#moonlight muse collab

[cooking-with-hailstones]

Writing master post

Hello!

I figured it was time to put all my writing under one big pinned post.

You can find all my fics and ficlets under the tag #emily writes or find me on AO3

That Child of Mine:

Rated T (rating may change)

What is the legacy of the child born in secret to the Hero and the Goddess in a time of calamity?

(Ongoing long fic about Link and Zelda’s son, born one week before the calamity, raised in Kakariko village.)

Last updated May 7, 2023 (I SWEAR I'M GONNA FINISH IT, FIC IS NOT ABANDONED)

CW: Major character death

Silk and Moonlight

Rated G

The interminable boredom of guard duty is interrupted when Zelda's screams pierce the stillness of the evening. Link rushes to her side, only to find her awakening from a nightmare.The two of them take comfort in each others presence, in the slip of silk and the soft light of the moon.

Written for Zelinktines 2023 - day 2. Prompt: silk

It was my honour and privilege to collab with the amazing @bahbahhh for the art in this fic! Please go check out her stuff!

Is that a yes?

Rated E for sexual content (tags will make it pretty clear)

"Some unknown wellspring of courage bloomed inside her breast. Before she could think twice, the words were out of her mouth. 'You’re more than just a vessel for the sword, Link.'"

OR

Link has been trying for months to convince Zelda that she is more than just a weapon in the war against the calamity. Zelda decides that he should listen to his own advice.

Written for Zelinktines 2023 - day 16. Prompt: "Is that a yes?"

A chance encounter at the blood clinic

Rated T for blood, medical procedures 

After a day spent wrangling his students on a field trip to Lake Hylia and having to skip lunch, Link is sure that he'll be fine to go donate blood that evening.He is not fine.But at least he gets to spend some extra time with the lovely nurse, and eat a truly impressive amount of oreos, so, it could be worse?

Written for Zelinktines 2023 - day 21. Prompt: "meet-weird"

For a moment, when I’m dancing,

Rated G

“Is there anything else you would rather do?”

Images flashed through his mind. Cooking dinner with his mother, evenings spent helping his sister with her schoolwork, trailing after Mipha in the healing wards in Zora’s domain. None of it had ever felt as right as when he had first held the master sword in his hands.

“There is nothing else I know how to do. All I've ever known is to give all of myself to you.” And that was true. It was one of the truest things he had ever spoken. From the moment he first laid eyes on her, he had known that he would give everything and more to her, whatever she might ask.

She looked at him silently, before once again taking his hand in hers.

“Come inside. Dance with me.”

Based on the F+tM song “free”

Bright is the ring of words

Rated G

Kass and Link muse on the roles of the hero and bard, the strange ways in which legends are made, and stories are remembered.

Written for @bahbahhh as part of @zelinkcommunity ‘s Loftwing Letters event. Kass and Link centric, but there’s a hint of Zelink if you squint.

[rain-herb]

into the light

a short reikoga / kogarei piece i wrote like a month ago, slightly edited ( •̀ ω •́ )✧ [AO3 link]

“If I were to say, however,” Rei continues on, a small smile on his lips, “between us, you would be the sun, and I would be the moon.”

“I guess the moon does fit with your vampire image,” he muses, thinking of magazines with the special Feature Live outfits, what is your idol like up close and personal? sections and pictures of them in casual clothes, living their daily life. Sakuma Rei bathed in moonlight, smiling majestically. And now, Rei is sitting by his vegetable garden in a thin jacket over a long sleeved shirt he usually wears to sleep, chuckling at his words.

“That too, but that’s not entirely it.”

“Then what is it?”

Koga goes on a late night walk with Sakuma Rei.

..

By the third time Oogami Koga sits up in his bed, it becomes clear that he will not be getting any more sleep tonight.

For the longest time, he has made it a habit to go to bed around ten if he doesn’t have anything else to take care of, as an early riser who has a dog to walk in the morning and tasks to work on. 

This night in particular though, he got up to take a sip of water after waking from a weird dream he doesn’t remember much of, and all feelings of drowsiness just left him without a trace.

Has it been an hour? He consciously avoids looking at the clock (which comes with hands that glow in the dark, which should be convenient for time-checking in the dark, but not very much for sleepless nights where looking at the time only increases anxiety), lies down and continues to toss and turn around in his bed. The sound of the air conditioner feels louder than ever. He considers getting up and making himself a cup of hot chocolate, but that might wake his roommate up, and he knows that Kazehaya-senpai is very tired from a whole day of rehearsals for his unit’s upcoming collab LIVE.

Koga pulls his blanket over his shoulders and lets out a muffled curse. Five minutes pass—or maybe half an hour, he can’t be sure—and he gives up, sitting up in his bed.

A quick glance at the other side of the room tells him that his roommate is fast asleep. As quietly as he could manage, he gets up, changes into his usual practice clothes and slips out of the room.

As he turns the corner leading to the stairs of the dorm building, he finds himself face to face with Sakuma Rei, who he has not seen for almost a week due to Rei’s various photoshoots taking place in another city. His hair is messy in a way that suggests he just rolled out of bed (or his coffin) too.

“Koga,” Rei says, smiling.

“Sakuma-senpai,” he says back in greeting, some of his irritation already gone at the sight of that familiar face. Rei seems to brighten up as well.

“Hello to you too,” Rei nods. “No late night or early morning practice sessions today. Sorry.”

He shakes his head. “That’s fine. What are you doing up? Didn’t you just come back?” Koga asks, recalling their exchanges on LINE, the random, blurry pictures taken of cracked stone paths and the scenery from behind a dusty bus window. Rei’s pictures, being what they are, are not quite Instagram worthy in the way Kaoru’s pictures are (not that he has ever been an avid social media user), so he usually just sends them in the UNDEAD group chat or directly to Koga sometimes, accompanied with a string of kaomojis that he supposes are Rei's attempts at showing that he is, indeed, capable of using such features.

Rei shrugs. “Same reason as always. I did manage to get a few hours of sleep on the bus trip back.”

He makes a face - Rei’s sleeping habits are better now compared to before, but still. “You should go lie down for a while anyway.”

“I will, after this walk. And I can say the same to you too, Koga.”

“I couldn’t sleep. And there’s no school or work or lessons tomorrow, so I can just take a nap later in the day if I’m tired.”

“Okay. Come walk with me then.” And with that, Rei disappears down the stairs soundlessly, like a ghost in the night. Koga hurries after him.

Sometimes on the nights where they head off to early band practice, they would run into some other kid having a walk and getting some fresh air outside the dorms. He’s glad that tonight isn’t one of those nights.

They walk along the building. Rei asks him about school and club activities. He answers those questions, tells him about the twins, about Ricchi, even about teachers and class. The recent guitar lessons remain a secret, because he wants it to be a surprise. He asks about work and the trip and the food Rei had. Apparently the place has a lot of famous dessert shops. Not all were sweet, I think you would like some of them, says Sakuma-senpai. The breeze is cool and comfortable.

As they get close to the gardening area, Rei’s footsteps begin to slow. He approaches the neatly lined still-growing vegetables with great interest.

“How lovely.” He touches a tomato with a single outstretched finger. Koga swats his hand away defensively out of pure habit, to which he raises both hands, expression innocent, like he might just start doing his world-famous fake cry right this moment. Koga quickly cuts him off before that could happen.

“I wonder if I’ll have space to do gardening like this when I eventually move into my own home in the future.”

“What kind of house would you like to live in?”

“I dunno. I guess I could still grow stuff like tomatoes and onions and lettuce in an apartment, though the space would be much smaller than what I’m used to.”

Rei adds, “it has to have soundproof walls.”

A nod. “That’s for sure.”

“And extra space for Leon-kun.”

“He did fine in my small apartment from before and he’s okay in my current dorm room, but that sounds nice. He’d like it.”

“I’m sure it will be nice.”

“What kind of place would you like to stay in, Sakuma-senpai?” he asks, because surely Rei doesn’t enjoy his current rooming arrangement despite being somewhat used to it by now. His mind drifts back to certain hot summer days, the mention of houses with red roofs and lawns big enough for puppies. He couldn’t imagine Rei actually sitting in a lawn like that and sipping iced coffee while watching Leon (why would he be there in the first place?) have fun running around under the sun, but maybe it isn’t so hard to actually see after all. The idea of Sakuma Rei, all grown and happy, living in a home of his own. It is something he’d like to see become a reality more than anything else, he thinks.

Rei looks at him with that seemingly all-knowing stare, which puts in him the strange thought that Rei has managed to read his mind from the small smile that managed to sneak onto his lips for a few seconds. Which is impossible, of course, but Sakuma Rei just has that effect on people.

Rei’s eyes remain on him. Koga half expects him to say that same response from back then and then start musing about the past and the strange times they’ve gone through together, as he often does, like he’s actually an old man recounting his youth. He does not do that, however.

“It’s not something I have thought about much,” he says after a while. “I have to admit though, the idea of a home for UNDEAD is a nice one.”

The four of them, staying together. It’s something Koga has found himself thinking of before entering Yumenosaki (even if it was just about Sakuma-senpai at that time), before he waved it off as something unlikely to happen. It’s not something he expected Rei to want, however. Rei, who at some point he thought only put this unit of theirs together to please everyone. In a sense, UNDEAD was formed because it was a solution to everyone’s wishes at the time. Adonis needed a purpose; Kaoru needed something to pass time with, even if he didn’t think so then, and it wasn’t really Rei’s business. And Koga wanted a unit, despite his constant claims of being a lone wolf. He wanted to be with Sakuma Rei. So Rei only did what seemed natural - gathered all these scattered pieces and put them together. He always knew the best, after all. And they had fit together, even if it had taken a bit of time.

“I don’t think Hakaze-senpai would like to see our faces more than he already does now,” he says, half joking.

Rei laughs heartily, and it is a wonderful sound. “Perhaps. We could still be his annoying neighbours. That’s probably still on a level that he would find acceptable.”

That scenario is weirdly clear as he lets it play in his head, and he couldn't help but smile a little. “And Adonis would stay with him because he’s the favourite.”

Rei raises his eyebrows. “Is this your way of saying that you’d stay with me then?”

“You were the first to imply that!” Koga says immediately, maybe a little too loudly, and then immediately places a hand over his mouth and lowers his volume, conscious of the current time. “But you know what? Sure. Sure, I would.”

“You always get embarrassed so easily, Koga,” Rei says, something like fondness crinkling in his eyes. “I remember you once said that you wanted to stay with me forever, when you were a first year. You were such a cute and honest boy then.”

He pointedly ignores the last statement. “Well, we are chasing after the same goals, so I’d say that’s still true.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah,” he says, voice small and averting his eyes, trying to search for something else he could talk about because he’s not talking about such things with Sakuma-senpai now lest he end up spilling certain thoughts that lie deep within his mind at this moment, which wouldn’t be unacceptable or terrible or whatever - just the two of them, under the moonlight - but he would much prefer doing so somewhere that’s not his vegetable garden before dayspring. “There’s a full moon tonight, huh. I didn’t realise.”

His Sakuma-senpai very kindly does not point out how terrible that change in topic was executed. “I didn’t realise either.”

“Speaking of, that glasses basta—” A cough, “— Hasumi-senpai , he said something once. Something about trying to catch up to you would be like the moon trying to catch up to the sun.”

Rei hums. “So an impossible feat , huh? That guy and his metaphors, honestly. I guess he really was going through something back then. He didn’t need to become someone like me or anyone though.” 

Koga does not say anything to that. He reaches out and plucks a weed from the garden, resisting the urge to call Hasumi-senpai a moron, to say I would, though, I never cared about such things or whatever he said then, I said I would stay and I did . He does not say any of that. They both already knew that for a very long time.

“If I were to say, however,” Rei continues on, a small smile on his lips, “between us, you would be the sun, and I would be the moon.”

“I guess the moon does fit with your vampire image,” he muses, thinking of magazines with the special Feature Live outfits, what is your idol like up close and personal? sections and pictures of them in casual clothes, living their daily life. Sakuma Rei bathed in moonlight, smiling majestically. (After his own section was published, Anzu showed him the pictures, pointed out to him how similar he was to Rei. The way you carry yourself, she had said, and your smile. Perhaps he is rubbing off on you. And then he had said how would that even work? in response, but couldn’t help the spark of elation in his heart.) And now, Rei is sitting by his vegetable garden in a thin jacket over a long sleeved shirt he usually wears to sleep, chuckling at his words.

“That too, but that’s not entirely it.”

“Then what is it?”

Rei presses a finger to his lips. “Not telling.”

After that he gets to his feet, which makes Koga think for a moment that he’s just going to make his escape after leaving him with a whole load of questions (a common occurrence, really), but then he just goes to the open space near the benches and lies down on the grass. Honestly, he doesn’t even mind that Rei doesn’t want to tell him the reason, since he’s fairly sure that it will turn out to be some sappy shit or another one of Rei’s odd analogies that Koga won’t understand anyway.

“What are you doing?” Koga sighs, following after him. He stands there for a few seconds before deciding to just plop down next to Rei. The grass is somewhat itchy and uncomfortable to sit on directly, so he shifts around a little in his spot, wondering if Rei doesn’t have a problem with this due to his extra layer of clothes, or he’s just good at ignoring the terrible, terrible feeling (unlikely, considering the way he is sprawled out on the grass). Either way, he’ll have to bring a picnic blanket along next time, he decides. 

“If you wanna sleep, go back to your room.” He pokes Rei in the side of his head with a finger. His hair is soft. 

“No.” Rei shuts his eyes. So he has switched the usual old man persona for the lesser seen bratty child one (which he himself dubs as ‘Rei-chan’, according to Kaoru, the words said in the most annoying, sugary sweet voice he could muster). 

“I’m not helping carry you back after this,” Koga says, looking upwards at the sky.

“I’ll call Adonis-kun and have him lend me his strong, reliable arms.”

“You don’t even have your phone with you,” Koga points out, wrapping his arms around his knees.

Rei makes a noise that sounds like a mix between mild annoyance and agreement.

“That’s true. Well, too bad then.” He turns on his side, his back facing Koga, who’s just kind of amused at this point. Koga turns to lie down as well, but then gets the terrible feeling of grass against his arm and back, and then immediately springs back up. A small chuckle goes off from next to him.

He nudges his arm lightly. “Sakuma-senpai.” 

“I’m already asleep,” comes his reply.

“Let’s go. I’m not letting you catch a cold on me here. We can go sit in the common area or something. And then we can go over our new songs or pull up some concert or show to watch.”

“’s nothing to worry about. I don’t get sick that easily.”

He huffs. “Sure you don’t.”

Rei rolls back on his back. “Help me get up.”

“No,” Koga replies, but goes to pull on his outstretched hand anyway after standing up, ignoring the huge grin on Rei's face as he does so. After Rei manages to get up, Koga starts heading back towards the direction of the dorms, but Rei does not let go of his hand, which… okay, sure, whatever. He doesn’t mind. 

He does, however, comment on how cold Rei’s hand is, to which Rei jokes that’s why I have you here to keep me warm. He rolls his eyes and says okay. They continue walking.

“Koga.”

“Hmm?” Koga says, voice soft.

“—Koooga.”

He contemplates his life choices before going, “What is it?”

“You’re like the sun. And I am able to shine again thanks to your light.”

He pauses his step, turns to look at Rei.

“...Is this about what you were going to say earlier?”

“Yeah.”

He considers, goes over a few possible responses. The tone Rei used to say all of that sounded casual but sincere enough, so he’s not getting teased if he gives a proper answer. Probably. But then, he finds that he doesn’t really care if he ends up getting teased anyway, because how could he, in such a moment? 

“I’m glad,” he says in the end, because he is; he is never not glad to be here next to Sakuma Rei. He squeezes Rei’s hand. “That’s all I wanted.”

Rei beams. “I will be counting on you in the future as well, Koga.”

The future . After all of the things that happened the past few years, Koga feels like he could say with certainty that he looked forward to the future, graduating high school, celebrating anniversaries with UNDEAD, whatever there is to come. 

“The same goes for me, Sakuma-senpai.”

[erikaskblog]

EdouardVampiresimpFollows you🐕🐕‍🦺Dogs are life I love them.🐩🦮 Background by https://www.quotev.com/AuroraDawn https://www.quotev.com/groups/1615875833 https://i.postimg.cc/5NCnP0qD/a7caf40f04176bb9c58e19a9af88ff07.jpg One of my alts https://www.quotev.com/draculaslover https://www.quotev.com/Mordoz2/journal/9061085/Rp-rules-again ,https://i.pinimg.com/564x/99/9f/e1/999fe112cb7df0ebe7fd8b58be163ba0.jpg If you ever tried s3lf h@rm, cr!ed yourself to sleep bc u thought you weren't g00d en0ugh or tried t@king your own l!fe copy this to your about, let's see how many of us are there. https://www.quotev.com/story/15090915/Stop-wildlife-crime-and-animal-abuse https://i.postimg.cc/3xX50mGS/Tumblr-l-6394755294226.png ⚔️ 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐚𝐲 ⚔️Castlevania nocturne, United StatesJoined July 30, 2021 Active 37 minutes ago ((Pine)))Hello I'm Louis but the admin is called Pine,my pronouns are she/them ,I hope you enjoy my lovely page Credit. Byf. Dni. Friends. Extra.PublishedPiggy Warrior cats Marvel x reader Marvel ocs Marvel as animals Marvel Warriors and marvel and other things Ocs Reveals Doctor strange An dog's purpose What ifs Polls for shit Gifts Headcanons Animal adoption centers Stuff irl not q related The shades of blood Free response surveys Warrior cat quizzes Google translated Warrior novellas Animal rps Doctor strange 2 Random rps Voice headcanons Wings of fire Fusions Request My art Warriors fanfics outside of the arc I'm writing Art collabs Lion King Blood river My dog Stuff I like Marvel animal rp Bloodclan Crossover Warrior cat aus Shops Stuff Just warrior cat rps Pride month Cheethz au quizzes Animals About me Doctor strange 3 Mwf Fnaf Wakanda forever Merchandise Abandoned places Cats and dogs I survived Survivors Call of duty black ops Cold war Rewrites from original account The one and only Ivan Eh idk stuff Castlevania Empire of the vampire Pigeon forge trip Washington DC trip Spotify Pets Local museum Orlox strange Commissions Abandoned Interview with the vampire Duolingo Sims Call of dutyBleeding Moonlight: Joyeux's backstory2 pages 3 weeks ago Castlevania Castlevania Nocturne |Joyeux oc |FanfictionThe backstory of my Castlevania nocturne oc Joyeux♥ 1 Discussion 4 8 reads · 4 readersBlood and fire evil Gabriel de Leōn au1 page 6 weeks ago Empire of the vampire Empire Of The Vampire Empire Of The Dammed |Gabriel De Leōn |FanfictionIdk yet♥ 2 29 reads · 18 readersYou have viewed thisNew Ways through the multiverse3 pages 8 weeks ago Doctor strange 2 Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness Doctor Strange Ways through The Multiverse |Sinster Strange CleaFanfictionCover was made by @lethalvenom An doctor strange fan fiction,spoilers for doctor strange 2 and spoilers for doctor strange 1♥ 4 Discussion 38 111 reads · 29 readersSee allLibraryAdded Recently viewedTherian art vent book!1 page 9 hours ago Skyestorm says Im leaving ThunderClan FanfictionTell me if you want me to make some art of your theriotypes!Art book1 page 1 day ago PlushieN Art. Some is fanart, some is not. The watermark saying 'JustClover11@ is my old usernameMy new doggo reveal ️ ️1 page 1 day ago Gσld ღ is a bit busy rn NonfictionShould I reveal my new puppy? He's so cute! EEEEEEE!look at my bnuuy1 page 3 months ago Fiona Fanfictionshadowwwwww!!!See allJanuary 1, 2024New face claim for Guillaume de PompadourArt is bywww.reddit.com/u/AbasedEidolon/s/vpECq9uLLi 7 days ago CommentSee allEdouardNew muse post and pinnedPlease interact pleaseOld pinnedwww.quotev.com/Vampiresimp/activity/843507232Edouard was singing at a opera theater,before the young man glanced at you3 ♥ Edouard updated Rating warrior cat ships!!♥Edouard updated South American sanctum information♥Edouard updated Marvel Oc's♥Edouard updated Australia sanctum decorations♥Edouard updated South American sanctum information1 ♥See allY

Charge phone more snacks and more money

[lacheri]

“moonlight muse” lacheri’s 1k collab event

hi everyone! first of all, thank you guys so very much for allowing me to reach this milestone. I’m releasing this a bit early, but I’m so impatient and this has been sitting in my drafts for a MINUTE. I am so very grateful to every single one of you that’s supported me and my writing — it’s an honor. special thanks to @onwiings and @ryukatters for helping me come up with ideas for this event! you guys are the best and I am so very thankful for everything you guys do. <3

prompt

late nights bleeding into early mornings. soul searching at the bottom of a bottle at the local dive. finding a savior in a midnight lover. slow dancing in the middle of crowded room. a jukebox playing a song reserved for lovers. screaming into the void to hear it call back. falling in love under the light of the moon.

I’m leaving the concept open, but the theme is late night shenanigans. dive bars, crowded clubs, empty movie theaters, a midnight stroll on the beach, a camping trip, stuck in a room with the person you’ve been pining over — anything that could occur between the late night and early morning hours. make it as grungy, fluffy, edgy, or pure as you would like! all plots are accepted! you can base it off of a trope, a song, a movie, whatever inspires you! if it’s a song let me know and I’ll add a link to it with your submission!

rules

must be 18+ to join this collab. I’m setting the deadline to September 21st, but it’s not a strict deadline. update: the deadline is now October 21st! update 2: deadline is now extended to Novemeber 6th due to kinktober! <3

to join: send me an ask or a message with your chosen character(s), and a summary of your concept/idea, as well as if it is not sfw/dark content or sfw! (additional tags such as smut/angst/fluff would be appreciated as you develop your idea!)

this is open to both the aot and jjk fandoms!

I’m allowing a count of 2 repeat characters. (ex: two Eren stories, two Levi stories, etc.) this will be first come first serve! two characters to a story are also welcomed! (ex: Erwin x reader x Levi)

must meet a minimum of 500 words!

if you have any questions feel free to shoot me a message or an ask! I love collaborating ideas with other writers, and helping in any way I can! I know the concept is very open lol so if confused please let me know if I can be of any help!

send me an ask or message if you've joined and want me to update your submission (title, summary, tags)

characters

symbols: s - smut, d - dark content, a - angst, f - fluff

attack on titan

Levi — Signals // "call off the search for your soul, or put it on hold again." — @lacheri (a, s, d)

Levi — Ten Hours. // "In ten hours, Levi has to escape. In ten hours, you have to help him." — @astridthevalkyrie (a, s)

Eren — High Latitude // “Out of the skies and into your quiet corner of the world comes a gang of artists and one engineer, courtesy of your favorite bush pilot, Zeke Yeager. As a rule-abiding park ranger, you get to teach your captive audience that even the best laid plans of marmots and men often go awry… this is usually due to the weather, weed, and Zeke’s little half brother.” — @asilentshout (s, d)

Eren — tba // "a meeting late at night" — @celestidarling (not sfw)

Jean — tba // "stargazing" — @wxstoria (sfw)

Armin — Mine // "Your boss, Armim Arlert, said he wanted to keep things between you professional. So why is his hand on your thigh?" — @eripeachy (s, d)

Armin — tba // "feeling risque, your boyfriend Armin suggests sneaking into the campus library after hours for date night." — @jenijae (not sfw)

Miche — tba // "Miche sneaks you out the day before your wedding for one last date." — @chaotic-nick

Miche — Full Moon Gospels // "You are on night watch with the other half of the scouts as they try and capture the female titan in Stohess. Miche comes to pay a visit to keep you company but a question leads to confession leads to clothes off and full moon gospels as you both finally get what you want. Morning comes and you awaken in bed to the alarms of titans in Wall Rose." — @sinnerofthewalls (s, a)

Hitch — tba // "sleepover" — @besotted-eros (not sfw)

Pieck — tba // "tba" — @haikyutiehoe

Porco — tba // "tba" — @liashideout (s)

Grisha — tba // "fear and loathing in las vegas" — @blondeboyfriend (s, d)

Kenny — She's My Cherry Pie // "retro bar vibes" — @cherryackerman (s)

Eren x reader x Jean — tba // "late night roadtrip" — @killuki (f)

Connie x reader x Jean — In My Fucking Feelings // "tba" — @bibblelevi (a, s, d)

Erwin x reader x Levi — tba // "tba" — @docoooo (s)

OC (fem) x Levi, Erwin, Hange, Jean, Connie, + Eren — When It's Love, If It's Not Rough It Isn't Fun // "The first thing she noticed was that there were more footsteps entering the room than she was used to." — @scaredpigeons (s)

jujutsu kaisen

Yuuji — Cloud 9 // “A night out in the city with your favorite person. No desination, just vibes.” — @ryukatters (f, s)

Yuuji — Strawberry Kiss // "reader and itadori go out to a midnight showing of a classic horror movie :) slice of life, implied childhood best friends to lovers ? idk itadori is just a lil cutie" — @honeyspalette (f)

Megumi — All The Things He Said // "You truly wondered if it was possible to be so happy and sad at the same time." — @pennylanewrites (s, a, f)

Megumi — Those Nights // "Let’s test that resolve, Megumi thinks to himself as he walks a path he’s traveled one too many times, a road he once walked down alongside you, towards the place he used to call home." — @phasmwrites / @arcanumbras (a, s)

Geto — Goodnight Moon // "Suguru, how could you let him control you like this?" — @greentealeavesss (a, d)

Yuuta — tba // "tba" — @mattyinc

Nanami — Nights Without You. // "Kento, it’s almost midnight; why aren’t you home? Are you working overtime again?" — @devilstempt (a)

[lacheri]

I am utterly speechless. I was attached to every single word. my heart hurts so bad right now. I have actual tears rolling down my face at the last few paragraphs.

73 sounds like a good number to me.

thanks for joining my collab. it was such a pleasure reading this. thanks for creating art. because that’s what this is.

NIGHTS WITHOUT YOU.

nanami kento.

for @lacheri ‘s moonlight muses collab- congratulations again on 1k!

i’m so sorry. inspired by ghost of you by 5SOS.

tags: absolute pure angst, gn reader, alternate universe but IMPLIED JJK MANGA SPOILERS, swearing, memory reflection, VHS tapes

warnings: death, blood, described panic attack

wc: 5.1k

Kento, it’s almost midnight; why aren’t you home? Are you working overtime again?

You often found your mind wandering during the nights, head swimming with questions left unanswered, and answers to questions never asked.

The nights were so much harder, and you never could quite figure out why. Maybe it was the fact that everything was darker, quieter. Nothing to focus on, to distract yourself from. Maybe it was the fact that you were alone in your home, something you hadn’t been in years, not since you were 21.

When the blinds on the world finally fall, and you are wrapped in silence once again, you expect yourself to break. Expect something like out of a movie, where they drop to their knees and scream out to a void that wronged them, one that never has an obligation to answer.

Of course, it all hurts. Like an incessant scratch on the inside of your lungs, under your skin, in your blood. It’s tearing you apart and you want nothing more than to fall asleep and wake up with his arms around you again, as the light of the morning breaks through glass to bless him with its rays. But you wake up alone.

It’s a pain that you realise will not, cannot, go away with time, like you expect it to. Oftentimes it takes over, has you gasping for air as you wake up much too early, scraping at your chest to tear out a heart that has long been broken, only to leave angry red marks and tears.

It’s too difficult to remember life without him. You can hardly recall your youth from before you met him at 11, with every memory since then occupied by him. Him, him, him, and only him.

He is all you can think about as you open up your film cabinet at 3 in the morning. He insisted on keeping an old TV with the VCR player, ‘if not for the nostalgia, then for our tapes’. You still remember how you snorted and slapped his shoulder, laughing at his horrible attempt at an innuendo. Sometimes you still see him sitting in front of the cabinet, labelling and ordering all the tapes methodically, turning back to face you with a smile when you offer him his tea.

You sigh as you run your fingers across the VHS tapes, stopping at a random one to pull it from the shelf and insert it into the VCR player, eyes glued to how it swallows your memory whole, not wanting to look up at how it’ll play it out for you, too.

“C’mon Ken, you can’t be serious!”

“I absolutely am,” You know how this tape goes, know it off by heart, but you still watch it as if it’s the first time you’ve seen it. You still notice how he struggles to balance the camcorder on the shelf of his old family bathroom, notice how he smiles the slightest bit at your whining.

You’re both so much younger, it almost makes you laugh. Almost 11 years have passed since then, but your 16 year old faces are a stark difference to your 27 year old ones, though the eyebags seem about the same.

The quality is ‘fizzy’ as you like to call it, but you can still see both of your acne and your scars, see your little imperfections through the grain. You still remember how the both of you thought it was the end of the world when a new spot turned up, or when one scarred horribly. You remember when you heard about Bio-Oil and Fade Out, remember the way you both gushed to each other when you realised they worked.

The tape has continued while you live out your memories, and now 16 year old you is snatching gloves from his hands and putting them on yours, prepping the bottle to squeeze on him, “You’d better be sure about this.”

“Trust me,” he smiles, and you see how your younger self almost crumbles at it, “I am.”

You sigh softly as you shake the bottle in your hands and squeeze the contents onto his hair, putting it down to massage the dye through his caramel coloured strands. Somehow, he had convinced himself, and you, that a) he would look better platinum blond, and b) the box dye would lift the colour from his dark hair, without bleach.

His hair was longer then, with a side part and pieces that wouldn’t tuck behind his ears falling on his face. It hadn’t really gotten any longer than that afterwards, staying at that length until he cut it, and since then he had preferred to keep it shorter, and styled, though you kept nudging him to let it grow out a little. He refused to listen.

The waiting process wasn’t filmed, a result of one of you forgetting to charge the camcorder, so it conveniently died just as you waved your dye-covered gloves at the camera. You remember how he grumbled at you as he went to charge it, a Hello Kitty towel draped around his shoulders, and hair soaked in dye, while you bickered with him, telling him it was actually his fault, seeing how it was his camcorder.

The rest of it never was filmed, with the charger malfunctioning and deciding not to do its job, but the memory still feels fresh in your mind. You waited in his bedroom as he showered, making a head start on some of your homework, but all your focus flew out through his window when he walked into his room, blue plaid pyjama pants low on his waist, hair dripping and a hand on the back of his neck, he sheepishly muttered, “I forgot my t-shirt.”

You could’ve fainted there and then, and you swear you almost did. He wasn’t as built then, just a faint outline of abs and a V-line on tan skin, but to you, he could well have been a marble structure, with the way his new blond hair contrasted his skin.

To this day, you’re still not surprised by the way you take a t-shirt from his drawers and pull it over his head as he puts his arms through the holes; still not surprised by the way you pressed your lips to his straight after, your hands under his top, touching his burning skin at his waist.

It was your first kiss as much as it was his, the result of an unspoken promise to devote yourselves to each other. The way his chapped lips moved against yours was oddly soothing, a kind scratch that was so wonderfully him.

The way that the magazines made it out to be, you expected a swarm of butterflies in your stomach, pushing up through your chest. The wave of serenity that washed over your body in that moment was so confusing to you, made you doubt him, doubt your feelings for him. But when you pulled away, and he clung to your body, pretty brown eyes peering at you, you smiled and placed your hand to his cheek, laughing when he turned to kiss your palm, chapped lips tickling it.

You knew then that the universe had fated you two together, lovers in every lifetime, as written in the stars. Because truly, there was no other person who could ever make you feel so at peace than him. Because it was always, will always be Kento. Always and forever, him.

The screen had long been black, as your memory consumed your thoughts, and as soon as your eyes refocus on the blank screen, you’re moving to eject the tape, pushing it back on the shelf, and pulling out a new one to insert.

This one had collected dust for much too long, and you had forgotten about it. Though as the video focuses, and you see his side profile, you wonder how you could ever let it slip your memory.

Your teenage years were dominated by experimentation of what you enjoyed, learning about yourself, and what made you happy. Of course, with your own journey of self exploration, also came his, and that was how the both of you ended up at a skatepark, thoroughly unprepared.

Years on and you still don’t understand how the both of you got hold of skateboards, knee and elbow pads, and helmets. He would joke that you stole it, but you’re pretty sure that it was either him who stole it (highly doubted), or Gojo (very reasonable), under the pretence of ‘ensuring that my best friend gets some’. He definitely hit him after that.

The tape played and you watched how you almost tripped over your own feet, watched how you step up on your board, arms out and knees bent as he snorted, “You look like a fuckin’ surfer.”

“Piss off,” you grumbled, “Try and do better then.”

The faint smirk on his face was clear even through the grainy texture of the tape, but it was all but lost as he climbed up on his board, which promptly (and quite conveniently) slipped from underneath him, leaving him to fall flat on his ass with a groan.

“Are you,” you’re laughing as you step off your board to crouch next to him, and you can barely get your words out, “Okay?”

“Of course I’m not. My fuckin’ ass hurts.”

He stares at you in disbelief as you collapse beside him, cackling at his pain. He so desperately wants to be pissed at you, wants to shout at you for laughing instead of helping him, yet he just hits your shoulder weakly, chuckles escaping the confines of his chest, and within minutes, there are tears in your eyes and in his, as you clutch at your chests for breath.

You’re not sure what the water welling up in your eyes now is due to, but you know that it doesn’t slip down. Confined to its place, it remains there, its desperation tearing at your eyes, needing a reason to fall. You don’t give it one.

And so it dries, and your vision is focused sharply on the TV as your memories play out from a foreigner's view; detached but incredibly personal, like a diary read aloud by a stranger.

You were an ace when it came to skateboarding, gliding around the track as he wobbled and shook slightly with the littlest of movements. In the end, you took to holding his hands while on your own skateboard to help balance him.

You hummed when his palms touched yours, soft and sticky, but with the telling signs of hardening. You used to tell him to moisturise them more, to keep them softer for longer, but he continuously refused, either plain out forgetting, or arguing that it would make his hands even sweatier. There was never really any point in arguing with him back, so you just left it, settled with feeling the way the texture of his hands changed over the years.

The camcorder didn’t pick up your mutters from its perch on a low wall, didn’t pick up on the way you reassured him, the way you praised him when he stopped wobbling on the board.

The camcorder barely picked up on his faint blush at the intimacy, but the heat of his hands and his tightening grip was unmistakable, and it wasn’t hard to notice how his skating somehow improved incredibly in the span of 5 minutes.

The tape continued for another hour, and you knew it was nearing its end when you saw how you put your skateboards aside, and removed your helmets to watch the sun set over the buildings of the city.

The camcorder filmed your backs as you both sat, dangling your legs over the edge, you leaning back on your hands, and him with his head on your shoulder. You never realised how well the two of you fit together. Seeing it felt like putting a piece of furniture in a tight place, afraid that it’s too big, only to have it fit perfectly.

Only when the sun disappeared over the darkening buildings, and you were left to bathe in its shadow, did you rest your head on his. As soft oranges and pale yellows faded and weakened, as they began to meld into shades of purple, as the sun finally disappeared, and left nothing but bleached darkness as a parting gift, you sat there. Though your hands started to ache, though his neck began to sore, the two of you sat there. Only when a nearby streetlight shut off did you rise from your positions, bodies stiff, to stretch and take your boards to walk home.

Your hand pauses on the eject button, and you roll the idea of playing the tape again in your hand. You want to hear his laugh again, even if it is vastly different to the one you heard only months ago, but you also want to curl up in a ball and cry.

Your body decides for you, because in minutes, the tape has been put away, and you’re lying on your side of the bed, duvet pulled carelessly over your body, eyes focused on the dark ceiling.

Kento came to you the morning after. Knocking his shoulder against yours as you walked your school’s hallways, whispering, “My ass is bruised.”

You still think he just said that to fuck with you, because the way he smirked when you had to slap your hand over your mouth to prevent yourself from laughing in the silent hallway was so cocky, you couldn’t help but push him lightly into the wall as you sped walk to your shared class.

His ass was never bruised; you figured this out when you got to lunch and he sat down comfortably. The glare he sent you when you slapped his back mid-bite, was not unmissed, but you still laughed it off, tapping the table with two fingers, twice. Payback.

He rolled his eyes. You fall asleep.

It’s 9 in the morning when you wake up, and you want to laugh, because your body clock hasn’t worked as well as it has in the past few months than it has in the past seven years.

The way you fall into routine subconsciously prevents you from thinking for much longer. You clamber out of your bed, fixing the duvet, and looking away when you see his side of the bed untouched. The mattress has no recollection that he has ever touched it before. You move to the bathroom, and begin to brush your teeth, your eyes glazing over when you only see yourself in the mirror, only feel goosebumps on your waist. You don’t look at his toothbrush.

When you finish up in the bathroom, you change into some pyjamas, putting on your own t-shirt instead of his. When you make your way to the kitchen, you find yourself brewing a mug of tea, along with your coffee, sweetening it with honey, to let it stand by the fridge and allow its warmth to die with the day. You’ll only empty it tonight and wash it to use it again.

You sip on your coffee as you take the newspaper from your front door letterbox, consciously ignoring that it wasn’t already on the table in front of your seat. Today you take it to your sofa, placing your mug down on the coffee table, and opening the newspaper. Nobody peers over your shoulder to see the front page.

When 10 o’clock rolls around and you don't hear the front door open, don’t hear him shouting something to you before shutting it behind him, you simply sigh.

When the clock strikes half 11, and his name doesn’t flash on your phone, when it's 25 minutes to 12, and you’re not on video call with him, and you’re not eating lunch with him; you can’t find it in yourself to stay awake, and so you succumb to the sweet lull of sleep, and don’t wake up until 9 at night.

You haven’t dreamed in months; not since the last night he wrapped his arms around you, since the last time you felt his warm body press up against yours, since the last time that he overtook all of your senses.

You used to hate Kento’s cologne, used to hate ‘how fucking strong the men’s shit is’, used to hate how ‘they all fucking smell the same’. He laughed at that, but shoved the sample under your nose, forcing you to smell it.

You never would’ve admitted then that you didn’t mind it, could never have confessed that you knew it would grow on you. So instead you put on the straightest face you could and deadpanned, “Do you enjoy smelling so strongly of shit?”

The way he guffawed at you then is engraved into the walls of your memories. You’d caught him off guard for the first time in the 6 years you knew him, and it had felt positively glorious. His eyebrows raised, eyes widened and his entire visage lit up, and you thought, ‘well, I don’t mind smelling that if it means I can see this face once more’. And Gods, did you see it. Always the same face, always as a result of a barely half thought out comment.

That stupid cologne gave you such a beautiful core memory- how could you ever hate it? In all the years that passed, you had never once smelled one quite like it. An odd mix of scents; minty clean, but distinctly musky, but also sweet, so fucking sweet.

If you were ever to explain how it felt to smell it, you would describe it as living in a cottage, far removed from everyone, with the one person who made your insides melt, but in a way similar to how a strong breeze felt on a hot day. Truthfully, it’s the only way you could describe it, but that doesn’t mean you won’t get confused glances if you were to everyday it aloud.

The smell was so achingly him, that you haven’t been able to replicate it since. You still have his bottle, half used, but you either spray too little or way too fucking much, never in the right places, and it pisses you off to no end, because it’s just fucking perfume, so why can’t you just fucking get it right? Now all you have is his fading scent on his worn down t-shirts, and pristine suits as they collect dust.

His suits. Thinking about them reminded you of the time he showed you his first one. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to hit him more than you did at that moment. You knew he wasn’t the best with fashion, but you didn’t even know they made suits that bad.

First was the general fit of the suit. He was growing to become so much bigger, and the loose and oversized style of the suit did not do his body justice in any way, shape, or form. Second were the colours. Sure he was hot, but dear god, this man could not pull off cerulean blue and stone. On paper it seemed a good combination, but when on? No.

Third was that god awful tie. As if the blue and off white wasn’t bad enough, the tie was a pale brown (or piss yellow, as you affectionately called it), and leopard print. And to top it off, his shoes were a shade of brown that did not at all match the tie, and looked like they belonged to a 75 year old man. You had never been so inclined to burn a suit.

To your relief (and for the safety of the general population’s eyesight and sanity), the suit was refunded the next day, but you hadn’t stopped bullying him about it. When you had hit 23, he surprised you and wore it to the reception of your wedding, tapping the table twice, with two fingers and a smug smirk. You consequently cried, and threatened to tear the suit off him, and not in a good way.

Your fucking wedding. Almost 5 years ago. Almost 5 years ago when you exchanged bands with the most important man of your life, and he isn’t even here to celebrate your anniversary with you. The thought of it startles you so much that you wake up almost immediately.

You’re still on the sofa, and your neck feels a little stiff as you rise to make yourself something to eat. The sofa’s comfortable though, and you force yourself to throw your blanket off your body, have to fight against your body’s lethargy to make your way to the kitchen.

You’re hungry, and you can’t tell when the last time you ate was. The days all blur together anyways, so you don’t bother keeping tabs on them.

You want something that he makes. Kento always had a talent for making food, and would always treat you to something of his everyday, even if it was just a small salad, or a drink. You missed the way he seasoned his food, how he made something plain taste like something straight out of an expensive restaurant.

He taught you how he cooked food his way, and you taught him how you cooked things your way, but though you followed each other’s instructions, your meals never came out quite the same. Probably the lack of love in it, he argued. The secret ingredient, you teased back.

A low sigh escapes your mouth as you take a microwavable meal from the freezer. You haven’t had the energy to make proper meals for yourself lately, plus, you haven’t mastered being able to make less than 2 servings yet.

As you set up the microwave settings and start it up, you let the hum of it distract you from your mind as you fill a glass of water. Small sips are all you can take right now, so you put it aside and set yourself up to wash the dishes. His mug stays in its place by the fridge.

The microwave beeps seconds after you dry your hands off, and you take some cutlery from your draw, and a plate to put the hot container in. You take it all to the dining table, sit in your seat, and eat in silence.

Though your bites are small, and your sips of water too, you’re still glad you’re eating something; you know he would be concerned about you.

Gods, you don’t want to imagine how much he’s worrying about you. Just thinking about him thinking about you makes you want to lock yourself in your room forever.

Sometimes you can hear him encouraging you to take care of yourself. You know it’s not really him, but you can’t stop yourself from freezing when the wind takes on the properties of his smooth voice, can’t help blinking sadly when it cracks as it says your name.

You want to listen to his voice once more, properly. Listen to his fading accent, to the way he says certain words, to his little quirks. You want to listen to it as he speaks with your head on his chest, want to hear how his heavy heartbeat fuses into his every word.

It’s destroying you.

This stupid fucking mourning process is destroying you, and you’re just moving on pure fucking instinct, because the next thing you know, you’ve finished your food, and washed all the used dishes and cutlery, and you’re already turning the shower on.

You don’t even realise you’ve had a shower until you feel the weight of your makeshift t-shirt towel slip from your head.

And soon enough, you’re curled up in his armchair, with a book in your arms, opened to the first page as you stare at it.

“Hey, Kento,” you shout at him from the kitchen, and he hums, “What book are ya reading today?”

It takes you a few seconds to realise it’s a memory, and the house isn’t brighter, nor is he the one in his armchair.

“Uh, I’m gonna read Two On A Tower. Gotta finish it, don’t I?”

“You got my book out too?”

“Yup, ‘course I do,” and he grins at you as you emerge from the kitchen, two mugs of tea in hands as you place them down on the coffee table. Before you go to take your seat on the sofa beside the armchair, you lean down to him as he pecks your cheek, then angles your face to connect your lips together, and, as usual, it makes you melt.

When you pull back, he smiles. When you take your seat, open your book, and feel his cool touch on the nape of your neck, it’s your turn to smile.

That was how most nights were carried out. The two of you reading with some tea, and sometimes a nice record on in the background. Some nights one, or both, of you would have work to catch up on, some nights you were both out of the house.

Usually when you were out of the house, there was a small selection of what you’d do. A restaurant, either posh or casual, a nightclub (disliked by both of you, to be fair), or a funfair, if one was close. He’d carry the huge plushies you’d win, and wear a fluffy headband that matched with the one you’d wear. Though most of the plushies and accessories ended up going to Yuuji and his friends, it was still fun to win them, and definitely worth it to see him in such a cute headband, with his messy ‘night hair’.

On the nights when you weren’t busy, when you were both in the house, when you were both feeling a little too lovesick, you’d find him putting one of his jazz vinyls on, before making his way over to you, placing his big hands on your waist, pulling you to him as you lock your arms over his shoulders. Your noses would touch, but neither of you would make an effort to press your lips together, instead, focusing on the intimacy of your bodies rocking together.

He used to be a terrible dancer until you dragged him to a dancing club while in school. Then he’d practice with you as often as he could, even when you had long left the club. He’d soon become one of the best dancers you’d met, though he was only ever good at traditional styles of it.

You miss it. So, maybe that’s why you’re rising from your seat, and putting his favourite vinyl into the player, putting the needle onto the record and stepping back into the centre of your living room, pretending like he’s with you, like he’s the one you’re throwing your arms around, one last time.

You can feel his breath on your skin, smell the faint mint and wine, and see his every imperfection as he stands before you. To feel his hands around you one last time, you would do anything. But for now, your imagination is supplying you well, but working completely off memory, and perhaps that’s why his nose is perfectly straight, why his eyes are plain brown, why he has no stubble.

“Ken, it’s almost midnight; why aren’t you home yet? Are you working overtime again? It’s okay, just please call me, and make sure you get home safe. I adore you.”

Your words bounce around in your head like a fucking tennis match, tearing at the walls of your memories, until they all break loose and you’re drowning, and you cannot fucking breathe.

He’s not in front of you anymore. Fuck that, nothing is in front of you anymore. You can’t see shit, and the music has stopped, and you’re not standing anymore, and you’re on your knees on the floor, and, fuck, there is no fucking floor, and everything is happening all at once, and there’s no break between any of your memories, and some are happening at the same time, and, you’re fucking choking trying to regain your breath.

You scream. Though it comes out in a sob, it’s still a scream, because you can see him. He’s in front of you again, but at what cost? Because now, he’s covered in blood, and he looks like he’s in so much fucking pain. You don’t want to think about how his car isn’t parked next to yours anymore, hasn’t been for months.

He crouches in front of you and you lift your chin to face him. His favourite coat. Stone wool with sky blue lining, imported from Italy. And now, it’s ruined, covered in his blood. He smiles at you.

You knew you were crying, felt the irritating run of your tears down your neck, but his smile manages to force so much more of them from your eyes.

The speckles of gold in his eyes seem to sparkle that little bit more, and the crows feet at the corner of them deepen with his smile, and you know what it means. You remember the first time you saw it, on your honeymoon in Kuantan, and you haven't forgotten it since.

I adore you.

And that he does, and you know he does. You know that he does in every single life, you know because you adore him too.

You’ve adored him since 11 in this life, adored him since 15 in your last. And you’ll continue to adore him, even if it’s for three decades, a month, or a day. Hell, even if it’s for an hour, a minute, a second.

You adore him, always have always will, but that doesn’t mean that you don’t despise the way he’s taken away from you in every life you’ll ever live.

Because, though you’re soulmates, through and through, though your hearts are bound together by a tough red string, though you’re made for each other, you’re both cursed.

And nothing escapes a curse, so you’re forced to relive a tragedy again, and again, whether you know that it’s your 72nd life or not.

The heavens have cursed you to relive a different life over and over, as it all ends in the same way. Him gone, and you alone, to pick up the pieces of a shattered heart. To fight is futile, but to rise? It could very well be that your 73rd life together could be the one to free you both, forever.

You look up, and the room is back to normal, moonlight cascading through glass. You’re on your knees, and your breathing pattern is crooked, but you can feel the floor.

Kento’s gone.

But above you is his picture. And he grins.

73 is a lucky number for eternity.

remember, my taglist is in my pinned, and constructive criticism and questions are encouraged! thank you for reading<3

© devilstempt on tumblr/90SEOUL on ao3, 2021, do not repost/copy/plagiarise any of my works.

[lovesickarmin]

Mine (Armin x Reader)

Pairing: Dom Armin x Reader (fem. bodied)

Summary: Your boss, Armim Arlert, said he wanted to keep things between you professional. So why is his hand on your thigh?

Word Count: 4.4K

Warnings: dubcon, degradation, praise, public sex, exhibitionism, impact play (spanking), dacryphilia, oral (f. and m. receiving), fingering, power imbalance/dynamics, unprotected sex, creampie

A/N: this is my contribution to @lacheri's moonlight muse collab event. congratulations on hitting 1k cherry! ily so much <3

When you had let it slip to your boss that you were interested in him, he said he didn’t reciprocate your feelings. He let you down easy of course, it’s Armin Arlert. He said you were sweet and even told you he thought you were a beautiful girl. But being that he’s the head of the department you work for, he wanted to keep your relationship professional. And you believed him.

However, you noticed that you had seen him more often around the office after your slip up. He started stopping by your cubicle every day, asking how your day was or how your reports were coming along. He began staying later than usual and walking you to your car as well, going as far as opening and closing your car door for you. And he was the one who personally invited you to go out for drinks with everyone in the office tonight.

You justified the recent influx in his attention by assuming it was a product of his naturally friendly disposition. You thought he simply wanted to make sure you knew he wasn’t uncomfortable around you.

Now you’re sat next to the blonde at the end of a table in the diner one of your coworkers, Sasha, had begged you all to go to. She insisted that you all go to sober up after drinking your paychecks away at the various bars you had visited.

Marley’s Diner is a small eatery that’s open 24 hours a day, and is apparently the go-to for most of your coworkers. You’ve seen their take-away bags in the break room more times than you can count, but you hadn’t been here yourself before. You would still be able to say that if it weren’t for Armin persuading you to join them.

“How can you enjoy your weekend if you’re hungover for half of it? Let’s get some food in you, yeah?”

You’re halfway through your stack of pancakes, and laughing at the story your friend and coworker, Jean, is telling when you feel Armin’s hand on your thigh. You look over to him, assuming he’s trying to get your attention. But his eyes are set ahead of him. He looks like he’s engrossed in a conversation happening at the other end of the table between Eren and Mikasa.

“Sir?” you whisper, the confusion you feel evident in your tone.

He slides his hand further up your thigh until it’s under the hem of your skirt. He swipes his thumb back and forth, causing you to almost choke on the bite you had just taken. You look down and watch the fabric of your skirt move as he trails his finger tips from the top to your inner thigh. You gasp quietly when he squeezes the flesh gently.

You look back over at him, and your eyes widen when you see him smirking. He kneads the soft flesh as he inches higher and higher up your leg. You start to hear your heartbeat in your ears and for a moment you wonder if he can hear it too.

Your mind is going a mile a minute. All your thoughts are jumbled and fuzzy, and you only have those shots of tequila from earlier to thank. A part of you is telling you that you should push his hand away. It’s telling you that you should leave, chalk it up to him being drunk, and go to HR on Monday. That’s what you should do, right?

But the other part of you is screaming at you to stay, to open your legs for him, to give him whatever it is he wants from you. You’ve wanted him ever since he introduced himself to you during your interview, as soon as his ocean blue eyes met yours. He was clearly ready to abandon his stance on keeping your relationship professional, so why can’t you?

His eyes flick over to look at yours, asking a silent question that you already know the answer to. You know what you want. So, you keep your eyes on his as you adjust yourself in your chair, opening your legs just a bit wider. The corner of his mouth quirks up slightly as he takes the opportunity to graze his finger tips against your clothed cunt.

“I’ve barely touched you and you’re soaked," he mumbles, "That's pretty pathetic."

After sliding his fingers up and down the wet lace a few times, he focuses his attention on your clit. He rubs small circles through your panties, his eyes trained on your face. You try your best to appear unfazed. As fuzzy as your mind is, you’re still aware that you’re surrounded by your coworkers in the middle of a restaurant. But when he suddenly pinches the sensitive bundle of nerves, you let out a small whimper. Your eyes widen and you feel your cheeks heat up when the few sat around you turn to look at you.

“You good?” Connie asks, mouth full of his omelet.

“Yeah! S-Sorry, I just um—my stomachs just a little uneasy.”

You’re met by sympathetic looks before they turn away from you to continue the conversations they were having before. Armin doesn’t let up, instead adding a bit more pressure as he circles your clit faster. You bite on your bottom lip to try to stop any noises from escaping.

“Pull yourself together,” he whispers.

“Armin… why are you doing this?”

He leans in, and you feel his breath on your neck as he confesses, “I didn’t appreciate seeing you throw yourself at Kirstein earlier.”

Your eyes widen, and your confusion doubles. Jean took you under his wing when you were first hired on, and you became fast friends. Of course you spent most of the night with him. You were still relatively new to the company, and he was the person you felt the most comfortable around. It’s true that you two had drank and danced with each other throughout the night, but it was all platonic. At least to you is was.

To Armin though, it was obvious that it wasn’t. He noticed everything. He saw how Jeans hands grabbed at you while you danced with him, and the way his eyes traveled over your body when you weren’t looking. The way you had smiled and bit your lip when Jean whispered in your ear made him feel sick. And he hated it.

His perceptiveness was something that benefited him before. It was what made him notice the way you sat up straighter in your chair when he entered the office, how you would be in the breakroom the same time he went in for this morning coffee every day, the way your eyes never left his when he held a meeting. Now it only aided in his jealousy. He knew he shouldn’t be bothered by it since he was the one who turned you down. But you weren’t supposed to give up so easily.

“’I can’t believe you’re not married sir, you’re so handsome’,” he says as he slides your panties to the side, “Isn’t that what you said just last week?” You close your eyes, the feeling of him touching you without the barrier of your panties leaves you feeling delirious. “And then I see you all over Jean tonight. What am I supposed to think of that?”

“It wasn’t like that I just—” you cut yourself off when his middle and ring finger slide down and tease your opening.

“Just what? Decided to be a little slut?” his voice lowers, “I reject you, so you move on to the first guy that bats an eye at you?”

You shake your head no and look up at him with half-lidded eyes, “No, m’not a slut, I swear.”

“Really? I find that hard to believe,” he leans closer, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear, “You’re the one spreading your legs for me in front of all your friends.”

Before you can reply, he slides his fingers into your cunt. You grip the sides of your chair, nails digging into the wood as you try your best to keep your composure. He curls his finger as he pumps them in and out of you, grazing against spots of you that you didn’t know existed.

Armin’s jaw clenches as he tries his best not to lose himself in your perfect pussy. He can’t help but think about how your velvety walls would feel around his cock. He quickens his pace, keeping his eyes on your face and smiling to himself when he sees you desperately trying to keep it together.

You feel a familiar pressure building in your core and your mind is starting to go blank. You’re right on the edge, about to experience total euphoria when you jerk your knee and hit it against the underside of the table. Armin’s fingers still when the man he was resentful of only an hour or so ago turns to look at you.

“Hey, are you okay?” Jean asks, genuine concern written across his face.

“Yeah, I—”

“Maybe you should go outside for some fresh air,” Armin interjects, curling his fingers to graze against a particularly sensitive part of you as he slowly pulls them out of you, “I’ll go with you.”

You nod your head and adjust your panties before standing up, smiling at Jean as you leave the table. Armin places one of his hands on the small of your back as he walks with you towards the entrance. He holds the door for you and you step out into the cool night air. You let him guide you around the side of the building, keeping your eyes downcast to avoid tripping on any uneven patches in the sidewalk. Once you’re halfway down the small alley nestled between the diner and the store next to it, he stops. You turn to fully face him, and feel your cheeks heat up. The alley way is void of any street lights, instead only being lit by the giant neon red “Marleys Diner” sign above you.

As soon as you go to ask him why this was all happening, his lips are on yours. One of his hands grips onto your waist as the other cradles the back of your head. He backs you up until your back hits the brick wall of the diner.

Kissing Armin isn’t how you imagined it to be at all. It’s not soft or gentle. It’s desperate. His tongue slips past your parted lips and entangles itself with yours. He moans into your mouth and you feel the vibrations in your chest. You grab at his shirt, pulling him closer to you. Your bodies are pressed flush against each other, but neither of you feel like it’s close enough.

He breaks the kiss first, eliciting a whine from you that’s soon replaced by soft sighs as he leaves a trail of kisses along your jaw and down your neck. He alternates between biting and sucking on the sensitive skin, leaving dark marks as his nimble fingers work to unbutton your blouse.

You lean your head back against the cold brick wall and squeeze your thighs together, desperate to feel some kind of friction between your thighs. Armin finishes unbuttoning your shirt and he pulls the cups of your bra down, exposing your tits to the frigid night air. He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, twirling his tongue around the hardened bud. He takes the other between his fingers, twisting and pulling softly.

“Oh, god…” you whimper, running your fingers through his hair.

He eventually switches side, leaving wet kisses and more love bites along the valley between your breasts. You moan when he bites down on your nipple, the pain morphing into pleasure instantaneously.

“Armin, please,” you say, your voice trembling just above a whisper.

He looks up at you through dark lashes and the look in his eyes intensifies the throbbing between your thighs. If time wasn’t an issue, he’d make you tell him exactly what you want down to the last detail. But he thinks you’ve been so good for him so far. The least he could do was go easy on you, at least for now. He moves his lips up your chest and neck until he’s placing soft kisses on your lips.

“It’s okay, baby,” he mumbles against your lips, “I’ll make you feel good.”

He takes a step away from you. His hands delve under your skirt and he slides off your soaked panties, stuffing them in his back pocket as he gets on his knees. You look down at him with wide eyes as he grabs ahold of one of your calves, and guides it over his shoulder. He starts to suck and bite more marks onto your inner thigh, moving closer and closer to your core. When you no longer feel his lips on you you look down to see his eyes fixed on your dripping cunt.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he breathes, “All for me, yeah?”

“Mhmm,” you hum, “S’all yours Min…”

He can feel his dick strain against the confines of his pants. He wants nothing more than to split you open on his cock, but he knows this might be the only chance he gets to have you. And he’s not going to walk away from this without knowing how you taste.

Armin uses his thumbs to spread your folds apart before he licks a slow line from your entrance to your clit. He moans in complete satisfaction, sending little vibrations through your core. You taste even better than he thought you would. He doesn’t waste any more time, swirling his tongue around your clit before sucking lightly. Your hands grab his hair, pulling his face closer to you. He dips his tongue into your hole, his nose nudging against your puffy clit as you grind against his face.

“Fuck, Min… just like that,” you moan, moving your hips faster against his face.

One of his hands squeezes your thigh just below your ass, pulling you even closer to him. He moans into you, tongue flat against your cunt while you move back and forth against him at a fervent pace, his hand guiding you across his face as you fuck his tongue, chasing your high.

You feel the same pressure building up in your core as before when you were at the table. You try your hardest to not be too loud. Being that it’s so late, the normally bustling streets are asleep. The only noises are the muffled sounds of life from the diner behind you, and the lewd slurping noises Armin’s making.

“I’m s-so close, oh my god… don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you beg.

You both keep your pace as you finally reach your peak. You throw your head back against the wall, letting out high pitches moans as pure ecstasy radiates through you. When he feels your grip on his hair lessen, he slows his pace to a stop. He gently moves your leg off his shoulder and waits until you find your balance before he stands up.

Once he’s eye level with you, he grabs you by your jaw, crashing his slick-coated lips onto yours. When he pulls away from you, his grip tightens.

“You’re such a pretty girl,” he coos, eyes darkening as he tilts your face from side to side, admiring you from every angle, “Think you’d be even prettier on your knees.”

You smile at him and he lets go of you. You slowly fall to your knees, the pavement you’re resting on hurts as it scrapes against you, but you couldn’t care less when Armin’s looking at you like you’re a fucking goddess.

You undo his belt and unzip his pants, pushing them down so they rest just above his knees. Your eyes widen when you see the tent in his boxers. You grab ahold of the waistband and pull them down slowly, freeing his leaking member. You look up at him through your lashes as you take him in your hand. You stick out your tongue, letting your spit dribble down onto his swollen head before you start to give him languid pumps.

“Oh my god…” he moans, placing one of his hands on the wall behind you and looking down at you through low-lidded eyes. His chest rises and falls with the anticipation of feeling you take him down your throat.

You smile up at him as you press your tongue to the underside of his cock, licking a stripe from the base to the tip. You swirl you tongue around the tip, making his head lull to the side and rest on his shoulder. His free hand pushes your hair out of your face. The pads of his fingers graze over your scalp before he takes a handful of your hair in his fist. He guides your head back and forth as you suck on the tip, gently urging you to take him further.

“You look so fucking hot like this, sweetheart,” he groans, his grip on your hair tightening.

He lets out a high-pitched whine when you suddenly bottom out, taking as much of him in your mouth as possible, using your hand to pump what you couldn’t fit comfortably. Armin can’t hold back anymore. His hips buck forward, pushing himself further into your mouth each time. You relax your jaw, letting him fuck deeper into your throat. You gag when he makes you take all of him, your nose brushing against the soft skin of his lower abdomen.

"Feels so good. You're doing so well, such a-- ah-- g-good girl for me," he moans.

Armin whines your name over and over, his soft whimpers a stark contrast to the harsh way he’s fucking your mouth. Your vison starts to blur and you can feel tears falling down your cheeks as you look up at him. He wants more than anything to cum down your throat, but he forces himself to pull you off of him just before he does, determined to hold off for your sweet cunt.

As soon as he pulls away from you you gasp for air, not having realized how long you had been holding your breath. You rest your hands on Armin’s thighs as you catch your breath. After a few moments he tilts your face up to look at him.

“You gonna let me fuck you, baby?” he asks, wiping the spit off your chin, “They’re gonna be wondering what’s taking us so long. Might come lookin’. You don’t want them to see you like this, do you?”

You feel your face heat up at the thought of someone seeing you together like this. Your eyes dart to the entrances of the alley way, feeling a strange mixture of relief and disappointment when you see no one around. Armin chuckles as he offers you a hand. You place your hand in his and he helps you get to your feet.

“C’mon now, it’s a bit late to get all shy, don’t you think?” he pulls you closer to him, placing a soft kiss to you lips, “Now turn around, and bend over.”

You do as your told, facing the wall and placing both hands on the rough surface. You step backwards, arching your back and pushing your ass out. You look over your shoulder at Armin, only to see him stroking himself as he pushes up your skirt, bunching it at your waist.

One of his hands grabs onto your hip as he slides his cock between your folds. He nudges the head against your clit, making you ball your hands into fists. He continues to rock his hips, letting your essence and his precum slicken his cock. He chuckles when you try to rub back against him.

“A-armin, please,” you whimper, spreading your legs further apart and arching your back further, “Want you inside me.”

“Be patient, baby.”

You whine and squeeze your eyes shut. When he nudges your clit a few more times, you can’t take anymore. You reach between your legs, and grab ahold of his cock. You try to position him at your entrance, but let go when you feel his hand come down on your ass. You yelp, jolting closer to the wall when he spanks you again and again.

“I said,” another spank, “be,” another, “fucking,” and another, “patient.”

You feel tears welling up, and your pussy throbbing, with each hit. He grabs a handful of your hair with his other hand, pulling you backwards so that your back is to his chest.

“You were being so good for me before,” he whispers, his ear ghosting over the shell of your ear, “This greedy, little pussy is thinking for you now, huh?”

“I’m s-sorry…” you whimper in between hiccups, tears overflowing down your cheeks.

“You want my cock that bad?” he asks, and you nod your head erratically. “Then beg.”

“Please, Armin. Need you so bad, I c-can’t take it anymore… please fuck me. Please, please, please, I—”

You cut yourself off when he plunges inside you, gasping for air. He groans when he feels how you clench around him. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust to his size, instead slamming into you over and over, his thighs hitting against the back of yours. He lets go of your hair, letting you fall forward to hold yourself up.

“God, you’re so fucking tight— shit.”

It’s almost too much for Armin. The sound of your pussy squelching every time he fucks into you mixed with your shameless moans, the feeling of you fluttering and clenching around him, the way your ass ripples every time his hips hit against it.

“Fuck, Min, s’too much,” you whine, nails digging into your palms.

“You were just saying how much you needed my cock, sweetheart. So you’re gonna fucking take it, yeah? Gonna be a good girl for me?”

The pressure in your core is building at a fervent speed. Your moans become choked sobs as he pounds into you. A string of curses and his name fall off your tongue, almost like a mantra. His hands find refuge on your hips, pulling you back as he thrusts forward. Every thrust pushes you further and further until you’re teetering on the edge.

“Oh fuck— Min I’m gonna c-cum,” you choke out.

“Jesus fuck, yeah baby? Cum for me, cum on my fucking cock,” He groans as he pulls you back towards him harder, his fingers digging into your skin at a bruising force.

One of his hands snakes around your waist until it’s between your thighs. He presses two of his fingers against your clit, circling the swollen bud. The extra stimulation has you falling face first off the ledge. You practically scream when you feel the first wave of pleasure pulse through you. Thankfully the hand that was left on your hip quickly makes its way to cover your mouth, muffling your voice and pulling you back so your back is to his chest again.

He can feel you sucking him deeper inside of you, your perfect little cunt trying to milk him dry. His nudges his face in the crook of your neck as he fucks you through your orgasm, chasing his own release. It’s when you turn your head and his eyes meet yours that he finally cums. He chants your name like a prayer as he paints your walls with spurts of white.

His hips eventually still, but his fingers still rub soft circles into your clit, helping your come down from the high you were still experiencing. Once you’ve started to calm down, he removes his hands from your mouth and cunt, placing them on your hips as he pulls out of you. He stumbles back slightly, and spreads your folds to watch his cum drip out of you and onto the pavement below.

He makes quick work out of tucking himself back into his boxers and pulling his pants up as you lean breathless against the wall of the diner. You close your eyes, exhaustion finally washing over you with the loss of adrenaline. Your eyes flutter open when you feel the warmth of his hands as he cradles your face.

“You did so good for me, beautiful,” he coos, “Took me so well.”

“Thank you,” you mumble, the corners of your mouth stretching into a small smile.

He kisses all over your face gently, and takes you in his arms. You melt into him, your face burrowing into his chest. You breathe in his cologne, the warm woody scent relaxing you. His strong arms wrap around your waist, and his chin rests on top of your head. He lets you both indulge in one another for a few minutes before he pulls away from you.

His eyes scan all over your form, and he can’t help but laugh. You’re a mess from head to toe. He smooths out your hair and buttons up your blouse. He tries in vain to gently rub off the mascara that’s smudged around your eyes. But he knows there’s nothing he can do to rid the countless lovebites that cover your neck, chest, and thighs. Or the scrapes on your knees.

“I’m gonna need you to stay here for me,” he says, kissing you softy.

“Hmm? Why?” you ask, pouting your lips and furrowing your brow.

He kisses you again, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look thoroughly fucked out,” he mumbles against your lips.

You feel your cheeks heat up and you look down towards your feet as you let out a small “Oh…”

“Stop that,” he says, tilting your face up, “You’re gorgeous. I just don't want anyone else having the honor of seeing you like this," you feel a fluttering in your stomach and feel the heat in your cheeks increase, "I’m just going to grab our things, and let them know we’re leaving.”

“Wait, I didn’t pay for—”

“I’ll take care of it, sweetheart. Just stay here and look pretty.”

You bite your lip and giggle as he walks away. It’s only a few moments later when he’s rounding the corner. He hands you your phone and purse, wrapping his coat around your shoulders simultaneously. Armin wraps an arm around your waist as he leads you towards the street he parked on. When you reach his car, he opens the passenger door for you. You start to part your lips to protest, about to tell him how your car is only a few blocks away when he cuts you off.

“I’m taking you back to my place,” he states simply, almost like he was reading your mind, “I thought we could talk about all of this over breakfast tomorrow,” he glances down at his watch, the bright 4:13AM on the screen causing him to furrow his brow before looking back at you, “Well, maybe over lunch.”

You smile and plant a soft kiss to his cheek, “Whatever you say, sir.”

[pennylanewrites]

all the things he said | megumi fushiguro

pairing: megumi fushiguro x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluffy smut, and some more angst

word count: 2k maybe?

cw + tags: high school sweethearts to strangers to kinda lovers, reader has a hip tattoo, alcohol, smoking, awkward breakup talk, public sex, no prep, unprotected sex, sand in places it shouldn’t be 😳

a/n: my piece for @lacheri 's moonlight muse collab! both megumi and reader are 22+

jjk masterlist

you truly wondered if it was possible to be so happy and sad at the same time.

your hard work for your degree was finished and your college days would be over after this night.

a midnight bonfire down by the beach sounds exciting, right? yet you couldn’t help but feel that something was missing from you.

“ugh, look at him. i can’t stand him.” your friend stood by your side, handing you a drink in a plastic cup.

“i can.” you sighed, turning to look at him.

his arms wrapped around his two best friends, yuuji and nobara, and a lighthearted smile on his face even as he turned to look your way. your heart skipped a beat and you gave him a small wave, not expecting him to return it.

it was your first interaction in four whole years, after all.

“incoming.” your friend warned you and you turned your head again to see megumi walk your way. you turned around and downed whatever liquid was in your cup, discarding it in your friend’s hand and gently shoving them away.

“hey there.” megumi patted your back as you coughed at the sudden burning in your throat.

“i-i’m good. hey.” you wiped a tear away and looked up at him when your breathing had been stabilized. “long time no see.”

“we see each other every day.” he reminded you that your schedule was practically the same, other than one period. your cheeks turned red and you chuckled awkwardly.

“long time no talk then. so how are-”

“how are-” you both cut each other off, laughing it off awkwardly as you nodded your head for the ravenette to speak.

“fine, i guess? this all feels melancholic.”

“yeah, we’re all going our own ways after this, huh?” you sighed, looking to the group of people dancing, playing in the sand, even swimming.

“wanna take a walk?” he offered, and you accepted, both of you taking your shoes in your hands as you headed for the shoreline.

“have you had any job offers yet?”

“i have, it’s too much work to go through all those emails though.” you shrugged and megumi turned with wide eyes.

“wow, that doesn’t sound like you.”

“eh, i guess i have changed a bit.”

“still beautiful as ever.” he whispered, a blush spreading on his freckled nose. you paused walking and almost let out a gasp, but continued like nothing happened.

“what about you?”

“i’m going to work with gojo.” your heart felt like something tightened around it when you remembered that gojo satoru lived in the states.

“oh, so you’re moving? to the states, i mean.”

“actually, he’s moving back here.”

“o-oh.” you cleared your throat and sat down on the sand, far enough from the shoreline that only your toes got wet from the easy waves. megumi sat next to you and then lain down facing the sky.

the sound of a lighting clicking and a cloud of smoke made him sit back up, however.

“what are you doing?” he mumbled, surprised to see you, of all people, with a cigarette between your crimson-painted lips.

“want one?”

“yeah...thanks,” he accepted the cigarette and let you light it for him before leaning to take a better look at you, “why are you smoking?”

“i don’t know.” because of you, idiot. “i guess i wanted to see what people found so addicting.”

both megumi and you found it weird and unfitting, given all the fights you’d have over him smoking. you would never forget the endless hours you begged him to stop, only to lead to a worse fight about something different and so minuscule that it didn’t even make sense.

“so am i the one that should babble your ear off about smoking now?”

“that’s-it’s different when you care for someone.” you sighed and looked away. the burning in your eyes was definitely not from the cloud of gray smoke, and the feeling of a talk about your breakup coming up made your stomach sink.

“i care about you.”

“god, you’re so annoying. why don’t you just fucking leave then, huh? the door is wide open!” his last words to you hit you like a bus, and you couldn’t believe the kind eyes looking at you now could have looked at you with so much hatred at some point.

“i don’t mean like that, fushiguro.”

“i care about you the same way i always have.” he admitted, probably also to himself, because he was just as shocked as you when you met his green eyes.

“fushiguro-”

“don’t call me by my last name.” his voice broke mid-sentence and he looked away, burying his face in his hands.

“then what should i call you?”

“what you always have.”

“ ‘gumi this, ‘gumi that, do you ever shut your mouth? shut up!”

parts of your last conversation played in your head like a broken record. how stupid did you really look when you called him by the silly nickname, even though he apparently despised it?

“so you can yell at me again?” you smiled sadly, deciding to face the sky instead, hoping that would keep your tears at bay.

“i’m so sorry, you know i didn’t-”

“it was four years ago. i don’t care anymore.” you cut him off and got up, but megumi stopped you with a hand wrapped around your ankle.

“we never...talked about it, y/n. we-you...you just left that night!”

“what did you want me to do?”

“stay.”

“i would be stupid to stay with you. you-” you took a deep breath and sat back down, this time with your whole body facing him. “you were horrible to me.”

“i’ve wanted to apologize for so long. i just wanted to make sure i was a better person before i did.”

“are you a better person now?”

“i think so.”

“it’s too late.” you whispered, breaking out in tears. you shoved your face between your propped up knees and tried to calm yourself, but to no avail.

“please don’t cry, please. i wanna make everything better, i will do everything better. i’m so sorry.”

“i hate you for what you said to me.” you cried out and megumi’s expression dropped. hesitantly, he placed an arm on your shoulder. when you didn’t swat him away, he placed his other arm on your head, patting the top of it like he always used to when you were in high-school.

“but i miss you. and i’ll always love you.” you mumbled and looked up slowly, scared to face the man.

“you still love me?”

“does it really matter?”

“yes. because i love you too.”

his eyes glimmered like the stars in the night sky and that sense of hope in them was what made you jump in his arms and bury your face in his neck. the impact made him fall back on the sand, his arms wrapping around your back instinctively.

“there are so many things we have to talk about, but...” you trailed off, too caught up in taking in his face. how did he look the same but so different? the teenage acne was gone, the chubby cheeks and messy eyebrows exchanged for sharp cheekbones and defined black brows. but his lips, oh his pretty pink lips that he chewed on when he was anxious, they looked so damn pretty.

“but?”

“i really want to kiss you right now, megumi.”

“so kiss me.” he breathed out, but didn’t wait for you to do that. instead, he took your face in his hands and smushed your cheeks together, bringing you down for a peck on the lips. you deepened the kiss, and for a moment it felt like everything fell back into place.

kissing megumi was exciting, beautiful, sometimes passionate, but most of all it was normal. not in a boring way, just normal enough that you had to be kissing him every day for the rest of your lives.

“wait, wait-”

“did i do something wrong?” you pulled away with furrowed eyebrows, tears threatening to fall again when you thought he was changing his mind.

“n-no, it’s just...oh, fuck, this is embarrassing.” he sighed and looked up at you.

“just tell me.” you whispered sweetly.

of course you knew already. you had been rubbing up on his boner ever since you felt it.

“i-i have a boner.” he muttered.

“oh? out here? do you get off on the risk?” you teased, looking past him to the crowd. they were so far that you couldn’t make out who was who anymore, and you doubted anyone would walk up to you any time soon.

“i’m sorry! this is so inappropriate and i would-” you kissed his cheek softly to shut him up, before moving down to his ear.

“megumi, i want you to fuck me. please.” you whispered and you swore something awoke in him, because he flipped you to be side to side on the sand with him, and sealed your lips with his in seconds.

“are you sure? i don’t have any-”

“i’m on birth control.” you said, eagerly unbuckling his belt as he pulled your long skirt, bunching it up on your hips.

his eyes fell on the red mark on the skin of your hip, right under the string of your underwear. he brushed a finger over it, making you shiver.

“bite me?” he chuckled.

“oh, that old thing. i’ll explain later.”

i got it the night i got blind drunk after our breakup.

“okay.” he breathed against your lips before kissing you again. softly, deeply as you took his cock out of its confines. you gave him one slow stroke, two, three before he groaned against your mouth.

his fingers toyed with your clit over the damp skin of your underwear, feeling you get wetter as he fastened the pace.

“i want you now.” you begged, pulling your underwear to the side and shifting closer, close the minuscule space between the two of you.

“a-are you sure? it will hurt.”

“i’m sure!” you groaned in frustration and kissed his pretty lips again. you gasped against his mouth when you felt the tip of his cock slowly pushing past your slip.

megumi held you tighter, moving to kiss your neck instead as he slowly fit more and more of his length inside you. a moan escaped past your lips when you felt him bottom out, and you rutted your hips against his in a desperate attempt to feel more of him.

slow rocks of his hips became faster, shallow thrusts that hit just right on your sweet spot, sending you in a daze where all you could hear was your own voice chanting megumi, megumi.

“i love you. i love you so much, y/n.” he whispered in your ear, moving up to kiss your lips. it didn’t matter that your teeth bumped against each other, nor that you almost bit his tongue off, because it was perfect. like it always was meant to be.

“i love you, ‘gumi -hah fuck- you’re so good!” you babbled incoherent words as he fucked you harder, the grip around your waist getting tighter as he held you in place.

“i’m close, i’m...fuck, don’t squeeze me like-like that.”

“inside me, please? please, ‘gumi i wanna feel all of you!” you cried out and he swore he saw stars in your eyes as you faced him, urging him to come faster.

soft pants filled your ears as he came, filling you up with his warm cum, not moving to pull out.

“megumi,”

“no, just...can we stay like this for a moment?” he smiled when you nodded and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, holding you against his chest. “i wish i could have done so many things better. i’m so sorry.”

“it’s okay.” you mumbled. “but there’s sand in my butt crack.”

“way to ruin the moment.” he mumbled and pulled out, some of his cum spilling on your thighs as he helped you up. “let’s swim.”

“okay.” you nodded and took your skirt and shirt off, leaving them with your shoes. he did the same and followed you in the cold water, the waves splashing around you making you shiver.

“come here.” he wrapped his arms around you and you pulled your legs around his torso as well, content with listening to his heartbeat and his steady breath. “i’ll always love you.”

“i’ll always love you too.”

what megumi knew and you knew too, but he thought you didn’t, was that this would be the last time you would see him.

gojo satoru never moved back to japan after all.

tagging: @jeansmainhoe @earlesskitten @ackermanslutsstuff @isabel2you

[chaotic-nick]

Headcanons | Multifics | other Miche writers| Miche Week 2021

Updated on: 30th July, 2022 | Sorted by: Newest to Oldest

Current number of Miche wips: Too many to count; 9 (a rough number tbh)

Hug you harder

Plot: It's different this year, and it makes a huge difference to you two.

’A punch to the heart’

Plot: Boxer/ fighter! Miche was sure that he met his future wife then and there.

‘Routine’ (NSFW)

Plot: Reader's a camgirl that ruins Miche's daily routine.

Miche Zacharias Week 2021

About: A collection of one shots that I posted for MIche week from 1st November- 7th November

“ I Have A Million ” Forbidden Collab

Plot: Both your families hate each other, and he's the first in their generation to apologise to yours. Or that's what you may think.

“ Hey Miche ” Moonlight Muse Collab

Plot: it's the night before your wedding, and your fiance is sitting at your window wanting to spend one last date as a boyfriend and girlfriend. You have other plans though.

'Chai' Multiple characters (hint of a Miche x Reader at the end)

Written for the vets day collab, super self indulgent too.

“Tomato Soup for the Soul ” Fodders Java Shop Collab

AU: Modern/ Reincarnation Feat: SK8 the infinity

Plot: A new patron at the restaurant sparks your curiosity.

“My College Romance Movie” Meet Cute Collab entry

College AU

Plot: Every day Miche escapes to the library for peace, that is until you come in, violently tapping his patience through your keyboard.

Mister Zacharias (Part 1) (Part 2-nsfw)

Plot: Set in the pandemic, a divorced Miche helps out his older neighbours in their everyday lives. Until he meets their granddaughter who moves back in.

[fairyfuyu]

strawberry kiss | yuuji itadori

paring: yuuji itadori x gn!reader

wc: 1.4k

summary: this is my submission for @lacheri's moonlight muse collab ! reader and itadori go out to a midnight showing of a classic horror movie :) slice of life, implied childhood best friends to lovers ? idk itadori is just a lil cutie

cw: none ! purely soft itadori and fluff

a/n: inspired by true events aka i miss going to midnight showings w my friends :( i recommend listening to the song chapstick by hippo campus :) a freaking banger but also it just fits the story so well slkcjxi i promise

Your eyes scanned along the shelves packed with brightly colored packaging, looking for the specific candy you were craving tonight. Growing saddened the longer you looked, you heard the voice of your best friend from one aisle over.

“___! They make sour gummy worms now?!” He exclaimed excitedly, instantly grabbing a bag.

You chuckled, seeing his smile over the top of the shelf, directly opposite you. “Pretty sure they’ve always made sour gummy worms, Itadori.”

He scoffed, making his way to join you on your side. “Well, excuse me for not having a sugar addiction like you.” You just rolled your eyes, turning back to resume your search for the seemingly elusive candy. He followed your gaze. “Whatcha looking for?”

“Those fruity candies I got last time; can’t remember the name for the life of me, but they were pretty good.” You explained, strolling down the aisle and making sure to thoroughly examine either side.

“Just get some sour gummy worms like me.” He offered, holding out the rainbow packaging for you to see.

You shook your head. “Not in the mood for sour candy.” Deciding that your search was pointless, you decided on snatching up a pack of strawberry licorice.

Yuuji scrunched his face in disgust. “You’re gonna get strawberry when there’s cherry staring right at you?”

“What, don’t tell me you don’t like the taste of strawberries?” He remained tight lipped, trailing behind you up to the counter to pay, earning an exasperated laugh from you. “You have to be the only person that doesn’t like strawberries.”

“I know for a fact that’s not true.’ He laughed, placing his candy and drink on the counter.

Once the two of you paid for your things (and subsequently shoved them into your tote bag to sneak into your next destination because the prices of snacks in theaters should truly be illegal), you stumbled out into the dark, empty street. The midnight air was crisp, undoubtedly autumn for sure. Dim streetlamps did a pretty shitty job of illuminating the sidewalk you and your friend wandered down; if it weren’t for the presence of Yuuji, you wouldn’t even think about strolling down a street like this one at this hour.

The two of you have known each other since you were in diapers practically, living two houses apart and taking on your schooling experiences together. However with university, you ended up in two different cities - although they weren’t too far from each other thankfully. This has become a weekly affair since the semester started; with you still in your hometown, Yuuji would drive the hour it took to meet you, and the two of you would go to the old dollar theater on the other side of town to see whatever midnight showing they had on Fridays.

And so, here you were, eyes lighting up at the sight of the theater marquee. The neon cast a pretty purple sheen on the two of you as you walked up to the ticket booth outside. Yuuji made sure to be right by your side in order to try and conceal the obviously stuffed bag you were carrying. “Two for the midnight showing of Nightmare on Elm Street, please.” He sang sweetly.

The disinterested teen didn’t even look up from his phone while he grabbed the bills from Yuuji’s hand. He placed the small tickets in front of him. “Theater 2.”

You and your friend eagerly entered the dingy lobby, averting your gaze from the girl behind the concessions counter, who appeared just as bored as the ticket guy. The theater’s interior was astonishingly sad; the beige paint covering the walls was definitely not the best pairing to the stained carpet beneath your feet, but for some reason you and Yuuji found this place incredibly charming. The movies were cheap, the theaters were always empty...it was as if this was your own little secret getaway, and you were so glad to have a friend like him willing to drive out every week to make sure you didn’t lose touch like many people do when they begin college.

As always, you found your way into the empty theater, heading straight for the same pair of seats you two occupy week after week, right in the center of the sea of deserted seats.

“Hurry up, I wanna try those sour gummy worms since apparently I’m so behind on my candy lore.” Yuuji impatiently said as you took your seat.

“Patience is a virtue, Itadori.” You replied in mock seriousness, easily finding his candy and drink in your bag. He eagerly tore open the bag, throwing a couple of the multi-colored gummies in his mouth. You gave him a quizzical look. "Verdict?"

"Happily satisfied." He replied cheerily, eating another.

By the time the two of you got settled, snacks splayed out across your laps, the movie had started. That nostalgic dull hum of the film reel was barely present in the background, and the entirety of your time there was spent commentating on the 80’s cinematography and how cheesy it was. It was hilarious to both of you; despite the movie intending on being a horror flick, you couldn’t help but belly laugh at the overdramatic sound effects and ridiculous zoom-ins for no reason whatsoever.

“You think I could pull off a crop top better than Johnny Depp?” Yuuji asked, popping another candy into his mouth.

You couldn’t help the boisterous laugh you let out at his question. “Well, they do say to speak what you want into existence.”

“Oh do they now?” He teased, nudging your shoulder.

“They do.” You replied, biting back a smile. Doing so made you realize just how chapped your lips had become from the chilly air outside. You were fairly sure you had some chapstick in your bag, always on you just in case.

Rummaging through the bag, you had a difficult time finding it due to the dim lighting in the theater.

Yuuji caught on to your struggle, and asked, “What are you looking for?”

“My lips are chapped as hell; I’m sure I have lip balm in here somewhere.” He immediately pulled out his phone, turning on the flashlight and holding it up to offer some assistance. You smiled softly up at him. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Your search was successful with the help of the extra light, finding a tube of strawberry chapstick at the very bottom of your tote. Quickly applying it, you turned your attention back to the movie. You were at the point in the movie where Johnny Depp’s character was about to get killed. “Yeah, you could definitely pull off a crop top, though I’m not sure if you’d look better than him…”

He shot you a playful glare for your teasing. “Do I need to wear a crop top next week just to prove you wrong? Because you know I will if that’s what it takes.”

You looked at your best friend, pressing your lips into a grin. “I’d be glad to give you one of mine.”

The two of you held eye contact for a moment, his deep brown eyes stealing a glance at your lips, now satiny from the chapstick you applied. Your breathing hitched in your throat when he brought a hand up to cup your cheek, running a thumb over your flesh. Not another word was spoken before his lips were on yours. Soft. Smooth. Most likely from the chapstick, but neither of you were complaining.

Especially not Yuuji.

He’s dreamt of this moment, literally his entire life. The two of you have always been so close, he was beginning to think you thought of him more as a brother. That’s what’s kept him from ever making a move like this - he didn’t wanna ruin what you two had if you didn’t feel the same. Ultimately, though, that was a risk he was willing to take.

It seems like the risk was worth it.

The kiss was passionate, though it didn’t last long before you disconnected. He rest his forehead against yours, the tips of your noses touching innocently.

You looked into his eyes, a light chuckle falling from your lips. “Still hate the taste of strawberries?”

He laughed in response. “Absolutely not.” He said, before connecting your lips once more.

[serenityseventeen]

♫ Individual Members Masterlist 2:

back to [navigation]/m.list list | individual mb m.list 3

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This masterlist does not repeat what other masterlists already have

Consists of ONESHOTS, IMAGINES, AND SCENARIOS

Stories with more than one part are in numbered order (from left → right or from top ↑ to bottom ↓)

❥ = my personal favs

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All members individually:

↳ S.Coups | Jeonghan | Joshua | Junhui | Hoshi | Wonwoo | Woozi | Minghao | Mingyu | Seokmin | Seungkwan | Vernon | Dino

(1/13 requested) Vampire Boyfriend Series - what vampire!seventeen would be like as your boyfriend & as vampires in general

↳ The Letter Box

Love & Letter: To The Thirteen Boys I've Loved Before - inspired by "To All The Boys I've Loved Before" by Jenny Han.

You find a letter box consisting of thirteen letters you never sent to thirteen boys that you've fallen in love with and reread them.

S.coups:

↳ "Hours"

(request) both of you forget it's your birthday but he finally remembers

↳ "Because I Love You" ❥

(request) you flinch because of an argument with him and he feels guilty, telling you to slap him in return for making you flinch

↳ "Sulky" (ft. Jun & Mingyu)

(request) you visit him during practice and talk with Mingyu and Jun, causing him to get sulky and jealous

↳ "Kkeke" (ft. 1997 liners - Mingyu, DK, The8)

(request) you and Seungcheol like each other. You are friends with the 1997 line and they are always teasing you two about it. When they leave, Seungcheol confesses and asks you to date him.

Jeonghan:

↳ "Reassemble"

(request) after you flinch during an argument, he goes into the bedroom when your friends come; after your friends leave, you go to check up on him

↳ "The Other Side of the Door"

(request) Songfic: "The Other Side of the Door" by Taylor Swift - you two have an argument & you hate him but at the same time, need him so bad

↳ "Love Poem" | "Love Poem 2" (ft. Svt members)

(request) You are the princess of the Caerat Kingdom and Jeonghan is the prince of the Svuentin Kingdom. You two get arranged for marriage since birth but as the wedding day ticks closer, you find yourselves truly falling for each other.

↳ "I'm Jealous" (ft. Joshua)

(request) he gets really jealous when you get partnered up with your coworker for a three-legged race. extremely jealous.

↳ "I want to kiss you" (ft. S.Coups)

↳ "I want to kiss you, because I love you" (ft. S.Coups)

(request) you tell him that you want to kiss him seriously but you two are just friends...

Joshua:

↳ "I Like You" ❥

(request) you two are cafe workers and you like him and you finally confess to him

↳ "Gifted"

(request) you see his large hands and compare them with yours

↳ "Wonder" ❥

(Combined request) song fic: "Wonder" by Shawn Mendes - you two are friends but he keeps wondering what it's like to be loved by you, which leads to him unexpectedly kissing you

↳ "060421"

(request) you are sick and joshua takes care of you

↳ "Flutters" (ft. Svt members) ❥

(request) you and Joshua like each other but are too shy to confess. One day, you two get stuck in an art supply storage closet and slowly confess your long term crushes

↳ "Fine" ❥

(request) you break up with joshua... :(

↳ "A Sweet Winter Night" ❥

(request) it's a cold winter night and you spend it sweetly cuddling with your boyfriend while eating yummy snacks and drinking hot chocolate (ft. Your first kiss w/ him + a bit of teasing the gentle sexy)

Jun:

↳ "Just For Kisses" (ft. Woozi)

(request) because of a collab, you and jihoon have to spend a lot of time together talking about music, making your boyfriend, jun, jealous.

↳ "Can't Take My Eyes Off You" ❥

(half requested) a fluffy break-day with a clingy Moon Junhui.

↳ "From a Small Glance"

(requested) you are exhausted from performing and no one notices except jun and he gets worried

↳ "Brother"

(request) brother!jun helping you with your homework

↳ "Special Boy" (ft. Hoshi & The8)

(request) You go to Jun's dorm and help him unwind after he had a hard and long day at practice (ft. Cuddles)

↳ "It's Okay"

(request) you get into an argument with your dad on the phone and Jun calms you down

Hoshi:

↳ "Horanghae 호랑해" ❥

(request) you two argue because it seems like he likes tigers more than you

↳ "Close To You"

(request) he gets a bit jealous and protective so he becomes clingy, handcuffing you two together

↳ "Dispatch's New Year's Couple"

(request) you are the oldest in your group and care a lot for your members and is afraid of creating a scandal that could harm the group. your members and boyfriend, soonyoung, comfort you.

↳ "Moonstruck" | "Moonstruck 2"

(request) you are a servant, working as the stable girl in the kingdom of Svuentin. You're best friends with prince Chan and one day, his brother, prince Soonyoung, comes into your life and starts to like you.

↳ "Spider" (ft. SVT Perf. Unit)

(request) you are on an idol survival program and for a performance, you decide to perform 'spider' by Hoshi, not knowing that he's a guest judge. (ft. A bit of feelings being developed)

↳ "Human" (ft. The8)

(request) Soonyoung is stressed and practicing really hard so Minghao calls you to go and help calm Soonyoung down.

Wonwoo:

↳ [12:07 am] with Wonwoo

↳ "A Warmer Valentine's" ❥

Because you have no lover, you also have no plans for Valentine's day. Your friend, Wonwoo, reveals that he does have plans for the day though. The next day, on Valentine's, he shows up at your door.

↳ "Heartstrings" | "Heartstrings 2"

(request) It's 1993 and Jeon Wonwoo is forced to study classical music by his parents. He meets you, the orchestra club's double bassist and begins to love music as he learns with you. He also begins to love being with you too.

↳ "UwU"

(request) you always call him 'baby' or by his name so one day you decide to call him something new, something like "oowoo"

↳ "To My Growing Child" (ft. Mingyu) ❥

(request) you two are shopping with Mingyu and his girlfriend and Wonwoo mentions that he's glad you aren't pregnant when you secretly was (this if fluffy)

↳ "Warmth Amidst The Snowy Night" ❥

(request) it's a snowy night and he is staying over. you notice that his hands are shaking from the cold and give him a back hug to warm him up.

↳ "Goal" (ft. S.Coups)

(request) you make a goal to win in an activity but everyone but you wins in an activity so Wonwoo decides to purposely lose so that he could see you happy

↳ "Beauty of Colors" | "Beauty of Love" (ft. Mingyu)❥

(request) soulmate au: everyone is born in a black and white world until they meet their soulmate. You and Wonwoo meet and your worlds burst with color. As you two hang out, you two fall in love.

↳ "Just Friends?" ❥

(request) your friend Wonwoo has never been on a date and asks you to go on a date with him as a friend but you try to make it realistic, causing him to see you differently as a woman

↳ "Starry Sea in a Healing Cocktail" ❥ (1)

↳ "Peachy Romance by the Blossoming Waves" (2)

(request) You're on vacation in the seaside and every morning, you get tea from the lounge bar, being run by the bartender, Wonwoo. He always greets you with sweet words and asks why you aren't smiling. Now, it's your last day on vacation.

Woozi:

↳ "My My My Darling" ❥

(request) while cuddling, you tell him how much you love him

↳ "Bonkers"

(request) you two are idols and are dating; he accidentally posts a photo of you two on his public Instagram account instead of his private one

↳ "Like Father, Like Son?"

(request) dad!jihoon: he takes care of his son alone for the first time

↳ "Muse"

(request) Woozi is staying up late trying to write lyrics while he's in writer's block so you go to the studio and tell him to go to sleep, ending up with you two sleeping on the couch

↳ "Hand-obsessed"

(request) you love Jihoon's hands so you cuddle with them, hold them, kiss them, and compliment them

↳ "Your Choice"

(request) You see your ex-boyfriend again and feel a bit of longing toward him. Your current boyfriend, Jihoon, notices this and decides to tell you something.

↳ "Moonlight in Unit 0526" (1) ❥

↳ "Sunshine in Room 0922" (2) ❥

(request) Jihoon is a ghost hunter, he could see ghosts for an hour and he uses this ability to send ghosts to the spirit realm. One day, in apartment unit 0526, he meets you, a human-like ghost who's been stuck in your lonely and cold home for who knows how long.

The8:

↳ "Faults"

(requested) you and Minghao get into a sort of silent argument and you flinch when he points at your phone + both of you fluffily comforting each other afterward

↳ "Galaxy in his Eyes"

(request) being clingy and fluffy; after two weeks apart, Minghao finally comes home and is clingy and cuddly because he missed you and loves you

DK:

↳ "Crazy"

(request) you and Seokmin are friends (he has a crush on you) and he invites you couple bungee jumping

↳ "Perfect: What It Means To Be A Singer" (1)

↳ "Perfect: The Process of Becoming One" (2)

↳ "Perfect: Imperfection Makes Perfection" (3)

(request) You and Seokmin are always in singing competitions, fighting for the first place. Suddenly, one day, Seokmin asks to sing for you, changing your relationship with him.

↳ "Idyllic" ❥

(request) You and Seokmin met through a mutual friend and enjoy watching musicals together as a hobby. One day, Seokmin invites you to watch "Marie Antoinette" with him but truthfully, he wants to confirm whether or not he likes you romantically.

Mingyu:

↳ "Criminal: Ruthless" ❥

(request) mafia au: you are captured by a mafia family as a hacker and he saves you

↳ "Cool" | "Cure"

(request) mingyu x doctor!reader; he gets injured and you care for him a bit. He likes you and thinks you are cool.

↳ "Reunion"

(request) you go to a high school reunion and see your former school crush and just as you were about to leave out of boredom, he stops you and you two talk.

↳ "Little Bits"

(request) Mingyu is your boyfriend and has never kissed you longer than a peck. You ask him why.

↳ "Off To School"

(request) dad!mingyu sending his twin daughter and son to school

↳ "Do You Know My Heart?" (ft. Hoshi & Dino)

(request) You like Mingyu and you are his makeup artist. You get switched and become Seungkwan's makeup artist, causing Mingyu to realize his feelings.

↳ "Maybe I Love You" (ft. Svt members)

(request) You two are childhood best friends and he is busy with work so you hang out with the members. After promotions, he wants to hang out alone but you two end up hanging out with all of the members...

↳ "I Like You Better"

(request) Mingyu, your boyfriend, sees that you have the vocalist of a rock band you like as your lockscreen instead of him.

Seungkwan:

↳ "Second Life" (ft. Joshua) ❥

↳ "Second Life 2" (ft. Svt members) ❥

(request) reincarnation fic: You and Seungkwan are in love during the great depression but you both die in a house fire. You two get reincarnated and you remember everything but he doesn't.

↳ "Beautiful Night" ❥

(request) you write a suicide letter but stop halfway; your boyfriend, seungkwan, finds the letter and immediately goes to find you

↳ "Thrice is Fate" ❥

(request) You never have a consistent schedule when it comes to visiting the cafe. However, you meet a guy in the front of the cafe by chance, but then you meet him again by coincidence. Would you meet him for the third time?

Vernon:

↳ "Sweetest Thing" ❥| "Sweetest Thing 2" ❥

(half-request) he is being tailed by a journalist and reporter and you help him by offering some strawberries...

↳ "Care"

(request) you are not feeling well after surgery and he comes to try and take care of you but you refuse because you don't want to be a bother

↳ "Just Ask"

(request) you two go on a date and you notice that he wants to hold your hand but doesn't (he's been wanting to for the whole day)

Dino:

↳ "LOVE"

(request) Chan likes you like crazy but you don't want to love him because you think of yourself as a burden and you think that he won't like you anymore once he knows you better

↳ "The Arcade Date" ❥

(request) going on a date with your boyfriend, Chan, to the arcade, competitively playing games, and making sweet, fluffy bets

↳ "Significance" | "Significant"

(request) you never really celebrated your birthday, on your birthday one night, you meet a man who is busking and he asks if it is anyone's birthday today (February 11th).

↳ "Promise for Eternity" ❥

(request) Chan on his wedding day with you.

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This masterlist has reached the maximum number of links available/is finished.

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-serenityseventeen

[pleasantanathema]

Invasive Species

Pairing: Hawks x Fem Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Yandere, Dubious Non/Con, Stalking, Possessive Actions

Word Count: 7.7k

A/N:This is a part of the bnharem pen pals collab that can be found here! Please check out everyone else’s amazing work for this very unique smutty collaboration.

           The noise was so faint, a gentle peck against the glass, the sound muffled by the mild summer breeze, that you hadn’t heard it. And so, the paper became lifeless, drifting down onto the floor to rest until you found it. You were startled when you saw it—a blood red feather, with a crisp, folded note tied to it, lying in your floor, the feather ruffling in the wind from the open window. Your heart pounded in your chest. You had seen feathers like that before, felt them against your skin and in your hair as a winged hero carried you to safety from a burning building just yesterday. But you’d been one of many, he saved so many people, yet he left a feather for you?

           You’ll always be safe with me around.

                                   –Hawks

           You smiled at his writing, finding it to be much neater and prettier than you expected from a man in his twenties. What a kind, considerate hero to send you such an endearing promise. No wonder he topped the popularity polls, you mused, sitting on your bed and re-reading the little note. You tapped the feather against your lips, twirling it between your fingers. You remembered how he was able to control the nimble things, sending feathers zipping across the sky to pull people by their collars and the back of their shirts to safety. Surely he would want it back, right? You felt it twitch within your hand as if it could read your mind.

           Quickly, you searched your desk, ripping at a piece of paper to create a slip similar to the size of his note. You took a breath before writing, not wanting your handwriting to seem unsteady or nervous. You wondered if anyone ever wrote him back, or if people kept his feathers like trophies.

           Thank you, Hawks. I’m grateful that someone will be watching after me.

           You signed your name in the bottom corner.

           The crimson feather darted away when you placed it on your window sill, jumping like it was alive. It carried your note back to waiting hands and a cheeky smile, to a man only a few rooftops away. Avian eyes narrowed and darkened at your innocent words.

           You didn’t realize it at the time, but your message was an invitation to a very dangerous game.

           The next little letter came about a week later, long after the sun had set and your eyes were heavy. The quill against the glass spooked you, the sound reminiscent of sharp nails tapping to get your attention. You opened the window and the feather fluttered past your cheek, landing perfectly in the middle of your desk like it belonged there. You rubbed your eyes as you sat down to read it, flicking on the dim light that you had just turned off to go to sleep.

           You couldn’t help the way you smiled when you saw that this letter was personally addressed to you.

           Sorry for making you wait so long. I’m not used to writing letters. But your handwriting is so pretty, I thought I could implore you for another? Please tell me something about you.

                                                                                 –Hawks

           You blinked at the paper, thumbs crinkling the edges. There was something about the letter that made your heart thump a little harder in your chest, blood racing in your veins. You realized that you were not one of many to receive an assuring note from the hero; no, you had been sought out by him, plucked and singled out of the crowd. Hawks had remembered you in particular. A small bit of adrenaline kicked into your system as you picked up your pen.

           This is going to sound like I’m trying to be sweet on you, but I’ve actually always loved birds. My favorite are the pretty red song birds that I hear outside my windows in the evening.

           There was a compulsion for you to keep this response letter a little longer. You mulled it over, hoping he wouldn’t get the wrong idea. You weren’t lying, those cute little song birds did bring you joy, but there was a tinge in your heart to impress him, to make him smile as he read your letter.

           And as quick as the feather flew in, it flew away, a red streak across the star speckled sky. You finally curled up in bed, a concoction of excitement and content brewing in your chest. You held your pillow a little closer, dreaming of the brush of soft wings against your skin.

           But those wings were dark, casting shadows in the moonlight, now only a single rooftop away from you. Hawks held your letter in his hand, golden gaze locked onto the color of your curtains. He wondered if you’d ever become privy enough to shut them.

           He read your words over and over again, smiling at how coy you were. He knew you were clever, but he didn’t expect you to be so daring. He brushed his hair behind his ear, pressing the small scrap of paper to his nose, trying to get a hint of the sweetness he had smelled in your hair when he plucked you from that building. You were so darling in his arms; he loved how you clung to him, small hands around his neck like you would collapse without him, even when he had you safe on the ground.

           The letter in his hand felt like the key into your life, and all too quickly he found himself writing back to you. And in the depths of the night, this particular letter and feather were hand delivered by the pretty bird from outside your window, though you’d never know it.

___________________________________________________________

           You found the letter tucked neatly into the corner of your window, the one closest to your bed. It had been the first thing your eyes focused on as you awoke, the crimson barbs of the feather gleaming in the early morning light. You laid in the comfort of your warm bed for a few moments just gazing at the sight, sleepy mind trying to piece together how and why the winged hero had taken an interest in you. He was so handsome, so popular, so tantalizing in a curious way.

           The summer breeze was warm even so early in the day. You left the window open to allow a current of fresh air in, settling back into your pillows as you unfolded the note.

           I suppose liking birds is something we have in common. Those pretty red song birds outside your window are actually cardinals…an invasive species in Japan, but pretty nonetheless.

                                   P.S. Perhaps I could soon become your favorite red bird.

                                                                       –Hawks

           You read it a few times, worrying your lip as your eyes raked over every word. There was something to be read between the lines, only you worried you weren’t finding the hidden meaning. Why mention that the birds were invasive species? It made them sound impish and not as lovely knowing they weren’t really supposed to be there. Yet their morning calls were beautiful, melodic, a comfort to your ears from the open window. And was Hawks…flirting with you? His post script seemed so playful and nonchalant, and reading it had your cheeks turning pink.

           You busied yourself with your morning routine as you debated how to reply. You didn’t know Hawks, you didn’t even know how he found out where you lived, and yet he was flirting with you so offhandedly, like he expected you to return his dalliances. Had he come early this morning before starting his hero work? Or did he work at night, and sent a feather before returning home? There was so little that you knew about him that it made you nervous to be stepping into such an unknown situation, but surely it didn’t mean much to him. You were a little nobody; he was the number two hero.

           Even still, in a way, it felt so romantic, finding hand written letters from him, like you were out of time, floating in a midsummer bliss. But it also felt disquieting, like you were stepping out into a vast, unknown ocean.

           You sat down to write to him before you left to begin your day. The feather in your hand was so light, so soft, and you gently stroked your thumb over the barbs, watching them split apart and then find one another again. The hollow shaft seemed to quake in response. You were reminded of how every feather appeared to be alive, controlled by their far-off master. They were so sensitive to every touch, every gust of wind. You dipped your finger against the edge, watching the alluring color bleed against your skin.

           Can you feel what your feathers feel, Hawks?

           And you set the feather free once again, having to block the sun from your eyes as you watched it dance away, note dangling from a long forgotten ribbon you had found in your drawer.

           But soon, you forgot about it, carried away by the daily musings of your life.

______________________________________________________________

           As for Hawks, he thought about it all day, carried your little note in his pocket as he attended to his heroic duties across the city. The image of your window, of your little home where it was tucked away, always remained in the back of his mind. He was itching to go back to the rooftop from where he watched you; he wanted to see your reaction as you opened his letter, watch you ponder how to respond. He was quickly becoming addicted to you, to watching you when you least expected it.

           He had perfectly crafted his response by the end of his day, broad wings hurrying him to his favorite resting spot. Your city apartment was so high up, no one from below could dream of looking up to see you. But he could see you, he had scouted the best from which to watch you. He was just high enough where you couldn’t peer back at him, the perfect perch for a predator to watch his prey. From the neighboring rooftop he could see the entirety of your bedroom. It was like a painting on the wall of a museum, wonderfully on display for him to admire, especially when you came home.

           He rested his cheek in his palm as he watched you come in your bedroom door. He could practically hear you sigh as you dropped your bag, stretching your arms above your head to rid yourself of the small tensions your day had brought you. And this was his favorite part—you quickly shimmied out of your pants, a little dance as you bounced back and forth on your heels, pulling one leg up and then the other. You then bent over and pulled your favorite pair of soft shorts from the floor, having unceremoniously dropped them there the night before. You looked so good in those, he mused, the cozy fabric stretched so snugly upon your hips, curving just right across your backside.

           He waited for you to get comfortable, then plucked a feather from his wings, tying his note to it with the ribbon you’d sent out this morning. He grinned at how you jumped when the feather flew through the crack in your window. He made a little show of having it swirl around you before landing it on your desk.

           I can feel everything that my feathers touch—the wind, water, sound vibrations, they’re a part of me. You should give this one a kiss before you send it back.

           The name’s Keigo, by the way. Takami Keigo.

           Did you always blush like that when you opened his letters? He watched you stand up and pace around, thumb between your pretty lips, lost in thought. Soon you grabbed the note again, plopping on the edge of your bed to read it over. Your legs crossed and uncrossed, a smile finally pulling at your cheeks. He watched with delight as you picked up the feather, tingles immediately spreading across his skin at the feel of your fingers.

           He groaned as you brushed your fingertips over the barbs. He pulled at his tinted eyewear, bringing them to rest upon his head so he could watch you more closely. A lock of hair twisted around his finger as he anxiously waited for you to do as he asked, to kiss his feather, to let him have a fleeting moment where he felt the ghost of your lips upon his skin.

           But you didn’t, you just kept stroking the long red feather, teasing him. His brows furrowed as you stopped, watching you sit the feather back on your desk, along with his note. How could you…how could you not respond to him right away? Why not give him what he desired?

           Hawks watched in disbelief as you sauntered out of your bedroom into another part of your little home.

           He waited for what felt like hours for you to come back. He should’ve left when the sun went down, he chided himself, bringing his wings closer to his body. Autumn was in the wind. He had almost left, was even picking himself up and shoving his hands into his pockets when your room lit up like a beacon calling him back. So he settled back into his spot, golden eyes watching your every move.

           His breath caught in his throat when you began to shed your clothes—all of them. He’d watched you for over a week now, and finally you were fully naked before him. You looked ethereal with the dim light of your room spilling over your curves, every single line of your body on display. He found himself sitting up straighter, perched on the balls of his feet like at any moment he was going to leap into your arms.

           Were you…? Oh fuck, you were walking to your desk, sitting down and taking a pen into your hand. Instantly he was hard, fingers encircling his cock with a death grip as you picked up the feather, his feather, and admired it for a moment. He could feel your breath blowing against the soft barbs, the warmth spreading over him like a blanket from the breeze. But you sat it down, electing to instead write him back, treating him to the lovely sight of your naked back arched over your desk, the elegant sinews of your shoulders on exhibit.

           And then you were in your window, your naked body so temptingly close. He wanted to reach out and touch you, to feel the weight of your breasts within his palms.

           As soon as he felt the wind blowing against the feather, he pulled it back to him. He always knew when it was your feather returning to him, even when he couldn’t see it. He could sense the heft of the paper tied to it, pulling at the feather like it wanted to sink to the ground. He even recognized the tenderness in your touch, felt how you always twisted the feather between your fingers.

           You’re cheeky, Keigo. A kiss? I hardly know you. Maybe one day.

           He scoffed at your words, folding the note back into its creases. Your light flickered off, the moonlight the only illumination for him to gaze into your little world. He watched you climb onto your bed, expecting you to curl up in your favorite spot and drift away into your dreams.

           He was very happily mistaken.

           Your hands were on your body, one cupping your breast, the other slipping into your mouth. He stroked his cock through his pants at the sight, eyes wide and ravenous as he watched the scene unfold before him. You were slow, thorough, taking your time running your hand over your curves, twisting at your nipples. Your fingers left your mouth and traveled south, to another pair of lips he had yet to see. You spread your legs, teasing yourself as your head dipped back against the pillow.

           Hawks was desperately moving his head, angling his body to try to see what sweetness was waiting for him between your legs. But your thigh was in the way, blocking his view, and he huffed indignantly as he unzipped his cargo pants. His cock was achingly hot as he released it, the night air bringing a refreshing chill to his scorching skin. He wrapped his hand a little too firmly around himself, closing his eyes for only a brief moment to imagine how tight you’d be around his cock.

           Your face was awash with pleasure, lips hanging open. He silently vowed to etch that look upon your face himself.He watched you intently, memorizing every movement, every place that you touched yourself. He could’ve observed you for hours, if it wasn’t for his unrelenting need to orgasm. He pumped himself to the paces you set, alternating between fast and slow, wanting to cum the moment you did. But the moment he saw your back arch, his keen hearing picking up on a high pitched moan through the window, he lost control, spilling himself all over his hand and down the front of his shirt, dripping onto his pants.

           He’d been so caught up in his own ecstasy that he missed yours. He only saw you in the afterglow, your curves sinking into the mattress as sleep overcame you.

           He wrote you a quick letter, leaving it wedged against your window sill. He took a moment to admire you up close, hand pressing to the glass to steady the silent flapping of his wings.

___________________________________________________________

            But I know you.

           There was no signature to the note, only large fingerprints upon your window.

           They were like little specters, ghastly against the morning dew.

           Your stomach dropped at the sight, dread bubbling to the surface. He had hand delivered this note, had been at your window, had seen you at some time in the night. You pulled your sheets to your chest, recalling that you’d fallen asleep on your comforter naked last night, only waking in the early hours of dawn to finally crawl under the covers. Had he seen you? Is that what he meant?

           He reminded you of Hermes, a winged protector of humans, but a trickster god nonetheless, flittering around the country with a bright smile and witty banter, but perhaps something darker in his heart. Maybe he was worse than Hermes, maybe more dreadful, more sinful. For a while there had been something nagging at you, pulling at the strings of your intuition and whispering danger. But now…now that feeling had blossomed into fear.

           You decided you had indulged the winged hero enough. There was no need to reply. Any romance you had felt from the actions withered away, dying out like a flower left in the sun.

           You started to close your curtains when you came home most days, just in case.

           Weeks went by, and autumn came. The cardinals stopped singing, with no other red feathers or letters in sight.

           But sometimes you could hear rustling outside, see familiar shadows pass by.

           He was on your television screen, too, newsfeeds obsessed with the most popular hero. He was always being praised for saving more people, for helping rescue and clean up after a disaster. He was darling on the screen, blonde hair always slightly a mess from flying. He seemed so handsome, so harmless, but you could see the glint in his eyes. He was something wicked, something enticing, and you hated that you had thought about him every day since his last letter.

           The morning you found his note, you had thrown the paper in the trash, and thrown the feather back out the window. But by evening, it had fluttered back, red and sweet like a rose growing against the glass. You’d left it there, hoping the wind would take it away, but days went by and it was still hanging on, a reminder of his presence. A storm was on the horizon when you relented and took the feather in. There was something inside of you that couldn’t bear to see the cherry colored barbs wilt in the rain.

           You tucked it away in your desk drawer, not as a reminder, but to just to get it out of sight. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

           Some of your nights were restless, plagued with thoughts of him, of Keigo Takami peeking into your window, of his plush wings against your skin.

____________________________________________________________

           It was after an especially long, grueling day, that you gave in to your repressed thoughts.

           You stood at the foot of your bed, ready to climb in, when some unknown force had you turning on your heels. It was like your hands had a mind of their own, pulling open the drawer and plucking the crimson feather from its resting place. You twirled it before you, nostalgia creeping across your skin as you remembered how the feathers used to look in the summer sky.

           The feather felt like red silk upon your lips when you kissed it. You wondered if he could still feel it, after all these months.

           You laughed at the inane thought, kicking off your shorts as you finally found your way into bed. You gazed up at the ceiling, counting the moonbeams that had slithered in through the cracks in the curtains. You hadn’t closed them all the way, but you rarely did anymore.

           You sighed, closing your eyes and trying to imagine yourself somewhere else. Your fingers drifted down to the hem of your underwear, toying with the edges. You thought of strong arms around you, thick hands in place of your own. You thought of a new hero you had read about earlier, some young, recently graduated young buck from a hero program. You bit into your lip as you tried to recall his name. All you could remember were wild plumes of purple hair, which looked so luscious and soft in the online videos. You tried to imagine him, or someone like him, at least, pressing themselves between your legs.

           Your fingers rubbed lazy circles on your clit, warming your body up. But you couldn’t stay focused on one thought, the problems of your day tiptoeing back into your conscious as you tried to pleasure yourself. Your other hand slipped under your big t-shirt, tugging rather roughly at your nipple as you tried to bring yourself back into a different headspace. You increased the speed of your fingers, only to find yourself panting in dissatisfaction at your actions.

           “Fuck,” you called in frustration to the darkness.

           “Seems like you need some help, little bird.”

           You had never expected the darkness to call back.

           Your whole body stilled, going completely numb as you opened your eyes.

           Hawks stood near your desk, absentmindedly fiddling with the feather you’d left on its surface. The window was open, curtains billowing and brushing against dark wings that eclipsed the moonlight. You felt like the shadows his wings cast were smothering you, sinking around your lungs like an inky vice, keeping your voice trapped within your chest.

           He had the audacity to smile at you. His hands were deep in his pockets, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt that looked haphazardly thrown upon his shoulders. You wanted to run away, but you felt glued to the bed, beguiled by smoldering golden eyes as he approached.

           “I know what you like, you know. Watched you do it so many times now.”

           You braced yourself against the bed, the sheets slipping down as you crawled back, gaze transfixed on the predator placing his knees on the downy comforter. He was so quick, grabbing your leg and pulling you towards him. His smile never wavered as he pressed a wet kiss to your ankle, tongue sneaking out to catch a taste of your skin. You whimpered at his words, tongue too heavy in your mouth to form ones of your own.

           “Cat got your tongue? Come on, I want to hear that pretty voice. Say the magic word, and I’ll be happy to help you out.”

           It was like you were engulfed by his presence. The air smelled like him as he spread his wings, gently ruffling them before settling them back down to his sides. He smelled like rain, felt like a raging storm from above you, all dark clouds and lightning as his quick fingers started to move up your calves, keeping your legs spread to accommodate him upon the bed.

           “N-no.”

           Your voice was weak, just a hot gasp of breath into the room.

           “You sure about that, baby? I promise I know exactly how to touch you.”

           To prove his point, a hurried hand wrapped around your hip, thumb slipping under the fabric of your underwear to skim across your hip bone. You shuttered, his touch was too warm, feeling like he was burning his thumbprint into your skin. But it felt good, the pressure behind the digit so firm, making you feel so real against your body’s borders, feel alive at the jolt of pleasure that ran down your spine.

           But with his body hovering above yours, it felt like there was a heavy weight falling onto your chest, pushing you down, down, down, deep into the mattress and holding you hostage. You wanted to push him away, to scream, to pull at his wings until it hurt him. But you were quiet, frozen in place, entranced by golden curls in the moonlight. And he knew it too.

           “I’m going to show you everything I’ve learned by watching you,” his head dipped down, smile hanging just above your face, “and show you a few new things I know you’ll love.”

           “Hawks,” you breathed out, hands finally moving and finding purchase against his chest. You wanted your tone to sound berating, angry, but instead your voice sounded pleading.

           The brush of his lips against yours was so delicate, a penumbra against supple flesh.

           “Keigo,” he corrected, the syllables of his name pressing into your lips.

           He drank you in with a heavy groan, kissing you like a man starved for touch. You couldn’t close your eyes, too shocked at the sudden intrusion. Just moments ago you were dreaming of a man between your legs, and now one was here, he was real, eyes shut as he moved his lips against yours. Your sight was blurred by forming tears, your vision focused on the black lines that adorned his eyes. They were so beautiful, so stark against his soft skin, a reminder of how truly avian he was; a reminder of his primordial instincts.

           The hand on your hip drew your body up into his, fingers now gripping at your ass with bruising strength. Your mouth fell agape at the stinging pain of his roughness, allowing his hot tongue to slip between your lips. You fisted his shirt, trying to push him away, only to be met with lithe muscles straining underneath the fabric. You were reminded that he might be slender, but he was still a trained fighter, the number two hero, and he could do anything he liked to you.

           He was brash, eager, desperate to finally touch you. His kiss was sloppy and wet, full of hearty groans as his hips bucked against your own. Your eyes finally shut, mind trying to picture someone else above you, someone who didn’t stalk you, scare you, but yet you could only imagine him. His presence was suffocating, his smell saccharine, the brush of his fluttering wings addictive.

           “I knew you kept my feather,” he panted against your lips, his head dipping to your neck where he pressed open mouthed kisses to your beating pulse, “I knew you’d call out for me.”

           “Hawks, no, that’s not what I was—”

           He forcefully sucked at your neck, the sharp pain silencing you.

           “Keigo,” he reprimanded against your skin, “come on, you didn’t miss me? Not even a little?”

           “How can I miss you when I know you’re always there?”

           He chuckled, sitting back and plucking your hands from their tight grip against his shirt. He held a wrist in each hand, settling them on either side of your face, pinning you down under his strong arms.

           “I wanted to write you so many more letters, but I was worried that you’d throw them away.”

           “I would have.” You sneered, wiggling in his grip.

           “But why? I told you that you’d always be safe with me around, little bird.”

           “You’re stalking me, Hawks—”

           The grip on your wrists tightened, his thick fingers crushing the delicate bones, a warning.

           “I’m watching over you.”

           He gradually removed his hands from your wrists, the movement slow, steady, his keen eyes watching to see if you would react. Your skin was throbbing, bones aching from his relentless grasp. You didn’t move.

           “And look at how I found you, baby, so desperate for help.”

           His fingers pressed between your legs, rubbing against your clothed sex. Pleasure ran through your veins like a shock wave, your legs instinctively closing around his forearm. He sat back on his knees, marveling over how your body reacted to such a simple touch. He moved a little faster, a little harder, middle finger pressed firmly against your slit. He daringly pressed in, the fabric of your underwear keeling at his actions, sinking inside of you.

           “Fuck, you’re so wet already, is this all for me?”

           You could only shake your head no, too stunned to open your mouth to speak. He smirked, running his other hand through his hair, whistling at the vexing sight before him. For so many nights he’d wanted to be right here, in your bed, your thighs spread across his own as he touched you, toyed with you, proved to you that he could please you.

           He kept his hand on your pussy, using the other to lift up your shirt, fingers searing across your belly. They kept moving upwards, pushing your shirt away to reveal your breasts. He licked his lips at the sight, fingers itching to pull at your nipples.

           “Say the magic word,” his voice was lower now, more sinister, “say it, and I’ll touch you how you like.”

           Did you even have a choice?

           His hands were perfectly still, like he was a man stopped in time. You blinked at him, once, twice, wondering how something so beautiful could be so nefarious. He looked like a fallen angel, like his feathers had been dipped in blood and he was going to paint you with them. Your heart rate slowed, any adrenaline you had to fight beginning to flush from your veins. Your pussy was aching, the tip of his finger stretching you just enough to make you want more.

           “Please.”

           His eyes snapped to you, black pupils narrowed.

           “A little louder,” he commanded, “and say my name.”

           You swallowed, tongue wetting your lips. Your fingers dug into the sheets, still next to your face where he had left them. You were sweating, overcome with the feeling of your naked chest heaving with shaky breaths.

           “Please…Keigo.”

           The dam broke, sensations flooding over you as he moved freely over your body. Your shirt was gone in an instant, your torso thumping back to the bed before you even realized he had ripped the material over your head. His shirt was gone, too, being shimmied over his wings and tossed into the floor. He was so quick, nimble fingers ridding you of your panties in the blink of an eye. And then he was on you, two fingers sunk deep into your pussy before you could even think to breathe.

           You cried out, body arching as he pumped the digits into you at high velocity, your slick walls clenching. You felt his flaxen hair tickle your chest as his warm mouth sucked one of your nipples into the wet cavern, tongue shamelessly flicking over the hardening bud. Fuck, he felt so good, so warm, so real against your body, so much better than your own hands.

           His teeth pulled at your nipple, white hot heat surging through your body in response.

           “Keigo!” You scolded, but your voice was so high pitched, so laden with lust, that he mistook it for praise.  

           He continued to nip at your breast, fingers still plunging in and out of your pussy, the sounds lewd to your ears. His pace was wild and excited, making your skin tingle from all the attention. He sucked at your nipple, releasing the bud with a wet pop, a string of saliva still connecting his flushed lips to your darkening skin. He nuzzled his face to the underside of your breast, leaving you gasping as he sucked and nipped at the sensitive skin, nose pressing into the fleshy mound.

           His fingers slowed as he sat back to look over your writhing body. He smirked, curling his fingers just right, pads brushing against the soft, flat place buried deep inside of you.

           His free hand encircled your jaw, pursing your lips.

           “Watch me, little bird.”

           You nodded in his grip, keeping your eyes on his as he came to lay between your thighs. He draped one leg across his shoulder, allowing him to angle his head as he pressed a kiss to your clit. You moaned wantonly, worrying your lip between your teeth as you watched him. He was smiling at you, warm golden eyes hypnotizing you to keep observing. He was ready to put on a show, to let you see how observant he was, how he knew your body like the back of his hand without ever touching you before now.

           The way he licked at your clit was intoxicating, little hot swirls with the tip, then heavy strokes with a flat tongue, alternating just how you liked. That sizzling coil inside your belly began to tighten. He was moaning against your wet flesh, the vibrations tingling down your pussy lips. He was enjoying himself, savoring you like an expensive meal he’d waited ages to try. His fingers kept in pace with his mouth, stroking you just right, strumming you like the devil would his fiddle within his hands.

           He then employed a trick he learned from watching you. With his other hand, he spread your labia, exposing your sensitive clit even more to his hungry mouth. You shivered at the onslaught of pleasure, body so hot you felt like you could burst into flames, melt into the bed, die a little death. You whimpered, still wholly spellbound by the vision between your legs. Hawks’ wings seemed to shutter with every moan you made, the red plumage highly attuned to every sound, every move of your body.

           Every touch, every lick, was so sinful and wicked. You tried to remind yourself that you didn’t want this, that Hawks was dangerous, that he had stalked you for weeks and could only tempt you so expertly because he watched you through your windows. But he was so beautiful, so devilishly divine between your legs, hot tongue swirling figure eights against your clit, fingers beckoning you to come undone.

           “You like this.” He said it between long licks, fingers beginning a new, more ruthless pace inside of you.

           A string of curses left your lips, your thighs beginning to quiver against his shoulders.

           “No, no, please no,” you said the words to yourself, the pleasure he was creating becoming unbearable between your legs. He continued to lap against your folds, fingers spreading you wider, keeping you open and unprotected for him. He knew you were close, could feel your walls tightening. He added a third finger just to be cruel, to watch you shrink against the sheets as your back arched for him.

           “Cum on my face, baby, I know you’ve thought about it before.”

           To your shame, you absolutely shattered around him at his words, your pussy spasming, your orgasm flooding all of your senses. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, like you were blissfully pinned down by his feathers, asphyxiated by his overbearing presence within your room, within your body. He stopped his ministrations, electing to watch you unfold for him from between your legs, eyes brighter than ever before. He could see the muscles within your lower stomach contracting, could feel your orgasm upon his fingers, slick coating them in gentle waves, all for him. The sight was more glorious than he ever imagined, the girl of his dreams cumming all over his fingers, all over his mouth, your sweetness flooding over him.

           He didn’t allow you time to breath, time to bask in the afterglow of your orgasm. He quickly pulled you into his arms, sitting you in his lap, greedily kissing your lips.

           “Keigo,” you whined, pressing against his chest, trying to find a moment to breathe.

           “Fuck, I love the way you say my name,” his lips were relentless, seeking yours out every time you broke away, head following you like a moth would a flame, “keep saying it, baby.”

           “Keigo, get out.” You growled, threading your fingers through his hair and jerking his head away. You kept him at bay, keeping a steady pull on his blonde locks.

           “Oh no, I’m not done with you.”

           His eyes were so dark, his cock so hard between your dripping legs.

           He was the devil, Lucifer himself, the wayward angel staring at you, waiting to devour you. And you, you summoned him.

           There was no incantation that could contain him or send him away. His arms tightened around your back, one hand pulling you into him by your shoulder, the other hastily pulling himself from his pants.

           “See what you do to me, little bird,” he took your hand and wrapped it around his cock, big hand using your smaller one to stroke his length, “I’m always so hard for you.”

           You couldn’t help the shameless moan that tumbled from your mouth. His cock was silky smooth against your fingers, throbbing and hot, far too hot, and slick from his own pre-cum. You didn’t protest as he used your palm for his pleasure, a sly grin upon his cheeks as he felt you become complacent in his lap.

           “Haw—”

           The hand on your shoulder was swiftly upon your face, two fingers that tasted like your pussy invading your mouth to silence you.

           “When you’re with me, you call me by my name.”

           You nodded softly, eyes shifting across the planes of his face, attempting to read his serious expression. He continued to run your hand upon his length, guiding you to squeeze his swollen tip, thumb petting the underside of his cock. His thumb hooked in your cheek, not so gently tugging at the elastic flesh, studying how you let him touch you. He skated his fingers across your tongue, hoping to feel the wet muscle react to him.

           “Keigo,” you mumbled against his fingers, the sound like manna from heaven to his ears.

           “Good girl,” he cooed, feathers ruffling as he pushed you back onto the pillows.

           You laid before him again, limbs heavy and with the ghost of his fingers still in your open mouth. He looked like a god as he towered above you, wings spreading wide as if to parade their otherworldly beauty before you.

           Then you felt the weight of his hips between your legs, the press of his chest against your own, the prickle of his facial hair against your neck as he settled himself there. His hands were on you again, precipitous and heedless against your curves, twisting and pulling at your flesh to bend one leg back, hook the other around his waist.

           His cock nudged at your wet heat, one of his hands guiding him inside of you, the stretch simultaneously delightful and dreadful. Protest was on your tongue, you could taste the words, feel your gut instinct to use your curled leg to kick him away. But your arms welcomed him, encircling his shoulders as you moaned for him. Your head tipped back against the pillow and he took the opportunity to latch on to you again. His tongue lapped at the sore spot he had created earlier with his mouth, tasting the saltiness of sweat upon your skin.

           “You feel so good around my cock,” he groaned, hips beginning to snap into you. Your nails dug into his shoulders, his feathers brushing against your knuckles as he moved within you. You felt so full, so entirely encompassed by him, enraptured by the sweetest devil.

           All your movements felt coerced, like your body was following his lead against your will. Your hips began to match his thrusts, bucking up into him in order to feel his thick cock fall deeper into you. His strong hands encouraged you, gripping into the supple flesh of your thighs as he pressed himself into your wetness, faster and faster with every thrust.

           You kept your eyes open for a moment, entranced by the exquisite scene above you. Keigo felt unhinged, electric against you, golden curls bouncing upon his head, red feathers dancing upon his back. But his face was smooth, pretty, cheeks dusky with a dark blush as he found euphoria from within your body. One of your hands trailed up to the back of his neck, weaving within his hair. His eyes fluttered open to see you, signature grin returning as he felt your touch, his hips rocking a little harder to reward you.

           “Tell me how it feels to have me inside of you.”

           You closed your eyes then, focusing on how effortlessly his cock glided within you. Each thrust was hasty and rough, skin slapping against skin as his cock buried itself deep within your gut. He curved just perfectly inside you, cockhead delightfully brushing against the sensitive flesh of your walls with every plunge of his hips. His hands were splayed across your hips, one dangerously close to your clit, as if teasing you.

           “Fuck,” you hissed, recognizing the buildup to orgasm pooling within your belly, “you feel so good.”

           A bawdy sound left his throat at your words, like he’d died upon hearing them.

           One of his hands slid higher upon your body, fingers lacing around your ribcage, framing the underside of your breast. He began to forcefully pull your body into his, sliding you upon and down the sheets and upon his cock. You cried out, leg tightening at his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, begging him to devour you and take what he wanted.

           “That’s right, little bird, I’m going to make you cum on my cock.”

           Your breasts were bouncing against his chest, your nails leaving indents upon his skin, his mouth back to sucking at your neck.

           “And then I’m going to cum in you, make you mine.”

           You were too lost to care, every nerve under your skin desperate for his touch. His thumb glided wickedly against your clit, fanning the hellish flames of your ecstasy even hotter and higher than before. A shriek of pleasure erupted from your chest, the hand upon his head bringing him closer to you, crashing your lips together as tears gleamed in your lashes. His cock was hammering into you so ruthlessly, your clit feeling abused from his too-quick thumb.

           You were coming undone too quickly and too soon, your body feeling like threads being ripped apart at the seams. He grunted into your mouth, your tongue finally coming to play against his own, battling against him as you wrestled within yourself not to cum for him again so soon. But every stroke of his cock brought a fresh burst of pleasure blooming across your body, and you were so close, so fucking close to falling off the edge.

           “Say my name,” he demanded against your lips, “say my name when you cum.”

           There was no reason for you to comply, you weren’t his, he didn’t own you, but everything inside of you ached to appease him, and your mouth moved on its own accord.

           “K-Keigo,” you stumbled, feeling yourself climbing the orgasmic ladder, every harsh thrust of cock leading you up another rung. His arm wrapped around your back, pressing you up against him in a hectic embrace. Your face settled against his shoulder, your fingers tightening in his hair, the others drawing blood upon his back. He only purred at the pain, so determined to bring you to release that he paid it no mind. His thumb rubbed tirelessly at your swollen clit, moving it in harmony with his cock.

           Suddenly your moans stopped, the air being knocked from your lungs as pure ecstasy approached again.

           And then the world felt too quiet, your mind hazing over as you cried out in melodic moans, your inner walls clenching and unclenching so deliciously tight against his thick cock as you came for him. You could feel the heavy weight of him inside of you, still plunging into your depths as he sought his own release. Your fingers relaxed against his skin, feeling like you were sinking and he was the only thing keeping you safe from the fall.

           “Keigo,” it was a whisper, the barest hint of sound against his ear. But he felt, heard it, and it had him tumbling over the orgasmic edge with a roar of your name. Hot ropes of cum filled your body, his hard cock twitching against your walls.

           “Fuck you’re mine, all mine.”

           He murmured it against your hair, both arms now wrapping around your body. You laid there, motionless in his arms, heart pounding within your ear drums. Reality came crashing down far slower than your orgasm had, but still the consequences of your actions felt weightier against your body than the man above you.

           He fell to his side next to you. But he wasn’t gone, far from it, as his hands were back on your body. One trailed across your cheek, the other dabbled between your legs, toying with his cum that leaked from within you.

           He smirked, eyes catching yours, “and now you’re mine, my perfect little bird.”

           You were too tired to fight back, lids heavy as he held you against his warmth, the fierce wings of an invasive species draped across your naked flesh.

[astridthevalkyrie]

wip for a fic that will be posted some time before next monday:

Turns out, he was telling the truth.

Oh.

And you’re as sure of that as you are that there is something pressing against your leg.

Oh.

“You gonna help with that too?” Levi snarls, eyes turning feral in that way that makes you shiver.

[lacheri]

I’ll make changes officially to the moonlight muse collab soon, but as of right now the deadline is extended another two weeks!

[saudade-mayari]

Paraluman

(n.) Muse; A compass. An idea of a beautiful woman embodied like an angel meant to guide like a star to one's endeavors.

pairing/s: Shouta Aizawa x fem!reader || wc: 0.9k

warnings: established relationship, character death

a/n: dedicated to @lumpiang-toge’s collab event! 💙 click here to check their masterlist!

He went home at 3AM, tired and drained from his morning work, afternoon grading, and patrolling at night. He had found you reheating his favorite food, wearing your favorite nightgown, hair tied up, and humming a familiar song that you and he always listen to. Your wedding song.

Completely unaware of the man watching by the doorway, you pat the black cat sitting by the cold kitchen counters. “You think he’s gonna be home tonight, Cloud?” You murmur.

Shouta smiled and crossed his arms. He had never counted the days, months, and years.

It feels long and short at the same time. Everything is always new. A domestic sight that he never expects to experience.

You looked so elegant. Softly chuckling whenever you hear Cloud purr at a fair distance whilst the wedding track plays in the background.

It all started when you gave him a damned bento box. You had no idea who he is. All you ever did was hand him food, arguing that if heroes like him that take night patrols should eat to protect the city.

Little did you know you’ll end up being that hero’s wife.

You stiffened when you felt familiar solid arms wrap around your waist. Shouta let out a small chuckle, kissing your neck and shoulder to relax.

“Welcome home, Eraser.” You say, turning off the stove to face his tall and muscular build. Your hands went to cup his face, giving a peck on his lips. “How’s work?”

Shouta snuggled on your neck like a needy kid begging for attention, tightening its grip on your waist, then let out an exasperated groan. “Still work. I told you I can reheat it myself.”

“I doubt. You’ll fall asleep again. It’ll really make our house on fire, Sho.” You nag, making the man chuckle.

“Besides, I need to take care of the needy erasure hero. Aren’t I?” You added, making the raven-haired man glance at your face. Moonlight dim illuminating from the kitchen windows made you look like an angel, completely captivating Shouta over and over again.

It’s bewitching.

“Yeah, you really need to take care of him. He’s hopeless without his wife.” He cooed, tugging off the strands of your hair to kiss your forehead and the tip of your nose.

“I feel entitled, Mr. Aizawa.” You chuckled as your face grew closer.

“You should, Mrs. Aizawa.”

Unable to restrain himself, he kissed your lips. All filled with longing, passion, and deep desire. Shouta felt a jumpstart when you responded with the same amount of love he had delivered. It was as if carnal desires had taken over his system.

He feels so lucky. Constantly asking himself what he did to have this kind of life. It was everything he least to hope for, but you pulled him out of the darkness, stayed with his misery, and gave him the most sincere and genuine smile.

But now was too late. Everything is gone.

The slightest he could ever think of is to live a normal life. Pursuing to be an underground hero was hard enough to maintain, let alone a wife who had exchanged vows with him in sickness and in death.

Death. Why is it he’s always late when he’s in need?

“I’m really a hopeless hero, aren’t I…” he whispers, kneeling in the mix of mud and blood, holding his wife’s cold body in his lap, softly and lightly begging for you to wake up.

“I can’t even save my wife.” He adds, letting out a bitter smile. The crimson glowing eyes start to fade, and the usual dry eyes are suddenly filled with fluid building around the corner of his dark and sleep-deprived orbs, tears ultimately flowing down.

Hizashi and Kayama stood helplessly. Looking away as they watch their friend lose another important person, again.

You had always admired his heroic duties outside the media. Shouta is genuinely a diligent and respectable hero, and despite not being a hero yourself, you did your best to be his inspiration.

To protect and help those who are in need. Even if it means taking your life.

“If only I arrived fast enough, things wouldn’t be far worse than this.” He whispers, bloody and calloused hands running through your messy chignon. “No..”

“If only I haven’t bothered your world and stayed away from-”

“Sho, you know y/n willingly chose you.” Hizashi softly says, tapping his best friend's shoulder.

“No. If I haven’t married her, y/n won’t be taken as a hostage.” He firmly said.

Cold and blazing orbs looked ahead at the ruined streets and destroyed buildings. Of all the casualties avoided, why does it have to be your life in exchange?

A shining band shines through your finger. A simple gold ring with his and your initials engraved. The ring where you both had worn for each other. Shouta stood midway, realizing all the vows he had promised.

“It would make you sad if I isolate myself again, aren’t I?” He whispers, looking down on your pale and lifeless face.

“I guess an angel is back on her den already.” He adds. Even for a short moment, you made his nights warm. Shouta went to kiss your lips, just at least this one last time.

“Angels are meant to guide one's endeavors, right? Help this hopeless erasure hero get through this y/n..” He whispers with a strained voice. Looking at the crimson skies before he lays you down on the ambulance bed.

He let out a sad smile, intertwining his hand around yours while he watched the beautiful sunset dyed in a scarlet color, the likes which they had never seen in the skies of Musutafu.

It was warm and filled with so much passion. It was as if you painted the skies scarlet like his glowing crimson eye.

There are tons of things he is sorry about and lots of things he is thankful for.

But among it, marrying you was the best decision he ever made.

“Guide me until we meet again, my muse.”

[tomurasprincess]

Masked Deception (Shigaraki x Reader)

Summary: Masquerade balls were something you’d only ever heard about in movies. You couldn’t deny the prospect was intriguing; donning your most elegant attire, confidence boosted by your anonymity and the intoxication brought on by such a magical atmosphere. You and your fellow partygoers were almost doomed to desire, inhibitions washed away long before the wine and spirits start to flow.

The mystery, majesty, and potential for mischief were far too enticing to resist.

So, when you received an invitation to Midnight’s Masquerade, you didn’t think twice about accepting…

Pairing: Shigaraki x Reader Rating: Explicit + Word Count: 4k Warnings: Dubcon (due to mistaken identity), degradation, semi-public sex, rough sex, biting, yandere Note: My entry for @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten​‘s Citrus Dome Masquerade collab! The masterlist can be found here. Yes, I am writing Shigaraki, try to contain your surprise. Thanks: To @ichor-and-symbiosis for talking over the idea with me and suggesting the mask, and to @hisoknen for beta reading for me!

When you received the fancy, gilded invitation you’re holding in your hand, you couldn’t help but be shocked. Midnight’s Masquerade is a rather exclusive event, and there will be quite a few big names mingling around among the crowd tonight.

Of course, it will be hard to tell with everyone wearing masks.

Still though, you’re excited to be included. You’re not a minor hero by any means, but you’re hardly ready for the top 20 leaderboard. At least not yet. You have every hope of eventually making a name for yourself as a pro-hero.

And so with a sense of pure excitement, you walk into the ballroom. You chose a beautiful floor length purple dress with intricate beadwork through the bust and down the front. It has a bit of a train behind it, but part of the bottom half easily detaches in case you need to fight. Not that you believe it will be necessary at an event crawling with heroes, but you like to be prepared.

The ballroom itself is magnificent. The ceiling is domed with various gold inlaid designs, and the huge chandeliers have crystals that dangle down and catch the light.

People mingle everywhere, all dressed in finery that you couldn’t hope to afford, with beautifully elaborate masks. Your own mask is rather simple, mostly silver colored with hints of red throughout. You glance down at the rest of your attire, almost feeling dressed down, before you shake your head and head to the dance floor, determined to have a good time. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, after all.

You dance for what feels like forever, but is likely only an hour or so before you get thirsty. But as you make your way over to the drink table, you’re stopped by one of the other partygoers.

“You quitting already? I was hoping to dance with you!” The man grabs your wrist and tries to pull you towards the dance floor. He’s obviously had too much to drink already, as he sways on his feet when you pull your wrist from his grip.

“Not interested,” you remark flatly as you turn to walk away. But he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into his body roughly, refusing to let go when you try to pull away. Your eyes scan the crowd, hoping for someone to notice and put a stop to this before you have to cause a scene, but nobody meets your eyes.

“If you knew who I was, you wouldn’t be refusing me, you know,” he growls a bit in your ear. His hand moves slowly down your back and you cringe a bit in disgust. The spiked heel of your shoe comes down hard on his ankle, and he lets out a hiss of pain but still doesn’t let you go, grip merely digging in harder.

“You whore, I’m a top hero and you’re probably a nobody,” he snarls at you as his grip becomes painful, “you should be honored I’m even paying attention to you.”

“Is this what hero society has become?” You hear a scoff from behind you. You turn around to see a man dressed in an all black suit, standing off to the side with his arms crossed against his chest. He’s wearing a kintsugi mask, red with wispy silver lines spreading out along the surface. The kintsugi symbolizes broken pieces coming back together even stronger and more beautiful than before, and it makes you wonder what in the man’s history caused him to choose such a mask.

What appears to be blue hair is pulled back into a simple, slicked back ponytail, and his red eyes underneath the mask are sharp and calculating, like he’s seeing right through you. You feel a sense of unease but also a thrill go through you at his regard. “You harass some woman, and all the other pathetic heroes look the other way?”

“This isn’t any of your business, so why don’t you just walk away,” the man still holding on to you threatens, “before I make you - “

He doesn’t even finish his sentence before the red eyed man shoots out at him, landing a blow to the back of his head so quickly that you can barely follow it with your eyes. He instantly lets go, falling to the floor with a loud thud that causes everyone around you to stare at the scene.

“I think the poor hero here had too much to drink,” he chuckled, “guess he can’t hold his alcohol.” Nobody questions his version of events, and a few attendants come to pick up the unconscious man on the floor.

You’re led away from the crowd by the intense man over to the hors d'oeuvres table, where you grab some water. You’re keenly aware of him watching your every movement, and you shift slightly back and forth as you drink, trying to calm yourself down from the earlier incident.

“Thanks for stepping in, by the way.”

“It’s nothing,” he scoffs, “this party is boring and I like to fuck with holier-than-thou heroes.”

You try to hold in your laughter, but you fail. “To be fair, I do too. There’s so many of them lately who just care about fame and will step over anyone to get it.”

“Is that so?” A hint of curiosity enters the man’s voice. “A hero being negative about the other heroes, go figure.”

“I don’t think I’m being negative, just honest. And it doesn’t help that my quirk,” you trail off before you finish your sentence, aware that you were about to say too much that might reveal who you are.

“Your quirk? Let me guess, you don’t have a particularly powerful one?” He muses on the question before dismissing it instantly. “Nah, I don’t think that’s it. Don’t have a particularly heroic one, maybe?”

He laughs quietly when you stiffen up at that, and you’re secretly glad that he can’t see your full expression through the mask. It’s been a sore spot for you ever since you got your hero license. You had to fight twice as hard to get recognized, even though all you ever wanted to do was use your quirk for good.

“Got it that time,” he says smugly. “So let me guess, you’re not well liked by the other heroes because of it? Held back, maybe?”

You desperately try to think of a retort, some argument you can make against this man who has a dangerous level of perception. But you can think of nothing, and you finally turn your head away from him only to hear him chuckle.

“Even with a mask, you’re easy to read, princess. Why are you here, then? You seem just as bored as I am.”

“No, that’s not true,” you retort back, “it’s a big honor to be invited here.”

“A big honor, huh? Interesting that you didn’t argue about being bored.”

“I - of course I’m not bored,” you lie through your teeth. The man is right, of course. You already want to leave, especially after what happened earlier, but you feel obligated to stay for a bit longer.

“You’re a bad liar,” the man notes, “and that’s unusual for a hero.”

“Let me ask you the same question, then. If you hate the heroes so much, why are you here?” You shoot back in irritation. “And why haven’t you left?”

He gives an indifferent shrug but doesn’t actually answer the question. “Maybe I haven’t left because I’m trying to get you alone,” he smirks at you as you feel your face heat up under the mask.

“And why would you want to do that?” You say softly as you take a single step closer. For some reason, despite not knowing anything about this man, you are interested in knowing more.

He takes several steps forward as well, before reaching around to grab your ass and pull you roughly into him. You feel him grind his hips against you, and you can feel the hardened bulge there. “I can think of a few reasons,” he whispers. ”You interested? Or are you going to be like the rest of these boring ass heroes?”

This is a bad idea, you know it is. Every instinct in you is telling you that there is something dangerous about this man. But that only makes you want to do it more. “Maybe I am interested,” you laugh in a teasing tone. “What about it?”

“Then why don’t we go somewhere a little more private, hmm?” The man asks you slyly as he guides you out of the ballroom and down a series of corridors. He pulls you into an empty bedroom, with an ornate four poster bed dominating one side along with a grand fireplace and windows big enough to let moonlight stream through the entire room. You hear a click as he locks the door, and then he’s on you like a flash.

He pins you up against a table, lifting you up and settling in between your legs as he begins to kiss you. There’s a desperation to it, a sense of passion that you have never experienced before. He’s downright feral as he dominates your mouth, tongue wrapping around your own as he drags his teeth across your lower lip. When he finally pulls away, you’re both breathless and panting.

You’re surprised when he pulls the train off your dress off with one sharp yank as he drops to his knees in front of you. “These are mine now,” he slips your panties down before pocketing them, smirking when he sees your confused look. “A bit of a party favor.”

In an instant, his mouth is on the heated flesh between your legs and you lose the ability to say anything back. He uses one hand to spread open your folds before licking his way up. He barely grazes your clit with his tongue, and chuckles as you whine when he pulls away. “So needy for me,” he murmurs as he slips a finger inside of you. “And so wet already.”

He attaches his lips to your clit, applying firm suction around the swollen bead, the sudden shout you make at the pleasure has you hoping nobody heard you. You wrap your hand in his hair, trying to force him to stay between your legs as he devours you like a man starved.

He makes up for what seems like a lack of experience by sheer enthusiasm, sucking hard at your clit as he slips another finger into your pussy. You throw your head back and begin to moan as he pumps his fingers inside of you, letting out a sharper gasp when he grazes that soft, spongy spot inside of you.

You see his eyes through the mask instantly go calculating before he deliberately curls his fingers up and repeatedly hits that spot. The tension in you is quickly building up as you feel yourself tighten around him when he adds in a third finger.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans at the feeling of your walls sucking his fingers in. “I can’t wait to feel your sweet little cunt gripping my cock like this.”

His words cause your lower stomach to clench, making him realize how close you are as he increases his pace and reattaches his mouth to your clit. As he licks the juices flooding out of you, moaning into your heated flesh like you’re the most delicious meal he’s ever had. The vibration is enough to send you over the edge as your pussy flutters around his fingers, legs clamping around his head as you shake.

He doesn’t stop even after your orgasm is over, relentlessly licking and sucking at your clit until you’re whining and trying to pull away from him. “Too much, too sensitive,” you hiss out, but he refuses to budge, continuing to slam his fingers against your g-spot until you’re pushed over the edge yet again, pussy gushing around his fingers.

“That was so fucking hot,” he growls as he stands up and begins to unbuckle his pants. He rips the bottom half of your dress open to allow him easier access as he slowly pumps his cock in his fist.

“You fucking asshole, do you know how much that dress costs?”

“So sorry, princess,” he snorts with not a hint of remorse as he removes his cock from his pants and gives it a stroke, grinning as your eyes lower to watch the movement. He’s painfully hard, thick vein running up his length throbbing and pulsing. His cockhead is already dripping precum, and you can’t help but lick your lips at the sight.        

He runs his cockhead up your folds, stopping long enough to prod at your puffy clit and sending it more zings of pleasure up your body. He collects your wetness as he begins to push into your throbbing pussy, sliding in easily because of how aroused you are. You can tell he wants to be slow, let you adjust, but he reaches the limit of his restraint as he grips your hips and thrusts himself the rest of the way inside of you in one quick snap of his hips.

Despite how wet you are, you still let out a sharp hiss of pain at the feeling of him stretching you and bottoming out inside of you. He gives you a mere second to adjust before he starts pounding into you, gripping your hip with one powerful hand and digging in hard enough that it hurts. You know you’re going to be bruised and sore after this, and the thought riles you up even more.

He reaches up to cup your breasts, squeezing the nipple in between two fingers as he trails kisses down your neck. You can feel him suck and bite down the column of your neck, knowing full well that he’s leaving all sorts of hickies that will be seen by anyone who looks. You want to be mad, but everything feels so good that you can’t even begin to protest.

“You’re taking my cock so damned well,” he praises you, causing you to clench down around him. “Do you want to see me? See who I really am?” Your eyes widen at the suggestion before you nod, reaching for his mask. He doesn’t stop you, allowing you to slip the mask off his head. When you see who he really is, your heart seems to stop beating for a second, your world narrowing down to nothing but his face.

Tomura Shigaraki, the leader of the League of Villains, is ravaging your cunt like he owns you.

“Oh my god,” you suck in a breath, “you - you’re Shigaraki.”

He lets out a malicious laugh as he digs into your hips even harder when you try to pull away from him. “Call me Tomura. Only fair since I’m balls deep inside you right now.”

“You - you tricked me,” you stammer, a slight edge of fear entering your voice that you don’t even try to hide. “Are you going to kill me?”

He changes his angle just enough to hit that sensitive spot, drilling into your walls with every single thrust. “Why would I, when this cunt feels so fucking good?” Your eyes roll back into your head, legs shaking from the pressure building back up inside of you.

“You’re such a - hnggg, shit - such a fucking asshole.”

“Am I? I could always stop, you know.” He begins to slow his pace, causing you to lose what was promising to be a truly intense orgasm. You let out a whine as you try to push back into him, and he holds you in place as he watches you. “Do you want me to stop?” He sounds so arrogant, so sure of himself that you almost want to tell him to go fuck himself instead. But he has you right where he wants you, and he knows exactly what your answer is going to be.

You realize exactly how much of a terrible idea this is, knowing that you should be disgusted, horrified of a villain taking advantage of you like this. But everything just feels too good, too intense. “Don’t fucking stop, damnit,” you growl at him as he smirks and begins to move again. “That’s a good girl.”

You stop trying to push him away, instead choosing to wrap your arms around the back of his neck, legs coming around to dig your heels into his back. “Harder,” you command, and he instantly obliges you as he pulls almost all the way out of your dripping heat before slamming back balls deep, hitting your cervix and causing a pained whine to leave your throat. But even the pain feels amazing.

“Who knew a hero would like villain cock so much? I bet you’ve wanted someone to fuck you like this for a while, huh? A hero certainly never would.”

You let out a slight growl at his words as you shake your head. “Why don’t you just shut up and fuck me already?”

“Why don’t you just admit it?” He retorts back, laughing as you glare at him.  He sighs as you refuse to say a word, pulling all the way out of you.

“Ahh, I guess you really don’t want this villain’s cock, now do you?” He reaches for his belt buckle, as if he intends to get dressed and leave you here, still burning for release and needy for him.

“Fuck, you really are a bastard,” you hiss at him. “Fine, I want your villain cock. I want you to fuck me already.” You let out a sharp gasp as he yanks you off the table, slamming you down face first against it and bending you over. He trails his still rock hard cock along your dripping folds, but still doesn’t enter you.

“Fuck, please, I need you,” you finally give up all pretense of shame, resorting to sheer desperate begging. “Tomura, please, I need you.” At the mention of his name, he grabs your shoulders as he buries himself inside of you again with one powerful thrust.

There is no precision to his movements anymore, just pure animalistic thrusting. It’s all you can do to hold on, nails causing marks in the wood table as you grip it. His heavy balls slap your clit with every thrust, and you can feel the pressure building back up inside of you quickly.

“Hngg, god, fuck yes,” you pant, barely able to keep up with the force of his movement. Yet you still try, pushing your hips back to meet every thrust into your aching cunt. “Feels so good, fuck Tomura, don’t stop - “

His grunts become deeper, his pace inside of you becoming more erratic as he changes his angle slightly to hit that sensitive, spongy patch deep inside of you. It’s enough to finally unravel you, and your orgasm hits you full force. You squeal as your muscles tighten, only able to remain on your shaky legs by clutching the table.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, not going to last - “

“Please cum,” you whine, “cum inside of me, fill me up, Tomura -”

He lets out a surprised hiss of air as he grips your hips, giving several more thrusts inside of you before you feel his cock between to twitch and hot ropes of cum filling you up. He fucks you through his orgasm, milking his cock until he’s spent. Overstimulated, he finally pulls out of you as he leans into the table for support, breath coming in fast pants.

You’re in no better shape either, legs so wobbly that you couldn’t hope to walk at this point. So you settle for lowering yourself down the floor to regain your breath. He stares at you for a long moment before doing the same, stretching out beside you.

You don’t speak for several minutes, content to lay side by side as you try to come down from both of your highs. But when you do, you’re surprised by what you end up asking him. “So what now?” You glance at him, only to see him shrug.

“Well now, I guess you have a choice then, don’t you hero? You could go call the heroes in here, try to have me arrested. Go on with your boring little hero life that we both know you’re not cut out for.”

You wait for him to continue, but he says nothing more. “Or what? You said I had a choice.”

“Or you could pretend that you never met me here and let me go. Would certainly be easier for me not to have to fight my way out,” he says so nonchalantly that you almost wouldn’t believe he was talking about fighting through an entire mansion of heroes.

“And if I did that, what’s in it for me?”

“The chance to be more than some pathetic little hero wannabe.” He straddles your legs, running four fingers down your chest, with his pinky hovering close by. “The heroes will never appreciate you. Not like I will.” You know you should feel afraid with the most wanted criminal in Japan pinning you down, running his lethal hands over your body. All it would take is one single inch, one single slip of his finger, and you would be ash underneath him. But you strangely feel no fear whatsoever. The thought both terrifies and thrills you all at once.

You both turn to the door as one when you hear shouting coming down the hall, screaming about a villain attack. He glances at you, completely calm as he waits to see what you’ll do, what choice you’ll make. He doesn’t try to stop you as you stand up, straightening your dress as much as possible. He doesn’t even make a move to escape.

“Go,” you finally say reluctantly. “Get out of here and I’ll distract them by pointing them in the wrong direction.” You expect a triumphant smirk, a look of disdain on his face for tricking the stupid hero. But as you glance at him one last time, you see something surprising. He’s smirking at you, yes, but there’s something underneath. A look of possessiveness, screaming that you belong to him now and that there’s no escape. Rather than fear, you feel a bolt of excitement run through your body.

But the look is gone as quick as it comes, and he’s turning away from you towards a window before he pauses yet again. “Oh yeah, don’t forget this - my little hero.” The mocking tone behind the word hero is clear, as if he no longer quite believes you fall under that title anymore.

To be honest, you don’t even believe it. Not after fucking him, not after letting him go.

He throws something at you, and you catch it effortlessly before glancing down at the object you’re holding: your purse. You glance up to ask him why he made sure to throw it at you, but he’s already gone, window swinging open in the breeze. You walk over and close it before heading out and back into the ballroom.

The place is utter chaos, people running everywhere and trying to organize search parties across the mansion to find the breach. Everybody seems out in full force, security and unmasked heroes all working together.

“Excuse me, hero,” you turn around to see Midnight herself walk up to you, and you instantly feel a sense of unease that she knows something. “Is there anything wrong?”

“No, nothing wrong. I was just trying to figure out what was going on.”

“There’s been a villain attack, but we’re not sure why yet. Have you seen anything strange?”

You give a quick nod. “No, I haven’t seen anything. Sorry I can’t be of more help.”

Her gaze turns sharp, taking in your disheveled state, your torn dress, and you know you’re about to be discovered. She’s about to say something and then you’re done for, thrown out of hero society for good.

But she simply smiles at you and then turns to walk away.

It isn’t until after she’s already long gone that you realize your neck is covered in hickies.

After a few more questions, you’re free to leave. You wait until you’re all the way home before you remember you’re still clutching your purse, recalling how deliberate it was that he threw it to you. And so you check it, unsurprised to find a note scrawled with hasty writing. What does surprise you, however, is the way it makes you smile.

You can find me at this location. If you’re ready to be free from hero society, then meet me there.

This isn’t actually an option. You’re mine now. Don’t keep me waiting.

PS: Plus, I still have your panties.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Tags: @thewheezingwyvern, @vixen-scribbles, @ttamaki, @lildreamer93​, @kittygonyan, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love, @daedaep69, @heyybrittannia, @groovydreamertrash, @hisoknen, @chou-maitresse, @togasknifes, @kingtamakimurder, @shigaraki-is-my-master, @kittycatkrissa, @reinawritesbnha, @yanderart, @drxwsyni​, @dabilove27, @fae-father, @anxietyplusultra, @flutterfalla​, @angmarwitch, @nereida19, @dabis-kitten, @bakugos-cumsock, @yumeneji

[hqbbg]

big and bad.

pairing: matsukawa issei x reader

summary: the woods are a dark place.

genre: fantasy

word count: 1.6K

warnings: i didn’t have this beta’d and this was completed at 5:30am so there might be mistakes but uh, none otherwise that i can think of (but please message me to correct me)

author’s note: heyo! 🤪 I’m back with another HQHQ server collab fic! you can check out the other amazing writers’ works here! i have our dear mattsun for both collabs (and both parts are now posted)!! n e ways as always, I hope you guys enjoy! 💕

part two (18+)

Your legs are shaking and you can feel your knees threatening to give out. The cold air burns your lungs as you continue to run through the dark forest, swatting at branches in your way. You don’t know how long you’ve been running, but you know for a fact that you wish you hadn’t skipped gym class all those years ago in grade school.

After what feels like ages, you finally see a dim light ahead of you through the foliage. As if hit with a sudden burst of energy, you try to push through and feel so close to the end, the light practically within reach. Just as you’re about to get to it, your path is suddenly blocked and you’re shrouded in darkness once again. Halting to a stop, you panic, trying to get a grasp of what just happened.

Suddenly, you no longer feel alone and feel every nerve ending stand on edge. Your heart is pounding in your ears and you do everything in your power to refrain from doubling over to catch your breath. The sound of a branch breaking startles you and you whip around.

“You know, it’s not safe for people to be out alone in the woods at this hour.” You’re unsure of what you’re expecting, but it’s definitely not the silhouette of a tall man standing before you.

You open your mouth to speak, but no sound comes out.

“What shall I do with you?” His voice drawls lazily and in any other situation, you might consider being comforted by it.

While you can’t see him, you hear him move. He seems to be circling you and you do your best to remain facing him, though you’re beginning to feel your head spin.

“What’s the matter, doll?” You can practically hear him smirking. “Cat got your tongue?” You jump when his voice sounds right up against your ear.

Before you can react, you feel hands grab you and open your mouth to scream, only to jolt up from your bed in a cold sweat. Your heart is still pounding in your chest and you’re breathing heavily.

It was only a dream.

Laying back down, you sigh softly to yourself. Just as you’re about to close your eyes to go back to sleep, you hear your alarm go off and groan. Great.

You practically throw the blanket off and toss your legs over the edge of the bed, willing yourself up to begin your day. Glancing out your bedroom window, your eyes warily linger on the trees of the forest below before you force yourself to get washed up.

When your parents had asked for you to drop by for lunch, you were more than willing to accept, never one to turn down free food. However, as you begin your walk down the sidewalk towards the bus stop alongside the thick brush of trees, you feel a chill run down your spine and you want to go back home. Something just simply doesn’t feel right.

Swallowing your paranoia, you quicken your pace until you arrive at the small bus stop. You can’t help but feel as if you’re being watched, but when you look around, there’s hardly anyone around and their attention is fixed elsewhere. You hesitate for a moment before turning to glance towards the thicket of trees behind you and nearly jump when you meet a pair of dark gold eyes looking back at you. When you blink, they’re gone and the bus arrives.

Throughout the whole lunch, you do your best to forget the morning’s events. Your parents notice that something is off, but you brush it off with an excuse of just being tired. It’s true; you’ve been exhausted these past couple weeks with moving into your apartment while still trying to maintain the various responsibilities of life. Maybe that would explain the paranoia and the hallucinations—that’s what that was earlier, right?

As you step off the bus, the air feels colder and the sun is already setting. Where has the day gone? You should’ve left your parents’ home sooner before the sun had begun its descent. The streetlights around you flicker on to illuminate the sidewalk, but you see that your path home is blocked due to road work that’s scheduled to last all night long.

You resist the urge to let out a groan. It looks like the construction extends through the whole main road and the designated detour will take you an extra half hour to walk around. You look warily to your right towards the heavily wooded area that separates you and your building, hesitating momentarily. In all honesty, it would be faster to simply cut through the trees and if you’re quick, you might be able to make it before total nightfall.

Weighing your options, you figure you’re just being extra paranoid because of your dream—or rather, nightmare—and simply inhale deeply before stepping off the concrete towards the brush.

The wind whistles lowly and the setting feels eerily familiar. As you listen to the crunching of leaves and fallen branches under your feet, you’re reminded of the stories your grandmother had told you as a child.

“Beware of the big bad wolf,” she had said, though her sing-song voice hardly instilled the same fear that was snowballing within yourself at the moment.

You feel like you’ve been walking for nearly ten minutes, so you should be near the edge of the forest now. However, with the sun finally set, it’s harder for you to navigate your steps and the gnawing in your chest blooms. You try to maintain a straight path, but you could’ve sworn that you passed the same tree five minutes ago.

Deciding to take a brief break, you pull out your phone to check the time and ideally pull up a map to help you navigate your way out. Unfortunately, you have no signal so your phone is deduced into nothing but a glorified clock.

As you had felt this morning, it seems like you’re being watched, followed. When you glance around, you’re alone. Right as you turn back around to face forward, putting your phone back into your pocket, you let out a scream in surprise when a man is standing before you, golden eyes looking directly at you.

“I wasn’t expecting visitors so soon.”

There’s no mistaking that you know this voice; it sounds exactly like the one from your dream. It’s hard to see him clearly, but you can make out the familiar outline of his tall figure as your eyes steadily adjust. You see him take a step forward, making you instinctively take a step back.

“No need to be afraid, sweetheart. I don’t bite.” The low rumble of his voice sends a shiver down your spine. He takes another step forward into a small area illuminated by moonlight seeping through the blankets of leaves above and you can finally see his face.

He has a lazy and almost bored look donning on his features, the upwards tilt of the right corner of his lips being the only thing indicating his amusement at the fear in your eyes. His eyes seem to rake over you, as if evaluating you.

“Are you going to kill me?” You try to steady your trembling voice, unable to look away from him.

“Kill you?” He muses as he takes another step forward. You take another step back. “What’s the fun in that?”

“Well, if you’re looking for fun, I have an idea or two,” you say, trying to look for a way out.

“Do you now?” The man is now smirking. “Enlighten me.”

“For starters, you keep me alive.” He chuckles but it does nothing to calm your racing heart. “Second, you either tell me who you are and how to get out of here, or just cut the formalities and go straight to telling me how to get out of here.”

He laughs as he takes another step forward, taking you another step back. You feel your eyes widen when your back presses up against a tree you were sure wasn’t there before.

“How cute,” he says as his laughter dies down. “I think you’ll be fun to keep around for a little longer.”

He takes two more steps forward until he’s towering directly over you, propping his elbow against the bark above your head. He leans down to be at eye level with you and you can feel his breath fan over your face. You turn your head slightly, wanting to avoid him in any way you possibly can.

“Issei.”

“Excuse me?” Looking up at him with a frown on your face, you realize just how close he is and feel your cheeks heat at the proximity.

“My name. I think you’ve earned it.”

You’ve hardly done anything, so you’re not sure what that means. Before you can question him further, he cocks his head to the side slightly.

“Tell me, doll. What’s someone like you doing in a place like this?”

“Currently looking for a way out of here,” you answer truthfully. You know better than to trust a stranger, especially given the circumstances you’re in and the alarms are blaring in your head.

“You’re sure you don’t want to stay? I’m pretty convincing and can make it worth your while.” He smirks down lazily at you.

“I highly doubt that and would like to see you try,” you say, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. Perhaps you could’ve worded your sentence differently, a fact emphasized when he leans in dangerously closer to your face so you can feel the ghost of his lips brush yours whenever he speaks.

Your instincts are screaming at you to move, but it’s as if your brain and limbs are disconnected, failing to cooperate.

“Don’t tempt me,” his voice lowers. You hesitantly lift your eyes to meet his and see that they’ve darkened.

Well, that can’t be good.