a few inches of shaft. Her nails clawed at my thighs as she dragged out a hum from her throat vibrating on my cock making me roll my eyes back moaning out her name. I didn’t give a fuck if anybody hears I hope that dumbass Moss head does and get jealous.

It didn’t take long for me to spray her pretty throat with my seed again, she always begged for me to cum in her mouth, and at first I didn’t really find it appealing to do so, but fuck that I let her pull away for a second and held her head with one hand seeing drips of my cum fall down the sides of her wet cheeks.

“‘S good?” She sighed scooping some of the cum from her lips and sucked on her finger moaning.

“Stand up.” Sanji commanded, you did as told immediately hearing the rasp in his voice, he kissed your lips making sure he tasted himself and your saliva combined. The taste was bitter, but addicting nonetheless. Sanji kept kissing until he pushed you on the wall to slide off the rest of your thin panties away swiftly and slid his fingers in your cunt. Slightly amazed at how wet you’ve gotten from deep throating him. He groaned at the slimy feel of your warm insides.

“Fuck I missed you—don’t leave me again okay?” I didn’t care how needy I sounded, y/n had to know how I felt. How much she meant to me. I couldn’t wait to taste her again. She was always my favorite sweet, I got on my knees. She blushed looking so embarrassed. I loved having to look up at my Princess.

“Hey. Look at me.” I softened my voice, “I have to see your face, baby. Remind me how you look when you cum—“

I didn’t give her anytime to reply I pryed her legs apart and placed her free hand in my hair before I opened her pretty pussy apart and sucked on her clit. I fucking needed this so bad. Her slit was so wet and so ready for me I grabbed her ass against and pushed her pelvis into my face completely.

“Oh Sanji!” Her moans were like a melody, I felt my cock twitch at every cry she did for me and to think I’m the one causing her to feel this good made me groan inside her I could almost feel myself getting ready to cum right with her.

“I missed this pussy so much…” I mumbled with her clit in between my lips tugging it a little and sucking carefully. I had a deeper craving so I threw her thigh on my shoulder and tongue fucked her mercilessly.

“I’m so close! Sanji—pleaseee ah!” She swayed her hips to the rhythm of my tongue . I felt my orgasm approach too.

“Cum—cum in my mouth..”

Just like the good girl she was she even squirted a little too, she tasted perfect. I felt myself leak and make a mess of the floor, but hopefully she didn’t mind it.

She began to shake in the legs, I didn’t mind I would catch her if she tried to fall anyways, picking her up I started marking her neck while moving her to the bed. I was overwhelmed with ideas; doggy style? Sideways? Matting press? I couldn’t think as I toyed with her slit with my fingers and sucked and licked her neck.

“Sanji…please..put it in…”

No time to really think if my Princess wanted my cock right then and there I just rose up a bit and slid myself right in. Words cannot explain how incredible she felt. It didn’t compare to any toy I got or my fist AT ALL.

She cockwarmed me for a moment. I Just couldn’t get myself to move. I knew if I did I’d probably end up cumming again. But my Princess was impatient feeling herself move her hips on her own so greedily causing me to fall all my weight on top of her giving her neck weak kitten licks.

“Baby w-wait wait I—“

“Please Sanji…ah! I need it! I need you!”

I couldn’t be so rude as to ignore my sweetheart’s wishes. I was still so Sensitive from already cumming 3 times, but I didn’t care she had to be taken care of.

“F-fffuck!” I strained out my mouth setting the pace of my strokes. My hips were stuttering against hers and I was too focused of fixing my thrust she grabbed my face to kiss me oh so passionately.

“You feel so good, Sanji….” Her soft words made me slow down and grab her body tightly against mine. She curled her legs around my waist not wanting to let go of my lips, moaning and crying out. She was so tight my mind was in a blur, we kept panting in between kisses to breath. We couldn’t be more closer and I loved it. Maybe it was because it’s been so long or maybe it was because I was too drunk off her amazing pussy to realize but she had already just came on my cock and I was still pumping her full.

“Sanji!”

She repeated my name in broken syllables with each drag of my cock as I went faster. I felt myself about to cum, I wasn’t sure why but I moved off her lips and rose up to grab her headboard. I saw the slightly excitement in her eyes as I pushed back her legs further, she held them tightly. I glanced at her glistening pussy spasming and clenching around me almost as if she is trying to keep my cum inside her. At this point I wouldn’t mind.

Seeing her pregnant with my seed growing inside her make my heart flutter but it also made my cock harder.

I began to snap my hips harshly against her ass not missing a beat, the grip I had on her bed caused it to bang loudly against the wood wall. I knew at least one person could hear us from outside I didn’t care I just wanted to see her cum on me again. Her breast were bouncing against her thighs, her eyes were rolled back, drool was falling from the side of her mouth.

Fuck I can cum just by looking at her face.

Y/N started to bite her own arm, which made me know she was about to cum. It’s so cute how she bites so much when she is so close. I slowed down just enough to kiss her. She loved kissing as she was reaching her high too. I massaged and pinched her sensitive nipples while she cried out. Feeling her twitch all over me made me cry out too. I never had a better orgasm before in my entire life.

Maybe that 2 year break was needed because that was probably the best sex I’ve ever had with her.

Once we settled down she started to let out airy laughs looking at my sweaty pink face peppering me in kisses.

“You good, baby?”

This girl’s voice is ganna drive me insane.

“I’m amazing. You’re amazing!” I melted in her touch before she buried me in her soft rounded chest. I couldn’t help myself I did latch onto her nipple sucking it a bit as she massaged my sweaty hair.

“Mmmm.” She sighed pecking me pushing me in closer, after a few seconds i let her nipple slip out of my lips and kissed my way up to hers.

“I know you Gatta get up in a second, but I’m glad to be with you again…I love you, baby.” She wiped my wet cheeks.

“I am too…I love you more, my love.”

I was going to get up, but just a few more minutes of being in her embrace …

It felt like home again being in her arms.

[whiskeynwriting]

Happy To See You

Agent Daddy Whiskey x Reader

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Daddycember Masterlist

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Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) flirting, dirty talk, daddy kink (what’s new), degradation (he calls you a slut which again is just facts), cockwarming, public sex, vaginal sex.

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A/N: yeah this was hot and way too fun to write lolol

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Agent Daddy Whiskey Masterlist

Join My Taglist!

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“Goddamn honey,” Jack sighs, strolling into the room and immediately wrapping you in his arms. “You didn’t have to dress up for this; we’re only going to their house.”

“What do you mean?” you giggle, looking at yourself in the mirror. “I’m not even dressed up.”

Jack follows your gaze, his eyes staring back at your reflection before trailing down over your body. You really weren’t dressed up; you were just wearing a pair of black yoga pants, a white crop-top, with your hair hanging down on your shoulders.

“I know,” he mumbles, turning to the side to brush some hair away from your neck. “But I expected you to wear a jacket, maybe even a hoodie, but this…”

“Jack,” you roll your eyes, trying to keep your bashful smile at bay.

“Are you tryna tease me tonight?” he murmurs, smiling against your ear when he leans in to kiss your skin.

“Shut up!” you laugh, rolling your eyes and lightly shoving him away.

When he doesn’t respond, you turn around, immediately met with his hungry gaze as he takes in the view of your ass in your leggings. He crosses his arms, one hand rubbing the outline of his beautiful jaw while he continues to stare.

“Jack.” You state once again, putting your hands on your hips. You huff out an unamused laugh. “You look at me like I’m some kind of god.” You express, gesturing to yourself with one hand.

“Well now,” he drawls, walking up to you with his arms spread. “I knew this place felt like heaven on earth.”

Any time you wore something that showed a little bit of skin, Jack went wild. Hell, any time you wore anything, Jack went wild. But it’s more than obvious that he likes when you show a little bit of skin, especially when you went out.

“You ready, darlin’?” Jacks asks, glancing at the watch on his wrist. “We should probably get goin’.”

“I’m ready,” you chime, smiling happily while walking out of your shared room.

You decided to bring along one of Jack’s old hoodies, one that was from his days in the army. He grins at the sight, his pride always shining bright when he saw you in his clothes. He then looped an arm around your side, bringing you in for a quick peck before ushering you out the door.

 “Did you guys redecorate?!” you exclaim, gawking at the beautiful landscape.

“Yeah!” Jess replies, leaning in for a hug. “Just got it done over the weekend, just in time for the holidays!”

“It looks gorgeous!” you continue on, expressing your adoration for the surrounding greenery. “T didn’t do any of the work?” you tease.

Tequila walks over with a playful grin, pulling you into a hug while drawling out, “Hey now, if I had a little bit of help, maybe I could’ve gotten it done.”

When he pulls away, he flashes Jack a sarcastic smile. “Too bad someone’s outlived his glory days.”

Jack finds it humorous, of course, and laughs it off while giving his friend a pat on the back. You assumed from the many previous times the four of you had gotten together, that Jack and his colleague would wander off to shoot or drink, but to your surprise, they stick around.

“I always have to drag him out here.” Jessica complains, shooting her husband a quick glare while the two of you walk over to their outdoor bar further off to the side. “He always wants to spend time with his guns.”

You give her a thoughtful look, a kind smile and shrug. But inside, you smile. You’re thankful you don’t have to worry about that with Jack. To him, nothing was more interesting than you.

“C’mere, honey.” Jack calls out, causing you to look over your shoulder and meet his handsome smile.

He’s standing over by the fire pit, one arm stretched out towards you. He had been helping T light the pit while you and Jessica made the drinks, well, your drinks. The boys never drank anything that didn’t come straight out of the bottle. And now that you’re finished making your cocktail, you’re more than happy to join them. You make sure to grab Jack’s beer before following him over to the couch across from the one T and Jess were currently sitting on.

“Thank you, darlin’.” Jack grins, giving your cheek a warm kiss when you hand him his drink.

“’Course, baby.” You grin, placing your pointer finger beneath his chin when he pulls away to lead him back in for one more.

“I swear,” T laughs, “You two seem more like newlyweds each day.”

“Babe,” Jessica scolds, swatting his chest. “Don’t rush them.”

“No,” you giggle, sitting down on Jack’s lap as he wraps the two of you in a blanket. “It’s okay. I mean, it’s not like we haven’t talked about it.”

You shrug, glancing down at your partner. “Right?”

“’Course we have,” Jack smiles, taking a sip of his beer, those deep, brown eyes not once leaving yours.

The night continues on like this, the four of you discussing marriage and kids and the general direction you’d like your lives to go. You and Jack kept things simple; you communicated, and you were incredibly appreciative of that. Jack’s openness and honesty were only two of many reasons you felt blessed to have him in your life.

“You girls gonna hang around here while we’re gone?” Tequila asks, glancing at his wife.

You shrug, “We’ll probably go back and forth.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, pouting a bit. “You’ll be gone for so long this time around, it’s not like we’ll be able to have a sleepover for a couple days.”

“Yeah, why do you need to be gone for this long again?” you question, turning to Jack.

“The mission’s just further away this time, darlin’. That’s all.” he replies, his voice soft and reassuring. “I’ll be back for Christmas, honey. Don’t you worry.” 

You frown lightly, not at all looking forward to spending two weeks apart.

“Aw shit,” Tequila suddenly mutters, wiping his lip when he hears their dog bark. “Gotta go check on Badger.”

He immediately stands when he hears the pup’s cry, knowing he’s likely to shred up their carpet again if he isn’t let out. Jessica stands, too, not really having any other choice due to the fact that she was sitting on his lap. She rolls her eyes when she’s lightly shoved off, watching her husband jog after their new pet.

“Well, now that I’m up,” she laughs, turning to the two of you. “Do y’all need anything?”

“I think I’m okay,” you smile, still having about half of your drink left.

“I’ll take another if that’s okay,” Jack says, smiling as he lifts up his empty bottle.

“You got it.” she grins, striding off toward the house.

“You enjoyin’ yourself sweetheart?” Jack mumbles, pressing his smile to the inside of your neck.

“Hm,” you giggle, wiggling lightly in his lap while turning your head to give him a kiss. “Yes. Are you?”

“Absolutely.”

Suddenly, you narrow your eyes at him. And in return, he gives you a questioning look. 

“Do you have your pistol in your pocket? Or are you just happy to see me?” you joke, but Jack, well… he isn’t kidding.

“Maybe I do.” He replies, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Wait what?!” you nearly shout, widening your eyes. “Do you really?!”

Jack laughs loudly at your reaction, his strong hands pulling you back down to his lap. “No, baby doll, I don’t have my pistol.” He chuckles, rolling his eyes.

You scoff lightly at the gentle scare, settling back down into his lap.

“But I am happy to see you.

“Really?” you ask, smirking mischievously above him. “What was it this time?”

Jack sucks in a deep breath, his eyes staring deeply into yours while his hands begin caressing your curves.

“I don’t know, baby. Could be your beautiful ass pressin’ against me like that, could be your pretty little smile. Hell, it could just be the way you smell, sugar.”

You squeal lightly when he squeezes his arms around you to accentuate the word, his nose nuzzling against your throat.

“You smell delicious, angel. Daddy wants a taste.” Jack grumbles, his voice suddenly low as he presses a kiss to your throat.

His fingers slide down to your waist, slipping beneath the blankets and tugging at the top of your leggings.

“Babe, not here.” You whisper, your eyes darting around the still-empty yard.

“No?” he questions, amusement flooding his tone. “Then why are you lettin’ me take these off? Hm?”

You give him a weak glare, biting the corners of your mouth to keep your smile from growing. He’s right, you’re letting him; letting him do whatever he wants.

He slides your black leggings just past the arch of your ass, his thick digits gliding beneath your curves to slide your thin panties aside. Upon feeling your already slippery folds, he releases a quick breath.

“Seems like you’re happy to see me too, huh?” he teases, placing small kisses along your neck.

“Jack,” you mutter, moaning out when you feel him dip a finger inside.

“You slutty little thing,” he chuckles, biting into the flesh of your shoulder. “You’re soaked.”

“Mm…” you moan, closing your eyes as he wiggles the thick digit inside.

Your hips sway back against him, lightly rolling into his hand.

“Yeah, sugar.” He huffs out, glancing down at your body’s movements beneath the blanket. “You’re drivin’ me fuckin’ wild.” He hisses into your ear.

“You just can’t keep your legs closed around me, huh?”

“Baby…” you whine out, throwing your head back as you begin fully grinding into his hand.

“Uh-uh,” he tuts. “They’re gonna come back soon, sugar. And I wanna make sure I get inside you before they do.”

You moan lightly, fully relaxing back into him as he removes his finger to position you how he wants. You can feel the leather of his black jacket slide against you with ever movement, the slimness of the simple, white t-shirt allowing you to make out every muscle in his chest. He releases himself easily, lifting you carefully above his lap before placing you directly over him.

“Okay, sugar.” He whispers, moving his hand to your hip and giving you a light tap. “Come on down.”

You swallow, closing your eyes and leaning your head back as you slowly allow him inside. Jack’s other hand moves to your throat, gently laying over your skin so he can feel the tender hum that vibrates against his palm.

“Fuck,” you exhale, the word hardly higher than a whisper.

“Now,” he states, pushing more hair from your neck. “You’re gonna sit here for me, darlin’. You’re gonna sit just like this…”

Jack’s low hum rolls against your back as he situations the covers above you, wrapping your bodies in the blankets your friends had offered.

“Sit nice and still while you warm daddy’s cock, okay?”

“Mm-hm,” you nod, the sound a small but happy whine.

“Mmm, fuck.” He suddenly grunts out, feeling you pulsate around him. “Your pussy feels so fucking good on my cock, baby. You’re bein’ such a good girl.”

You smile at this, turning your head to press a warm, wet kiss to his lips, which he wholeheartedly accepts.

“My pretty little girl,” he sighs, smirking against your lips. The hand on your throat rises to your jaw, allowing him to angle your face in a way he can fully admire your grace.

“You naughty little thing.” He grins, biting his bottom lip before continuing. “How’s this feel, baby? How’s it feel to have daddy’s cock inside you right now?”

“Fuck,” you whimper, “I, I can’t –”

“Can’t what, sugar?”

“I can’t even describe how fucking good you feel.” You groan out, rolling your eyes back before closing them.

Jack chuckles at this, shifting slightly below you. He watches your eyes open once again as a small gasp slips past your lips at feeling him readjust. And all of a sudden, that gasp turns into a yelp when you hear your hosts return.

“You okay?” Jessica questions, laughing while raising an eyebrow in your direction.

“Yeah,” you shakily exhale, “You just scared me, is all.”

“Okay,” T chuckles, “Well, Jess thought it’d be a good idea to bring this guy up.” he says, holding up a screen projector. “Anybody feel like a movie?”

Tequila sets up the projector so it can be easily seen by the four of you once you turn in your seats. Jack sits with his back against the armrest of the sofa, continuing to hold you in his arms while he readjusts.

“Quit it,” you seethe, glaring back at him while he moves.

“What?” he quietly retorts, his handsome smile glowing brighter than ever. “Gotta make sure my girl is cozy.”

You clear your throat to distract from the small whine crawling past your lips, allowing yourself to rest back against Jack’s firm chest as the movie begins. You’re hoping this is all he wants, just to play with you here and there and claim you for himself until you’re back behind closed doors. But as usual, this isn’t all Jack has in mind.

The growing darkness gives Jack’s already inflated confidence room to grow. With his arms wrapped around you and the blankets shielding his movements from sight, he begins rolling his hips. He’s completely seated inside you, his tip occasionally pulsing with arousal whenever he feels you squeeze him tight.

“Jack,” you huff out, making sure to keep your voice low.

“Shh…” he coos into your ear, snaking one of his arms a bit lower on your waist. Jack then presses his lips to your ear, giving you a small kiss before whispering, “You need to stay quiet for daddy.”

Your body immediately tightens up once you feel him reach his destination, his fingers now rubbing idly over your covered clit.

“Can you hear how wet your pussy is, baby?” he murmurs to you while your friends laugh at a comedic scene.

You keep your eyes on the screen, a bright blush warming your cheeks upon hearing his teasing tone. Jack grunts lightly, his hips continuing to give you weak, shallow thrusts while he whispers filthy praises into your ear.

“You’re so wet, darlin’. Is that all ‘cause of me? Huh?”

“Yes,” you whisper, closing your eyes and biting your lip.

You glance over at Tequila and Jess, who are cuddled together on the couch across from the fire. There’s no way they can see you; it’s too dark and the flames are too high. And anyways, they’re too distracted by the movie to notice Jack’s torturous moves.

“Hm…” he purrs, the happy noises vibrating through his chest and into the muscles of your back. “That’s what I like to hear.”

Every word he says sends shivers through your body, the scruff along his jawline and upper lip tickling the sensitive skin along your shoulder, neck, and ear. It makes you feel so small and submissive, obedient even, sitting on Jack’s lap and letting him do whatever he wants to you, no matter where you are. He just can’t seem to get enough.

Jack’s right arm is pressed against the inside of the couch, allowing him to bring that hand up to his mouth without being seen by anyone else. Your body covers his small movements, especially when you turn your head to the side to watch. Your lips part in awe as you see him bring one single digit to his lips, sucking it inside and moaning lightly when he tastes your slick.

“You’re such a goddam tease.” You pout, clenching once more around him.

Jack smiles against his finger, continuing to stuff his mouth full. It makes you throb around him, around the incredible stretch you’ve been forced to make from his girthy intrusion. While he sucks and licks on his right digit, his other hand stays over your sex. Gently, slowly, he rubs you, sliding his fingers over your covered sex until he slips them past the thin fabric of your panties.

“Good girl,” he sighs out, stopping the motion of his hips completely. “Just sit here, honey. Just sit here and let daddy play.”

“Mm…” you choke out, stuttering a bit and grabbing your drink to stifle your moans.

You take a few languid sips, your eyes still on the screen but your mind entirely in another place. He keeps himself inside, not a single part of him moving other than the talented digits dancing over your sex. He’s drawing it out from you, drawing out the inner want you have that’s climbing to new heights.

“I can feel it, honey.” He boasts, “I can feel how needy you’re getting.”

“Daddy,” you whimper, turning your head towards him once again. “Please.”

“Not yet, baby. Daddy needs his little slut to be quiet for just a little bit longer. Okay? Can you do that for me?”

“Mm-hm,” you reply, nodding slowly and speaking quietly.

“Don’t you worry, darlin’. When we get home, I’m gonna fuckin’ wreck you.”

Thank you for reading <3

Part Two: Take You With Me

Daddy Whiskey Taglist: @takochansugoi @movievillainess721

General Taglist: @anaaaispunk @dihra-vesa @sweetangel0069 @coaaster @pepascalhoe @evyiione @bport76 @tanzthompson @littlemisspascal @mswarriorbabe80 @just-here-for-the-moment

[bt-writing]

Windblume Confession

Diluc x gn!Reader

A/N: i feel so bad posting this with inazuma and all the new content... no one cares abt the windblume festival rn its 2.0 lolol. i wrote this during the windblume festival and thought i’d also share it on here. windblume plot doesn’t really have that much to do with the story itself so its whatever

warnings: cringe... but none

SFW

word count: 1.3k

summary: You fall victim to venti's schemes and are now on your way to confess to Diluc.

"Oh, Barbatos, I can't do this. This was stupid to begin with."

Your heart felt tight in your chest as you walked. Clammy hands fiddled around a bouquet of freshly picked small lamp grass. The blue petals were illuminated in the moonlight that shined down on Mondstadt. Small lamp grass always had a gentle, refreshing floral scent when it was picked, but you did not feel refreshed in the slightest. In fact, you were more than ready to throw up.

The Windblume Festival in Mondstadt was the designated time of year for romantic endeavors and confessions to occur. It was a time of independence, freedom, and love for the city. You planned to spend this year enjoying the culture and activities offered, but the Archons seemed to have other divine plans for you instead. The Archon, Barbatos, to be specific.

In order to make some quick cash for alcohol, Venti had been offering romantic poetry lessons to the citizens wishing to convey their feelings to their sweetheart or lover-to-be. You had no intentions of partaking in the romantic side of the festival, but a certain Cavalry Captain had managed to get you involved. Venti wanted wine from Kaeya, who would procure it from Diluc. Kaeya was unsure if he would actually be able to get the "payment" from Diluc, so he snitched on your feelings for the bartender to Venti.

Venti saw your struggle as potential—for more wine, that is. He decided to kill two birds with one stone, and now you were on your way to confess your love to the Dawn Winery's tycoon himself. Of course, part of you was doing this willingly.

It's become almost painful to be around Diluc lately. Your thoughts always became distracted when you were around him, and you're unable to focus during work and commissions at times due to thinking about him. He sent butterflies swarming into your stomach just from meeting his eyes, and his fire wasn't needed to make your cheeks flare red from heat. It was embarrassing how much of a wreck he made you.

You figured that finally confessing your feelings to Diluc was for the best, and maybe this push from Venti was exactly what you needed to get over him. There really was no harm in confessing. Having a crush on someone was akin to complimenting them. It meant you respected and admired them as a person. The only down side to confessing was the chance of rejection, which could put a strain on your relationship with Diluc and make things tense. Diluc was known to have antisocial tendencies, so maybe he would feel too awkward every time he saw you and end up avoiding you entirely.

But, it was too late to let that wonderful pep talk steer you away from your destination himself. Diluc had walked out of the Angel's Share bar and locked the door. He turned around and found your eyes staring at his. It had obviously been a busy night at the bar, as Diluc only ever put his beautiful hair in a high ponytail on busy nights. The moon's soft luminescence served to highlight the light flush on his cheeks. Diluc's smile was gentle and warm as he raised a gloved hand to greet you.

That kind smile felt like an arrow being shot into your stomach, causing you to inhale sharply. There was no turning back now. You softly cradled the bouquet to your chest with one arm, and raised the other arm to return his greeting. Reluctantly, your legs slowly began to make their way towards him.

"What are you doing out this late, (Y/N)?" Diluc questioned. His eyes glanced over the bouquet you carried, but refrained from asking anything about it. You bit the inside of your cheek for a second, thinking about the words you would use to end your favorite friendship. You took in a deep breath.

"I came to talk to you about something, actually. Do you have a few minutes to spare? I know it's pretty late."

"I do. What do you need?" He stood looking down at you. Your body was hot and fidgety under his gaze. It wasn't even an option to continue looking at his expecting eyes, so you settled on giving your speech to his boots.

"Diluc... I know you're a busy man with a large burden put on your shoulders. I see how hard you work for the winery, and you're always so diligent." You nervously played with the parchment wrapping around the bouquet you held. "You take care of everything almost effortlessly, but I know you probably put a lot of stress on yourself to make it seem that way, and I really respect you for it. I respect how you treat your workers with kindness and put their needs above yours... You have such a kind heart to everyone, including me. For as long as I've known you, I've always seen you put others before yourself, like staying out late and putting yourself at risk for the sake of Mondstadt." You paused for a second to breathe deeply, the heavy silence quickly scaring you back into talking.

"I really do...think very highly of you." Your cheeks hurt from how hot they were. "But, the more I got to know you, I recognized other things about you. You have every reason to be cold and spiteful, yet you continue to have the most loving heart out of anyone I've met. You're selfless and brave, and you never expect anyone to thank you. Lately, I'm unable to focus around you anymore. Whenever I'm with you, I feel so giddy that I don't know what to do with myself. You make me feel so safe and happy, no matter where we are or what we're doing. With every moment I spend with you, Diluc, I just...

"I realize how in love with you I am!"

It was terribly quiet now, and your heart was beating so fast that you expected to start seeing dots any second. You had said your feelings to Diluc, and there was no going back. You expected an awkward cutoff at some point to save you from the embarrassment of an unreciprocating rejection, or at least a quick, curt response, but neither seemed to come. Some time had passed after your confession, so you decided to look up at Diluc's face.

When you met Diluc's scarlet eyes, you immediately saw the dark red blush that covered the poor man's surprised face. If you didn't feel that exact same heat on your own face, you probably would have thought it was the cutest thing in the entire world. Your own eyes stared into his bright red ones for what felt like an eternity, until he finally opened his mouth to respond. "You sure know how to catch me off-guard, (Y/N)." He chuckled softly, his words doing nothing to dismiss the rocks settling in your stomach. It felt like you would die if he didn't give you a proper response soon.

Diluc stepped towards you, quickly closing the distance between your bodies. He leaned down and brought his hand up to your hair, brushing it back. Soft lips pressed gently against your forehead and another hand moved to cup the side of your jaw. Your eyes went wide and your mouth opened slightly in surprise. Diluc removed his lips and stood up straight, taking your hand in his and tracing your knuckles with his thumb.

"I'm sorry I made you confess first, (Y/N)… I've shared your feelings for a long time. Hearing you say those words—I genuinely thought I was in a dream." His sweet laugh fell out of from his lips once again. This time, instead of making you feel heavy, you decided it was your new favorite sound—one that made you feel light and free. His laugh was the perfect sound for the Windblume Festival.

[haikyuucute]

Aaa I’m in love with your Alpha!Ushijima AU — could you possibly do a scenario where orange omega is blatantly being rebellious towards Ushijima and just won’t listen to him which ultimately results in her being put in her place?

Can be smutty or not!! Thanks so much for writing these it’s one of my favourite universes aaa 💜

Lolol if you give me the option to write smut, I’m ALWAYS gonna write smut😈. And np! It’s one of my fav au’s too so I’m happy to deliver❤️

A/N: For those of you who don’t know, this is a request based off my Omegaverse series “Untamable” which you can find on my masterlist!

Warnings: violence, mentions of blood, predator vs prey type smut, bondage, spanking, edging, choking, unprotected sex, creampie, D/s dynamics, brat taming.... I think that’s it, please let me know if I missed one!

Word Count: 2k (yeah... this one kinda got away from me)

-

Rebellious (Alpha!Ushijima x Omega!Reader)

Ushijima sat in the library where he was supposed to be studying, but instead had abandoned his work to rewatch the volleyball game playing on his phone.

“Um— Ushijima-san?”

He stopped, looking up at the small male omega that had interrupted him.

He raised an eyebrow, ”What?”

The omega jumped, Ushijima’s voice startling him, “I— sorry. But um, you’re mate? She’s the one that smells like citrus, right?”

Ushijima already felt the oncoming dread wash over him, ‘What did she do this time?’.

”Yes,” he said with a nod.

”Well uh- she’s kinda attacking one of my friends and  no one can get her off— n-not even any of the alphas that are there right now.”

Ushijima sweatdropped, “Show me where she is.”

-

It was a mess— this by far, had to be the worst fight he’d ever caught you in.

You were kneeling on the back of another omega, your hand pulling her head back by her hair, a bloody nose making her face messy, while you continued to shout at her to apologize for something or other.

Alphas, betas, and omegas stood around uselessly as they watched the scene in horror, many of them with their phones out recording everything.

Ushijima’s eyes widened in panic, ”Omega!” His voice boomed, catching everyone’s attention as he pushed past the crowd, “Get off her. Now.”

All the omegas in the crowd had grown silent at his alpha tone— all of them except you.

”Fuck off,” you spat back at him, before turning your attention back to the omega under you.

”Get off me!” She sobbed as fat tears rolled down her face, “It hurts!”

”Not until you fucking apologize,” you hissed back at her, tugging harshly on her hair and making her yelp.

The next second Ushijima’s arms were around you, but he couldn’t pull you off due to the grip you had on her hair.

”Let go of her,” He commanded.

”No!” You shrieked, “Not until she apologizes!”

He had no idea as to what had gotten into you— you had never acted this way before. Ever since you two became mates, it was difficult for you to not obey his commands. When he’d pull you from fights, you never resisted this much.

His eyes widened as a sharp pain spread throughout his wrist, and he looked down at you in complete shock.

You bit him.

Red trickled down his wrist as the metallic taste spread throughout your mouth.

”Let go of me Alpha.”

Oh? 

So that’s how you were going to act with him.

Ushijima was a patient man but this? 

This was out of the question.

If you thought you could get away with not listening to him, biting, and telling him what to do, you couldn’t have been more wrong.

The crowd watched with bated breath as a much more terrifying presence filled the hallway, his scent dominating every single persons’. 

He unwrapped an arm around your torso and weaved it into your hair and pulled back harshly, making you yelp. 

And that’s when he noticed how the pupils of your eyes were blown out.

You were feral.

”I’m going to tell you one more time, Omega. Let go.”

You clenched your jaw, stared straight in his eye, and tightened your grip, earning you another pained shout from her.

Reflexively, his hand reached out for your wrist, his painful grip immediately making you hiss and drop her hair.

He hadn’t wasted a second more before picking you up off the girl, with you kicking and screaming in his hold.

The omega immediately scrambled away, sobbing as she ran to the little male omega that had went to Ushijima in the first place.

Ushijima’s eyes landed on them, his hold tightening on your wriggling form, “I apologize for my Omegas behavior.”

With that he was heading down the hallway with you in his arms, everyone watching in stunned silence after the two of you.

Your scent was wild and he questioned why he hadn’t noticed you had gone feral earlier. And with your strong scent mixing with his pissed off one, it was enough to evacuate the entire dorm building.

The door slammed behind Ushijima as he had finally stepped into his dorm. He dropped you onto his bed and you immediately tried to get up and run away but he was on top of you and had you pinned within seconds.

“Behave yourself,” he hissed out.

”No— get off of me!” 

Your struggling was useless in his strong hold on you.

“You’re an omega. Behave like one or I’ll make you—“

”Then make me-“

You were roughly cut off by Ushijima flipping you onto your stomach, his hand firmly pushing you down as he untied his tie and you continued to struggle. 

Next he had been pulling at your hands, which were flailing about and he was tying them together behind your back.

”Let go-“

”No.”

His hands were on your hips, pulling you up harshly and he pushed your skirt back and pulled your panties down in one fluid motion, presenting you for him— if he was going to have to fuck you into submission, then so be it.

His jaw clenched and a low growl escaped his throat at the sight of how your pussy glistened. 

”You’re wet,” he spat, “Does making me mad turn you on this much?”

You bit down on your lip, continuing to struggle, refusing to give him the satisfaction of answering him. You tried working your wrists free of his tie but he had tied it too tight.

You heard the sound of him undoing his belt and before you knew it you felt the tip of his cock and he pushed forward roughly, painfully stretching you out, making a strangled noise escape your throat.

“No, no, no—“ you muttered, burying your face in the bedsheets beneath you.

”You’re feral,” he grunted, pulling his hips back and thrusting forward, jerking your entire body forward before finding a fast and forceful pace. “I’m not stopping until you submit.”

Ushijima was worried something like this would eventually happen. He’s heard of omegas going feral before— much rarer than alphas did, but still possible. He knew he’d have to force you to submit, otherwise you’d stay this way for god knows how long.

You sobbed into the sheets— it felt so fucking good, the pain more pleasurable than ever while you were in this state. But you didn’t want him to win, even though you had already lost this battle to dominate, you were stubborn and refused to admit it.

Ushijima was always quick to work you to your end, almost embarrassingly fast. But the drag of his cock felt so heavy and thick in you, hitting every sweet and sensitive spot that it was almost impossible not to have you creaming all over him every time the tip of his cock kissed your cervix.

Ushijima’s grip on your hips was bruising, but without it you would’ve collapsed onto the bed, already beginning to feel boneless. However, one of them let go, finding it’s way into your hair, yanking your head back up and out of the sheets.

He knew you were close as your pussy fluttered along his cock helplessly.

”Tell me,” he grunted in harsh pants of air, “Who do you belong to Omega.”

A broken whine left you, but you refused to answer.

You were so close to coming you could practically taste it, but it was suddenly and harshly ripped away from you as he completely pulled out of you.

You felt like you had been doused in cold water as you were filled with a sudden emptiness. “Fucking fuck,” you cried out.

His grip tightened in your hair, “Who do you belong to?” He reiterated.

”No one,” you seethed, though it came out more whiny than you would’ve hoped.

Ushijima’s jaw clenched tightly and he thrust forward again, completely sheathing himself in your drooling cunt, resuming the same brutal pace as before, listening to your choked out moans ring freely throughout the room along with the lewd wet noises between your legs.

He dropped the hand that was in your hair, watching as your front collapsed against the bed once more, only to bring his hand down on your ass in a sharp, painful spank that was deafening in the small dorm room.

Tears gathered in your eyes from the overwhelming amount of pain and pleasure blossoming throughout your entire being.

Once again it didn’t take long for you to come oh so close to cumming.

Another strike to your ass had the tears falling, “Who. Do you. Belong. To.” He asked once more.

”No o-o-one,” you stuttered out a cry, sounding much more weaker and smaller than before.

And once more he pulled out, completely ripping all pleasure away from you.

Choked cries tore through your throat, vision blurring with tears “YOU!” you screamed, “I b-belong to y-you Alpha—“

You were harshly cut off by your entire body being lifted up as he simultaneously pushed into you again. 

Your arms were uncomfortably pressed inbetween his chest and your back, but you put up no fight.

He gazed down at your face. Your pupils were normal— well, they were still blown but this time with lust. Your face was wet with tears and chin with drool.

You looked so fucked out and helpless, just to his liking.

But he wasn’t through with disciplining you and he wrapped a large hand around your throat, completely engulfing your neck as he forced you to look up at him.

”I’ve always been patient with you,” he grunted, as he fucked into you, the new angle making you keen, “So when I give you a command— you listen,” he said with a particularly harsh thrust, “Do you understand?”

You nodded as much as your could within his strong grip on your neck.

”Yes— ‘m sorry Alpha— I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you babbled.

”Then cum.”

A shrill scream ripped through your throat as your entire body tensed and you cried his name incoherently as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm.

A second later he was cumming as well, spilling inside you— some of his cum seeping out, making an even bigger mess between your legs.

He groaned as he came, his mouth claiming yours in a sloppy kiss— the gnashing of teeth and tongue making you feel even more lightheaded.

Your body eventually relaxed in his hold and you really did feel boneless now.

He gently lowered your limp body to the bed, before pulling out and making you whimper.

He eyed how his cum dripped from your cunt and you clenched at the feeling, a possessiveness blooming throughout his chest at the sight.

He untied your wrists, watching as they fell to the bed, and he finally moved from behind you to lay beside you. His hand pushing back the sweaty hair sticking to your face, to find the sweet submissive omega he was used to seeing in private.

”Why did you go feral Omega,” his voice was much softer than it had been before, and you sniffled as he pulled you against his chest. You immediately buried your face against his neck, letting his scent calm you as you clung onto his broad frame.

”She was mean to me and I couldn’t help it,” you mumbled softly against his skin, “‘m sorry.”

He wrapped his arms tightly around you, “What did she say to you.”

“...She told me I gave up all my principles for the first alpha that looked my way... and she made fun of that time I-I went into heat in the middle of class and everyone saw me be all submissive for you... a-a-and that other time that Beta pinned me in the hallway—“

”Shh Omega,” he shushed, stroking your hair to calm you down as you cried against his neck, “I’ll speak to her tomorrow.”

”’M sorry for biting you.”

”It will heal, but don’t do it again.” You nodded against his neck. “And the next time you get into a fight, you come to me, understood?”

”...understood, Alpha.”

-

Requests are open!

-

Taglist:

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[extratragic]

birthday girl

warning: blood, mentions of an injury. nothing graphic but the mc gets injured.

summary: Joel ends up taking care of you on your birthday

word count: 2.5k

a/n: i felt like i needed to post a sweet joel fic after the not so sweet thots i’ve had today :) anyway this is my first hockey fic so pls don’t be mean lol i’m sensitive. also i went through like six gifs cause i couldn’t decide on one lolol

Being with Joel was weird. Not a bad weird, but your relationship was difficult to explain. The quick version was that you were dating without the labels. That was your choice, though, not Joel's. If he had it his way, the two of you would be coming up on your eight-month anniversary.

You were the massage therapist for the Flyers. Well, the assistant massage therapist. It was more like being an intern, but you got paid. Becoming certified wasn't hard and it didn't take long, and it really did help that Martin Roza, the Flyers massage therapist, was a family friend. You’d been with the Flyers longer than Joel had been in the NHL, and you didn’t want a relationship to mess with your reputation. You were older than Joel by four months. Today was actually your twenty-second birthday, and Martin, along with the training staff, decided that your present was going to be you staying with them on the bench that night.

Everything was going great until halfway through the second period.

Travis was a few feet in front of the boards separating the guys from the ice, and one of the Buffalo players skated up to him. You couldn't tell who had the puck or where it was going until it hit you.

You didn't even process it until your hand was on your jaw and you were facing Martin. You could feel the blood on your palm.

"Tunnel, tunnel!" You said, stumbling over your feet as you tried getting away from the bench.

Raffa quickly put his arm around your shoulders and helped you walk away. You had to get out of Joel's sight, at least. He worried about you a lot and he wasn't shy about letting you know how much he hated seeing you hurt. When the two of you were out one night, someone bumped into you and made you fall, ending up with you scraping your knee. You were almost certain that if Claude wasn't there, Joel would've gone after the guy who accidentally caused the cut. As soon as you knew you were out of sight from fans and cameras, you stopped walking and took your hand off of your face.

"Oh my god, I'm bleeding!" You exclaimed, looking up at Raffa.

"Hold this to the cut, okay? That's a pretty good gash," he said, putting a towel on your face. You whined and held the towel, walking with him until the two of you were in the trainer's office.

“How bad does it hurt?” He asked.

“It hurts. Like, I can feel it but it’s not processing yet,” you told him.

The actual pain didn’t hit until you were sitting down.

“Fuck!” You yelled, pulling the towel away from your face.

"No, no. Keep the towel on your face until I'm ready to clean it. Do you wanna get blood all over your shirt?" He asked as he moved around, grabbing a few things from the cabinets and drawers.

"No," you whined, holding the towel to your jaw again. The white Gatorade towel was slowly being stained with your blood the longer you held it to your face. "Can you hurry up? This hurts," you snapped.

"Well, yeah. A puck hit your face at a high speed. It’s gonna hurt, but I’m gonna help,” he said.

You glared at him and he turned to face you, setting a few things on the table next to you. The next few minutes were silent as he cleaned your jaw and neck, eventually stitching the gash.

"How are you this bad with pain?" He asked.

"I message people. I don't do the whole injury thing," you sighed.

He hummed and nodded, feeling around your jaw, neck, and cheek. “I think you're good, just pretty bruised. Does it hurt to talk?” He asked.

“A little bit,” you answered. “I’m just happy you can move your jaw. And I don’t think you have a concussion. You can go to the hospital if you want to, but you seem okay,” he said once he took his hands away from your jaw.

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

“Of course. You wanna go back out or do you wanna stay in here?” He asked, taking his gloves off and throwing them away. “How much time is left?” You asked.

He held up his finger and walked out of the room, looking at one of the televisions in the hallway. “Three minutes until intermission,” he answered once he was back in the room.

“I’ll go out next period. I’m gonna stay here until then if that’s fine,” you said.

He nodded and grabbed a new pair of gloves, slipping them on. He left after telling you that he was going back to the bench. You leaned back in the padded chair and sighed, closing your eyes. You had no clue how the hell the guys went back to playing when they got a puck to the face. This hurt like hell.

Halfway through intermission, the door swung open and hit the wall loudly. The noise made you jump and nearly drop your phone. You looked at the door with wide eyes, seeing Joel looking at you.

“Oh. Hey, Bee,” you said nervously.

“‘Hey, Bee?’ Your face is bruised and that’s all you say?” He asked.

“Hey, Bee. I got hit in the face with a puck. I left 'cause I knew you’d freak out like you are right now. I’m fine, though. Nothing but a bruise, according to Raffa,” you told him.

After the last fifteen minutes of sitting by yourself and scrolling through social media, the pain had gone down some with the help of the pain pill Raffa gave you, and you were feeling pretty calm about the whole thing.

He huffed and walked over to you, getting down on his knees to cup the uninjured side of your jaw. “I didn’t think it hit anyone. But then I saw that you were gone and then Raffa was gone, and I was so fucking worried. I’m gonna beat the hell out of whoever did this,” he said and you gave him a small smile.

“Raffa said it was Teeks. you can’t beat up a dad-to-be,” you giggled.

Joel groaned and stood up, kissing your head before walking out. “Konecny!” he shouted. You stood up and walked out, watching as he walked over to Travis.

“Holy shit,” Nolan said.

“Shh. Joel’s attempting to be intimidating,” you told him.

The two of you, along with half of the locker room, watched as Joel scolded Travis for a few seconds until he started talking.

“You-- watch where you swing your stupid stick. That flying puck? It hit y/n,” he said.

Travis’s eyes went wide and he looked around the room until he saw you standing across from him.

“I’m fine,” you said, waving your hand to the side.

“You sure? That thing’s huge,” Nolan said and you glared at him.

"I’m fully aware. Thank you for pointing it out, Patty,” you said.

He cracked a smile and shrugged. While Nolan was smiling at you and you were glaring at him, Travis walked over to the two of you.

"I'm sorry, y/n. Is it bad? Like, did it do more damage than that?" He asked.

“It’s fine, Teeks. Seriously. It’s just a bruise and a few stitches. You didn’t mean to hit me,” you told him.

“It’s fine? Just like that?” Joel asked, looking at you with wide eyes.

You raised your eyebrows and looked up at him. “I told you that I’m fine, J. I need you to chill out. Travis would never purposely hurt me,” you told him.

He scrunched up his face and you grabbed his hand, pulling him closer to you to put your hands behind your back. Everyone knew about your relationship, and they stopped questioning it and giving the two of you looks after a few months.

"I’m good. Travis is fine,” you said quietly. He nodded and you looked at Travis. “I’m fine, I swear. Raffa said it’s just a bruise. No concussion, nothing broken. You don’t have to apologize,” you told him.

Nolan and Travis left you with Joel, but Claude and Kevin were quick to take their spots in front of you. They were both there to check on you and make sure you were okay, but Kevin was also there so he could talk shit on Travis. Joel went along with the shit-talking and you rolled your eyes, tugging on his hand. Once Kevin and Claude walked away, you pulled Joel out of the locker room so the two of you were alone.

“You’re sure that you’re fine?” He asked, gently holding your face in his hands.

You closed your eyes and smiled softly, nodding. "I’m okay, J. You have another 20 minutes of hockey to focus on, though,” you reminded him.

“You won’t be out there, right?” He asked.

“Of course I’ll be out there. You’re gonna kick ass and I gotta watch,” you told him.

Joel argued with you, of course, but he gave in when you pulled the birthday card on him. He loved spoiling you and hated telling you no, so it was easy to make him accept that you were going to watch the game from the bench. This time, though, you wouldn't be the one closest to the ice.

The Flyers ended up winning 4-1, and now Joel could finally get you to his apartment so he could be the one taking care of you.

"How about a bath?" Joel asked, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand as he drove towards his apartment.

"That sounds amazing. You have the stuff that I like, right?" You asked.

He smiled and nodded, making you smile. "Do you wanna eat?" He asked.

"Nothing that I have to chew a lot. I'll just snack on things, but you can make whatever," you told him.

Joel scoffed softly and squeezed your hand. As if he'd let you snack on things alone. Sure, he was hungry, but he would just snack on whatever he had in his apartment with you.

"I'm not eating a whole meal without you on your birthday. I'll snack with you. At least we had breakfast together," he said.

"Thank you, J," you said softly, bringing your hands to your lips and kissing the back of his hand.

"Always, baby," he said, kissing your knuckles.

When the two of you got to his apartment, Joel went straight to the bathroom to get the bath ready while you made smoothies for now and snacks for later.

"What are we eating?" Joel asked, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind.

"We're having smoothies while we're in the bath. You know that I hate eating in the bath," you said.

He chuckled and kissed your shoulder, watching as you put together two plates full of fruit and whatever food you felt like you could eat on one plate, putting the fruits and some different snacks on the other plate. It was obvious that Joel's plate was the second and he smiled when he realized that you weren't going to let him eat the same thing as you. If you were at Joel's place, he was never hungry. You even bought groceries sometimes since you were over there so much, and he eventually caught on to everything that you bought for him and for you, and he'd do the grocery runs when food was running low.

Once you finished making the plates, you put them in the fridge and went to the bathroom with Joel. While you stripped and got into the tub, Joel only took his shirt off.

"Aren't you getting in?" You asked, pouting at Joel when he turned to walk out.

"Give me a few minutes, okay? I'll be right back," he said, softly pecking your lips before leaving the bathroom.

He was gone for about five minutes before he walked into the bathroom and got into the bath with you. He sat behind you, happily letting you rest against his chest. The two of you sat in silence for a little bit, just soaking in the hot water together.

"Thanks for winning, by the way," you mumbled, playing with his fingers.

He kissed the crown of your head and hummed. "Good birthday?" He asked.

"Top five, easily. Would be top three but I got a puck to the face," you said and he chuckled.

You grinned and tilted your head back, puckering your lips. Joel leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. He kissed your cheek next, placing multiple kisses on your skin and over your bruise, careful to avoid the stitches. You giggled when he nuzzled his face in your neck and placed a few kisses there.

"Want me to wash your body?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. "I did that while you were gone. But I could wash yours," you offered.

"Oh, for sure. Switch me," he said, putting his hands on the sides of the tub.

You laughed and slid back, taking his spot after he got out of the tub and quickly climbed back in, laying back against your chest. You grabbed the soap and one of the washcloths, washing his upper body.

"Didn't you do this at the rink?" You asked.

"Like, a basic shower. This is so much better," he said.

You smiled and shook your head, kissing his shoulder when the soap was rinsed off. "Can I lay on you?" He asked. You didn't answer him verbally, choosing to pull him back instead. He sighed when he laid back on you, closing his eyes once his head was on your shoulder.

Once the smoothies were gone, the two of you got out of the bath. You went to get the plates from the fridge while Joel drained the water. You got to his room right before him, your eyes lighting up when you saw what he had done.

"Joel," you said softly, looking around his bedroom.

The soft blanket that was usually on his couch was on the side of the bed that you slept on, along with a heating pad and one of his many extremely soft pillows. Your pajamas- one of his shirts and a pair of boxers- were laid out on your side of the bed. There were two candles, ones that weren't usually in his room, on his nightstand and dresser. All of your skincare products were sitting in front of the mirror. Once you started spending more time at his place, he went out and bought everything that you had in your bathroom so you could have everything at his place, too.

Joel wrapped his arms around your waist, careful to not let your towel fall, and kissed your jaw, the side that wasn't bruised.

"Happy birthday, princess," he mumbled against your skin.

"I'm about to get down on one knee and propose," you said, making him laugh. 

“You'd have to be my girlfriend first, y/n," he said.

You leaned back against his chest and he kissed your cheek. "Will you be my boyfriend, Bee?" You asked. You could feel him grin against your skin.

"Always, y/n/n," he said softly.

“Good, now let’s eat. I’m starving.” 

[uwurakax]

another day ♡

pairing: oikawa x f!reader ♡

genre: angsty // exes // mutual pining ♡

summary: after the constant fighting and bubbling insecurities, you and oikawa both decide that breaking up is probably for the best. too bad that it wasn’t what either if you had wanted ♡

♡ read part one ‘save your tears’ here ♡

word count: 2k ♡

author’s note: super tired, i should be packing but im not lol, 4am gang ayyy. as always not proofread because i cannot stomach the idea of rereading what i wrote. this was what originally ‘save your tears’ was going to be, but part one got too long so haha. spoils of part one, so if you haven’t read it go ahead, or don’t lolol it could be read alone ig hurr hurr ♡

♡ (inspired by save your tears - the weeknd/ariana grande) ♡

At one point in time, you would’ve enjoyed an atmosphere like this; the blaring lights, pounding music, and even the heat radiating off warm bodies in a cramped space. It was much more enjoyable when you had the familiar, comforting presence of him.

Yes him: Oikawa Tōru. Also known as the the guy who broke your heart less than two months ago. You hadn’t seen him since the week after, finally being able to pick up everything and go. It was scary how silent it was between you two. The unit the both of you had made a home, your first home with him, just a little more barren. Just a little more bare.

Just a little more empty.

Once homely rooms were now plain. To anyone else, it could be called minimalistic or modern. Sleek if you were to exaggerate it. To the both of you however, it was just stone cold. A lifeless corpse. One poor imitation of what it once was.

And seeing it like this was almost enough to have your heart break for a second time. It was a physical representation of your relationship. The feelings of warmth, comfort, admiration, any and every word any literary body could ever akin to love was once found here. It was sad to see it gone, almost like it was never there. However if you looked past the surface you’d see all the small details of things that once occupied the room. The once full drawers now easily fitting clothes with plenty of room to spare. A countertop with products only to one half of the sink. The minuscule dust imprints left behind on the shelves that once housed your books.

The lingering smell of your perfume that was once so prominent.

You couldn’t tell, but Oikawa could. In the week you were gone, it slowly started to fade. The first night Oikawa was drowning in it. It clung to, what once was, your pillow and on the blanket. Choking and suffocating him with the sweet smell. He couldn’t bear to see the bed without you in it, and hated the God awful smell. Opening the window and facing away, he had a dreamless sleep that night.

And as the week passed, so did the scent of you.

He couldn’t explain why, but the moment he opened the door, his body felt at ease. His eyes blessed, even if you had those dark circles and slightly red eyes with unkempt hair. It was as if it was instinct to feel relief at being near you.

It was the longest few hours of Oikawa’s life that day, and somehow it was still just too short. Helping you gather your things, putting them into boxes and loading them into a tiny hired truck until eventually there was nothing left.

You were gone from the apartment, and now Oikawa’s life.

It was awkward the second time, saying goodbye. The finality of it all dawning on the both of you. You at least had this excuse to see each other once more. After this, there was nothing. No more reasons to come back, to call, message or even see each other again.

This was officially the last time you’d ever get to see Oikawa Tōru.

You’d both stood there for a few moments, only the wind against leaves and the occasional car offering any sort of background noise. Neither of you wanting or willing for this moment to end. Despite it all, it wasn’t hard to see that you both yearned for each other. Just how cruel it was that you couldn’t see it.

Oikawa kept your pillow close that night. The smell of you was so faint, he was sure that it wouldn’t be too long before it completely faded. As he held the plush item near his chest he couldn’t help but wonder what kind of life he could’ve had with you if he wasn’t so prideful? All the fantasies and white picket fences surged in his mind, and so he finally drifted off to sleep, thinking of you.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“Here”

You turned to see your best friend handing you a glass of, well you weren’t sure exactly but anything to dull your senses at this point was okay in your book. Yes, almost two months since your breakup and you were still so torn. It was what he wanted right? Your lives are better this way. You’re sure his is. He wouldn’t have to hear you “nag” as he so put it, and you didn’t have to feel the exhaustion resulting because of it.

It was better this way. You knew it. Oikawa knew it. Your friends and family knew it. Heck even the old ladies down the damn street knew it.

So why did it feel so shitty.

You downed the drink quickly, not wanting to go through the spiral of emotions you were sure you were going to experience. You’d deal with the pain and hangover tomorrow like the adult you were. For now you just wanted to dance till your feet hurt, and then drink until they stopped hurting. A quick descent into self destruction that you’re sure you’d regret.

Or maybe you wouldn’t.

The moment you turned your head to get back to the dance floor you locked eyed with him.

For a moment you stopped breathing. The music faded out quickly and the patrons of the club disappeared. Suddenly it was just you and him.

He looked good this time around, nothing like the last time you saw him. His perfectly fluffed and styled hair that was just so effortlessly Oikawa had become messy bed head. His bright chocolate eyes that twinkled just a little with mischief when he smirked had become sunken. His whole demeanour had completely drooped into a depressive state. It hurt to see.

He wasn’t like that now. He looked like how he had been before. No longer were the remnants of a heartbroken man. Oikawa Tōru had gone back to his charming self once again.

A cute girl with silky, long black hair approached him and just as quick as they went, everything came flooding back; the music, people and you found yourself being able to breathe again.

She touched his arm and laughed. The look in her eyes filled with the glimmer coyness. Her body language oozed with flirty persona. It was all too familial.

You should’ve guessed that he’d date again. It wasn’t like he couldn’t. The moment you both severed the relationship he had every right to do what he wanted. You did too. Sure you were seeing someone, but it wasn’t like that.

All too, touchy-feely.

It hurt to see, you weren’t going to lie. Seeing the way he touched her, held her, danced with her. For a good portion of the night you saw it. Seeing him be with her, the way he used to with you. No longer being the main character in his story; you were in the audience, watching.

You didn’t want to stay until the ending.

Without a word, you briskly brushed passed sweaty bodies, being bumped a few times before you finally made it to the door and opened it.

You walked a couple paces to the middle of the footpath, deeply inhaling the fresh air. It wasn’t suffocating anymore. You fumbled with your purse, reaching inside to pull out your phone. With the glow of neon lights emanating behind you, you saw a stray tear on the blackness of your screen.

Fuck, when did that happen?

You wiped it with the palm of your hand, and went to unlock your phone. As you prepared to send a text you heard the call of your voice.

“Tōr-Oikawa?”

He mentally winced at this, the formal tone of using his surname struck something inside. He didn’t like it, not at all. It wasn’t right, it felt strange.

“What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here? You followed me”

“Right... I guess I just wanted to see how you were, that’s all” he looked away, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. You softened at this. It just took you back to why you fell for him in the first place. The little things like this, that made you feel cared for and loved. Perhaps for a few minutes you could be delusional and pretend that Oikawa still cared for you.

“I’m fine, what about you? How is everything going?” Yikes. You cringed at how awkward you were being. You supposed that that’s how it was, not exactly friends and not complete strangers either.

“Yeah fine too...” he trailed off, and just like that you were brought back to that time before you left. Before the official goodbye. Not ready to end things just yet, but neither knowing what more to say.

Just for a little while, let me remember every trace, curve and detail.

You didn’t know what came over you, but soon enough you found yourself drawing closer to Oikawa. He looked at you with half lidded eyes, not daring to move a step, almost afraid if he did it would ruin this moment with you. Yes, it was selfish but...

You lifted your hand to cup his cheek, just like a memory from before. Using the pad of your thumb, you gently brushed over the soft skin. Ever so delicately, you traced down his jaw. The intimacy of your movements crossed a boundary between you. You knew it and he did too. You’d let yourselves be greedy though.

Oikawa raised his own hands to touch your face, perfectly ingraining it into his mind and body. His fingers slowly going over your features. He wouldn’t allow himself to forget any part of you.

It wasn’t long until you both wanted to overstep more.

The longing between you too great to try and stop. Eventually you both moved closer, faces and soul alike reaching for the other. Just a bit closer.

“Y/N?”

“Oikawa?”

You both frantically pulled away, heart racing now.

“Kageyama..”

“Tobio”

Oikawa tried to hide the venom in his voice, he really did, but when he saw Kageyama make his way beside you he couldn’t help but see red.

It didn’t seem like life was playing a very fair game.

“Oikawa are you alright?” He looked down at the petite girl beside him, now clinging to his arm. He threw on one of his brilliant smiles and told her it was okay.

“Are you cold? Here” Oikawa couldn’t keep up that smile for too long, not when he saw him putting his jacket around you. How you snuggled into the warmth. How it showed Oikawa that you were no longer his, and that you now found solace in another.

He couldn’t blame you, he knew that deep inside. He did the same, why shouldn’t you? It didn’t stop the burning hatred and envy he felt. The overwhelming sadness that enveloped him. All a heavy dump of emotions thrown on him within a few seconds.

You felt it too though. That girl hanging off his arm. Getting to parade around that Oikawa was hers. It was totally unreasonable to feel this way. You both ended things. It was mutual right? You would’ve told him and he would’ve told you if this breakup was a mistake right?

Right?

“Wanna go?” Kageyama whispered in your ear. You nodded.

“It was nice seeing you again T-Oikawa” you smiled sadly.

“You too Y/N...bye” you both turned away, walking in opposite directions. With every step, your heartache grew just a little more. Almost like your body needed to be near his, the memories it held being more truthful than your head could ever be.

Your heart, body and soul wanted Oikawa.

Your mind told you to let him go for his sake.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Hey Oikawa?”

“Yes Kageyama?”

“Hmm?”

“He was your ex right? Oikawa?”

“That girl back there, is she her? The ex?

“Yeah he was”

“Yeah, she was”

“Do you still love him?”

“Do you still love her?”

There was a pause and you both stopped, mulling the question over.

Did you still love each other? It wasn’t hard to tell, everyone knew the answer. Ask any stranger but...

“No”

..

...

..

You both lied.

[slasherbastard]

Brahms and

“I am damaged.”

(Gives me Heathers vibes lolol)

(gif credit: toloveakiwi)

Warnings: Angst. A lot of Angst, swearing, suicide mention Word count: 2112 Notes: I was this close to writing a bad ending with the manor burning down but I felt bad for Brahms in this one - ALSO if you read this before I edited the first paragraph I’m sorry for the confusion lmao

A fresh start was what you needed. You managed to get away from your family once you took a job across the country as an accountant but you got lost on what felt like a never ending road heading to the middle of nowhere. When you first discovered the Manor it was by accident. You’d been walking for who knows how long among roads surrounded by trees, scared you’d eventually end up trespassing onto someone’s property - but instead you found yourself outside big open gothic gates.

The sun was starting to set and you tried calling out to whoever might’ve been inside the house behind the black spiked fences for a good half hour before going against your morals and just going inside. That’s when you discovered a few odd things. You didn’t know whether to start on the fact that there was drying blood on the floor or the chalk-like substance beside it next to the broken glass belonging to the mirror on the wall, it was a lot to take in.

You assumed that whoever was in the house had decided to flee or maybe someone had broken in - not counting yourself - it was a bit much to think about considering the fact that you were tired as hell and just wanted to sleep. You saw some bunched up blankets and pillows on the couch just feet away from what looked like a legitimate crime scene and decided that sleeping would be a terrible idea, but you were so tired that once again your morals were abandoned as you passed out curled on the white couch cuddling up to the blanket.

That morning, you met the man in the porcelain mask.

You watched him with wide eyes and worried yourself with thoughts of him hurting you and the blood puddle from last night flashed like a ‘life before your eyes’ memory as you tried to imagine what this large figure could do to you - not sexually, although those thoughts were close behind. He got close and as much as the mask creeped you out and you prayed you were dreaming, he didn’t turn hostile, instead he just asked for your name in a high pitched child-like voice.

“Y-Y/N. I am so sorry if I intruded - do you live here? I was just getting ready to go if-”

“No. Stay.” Stay?

“I can explain, sir. I was just so tired and the gates were open and I just needed to-” You gripped your head as an ache hit, you couldn’t tell whether or not it was caused by your own rambling or if it was from the confusion of the events you’d witnessed and were witnessing.

The man - who you later found out was named Brahms - explained as little as you’d wanted. A doll and a list of rules, why? Who knows? Definitely not you, he just expected you to roll with it and so you did. You were a little scared of him so you decided to follow the rules if it meant keeping you alive.

Cut to a few weeks down the line. You’re still living in this gothic daydream of a house with a mysterious man who gave you Phantom of the Opera vibes, things were surprisingly going well for you. For example, you weren’t dead and as weird as it sounded, you and Brahms were now a thing.

Was it weird kissing porcelain lips rather than real ones? Yes. Was it weird falling asleep next to that face? Yes. Was it weird how he never took that damn mask off unless your eyes were covered? Yes. But you managed to deal with it.

When you said you wanted a fresh start this isn’t what you had in mind but weren’t really complaining at the same time. At last, you were happy. You always dreamed of living away from everyone in a cottage in the woods where your only responsibility was to bake bread and not worry about anything, and this was just as close as you were gonna get to that - a manor, where your only responsibility was to care for Brahms. He’s so mysterious, it makes you feel something that you couldn’t explain. But as weird and unexplainable as it truly was to you, you were still happy.

However, things started going sour after an incident that occurred after lunch one day. Brahms’ had woken up on the wrong side of the bed and he was constantly throwing tantrums over the smallest things. You’d just finished the dishes and Brahms was sulking around the dining room table shoving at the chairs and kicking the table legs every time he passed one.

You were growing sick of him and threw the dirty rag you were holding onto the counter and squawked at the older man. “Brahms! What is your problem?”

He stopped and looked up at you for a few seconds before a string of apologies fell out of your mouth, as genuine as they were they also seemed so shallow as you watched Brahms’ eyes. You weren’t standing close enough to see any twitches or expression in those eyes, but you did see what looked to be tears. It broke you.

That’s when Brahms started growing distant. Usually he loved being around you and lived and breathed you but now it just feels like the real Brahms is actually dead and haunting you. You thought It’d blow over in a few days - or in Brahms’ case, a few hours - but it didn’t. He continued to just linger like a ghost, you could feel him watching you but he’d never speak a word and if you tried to initiate a conversation with him he’d disappear.

He began spending more time in the walls and his side of the bed was now occupied by nothing, growing cold. His guilt from the other day was eating him alive and you weren’t actually sure if he’d been eating either since the meals you left him in the freezer stayed there. It worried you, but you couldn’t get through to him, which made you even more worried.

---

That night you heard a loud bang come from downstairs and quickly sat up, swinging your legs over your bed and onto the floor you pushed yourself up and ran for the bedroom door. You opened it then stopped before going back in to grab your phone, switching the phone’s light on then making your way downstairs as quickly as you could. Brahms was on the floor, the fridge was open, and the pot of spaghetti you made for dinner was now sprawled across the kitchen floor. Brahms looked up at you and you expected to see shame in his eyes, but they looked dead instead - Not as if he didn’t regret his mistake or that he didn’t care, but he just seemed dead inside.

You knelt down beside him and reached for him but before you could say his name he was up and running for the closest entrance to the walls. “BRAHMS!” You called after him but he didn’t stop, so you ran after him. Being in the walls for the first time was weird but all those feelings felt as if they were miles away while Brahms was racing through your mind even quicker, he seemed to be moving faster as if he were trying to get away from you. You continued calling after him until he turned a corner into his loft and stopped dead in the middle of the room. He didn’t turn to meet your eyes or talk, he just stood there with his back to you looking down at the floor.

You took a few seconds to watch him just in case he was planning on doing something but he didn’t, he just stood there. You tried to step forward and reach for him but your limbs stayed put, so you let out the breath you’d been holding in. “Brahms, please.” Your words were shaky as you tried not to cry. “I told you, I’m sorry for raising my voice at you. I didn’t-”

You stopped when Brahms slowly turned to you - a part of you was relieved that he’d finally stopped ignoring you - and said those three words. “I am damaged.”

Neither of you spoke as you tried to collect your words but you couldn’t find the right words. “What?”

“I am damaged.”

“No you’re not Brahms-”

“YES I AM!” He raised his voice and you took a few steps back, bumping into the wall. “I am a monster.”

You were very confused at this moment, you thought Brahms was mad at you for yelling at him but he was mad at himself? You took a step forward but he took a step back, purposefully trying to keep some distance between the two of you.

“I’m a monster.”

“Brahms you are not a monster. You are not damaged, you’re not bad.” You tried to convince him as he began rummaging through a box on the floor, you began biting down on your thumbnail softly as he picked up what looked to be a news article and shoved it into your chest with a slight bit of force.

You looked down and grabbed the newspaper as he went to let go and you began reading. “I killed her.”

You clicked your tongue as you tried to take in this new information, you were finally starting to realise why he held so much back from you, especially when it came to his past. Letting out a breath you looked up at the man. “This doesn’t change how I feel about you.” You were shocked by the words that came out of your mouth and shocked that you meant everything you’d said. You were standing right next to a murderer and you weren’t scared.

Without warning Brahms ripped off his mask before stepping up to you, just inches away from your face as he screamed “What about this! Huh? I am not who you fucking think I am! I am fucking dam-” He bit his lip and quickly turned around, putting the mask back on and trying to quieten his sobs. “Just go. Before I hurt you, too.” he said in a hushed, calmer voice that you almost didn’t hear.

“No.” Brahms turned to you, he was just as confused as you were. “What else have you done. What else are you hiding from me?” You weren’t angry, still a little upset, but not angry.

“You’ll leave me, just like they all did.”

“Brahms trust me, I’m not going anywhere. I’ve done bad things too.” You let out an awkward laugh in an attempt to try to lighten the mood but it clearly failed as you cleared your throat and tried to act like it didn’t happen. “Please. I just want you to be honest with me.”

He didn’t respond. Instead he took the mask off and wiped away the stray tears before they could fall. Brahms began to dive into his past, from the murder of his childhood friend to the most recent murder that took place the night you arrived. He answered all your questions and watched you, still worried you’d go against your promises and run but you didn’t. You just stood there and listened, you were glad he was finally being honest - in return you told him about your past and even though it wasn’t as gruesome as his he still listened. By the end of that conversation you felt closer to Brahms, it felt like a twisted version of couple’s therapy but it worked. Brahms was still very surprised at the fact that you stayed even after he admitted to his crimes, he felt a bit sympathetic for you even.

That night the two of you fell asleep next to each other, woke up together, ate breakfast together, it was the most inseparable the two of you had been in months. After last night you’d expected a bittersweet ending - you expected to be kicked out, even - but you were only closer to him, the strange man who once wore a mask of porcelain.

This is as good as your life is going to get, and you’re still happy.

[jjuzoir]

Random Kageyama Tobio HCS

Word Count: 1851

Warnings: just... me being in love with a m*n other than masumi 😔 also! these are my headcanons as in,,, what i personally i think he’d be like ‼️ also me projecting my ideal man into him (as if he wasn’t it already 😋)

A/N: i... i love tobio so much it’s literally unreal... i couldn’t wait for a request (i’m still working on the remaining 4 too lolol) so take me projecting my love for tobio >:(

— Kageyama normally wears loose fitting clothes or athletic-style clothing. His favorite go to outfits tends to be a loose tee, some loose pants with an obnoxious Nike logo he swears are super cool but look like two garbage bags sewed together, and running shoes. Throw a hoodie in there for colder weather, even then he still manages to look good.

— He takes very good care of his hair, like freaky good care, because of Miwa. Once she enrolled in cosmetology school and she saw Kageyama use the same baby shampoo from when they were kids she freaked out (if she’d been any later he’d start using 3-in-1) and chewed his ear off about hair care. His hair is super shiny and there’s literally no freeze, he uses nice smelling shampoo and conditioner too. Ugh, I love him.

— He has a very sensitive nose but it gets clogged easily so he doesn’t notice much unless it miraculously unclogs itself and he’s complaining about everything.

— “Eh! Hinata, why’d you smell like a fucking axe bottle?!” “Why does no one say anything about Tsukishima smelling like strawberries?” “Yamaguchi smells like... milk.” “Hah?! Sugawara smells bad-?!”

— He says he’s a picky eater to appear cool but as long as you don’t say what’s in the food he’ll down it. He’ll say he doesn’t like carrots but if you give him a salad with carrots he might even say “it’s the best salad he’s ever had”.

— He’s a hot sleeper, and not in the “oh he’s sexy” type of way. I’m talking, he’ll sweat buckets if he sleeps with anything other than a flimsy white t-shirt and his underwear.

— Might be me projecting my love for bunny teeth but he has bunny teeth, his front teeth are a bit bigger than average (not to the point it’s super noticeable but it’s still something Miwa teased him about), his aunties probably squeezed his cheeks and called him “baby bunny” when he was younger.

— He doesn’t go to sleep later than 9PM, he thinks if he does it’ll ruin his schedule (which it will) and fuck up his body - he’s seen Miwa screw up hers after she pulled a bunch of all nighters in her third year in high school and has been afraid since.

— The type to forget people were coming over and come out of his room shirtless asking for his clean underwear.

— His sister forced him to let her cut and style his hair which led to many questionable hairstyles. Tsukishima is genuinely so grateful to Miwa, especially when she was first starting - he’s got some pictures of Tobio with the shortest most embarrassing bangs ever saved in his phone in a file for blackmail if the need for it ever presented itself.

— Likes pissing people off on purpose sometimes, during one of the training camps he probably walked into the bath with socks on and was made fun of but out of spite he just… never took them off. Said he’d done it on purpose and all too. Tanaka cried out of fear for like a hot minute when he saw him standing under the shower with Iron Man socks on.

— He’s so petty too, if you make fun of him for messing up he’ll remember until you embarrass yourself to make fun of you. And when I say he remembers, I mean it - he can’t for his life remember when to use make and do in english but he remembers when Hinata made fun of him for wearing different socks back on their first year and yes he will bring it up on their second year when he did the same thing what are you going to do about it?

— Probably got scouted for a modeling agency once and began running away because he thought they were trying to kidnap him.

— If he had Tiktok… he would’ve gone viral after posting a video of him practicing, he posted for a while for fun and to flex on people that he was hot but then he saw a comment saying they wanted to drink his milk under a video of him drinking milk and he deleted his account, he can’t buy from that brand for a while.

— He’s got a video of a gorilla walking in two legs saved on his phone for when he’s feeling down and watches it whenever he’s not going well. People think he’s texting his S/O but no, he’s just watching a gorilla walk like minecraft Steve.

— He can’t pose for pictures to save his life, his default pose is an NPC stance with his arms stiffly hanging down and his eyes wide in surprise, don’t ask him to smile or else he will look like a serial killer.

— He’s got a bit of baby fat on his cheeks that won’t disappear no matter what. It’s become a pre-game ritual to pinch his cheeks. He’s also got dimples you can really only see when he smiles naturally but he doesn’t know and he’d get shy if he knew and try covering his face so don’t tell him, that’s a fact he told me so himself.

— Cannot dance to save his life. He’s so long (?) his limb control is non-existent, it appears in game and vanishes when he steps out of the court. He really just bounces on his heels and moves his arms like a t-rex, don’t ask more of him.

— Buys his clothes one size bigger just in case and Miwa teases him saying he’ll need them when he gets old and fat.

— Gets asked out often but always rejects, then has the audacity to complain he’s never dated anyone like he hasn’t turned down half of the school's population.

— Can’t sing. He’s got a nice speaking voice but ask him to sing and he’s out of tone, out of sync, out of breath, and out of the room in 5 seconds.

— Sugawara joked about having him singing as his alarm clock and Kageyama actually believed him, probably sent him a new recording as a gift after he annoyed him during practice.

— Surprisingly funny when he wants to but most jokes fly over people’s heads since he seems so serious most of the time, it annoys him to no end. Yachi still struggles differentiating when he is and isn’t joking because his tone literally doesn’t change at all and she doesn’t want to offend him.

— When he was younger he liked to collect rocks, not even the pretty ones he’d pick the most average, raggedy rocks off the ground and clean them up and tuck them to bed because he saw Miwa play with her barbies like that. Still owns his first rock, he named it “Johnson” after Dwayne Johnson, aka the rock (he’s had to explain it so many times he’s exhausted).

— Accidentally drank expired milk once and didn’t notice until his stomach began hurting and he thought he became lactose intolerant and he was inconsolable for days until he realized it had expired like a month ago - he went on a milk shopping spree and the milk sales that week saw a 20% rise from the last few months.

— Tobio had bad handwriting until he was in Junior High because his teachers couldn’t understand him and had him practice calligraphy, his handwriting is now one of the prettiest ones in the team and he’s the official inker of the VBC posters (as designated by Goddess Yachi Hitoka herself).

— His biggest fear for a long time was getting eaten by piranhas because he saw it happen so often in cartoon shows he genuinely thought it was going to be a bigger deal than it turned out to be but for like a solid 6 years of his life he avoided suspicions puddles just in case.

— Kageyama has a habit of rolling and unrolling his sleeves when he’s deep in thought, it soon made way to a habit of checking his wrist watch (he absolutely has a wrist watch, you cannot change my mind on that) but not actually reading it.

— His nails are very pretty, like most setters, he takes very good care of them. They’re filed down to a perfect length and he puts oils and creams, his hands in general are so nice. He takes a lot of pride in them, you know his cuticles are pushed back and trimmed and he could absolutely be a hand model. Kags’ hands are calloused, he’s a volleyball player of course they are, but it’s not to the extent of Ushijima or Daichi’s hands.

— Talking about hands, it’s probably one of his favorite features on people. He loves holding hands with his S/O and tracing the wrinkles in their palm, being able to interlock fingers with them and feel the bumps in them.

— Mumbles to himself when in thought too! Very nonsensical if you’re not informed on what he’s thinking about, if he’s thinking about you he’ll mumble your name or something like “pretty eyes”.

— Has a very healthy diet, like extremely healthy and thought out. He won’t eat anything too sugary or that could throw off his body, but he does have cheat days (which are rare but exist). He also doesn’t drink much soda or alcohol (once he’s of age).

— Things like smoking are a big no, he takes so much care of his body he wouldn’t even touch a cigarette or be near a smoking area, lowkey paranoid of ingesting the smoke too.

— When he’s older I can see him having a dog and a cat, the dog would be a big dog; if they stood on two paws it’d be the same height as you, he’d name or something like Tobias and think he was super clever and funny, the cat would probably a small cat he’d name Milk (it probably would be a black cat too but he does not care).

— Probably tried baby formula because he heard it was a substitute for breast milk. No further comments on this.

— I feel like he doesn’t listen to music, but if he had to choose something he’d pick instrumental music - not orchestral music or anything like that - but more of a chill, no deep meaning just guitar and piano track. I could see him listening to Shego Sekito or Joe Hisashi on occasion, he might even listen to some 2000’s pop if he wants something to pump him up during training (he works out to Brittney Spears’ “Womanizer”).

— A cuddle-bug when he’s sleepy, he’ll throw himself across his S/O and not move at all, he just wants to stay there and not move ever again (or at least until he’s not feeling like passing out). He’ll like to wrap himself around them and cuddle their neck, he’ll attach himself to their arm like it’s a lifeline.

— In other words, Kageyama Tobio… b-boyfriend material.

[fockfjdkfncnfn]

Quite the ride | Luke Hemmings smut

summary: it’s a normal day and you didn’t have much plans except for dropping off some overdue books at the library. on the way, you decide to stop by at a cafe and you meet Luke there for the first time. you hit it off really well and on a cute date with him to a carnival and then things escalate.

warnings: unprotected sex, sex on the first date, oral uhmmm yeaaaa

requested: YES!! this is my first request from one of my friends i’ve just made here on tumblr! <3 their @ is @lukeshemmo. they write too so go check their stuff out!

word count: 3125

A/N: hiii!! thank y’all so much for 36 notes on my first smut!!!! i was really shocked to see so many people had read it and liked and tevloghed and stuff so thank you so much and i hope you enjoy this one <3 remember, requests are open to feel free to leave some!

ps. the book/cafe names i used in this are random ones that i just found in google lolol okay enjoy!

——————————————————————————

It was a chilly winter morning and you were woken up by the sounds of your bed creaking as you were rolling over. You fluttered your eyes open and looked out the window to see the frost on the corners of your windows and the slightest bit of sunlight shining through the tree branches outside. “So cold” you whispered to yourself as you reached your arm out from under your warm blanket to grab your phone. as you took the charger out from your phone, you saw the screen light up, showing a reminder you had set for yourself the night before so that you could see it first thing in the morning. “Return books to the library,” it said. annoyed, you groaned and set your phone down beside you. You secretly wanted to stay in bed all day because of how chilly it was, but you knew that if you didn’t take the books back today you’d have to pay for it. 

With that thought in mind, you sat up and stretched your arms above your head and planted your feet on your cold hardwood floors, and made your way into the kitchen. You wanted to have a quick and simple breakfast since you weren’t feeling too hungry, so you settled on a bowl of cereal. 

you grabbed out a white bowl and poured your cereal and milk into it, thinking about what else you could do for the rest of the day after returning the books. You sat down at your kitchen island and started to eat. as you were eating, you scrolled through Instagram on your phone and an ad caught your attention. 

“Groundup cafe! grand opening happening today downtown! Come visit and enjoy some fresh, deliciously made coffee”

“That sounds interesting,” you thought to yourself as you ate another spoonful of cereal. You did some more research to see where the cafe was located and noticed that it was only a couple of minutes away from the library you were going to. “Maybe I’ll go after'' you thought to yourself as you finished the last of your cereal and put the bowl in the sink. 

You made your way into the bathroom and took a quick shower and brushed your teeth. You wrapped your hair up in a towel and one around your body then walked out to go to your closet. “Hmm what should I wear?’ You thought to yourself. Outside it was lightly snowing, so you decided that layering up would be a good idea. You decided to wear some cream white corduroy jeans, a black turtleneck and a short black puffer jacket with some high top docs. For makeup, you didn’t wanna go too heavy since it was a cold snowy day, so you just did some foundation and mascara. To finish the look off, you dipped your ring finger into a pot of tinted pink lip balm and spread it across your lips to give them some life, and used the residue left on your finger to spread on your cheeks to bring some color back into your face. You dried your hair and curled it, put on some earrings and you headed out the door with a tote bag that had the books in it. 

Since the cafe was on the way to the library, you decided to stop by there first and maybe get a drink since your hands were numb from the cold wind.

When you arrived, you put your hand out to grab the cold copper door handle and pushed it to make your way in. 

You were greeted with the smell of coffee and the sound of people talking amongst themselves, not to mention the noticeable temperature change in the atmosphere which was comforting. You went up to the counter and looked up to see what drinks they had on the menu. Your thoughts were interrupted when the barista started talking to you. 

“Hi! What can I get ya?” They said with a cheery smile on their face. 

You shifted your eyes slightly down to meet theirs and as you opened your mouth to respond, you suddenly got pushed, and then you felt hot coffee run down the arm of your jacket. “Fuck” you said with an annoyed tone. as you tried to use your other arm to wipe the coffee off of yourself,  You looked up to see who had rudely bumped into you, but your rage quickly melted away when you were met with the most beautiful pair of blue eyes. 

“I am so sorry,” he says with a sense of urgency in his voice. “I didn’t mean to, the person behind me was in a rush so I tried to move out the way and I accidentally bumped into you, let me go get some napkins for you and I'll buy you your drink,” he said as he quickly turned to get some napkins. 

as he was walking away, you couldn’t help but notice his beautiful golden curls and also how tall he was which was one of your biggest turn-ons. confused at what had just happened, you quickly turn to the barista and say “I’ll just have a peppermint mocha please” with a soft smile and you sit down at the nearest table. 

You see him walk towards you, drink and napkins in hand and a look of remorse on his face.

“I am so sorry for what happened back there,” he says as he gently places the drink in front of you and hands you the napkins. “Are you okay?” He asks 

“Yeah, I'm okay. Thank you” you say as you take the napkins from his hands and try to wipe the already dried coffee off of your sleeve. 

For a second it got a bit awkward because he was just standing there, but he gave you a little smile and glanced over to your bag which was open, putting on display the books you had in there. 

“Is that the east of Eden??” He says as his face lights up with excitement 

“Yea!!” You respond smiling and looking up at him. 

He quickly sits down at the empty chair across from you and you both start talking about the book. He asks questions like “what's your favorite chapter?”, “who’s your favorite character?”, “do you like the ending?” And before you could even catch each other's names, you both noticed that the cafe which was full when you first arrived was now empty, the only other people occupying the space being the workers cleaning up the machines and floors. 

“Woah, I didn’t even realize we had been talking for so long!” You say as you glance down at your phone to see the time. 

“Yeah me too” says with a soft laugh.

“What was your name by the way?” He says, looking at you with his bright blue eyes 

“Oh, its y/n” you say with a smile 

“Well, I'm Luke,” he says, playfully offering a hand out to you for a handshake. “Nice to meet you, beautiful”

After those words fell from his lips, you could feel butterflies swarming your stomach and blood rushing to your cheeks. 

“Nice to meet you,” you say giggling, taking his hand, and shaking it. 

His grip was strong but caring. You knew that it was crazy to feel such a strong connection to a person you had met only a couple of hours ago but when the workers informed you both that they were closing, you just didn’t want to leave. 

As you grabbed your bag and now empty coffee cup he stood up and asked,

“What are you doing tonight?’ 

It was like he read your mind and felt the connection too 

“Nothing” you quickly blurt out

“There's this carnival happening tonight just across town, would you maybe want to go?” He said hesitantly with a shaky voice 

“I'd love to!” you say, smiling up at him. 

You both walk out of the cafe and he leads you to his car. As you were approaching his it, you saw the library that you needed to go to. The whole reason why you left your house in the first place, but this was much more important, you thought to yourself. 

You hopped in his car and he drove the both of you to the carnival. It was dark now, still cold but not as windy and it wasn’t snowing anymore. You saw bright flashing neon lights, children running around with their families, and young couples going on their first dates. “what the hell am I doing,” you thought to yourself for a brief second. When he hopped out of the car, you watched as he made his way around to your side to open the door for you. As he did, you took the few seconds you had to yourself to process what was happening. You planned to go to the library today, met some random stranger who spilled coffee on you and now you’re going on a kinda date with him to this random carnival. “But how could I turn this down?” you thought to yourself “he’s my ideal type. I mean, he’s tall, handsome, has the most hair, we talked non stop for like four hours, it's hard to find a connection like that with anyo-'' your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the car door opening. 

“The carnival awaits” he says holding the door for you and offering you a hand to help you get out

“Thank you,” you say giggling, taking his hand, and stepping out of the car. 

The whole night was filled with laughter and youth as you both chaotically ran around the carnival like little kids and going on ride after ride. The connection between the two of you became stronger despite how little time you really had spent with each other. Everything was starting to quiet down and you both decided to finish the night off by going on the Ferris wheel. While waiting in the line, Luke turned to you and rest his hand on your shoulder 

“I'll be back, I'm just gonna.. go to the bathroom” he said in a suspicious tone, a grin displayed on his face. 

You didn’t think much of it and just waited in line till he got back. You had your hands behind your back, rocking back and forth from heel to toe smiling out of pure joy. You hadn’t felt this happy in a long time. 

When it was finally your turn to go on this Ferris wheel, Luke just got back in time and you both hopped in and looked at the sky as it started moving, bringing you both closer to the stars.

“I had a really great night tonight,” Luke says with a soft smile. 

“Me too” you say, returning the gratitude. 

You felt the butterflies emerge again as the ride stopped. you were now both at the top of the Ferris wheel and looking into each other's eyes. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asks with a soft and gentle tone 

Without any thought, you leaned in to connect your lips to his and as they did, you felt sparks going off in your heart. your hands gently cupped his jaw as his hands gently wrapped around your waist. as you break away from the kiss, you both look at each other for a second and giggle. 

“This is crazy” you say giggling, still cupping his face 

“I know,” he says laughing. He looks down and away for a second and his eyes shoot back up at you.

 “Would you possibly wanna come to my place?” He asks, looking at you with the eyes of a puppy 

“Sure” you say softly, smiling.

The Ferris wheel eventually started moving again and you slowly felt the grass under your feet again. He helps you out and instead of letting your hand go, he keeps it there, and your fingers intertwine. 

“Wait, before we go,” he says. “I have a surprise for you” 

Confused, you look at him with furrowed eyebrows. “A surprise?’ You say. 

He unties his fingers from yours and reaches around his back and pulls out a rose. 

“For you” he says 

You look at him, mouth slightly open realizing that when he was going to the “bathroom” he was really going to go buy you a rose. You stood there saying nothing because of how sweet this gesture was. He playfully turns around to see the flashing colourful lights. 

“The lights are interesting than this flower?” He says jokingly 

you laugh. “No!! I just, this is so sweet” you say. “Thank you” you say quietly as you take the rose from him.

“Of course y/n'' he says. You liked the way your name rolled off his tongue. It just sounded right. 

When you finally leave the carnival and make it to his house, he opens the door and moves aside so that you can walk in first. His house felt warm and welcoming, despite the fact that you had never been there before. 

“This is my home!” He says smiling as he shuts the door behind him. 

“It's beautiful” you say in admiration, looking around. 

“Not as much as you” he says as he walked towards you and wrapped his arms around your waist. His lips crashed onto yours and your hands wandered around his broad back. As you were making out, he picked you up so that your legs were wrapped around him and you giggled into the kiss as he carried you to his bedroom. Once he was there, he set you down gently onto his bed, using his arms to support you on the way down, and kissed your forehead once you had landed. 

“Is it okay if I take your shirt off?” He asked with a soft and loving voice 

“Of course” you say smiling, knowing what was about the unfold 

He started kissing your neck and making his way down to your breasts and you quickly unhooked your bra and tossed it to the side. He wrapped his lips around your left nipple while his hand cupped the other. You let out a small whimper at the feeling of his tongue swirling around your nipple. You felt his other hands move from your waist slowly down to your core, stopping just above your pussy as if to ask for permission. He looked down to see where his hand was and looked back up at you. you nodded, letting him know that this was something that you were okay with. 

He moved down so that his face was now in-between your legs and he unbuttoned your pants. You bucked your hips to help him pull them down along with your underwear, leaving you now completely exposed. 

“God you’re so beautiful” he whispered before diving in to eat you out

Your breath hitched as you felt his lips wrap around your clit and his tongue swirl around, making you become even wetter for him. 

“Ugh, right there” you moaned out as you tangled your fingers through his hair and moved your hips to match his movements. He moaned into you, making you feel the vibrations. 

He inserted a finger into you making you squirm in pleasure. 

“Fuck” you say as he pumps in and out of you. 

“I'm close” you say as you throw your head back onto the sheets. 

After he hears that, he stops, and before you can complain, he crashes his lips onto yours, forcing you to taste yourself. He moaned as he rubbed his bulge against your body. 

“You're such a tease,” you say with a grin as he breaks away from the kiss. 

he giggles and quickly takes off his shirt, along with his jeans and boxers exposing his length that was extremely hard. 

“Need a little help with that?” You say as you stand up and go on your tippy-toes to kiss him. You loved how tall he was compared to you. you watch as he sits down on the bed and you situate yourself between his legs and get on your knees. You lick a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip and he lets out a moan which makes you want him so bad. 

“Fuck it, just get on top of me” he says, lust-filled in his eyes as he looks at you with a hungry expression. 

You’re quick to follow his orders and stand up and get on the bed, your knees now on either side of his body. 

you lower yourself onto his length and you both moan out in pleasure. You start rocking back and forth feeling him inside of you. 

“Fuck y/n yes, don’t stop” Luke moans as he grabs your hips to help you move with him.

“Holy fuck” you moan out as you continue to move your hips faster. You start to lean forward, placing your hands on his chest and he bucks his hips up and down to pump into you. 

“Oh my god Luke” you moan shakily as he roughly thrusts into you, getting the perfect angle to hit your g spot. 

“Rub your clit for me baby” he moans and you do as you're told. 

The feeling starts to become overwhelming and you could feel your walls tightening around him. you felt your high coming and you knew that you were close. 

“I'm close Luke” you moan out breathlessly as you continue to rub your clit and feel Lukes long and thick length pump in and out of you. 

“Just hold on a little longer” he moaned out as he started to thrust into you even faster. 

He moved his hands from your hips to your back and flipped you over and pounded into you 

“Fuck Luke” you moaned with each thrust. He loved hearing his name fall from your lips.

“I can’t hold on much longer” you barely manage to say as you were trying not to cum before him 

“Cum with me beautiful”

That's all it took for you to let go. You moaned out his name, making it echo in the room. He came with you moaning out in pleasure and satisfaction. He sloppily thrust into you so that you could both ride out your highs and then flopped down next to you. 

Once you caught your breath, you turned to see his beautiful face and you reached your hand out to move a curl out of his face so that you could get a better view. 

“Out of all the rides we went on today, you were the best” you say giggling into his neck 

“It definitely was quite the ride” he says as he wrapped you in his arms.

[ppersonna]

pick your filter - pjm | m

mix the colors in the palette, pick your filter. which me do you want? the one to change your world, i'm your filter - filter, bts

↳ summary- You love turning Jimin on, and you’re desperate to make him punish you for it.  Jimin loves punishing you while you listen to his music.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 5.1k

↳ pairing- jimin x reader

↳ genre- smut, this is literally just smut, there’s 1% plot and it’s pornographic too, there’s some fluff at the end but i repeat it is still smut. there is no god in this chili’s tonight

↳ warnings- buckle up pals.  established relationship, explicit descriptions of sex, penetrative sex, oral sex (m/f receiving), BDSM themes, spanking, belt usage, dirty talk, derogatory names, pain kink, daddy kink, face-fucking lol, unprotected sex, slight impregnation kink but like not really they just wanna have a baby together and talk about it lol, jimin is filthy and i cannot portray him as anything but filthy but then he has like cute babie syndrome at the end.

↳ a/n- hi i feel maybe 1% shame in how fast i wrote this but whatever.  thank you to @carly-bean-blog for sending the prompt in!  i loved it and went from a planned drabble to 5k words lolol.  one day i’ll be less verbose 🥴🥴 plus enjoy and feel free to send in more requests or just a message to say hi bc as you can see i love talking. also RIP to the wine glass i broke while writing this fic because i hit my table to hard.  wine glass 2020-2020

Turning Park Jimin on was a delicious challenge for you.

When you first began dating, all it took was a ‘come over’ text, and he’d be there in 5 minutes flat regardless of the fact that he lived 15 minutes away.

Now, a few years and a marriage under your belt, it took a bit more.

That’s not to say he wasn’t the same insatiable man you met at university; even after all these years Jimin could easily go 3 or more rounds a night.

But really getting him riled up, getting him hard and wanting and desperate for you was another thing.  Sometimes, you just wanted him to come home and take you right against the kitchen counter, so turned on he couldn’t even make it to the bedroom.

You’re determined to win that challenge today.  

To be truthful, the day was terrible for you, and you were seeking release in the form of your husband dicking you down until you were speaking another language. You were desperate to let loose, push aside the emotional and tender sex that seemed to be more commonplace in the bedroom recently (and you enjoyed equally) but today you needed to be treated like an absolute harlot.

The idea rolled through your mind while you were busying yourself with housework, laundry and dishes.  Options of how to get your husband to take you on the floor, rip your clothes off, make you beg for more, simmered in your mind and made the low flame in your stomach burn.  Lingerie could do the trick, Jimin definitely liked to see you swathed in delicate lace or creamy satin.  You had a nice deep red set that was dying to be used and discarded on the floor.

It came to you as you set your speaker to play some music as you flicked around the house.  Jimin’s sweet voice filled the rooms, causing you to pause as shivers raked your spine.

His music.  There was always something Jimin loved about having his music on in the background of your sex that made him work harder on you, fuck you deeper.  Maybe it was narcissism at its finest, but who were you to complain if it benefitted both of you.

You discarded all thoughts of cleaning the rest of the house as you stalked towards your bedroom closet, gathering the red bustier and panty set, with matching garter belt and stocking clips.  You purchased it rather spur of the moment, a huge sale at your favorite boutique, and you wanted to save it for something special.

It appeared the special moment was now.

You took care to curl your hair, a gentle wave with not too much product.  Jimin loved to tug his fingers through your locks, and grip them in a ponytail as you sucked his cock.  Any product would unfortunately get in the way.  Makeup was minimal, a dash highlight on your cheeks and inner tear ducts, light pink lip stain on your lips.  Jimin had been the test subject of many a lipstick, as you determined to find the most blowjob-proof one.  Needless to say, none of the lipsticks were 100% solid, but it was the best time Jimin ever had as a test subject. You preferred to stick with the stains, easier cleanup for the both of you.

You complete the visual as you swap your grubby cleaning day clothes for blood red lace lingerie, smirking at yourself in the mirror.  The cups of the bra molded against you, encasing your tits perfectly.  Jimin would surely lose his mind.  The panties were simple lace, and you had the inkling that they would not remain intact tonight.   Jimin’s propensity for literally ripping your knickers right off you was legendary.  But that’s what you wanted, isn’t it?  You wanted your husband to be absolutely feral for you.

Step two of your plan was now underway as you slipped onto your bed, perfectly made now, and snapped sultry photos.  You ensured your cleavage and smooth legs were in the shot, a finger on the mouth.  You took a few more, exposing more and more of your body.

me 2:56 pm- hi babe what you up to?

mini 2:56 pm- baby!!!! Not much, just waiting for hobi to get back from lunch so we can practice this new choreo.  

Mini 2:57 pm- what about you? besides being the world’s cutest wife :)

Me: 2:57 pm- oh not too much. I did our laundry and cleaned up the house a little.  Now im just relaxing and missing my babe :(

Mini 2:57 pm- baby :( i’m sorry.  I should be home in a few hours okay! I’ll order in pasta from your favorite place to make up for it

Me 2:58 pm- well, i was sort of hoping you could make up for it but… i don’t want pasta

Mini 2:58 pm- you don’t? What do you want? Pizza?

Me 2:58 pm- [picture attached]

Me 2:58 pm- no, I want you to fuck me until I can’t see straight.

Mini 2:59 pm- oh fuck 

Mini 2:59 pm- baby you’re playing a dangerous game, teasing me like this.

You nearly had him, he was sniffing at the bait and soon he’d bite and you’d reel him in.  You sent the next picture, showcasing your tits with one cup pulled down, nipple on display.

me 3:00 pm- you mean this kind of game?

mini 3:00 pm- christ

mini 3:00 pm- fuck babe, you’re gonna make me pop a boner at dance practice.  You know I can’t come home for a few hours.

me 3:00 pm- hobi still gone?  Go to the bathroom and i’ll send you a video.

mini 3:01 pm- holy fuck asdskadj okay

Time for the pièce de résistance.  Ensuring the speakers blasted ‘Serendipity’, your husband’s full length solo, you clicked the record button and filmed your hand sliding down to your clothed core, rubbing over the mound with a rough hand.  You breathed heavily, sighed, mewled a bit.  

“Daddy,” you gasp. “Come home.”

You end it with a hand sneaking under the band and insertion of one finger.  Leave him not just wanting more, but rabid for it.  The video file is sent before you've even pulled your fingers from their spot resting on your clit.

Minutes passed, you were sure he was watching.  The man lived for your exhibitionism.  

mini 3:06 pm- you better have your hands behind your back and be on your knees when i get home, little one. In the middle of the bedroom floor. 

mini 3:06 pm- i want you to listen to the music and think about me fucking you.  Think about how i destroy your little cunt so good.

mini 3:07 pm- but don’t you dare touch yourself.  Your pussy is only mine to play with, you got that?

me 3:07 pm- yes daddy 

mini 3:07 pm- good.  I’ll be home soon.

Congratulations, you smirk to yourself in the mirror's reflection across from you.  You’ve won the grand prize.  Please make sure you collect your prize from the man with the raging boner.

You idly realize that Jimin hasn’t told you when he’ll be home.  You know that on any normal day he’d be home at 5:30.  But was he leaving early?  Could you chance it?  As much as you wanted to disobey and face his delicious punishment, he also could just as easily punish you by not letting you cum at all. And the chances of that type of discipline tonight was high; Jimin would surely make you pay for teasing him at work by exacting torturous ache the same to you.

You’re spinning the pros and cons of preparing yourself now or later, when you are given your hasty answer by the sound of keys jingling in the front door.  Your heart rate spikes dangerously, feeling like the muscle would force the blood out of your veins with the pressure.  

You squirm off the bed and descend to the floor on your knees, resting back on your heels, and holding your hands behind your back.  You lower your head to the floor, knowing Jimin loves it when you avoid eye contact until he tells you when and where to look.  

His footsteps are heavy, slow and torturous because you know that he knows that you’ll be on the very edge of your sanity.  The warmth in your belly is torched with tinder and starter and is flaring high.  Jimin’s simple presence, just like this, is enough to get you to an incredible high.  Nothing brings you to your knees faster than when he turns from your sweet, adorable and gentle husband into the sadistic and powerful dominating owner of your body and soul.

It takes 5 deep breaths from your belly before you hear Jimin enter the bedroom.  He’s not saying a single word, but you can hear his soft footsteps on the hardwood floor.  Your knees are aching at the pressure of the hard floor, but you ignore it. You’d ignore cauterizing wounds for the man hovering above you if he asked. 

You’re trembling, you notice.  Your thighs are quivering ever so slightly and the grasp on your hands behind you is weakening.  You grip harder, determined to maintain perfect correct form.

Jimin is frustratingly silent.  He walks around you, and you feel his eyes rove your body intently, as if looking for fault or reason to punish you.  He seems pleased when he finishes his rounds, standing right in front of you. 

“Look at me,” he states with authority, but his tone is gentle. 

You finally tilt your head up to gaze at your lover and nearly gasp at the sight.  Jimin is, on an average day, the most ethereally beautiful man you’ve ever seen.  Today, he looks as if he descended from heaven mere minutes previous.  His pink hair is pushed back, eyes darkened with desire, and wearing the tightest shirt you’ve ever seen, making his toned dancer’s body ripple under the cotton.  Tight sweats that leave nothing to the imagination about what he’s packing between his thighs sit low on his hips and you spot just a hint of his lower abdomen, the v line of his adonis belt, and you’re sure you’re drooling.

“Look at me,” he corrects, a smirk on his face.  Your eyes snap to his own again, and he winks at you. 

“Have you been a good girl for daddy?” He asks, and it feels like a loaded question.  

You play it coy.  “Yes, daddy.”

He stands still in front of you, hand stroking his face as he watches you.  His eyebrow arches.

“Are you sure? You have done nothing to upset Daddy? Nothing at all?” His voice becomes teasing, and the smirk on his features is sinister.

You bite your lip. “I sent Daddy a video of me, touching myself to his music.”

“That’s right, angel,” he murmurs and circles you again.  You feel like his prey before he comes in for the kill. “You made daddy leave practice early.  Don’t you think that’s not being a good girl?”

“No, I did wrong.”

“I’m glad you agree,” he murmurs.  “I’m gonna make you regret getting Daddy hard and horny at work.”

He places his hands on your shoulders and you shiver.  His hands are smooth, warm.  You love the way you feel the cold steel of his wedding ring pressed to your skin, a tangible expression of his love and loyalty.

“Stand up,” he directs.  You’re quick, thankful to be off stinging knees.  He lets his hands glide down your back to meet at your clasped hands, pulling them apart and turning you to face him.

He threads his fingers through your hair and pulls you close, sealing your lips to his.  His lips are soft and taste of chapstick, a hint of sweat, and something just so simply Jimin that is addictive.  He’s gentle and tender in the kiss, the kind of kiss a husband gives his wife.  It speaks miles beyond the simple action, and you chase it, revel in it, knowing it’s the last time he’ll be gentle tonight.  

He breaks from the kiss, touches your nose gently and winks.  It makes your heart flutter in your chest.

The control seeps back into his face; it's physically present in the tight gaze of his eyes and the coolness of his impassive features.  It’s a stark opposite of who just kissed you, and you’re breathless at the sudden change.  

“Gonna spank you with my belt, baby,” he murmurs.  A hand slaps hard against your ass, surprising you and making you squeak out loud.  “Lean over my desk like a good little slut.”

You obey immediately, jerking your body towards his grand oak desk. It’s gorgeous dark wood that matches the decor of your room perfectly and makes for a delicious spot for your sexual proclivities without being obvious.  As much as Jimin wanted a sex swing, you would not cave to that.

You bend to fold your body over the desk, gripping the edge and pushing your hips back to allow for more access to your husband.  The speaker system by your bed plays music, and you recognize the opening chords as one from his latest album with his six best friends. A smile slips to your face as the volume turns up, quiet enough you can talk, but loud enough it’s noticeable. His smooth, melodic voice is ringing through your bedroom and through your entire body. 

He stalks in behind you and rubs at your soft globes.

“Mmm, you look so pretty in this,” he compliments.  “You know I love seeing you in red.”

You turn your head to gaze at him, smiling.  “That’s why I bought it, Daddy.”

“Good little bitch,” he sighs.  

As expected, he rips the underwear from your body with one clean pull.  You’re always surprised by the action. He never gives warning.  Your eyes follow as the useless fabric soars towards the ground. 

“Much better.”

He moves away from you, walking towards the closet.  You train your eyes forward, keeping locked on the wall ahead of you, rather than staring.  Jimin tells you when and where to look and you follow that.

The gentle clinking noise of a belt buckle causes your pussy to quake.  You’ve been slowly moistening since you sent the first text, but you were now starting to drip as if you were overflowing.  By the end of the night, you’ll be drowning in it.

He’s behind you again as quick as he left and he rubs the leather belt against your bare behind. 

“What’s your word?” He asks, soothing at the skin with the device that will soon maar it.  Jimin is ever careful, checking on your mental and emotional safety as well as your physical, and ensured a safe word was in place each time.

“Red,” you assert.  He hums his approval and kisses your ass once, one quick little peck, before he lifts back up to standing.

“Count for me, little whore.”

The crack of the belt spanking your cheek electrifies you.  You feel as if every muscle in your body clenches as the sting vibrates through your buttocks and down to your core.  

“O-one!” You’re shouting, distracted by the pain in your ass to care about your pitch.

Crack. The next slap lands on the other cheek now, and you hiss at the pain.  It bites at your skin, and it soaks your pussy. 

“Two!”

He delivers the next straight in the center, hitting both cheeks and letting the sizzle melt its way to a pleasure that’s reverberating through your core.

“Three! Fuck!” you gasp. 

SMACK.  It’s the hardest yet and tears well up in your eyes at the initial whollop, before your hips are writhing and desperate for friction.

“Four!” You’re wailing and you know it makes your husband go even wilder.

“Stay still or I won’t let you cum for a month,” he grits.  Your hips stay put, knowing he’s a man of his word and not wanting to face his wrath.

He continues his barrage, and you’re counting out 15 strikes before he stops.  You’re sobbing, the pain and pleasure surging so forcefully through your veins that your cunt clenches around nothing and you’re dripping onto the wood of the desk.

His warm hands are soothing at the reddened flesh of your ass, the sensation stinging at first, but oozes away to a relaxing warmth against the punished skin.

“Good girl, baby,” he commends you, hands rubbing all over your flesh. “Took your punishment like such a good girl.”

You sniffle in reply and he pulls you up, making you stand on wobbly legs.  He twists you around and pecks your lips again, a reminder that Jimin, your husband, is still there and loves you more than he loves life itself.  It soothes you more than any salve could and it steels your resolve to continue.  It’s easy to submit and thrill at the loss of control when you trusted the master with your entire being.  

“Color?” He asks, checking in with you.

“Green,” you smile. 

He’s pleased with your answer.  He pulls away from you and pushes you towards the bed.

“Lay down on your back.  Head off the side.  I’m going to fuck your throat, and you will take it all.”

You’re giddy as you saunter to the bed and notice that Jimin is proud of the blooming red of your ass.  It’ll be a literal pain in the ass to sit tomorrow, but it’s worth all the doting and affection you’ll receive in return for being such a good girl for him.  The music has changed, another sensual track featuring your talented husband.  It sends shivers down you, straight to your core.

You maneuver your body to lie on the bed, grateful for the soft blanket on your burning ass, and tip your head off the bed.  Your mouth opens complacently and Jimin shoves his sweats down to reveal his hardened length.

You’re licking your lips like his dick is the finest meal money can buy, and he chuckles.  His left hand strokes it, shivering at the cold press of his wedding ring mixing with the heat of his hand. 

“You want my cock?” He asks.

You nod, captivated with the motion he strokes the shaft.  You almost forget to speak, but his harsh gaze is like a whip.

“Yes! Yes, I want your cock Daddy!”

“Tell me what you want to do to me,” he hums.

Well, this would be too easy.

“I want to suck you dry, let you fuck my throat so I can’t breathe.  I’ll let you cum down my throat and make my face so messy from cum and spit that it gets in my eyes and messes up my pretty makeup, daddy.”

His strokes have become faster, and he sucks in hard for air. “Such a filthy fucking mouth.”

You open said mouth again, letting your tongue hang out like a welcome sign to your throat.

He growls, it’s guttural, and it feels as if it’s positioned on your clit, vibrating the nub.  Your bliss is cut short as he drives his thick dick into your mouth and directly to the back of your throat, leaving you no time to prepare.  You whine slightly around it, and he tsks.

“Don’t you fucking dare whine.  Take it all,” he sounds ruthless and your pussy quakes.

He sets a punishing pace, the tip of his dick ramming through your throat.  It doesn’t take long for it to become messy, saliva trickling from your mouth, falling towards your eyes due to the angle of your supine head.  Jimin sounds angelic, the moans that leave the dancer’s body should be recorded and played for an audience, you think.  You’d suffer through hours of this for the reward of his sweet voice crying out your name.

“Fuck, my little cock slut loves it when I fuck her throat, hmm,” he asks, breathy and harsh.  You nod as much as you can.

“Yeah, that’s right.  You love daddy’s cock, don’t you? You love it when I fucking choke the shit out of you with my fat cock, huh?”

The voice of an angel with the words of the devil himself.  The duality is intoxicating and you are head over heels for both Jimin’s inside of him, every aspect of the man you pledged your life to.

“Mmm, you suck me so good,” he’s groping at your tits through the fabric of your bra.  You’re surprised that it’s still on, but you trust he’s aware and always has a plan.  

“Are you crying, baby?” He asks mockingly.  Tears and saliva mix and your face is completely ruined by it.  You nod again and blink.  “Good, fucking choke on it.” he goes even faster and you’re moaning.  It hurts and the gag reflex is there, but the pain gets you off, and you know the second it became too much, your husband would stop in an instant.  

“Little sluts get their face fucked when they disobey daddy,” he chides, emphasising each word with a thrust.  

It’s as if you’re desperate for his orgasm, wanting nothing more than to swallow every ounce of what he spills into you, clean him up and ask for more.  He won’t have that tonight, it seems, as he’s pulling out of you as quickly as he entered.

“I want to cum in this tight little cunt,” he bites.  You slither up from your position and wipe at your eyes, resting against the pillow after he orders you to remove the bustier.  He asks that you leave the belt and stockings on, however. 

“Spread those pretty thighs for me, baby,” he’s discarded his shirt and is sitting ahead of you, watching you.  His gaze turns you on and opens you up like a flower.

Your thighs are spread far and you lean back further onto the pillows to put the star of the show on display.  You’re coated with your slick; it’s slathered up and down your thighs and dripping onto the duvet below you.  He breathes out in appreciation.

“I think my favorite thing about you is how fucking wet you get for me.”  He’s still not moving and you want to beg him to touch you, please do something, but refrain.  “You feel like a fucking dream when I’m inside you.”

“B-baby,” you break character and freeze, but he ignores it and allows you to continue as you sigh with relief. “I need you.”

“Do you now?” he banters, and you nod with wide, needy eyes.

“Touch yourself for me, then.  Show me how badly you want daddy’s cock in you.”

A hand flies to your cunt in record time and you’re desperately eager to spread the lips of your folds apart and rub at your slick and swollen clit.  A breathy, heady moan escapes you at the friction you’ve been aching for since you sent the sexy photo hours ago. 

“Fuck!” you shout, circling the bud.  Jimin’s eyes are glued to your hands, and he watches with awe. 

“Finger yourself,” he demands and you’re obeying before he’s even finished speaking, two fingers slipping down to enter your channel.  You arch off the bed and grip a breast in your other hand, flicking at the nipple for extra sensation.  

He coos at you as you fuck yourself with wild abandon, gasping his name as you slip deeper with each thrust.  

“Add another.”  His voice maintains its even quality, maintained and cool.  But if you opened your eyes, you’d see that he’s salivating at the sight, desperately restraining himself.  His cock is weeping pre-cum and he could explode in an instant watching this too long.

Your ring finger slips in with the other two and you’re keening at the stretch.  The pain is gone in a flash, just a pinch that simmers to a desperate pleasure.  

“You look so fucking good, baby,” he breaks his composure, momentarily.  He’s so in love with you, every single fucking bit, that he can’t help it.  “God, you’re beautiful.”

His words have you blushing, as if they’re the most lewd part of the evening and not the fact you’re fingering yourself in front of your husband while he watches and orders you around.

“Rub your clit with your other hand, love.”

The pressure of your added hand on your clit and the fingers thrusting into you has you soaring to your high and your throat chokes on the air.  “O-oohhh fuckkk!” You whine.

“You close, baby?  You gonna cum on those cute little fingers and get them messy for daddy?” He asks, voice violently serene.

“Y-yes! Please, I want to cum,” you beg.  You know the rules, he tells you where and when your body receives its pleasure.

“You wanna cum?” He asks again, and you feel a spike of irritation.  He’s already asked you that, haven’t you already answered?

“So badly, daddy! Please! C-close.” Words are escaping your mental capacity now.  You’re there, nearly there, just one little tiny string holding you back from the edge of euphoria.

“Too bad.”  

Your fingers are pulled from your cunt quickly and you’re crying.  Tears are forming in your eyes as you feel an ache deep to your womb.  You had been so close, so deliciously close.  Jimin knows this, thrills at watching you edge further and further through the night.  You won’t admit it at the moment, it’s pure torture then, but the buildup to the finale is indescribable.

“You don’t get to fucking cum until I tell you to cum.  Do you understand me?”

“Yes, yes! Yes, Daddy,” you babble, nearly incoherent from arousal and denial. 

He makes you writhe there, pussy so slick its soaking the blankets and you’ll have to change them later but the only thing you think about is your cunt, your weeping cunt that’s screaming to release. 

You feel your breath slowing and know that Jimin wants you to come back down to earth before he’ll bring you up again.

“Good fucking girl,” he kisses your belly, licking at the navel.  He whispers quiet words of adoration as he trails down your abdomen and end at the top of your mound.  Your legs are shaking, no, they’re nearly convulsing from need.

He spreads your folds, and it’s pornographic the way he spits on your pussy, as if it needs any more wetness.  It’s not about the wetness, though, and you know it.  It’s about the message, the ownership.  

“My favorite little fuck toy,” he murmurs, lightly tracing everywhere but the bud throbbing with need for friction.  “I can’t wait to cum inside this little pussy tonight.  Gonna flood your whole fucking cunt, babe.”

Jimin knows the way to your heart, and the way to your orgasms is through his words.  Gentle whispered ‘i love you’s’ in the day and disgusting filth at night.  It’s just another reason in a list of a million why you work so well together. 

“Should we get you nice and pregnant tonight?  You want to make a baby?”  

You nearly sob at his words.  He can fuck you harder with his words than his cock.

“Please!” You’re yelling, tears streaming down your face. “P-please! I want your baby.”

He leans down and smiles for a moment before speaking. “Well, my little wife will always get what she wants when she asks so nicely.”  His lips attach to your clit, suctioning it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it.  It’s swollen and slick, and it feels like fucking heaven.  His plushy lips are working for it, taking you so desperately close to the edge.  

You’re gasping a symposium of his name and praising the ground he walks on.  You’re sure if you died now you’d die a very fucking happy woman.  The world around you is gone, and it’s just Jimin’s sinful mouth suckling at your cunt.

You’re close again, and Jimin knows it.  You’re begging, pleading with him, but it’s useless as he roughly pulls away.

The music continues on in the background.  It’s lighter, and Jimin croons in the speaker as he grunts in your ear.

He muffles your anguished cry with a messy kiss that tastes of you, and he’s thrusting into you.  The slickness guides him in easily and he’s whining against you at the feel of your walls accept him and hugging him tightly as if they’ve missed his cock swelling within them.

“JIMIN!” You’re seeing fireworks as your husband fucks into you, holding you close to him.  It’s as rough and kinky as it is intimate and sweet.  He holds you, cherishes you, while he’s pistoning his thick member into your loud, drenched cunt.  

“I love you,” he whispers, slipping a thumb into your mouth that you suck at eagerly, as skilled with his fingers as you are with his cock.  “I love you so fucking much.”

His eyes align with yours, yours full of tears of absolute unrivaled pleasure, and his with full and never-ending devotion. 

You’re both so close, and you pull him against you to kiss his lips.  You want to connect completely to him as you cum, as he spills into your womb and creates something, someone there. 

Your cunt flutters intensely, quaking in anticipation as it builds and builds and builds.  Jimin breaks the kiss to breathe and warn you, “I’m going to cum soon, baby, please cum with me.”  He’s gentle and sweet, the Jimin who cries at love stories and wears flower crowns now present inside you.  You nod quickly, gasping as the coil winds tighter and tighter.  

Your kissing is messy, passionate, and your hands grasp him everywhere.  You’re tugging at his toned arms and solid back, seeking refuge as the tidal wave grows impossibly high, higher, so so high,

And crashes into you at 100 miles per hour.  Your cunt is contracting and pulsing around him so intensely you nearly black out, crying loudly into his mouth.  He’s groaning with you, the feeling of your already impossibly tight walls clenching down on him demands the orgasm out of him.  He’s cupping your whole face in his hands as he spills into you and your walls suck him in further, so far he could disappear completely.  

It feels as if you orgasm for hours, but it's merely minutes later that you’re trying to catch your breath and slip back into reality.  You’re clinging to each other like last lifelines and the gaze between you is so intense it clenches at your racing heart.  

The silence between you two is long and speaks an entire conversation before your lips even open.  He’s singing so sweetly through the speaker, it sounds like he’s singing directly to you.  “I love you,” you’re whispering to him.

He rubs at your cheeks in his palms, wiping away stray tears of bliss that have slipped down your face.

“I love you.”

You settle into him, unwilling to move a single inch away from your husband, and marvel at the beauty that is your life, your future.  

Jimin holds you close, kisses you gently and sings softly along to the music as you fall asleep, and he adores the fact that he holds his entire world, his future, in his arms.

© ppersonna - 2020 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

[rune-writes]

Tending to a Wounded Heart

Fandom: Mystic Messenger

Word Count: 3363

Rating: T

Summary: A look into how MC feels regarding Yoosung's eye injury in the months following the Mint Eye incident.

Note: This is my piece for @mysme-rbb where I got to collab with the amazing @littleaipom. The idea about MC tending to Yoosung's wounded eye came from her, and from there, we explore how both MC and Yoosung dealt with his injury in the months following the incident. It was such a pleasure working with her and a fun experience for sure! Be sure to check out her art too! It's wholesome, heartfelt, and guaranteed to pull at your heartstrings :'))

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~

Every time MC looked at Yoosung, a lump formed at the back of her throat. She tried to ignore it, tried to tell herself that she was over-thinking again. Yoosung always said that it was no big deal, that he could still see well enough with his good eye. But what if it was a big deal? MC suspected that with how often she spotted him groping blindly for things on his left side, or the way he had to pay extra attention when going down the stairs.

“I'm alright, MC,” he’d always say whenever she voiced her concern. “I got this for protecting you. If that had been a LOLOL raid, this’d be my badge of honor.”

If that had been a LOLOL raid, Yoosung wouldn’t have retained an actual injury. She tried to tell him that, to help him with menial tasks; it was the least she could do to ease his burden. But Yoosung always smiled and waved it off, saying there was no need and he could do it himself. MC's heart broke a little every time she saw that.

Today was a surprise visit, a concern-in-disguise, as MC told herself that Yoosung needed to consume healthier meals. So that's what she did, coming up to his apartment carrying a bag filled with freshly-cooked kimchi, grilled mackerel, and hot chicken soup. She wouldn’t say she was the best cook, but her mother had taught her the basics of a healthy meal, and she hoped they suited Yoosung’s palates. It was to her surprise, however, when she spotted him walking out of his apartment building with a big black trash bag in hand, sporting his left side.

Her heart constricted. MC paused midstep, watching him cross the pavement to the garbage dumpster on the side of the building. A limp on his left leg; Yoosung reached the dumpster, lifted the heavy bag, then tossed it inside. He sighed, stretching his back then stretching his arms, rolling his shoulders and neck. He massaged his left thigh, and MC thought she saw a glimmer of pain cross his features. Then he turned around, and for whatever reason, MC stepped back behind the bushes, keeping her eyes on his back as he made his way inside the building.

When Yoosung stumbled on the first step up the stairwell, MC half-moved, then stopped. She’d… probably just be a nuisance, wouldn't she? Her worry would only stress him more. But to see him so weak and vulnerable… Her fingers twitched. MC bit her lower lip and watched as Yoosung let out a soft curse, one hand gripping the railing hard to keep himself from falling flat on his face. Then he straightened his back and sighed once more, gingerly rolling his left ankle before he slowly, and painstakingly, climbed the stairs, keeping his good eye fixed downward on the steps.

She waited until he was out of sight, then waited another five minutes or so until she was sure he was back at his room. MC strode inside the building and up the stairwell to the third floor. The thought that Yoosung had to make this climb every day, up and down, with only one good eye, while still refusing any form of help, made her teeth grit.

She reached his door, then rang the bell. His voice came from inside, telling her to wait. A moment later, the door opened, and Yoosung stood in the doorway. The bandage covering his left eye was half-worn, and MC made a mental note to change it later. Good thing she came after all. The other eye—the good eye—widened at the sight of her, before it glinted, his face breaking into a bright smile. “MC!” His radiant beam teased an involuntary smile out of her.

“I brought you lunch,” she said as he let her in. “I hope that’s okay.”

That was awesome, he said. He wouldn’t have to go out and buy lunch, and, most of all, he got to save money. The innocent grin made her chuckle.

Yoosung’s studio apartment was on the small side, but big enough for a college student. A short hall that immediately opened up to the living area—a combination of bedroom and kitchen in one place. His bed was positioned at the farthest corner by the window, with his desk, computer set, and bookshelves on the other side of it. Just around the corner of the hall was the small kitchen counter, with the small electric stove, small refrigerator, and cupboards overhead. The small dining table acted as a partition between the kitchen and the rest of the apartment, and that was where MC set her bag down. Yoosung's eye sparkled when she took box after steaming box from the bag.

“It’s not much, but I hope you’ll like it."

“Of course I will. You made it.”

A little smile graced her lips. She looked at the clock on the wall. “It's not lunchtime yet though. Is it okay if I put these here first?”

“Sure. Let me get you something to drink. Is coffee good? I was just going to make some for myself.” He moved to the cupboards before she could say anything, then groped blindly for the coffee bag.

That little twinge of pain again. “Hey,” she said, “let me make the coffee.”

But Yoosung only chuckled, the soft, breathy chuckle that, in another occasion, would have sent her heart fluttering. “You’re the guest. I can't let you do that.”

But you’re hurt, MC wanted to say. You’re hurt, and I’m your girlfriend. Please let me do something to help, even if it’s just making you coffee.

He found the grounds next to the teabags, then told her to sit as he went to the coffee maker. She would, but there was an unease in her heart that refused to quiet down. So she kept watch, with one eye at least, as Yoosung poured water into the machine and added coffee grounds above the filter. At the touch of a button, the machine whirred and shook, and coffee began dripping into the pot beneath it. Then, as though noticing her gaze, he looked over his shoulder and met her eyes. Her heart leaped at the flash of his disarming smile.

Maybe he was right. Maybe she was being paranoid. Only having one good eye didn’t mean Yoosung couldn’t do menial tasks like brewing coffee, or climbing down the stairs. MC reassured herself that everything was alright, forced herself to take her eyes off Yoosung's back and resumed taking out the boxes. She was setting her lunch bag down on the floor when trouble occurred in a sharp hiss.

Something crashed. MC whipped her head up and saw Yoosung retracting his left hand then sucking it between his lips. Broken glass scattered over the countertop. What remained of the coffee pot now lay amongst a puddle of freshly-brewed black coffee, splashed across the counter and dripping onto the floor.

In the blink of an eye, MC had reached Yoosung’s side. She grabbed his hand, and he jumped, going tense when her grip turned hard.

“MC…” he tried to say. His hand was burned red, blisters already forming on the back of it. No cuts, thank God. Yoosung attempted to pull away but MC’s hold was firm. “It’s just a little burn,” he said again, even as his fingers twitched, hand strained under the pain.

“Water.”

MC shut off his protests. She brought him to the sink, then turned the tap water on over his burned hand. Yoosung hissed and winced, but he’d stopped struggling, the cool water slowly easing away the pain and the heat. Silence stretched between them, thick and palpable.

“I told you I’d make the coffee.”

Her voice was barely loud enough for him to hear, but he'd heard, and he called her name, the gentleness almost enough to draw her gaze to him, to let herself be lulled by that easy grin again. MC's lips wavered. She bit her tongue and gritted her teeth, forcing back the tears threatening to spill.

No more.

“MC?” He bent over, trying to catch her eyes under her bangs.

“What am I to you?” Her voice was uncharacteristically cold. He stopped. “I’m your girlfriend. Don't I mean anything to you?”

“What are you—?”

She tightened her grip. Yoosung flinched and almost backed up, but her hold rooted him to the spot. MC whipped her head at him, eyes flashing with anger, hurt, frustration, guilt.

“I’m your girlfriend!” So much vehemence. So much force. As if that single sentence was the reason everything happened. “But you wouldn’t—you're pushing me away! Keeping me in the dark; acting tough when you’re clearly in pain! Don’t you know how that makes me feel?” Her breath hitched. Her sight blurred. “You hurt your eye because of me!”

The dam broke. Angry tears burst free. She glared through them, glared until his one bright violet eye widened. In surprise? In realization? She didn't know. MC swallowed past the lump in her throat as tears after tears streamed down her face.

If only Yoosung hadn't gone with Seven that time…

When Seven had gotten the bomb situation at Rika's apartment under control, she'd thought the worst had past. But then Jaehee had received suspicious emails and someone had begun stalking Zen—though, given how popular the actor was, that shouldn't have raised alarms. But after the bomb, they'd all been paranoid, prompting Seven to investigate the emails' source. Everyone, including Yoosung, had been under the impression that those developments had been connected, and that, in turn, had led to the thought that MC's life was still in danger. So when Seven had finally found leads to a place called Mint Eye, Yoosung had offered to come with him.

She should've felt something was amiss; should've stopped him from going when he'd called to let her know. But MC knew, even as the thought kept haunting her mind for the months following it, that Yoosung would have gone with Seven whether or not her life had been at stake. That was just the person he was. He cared about his friends more than his life. And if Yoosung hadn't been there, Seven might not have escaped the place unscathed. MC knew he would have blamed himself for that.

Her hold loosened. MC hung her head, stepping back. “It’s my fault.” Her voice was quiet, broken, shaking. “And you're not giving me any chances to apologize.”

Silence fell. She moved away to fetch the first-aid kit from the bathroom. When she returned, Yoosung was still at the kitchen sink, burned hand held still beneath the pouring water.

She called him, and he jumped, as though coming out of a trance. She nodded toward the bed, lifting the first-aid kit box to emphasize her intention. He fumbled then, turning the tap water off and reaching for a rag to… wipe the messy counter maybe. But MC called again, and he discarded the rag and rounded the dining table where his steaming lunch still waited. MC dragged the desk chair to the bed and sat as Yoosung settled in front of her, jittery, tense, nervous. She set the box down on the low-lying table next to her and opened it.

The tap water should have cooled his hand, but the blisters looked nasty. She searched for burn ointments in the box, found it next to the bandages, then applied it to Yoosung’s hand, gently, carefully. Yoosung hissed, biting his lower lip, and still he acted like the tough guy he was not. So MC pressed a little harder on his tender skin. He gasped. “MC!” His eye flashed, but his indignation quickly died when he remembered her earlier outburst. Silence fell again.

“I’m changing the bandage.”

She reached up and around his head, finding the edge then unwinding the dirty gauze. She felt his gaze follow her, felt it waver and hesitate; saw, from the corner of her eyes, his mouth opening at the beginning of something. But he closed it before anything came out. Yoosung averted his gaze, fidgeting under her touch.

“If you hate the idea of me helping you so much, the least you could've done is take care of your eye properly. What if it gets infected?” MC scoffed, soft, under her breath. “And you call yourself a vet student.”

He mumbled something that sounded like "I don't hate it," but it was too quiet, and he made no effort to say it louder, so MC let him be. As the last of the bandage came off, a half-healed jagged scar greeted MC's eyes, stretching from his eyebrow to just above his cheek bone. Short enough to think that he had gotten away before anything serious happened, but the hacker had to have some skills with the knife, because even with the short gash, he had inflicted permanent damage on Yoosung's eye.

The doctor had done a marvelous job stitching everything together; MC could imagine it wouldn’t even leave a scar once everything healed. But now it was red and looking tender. When was the last time Yoosung changed the bandage? He flinched when MC applied the disinfectant and antibiotics ointment, flinched again when she wrapped the eye with a fresh gauze then held it in place. He kept his good eye down throughout the whole process, his fingers twitching before he clasped them together.

It wasn't until MC closed the first-aid kit and made to throw the used bandage that Yoosung caught her arm. “MC,” he called, hesitant. She glanced at him, at the way he hung his head, or the firm yet lax hold he had on her arm. She could pull away, but she settled back down. He fumbled with his words then, stammering as he tried to find the right thing to say, and MC stayed and waited, because he was holding her hand and she wanted to give him this chance.

“It’s not your fault,” was the first thing he said. The muscles along her jaws twitched. “No—I—I mean—um—” He pressed his lips, eyes darting away as he drew back into himself, looking so small that MC almost felt sorry. Or maybe she did feel sorry. Despite the pain it’d caused her, she knew he’d never meant any harm. The thought made her anger subside. The tension left her in a quiet sigh.

“Is it so hard to ask for help?” she asked. MC looked down at the hand on her wrist. She slipped out of his grasp, then turned his right hand palm-up, holding it, cradling it. He was so precious to her. Why couldn’t he see that? Why couldn’t he realize that him hurting also caused her pain? That, no matter what he said, she had a role in getting him blind.

Permanently damaged. The first time she heard that, when Seven broke down in front of them, she didn’t know what to think, what to feel. Everything had gone muted. The lights had gone dim.

Her fault.

It had been like a chant, or a curse. When MC saw him entering the party with a bandage covering one eye, she had forgotten how to breathe. Even though he’d said that it was no big deal, that everything was over and done with, that she was safe and that was all that mattered.

“What if you got hurt even more? Broke your leg or cut your hand—” she flicked an eye to his left hand, “—burned your hand. Is one eye not enough? Would you wait until you lose a limb before you accept people’s help?”

Would you still say it was nothing even then?

MC choked. Her chest felt tight, suffocating. Why couldn’t he see that?

On her lap, Yoosung had enveloped her hand in his. She noticed his burned finger too late, too close to her face. He wiped her tears, the touch featherlight, gentle, careful.

“I never meant to make you cry.” It was a soft murmur, remorse flickering across his eye. “I thought… I thought I was doing the right thing. That I was protecting you. That I needed to be strong, to act like everything is alright, so you wouldn’t feel guilty.” His jaws clenched, Yoosung shuddered in a quiet breath.

When he said nothing more, MC swallowed her sigh. "Did you know that by refusing help, when it is clear that you need one, you only put the other person in a difficult position?" she asked. "I was in a difficult position. I'm your girlfriend. I know we met through unusual circumstances, and we still barely know each other, but… the way you pushed me away…" Her hold on his hand tightened. "It felt like you didn't need me, that you were saying this was my fault."

"That’s not what I intended—"

"But that's how I perceived it."

They stared at each other, mouths pursed as they fought to contain their confusion and frustration. MC was the first to break eye contact, dropping her gaze to their joined hands. She brushed the back of his hand with her thumb.

The clock ticked, the seconds dragging long and slow until MC wondered how much time had passed, though in reality, one minute had barely gone by. In front of her, Yoosung sat still, stoic as a statue. She felt his gaze but refused to meet it. When at last he spoke, his voice was contrite:

"I'm sorry I made you feel that way." He returned the strength of her hold, prompting her to look up. "I didn't realize. I'm sorry." He shifted his gaze downward, an apologetic crease to his face. "I guess… I don't know, I guess I didn't want to appear weak in front of you. Like you said, we've only just known each other, and I didn't… I didn't want to look so pathetic. Losing an eye—after all that bravado I had when I asked you to be my girlfriend." He gave a self-deprecating scoff. "I was upset, to say the least. Distressed. Angry. But the thought that I did it for you, that I lost an eye for someone I love… it made it worthwhile, bearable. So I thought that I shouldn't mope or whine or complain, because this is my badge of honor, and I should wear it proudly."

The clock ticked again. Yoosung didn't lift his eyes.

"There's nothing wrong with whining," MC said. "In fact, you should whine. You lost an eye, for God's sake! It's only natural that you'd be distressed. But for you to have to deal with all of that yourself… That's not what I want. That's not what any of us want. The others—they've been worried about you too. You've been too cheerful. You act like nothing is wrong when something certainly is. And I understand wanting to appear strong in front of people, I do, but we're your friends! I'm your girlfriend. Shouldn't you trust us to help you figure all this out?"

Yoosung pressed his lips together. "I'm sorry."

She tugged at his hand. "Don't do that again!"

"I know. I'm sorry."

Her throat closed up again. More tears welled in her eyes. Before MC realized what she was doing, she had pulled Yoosung into her arms, crushing him in a tight embrace as sobs overtook her. It was a moment before his arms snaked around her, slowly encompassing her entire being. He whispered "I'm sorry" over and over to her ear. "I'm sorry, I won't do it again, I'm sorry."

When they finally broke free, both of them smiled. She stood up then, reaching for him with one hand winding around and resting on the back of his head. Her lips landed over the softness of his bangs in a gentle kiss, and Yoosung broke into a contented smile.

“Thanks, MC.”

MC pulled away and tilted her head to the side. “For what?”

With the aches of their argument behind them, he reached for her hand, intertwining his fingers in hers. He met her gaze, his eye crinkling as his smile grew into a brilliant beam.

“For being here for me.”

~ END ~

[uwurakax]

i wanna make her mine ♡

pairing: iwaizumi x f!reader (oikawa x f!reader) ♡

genre: angst // unrequited love // iwa’s in love with his best friends girl yay // love triangle(ish?) ♡

summary: he knew it was wrong, but iwaizumi hajime couldn’t help the fact that he was in love with his best friends girl ♡

word count: 1.9k ♡

author’s note: it’s not super angst, just a little bit (i wasn’t in the angst feels but i like it - a little lolol oops). someone needs to take youtube away from me from listening to these songs ✌️😭 as always its not proofread, so any mistakes yIKES ty for coming (also crappy writing due to writing this at 5am no sleep as always) 🌚 ♡

♡ (inspired by jessie’s girl by rick springfield) ♡

Iwaizumi Hajime is a good friend. Despite his intimidating stature and the frown lines that decorate his brow, he really was a kind and considerate guy; in his own way of course. Did he yell and raise his voice? Did he get violent with a certain pretty best friend of his? Of course, it’s just how Iwaizumi was. However ask his teammates and fellow peers and they’d tell you how loyal he is, how he always looked out for his friends. How he always put them first.

No one believed this more than said pretty boy best friend, Oikawa Tōru. Although the setter, and captain of their volleyball team, always complained about his ‘brutish friend’, he couldn’t deny that he did appreciate his childhood friends support and constant worry. As mean and as violent as Iwaizumi could get with him, Oikawa knew that deep down he was caring and looking out for him in his own manner.

“Hey, make sure you don’t stay up all night”

“If you catch a cold, I’m going to punch you”

Yes, those around him would say that Iwaizumi Hajime is a great guy and a good best friend, even if he was a ‘bit of a brute’. Though if you were to ask Iwaizumi himself, he’d wholeheartedly disagree with you. Why would he? Well, the answer is very simple.

Iwaizumi Hajime is in love with his best friends girlfriend.

It went against every moral compass implemented by humans. Against every bro-code created by men decades before him. He knew it was wrong, completely and utterly wrong. He knew he’d never do that to you, and he’d most definitely never do that to Oikawa; but Iwaizumi couldn’t help how he felt in the slightest. If he could, he’d tear up every emotion of affection he had towards you.

But unfortunately for Iwaizumi, he couldn’t.

This wasn’t some vampire TV show. He couldn’t turn off his emotions or humanity, no matter how much he wanted to; and by God did Iwaizumi want to. So badly. It was sick and twisted, the feelings he had for you.

L/N, Y/N. A fellow third year student at Aoba Johsai High School, Class 5. It was like fate had it out for him. He had the unfortunate pleasure of not just being in the same class as you, but seated in the desk right next to yours as well.

Life truly was cruel.

In this entire school, in the entire prefecture, the entirety of Japan, hell even of all freaking Earth, it just had to be you. Why, oh why did it have to be you?

Why did you have to fall in love with his best friend? And why did he have to fall in love with you?

It wasn’t like Iwaizumi didn’t want Oikawa to be happy. On the contrary, Iwaizumi never wanted Oikawa to be upset. He rarely saw the pretty setter truly smile, always opting to charm his way with a toothy grin, no matter who was on the receiving end. Iwaizumi knew, and could easily see through his deceptive smirk. He noticed, however, that he never used that smile around you.

Iwaizumi only ever saw Oikawa’s real smile around you. He could see that his best friend never needed to fake anything around you. Everything about you just radiated goodness, honestly and truth. It was probably why Oikawa never wanted to pretend with you.

And it only ever made it harder for Iwaizumi to hide his feelings from you.

He’d watch the way you’d come into practice, immediately greeting everyone, and then eagerly run towards your boyfriend.

“Tōru, have you been over exerting yourself again?”

It wasn’t anything new, especially not to Iwaizumi. Oikawa always had a tendency to push his body over its limits. It was why the ace usually got violent with the setter; he’d never listen otherwise. He knew the drill, it was like clockwork. Oikawa would swear up and down that he didn’t, despite the grimace he tried to hide. He was such a natural actor, anybody else would be fooled by his performance. Not you though, he could never fool you, and Oikawa could never fool Iwaizumi. You both saw through him easily, but you knew how he’d be, and there was only one way to get him to listen.

“Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi wasn’t particularly fond of the nickname Oikawa had given him when they were children. He daresay he didn’t really care for it at all, Oikawa seemed a bit too old to still be using such a cute and childish nickname. Oikawa was stubborn though, and through the years, he just got used to it. No, Iwaizumi wasn’t keen on the nickname, but when it fell from your lips he suddenly didn’t mind it at all.

He’d look over at you and see you pout, almost demanding to know if Oikawa was overdoing it. Iwaizumi had gotten so used to it, your words barely registered anymore. It was one of the off chances where you looked at Iwaizumi and he could look at you, and not feel guilty about it. As much as he hated the damage Oikawa would do to his own body, he couldn’t help but think it was a small blessing in disguise from the universe. For Iwaizumi didn’t need to listen to you so intently like he did the first few times. Nowadays, he could just enjoy just looking at you without it being ‘weird’ or ‘creepy’.

The way you pouted, crossed your arms, scrunched up your face and spilled words of concern over his best friend, your boyfriend. You were so cute, so beautiful. He couldn’t help but wish that he was the one you’d worry over instead.

These little interactions, however brief, were enough for Iwaizumi. He knew they wouldn’t last forever, knew you were only here while you guys were still in high school. Knew that once you all graduated, he’d never see you daily. Iwaizumi couldn’t decide on whether that was a good or bad thing, but while you both had these exchanges, he’d savour every moment.

And so Iwaizumi would say what he always did. Complain back that ‘Shittykawa’ wouldn’t listen to him, that he was so stubborn, that you’d need to talk sense into him, because he’d never listen to anyone else like he did you. Honestly who could blame Oikawa? Iwaizumi is sure that if you asked him to travel to the ends of the earth, he would do it in a heartbeat.

After practice is over, Iwaizumi grabs his water bottle, quickly chugging down the much needed liquid. He was so caught up in his thoughts, he didn’t notice you make your way towards him. Not until you’re right in front of him. Your presence startles him, and you’re just so close. His hands start to sweat, heart accelerating and he can feel the blood rush quickly to his face. His heartbeat rings loudly in his ears, and he’s surprised he can even hear you over the deafening drumming.

“Hey Iwa, are you alright? Your face is all red”

Iwaizumi curses mentally to himself when he feels the back of your hand press to his forehead. Your skin felt so smooth and cool against his. He knows he’ll never be able to feel it again, and his heart sinks at the thought. You’ll never know it, and he’ll never tell, but Iwaizumi makes a mental note of this moment, wanting to ingrain it in his body and soul forever.

This will be one of Iwaizumi Hajime’s most cherished memories.

Iwaizumi gently takes your wrist and reluctantly pushes it away from his face. He inhales deeply, his body already missing your comforting touch.

“You feel hot, could be a fever?”

He lightly chuckles, trying to release the tension pent up in his body.

“No, it’s obviously just from practice. Of course I’m all hot and red, that’s what exercise does to you, dumbass”

With surprising softness, he flicks your forehead. It’s not enough to hurt, not in the slightest; but it’s enough to have you embarrassed.

“Y-yeah yeah, whatever. Iwa-chan”

Iwaizumi notices your nervousness and he swears to himself. It was disgusting, you’re his best friends girlfriend; but he just can’t help the thoughts of wishing he was the one that got to see that face more often.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine. I gotta go help clean up, so I’ll see you later”

Oikawa was good at playing pretend, he had years of practice. No one knew that his best friend was a great pretender too.

It finally reaches the time where Iwaizumi can go home, and of course to his luck, he had to walk with Oikawa and you. You know how awkward it is to be the third wheel, and Iwaizumi is thankful of how considerate you are. It’s too bad his best friend wasn’t the same way.

He’ll watch you and Oikawa hold hands, smile and steal occasional quick pecks while you think he isn’t looking. Of course he see’s it though, he can’t help but look at you. At one point during your nightly stroll, you’ll shiver from the cold, and Iwaizumi so desperately wishes he could hold you, wrap his arms around you for warmth, but he knows he can’t.

So he just watches as Oikawa takes out his volleyball jacket and drapes it over you. You look good in white and teal, Iwaizumi thinks to himself. He hates how cute you look in it, and he feels his heart crack a little when you snuggle into it, sniffing the collar and inhaling Oikawa’s scent.

He tunes out the conversations you two are having, silently praying that you three can part ways at the next street. The sweet love confessions pouring out of both you and Oikawa taking a toll on Iwaizumi’s fragile heart.

You all finally make it to the crossroads where you part, the trio now to soon be a duo and a solo. Two’s company and three’s a crowd. It had never felt more truer than when he was with the two of you.

He’ll smile, make a joke about how he finally gets to go, being free of the nauseating presence of two lovers. You’ll roll your eyes and Oikawa will just refute with ‘Iwa-chan, you’re just jealous’. Oikawa has no idea how right he is.

So he goes, leaving behind the two of you at the corner. Iwaizumi takes a few steps and looks back, thinking he’d see your retreating form, but he doesn’t. He see’s you and Oikawa, still rooted in the corner, looking at each other with such love and admiration. Oikawa then leans down and kisses you deeply. You throw your arms around his neck, deepening it even further. Iwaizumi is no longer there, there’s no more prying eyes. The two of you didn’t need to pretend. You could freely express your love, no longer having to steal chaste kisses so your friend wouldn’t feel out of place.

Iwaizumi looks on and smiles sadly, before turning back around and making his way home. Oikawa Tōru was a natural actor, but so was Iwaizumi Hajime. Iwaizumi could fool everyone into thinking he was a good friend. No one would ever know he was secretly in love with his best friends girlfriend.

And no one would know how absolutely shattered his heart was every time he’d see the both of you together.