#so the bother of it was outweighed and ignored.

[yanderenightmare]

does bakugos protectiveness mean he won’t get intimate with reader? like does he see them more as like …. a fragile pet/person to look after?

Bakugou Katsuki

♡ TW: nsfw, noncon, immobilization, yandere, captive reader, quirkless reader, grief, discrimination, drawn comparisons between quirklessness and disabilities, implied bakudeku, drugging, needles, hypochondriasis adjacet, also angst

♡ manga spoilers in a way, but also not really. anyway, read at your own discretion.

♡ part one

♡ fem reader

Despite all his lingering stares, the way he washes you in the bath and holds you at night, and the bulge you feel press against your ass—he hadn’t taken it further, and you’d started thinking he never would. His worries for your health might be so restricting he believes an act such as sex would be too exhausting and harmful for you. Sometimes, on his more rigid days, he doesn’t even allow you to walk on your own. So you wouldn’t put it beyond him.

But then, one night four months in, it comes. Creeping in slowly. You’re left wondering about it for a moment, lying there in anticipation as his large hands roam more than usual—over the plush of your thighs, up the small of your waist. The bed shifts as he slots himself closer—you think you might feel his heart thunk at your back. His breath comes with wet heat against your ear, his words even more so, drenched in arousal, yet oddly restrained, “Can I… touch you?”

He's so hesitant about it. Something in his voice, something so careful, makes you feel you can take it as an actual question and not one of his usual orders in disguise. Even so, you hesitate in return. But after a minute of contemplation, you decide to take advantage of the offered choice. Whispering back a firm and trying “No.”

You await his reaction warily—the possibility of him ignoring you is still very much plausible despite his caution.

But then… his touches recede to their designated places—to their normal hold, to the one of a simple dragon guarding treasure and nothing more. He releases a pent-up breath, then takes another deep one before settling.

“Okay.”

It seems somewhat anticlimactic. You’re not entirely sure you believe it. But as you wait for him to go against his own word, he doesn’t do anything but hold you like any other night, and then, a while later, you hear him snore.

You suppose it was expected. If your theory is correct and he doesn’t want to put you through the strain, it would only make sense he definitely wouldn’t do it if you were going to fight back on top of it. And as he doesn’t use the sedatives without deeming it utterly necessary, you can’t see him regard his horniness as a need that would justify its means.

Which can only then mean he wouldn’t touch you like that without consent. Perhaps the only saving grace in it all.

Or at least that was what you thought…

You’re both in the tub. You’d since allowed his thorough bath rituals without fighting back. Those times you’d bothered in the beginning, he’d used a sedative each time and left you as limp as a puppet. And even though you didn’t enjoy having any part of it, going through with it consciously was better than the alternative. And so you sit there, letting him lather and rub—trying to ignore the fact that his callused hands are twice your size and that he’s entirely naked, paired with the occasional feeling of his cock bumping into your lower back.

“There’s a lot’a health benefits to it…”

There he goes again. Health this, health that—constantly. He’ll most likely never let up on convincing you, no matter how much you declare you don’t need any of this inane insanity he calls protection.

“Sex, I mean…”

Your ears draw back at that. What… what did he just say? Your skin tightens around you, crawling with shivers even in the hot water. Health benefits… Sex…

You don’t like the sound of that. You thought he’d decided the means outweighed the need—his need, which is, in fact, not a need at all but a selfish desire. Similar to your desire to drink coffee or eat cake—both things you’re no longer allowed to do since it’s not compatible with your health regimen. Sex, as was decided, is also not compatible with your health regimen.

“It improves the immune system, lowers the risk of heart disease, decreases depression, makes you sleep better…” he mutters behind you. “Also… it’ll help you settle.”

“What are you talking abou—” Your outcry is cut off by the needle deep in your arm. The liquid enters you quickly and taints your bloodstream shortly thereafter. You watch him pull it out and place it gently on the neatly folded stack of towels beside the tub. Your breath is forcibly subdued before it has the chance to flare with the panic rioting your chest. The only protest leaving is a wasted “No…”

“I’m sorry…” he apologizes, wrapping his thick arms around your softened body before it could collapse forward, pulling you close while pressing his forehead between your slumped shoulder blades. “But this is for your own good.”

You don’t know whether he’s trying to convince you or himself. When he subjects you to all his other methods, he does so with impenetrable justification—as though religiously, sanctioned, with a rigid belief of what he’s doing. But now he seems more torn—as if he’s sullying himself with dubious intent, not entirely able to hide from his own ulterior motives.

He carries your limp body out of the bath in a fluffy towel. Your eyes are half-mast and blurry at times, but still, you can see it, written plainly on his face—guilt. No, not of the tiny needle hole he’d made in your arm—that shame is more fleeting, more of a grit-teethed all’s fair in love and war. This look on his face was different from that—weighted with a burden he still isn’t sure if’s worth it.

He lays you down softly on the bed, then takes a step back, swallowing thickly.

His shoulders look braced from what you can tell when looking down at where he stands at the foot end—overall uncomfortable in his stance, looking as though he doesn’t want to be there, as though he shouldn’t be there. Maybe he’s changed his mind? Maybe the guilt has fostered regret? Maybe he won’t go through with it after all?

The bed sinks to accommodate his weight. You feel it swallow you from beneath as if you’re drowning in the sheets. You feel heavy enough for it to be true—heavy like lead, unmovable. And yet, Bakugou moves you all too easily. Parting your thighs as if they didn’t have any gravity to them whatsoever, placing them atop his own as he shuffles in close.

You want to scream, but you can only cry silently. You feel so betrayed—that’s what gets you most. Familiarity in what you’d always known about how to live had been stripped away, leaving you to Bakugou’s rules and regulations—which weren’t much to find comfort in. Still, you had felt you could in the least trust in them, in his mania, in this unshakable need of his to keep you safe and healthy. But now he was breaking that trust.

“You aren’t comfortable with me yet. That’s the issue,” he says—insists on it. And it’s very clear now—he doesn’t even have himself assured. You can see it on his face, behind his eyes, racking his brain, grasping at straws.

Your skin ignites with goosebumps as he trails up both your thighs—his red stare rimmed with unease, brows cinched, looking at the place between you. His mouth hangs slightly open—you hear the shallow breaths seeping in and out, thicker and thicker with heat.

“We need this.”

That’s different. We have never been a part of it before. It’s always been you first and foremost and then him as an afterthought. Your chest churns again with the same sensation of back-stabbing—this isn’t right—he’s breaking all the rules! He said he wouldn’t—he promised he wouldn’t!

You squeeze your eyes shut with all the might the drug allows you when you feel his gritty finger filter through your slit. His warmth tells you he’s leaning down close, then the sensation of his mouth wrapping your nipple, soaking it in spit, even hotter than the steaming tub from earlier.

“I want to make you feel good—I need you to be happy,” he moans around the nub, sucking it into a pretty pebble before doing the same with the other—leaving them both glossy. “To smile. And laugh. You aren’t healthy if you don’t want to live.”

You can feel the bed shake beneath you, and you can tell from the tremor in his voice it’s from jerking himself—teasing your entrance with the other hand. You wince when his fingers enter you. The bathwater makes it easier—one digit first, testing you out, then quickly followed by the sting of another. It’s a stretch—after all, you haven’t done it in the many months since arriving here, and even before then, you’d been busy with work. You don’t remember how long it’s been, but it’s far long enough to make it feel both a little painful but also way overdue.

It's embarrassing how quickly you come undone. Two fingers barely doing anything but fill you out, and you’re already throttling them and cumming—wetting them with slickness of your own.

He pulls them out shortly. You don’t want to open your eyes, but the stillness that befalls the bed tells you everything of how he’s inspecting them with that god-awful doctoral leer in his eyes.

You think you hear the sounds of suction a second later—yes, definitely slurping.

You want to crawl in on yourself and die.

The hand returns, settling flatly upon your pelvis—a fat thumb nuzzling your pearled clit. And then something grazes the puffy lips below it—softly and slowly, ever-gently. Something hard. Something big. Something bulbous.

“This will hurt a little. But then you’ll feel good,” he cares to explain as if you’ve never done this before. It’s awful how soft and sweet he makes his tone, masking the brute—but the room is too quiet to hide behind, and you hear it anyway. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”

Liar.

Liar, liar, liar liar liar!

He nudges against your entrance to find purchase, a request soon granted—though it requires much more than what his digits did. A cry cracks from your chest and his movements halt. But that’s somehow worse—the slow burn is all but torture—you wish he’d rather do it quickly, in one full motion, like ripping off the band-aid. But no, he eases in, and the tear feels everlasting until it nudges right and tight against your womb.

“Fuck.” His whole body labors with his breaths, trying hard to restrain himself—and you suppose that’s something to be thankful for. “Fuck, that’s so nice…”

He, as well, hasn’t had a fuck in ages. Since before he met you.

He’d been too much of a wreck after the funeral when the realization had finally settled. Unfit in every sense of the word. Put on mandatory sick leave.

He had a month of binging. Too many hookups in poor taste and even shittier circumstances—sloshed at exclusive clubs, taking home the first person he could play pretend with. It was easiest with his fans—they remind him of him—how they fawn over him so wholeheartedly, cute nerds all too eager to let him use them.

Kirishima had beaten him half to death at some point, fed up with his bullshit—told him he was tainting his memory. His words hit harder than his fists. Set him straight. He’d sobered up, and then he’d gone back to work as the new number-one hero.

He had touched neither bottle nor another human being since. It had been all business.

And then he met you.

He hunkers down—his lips and nose brush along your neck in small kisses. “I love you,” he confesses under his breath, circling your clit under his thumb while his other hand dwarfs your hip tenderly. It’s the first time he says it out loud like that. It doesn’t mean much to you, or no, it means you want to twist away—but to him, it’s as if he’d said so under the climax of a romance, or maybe an even more dire intimacy than that, like the last breath he’d take before death, coated head to toe in blood, knowing he’d never be able to see you again.

All previous reservations are thrown as he pulls back and starts rocking forth slowly.

“Ah fuck—” he hisses. “I love you.”

The patterns drawn on your clit get messier—so do his kisses—sloppy and getting needier. The hand on your hips has to grip the mattress instead, supporting him while his breaths turn gruffer.

“I love you,” he keeps repeating, and you keep your eyes closed.

The bed rocks softly beneath you like you’re lying on a saucer swing—making you a little nauseous, and yet you feel it coming anew—the sweet tingling from below, simmering beneath Bakugou’s thumb.

Then his lulling picks up, veering on thrusting—just hard enough to make your skin softly clap upon meeting. It’s just enough friction to make you jerk again, seizing up and shivering on his cock. It jitters shortly, stutters, and then stills—and you feel it fill you—swarm you—hot and wet and spreading.

His chest rests on you—heavy and plump with brawn coated in sweat mixed with bathwater. It’s suffocating, yet you breathe fine, albeit in shambles, recovering from the toll.

“I love you,” he says a final time, breathless.

And you don’t know… something about the entire thing feels as though he’s talking to someone else.

♡ more thoughts on this ♡ BAKUGOU KATSUKI masterlist ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist

[sonotpattismith]

i'm still your girl (satoru gojo x reader)

if you have to leave— I wish that you would just leave because your presence still lingers here, and it won’t leave me alone.

word count: 7.5k inspired by: dancing with your ghost by sasha alex sloan & my immortal by evanescence warnings: angst, mentions of death, mourning, depression, smut, 18+ a/n: AHHH I LOVED THIS ONE SO MUCH! I really wanted to do something a little spooky for Halloween, even if it wasn't officially halloween themed :( I can't wait to hear everyone's thoughts! ILY!

You tried to ignore him at first. He would stare back at you through your reflection in the mirror, just as he once did when the two of you would get ready for bed. He used to smile at you over his foamed toothbrush when he’d catch you staring at him, mumbling unintelligibly with his mouth full of suds. It made you laugh nonetheless, and he would lean over to spit into the sink before repeating himself with a teasing glint in his sparkling eyes. 

Why stare at my reflection when you’ve got the real thing here, sweetcheeks?

But Satoru had been dead for two months, and he no longer had anything to say about the way you stared blankly back at his reflection. 

You cried the first time you had seen him. It was just in your peripheral as you climbed into what was once his side of the bed. His dominating presence loomed in the doorframe, as if awaiting an invitation to come join you. In the haze of your mourning, having only been back at you and Satoru’s shared home for three days since he’d been gone, you thought perhaps your mind was playing tricks on you. Still, there was no mistaking those glowing eyes and their tendency to follow you across whatever room you were in. 

That night, you could only pull the covers over your head, too afraid of the fragility of your own sanity to dare take another look. His presence lingered though, the waves of his energy enough to leave you trembling underneath the comforter, tears spilling onto the plush pillow that still held his scent. You never peaked out, but a part of you knew he never left that night, lingering in the doorway and haunting you once you’d successfully cried yourself to sleep. 

It went on like that for a while. You believing your sanity was simply waning in his absence, him believing you simply didn’t see him. So, he watched as you trudged through life— if that’s what you could call your melancholy existence holed up in what once was a shared space— trapped behind the perceived veil of life and death that his abrupt departure had left the two of you in. 

There wasn’t a definitive moment when he determined that you could in fact see his silent figure observing you and feel his energy weighing down the air around the house. It came in waves; Satoru would notice how your sidelong glances toward the corner of the room lingered too long to be considered just a sweep around the room. He took note of the way you’d avoid facing the door at night when you’d pretend to be sleeping. 

One night, as you laid on the sofa, dark-rimmed eyes mindlessly fluttering across the television screen, perhaps your grief had simply outweighed the logical part of your mind that said giving into delusions— no—hallucinations, was not a good call for your already declining mental state. Your feeling conscious enough to turn on the television was a new development, one that Satoru was grateful for. He wasn’t sure how long he could watch you stare stiffly up at the ceiling, only an occasional sigh or sniffle that told him you were still breathing. 

Your thumb ticked over title after title, not even bothering to read descriptions or watch trailers before you passed them up. The gentle clicking noise was beginning to scratch at his ears, and, if he could still bleed, he was sure it’d be covering his jaw and neck by now. But then it stopped. Glancing up from his unwavering gaze on your slumped figure, his cerulean eyes landed on the sight of what once was your favorite Halloween movie to watch together. It had become a tradition, every year around this time, the two of you would pull out the matching pajama pants he’d bought for you on your first fall together just for the viewing occasion. 

You would always pretend to be irritated with him as he leaned into your ear and dramatically recited every line as they were being acted out. Delicate hands would push at his face as you repressed an amused smile. He’d only turn his theatrics up a notch, letting out a blood-curdling scream in tandem with the main actresses— so loud it made you glad you two had moved out of your apartment and into a house just two years into your relationship. Your boisterous laughter would fill the room as he tackled you into his lap, shaking your shoulders dramatically. 

The memory hung in the space between you. On the screen before you, the title lingered, taunting the both of you with broken promises of what would have been your fifth year watching it together. The man’s gaze was pulled from the screen when he saw your head tilt out of the corner of his eye. Your cheek was still smushed against the cushion, but you had angled it just so, and he could swear you were staring at him from your peripheral— waiting, inviting. 

Satoru stepped forward, eyes never leaving your face as he sank down into the spot by your feet. It was the first time the both of you had acknowledged the arrangement fate had thrust upon you. Your eyes, now brimmed with tears, returned to the screen as you pressed play on the movie. 

You didn’t understand what he was. The first thought was a hallucination, but as his energy lingered, and you felt the warmth of his thighs against your feet as the film shot bursts of color and sound throughout the morose living room, you began to think that perhaps he was more real than you were giving your psyche credit for. 

The second theory was a curse, conjured up from the macabre sense of loss and void that had tunneled within your chest since his death. How fitting, you thought, to have your love haunt you in the very form of what brought him to his end. As you pretended to watch the movie, keeping a watchful peripheral eye on the man at the end of the couch, you decided you didn’t care enough to find out. If you did, you weren’t sure you’d be strong enough to exorcize him should your theory be correct. It felt nice to have him here with you, soulbound or not. 

Your subtle acknowledgement of him did nothing to shift the silent stares and subtle invitations into something more— both of you too fearful of what it would mean if you did. So, he still stalked behind you as you brushed your teeth every night, and he awaited your subtle nod as you picked out your nightly cinematic reminder of what you two once were. 

It began eating away at him. He’d watch your phone light up with messages, ring with calls, all from your friends begging to know how you were doing, if there was anything they could do for you. Each time though, you’d barely glance at the device before sighing softly. It felt as though the phone weighed a ton, and it would surely take all your energy to simply acknowledge them. You would get back to them tomorrow, you thought to yourself yesterday, as well as the day before that. 

It was becoming too much— watching the shell of the woman he loved— loves— wither away at the hands of his own demise. Satoru wondered if it would have been easier on you had you been given a proper goodbye, but at the time, he was too cowardly to face you with the notion of it. Although the sorcerer had been prepared to go toe to toe with the king of curses, he couldn’t find it in him to prepare you for the possibility of his own death. 

He wanted to grab you by the shoulders and shake you out of your trance— to tell him it wasn’t all because of him. You couldn’t have tossed away your soul because of him. 

The credits of the movie you’d been idly watching rolled to completion, and your eyes remained glued to the screen as though reading each name as it slowly dragged down. The television screen faded to black before the film restarted from the beginning. Satoru watched, waiting for you to grab the remote, change it, move, blink, cry— anything. Lights flashed across your blank face as the familiar title card played, and he couldn’t take it anymore. 

Although he wanted to shout, scream at you to snap out of it, nothing would come out. As he attempted to push the breaths up his chest and out his throat with some semblance of a plea, it was as if an imaginary force had its fingers wrapped around his neck, halting any wish he had to get through to you. 

His chest rose and fell dramatically, snowy brows furrowing in frustration, and he kicked at the coffee table, sending it rumbling across the living room to hit the entertainment center with a deafening crack. The television shook but steadied after just a moment. Those gleaming eyes remained transfixed on you though— you hadn’t even flinched. Blinking slowly once, and then a second time, and your head slowly turned to meet his eyes straight on for the first time since his death. 

It caught him off guard. Of course, there were countless moments when your sidelong glances and hitched breaths let him know that you sensed something was amiss. Still, you had never dared look into his eyes— never made him feel as though he was really still with you. 

“Stop it, Satoru.” 

It was a flat demand— a test. Would he listen to you? Could he hear you? Did he care? 

Straightening his back against the couch, he stared unblinkingly at you for a moment before slowly standing up from his spot. His eyes didn’t leave yours once as he crouched down to grab the leg of the table and pull it back to its respective spot. He stood still facing you for what felt like hours. With each second that passed, your lip would slowly twitch, and your eyes would soften— because fuck, was he really there?

And then he held his hand out to you with a barely noticeable hesitance, and you didn’t seem to care any longer if he was just in your mind, or if he was a curse, or a ghost, because your fingers were trembling as they traced across his palm— and he was warm, and he was your Satoru. For that moment, his body hadn’t been torn to pieces because it was pulling yours off the couch. His lips weren’t cold and blue, because they were pressing against your forehead as your tears began to fall in salty, stinging waves down your cheeks. Satoru wasn’t dead, because he was right here, and your arms were twisted around the very torso that had been sliced clean off of him. 

Trembling sobs racked your frame as you pulled yourself up with desperate hands on his shoulders, wanting nothing more than to crawl inside of him and hide from the heinous idea that your lover was dead. His hands grasped at your thighs to pull you up, and you cried into his collarbone, tears and snot mixing grotesquely against him so much so that you didn’t notice the pulse you used to press kisses to was no longer there. 

“You said goodbye to everyone!” You cried pounding at his back as he carried you silently toward your bedroom. “I didn’t get anything. You knew— you knew, Satoru!”

Despite his not being able to speak, he still bit his tongue at your accusations. Slowly, he settled down on his side of the bed, clutching you close to his chest as you fought to pull away in order to glare down at him, venom and grief mixing arbitrarily in your veins. You weren’t sure it was him, if he could speak or even understand what you were saying anymore, but you had so much anger in you for how he left things. 

“Why didn’t you tell me? Warn me?” Your words were being muffled behind your gritted teeth as he finally released the firm grip he had on the back of your head. Balled up fists beat weakly against his chest, though they never hurt him when he was breathing, so they certainly couldn’t hurt him now. “Why didn’t you say goodbye to me?”

He couldn’t speak to explain to you his cowardice and talk you through that crack in your voice. So, he sat up and pulled you into him, pressing his lips against yours as your salty tears seeped into the crevices of his mouth and coated his tongue with your grief. Those familiar fingers creeped up your neck to grasp at your jaw, prying your mouth open as though he could breathe into you every regret he’d left behind. 

Your cries slowly died out against his open mouthed kisses, and you found yourself messily reciprocating, desperate for any distraction from the reality you’d been living in for weeks. His thumbs wiped roughly at each tear that slipped down your cheek, having had his fill of being the cause of them for so long. 

“I love you.” You cried against his tongue, raking your nails through his feathery hair and inhaling deeply through your nose. He didn’t smell like himself anymore— he didn’t smell like anything. Any supplement of him would do though, and your hands dipped down to pull his tshirt off. Those enrapturing eyes stared back at you longingly once the fabric was yanked over his head, and he wanted nothing more than to say it back to you. For now though, you were okay to fill that void in his unwilling silence. “I still love you, Toru. Please— stay.”

Satoru wasn’t sure the morality of his decision, but he knew it had been weeks of aching to reach out to you, and now you were here in his arms, arching against his wandering hands and forgetting that his body was being eaten away at by worms and vermin. Perhaps, he thought as he slid his old shirt over your head and buried his face into your chest, this is exactly why he had been barred from whatever afterlife had been awaiting him. He’d always heard that old expression, the superstition that no one soul can pass on with unfinished business to attend to. Had he barricaded his own soul to the land of the living when he failed to prepare you for his death? Was your grief keeping him here?

If so, he selfishly hoped you’d never recover, because the man who was once the strongest wasn’t sure he was strong enough to leave you— not with how your soul seemed to mesh with his as he settled you over his aching length, hoping to fill the void your mourning for him had created. If Satoru was bound for Heaven, he wasn’t sure that whatever was promised would come close to the holiness of your sweet moans against his ears and your nails’ stinging purchase of his shoulders. 

He’d never leave again, the phantom thought as he watched you sleep that night, curled around his arm as though he might ascend before you woke. There was a serenity in your soft features that had been noticeably missing in his absence, but it was there in your parted lips and gently settled brows as his fingers continued to rake through your hair. You hummed quietly in the midst of your slumber and tucked your face into the crook of his neck, and Satoru vowed he’d haunt you to your grave if it meant you’d never be apart again. 

You woke with a start the next morning, a gasp of your lover’s name tumbling from your lips as you shot up in bed. Tears were already threatening to pierce your eyes at the thought that what you had experienced last night was simply a dream— placed torturously into your psyche to feed the black hole of your grief. Whipping your head to the side, you were met with Satoru’s awaiting gaze as he sat against the headboard. Despite your startled state, his lips still curled up at the sight of your barely conscious appearance.

Your hair clung to your cheeks and swayed into your bleary eyes as you attempted to blink away the sleep. It almost gave an energy of a bear that had just risen from a week long hibernation, but he couldn’t blame you as he’d lain witness to the sleepless nights that had plagued you the past few weeks. The comforter slipped from your shoulders, bearing your silken skin and plush chest to him. Acting on a carnal instinct the sight of you seemed so expert at pulling from him, he grasped at the small of your back to pull you into him. 

Your contented hum drifted into his ears as you settled against him once again, your skin still warm with sleep as it pressed against his own. Satoru didn’t realize how much he had been missing when he was still alive and had the weight of the world on his shoulders— rarely ever having gotten the privilege of lazing beside you as you awoke in the mornings. Most of the time, he was still working when you laid your head down to sleep, and he was already gone by the time you woke up. He’d only steal gentle kisses against your temple and wanton brushes of his palms up your thighs and waist as you slept before he’d slip into bed beside you. Now, he was quickly realizing as you pressed lazy kisses against his chest, trailing up his neck and jaw, that those stolen intimacies and rushed affections were never enough. He’d haunt you forever, the ghost vowed once again. 

Your since somber days were filled with something comforting, and, despite the five years you two had spent together prior to his death, this connection was new and warm— exciting. At one point you had even joked with him that you never saw him this much when he was alive, and he could only smile teasingly at you as he watched you devour your breakfast. You ate with an urgency he hadn’t seen in you the last few weeks, and it settled the guilt in his stomach. No, Satoru wasn’t being selfish in holding onto you, this was for you. 

The two of you welcomed the days that followed with open arms. No matter how morbid the circumstances, it was a relief compared to the atrocities you’d faced when he was still the strongest. You watched the list of movies the two of you had always put off, stayed in bed until the late hours of the morning just to make love to each other, lounged pressed up against the other in the steaming bathtub until your fingers wrinkled and the water was as cold as his corpse. 

Satoru’s lips curled into an easy smile as you shivered against him. His large hands created a soft splash as he lifted them from the water to run them down your trembling shoulders. You tilted your head back against his chest to look up at him with pleading eyes. 

“C’mon, Toru, I need to get under the covers asap.” You laughed eagerly, moving to push yourself up. His brows furrowed, and he pulled you back against him. It was another little moment that he wished he could say he missed from his time of living, but it was an intimacy he rarely had the time to share with you. He curled his fingers around the plush flesh of your arms and pressed a soft kiss against the nape of your neck as if to coax you to stay just like this for a moment longer. You sighed softly, tilting your head forward to allow him more access to the delicate skin you prayed he’d continue to explore. “You’re not cold?”

This gave his ministrations pause. Attempting to erase the distraction of your scent from his senses, he tried to concentrate on how the water felt against his skin. Upon feeling his hesitation, you glanced back at him. His incandescent eyes peered down at you, and he could only meekly shake his head at your question. It was a stark reminder of what he was and what he wasn’t— one you’d gladly forgotten about in place of his presence. 

It was after this instance that you began to notice all the little changes, the parts of Satoru that were no longer there. His typical, overwhelming sweet tooth was eradicated, and it felt almost unnatural the way he watched you eat the chocolate chip pancakes that were once his favorite of your dishes, not once trying to steal an extra bite from your plate as was his norm, much less grabbing any for himself. You chewed uncomfortably, switching the mush of pancake from one cheek to another as he leaned his chin on his fist and watched you with a contented smile. Still, it was better than forcing food down your throat in his absence, so you swallowed your breakfast with a soft smile and accepted the kiss he pressed against the knuckle of your free hand. 

You tried to not think about what all these things meant. The way he didn’t eat, how his usually racing mouth was now always shut, how you’d awake in the middle of the night to find him simply staring down at you; it made your blood run cold. It was better than being alone, you told yourself. It was better than being without him. 

His looming gaze burned holes in your back as you searched through your cabinets for the ingredients to make the festive cookies you typically prepared each year when Halloween was approaching. Usually, Satoru would be hovering over your shoulder, dipping his fingers into the batter as you swatted him away. He’d hang his long frame over the kitchen island as if it were a hammock, head dangling over the side as he shouted random numbers at you in an attempt to throw off your measurements. Those glistening lips would curl up into a mischievous smile each time you’d turn around to glare half-heartedly at him— pleased that he’d stolen your attention back just as he wanted. 

It was silent now though as you turned around to meet his gaze. You puffed out some air, blowing your bangs from your face as you closed the cabinet. 

“I guess stepping out of this place for a little bit wouldn’t hurt.” You commented with a soft sigh. 

It had been months since you’ve seen another human being— much less left the house. Since Satoru’s sudden reemergence, and, truthfully, you didn’t feel you had a reason to ever leave again. There was only so long you could live with what you had at the house though. Looking down at your pajama-clad figure, you stood up to begin your trek to the room to change into something more presentable. Behind you, hurried footsteps followed after you. Just as you were about to shed your tank top, a quick hand caught your wrist. 

The frantic look in Satoru’s blue eyes unsettled you for the smallest fraction of a second— the way his snowy brows furrowed, nose scrunched up as if you’d just told him a joke of the poorest taste. A small gulp forced its way down your throat, but you managed a forced smile. 

“I’ve gotta get some groceries, Toru.” You laughed meekly, tugging your arm from his grasp. He blinked a few times at you as you fished out an old sweater of his to pull on. “Some of us around here still eat, you know.” 

He didn’t like the way you reminded him of his own mortality status. For the first time since his dominating haunting of you, he felt disconnected from you. It was the first time he thought about the fact that there was an entire world outside this house awaiting your return. The people and stories lying behind these four walls were vibrant, loud, alive. Satoru suddenly wondered if your days turned weeks of quiet, domestic tranquility would be enough. 

His feet seemed to move on their own accord as he followed you to the front door, wishing with everything in him that he could yell at you to stop, to not leave him behind. Reaching out in a haze, he slammed the front door that you had opened back shut. You flinched back with a start, turning to blink up at him in astonishment. There was barely a hint of anger or hostility left in his expression though. In its place was fear, desperation, and an eagerness to keep you anchored to the very place he himself was doomed to. There was only one thing that the world outside you and Satoru’s home didn’t have, and it was the only thing his spirit could offer you in exchange for your blind loyalty— himself. 

Easily pushing you back against the door, Satoru kissed you as he kept his own tears and doubts hidden— doubts about what his selfishness made him and what it would do to you, what it was already doing to you. He could feel it as his hands roamed down your waist and hips in their desperate pursuit to your thighs, that you were smaller than he last remembered you being. There was a hesitation in your reciprocating, but it was as if you could still hear him now, whispering to you through the wet smacks of your lips and the clashing of your teeth— 

Don’t leave me. He longed to beg of you as he sank down onto his knees before you. As his white lashes fluttered up and his glittering eyes peered up at you from his place, dragging anguished kisses up the exposed skin of your thighs, Satoru could only smile against your clothed heat. 

It was always his favorite thing to do— something he was so skilled at— drawing your attention right back to him. It was so clear in your wanton gaze down at him, with your brows drawn softly together as your chest rose and fell in tandem with his teasing kisses, that he had drawn you in once again, even if just for a moment longer. 

Your head bumped against the front door you were trying to leave through just moments ago as Satoru peeled the layers from your hips. Despite your angled head, your eyes strained to meet his gaze that had not once left yours since his descent down your body. There was a certain betrayal in them and a daringness that asked you how could you think to leave me behind? 

In the midst of your pleasured gasp as his fingers circled your entrance lovingly before plunging in with gusto, you didn’t notice the way his free hand crept up to lock the door once again before trailing down your arm and locking his fingers between yours. 

“I’m sorry, Satoru.” The apology spilled from your lips with a shaking gasp, eyes finally falling shut as his lips circled your clit in tandem with his digits’ massages against your walls. You weren’t sure why you had felt the need to apologize— it was your right, after all, wasn’t it? To continue living? To not die along with him? Still, the hungered whines that were pulled from him and fell against you told a different story, one that ended in a happily ever after even if that meant opening his casket to lay beside him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry—”

They continued to fall from your lips as your high crept over you and molded you against the offending door. Just as you were about to slip past the final layer of sanity that grasped at you by the thinnest of threads, a sharp rap at the door had the waves of your release crashing unceremoniously to a halt in the depths of your stomach. With a startled, choked gasp, you fell forward, hands steadying you atop Satoru’s broad shoulders.

 His lips pried off you with a wet smack, and he tilted his head back to look at you— eyes wide and startled as if just reminded that it wasn’t just you two left in the world. Your chest heaved as you two stared at one another silently, and he shook his head— that familiar feeling of doubt creeping up in his chest. Your attention was drawn from him for the second time that day though as another knock sounded against the wood door, this one more urgent than the last.

Fighting against the guilt in your stomach at Satoru’s betrayed expression, you pushed off of him and quickly adjusted your clothes back over you. Wiping at your face as if it would give away your most recent escapades, you took an anxious breath in as you cracked the door open. 

The familiar sight of a tall, raven haired boy crashed against your anxiety with waves of relief— and it was slowly taken over by guilt with the reminder of the hundreds of texts and calls you’d avoided for so long. His fist was raised as if prepared to knock again, but it fell slowly upon seeing you through the crack of the door. The tension in his shoulders seemed to fall in tandem with the breath he released, his scarred face melting in relief before hardening once again. 

“Megumi—” Your meek greeting was cut off when he abruptly opened the door of your house fully and stepped in without another word. 

Unbridled fear gripped you as, for the first time since the start of your morbid affair, someone else stepped into the sacred space you and Satoru had carved out for yourselves in the past weeks. There were so many reasons you had left your loved ones in the dark— no answers about your wellbeing or needs in your time of grieving, but the most notable was the fact that you still didn’t know just what Satoru was now. Bringing someone else in posed the threat of losing him once again should your least desirable hypothesis be proven true— that he was merely a curse manifested in the wake of your grief. 

Watching with bated breath, Megumi closed the door behind him, and he was only inches from your lover. The phantom loomed over his shoulder with furrowed brows, but the boy made no indication that he had seen his dearly departed mentor standing a mere inches away from him, but, just for a moment, you thought you saw his lanky frame shake with the tiniest of shivers. If he suspected anything of the sudden intrusion, he didn’t mention it, instead casting his dark eyes around the house before settling on you once again. You released a quiet breath of relief. 

“You haven’t—” It was clear in his harsh tone that he was prepared to lecture you on your radio silence, but he stopped himself, forcing his hard features to soften a bit before looking back up at you. “I just— are you okay? Everyone’s been worried about you.”

You remained silent, watching the concern pool in his eyes as he assessed you up and down. Since the last time he’d seen you, you certainly appeared smaller, your cheeks sunken in and your collarbones more pronounced. Your eyes, the ones that once gazed at him with such fierce doting and concern for his own wellbeing were rimmed with dark circles that were more apparent against the way your skin had paled over the past weeks. In your silence, he shifted from one foot to the other.

“I’m worried about you.” Megumi finally admitted gruffly. “When was the last time you left the house? Talked to someone?” 

Your mouth opened and closed, eyes drifted over his shoulder to meet Satoru’s awaiting gaze. The boy in front of him followed your gaze, snapping back to you when he was met by nothing but air. 

“I-I’m fine, Megs.” You reassured with an unconvincing smile, reaching out to ruffle his hair affectionately. 

“Don’t give me that bullshit.” He spat as his expression hardened once again. His lashes fluttered angrily across his cheekbones as he blinked away the traitorous tears that threatened to burn at his eyes. 

It was his every intent to come here and be the strong one for you in Gojo’s absence. At the end of the day though, it wasn’t just you that had lost him. Megumi had lost his mentor, the only father figure he ever had. He figured the two of you would be grieving together— as doting on and endlessly embarrassing the boy had quickly become a team effort when you and Satoru got together. You filled the spaces that the six eyes couldn’t, lending an ear to problems your boyfriend never had the tact or grace to help out with himself. 

When Gojo died, Megumi never expected to lose you too. 

“You can’t expect me to go back to normal.” You explained, wanting nothing more than for him to leave. The reminder of how sickly you’d been coping with your loss was eating away at you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to be confronted by it any longer. “I lost my—”

“I lost him too, okay? Now don’t make me have to grieve you too— because I can’t.” Megumi was no longer looking you in the eyes, instead pretending that the various magnets on the fridge were far more interesting than your conversation. Slipping quickly down the side of his cheek though, you caught a glimpse of a rare tear before he furiously swiped it away. 

Suddenly, the guilt you were feeling was not for Satoru, or the pathetic means by which you’ve been holding onto him, but instead you felt an overwhelming contrition for the life you left behind in the midst of your coping, the people you left behind. You pushed past Satoru, paying no mind to the constricted expression on his face and pulled Megumi into a tight embrace. In his typical, nonchalant fashion though, his arms remained stiffly at his sides. Still, he buried his face into your shoulder for a brief second, allowing the grief to wash over the both of you, reminding each other that neither were ever alone in these uncharted waters. 

With a quick sniff, he pulled away from you in an attempt to collect himself. 

“Come on, let’s get lunch or something.” Megumi’s tone bordered on begging, but the man keeping you tied to this house had you biting your lip in contemplation. The boy sighed lowly at your apprehension. “Please, Gojo would have killed me if he knew I was letting you waste away like this. Come with me.” 

This revelation sliced through Satoru’s chest deeper than his fatal blow ever could have reached. For the first time since his mysterious return in your life, he looked past his need to be someone in your life, past the desire to keep you well past the time fate had allotted for the two of you, and he saw only a shell of the woman he loved. Now, you were shackled with one leg in his grave and the other tethered to your home— never able to stray too far. 

Without a care of how bizarre you appeared you peered right into Satoru’s awaiting eyes to find the stinging acceptance that you had been searching for. As if he could speak, the ghost gulped down any venomous words that threatened to spill out, as he turned on his heel and left you to make your decision. You watched the back of his head as he disappeared into the hallway, your bottom lip trembling in fear. If you walked out those doors, would he still be here when you got back? 

“Hey,” Megumi’s voice sounded distant, but the subtle desperation laced in it snapped you from your contemplative state. A tear raced down your cheek as you looked back at the boy. In his wide eyes, you saw the young boy who was blindly following Gojo into the world of jujutsu— the one who was too proud and scared of growing attached to admit that he was so grateful that above all else, you never pushed him to prove himself. There was never a conversation about how strong he had become, in its place were soft questions of if Gojo had given him a break that day, or if he had eaten. You were a rock to him for so long, and he recognized that look in your eye— the one that said you weren’t sure what was worth fighting for anymore. “Come on, I haven’t eaten today.”

Through the blur of your tears, you smiled wobbly at him, laughing tearfully as you reached up to smooth his hair down. This— you decided as you followed Megumi out the door for the first time in two months with your bag slung over your shoulder— was worth accepting grief for. 

Despite your coming to terms with the fact that reintroducing yourself into the life you’d built for yourself might mean truly letting go of Satoru in the process— fear gripped every nerve in your body as you returned home that night. You bid Megumi goodbye with a tight embrace once he’d helped you put your groceries away, and, with a promise that you’d answer your phone every once and a while, he left you alone in the house still haunted by your lover. 

Sweeping your gaze across the living room and kitchen— Satoru was nowhere to be found. A deep dread settled into the pits of your stomach, and you had to remind yourself that you weren’t at fault for choosing to continue living. No matter how many pep talks you gave yourself though, and how fulfilling it felt to have a purpose once again, even if just for a few hours, there was an undeniable feeling of loss that accompanied the fact that you and Satoru were left with no closure. 

“Toru?” You called out, your careful footsteps being the only, subtle noise echoing through the eerily silent house. The door of your bedroom creeked open under your palm’s hesitant push, but it too was barren. A familiar feeling of helplessness began to rise within your chest. It was the sensation that the very essence of what seemed to hold your world together was slipping past your fingers as though grains of sand in perilous tides. No matter how hard or desperately you squeezed your fists together— it was leaving you to be washed away by a greater power. “Satoru, this isn’t funny!”

The stinging tears that flowed down your cheeks were angry— offended that he’d leave you behind once again like this. Just like the first time, he’d left no warning, no explanation or preparation for his abrupt departure. It was a betrayal like no other, and you kicked open the door of the bathroom with all the anger it burned within you. The knob slammed against the wall, undoubtedly leaving an ugly hole in its wake, but the sight of the empty restroom was a far more grueling vision to behold. 

“Please, I’m sorry I left.” You cried into the empty space as you walked in further to rip the curtain of the shower back as if he would pop out from his hiding spot at any moment. Your knees buckled underneath you, and you curled into yourself against the cold tile flooring. There was a persistent pounding in your skull as your sobs shook your body, and, for a moment, you considered calling Megumi back to take you Jujutsu High— fearing what your mind may whisper to you in the midst of your breakdown. Your nails dug crescent shaped marks into your arms as you tried to grasp onto any sense of reality. “Come back. Please come back.”

There was a pregnant silence behind your shaking sobs that blanketed over the frigid bathroom for just a moment longer before the shattering of glass let you know you weren’t alone. You jolted up with a strangled scream at the sound, your arms coming up to shield you from the shards of broken glass the richocheted from the wall. Once it had finally settled, you slowly lowered your arms, eyes focusing on the larger shard that had fallen in front of you. From its reflection, Satoru’s piercing eyes stared back at you— a certain peace in them that wasn’t there when you’d last seen them. 

You quickly lifted your head, mouth agape at the sight of the phantom, still there, still with you. With your legs moving on their own accord, shards of glass pierced through your knees as you moved to pull yourself up, the unmistakable sensation of blood seeping onto your skin. Satoru squatted down, silently halting your movements. His eyes never left yours as he picked up a small envelope from the pile of glass. You hadn’t noticed it before— too transfixed on his still being there. 

Any words you wished to spew out to him died in your throat as he handed the envelope to you, and after a moment, you finally broke the intense eye contact you had been maintaining with him to look down at it. It had your name scribbled across the front. Without a doubt, you instantly recognized it as Satoru’s familiar penmanship. Your brows furrowed as your trembling fingers grasped onto the paper in confusion. The man before you could only watch, his stillness inviting you to rip open the damned paper, so you did.

You can’t tell anyone that I was too scared to say goodbye to you in person— I’m still supposed to be the strongest, you know (even if I went out like a total LOSER). I’m sorry to have left like this, but I think if you had asked me not to go, I might have actually listened. Quite the accomplishment, sweetcheeks, being the one person Gojo Satoru ever truly feared.

I’ll always love you and the life we were working to build, even if I won’t be around to see how you make it your own.

Please don’t waste the rest of your life looking at my reflection. 

(Seriously, don’t make me haunt you)

Your Toru.

The black ink before you smudged as your tears fell onto the page. You read it over and over again, unsure if the feeling crashing into you was still grief, or if the hint of relief washing over your system was real. Had your closure been here all along— hidden behind the damned mirror you stared mindlessly into for weeks?

“I didn’t want you to let me go.” 

You were sure you had begun hallucinating as Satoru’s melodic voice swam into your ears, filling you with a comfort you had been missing for far too long. Finally tearing your gaze from the letter, you looked up at him, mouth agape. As he stared back at you, there was a certain lightness that seemed to fill the air around him, and he knew his time with you was limited. 

“I figured you’d find it eventually. I just… I wanted you to hold onto me for a little longer.” He admitted before staring up at the now barren wall that once held that damned mirror. With a humorless laugh, he rolled his eyes at his own selfishness. “So much for the strongest, am I right?”

“Toru,” You whispered, fiercely blinking back the tears that dared blur your vision of him. He caught you as you threw your arms around his neck and cried into his shoulder. “I never needed you to be the strongest. I just wanted to know you were there— that what you left behind meant something to you.”

“It meant everything. You meant everything to me.” Satoru reassured, and as he opened his eyes, he could no longer see the sink, or the tub, the tiles; he only saw your trembling figure crouched beside him. Closure—  he knew what it would mean, but he was now willing to be left behind if it meant you got to move forward. 

“Are you leaving?” You asked, though you already knew the answer. 

“Afraid so—  but do me a favor, yeah?” He pulled back to smile fondly down at you, wiping at the tears under your eyes. You nodded dumbly at him as he brushed your hair behind your ears. “Get a new mirror, and stop looking for me in it, okay?”

Despite the heaviness in your chest, you laughed breathlessly at his words.

“Okay.” You choked out in agreement, closing your eyes as he leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead. A sly smile spread across his lips as he looked down at you one last time. 

“It was never as good as the real thing anyway.”

masterlist | requests | talk to me ❤︎

I love hearing everyone's thoughts! ◝⠀(ᵔᵕᵔ)⠀◜

[mountainficss]

Hi rae!!! I was the one who asked about your favourite members to write about and I was thinkingggg... would you do something with subby jeonghao together :( I feel like taking care of the both of them would be so cute hao would be so good while han has his little bratty bits. I always loved their duo moments so thinking of this makes me so wild

!! mentions of: sub!jeonghan, sub!minghao, threesome, bondage, handjobs, edging, biting, unprotected sex, oral sex, overstimulation

hi my love!!! and omg…this idea…i am THROWING UP EVERYWHERE I NEED THEM BOTH…

just imagining them both sitting pretty on your couch, arms behind their backs and wrists tied together with pretty silk ribbons. they’d be completely bare and exposed, the only fabric on their bodies being the ribbons you bonded them with. minghao would avoid your gaze like the plague, too shy to even look you in the eyes. his face would be flushed a deep red, but his arousal would outweigh his embarrassment. jeonghan would act the complete opposite, holding your gaze without hesitation. he almost looked smug, maybe even spreading his legs a bit wider to show off his trobbing erection. the pretty boys would be so fun to play with, and it would be fun to take turns with them <3

if you decide to untie and play with minghao first, jeonghan would have a fit. he’d huff and complain, watching you and hao with jealousy. you’d touch minghao the way he likes, always treating him like a fragile doll. hao likes it when you’re soft and gentle with him, caressing his skin and leaving sweet kisses onto his sensitive areas. it’s just his favorite ;( and seeing you feel minghao up would make jeonghan whine, trying his best to convince you to untie his wrists. you’d ignore jeonghan’s pleading, directing your focus to hao’s quiet moans that he tries so hard to hold back. you’d grab his cock, stroking slowly as he rests his head against the back of the couch for support. he’d be so cute trying not to cum, and he’d place his hands on the couch in an attempt to follow the rules you made for them. while you’re having your way with them, they’re only allowed to touch you if you give them permission. minghao follows your rules so well, truly trying his best to keep his hands to himself while you savor him. he just wants to be good for you, and he wants to make you proud of him. out of the corner of your eye you’d sometimes see jeonghan buck his hips up into nothing, his frustration obvious. you’d just smile to yourself as you pleasure the shy boy underneath you.

however, if you untie and play with jeonghan first, minghao would stay silent. no objections would leave his lips, only a small pout would adorn his features as he watches you tug off jeonghan’s ribbons. jeonghan likes it when you’re rough with him, and there’s nothing he enjoys more than letting you take control over him. he doesn’t listen though, so he’d need frequent punishment. almost immediately after you untie him he’s reaching out to touch you, earning himself a harsh smack to his hand. he’d just smirk as you grab his wrists, pinning them against the back of the couch as you sink your teeth into his neck and bite hard. jeonghan would moan desperately, squirming underneath you as you place yourself onto his lap and grind slowly down onto his erection. he’d love feeling your slick heat over his cock, so close yet so far from the pleasure he was really craving. minghao would glance over at the two of you from time to time, breathing heavily as he watches the heated scene in front of him. seeing you treat jeonghan like your toy would get him all hot and bothered, his legs shifting uncomfortably. jeonghan would beg you to choke him, to bite him, to rough him up, and if he’s patient you’ll give it to him. you’ll have to keep reminding him who’s in control, so you’d edge him meanly until he submits.

using both jeonghan and minghao at the same time would be the most fun though. you’d let one of them fuck you from behind while you deepthroat the other’s cock, taking in all the erotic sounds from both of them. minghao’s gentle whimpers along with jeonghan’s needy moans would never fail to bring you to your high. you loved feeling like this, feeling so full of them. the overwhelming pleasure the three of you get from each other would be the best part <3 using two gorgeous boys sounds like a dream come true.

taglist: @jeonghanpill , @bangantokchy , @caratboy , @bewoyewo , @luvseungcheol , @wonvsmile , @haolovre , @aaniag , @writingbarnes , @dokyeomkyeom , @allieyaaa

[warlocksoup]

haikyuu angstober

day four: kita shinsuke

art: the ghent altarpiece by jan van eyck

soundtrack: gnaw by alex g

warnings: toxic behaviors, self-destructive behaviors, unhealthy copy mechanisms, arguing, drinking, reader is kind of cruel (why would u do that to kita omfg)

word count: 1.3k

Kita sits at the kitchen counter, hands knotted neatly together, and he stares at the clock as it passes. Each minute goes by slower than the last, and there’s this growing sense of unrest in his chest. He bounces his knee. He chews on the inside of his cheek.

She should’ve been home by now.

She always does this. Slinking out the door of their shared apartment when the sun’s still up and not coming home until well into the next day, traces of strangers she met that night left all over her. And it always bothers him, not knowing where she is, what she’s doing, if she’s safe, if she needs his help. It always leaves him unsettled.

But tonight, he finds it unbearable. He’s not sure if his usual abundance of patience has ever run so thin.

He shifts in his seat, and tries to take, slow, deep breaths to quell the nerves that have settled in his gut. He closes his eyes, which is a mistake, because the second he does, he sees her face, resting on his pillow, shoulders bare.

Kita opens his eyes again and tries not to think of it. He fails immediately.

All he can see is her, underneath his sheets, He can feel it as she reached around to drag the tip of her finger along the back of his spine, goosebumps sprouting up on his skin then and now. He can hear her when she said, “There’s no one I care about like you,” and he can hear himself say back, “I’m in love with you.”

The door is flung open. Kits swivels around on his stool, and watches as she stumbles through the entryway, immediately kicking off her boots and losing several inches. He looks back at the clock. It’s nearly four in the morning. He turns his attention back to her again.

With her comes the smell of sharp, heavy alcohol. She’s shedding herself, tossing her purse onto the coatrack, shrugging off her jacket and letting it fall to the floor, ripping of the bands of fake eyelashes and stepping in the kitchen to leave them on top of the counter. Kita ignores it. “Why’d you wait up for me?” she questions as a greeting.

“I was worried about you,” he answers, standing from his stool to face her.

She stops moving. She places a hand against the counter and leans against it. “And why would you be worried about me?”

She’s in one of her moods, Kita can tell then. Belligerent and argumentative. He’s used to seeing her like this. In the last few months, it’s gotten worse, more frequent, more aggressive. And if he was feeling more like himself, if he wasn’t filled with this anxious sense of worry, if he had the sense of self-control he usually has, he would say okay, you’re right, I’ll go to bed, and he’d leave her alone.

But he doesn’t. Despite knowing better, he pushes on.

“You were gone,” he tells her, and he notices that his hands are shaking slightly. “I didn’t know where you were or what was going on-“

“And why would you care?” she cuts him off, tilting her chin slightly, like she’s challenging him. “I go out all the time, I don’t understand why it would make a difference to you.”

Kita sighs. His desperation to make her understand is outweighing his logic, and he thinks that maybe he just loves her too much for him to make any sense. “Please don’t act like you don’t know why.”

“I don’t know why,” she counters, voice hardened. “You don’t need to know where I go. I don’t owe you anything.”

He supposes that’s true, in the most technical of senses. She’s not his girlfriend. She’s not technically anything to him but a roommate. But he can’t let go of the image of her, soft and in his arms, telling him how much she cares, how much she wanted him, how much she needed him. And Kita can’t get past it.

He doesn’t want to think she didn’t mean it. He doesn’t want it to be a lie. But she stands there across from him, shoulders tensed and stare harsh, and Kita can’t help but feel like he’s supposed to believe it was.  

“You can’t just leave and disappear for hours without saying anything and expect me just not to care,” he says. “It’s not fair to me.”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “You’re not my dad, Shin. I can do whatever I want without having to answer to you. I can go out and drink and hook up and smoke and do whatever I want, and it’s not of your business.”

She drops it inconspicuously in the middle of her sentence, but Kita doesn’t hear anything after it. She stands there for a moment, like she’s waiting for a response, but Kita is silent, trying to process, trying to sort out this aching in his chest.

Her eyes roll, and she makes a move to walk past him, and retreat to her room. But Kita’s too far gone, too far in his head now, and he’s out of patience and control. His hand hooks around her elbow as she passes him, stopping her.

She glares up at him. Kita stares down at her with an empty, slightly agape expression. “You slept with someone?” he asks.

She jerks her elbow away. “It’s not of your business.”

“Yes, it is,” Kita insists, tilting his head down towards her. “You know it is.”

“Fine,” she relents. “Yeah, I slept with someone tonight. I met someone at the bar, and we went back to his place and hooked up. Anything else you need to know? Do you want his ID next?”

He doesn’t know why she does these things. He doesn’t understand it. How she can have something good and just ruin it, for no other reason than because she can. Kita feels like the wind’s knocked out of him. He takes a step back from her. “Why would you do this to me?”

She sneers. “I didn’t do anything to you. I’m not your girlfriend.”

Kita thinks of her in his bed. Warm, smiling. There’s no one I care about like you. He thinks he’s going to throw up. He thinks his heart is broken. “I told you I love you.”

It was so good. He should’ve known it would’ve have lasted. Kita knows her well enough to know she doesn’t let herself have good things; she doesn’t let herself have anything. He’s watched it, watched her burn down bridge after bridge. He doesn’t know why he thought he would be an exception.

It’s silent for a moment. Kita listens to his own breathing and tries not to cry. He doesn’t want to let her see any more of him.

“You think just because you said you love me it means you own me now?” she questions, low and slow. “You think I owe you anything?”

No, he figures. No, she doesn’t owe him anything. Kita doesn’t say anything.

“I know what I means when someone says they love you,” she continues on. “It just means they’re going to hurt you, down the line.”

“I wouldn’t hurt you,” Kita protests. “I wouldn’t do to you what you’re doing to me.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have said it. She takes a step back from him, eyes wet. He knows she’s drunk. He knows she says things she doesn’t mean. He knows he shouldn’t have pushed her.

In the morning, she will be softer. She will be gentle with her words and she will regret the way she spoke to him and she’ll apologize, say she didn’t mean it. But right now, she is mean and she is angry. She’s not gentle and she will keep saying things she doesn’t mean just to say them, just because they hurt.

“Well, I don’t love you, Shin. I slept with you because I could, and it didn’t mean anything to me. I don’t care that you’re in love with me. So just, fuck off, okay?”

She turns on her heel, and retreats to her bedroom. Kita lets her, standing there limp, watching her as she goes.

taglist: @hiraethwa @lale-txt @kr1nqu @angee444 @psychedellyc @geektastic84 @solzscribblez @asrinchin @nyxlai @miiyas @wyrcan @chocolains @tsumuus @kameyyy @sirhamburrger @kenmaria @recordsndreams

also @nectardaddy happy kita angst we’re having fun

[weirdsht]

Disillusioned Bonus 1 . Operation Reflection

a/n: my finger is still healing so have this in the meantime huhu

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

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"...100 ships on the west. One ship contains more powerful people than the rest, but I'm not sure who exactly it holds."

The nobles watch as the mysterious hooded healer casually points out every enemy ship and the power each boat holds. This was the same healer supporting the black swordsman and Commander Cale Henituse.

"Hmmm, some foot soldiers are jumping off the ship and into the water. There are currently more than a thousand living soldiers struggling in the water. Ah of course the number of dead people outweighs those numbers. Be careful Commander Cale, some of them are pretending to be dead."

_____ is currently using a voice changer to hide their identity and a mage to deliver their message through telepathy for those far away. 

"We'll have other ways to take care of them so don't bother, just focus on finding the man controlling the wyverns earlier."

When _____ first sat barefoot at the ship's edge, most nobles thought the healer came to play around. Some nobles even had the guts to yell at them when Cale left. Despite that, the mysterious person didn't give them an ounce of attention. They merely continued kicking their bare feet in the water as if they came to frolic in it.

This angered some of the nobles even more. Just who was this person that dared ignore high status people such as themselves? Moreover, they can't take a peek at their face because they also wear a mask underneath the hood.

However, their anger dissipated once the healer clad in the hooded robe started speaking. Whether it was a friend or a foe, they seemed to know where everyone in the ocean was. Meanwhile, their soft and calm voice made it seem as though they were discussing the weather, not exactly fitting for a person giving out the coordinates of places that need to be obliterated.

"Please connect me to the one in charge of the east side."

_____ who mostly kept their gaze in the water only looked up to address the mage aiding them and the ships attacking.

"Attack to the left. No, not there push it left a bit more. Yes, that's it. Don't attack the right side, the power on that ship increased I think some of our people are there."

Even the slowest of nobles could now understand the role of the hooded person. They were there to act in everyone's eyes. They can accurately feel everyone even through all the fog and the chaos. It was another measure to help everyone not get lost.

"To the mages in charge of airstrikes, do not touch northwest areas 2, 6, 7, and 9. Otherwise, feel free to attack the water."

Everything continued like that for the entirety of the battle. The mysterious person didn't move except for the few times they kicked their feet and stretched their hands. Of course, no one had a way of knowing that whenever _____ stretched out their hands they were stealthily trying to harm enemy soldiers as well.

Well, almost no one could.

"Human! We were so busy earlier that I didn't tell you but this great and mighty being could feel kind _____'s power a few times in the water but they didn't seem to be healing anyone."

Cale felt confused at Raon's report. He had specifically instructed _____ to focus on using their ancient power and not heal anyone. He knows that the healer isn’t the type to disobey their orders. Moreover, _____ didn't disobey anything because they didn't heal anyone. But what could they be doing with their powers if they aren't healing people?

"Oh also! Those useless noble bastards were also talking bad about our _____ when you left. Some of them even had the nerve to directly yell at them. I wanted to smack them, but you told me to not do anything to those people for now so I didn't." If Cale didn't feel irritated at the nobles who only knew how to attach themselves to someone with power before, he's definitely pissed now.

[lonelystarrs]

Beach Balls.

Barou Shouei x FemReader x Nagi Seishiro

What would it take to convince Barou Shouei to end up on a beach? It’s messy, sand gets everywhere, it’s unhygienic. Who knew it would be so simple —You, a bikini and Nagi Seishiro, the hassle man who didn’t seem to get the hint that you were the kings queen. He’d share this once but only to get his point across.

Kinda an extra spin off from this story: Pudding <linked

Warnings: 18+ MDNI • all aged up 23+• Smut • f/m only • Nagi watches/joins in • Establish relationship with Barou • public sex • beach/summer theme • Nagi and Barou bickering • reader oblivious to Nagi’s interest • size kink • praise / degradation kink • lazy 3some • Barou Doms • prone bone position • fluff with Barou at the end • funny plot twist ending as usual for my bllk fics lol THAT AINT SUNLOTION BRUH •

Hope it’s worth it guys! Took me so long to get this done! It was wayy longer than I planned but it’s so 🌶️ skip to the end of you don’t have patience cause it’s funny nagi is a lil shit💀

Fuck it was hot. 

This temperature was ridiculous.

Everything was sticky and it made you lethargic.

Life was hard at the moment, seriously.

“Quit sighin’ will ya? You’re pissing me off.” 

The side eye you gave Barou was bombastic, unfazed as always, immune to your death glares he strode by in nothing but tiny ass man shorts that gripped his ass tighter with each stride.

Huge body rippling, sweat beads lightly down him dipping through the lines of his ridiculous muscles that your tongue knew so well. 

You groaned again and Barou threw a glare over his shoulder. 

“You deaf? Fuck off somewhere else.” 

“I was appreciating you so hard it made me groan actually, you dildo!” 

“Dildo?!”

“Yeah,”

“Keep up the snark and I’ll buy you a box of them when I leave your ass,” 

“Single life doesn’t suit me, thanks for the offer though my best dildo ♡”

“Fucking brat.” 

You snickered as Barou left the living room and you watched his tight shorts hug his ass as he walked away. Your phone pinged, which you ignored because reaching for it on the glass table across from your sprawled out form on the sofa was simply too hard. The air con was on, blowing by occasionally and it kept the house cool, but moving soon took away the pleasure of coolness to break into a sweat.

Another couple pings echoed in the living room until your curiosity outweighed your pain of having to move. 

Isagi:

Bachira and I are heading to the beach, who’s coming? 

Bachira:

Let’s go! ;) I have a ball! :D

Reo:

Busy, have a good time tho. 

Nagi:

Seems like a bother, it’s too hot I don’t wanna move. :x

Barou: 

No. Get rid of my number peasants. 

You:

Sure! Can we volley ball? Where shall I meet you guys? ♡

Nagi:

Kay, I’ll come. 

Bachira: 

Hahahahahaha cute Nagi! Yeeeees we can! I’ll be on ur team 😍

Reo: 

🤢 Nagi.

Isagi: 

💀 meet at our usual cafe? Say 12pm? I haven’t played volleyball but I’ll give it a go!

You:

I’ll show you boys how to handle balls in different ways, don’t worry. Best to be taught by a pro after all. 😜 

Nagi: 

s’ that a promise? :x

Reo: 

I thought better of you Nagi. Girl, keep that shit between you and king asshole.

You:

Sure @Nagi! I’ll teach you, aren’t you going to watch videos tho? How you usually learn? @Reo Hahahaha, he really is an asshole ♡

You locked your phone whilst you swung your feet from the sofa and checked the time, thirty minutes before you needed to leave. 

Barou wasn’t within your line of sight as you changed into a hot pink bikini that complimented your skin tone, sliding on some denim shorts that were truthfully a little on a short side and grabbing a white tank top. 

Packing a small bag of drinks, lotion and towels, spare pair of flip flops to avoid Barou screaming about sand in the house, you said bye to said man but had no response. 

Foolishly assuming that Barou had seen the group chat, knowing where you were going and what you were doing.

The man was in the garden working out, despite the radio active freaking heat —he was still as strict and dedicated rain or shine. His headphones in and the group chat turned to silent because such kings shouldn’t be associated with such peasants. 

Isagi had set up your section impressively, making it as private as possible by hiring a location with a barrier around, you presumed to keep any media away or any on lookers who might recognise the boys. 

Apparently if you weren’t with them they’d be less bothered, but dragging you into their media frenzies were less preferable, Barou would have their heads after all. 

The section of the beach was fairly quiet despite the blaring heat, you pushed your hair back as you walked from the water, ends of your hair twisting around your hand as you drained the salt water from it. Eyes looking off to the side as you scanned the beach absentmindedly. 

Failing to notice the boys watching, Bachira elbowed Isagi who was watching with just as much interest as Nagi. 

“See Isagi? She’s pretty~!” His sing song voice, the teasing tone matched his current posture; legs crossed and his hands placed on the sand in the gap between them as he rocked his body slightly. 

Grey eyes peering over his phone, interest finally swayed by the dribblers words, he greedily drank you in and his lazy mind quickly forming ideas that didn’t seem so bothersome. Nagi watched your hands running through your hair before twisting it to the side, tits bouncing lightly in that skimpy pink bikini. He swore he could see each drop of water slide down your body, disappearing into your cleavage and bikini bottoms —both places he’d happily bury his face into. 

Seishiro swallowed thickly suddenly ripping from his daze only to notice they weren’t the only males on the beach staring at you. The odd girl slapping their boyfriends arms and one even pushing his face into the sand. 

Nagi I didn’t even hear you until you prodded his forehead, 

“Hey, earth to Sei!” 

“Uh - hi.” 

You blinked, head tilting as you looked him over sat under the shade of the umbrella. 

“You okay Sei?”

You crouched down to him, he swallowed thickly again when your fingers brushed his hair from his eyes and forehead, pressing the back of your hand to it. 

And he froze, training his eyes on your face and to not look down at your tits pressed together so close to his own face, barely covered in that bikini… if that strap came undone, god that’s all it would take for him to get an eyeful. Hell it was tempting -it would be easy, he’s so much taller than you all he’d need to do is stand next to you and pull on it without you even knowing. 

“Hmm, you’re not really hot but your cheeks are a little red. Make sure you keep drinking ‘kay?” 

He nodded completely dazed and doe eyed in his own lazy way, looking up at you like a child not really hearing a word you say because his eyes were hyper focused on those pretty plump lips moving.

“You haven’t taken your t-shirt off, did you put cream on?” 

Nagi shook his head whilst shrugging and turned his eyes back to his phone that had laid forgotten in his limp hands on his lap. 

You sat on the towel laid out for you, laying on your back you sighed in contentment and closed your eyes to enjoy the sun that beamed down to dry the water from your cooled skin. 

It was pleasant, listening to Nagi’s fingers tapping on his screen, the occasional noise from his game and his little noises to signal his progression. 

Until a shadow loomed over you, the heat from the sun disappearing instantly causing you to frown. 

You don’t recall seeing a cloud in the sky today, or anywhere nearby when you were in the water not ten minutes ago. 

“Woman-“ 

You opened an eye to see none other than Barou stood over you blocking the mighty sun with his ridiculous body, looming over you as a shadow with red eyes glowing. 

“If you’re gonna say anything about chocolate melting in the sun-“

“Fuck you playing at?” 

“It’s the scene from white chicks?”

You sat up onto your elbows and looked at him in question as his gaze only got harsher on your attempt of humour to deflect his doom and gloom presence. His attitude and stare caused annoyance to bite at your skin, his tone carrying accusation like you’d done something wrong. 

“Nothing?” 

“You didn’t think to ask or tell me you were leaving? Didn’t I tell you stay away from the louse?”

“I don’t have to ask you anything Barou, I thought you seen the chat and heard me say bye. Will you stop calling him a louse? He has a fucking name.” 

“Yeah, Nagi. Naaaa-gi. Say it.” 

Red eyes slid to said man, that was speaking in his lazy voice that made Barou’s teeth grind. Nagi was merely looking back at Barou with his usual bored gaze but the closer Barou looked the more he seen the fucking taunt glistening in those usual apathetic eyes. 

“You’re dead hassle man.” 

It took you a mere second to stand and press your finger into Barou’s chest, stepping forward into his space and getting up in his face. You didn’t expect him to step backwards and he didn’t, if you weren’t so annoyed you’d see his eyes soften, ever so slightly, when they met your own. 

“No. He isn’t, unless you want a fucking scene here Barou sort it out, I have no idea what the hell is going on with you two but I’m done with it.”  

You, Nagi and Barou were too absorbed in the moment to see blue and yellow eyes peering over the beach barrier set up around your spot, they were stood on the other side like spying teens with their fingers gripping the top.

“She’s -“ 

Isagi nodded as if he knew what Bachira was gonna say, really he didn’t, but he assumed it was to do with your feisty side that you hid so well. Really it wasn’t surprising —dealing with Barou wasn’t easy. It made sense that he liked someone who held their own. 

“Thing is, Barou likes it.” 

“Huh? What’cha mean Isagi?”

“Look at his cheeks!” 

Bachira turned his eyes back and saw the tinge that prickled across the kings cheeks, barely noticeable until Isagi had pointed it out. 

“Isagi the monster says we should leave now,”

“Yeah… she’ll handle it, right?”

You sighed as if relieving the annoyance and lowered your hand, finger tips brushing against Barou’s wrist as he glared off to the side. 

“Stay?” You lowered your voice so only he’d hear and you watched his frown deepen signalling he heard you, “-please? You know I’m happier when you’re around B.” 

“Buttering me up ain’t gonna do shit-“ 

“Fine, go sulk.” 

You waved over your shoulder and sat back on your towel, part of you was surprised he was even here —he didn’t like the sand because it was messy and got everywhere. But here he stood with his shoes in his hand and his toes buried in the pretty white grains. 

“Tch,” Barou sneered, eyes rolling he reached back and grabbed his t-shirt by the back of his neck, pulling it off in one motion and folding it neatly in your beach bag. 

His red eyes turned towards the water, rolling his neck and shoulder, that’s when you noticed Barou had his hair down, half up into a bun. And he looked freaking goooooood.

Nagi watched as love hearts formed in your eyes, pupils changing shape as you looked on dreamily at the man causing him to pout, his little famous x shape forming as he felt suddenly forgotten about. 

“Stupid king,” he mumbled, annoyed with the fact he finally had your attention getting you both alone for it only to be swiftly interrupted. He swore Barou had some kind of sixth sense when it came to you.

“Comin?” 

Barou looked over his shoulder at you, annoyance was still biting at him but he found it hard to keep it up with you —after all you weren’t the reason he was wound up. Not like he would admit in a thousand years that Nagi Seishiro was getting under his skin. 

Your name being called to your left took your attention from Barou, not noticing Nagi had stood to his full height and removed his shirt. Rubbing the back of his neck to express he was feeling somewhat awkward as he held a bottle of sun lotion out. 

You weren’t looking at that though, your mouth fell slack at the condition Nagi was in —shocked at what he hid under those baggy clothes. You knew his height matched Barou and sometimes when Nagi actually straightened you could have sworn he was slightly taller than the king himself.  He always looked so lean, so slender and it was a shock to see he was built like a freaking god under those clothes. 

Barou was big, the man was packing in every sense so you were hardly starved but this was surprising and you must have been gawking because you felt your jaw clack as you closed it. Nagi’s voice bringing you back to clarity as guilt surged through you —it made you worried about looking back at Barou stood behind you, hoping to the gods he didn’t see your jaw slacken.

“Can you put this on my back f’me? It’s such a hassle,” 

Barou’s eye twitched behind you, throbbing vein at his temple and his fists clenched. 

“Uh- sure Nagi, can you sit down?” 

“Like fuck yo-“ 

The smirk that twitched on Nagi’s mouth was aimed at Barou and he got the message, seeing nothing but red as your hands worked the lotion into Nagi’s back and shoulders. Sat on your knees cushioned by the sand, red eyes had to turn away, the boiling of his stomach acid churned him inside out.

He couldn’t show his jealousy, his ego far out weighing it in refusal on letting Nagi win this bullshit -it was not happening. 

If that’s how he wanted to play, Barou would play harder. But instead of making him jealous over you touching him, Barou was going to get across that he was the only one who could touch you. 

“All done Sei~!”

“Oi-“ you hummed at turned your attention to Barou who nodded his head, silently asking you to come near him, “-hand it over.”

He held his hand out for the lotion and you passed it to him as he told you to lay down on the towel again, straddling the backs of your thighs as he seated himself above you. 

Nagi’s head tilted as he watched the position, Barou ignoring his existence as he squirted cream onto your back, undoing your bikini straps so his large hands could work into your skin. 

“Ngh- B that feels s’ good.” 

“Yeah?” 

Your airy moans were a fucking godsend, Seishiro watched intently as he stared from his position watching you turn into putty under Barou’s hands. 

“You got somewhere else to be, hassle man?”

“Not really.” 

Barou sneered, shifting his knees for his highs to spread further, from Nagi’s angle it looked like a mere shift of comfort. To you though it was Barou pressing his growing semi into your ass, spreading his legs to push his hips forward letting you know that your little feisty attitude wasn’t brushed under the rug. 

Your breath hitched in your throat, hands forming into fists as you tensed under him. 

“Whats up?” Barou’s voice carried amusement, that mocking tone was obvious to you but seemingly harmless to someone who had no idea he was pushing his hardening dick into the swell of your ass.

Oh fuck him. 

Seriously. 

Literally. 

No- Sei was still beside you, you stole a glance only to see the white haired man had moved himself to squat next to Barou. His eyes watching your skin and drinking in whatever he could. Sei’s cock twitched, that hum of arousal shot through his body. 

“I wanna go-“ 

“Fuck off louse, go find something else better to do,” 

“Nah, I wanna do this.” 

Sei pressed his finger into your shoulder, running it up to your neck only for Barou to slap his hand away. 

“Don’t you get it? She’s not yours-“ 

“Can’t you just share?” 

What?

For the second time in ten minutes your breath hitched in your throat, lifting yourself onto your elbows completely forgetting Barou had undone your bikini straps. 

The realisation hitting you like a fucking train. 

This was why they were fighting all the time? Because Nagi wanted to share you? 

Nagi Seishiro liked you?

“What the hell is going on?” 

“Uh- y/n.” 

You ignored Nagi’s attempt to speak, eyes widening, pink dusting across his cheeks as it crawled up his neck, his index finger pointing out which you didn’t follow due to being flustered by the sudden possibility that Nagi was interfering like this because he liked you. 

“Is this why you boys are constantly fighting? Holy, what the-“ 

“Your uh-, I can see them.” 

“What?” You blinked and Nagi blinked back at you, pointing you followed his finger to your exposed breasts, Barou all but slammed you down into the towel, your muffled umph as you almost got a mouthful of sand. 

“Looks like I gotta show ya-“ 

Barou’s voice darkened in a way that actually worried you, his ego clearly soaring over his common sense and his patience long gone. 

Barou shifted his hands, moving to your ass and grabbing it, spreading your cheeks for his thumbs to dip along the lines of your bikini bottoms pressing down on the lips of your pussy. 

“B-Barou no, we-“ 

“Shut it, you’re pissin’ me off, always sticking up for him and shithead isn’t getting the hint, it’ll be two birds with one stone.” 

An airy moan left you as one of his thumbs moved under the thin material and pressed against your hole, clenching around nothing in response at him pressing it into you. 

Your head dipped, forehead leaning into your clenched hands in front of you as your elbows held up your weight when his thumb slid in. 

Your eyes side glanced to Nagi who was watching Barou’s hands, his concentration on par with how he watched his soccer videos. Pink dusted his cheeks enough to compare with your own. 

Barou slid his thumb in to the knuckle, twisting his hand to run his index finger to your clit, pushing the slick that was starting to drool from his thumb buried in your pussy. 

“Tilt your hips up,” you did as he asked and moaned out at the pressure he applied to your clit, running hot circles around it making you buck backwards the best you could, Barou’s weight still holding your legs down as he rested on the backs of your thighs. 

“What a little whore, you’re a fucking mess already, not supposed to be enjoyin’ this.” 

“Ba- ngh - you need to stop,” 

“Nah keep going crappy king.”

“Shut it louse, think you are giving me orders huh?“ 

Your body running hot was enough to ignore the bickering, rotating your hips so Barou’s index finger moved with it was enough to draw their eyes and attention back to you. The airy little moan leaving your lips as your ass jiggled with movement.

“Shit, pretty thing you look good.” 

“Then listen to it hassle man, cause that’s as close as you’re ever gonna get.” 

Barou shifted his hands and you whine from the feel of him leaving you, only to freeze when he lifted himself slightly from your hips, his shorts rustling behind you and his cock slapping against his stomach as he released it. 

Reaching down he gripped the base, lowering it to slap on your ass a few times, his spare hand landed by your shoulder as he tilted over you pressing the head of his dick between the dip in your ass, sliding it down to your hole. 

“Fuck -Barou we can’t-“ 

“Says who huh?”

“The fucking law, what if someone sees us? You guys are fucking famous it’s-“ 

“Quit whinin’ just have to keep it down won’t you?” 

You cursed under your breath, hitching then in your throat as he started to push into you and it hurt. The angle was tight, Barou was massive —both girth and length gifting him to go with that ridiculous, unearthly body he had.

Your legs pressed together, his weight on the back of your thighs holding you down as he leaned into you, you didn’t know how well you’d take him like this —he was too big for the prone bone position.

“Fuck you’re tight-“ 

“You’re-I can’t take you like this-“ you whined under him, pussy throbbing to have him fill you so well like he always done, but struggling to take his cock as you were. 

“Tch,” Barou shifted, leaning into his hand by your shoulder, lifting his hips slightly from you allowing you to shift your own position and slapping your ass cheek watching it jiggle, “-get that fat fuckin’ ass up, yeah like that -push up with your just hips, off your elbows head down.” 

You moved whilst he instructed, your cheek pressing into the towel covering the sand and hips managing to push up a little from it. 

Barou’s hand gripped your ass cheek and spread it watching the head of his dick ease into your hole, feeling that pop as the thick head pushed through the right ring. 

“Yeahhh, s’fucking it. You gonna swallow this dick?” 

You almost forgot Nagi was even there, moaning in response as Barou slowly started to sink into you, bullying that thick dick through your tight hole. 

It was a struggle taking him like this, tears pricking at your eyes, teeth clenching and drool starting to spill from your mouth onto the towel. 

You felt impossibly full, he was already rubbing against your g-spot that heat building in your pussy making you clench around him, hips wiggling against him to try encourage something. 

“Pretty thing, you gonna answer?” 

As if suddenly snapping back to reality and Nagi reminding you he was there, you shifted —or went to, Barou reacted to take your attention from Nagi and forcefully snapped his hips forward, driving the rest of his cock until his balls pressed against your thighs . 

And you screamed. 

Nagi’s hand shot out, shoving three fingers knuckle deep into your mouth to muffle your noise. 

“You gotta be quiet pretty, thought you didn’t want anyone knowing?“ 

Your gummy walls distracted Barou to the point his mouth fell open slightly, dick flexing in you as his eyes unfocused into a daze, absentmindedly staring at Nagi’s fingers in your mouth, effectively gagging you —those little muffled noises, watching you struggle in this position to take him, how fucking tight you felt around his cock. 

Fuck. 

Fuuuuckkkk. He wasn’t gonna last two minutes unless he calmed himself down. His heart was thumping in his ribs, arousal shooting through his body and rushing to his cock, that pleasurable wave rushing through his lower stomach. He moved his hands to place just above his knees still bent at your sides as he sat on the back of your thighs. 

His hips tilted forward enough to get himself balls deep into you, enough to push the fat and muscle of your ass up when his hips met yours.

You whimpered when he moved, testing your tolerance and seeing how uncomfortable you really were. 

As much as he liked to push you actually hurting you in any way, emotionally or physically, was off the cards for Shouei. Sharing you like this was only to make a point, to show you and hassle man that he wasn’t just king on the pitch —he had a queen off it and she was his alone. 

This was just a method that boosted his ego, just a way to do something outta spite. 

He might feel guilt ping at him later but right now he was stopping himself from cumming and stuffing you with cum fifteen seconds after bullying his cock into you. 

This was new —his ego and adrenaline mixing, seeing you get gagged by Nagi whilst full of your lovers cock in public?

Fuck, it mixed into some foreign feeling that was making him fucking feral. He never wanted to let loose on you like this, fighting the urge to pin you to the towel and fuck you until you were both raw. That racing heart elevated his breathing, starting to pant through his nose as he watched the side of your face. 

You were so pretty, so fucking beautiful… so perfect for him. 

Nagi felt your moaning vibrate against his fingers, as Barou started to move dragging himself from you slowly only to harshly punch his cock back in that tight squeeze. It made Nagi’s cock uncomfortably hard in his swim trunks, he could see you physically struggling in this position. He felt his dick leaking at the slit, throbbing and flexing at your attempt to take Barou like this. 

Nagi wasn’t anything to shy away from, his length being his winner, but even he’d admit Barou Shouei was packing a cock. Not like it was a surprise seeing it again today, Barou strode around blue lock’s baths enough back in the day, but seeing it in action like this kinda made it look more daunting. But the white haired genius didn’t feel sorry for you, he just wished he could see more of your drooling hole swallowing it up. 

Nagi pressed his finger tips to your tongue and your lips closed around his fingers, tongue rising to slide between his digits as his eyes watched yours glass over into some dazed, fucked dumb expression. 

Barou’s hips hitting you with a slower pace but it was rough and consistent, punching his cock into you so deeply and hitting that sweet spot almost instantly. 

Nagi watched your fingers dig into the towel, sinking into the sand under it and he fell to his knees, the sand was scratchy against his skin but it was easily forgotten when he pulled the top of his trunks, his long cock slapping his stomach. 

He exhaled heavily at the relief, spare hand wrapping around his length as his lazy gaze turned half hooded, glassy on the scene of Barou’s thick cock disappearing into the dip between your ass cheeks and thighs. He could see your slick coating Barou’s dick, he’d rather have better view of your pussy —seeing it stretched out and drooling but this would do for now. 

The skin slapping, the squelching made it easy to time his fist to fuck his cock into his hand. 

Barou’s gaze from you didn’t falter, completely fixated on your face that he could see, drool starting to spill down the side of his mouth as he kept his slow, hard pace, his hips cushioned by your ass every time they met. 

Nagi’s fingers moved around your tongue, spreading them to let you suck on them. Rolling his palm over the head of his dick smearing pre that leaked from the slit and his hips bucked up into his hand. 

“Damn woman, you’re sucking my dick in, let it go. Can’t fuck you faster if you keep squeezing like that.” 

That deep voice of your lover brought you some clarity, his order filtering through the daze his dick put you in. 

You arched back more for him, arms stretched out in front of you like a cat, ass moving up into the air and you felt the restriction instantly free up. 

“Risking breaking your back to get fucked good?” His hand slapped across your ass so harshly you jolted, hissing as the sting spread across your cheek. 

Barou leaned over you, his hands sliding around to cup your neck and under your jaw locking his fingers together at the front bring you back up with him. Nagi’s fingers falling from your mouth, spit covered he used it to rub over his cock, now fisting his dick with both. 

“S-Shit,” Nagi’s mouth fell open slightly, smacking his jaw as he watched your body arch beautifully. Back curving and ass back against Barou, he was using your neck as leverage to fuck you. His hands felt good, using two was better as he could overstimulate himself but rolling his palm across his head, “-lemme use her hand, I don’t wanna do it m’self.” 

Nagi’s lazy drawl did nothing to waiver Barou, or his attention.

Instead your hands flew to Barou’s waist behind you for support to balance yourself and he pressed his lips to your temple, peppering kisses down the side to your ear, biting on the lobe before sucking, his thumbs rubbing circles on the base of your neck, fingers still locked on your throat. His hot breath fanning across his wet trail of kisses, his deep moan and rough voice right in your ear as goosebumps spread over your skin. 

“Oi louse, touch her clit. Get her to cum.” 

Nagi pouted, side eying Barou as he felt torn on his choices.. doing as Barou says only to watch you cum over his dick or finally get a feel and taste of you? 

Was it worth it, would his ego- 

“N-Nagi please,” 

Yeah, it’s totally worth it. Nagi would just his own cards, use this to his advantage. 

“Huh?” 

Your eyes met his finally, a side look only but enough to make his dick throb in his hand. Your pretty glassy eyes, pink tinged across your cheeks and drool lining from one corner to your chin, loose strands of hair sticking to your forehead, lightly choked by your lover behind you, tits bouncing with each thrust from Barou as you panted in air. 

His head tilted as if to act oblivious to your needs, playing his poker face at his usual master level. 

“You need something pretty?” 

You nodded and he let out an airy moan as he slowed his hand, finger tips grazing over his tip. 

He knew his pre cum was smeared over his fingers as he reached forward to press against your clit clumsily, using it to aid the small circles he started to rub, feeling it stretched out from Barou bullying himself into you. 

“Ah -here? Does it feel good?” 

You released a breathy fuck yessss, hips jolting with each punch of Barou’s hips. 

“M’close Bar-Nag-ngh. Oh fucck-“

Nagi’s posture changed, his slouched position straightened those grey, slated brown eyes darkening as his ego took advantage of the situation. Shifting to be in front of you, his long, thick thighs resting either side of Barou’s, one hand fisting his dick and the other rolling across your clit, he wanted you to watch him to see him.

And you did, eyes focusing on his long dick being stroked just under you, those little pink tinged cheeks of his and that darkening look in his eyes. Strands of white hair sticking to his face as beads of sweat started to dribble down his chest.

It was enough to tip you over, the surge suddenly hitting you off guard. 

“I’m cumming - I’m cumming!” 

“Yeah-“ Nagi didn’t let up, his finger picking up a pace over your hardened clit helping on sending you over the edge, “-I’ll help you cum, pretty, kings not enough huh?” 

“You fucking- fuck-“ Barou’s attempt to sneer was cut off as your hips pushed back into his, your pussy clenching down on his dick swallowing him and you went so tight he couldn’t pull back. 

“You’re dead,” the breathy gruffness carried threat, but those glazed red eyes showed Barou was enjoying it far more than he was willing to let off.

“I done what you asked, king. You wanted me to help her cum on you right? Don’t you know her well enough?” 

Nagi could have sworn he seen red flash across his eyes, Barou’s gaze darkening more than he’d seen on the pitch. 

“Thanks for warming her up, she’s drooling over my dick now. Time I show you how she likes to be fucked, how a king fucks.” 

Barou released your neck, your body weight falling forward and your hands pressing into Nagi’s chest to catch yourself, your lips a mere breath from his, eyes meeting he fell back onto his elbows when Barou pushed your shoulders down. 

It made you lower on Nagi, tits pressing up against his cock and your face into his six pack. 

“Ass up, woman-“ 

Barou gripped the back of your neck pushing you down and forcing you to stay fixed, your ass arched back still in prone bone and Nagi was literally held under you, Barou using your body weight and his strength to keep him there. 

It was fucking mean, cruel even, how he left you moaning and whining, drooling onto Nagi’s chest as Barou started to fuck you and it was nasty. 

Your ass rippling with each time his hips met it, your tits bouncing against Nagi’s dick making his hips roll up in time with it. His head tilting back, white hair falling with him as his glassy eyes went half hooded, it felt good -too fucking good. He was leaking pre everywhere, cock flexing under the weight of your tits. 

Barou used fucking you as a way to tit fuck Nagi and the lazy genius wasn’t sure how long he was gonna last. 

“Ngh, you’re so deep Barou- gonna cum again-!” 

“Yeah? Give it up then whore, s’feel you try push me out.” 

Barou’s pace was brutal, you felt slick and cum running down your inner thighs still press together and legs between his. Keeping you in this prone bone position was keeping you stuffed in a way you felt full of dick. 

He was fucking you so deep your eyes started to cross before rolling back into your skull, your nails raked down Nagi’s sides, teeth biting into his stomach to muffle the moan that was crawling up your throat. 

His dick hit that soft spot one more time, building that burning heat and you released clear fluid. Your body convulsing under him as another orgasm tore through you. 

“You’re fucking filthy. Messy cunts slobberin’ you cummin’? Say my fucking name-“ 

“Barou! Barou -fuck s’good, m’cummin don’t stop -m’cummin! Yes yes yes!” Your slurring only aided his bullying, thick, long cock flexing in you as he groaned listening to you babbling and clenching around him. 

His hand moved from the back of your neck to pull you up by your hair, your tongue lolled out, drool spilled down your chin and Nagi drank the image in. Tits smushed up against his dick on his stomach, sweat beading down your collar bone and shimmering on your skin. You looked fucking stupid, dumb even, cock drunk of getting fucked like this in public. 

And it was all happening on Nagi’s stomach.

“S-Shit pretty m’gonna cum- you look so fucking good-“ 

“Take a good look hassle man, s’how she gets fucked. I don’t need your shitty help, asking you was taking pity. She needs to be soaked before I can fuck her like this.”

Barou became white noise as Nagi focused on you, eyes switching between your fucked out expression and his dick disappearing between your tits as Barou kept a harsh pace. 

His hips started to buck the best he could given the weight above him, causing tight friction over his cock, the end of it burning with arousal as he watched himself being brought over the edge. 

“Ngh- make me cum pretty, please? I wanna cum now.” 

Whatever Nagi said worked in bringing you back from dazing, you managed to tilt your head slightly and gather spit in your mouth, slowly releases it to dribble onto the head of his dick between being thrusted forward. 

“Shit, s-shit pretty yeah -gonna m’cummin” 

“Tch, looks like I’m doin’ all the fucking work.” 

“Shut it, king- you’re boring me.” 

Nagi suddenly let himself fall back to the sand, hands rising to press your tits tighter together and he started to rut his hips up into you. That sudden burst of energy to carry him over the edge, he kept thrusting even when he came, shooting hot white ropes out thickly covering his stomach and chest, his messy thrusting even making it hit his chin. 

He was whiney when he came, but it still carried that lazy drawl. He glanced down as his hips started to stutter, head of his dick covered in cum and still drooling out the slit. 

“Feel good Sei?” 

He nodded dumbly, eyes fixed on his dick in your tits and listening to your honey voice finally gracing his ears with his name. 

“You did so good, Sei, you taste so good.” 

That caught his attention, half hooded grey eyes turned up to you, watching your tongue lapping up his cum that had landed on your chin and lips, you stuck it out showing the white melting on your tongue.

“You’re so pretty- s’not fair.” 

You laughed lightly at his childish pout, swallowing whatever you could collect on your tongue left from him and he tasted fucking good. 

“I like you-“ 

Only Nagi Seishiro could blurt out something like that without changing his lazy tone, without sounding like there was anything behind it and it being believed. Sei had this way of just saying things without any weight but the way his face would light up, his eyes would brighten that’s how you knew he meant something. 

And he was looking at you like that. 

The words were enough to stutter Barou behind you, he sneered at Nagi’s open admission pissed off he finally had the balls to fucking say it. 

Barou knew longer than you did that the lazy genius was into you, how you’d not picked it up was beyond the egotistical striker. It wasn’t the first time someone took interest in you, it wouldn’t be the last, but Barou was sure he was the only one who actually got under his skin. 

It actually made him paranoid. Barou knew he wasn’t easy to be around, normally he didn’t give a shit about it either —people adapting to him, end of, but you were different. The those words from Snuffy still haunted him; how he’d said how much would he love himself if he was no longer view as a genius.

It was hard to not let it drift into how you’d see him if you found someone more… tolerable.

That’s why he stormed here after reading the group chat —he seen Nagi change his mind because of you and you’d be wearing barely anything. It would be over his dead body before he allowed you to be left anywhere alone with Nagi.

The thought of the fucking sand everywhere made his skin crawl, knowing he’d be finding it around the house for days after this. 

But his ego far outweighed his ocd in this case.

Sex with you to start used to be clean and fairly organised, because he couldn’t take the mess —now he didn’t think twice about it, he let himself get lost in it with you. 

But this was filthy sex, sharing you like this, everyone sweating you’d cum so much it was dribbling down your legs and covering his thighs. 

But it was fucking hot, it sent him feral but his drop from his high happened when Nagi just admitted he liked you. 

Barou shifted, disliking the feeling of being left out like this —by you. He hadn’t faced you this whole time, letting Nagi see everything. 

Barou never came until he was facing you, he couldn’t, seeing your dumb expression and that love for him always helped him over the edge. 

So he shifted you, pulling his dick out for the first time and leaning back on his legs, ordering you to get up and turn around, legs too wobbly to stand you managed to turn your back to Nagi.

Barou rolled his eyes, muttering how weak you were as he grabbed your hips and lifted you up to him, keeping back on his legs he had you higher than him now. 

“Arms around my neck-“ 

He softened now he could see you, now he had you back, his natural gruffness always there but it was different in a way only you knew. His arm wrapped around your waist to keep you steady, other hand lining his dick back up with your swollen hole. 

You hissed when he lowered you, burying your face into his hair and tightening your arms. His lips pressed to your collar bone as he eased you down, a deep sigh leaving him as your cunt swallowed him again. 

“Need you lookin’ at me to cum, I’m nearly there.” 

You nodded against him and he let you adjust, your hips wiggled and he shifted his hands, gripping your ass with them he lifted you. 

“Look at me-“ 

Shakily you pulled back, hands gripping his shoulders and leaning back slightly to watch him looking up at you as he started to lift you up and down his cock. Veins popping on his arms and wrists, biceps bulging from using you as a weight. 

Fuck he was huge, damn it all he said was so handsome, his cheeks were dusted pink from the heat and effort he was putting his body through. Covered in sweat and strands of loose hair sticking to his face, his hair looked hot like that —half up into a man bun the rest down. 

“Feels good yeah? Taking this dick so well today, been a good girl for me huh?” 

You nodded dumbly as he started building you to another orgasm you didn’t think you’d be able to have, but this soft praise and pace of his dick was different. 

It made your heart swell for him, nerves buzzing and your lips tingling to press against his. 

Christ, had he even kissed you today? You needed-

“Use your words, wanna - fuck- hear how dumb you fucking sound over this.” 

“Feels g-good B-Barou,” 

“S’Pussy is made for me, god dam’it you feel so fucking good-“ 

“Y’dick i-is f’m-me, y-yeah?” 

“You sound dumb being fucked like this,” 

He chuckled at your small pout, not answering your question like you had for him. His lips twitching into a small smirk, those red eyes filling with something only you knew. His thumbs rubbing circles around your skin and his hands squeezing your ass.

“Yeah, dicks made for you, gonna cum again? Feels like it,” 

You nodded saying if he keeps talking like that you’re going to, so Barou did, lips brushing against yours he gave you soft praises mixed with degrading in his own unique way until you came around him again. It felt more numb compared to the previous but it rocked your body slowly… it felt right with how you felt for him at the moment. 

“Gonna fill you up, you gonna take it?” 

“Yeah inside- wan’it all Barou-“ 

He leaned forward into you, muffling against your skin, you just caught what he said and guilt surges through your veins on it all coming together, it made sense now. The arguing, his ridiculous sulking and lack of ability to leave you alone when Nagi was around. You should have seen it sooner and you felt like an idiot for not noticing, how could you though? Nagi did things in the same monotone manner, it wasn’t exactly easy to tell what the man really thought.. 

Say it, woman. 

Muffled and breathy, but you heard him. 

It didn’t take a genius to work out what he wanted nor why he was needing to hear it. Nagi was making him doubt, it was simple as that. You’d known Barou too long, he really was that over confident dude with an ego but there was also someone else buried under it. 

Someone not so confident in areas he had no control over, someone who was simply a normal guy when off the pitch and behind closed doors.

Your hands moved from his shoulders to cup his face, pulling him back from you, pressing your forehead against his you started to roll your hips in time with him. Eyes meeting those beautiful red ones as you looked down at him.

“I love you, Barou Shouei.”

It was whispered but he heard it, arms wrapping around your waist he brought you down on his dick in short punches, barely leaving your pussy. 

His moaning was music to your ears, hips stuttering and jolting as he came in you, shooting cum and filling you so much it started leaking past his dick to aid his sloppy thrusting. 

His body shook, nails biting into your skin as he held onto you like a life line. Your lips pressed to his tongue running over his bottom lip as he moaned out, unable to respond as his orgasm hit him hard. 

He slurred out words you couldn’t make out, between heavy pants as he finally exhaled his grip on you slacking as you both sat there panting, eyes locked and glassy. 

Nagi was still on his back behind you both, arms spread either side and his legs stretched out either side of Barou. 

A beached starfish, pouting at two lovers.

He turned his eyes from you both to look up to the blue sky, suddenly feeling so empty about the situation. He didn’t like it, he didn’t know what it was but he didn’t like it. It felt like losing, it reminded him of his parents just leaving him at home by himself when he was a teenager. 

The only thing storming around his mind that was causing it -Barou really did like you huh? 

He didn’t understand the depth of feelings all that much, he’d never really got himself involved because it was a hassle to use his spare time on things he didn’t wanna do. 

He’s seen Barou riled up, it was hardly uncommon but he’d not really paid attention to how different he actually was around you —still a stupid king like he was in Blue Lock but it was softer, more lenient. 

“No fair.” He mumbled, sighing heavily and closing his eyes to bask in that afterglow of orgasm, “m’tired.” 

Barou had already tied up your bikini and stood you up with him, straightening out your clothes and keeping you stood on wobbly legs. 

“Water, now, you’re disgusting.” 

“I can’t walk,” 

“I gotta do everything around here, such a weak ass.” 

“I’d say I’m pretty tough putting up with that shit you just pulled.” 

Red eyes rolled and he hauled you over his shoulder before turning to walk towards the sea with you moaning how he could have carried you better, it didn’t do you any favours when the man dropped you in the water. 

“Shut up whining, don’t get yourself into shit if you’re not gonna deal with the consequences. Hurry up and wash off, I wanna get off this shitty beach and get back, it’s disgusting.” 

Back at the little set up where Nagi started to doze off, on the other side of the barrier Isagi sat against it, knees bent up and elbows resting on them. 

Dick rock hard in his swimming trunks and unable to stand because of it, he frowned at the sand, moving his toes between the grains in a way to try distract himself. Bachira was some distance away collecting shells for his sand castle. 

Isagi had come over to try see if you guys wanted a round of volley ball but once again he got caught in the rough sex of you and Barou, only Nagi got to join in on the chaos. 

“I need new friends,” 

Isagi sighed out, looking up to the sky and resting his head against the barrier behind him. 

“I’m not a pervert,” he pouted, as if trying to convince himself that these situations seemed to find him, only this time he didn’t have the distraction of pudding to take his mind off it. 

Chigiri turning up was a god send, Bachira bounding over with the pretty red head following behind. Isagi trying to fight the heat crawling up his neck. 

“Isagi, idiot, you’re supposed to be on the other side.”

“It’s cooler here,” 

“Cooler than under the umbrellas?” Bachira tilted his head, yellow eyes scanning over Isagi suspiciously. Isagi’s eyes closing, jaw clenching hoping he’d didn’t look too damn close and see his hard on. 

Chigiri wasted no time in walking around the corner into the set up, seeing Nagi still sprawled out on the sand under the umbrella, sorting to doze off. 

“Nagi, you got sunscreen on your chest you’re supposed to rub it in. You’re that lazy?” 

Isagi sputtered, coughing on his own spit behind the barrier. 

“Huh?” Nagi’s eyes tiredly opened lifting his head down to look at the cum still on his chest sighing heavily he let his head fall back, “-ah, what a pain.” 

“Oh? Barou’s here?” Chigiri turned to look at you kicking water up at the giant grump only for him to swipe your feet from under you causing you to fall back again in the water and he laughed.

Lips moving in some kind of insult most likely. 

Red hair falling as he tilted his head watching you both, a weird chill running through his body watching Barou somewhat amused. 

“I didn’t even know he could laugh, it’s kinda creepy.” 

“Creepy king,” Nagi mumbled, hand reaching out to grab his phone, tilting it landscape and reopening his game “-I died, such a hassle.”

“Lovesick king more like,” Chigiri turned his attention to Nagi, eyes falling on the white splattered across his stomach and chest “-if you don’t rub that in you’re gonna tan like that.” 

Nagi’s eyes looked down past his phone, to his chest, to Chigiri then to your beach bag. 

Barou left his shirt in your bag didn’t he?

Sitting up Nagi reached for it, Chigiri not paying much attention as he started rubbing lotion into himself. 

Grabbing Barou’s shirt he used that to clean the cum off his chest, actually folding it back up and placing it back in your bag. 

Crawling back to his towel he lifted his phone, frowning with a pout. 

“Stupid king,”

© pharix 2023 permission is not given to repost, translate or post anywhere else.

[lychniis]

⚘ — TELL ME WE'RE NOT STILL HOLLOW.

i. SYNOPSIS : years ago they made a vow to you. now they ponder it, as time runs its course and as new stars wink into existence and old ones die out. or in which, they recall their marriage with you, as they seek their comfort . ( blade / jing yuan x reader )

ii. WARNING(S) : angst / fluff / comfort, spoilers to blade's backstrory alongside heavy speculation because hoo boy hoyo sure is taking its time. written pre 1.3 where dan heng's backstory will be fully cleared up, spoilers for blade's true name and the final battle of 1.2. written for @mikacynth's summer santa event, as a gift for @genshinimpactzpsff. NOT PROOFREAD.

# masterlist

&& . blade | yingxing · ( what are these memories ; held in a box )

I. GENTLY DOES HE HOLD THAT BOX, a singular, worn old thing whose wood steadily gives into rot and the weight of lost memories. Blade remembers too little of who he once was and he forgets what he does recall when his chest is borne open to his raw, beating heart. But the hairpin in hand is deceitful in its make. Plain iron and wood imbued and drenched in fleeting whispers that beckon him to old times. 

( “Yingxing!” it calls, soft, urgent, hypnotic.)

He remembers how it adorned your hair in a way where it glowed as the sun caught it ( and you glowed too, like the fires of the hearth, like iron spiderwebbed with cracks of gold ). He remembers the chai being whole, he holding one half of that heart and you, the other. He remembers that promise, that unposken agreement, that look in your eyes when you pressed it into his palms.

Come back to me.

It was an insistent thing, and it carried over, even as his mind fragmented and Yingxing, your Yingxing, was torn apart and scattered to the cosmic wind. Blade wonders why he still lets you linger when all he knew were the spinning of battles and the icy touch of death. He despises the longing it brings, the feelings it unearths, the demons it sets loose that cry out to him, that long, that weaken his resolve and leave him with a want that saturates his blood with helplessness.

( Blade despises that memory, for he sees a future in you. Something warm, something so wholly separate from the horror lurking behind his vision. He sees what was lost, a sense of normalcy stolen away years ago. The thought of you leaves Blade prone. The thought of love, he realizes, was nothing more than bitter fruit. )

II. ONE DAY, BLADE’S FINGERS PRESS TOO HARD, and the delicate wood of the chai fractures. 

He stares at the broken pieces and his hands shake with repressed fury, with a scream that rings in his head, with tears that refuse to fall, with a weight that crushes him. The hairpin is swiftly locked away and shoved into his drawers and he breathes, he stills his heart, he digs his nails into his arm till blood soaks his clothes and the pain outweighs the panic.

Do not think, he tells himself.

The hairpin in the drawer mocks him some more. Think of our promise. Think of what we were. Think of how you held me and kissed me behind the walls of our home and spoke of our dreams. Think of how we lived till our faces grew lined and our limbs grew stiffer, of how we spoke of peace in a far away place till we’d settle into the earth together.

That was not me, he hisses. He was not the white haired man whose eyes held no pain or anger. He was not the man who held you with a tenderness he was incapable of.

He looks at the drawer. The taunting does not cease and Blade sinks deeper into this pit.

III. BLADE’S DREAMS GROW HEAVIER and running away was but foolish optimism. He sees you in them, bent over one of his weapons, embing the final detailing, those touches of beauty and those flourishes that hold your strokes. He sees your hands, roughened like his from artistry and housework. He sees himself, reflected in the mirror, and he’s smiling as he calls your name.

“Don’t bother me!” you sigh. “Yingxing, I must concentrate.”

“You’d ignore your own husband?” he asks, his tone in jest. 

You look up, your gaze dark and intense, and your hair a mess held back by a single hairpin ( and this was you, holding a passion brighter than the white sparks of the forge fire. This was you, with that strange brittleness and that softness that molded your body and being ).

“You don’t want that cocky kid tailing your ass for messing up his Guan Dao now do you? I’ll be the first to run away when you seek help. I promise that!” He laughs at your flustered gaze, at how you soften up for him and cup his cheeks with a playful pout.

When Blade’s eyes open, he sees your grave. The sweet distance of his memories that trail behind dissipate. Yingxing died centuries ago, laid to rest by your side in a tomb enshrined with flowers and incense. Perhaps he could learn to accept that, to let you lay with the man you loved.

( Not him, not the monster he was. ) 

He cleans away the fallen leaves and places the broken chai atop it.

Blade leaves without a word.

&& . jing yuan · ( and as the years pass ; you're all i have that remains )

I. THE LUOFU WAS A SHIP OF GHOSTS among men and Jing Yuan was old enough to know it. To the eyes of an immortal, where centuries bleed into yesterdays and what is ancient is recent, he knows the Luofu remains a stationary side in the universe. An unchanging phenomenon, a slew of familiar crowds and faces, a sect of people who refuse to die as a curse tears apart their bodies.

Jing Yuan knew irony like an old friend, like a sworn enemy, like an act of sudden betrayal etched too deep into his skin. Jing Yuan lived through it — the only soul that remains amongst five, the general who prides the company of finches as he ponders lost dreams, Jing Yuan himself, with his every calculated move beneath the monotonous guise of languid habit.

Jing Yuan has lived a life too vast for a human and he feels it, slowly, surely as the years wear on and the sweetness of longevity turns sour. 

( And the Luofu too, feels it, as dear beloveds die yet the wounds remain fresh. When Jing Yuan met Dan Heng's gaze and saw little of that old friend, he knew, and it hurt, like a stab to the heart, like fire on bone. 

Where would he stand one day — as the living comes to wither, when it's all over? )

II. YOU WERE THE LEGACY OF A DEAD WORLD — and Jing Yuan wonders what that burden brings — when his thoughts shift to your sleeping form next to him, still like upended earth and steady stone. He wonders what it feels like to live beneath that stifling loneliness, to watch the memories of your home crumble apart and fragment into nothing ( for the cosmos, it was large and it holds little time to remember old truths ).

Sometimes he sees the younger you when your soul would set alight, the caged creature who died too many deaths while walking that dangerous tightrope. He sees the weapon you let yourself become, following the orders of loveless men that let your wrists be slit and your bones be sacrificed. 

Jing Yuan wonders if you feel like you're drowning too, if you felt like you were drowning in your home world, choking on chaos and blood while knives pressed at your throat as it seethed and hated what you were.

Because there is a story there, a tragic one in your scars and in your smile. It tells him of a place that was hardly kind to your darling heart, that spat you aside, that watched you suffer with a terrible apathy and let you cry your human tears till they dried out and you were nothing but its dark reflection.

How could you still be so kind? He wants to ask you, but he knows the answer.

Your eyes hold it, those persistent little embers scraped to the side of the hearth. And he loves them, he loves them, he loves them.

( And he loves you, behind his lazy smiles and in the way his cheeks would dimple and his lashes flutter. It’s something so passionate and deep for an old man like him and sometimes Jing Yuan fears what he feels for you.

Yet he loves you all the same. )

III. WHEN JING YUAN FIRST MET YOU, you tried to kill him, plain and simple ( and he fought back as you did in a deadly dance of your making ). 

You were a child of abundance, no matter how you revile the curse you were afflicted with. And the Hunt was an enemy and the Luofu was an enemy and to the Luofu, you were a monstrous abomination and you were a threat.

A threat, he thinks when he touches the wedding band on your finger, when you stroke his beauty mark with an absent smile. A threat, he thinks when he sees you step into battles turned sour and bring down the mara struck with chilling ease. A threat, he thinks when he sees your melancholy in how you gaze at the stars.

“I feel so small.” you admit to him one day.

“Why?”

“I always did, back home and even now.” there is a sadness imbued in you, in your very being. You knew death all too well. You saw it creep into the flesh of your friends. You felt it dig its fingers into you before you fell out of its grasp and sent you far, far away. “I suppose it’s because I felt lost.” you finally speak up after a moment’s silence. “You feel small when you’re lost, don’t you? It’s because you don’t know what to do and everything feels so much harder in the world…”

( He knows. Aeons, he knows. Destiny was never as straight as Lan’s flying arrows. Destiny brought him friends, then took them away, then brought them back again as living ghosts with clouded gazes and new names. What was he to do in the face of it, but jest? )

“Do you feel lost now?” he asks.

“You’re here.” you smile at that and Jing Yuan’s heart melts, like butter to the stove. Mimi butts her head against you. “And Mimi too. And Yanqing. It’s still hard but…I could be kinder to myself…I wish to be.”

“Good.” Jing Yuan nods. He kisses the palm of your hand, then your nose, then your lips. 

“Be kind to yourself too, Jing Yuan.”

He laughs, and it trembles, down to his chest. Jing Yuan sneaks another kiss again, letting him sink into this brief indulgence. “I will, dear heart.”

“Good.” you echo back. A laugh betrays you. It's the most beautiful sound he's heard.

IV. JING YUAN KNOWS THOSE UNFINISHED STORIES.

He contemplates his, then stops.

The universe was vast. It changes like the cloud cover and winds like the river currents. Perhaps, when the time comes, he could worry about the aftermaths and the will happens as he sets his pieces down and weaves his plans and stratagems.

He has a new chapter to write.

And you look over his shoulder, your worn hands grasping a kinder light. 

❪⠀🎬⠀❫ AINE SPEAKS ;;

kjhgFCBGHJ I HOPE I MET YOUR STANDARDS. i wish i could have posted something longer, but seeing blade and jing yuan as immediate favorites, i just knew what i wanted to do. i hope you liked my summer santa gift.

fun fact : chai are special hairpins made with two prongs, and are customarily broken in half when a pair of lovers are sepeated. considering how haitrpins play its own role in chinese courting, i just had to include that.

the reader in jing yuan's part if heavily inspired by the reader / kind of oc in the jing yuan shot i have in works. something about old people being tired together kjhgvfbh.

title credits go to lostcap!

if you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill this form up!

taglist — @silentmoths @hiraethsdesires @x-zho @dustofthedailylife @kaelily @mikacynth @snobwaffles @jnyuan @bbladie @starzqx @sangomis @ofoceansandtombsanew @zhxngii @crystalflygeo @laughterofthetombs @khxii-i

AINE | 2023. do no plagiarize, repost or rework this piece.

[perfectsunlight]

𝗝𝗘𝗔𝗟𝗢𝗨𝗦.

𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗶 𝗽𝗵𝗮𝗺 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗷𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘀𝘆

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 𝟮.𝟮𝗸

𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝘂𝗻𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗸𝘀 𝗮 𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝗲𝗺𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: 𝗷𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘀𝘆.

𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱: ✔

hanni’s favorite feeling was the one she felt whenever she was with you. 

the newjeans member felt her heart filling with so much genuine and sincere love for you whenever she laid her eyes on you. she loved you and everything that made you, you. from your eyes and their gaze, to your hands and their touch, you were heaven incarnate for hanni.

however, hanni soon realized that she didn’t like the feeling she got when she saw you and minji.

jealousy. a foreign feeling to pham hanni. the idol never got jealous before, which surprised the both of you in the beginning. but you both grew to realize that the security she felt was enough to outweigh her insecurities or doubts.

unfortunately, that wasn’t the case this time around.

a cloud of jealousy began to cast its shadow over hanni's heart, tarnishing her feelings in a way she didn’t like at all. it gnawed at her, like a persistent ache that refused to fade away. she tried to ignore it, burying her unease beneath smiles and feigned indifference, but the more she observed your interactions with minji, the stronger the pang of jealousy grew.

in her mind, she understood that friendships and connections could exist outside of your romantic relationship. she knew that you and minji had a history together, a bond forged through your shared passion for music. you were a member of the group fifty fifty, but before that you had been a trainee with minji. the two of you were friends. always had been, and always would be. but knowing it intellectually was vastly different from grappling with the emotions that surged within her.

hanni questioned herself, doubting her own worth and wondering if she was somehow lacking, compared to the easy camaraderie between you and minji. in the quiet corners of her mind, a voice whispered insidiously, planting seeds of insecurity. it taunted her, feeding her fears of being replaced or forgotten.

every time she witnessed the two of you engrossed in a private conversation, sharing laughter or inside jokes, hanni felt a twinge of exclusion. it felt like she was an outsider looking in, longing to be part of that intimate connection you shared with minji. but instead, she found herself standing on the periphery, watching as your friendship flourished, while her jealousy grew like an unbridled wildfire.

unable to contain her emotions any longer, hanni found herself teetering on the precipice of confrontation. she knew she had to communicate her feelings, to lay bare the vulnerable corners of her heart, but the fear of rejection held her back. what if her jealousy was dismissed as baseless or irrational? what if it pushed you further away?

nevertheless, she chose to ignore it all. she would rather die than tell you she was feeling jealous. to be honest, she simply thought it would just go away on its own.

she couldn’t have been more wrong.

“y/n, stop moving.” you groaned as you felt minji pulling your arm back towards her. the warmth of your body was currently supplying minji with comfort as well as you laid across her lap. the both of you, as well as the rest of her members, were watching the first movie in your “movie marathon” night.

however, hanni couldn’t help but stare at you two with a war inside her heart and mind.

you had laid on minji’s lap because you always did that. it was something you two had done for years, even before you started dating hanni. plus, it wasn’t like minji was hugging and kissing you.

so why did it bother her so much that you were so close to minji?

the scene played out before hanni's eyes, each second etching deeper into her consciousness. her heart pounded in her chest, and the ache of jealousy intensified. the logical part of her mind battled against the irrational, but the battle seemed futile.

as the movie played on, hanni's focus shifted from the screen to you and her member. her thoughts swirled in a whirlwind of emotions and doubts, fueling her jealousy even further. she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being replaced or sidelined, that her place in your heart was being threatened.

hanni's breathing quickened, her palms growing clammy as her internal struggle raged on. she couldn't continue living in the shadow of her own insecurities. but on the other hand, she didn’t want to make you feel like you had to pick between her or your friend.

leaving the comfort of her seat, hanni excused herself quietly from the movie night, her footsteps heavy with the weight of her inner turmoil. she needed space, a moment to collect her thoughts and gather the courage to address the swirling tempest inside her.

finding solace in the solitude of the bathroom, hanni closed the door behind her, shutting out the outside world and the scene she had witnessed. she leaned against it, feeling the coolness seep through her back, grounding her in that moment. taking a deep breath, she mustered every ounce of courage she possessed.

she reached for her phone and began typing, her fingers flying across the screen as she poured her heart into a heartfelt message. each word was carefully chosen, each sentence crafted with sincerity and vulnerability.

"y/n, i need to talk to you."

hanni hesitated for a moment, her thumb hovering over the send button. doubts and fears crept back in, whispering the possibility of rejection and the potential damage she could cause. overcome with her second thoughts, she deleted the message and put her phone back into her pocket.

this feeling had to go away. for her sake, and for the sake of your relationship.

after that evening, you noticed hanni was a little off. she was suddenly very clingy, always wanting to hug you from behind or hold your hand a bit longer. hanni was never against pda, but this was definitely more than what you were used to with her.

if only you knew the real reason why. however, you weren’t one to complain about your girlfriend being more affectionate.

however, hanni's internal struggle intensified, the battle between her desire to protect her relationship and her fear of vulnerability tearing her apart. she didn't want to burden you with her jealousy, convinced that it would only drive you away. so, she swallowed her emotions, burying them deep within her heart.

days turned into weeks, and the weight of her unspoken jealousy continued to grow. the vietnamese girl couldn’t shake this lingering emotion of envy. and to make things worse, you and minji had been spending a lot more time together. 

first it was minji inviting you over to play wii sports with her. hanni wanted to join you two, but she felt as if she was third wheeling her girlfriend and best friend. or maybe that's just the way she interpreted it through her jealousy.

hanni watched from a distance as you and minji laughed and played wii sports together. the sound of your laughter echoed in her ears, twisting her heart with a mix of longing and insecurity. she wanted to be a part of that joy, to share those moments with you and her friend, but her jealousy held her back.

as the days went by, hanni found herself increasingly on edge, her emotions bubbling beneath the surface. she couldn't bear the thought of losing you, but her jealousy continued to eat away at her, clouding her judgment and fueling her doubts.

things only got worse when hanni walked in on you wearing one of minji’s sweaters. 

the girl’s face twisted into confusion. why were you wearing minji’s sweater instead of hers? did you not want to wear it anymore? 

hanni's heart sank as she witnessed the scene before her. the sight of you wearing minji's sweater struck her like a blow to the chest, intensifying her feelings of insecurity and jealousy. doubts flooded her mind, casting shadows over the love she believed you shared.

but once again, she simply kept pushing her emotions further and further down. “it’s just a sweater,” she kept telling herself as the day dragged on. “it’s just a stupid sweater.”

if only your girlfriend knew that the reason you were wearing minji’s sweater was because you were washing hanni’s after wearing it for two weeks straight. you and hanni had a rule where you both could only steal one piece of clothing from each other at a time. so instead of breaking your little rule, you decided to just borrow something from your best friend.

but hanni didn’t know this. all she knew was that her newfound feeling was definitely growing and getting worse by the days.

except, you didn’t realize when something was really off until hanni started arguing about her not wanting to come with you and minji to the mall anymore. originally, it was supposed to just be you and hanni going, but at the last minute, you were asking her if minji could come along.

needless to say, the vietnamese girl did not like that idea.

“why don’t you want her to come?” you asked, slightly frustrated at this sudden passive aggressiveness coming from your girlfriend.

hanni took a deep breath, her mind racing as she struggled to find the right words. the weight of her unspoken jealousy bore down on her shoulders, making it difficult to speak without her emotions overwhelming her.

"it's not that i don't want minji to come," hanni finally replied, her voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and vulnerability. "it's just... i feel like we never have enough time alone together lately. and…i miss that."

her voice trailed off, and she cast her gaze downward, unable to meet your eyes. the truth was out in the open now, her jealousy exposed in all its rawness. it was a terrifying moment for hanni, baring her insecurities to the person she loved, fearing your reaction.

you took a moment to process her words, your frustration fading as you recognized the pain behind her actions. it suddenly dawned on you—the extra clinginess, the hesitance to include minji in outings—it all made sense now. 

hanni pham was jealous.

reaching out, you gently took hanni's hands in yours, offering her reassurance through touch. "hanni, i'm sorry i haven't been aware of how you've been feeling. i never meant to neglect our alone time or make you feel left out. it was never my intention."

hanni looked up at you, tears glistening in her eyes, a mix of relief and apprehension on her face. she squeezed your hands, grateful for your understanding.

"i know our friendship with minji is important to both of us," you continued, your voice filled with sincerity. "but you are my priority, hanni. i never want you to feel like you're being replaced or pushed aside. i love you, and i want to make sure our relationship feels secure and cherished."

hanni's tears spilled over, and she leaned into your embrace, finding solace in your words and the warmth of your presence. she felt the weight of her jealousy slowly lifting as you reaffirmed your commitment to her.

“i love you too, y/n.” she whispered, holding you close and making her own doubts disappear within your embrace. the other girl felt so happy to finally tell you how she felt. it felt even greater to know that you understood her so well.

“promise me you’ll tell me when you feel like this again, okay? i don’t want you to feel like you have to keep things from me.” you said softly, running a hand up and down her back in a soothing manner.

the newjeans member nodded a small smile on her face as she leaned up and kissed your cheek. “i will, i promise.”

“good.” you replied swiftly, pausing to lean in and whisper into her ear. “although, you are very cute when you’re jealous.” 

“be quiet and kiss me again.”

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Aemond in a relationship - SFW/NSFW

Aemond x younger!reader and Aemond x older!reader

warning : +18, smut, hurt/comfort, obsession, dysfunctional family, mother issues, body worship, breast play/nipple play, attempted (forced) abortion, fluff

info : So Aemond I wanted to have done this earlier but just had a motivation and inspiration but now the more scenes we get lets go. Have fun reading :)

masterlist

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Aemond x younger!reader

SFW °If his wife was younger than him and he was only a few years older, what he feels would be love, but it would be different. He would be someone else not a broken boy, he was the prince of the realm, a Targaryen with the greatest dragon that lived he was someone of strength and power who trusted in his abilities and protected his wife. Because that was something a husband did, a prince did. Taking care of his beloved, fulfilling his duties and raising his own family to join the royal family.

°Duties that quickly turned out to be something else. Since the betrothal a few days after his father's death, he knew it was necessary. Knew that it would serve the kingdom if he himself entered into a political marriage, since his siblings had already done their duty. ,,I know you will do better Aemond" he had his mother's words always in his mind as she looked at him had the ceremonial clothes on him and put the finishing touches before he would take his betrothed as his wife. A marriage that was sealed with a kiss and an exchange of cloaks, hopeful eyes looking at him, a hand on his back and a prince playing his part. A role he took on from his uncle. Someone who was someone in this family who was the image of the dragon of a full-blooded Targaryen.

°The wedding night after the feast he had clearly insisted on not putting on a public show, had gotten support from his own brother even if it bothered him he knew he owed him a thank you for not making a public spectacle of it, ,,Have thanks my lord husband" he had heard her uncertain voice as her hand closed firmly around his she had expected the worst but he would not let that happen. His wife was his, her body was for his sight and no one else's. One thing he made her feel was that his politeness and formality only dropped when they were alone and he allowed himself to show her his other side. She realized that he was a prince with desires and other sides but never quite let her get close to him, didn't he because of her looks? Because of her reputation? Or because of something else in him?

°He never let her know, never let her know what it was in him that sometimes led him away from her like a stranger only to place himself with her like someone dutiful. The kisses in public were almost shy and brief, their hands only touched through gloves and they spent time together in the library. He enjoyed reading the things of the story with her and she confessed to him with warm cheeks, ,,You are a man of honor and duty even on the training ground…it makes me happy to see you win" and he couldn't hide the smirk on his lips. She never asked him for anything but this knowledge that she admired him, appreciated his skills, his strength on the arena and seemed to ignore his brother completely delighted him. ,,If it excites my lady such a thing shall happen often," he murmured, placing a kiss on the back of her hand before rising from the library and making his way to his brother.

°Tournaments, fights, training exercises, victories and nothing but victories brought the prince of the realm a new armor was forged for him and he always received the blessing from his wife who cheered him on and felt nothing but joy that she could finally give her husband something, something that filled him with something that she could not, it replaced the one inside him. The satisfaction of victory outweighed his painful past, but he never took off even his eye patch, he had never been afraid of his mother whom he had protected for years, so he would not do the same with his wife, a woman who in some lights reminded him of his own mother…someone he could and would save now, someone who belonged to him and not to his brother, someone for whom he was good enough and who was his. It was during this time that something between them grew like dragon fire and he found himself more and more often in her rooms late at night to talk, to read, to eat together or to take flights on Vhagar where he could show her again what he would do, what he was capable of…until the prince too had to give in to his lust at some point in an approaching war that kept his nerves short….

NSFW

°The lust one day overcame him it was not the other he was looking for on the contrary with every time he left the council, with every time his grandfather or his mother forbade him to fly with Vhagar his dissatisfaction grew. With every victory, the adrenaline rushed through his body, but he couldn't go into the silken path with it, it would destroy the image, unsettle his inner self. It was on these days that he finally turned physically to his wife at night when the moon was high in the sky and he came into her room. ,,Aemond? Is everything all right?" her question fell from her lips as she saw her husband standing in her room, his dark leather clothes smelling of fire and smoke, her swords and blood around him like a fight. But his body was shaking it was the adrenaline running through his body after what he had done, what Vhagar had done, what the prince could not prevent…he just had to calm down. He had to turn to his wife and not let her finish talking, ignoring her worries and barely taking off his clothes, he joined her on the bed. Skilled fingers rough and cool through the night that pushed up her nightgown and pulled her closer and a kiss that set the night in motion.

°The kiss that set everything in motion, a kiss from his desperation to feel something warm and soft. Not the hold of a center, no, he brought his wife to his body, a cunt in which he could give his pleasure in a time that could be the last of his family. ,,You need me," he murmured words he wanted to pass around, but it was true that every dragon felt comfortable in fire. Her clothes slid to the ground, his would never follow the warm leather, the cool metal of the buckles on her body an alternation of ice and fire as he pressed her body against his.

°Her hands trembled unsteadily from the furs and blankets to his body, her voice asking questions and words devoured by his lips as he kissed her, squeezing her breasts with his hands, savoring the pleasure of her body for what she gave him. ,,All because of me," he murmured, letting his lips trail down hers, feeling her quiver of pleasure her first few nights, not unlike this one. His own arousal for her was consuming his wife, his beloved object. He heard her nod at his words she was his and would be his alone and no one else's not his brother's, not his father's, not his uncle's…she was his alone.

°She would serve him as an object of love and affection as he consciously turned her around, her body, her mind leaning into the pillows, understanding her lustful gaze, sire knew how he wanted it. One last look, a kiss followed by a bite on her shoulder before he thrust into her, her moans drowning in the pillows, the sounds muffled through the room as he fucked her into the mattress, his hands tangled in her hair, her back already covered in his kisses and rubs. Did you fuck her like a hound? he couldn't help but think of his brother's humiliating question, but it was true, he took her like a dog in the heat, he needed and wanted her in a completely different way than in his visit to the silk.

°Once again he did something like his brother gave in to physical love, but what would follow moments later when his thrusts became firmer and uncontrolled and he came inside her with a grunting shudder, he had the tea brought to her a few hours later, as he did every time. He wouldn't give the curse of the second born to his offspring and as long as she lived with the old dream of not being able to give him children it was a good thing…because his power was perhaps what kept him with her in the end, she was his and she would never change that.

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Aemond x older!reader

SFW

°If his wife was older and he was a few years younger, it would be completely different. It was his duty to marry, of course, a politically strategic marriage, but what else could it be in times of freedom he might at least have been allowed to choose his wife, but now to take directly a lady of her own house. The only successor to her late lord father, who had died a few weeks earlier before all of Westeros would be plunged into war, there was no better option and with his younger brother in Oldtwon there was only him to make a decision that could not be changed. But the meeting was something else, her followers and a small army of a few thousand men were formidable but also an amalgamation of Houses beneath her. A lady of power in her own domain facing the prince of the kingdom with the greatest dragon, a marriage that Aemond felt was something else.

°His mother was glad that she could not even use her children, but rather could now slowly watch the game for herself. While it was Aemond who knew he was the dragon's true blood, his brother should be whining and neglecting their shared sister, but Aemond had found his own wife, his own lady…his own special piece in this world. ,,I will not disappoint you" was the only thing he would say to his mother before the marriage and the ceremony, he knew he could never disappoint his mother like Aegon but he wouldn't when he faced her. A pair of eyes fixed on him not hating him or looking down on him she seemed to like him at least he hoped so as he felt her soft hands in his ,,How nice to see my prince husband smile…I feared not to please you" her words reaching him as she was transported in the carriage from the sept back to the castle her gaze was crossed by a brief streak of sadness. He had smiled a soft smile on his lips as he had looked at her for reasons he knew exactly why. ,,You please me my lady wife don't worry my being is yours" he assured her and gave her another uplifting look before turning his battered face away from her.

°It was a wedding, a feast, even if it was celebrated beautifully and lavishly, not least because of his brother's befegl he could feel the eyes of the others on him. A young prince of the realm at the beginning of the prime of his life barely more than half his twenty name days and his wife a rose already blossoming in the mid-thirties of her name day. He was almost pitied from outside, it seemed to him, but when he looked at his brother he saw no amusement, no wit, Aegon too drunk to care about his sister-in-law's age. He did not see what was really going on in his brother's mind as the ceremony of the first night approached, a night that would be carried out discreetly in his chamber, together and alone, through Aemond's sharp words and threats. A night that was full of physical lust but they both seemed to recognize that it was not the real thing, at least for now.

°But days and weeks after their marriage this hardly mattered, he avoided and clung to her as his comfort required. He had new clothes made for her, jewelry gifts, all his favorite colors and metals but all relatively the same as his mother's not that anyone particularly noticed the second prince of the realm had no interest in the gossip of the people but also the gossip about him remained absent but his brother the king was always the better. When he didn't retire to his room during the day to work out plans with Criston that his brother wouldn't be able to do, he trained and above all sought her "closeness". A closeness in which he could observe her like a beautiful creature in a cage, even if he was the dragon trapped in a pit of his own emotions. He caught himself smiling when he saw her again in simple activities, whether it was reading books or embroidering with his sister, it made him happy to see her so honest.

°But the more often he saw her, talked to her and looked at her in her green and gold clothes, the more often he realized at night when his thoughts strayed from the battle strategies and the memories of the past came flooding in that she was someone he needed. An realization that would soon lead to results not only when he was sent to Storms End and met his bastard nephew Lucery, but also when Vhagar pounced on him without his prompting. It was on this rainy night that the good prince's façade cracked, his duties were laid aside and the prince, still completely wet and with trembling hands that he had clenched into fists in small council, now trembled as he closed the door behind him. His wife sitting in bed with candles lit on the bedside table discovered him, ,,Aemond? What happened?" her question reached him but it was not a prince who answered as his shoulders closed in on her…it was a broken man seeking comfort in the arms of his false mother.

NSFW

°Without a word he went to her bedside and she sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at him, her eyes wandering over his body. The wet clothes, the hair sticking to his skin, his trembling hands and the look in one eye...a look of desire and fear, a look of shame and devotion. But it was her, she was the right one for him when his wife, his beloved lady, his false mother, took care of him in a situation that was presented to her almost as a gift. Her fingers went to his clothes and the pieces slid close and close with a cold shiver as he was gradually undressed and he ended up standing naked in front of her, a sight not unfamiliar to her, but the shivering she mistook for freezing was something else for him as her attempt to warm him with a fur was different than she thought.

°Instead, he interrupted her movement and came closer to her, causing her to pull herself back onto the bed, slowly understanding what he wanted. She positioned herself at the head of the bed, placing a pillow in her back to make it more comfortable as her husband positioned himself in her lap, placing his head on her chest and listening to her heartbeat, which gradually calmed down as her observation and premonition turned out to be true. When the prince closed his eyes, let out an almost heavy sigh and just lay there for a moment, ,,Please I-my Lady....Mother please just hold me," she heard his voice as she was about to put the blanket over them both when she paused in her movement and put her hand on his head. His wet hair wet her fingers and she continued while the images of a mother and her son could not have been more symbolic with the exception of his arousal, the arousal of a man and not that of a broken boy as he saw himself in her arms.

°She felt his lust in him corrupted by fear and pain and she could help him...she was the one who could do something now, who finally had power after everything and not just because of him. He had helped her to power, but at the end of the night, as she saw it, she was the one who restrained and controlled the dragon. ,,It's okay...my prince-my boy...mom couldn't be prouder of you...get some rest you've earned it you've been so good" she mumbled to him words that were said to boys, to children who still needed encouragement, who should feel proud when they did little things but a man shouldn't hear such things...but then did she even have a man lying in her womb? °She wasn't sure, but her heartbeat responding to his arousal, his body in her womb, was something she wouldn't believe and certainly not when Ameond started to move and she saw what he was doing. With warm pink cheeks in contrast to his sapphire in one eye, he looked up at her and she stroked his cheek, ,,Thank you," was the last thing he mumbled before his fingers seemed to struggle awkwardly with the lacing and full of insecurity until she helped him and opened her own front lacing, sliding her nightgown slightly open and showing him her chest. Aemond slowly repositioned himself, his head, which had been resting on her chest before, placed itself in front of her breast, the coldness of the night he brought with him sending a shiver down her spine as she felt his tongue on her sensitive nipple, ,,Ae-Aemond gently," she ordered softly, stroking his head as his other hand placed itself on her other breast. Now he didn't seem to mind that after the nights they had spent together, her body had changed, in contrast to what had been a day of disinterest and brief questions about her well-being, now that her body was changing with a child, it was just about the most divine thing he could have. °She felt him greedily lapping at her nipples before she heard his satisfied sigh as he seemingly tasted her milk, his teeth pulling at it before he apologetically lapped and sucked again. All the while she held him and told him how good and good he was stroking his head and pulling on the light strands every now and then when he was too sleepy and she saw his apologetic look but his arousal didn't diminish and she knew this was more than just an interaction. She knew that he needed her, knew that she had her dragon now as her hand went to his lap, her fingers moving rhythmically, pressing him even closer, the scent warm and soft of a woman, a mother, enveloping him more and more as he massaged her breasts and sucked on her nipples.

°His hips moved slowly with her movements and soon found a rhythm that suited the prince but she pretended to punish him by biting him too hard, ,,Ah Aemond...remember it will be enough" she murmured and stroked his lips with her thumbs as he let go of her for a moment his sapphire eye also slightly pained to close as she brushed his slightly moist milk-slicked lips over. He laid his head in the palm of her hand and cuddled up to her before she allowed him to return and they stayed like that for a few moments before she felt him slowly come closer to his climax, he squeezed her breasts tightly with his fingernails and the whimper came over her lips as she allowed him to come. ,,That's it," she said to him last as his slightly quivering body relaxed in her lap and he closed his eyes as he left the last kisses on her breasts before he allowed her to cover him with the blanket and furs and let him slip away limply but his wife stayed behind holding her husband in her arms and wiping his cum on the pillow, ,,Sleep well I know you'll need me again soon...my dear husband" she said to him as she watched over him, her sleep a small price for what she got in return besides love and lust, a dragon and a prospect of a whole new side to the game of throne and the victory of war.

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@dixie-elocin , @hufflepuffkittysworld , @girlypieee

[slayfics]

Explosive Tendencies a slow but fanfic about the readers developing relationship with Katsuki Bakugo.

Chapter five: the test exercises are finally here.

Chapter links

With the written tests completed, the test exercise was finally commencing. It was revealed that the test exercise was for two students to go up against one of the U.A. teachers.

Katsuki had stormed off practically as soon as he was told his partner was Izuku. You watched as he walked off and Izuku's face fell. It was clear Izuku would have liked to strategize with him especially given that they were paired against All Might.

You weren't exactly shocked that even those circumstances didn't persuade Katsuki to talk to Izuku. The rest of the class seemed to just pass off Katsuki as hating Izuku and being a bully, which wasn't exactly wrong. However, it was painfully obvious to you that things ran even deeper than that.

Katsuki didn't just simply hate Izuku, there was something about Izuku that triggered Katsuki's own insecurities. As if Izuku being a good hero would make Katsuki less of one. You couldn't really understand why though. What was it about Izuku that triggered those insecurities so deeply with Katsuki?

Even more, it baffled you that Katsuki clearly had so much he wanted to prove to himself. He was already an amazing hero and you all had only been at U.A. for just a few months. Could he not see how everyone else looked at him in awe? Sure fear and disdain too, but the admiration and passion he sparked in everyone else by far outweighed the negatives.

After strategizing with your own partner you decided to walk over to check on him.

"How are you doing?" You asked, approaching Katsuki.

"How the hell do you think? Out of everyone I could have been paired with I get stuck with that fucking loser," He barked, still agitated at the pairing.

"Yeah, I figured you'd say something like that," You laughed.

"Then why even bother coming over to annoy me?" He asked.

You tried to ignore his signature attitude and get to the point before he stormed off again.

"Well, Aizawa said they picked these match-ups for various reasons. Including interpersonal relationships. I think there's a clear reason they paired you with Midoriya. They want to see if you both can push aside whatever this bad blood is for the sake of taking down a villain. As much as you hate it, imagine if you and Midoriya did have to work together on a mission as pros one day."

"Don't you think I figured that shit out already? I'm not dumb."

"Then what are you doing sitting here and not strategizing with him? You two have the toughest teacher," You responded.

"I'm going to show them that I don't need to work with that nerd ever. I'll take care of it myself," He grumbled.

"You'll take care of All Might... by yourself. I thought you just said you weren't dumb?" You replied, pushing out the rest of his patience.

"I said I'd handle it! Why the fuck are you here trying to help me anyway," He yelled and shoulder-checked you as he left. Even though he'd never admit it, he knew you were right, but it was going to take a beat down from All Might before he'd admit it to himself.

Inevitably, the match between the two boys and All Might had left them in bad condition. You couldn't help but feel a bit proud of Katsuki while watching the match. Even though it pained him he did work with Izuku in the test even letting him use one of his gauntlets. This of course only happened after he tried to take on All Might single-handedly with no success. However, you knew how hard that was for him and after seeing how fiercely he fought in the exercise you felt you had to visit him.

A few other students were crowded around Recovery Girl's door waiting to hear about others who had gotten hurt in their matches. You sat on the floor while you waited for Recovery Girl to come out and announce it was okay for everyone to come in and visit Katsuki and Izuku.

The hall was filled with echoing voices of students talking about their own matches mixed in with anxious comments about those who were hurt. You noticed quite a few students were here to see Izuku. Finally, Recover Girl came out announcing that Izuku was awake and well enough to have visitors, however, Katsuki was still knocked out and not likely to wake up for a while. At that news, you grabbed your stuff and left. A few classmates noticed your swift exit but didn't call after you, as they were too anxious to get in and talk to Izuku.

Some time later you decided to try and visit him again. This time you found he was awake and able to have visitors.

"You look like crap," You said walking next to his bed.

"You came here just to tell me that?"

"No, I came to say... that I'm proud of you. I know it wasn't easy for you to work as a team with Midoryia but you did it," You replied. Katsuki's face scrunched up and he seemed to wince internally at your comment.

"Shut the hell up I don't want to hear that shit from you. Just go back to saying I look like crap or get out," He said, turning his gaze from you to the ceiling.

You couldn't help but laugh. Even though he had done it and overcame his pride for just a bit to work with Izuku his resentment toward him was not letting up.

"Well, you do look like crap. All Might beat the shit out of you... but you weren't ever going to give up and that's pretty admirable. Glad you're feeling better," You said and left the room.

Katsuki’s eyes widened at your short-lived praise. It was praise that came with no judgment attached, unlike the feedback he had gotten since starting U.A. You didn’t tell him anything he did wrong or could have done differently. You didn’t berate him for not getting over his pride sooner or being too mean. You only focused on the positives and that wasn’t something he or anyone else around him did.

Tags: @unofficialmuilover @anon-mouse233 @maddietries

[waklman]

Birthday Wish

summary: bradley realizes you’re his source of comfort or bradley celebrates his first birthday with you.

warnings: angst, mentions of death/trauma from childhood. 18+ blog in general.

word count: 1.2k

a/n: wrote this in the spur of the moment because of this song. raahhh

something ‘bout you masterlist.

When Bradley was a little boy, he didn’t have a special blanky to hang onto, not like the other kids in his daycare did. 

All he had was a miniature toy plane. It was flimsy–something that would probably snap right in half, if he squeezed his tiny hand around it too hard. 

But, that cheap piece of plastic offered little Bradley everything he needed—everything a blanket couldn’t ever give him.

So four year old Bradley loved it with all his heart—well, he loved it with his limited knowledge of the concept. There wasn’t a moment where he didn’t cling onto it, bringing it everywhere his growing feet took him. He even slept with it, ignoring the dulling pain caused by it’s blunt edges—stabbing right into his ribs as he hugged it for solace. 

Anyone could imagine the heartbreak he felt the day it broke. 

Bradley threw a fit that very day, not wanting to blow out his birthday candles—not wanting to celebrate his birthday without his Goosey. Bradley wasn’t sure himself, why it made him so angry–why he felt so wrong in his own skin when the homemade cake was placed in front of him, with a celebratory song accompanying it. 

All little Bradley knew in that confusing stir of emotions—was that he wanted to toss that cheaply made toy in his hands. So he did—he slammed it to the ground with all his strength–all the strength he’s accumulated in five years of life went into tossing the thing.

And it completely came undone onto the kitchen tile in front of him, sending shockwaves of guilt into the air. 

Finally registering what came of his outburst—Bradley cried harder in discernment—his screams came out with great force, as his mother scrambled for the toy with shaky hands. 

All Bradley knew at that moment was that he just wanted his toy plane back. 

Though he couldn’t clearly recall the day of his father’s funeral, Bradley remembered his mother’s quite well. 

He sat at the grave for hours—letting the rain wash over him, letting it soak through his rented suit. 

After the sun had finally set into the horizon, the soggy fabric clung onto Bradley’s skin coldly—almost as a punishment. There was no longer any sunshine to soothe the goosebumps scattered down his arms.

It didn’t bother him at the time, the way his button up uncomfortably glued itself to his back, the way his shoulder pads sat thickly on his shoulders, gaining weight from the water it absorbed—because Bradley had already decided that nothing could possibly outweigh the numbing pain in his chest. 

Where was that toy plane when he needed it? Bradley laughed bitterly to himself at the question.

Whoosh.

The familiar sound of an aircraft could be heard above the graveyard, pulling Bradley’s tired eyes away from the weather-beaten headstone. 

His lids stretched at the sight, burning the surface of his eyeballs—now exposed to the saltiness of the air around him. 

Bradley couldn’t believe his eyes, because there was his plane.

It was white with a streak of cobalt blue stretched over its wing, just how he remembered it.

But as quickly as Bradley caught sight of it, it was gone again—sweeping through the sky with a new destination in mind. 

It was like greeting a long lost friend. The exchange was bittersweet—because you both had the knowledge that you’ll part ways soon, after finally seeing eachother again. 

Bradley spent the next few hours staring at the vast amount of stars in the sky, watching them twinkle amongst each other.

But there was one specific star that caught his attention that night. It was the biggest mass there, and the brightest one too—completely contrasting against the black veil of darkness behind it. 

Falling into a deep trance, Bradley eventually decided that the star reminded him of Carole Bradshaw. Maybe it was the grief speaking or maybe it was truly her. Its luminosity almost perfectly resembled the ring of bright highlights crowning her head—there was no mistake in that likeness—Bradley knew that for sure. 

And for as long as he could, Bradley didn’t tear his eyes off that glow in the sky, not wanting to lose it amongst the other shimmers of light surrounding it, trying to weakly outshine it. He didn’t even blink, worried it would disappear if he did. 

He knew he would eventually lose it, he couldn’t stay at his mother’s grave forever, the night security guard would find him and ask him to leave soon enough. But for now, Bradley sat motionless, staring up at his mother who shined back down on him.  

He wishes he could stay here with her forever.

Bradley found himself here many times before. Laying in the darkness, only to punishingly stare at the daunting clock hung above his bedroom door frame—reminding him how early he’s woken up again. 

But this time, you’re here with him—sleeping over for the first time. Bradley turns his head, pooling his attention onto you. Your cheek is pressed against the mattress under you, exhausted from the long day spent with him, and your arm is thrown over his waist like a weighted pillow. 

Gently, Bradley reaches out a hand over to your face, brushing back the hairs that block your passageway of air, moving the drool coated globs of hair that shields your parted lips. He smiles to himself, humming at the way you sweetly press your cheek against his palm, mistaking him for the mattress. 

And though the room is pitch black, with the darkness completely wrapping itself around your figure—Bradley swears he sees you glow. It’s brief, it always is. 

He catches small glimpses of it here and there—where your skin radiates against his.

It was there when he first spotted you in that parking lot, it was there when your shared pet goldfish died, and it was there when he anxiously couldn’t pick which birthday cake he wanted from the day before. 

You glowed like a star, making everything surrounding you into the night sky. Bradley’s heart swells at the conclusion. 

It’s only you two in the kitchen. You woke up around five am, two hours after Bradley had stirred awake—pressing his birthday boy kisses all over the expanse of his face as he shyly smiled under you, caught off guard by your burst of energy. 

Too excited to go back to sleep, you pulled him out of bed with a grin, and a desire to eat chocolate cake. 

Now, Bradley sits with a cake in front of him again, and you in his lap. 

“..happy birthday to you!” You sing excitedly, pressing a kiss to his cheek, waiting for him to blow out the candle with an encouraging smile. “Whenever you’re ready, honey,” you whisper the assurance, resting your head onto his shoulder. 

Bradley squeezes his arms tighter around your waist, and you glow again—he sees it from the corner of his eye. It’s all Bradley needs to blow out the already melting candles. 

“What’d you wish for big guy?” You ask, pulling him into a bruising hug. 

Bradley softly smiles. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you, babybear or else it won’t come true,” he mumbles against your neck. 

You laugh, shaking him back in fourth in the hug, almost knocking you both out of the chair. “Nooo! You’re right birthday boy—aren’t I silly?”

“Just a little,” he answers, lightly laughing at you.

Bradley couldn’t tell you what he wished for. Not because he was afraid it wouldn’t come true—he didn’t believe in that crap.

It was because he didn’t wish for anything at all. Right as his eyes shut to blow out the wax symbolizing his growth, he couldn’t think of anything he wanted.

Because truly—there was nothing to wish for, not this birthday.

Bradley doesn’t need that toy plane nor did he need to see that resilient star that glowed against his skin that one night, not when he has them both here in his arms.

They’ve just took a new shape.

thank you for reading, and as always-reblogs are greatly appreciated!

join taglist for this series here or follow me on @waklman-library and turn on notifs to be notified when i post!

tags: @wkndwlff @sammyrenae68 @f1-and-shiz @stark3ys @roosterbruiser

[scremogirl]

HEAR ME OUT PLS!... reader whos fine w casually/non casually/no romantic fucking... this prompt is sickening LITERALLY as long as reader gets birth control/condoms theyre ay-okay with it

(doesnt need 2 be added:D FIND WHAT U THINK SUITS UR WRITING ATM)

example js

reader scrolling on their phone while nerd is rearranging their guts

or

council president railing reader while theyre in a mating press on a chair

or

childhood friend who didnt even have to ask you to take care of their problem since middle school(?)

seems like NONCHALANT!Reader but this reader just doesnt care abt what they want and just cares for their friends...in their own way...Add whatever u like sosa!!!! <3

stawppp it.

(presents an AFAB reader)

Yandere! Nerd has been so pent up lately and never has time to relive his stress. With all the club meetings, preparing for college and the love of his life ignoring him, it's obvious he's got a lot on his plate. Therefore, when he finally has the time to let loose, there's no way he could bother with protection.

"Please, baby? I know how much you like it raw anyways. You're still on the pill right? oh what he hell, it's not like you care that much. You have been a little snippy with him lately so he deserves this much. The only problem with is that you can't be bothered with putting in that much effort. So here you are now laying flat on your stomach while Yandere! Nerd pounds your brains out.

"Ugh fuckkk angel, it feels so gooddd," his heavy breathing and the light blush on your cheeks make you clench around him harder. You make him pull out as you roll yourself over on your back. You grab your phone again as he shoves himself back in you. You angle your camera to where your hips meet, occasionally aiming it at his face. He cums so much that when he pulls out some of it lands in the camera lens.

!Ping!

Angel😇💕💍: 1 attachment

Angel😇💕💍: srry I can't be there tdy. cramps and what not.

enjoy this instead :p

When do you get off your period again?

Sigh. How's he supposed to work like this?

Yandere! Council president rubs his temples and lets out a deep sigh of frustration. The council is having an after school celebration along with some club members because of last weeks fundraiser.

They did well but someone needs to count all of the funds and there's no way he'll trust anyone else do it.

He stands from his chair opening the door, on his way to tell them to keep it down bug to his surprise your on the other side of the door.

"What're you doing here?"

"I go to school here," he sighs at your blunt behavior.

“Yes, I know that. I mean what are you doing at school after hours?" you held up a bag of food and he already knew what you were gonna say before you said it. He opens the door to let you in, relived that at least one thing can cheer him up.

"Besides." you continue

"I'm horny. I was gonna get a quick one out before I went back but then I remembered you were here. I can obviously see your not feeling well and Im in the mood for something rough: take it out on me,"

The chair bangs against the table as you legs are pressed against your head. Who knew you were this flexible? He'll have to keep that in mind for later, right now he's focused on shooting his load as deep as he can. The music outweighs your moans and isn't until you here a loud bang on the door that you stop.

"(Y/N)? You in there? We're about to start truth or dare. Julie's gonna dare Chris to jump ass naked into the school pool. You don't wanna miss it." says a voice from outside the door.

“I’ll - fuck I'll be out in a second. Ate to much, ugh dip y'know; a little full," and with that they leave.

Yandere! CP turns your face towards him with an animalistic sneer.

"The only thing you'll be full of is my cum."

Please take a plan B 🙏🏾

(You guys are seniors here!!!)

Everyone's masturabted before, let's be honest.

Curious minds wanting to feed their growing sexual appetite. So when Yandere! Childhood friend came to you about his little problem, it was your duty as his best friend to help.

"(Y/N) it hurtssss! Just look how red the tip is!" on queue it twitches and pulses under your gaze.

Jeez the guy has no shame does he? He grabs the base, stroking his hard cock under his strong palm. It didn't take you much conniving since you were already on your knees before him.

"Oh shit baby! Gonna let me pump it all down your throat? Ughh, gonna-gonna milk all of it outta me princess I swear,” he says between pants, continuing throat fuck you. His orgasm nears as he grabs the base of your neck and forces you down on him. Spit and cum dribbling down your child and into your chest. He paints your face and swipes his fingers on your face before forcing it back into your mouth. After you all cleaned, you stand to your knees After you all cleaned, you stand to your knees sitting on the couch turning on Lilo and Stitch.

"Make some popcorn for us will ya?"

You literally suck the soul outta him and then ask him to do something other than go another round; he’s gonna do it but damn 😭

[bekkachaos]

Buck sat back at the table with a grin. Christopher might be too old for him to think it, but he was adorable with Eddie's medal around his neck.

Buck's eyes turned to where Eddie stood laughing with Tommy and Chim, giving a soft smile and wondering how he got so lucky to have them all in his life.

"It must be great," he was pulled out of his thoughts by Marisol to his right, diverting his eyes to her as she gazed fondly over at Eddie. "Working with people you have so much trust in."

She turned back to him with a warm smile and Buck just nodded.

"Best part of my job," he said. "Though kind of the most nerve racking as well."

"I'll bet," she chuckled. "Must be hard too going into such dangerous situations with people you love."

He knew she was talking about Eddie and Chim, but his ears still flushed as his eyes flitted over to Tommy for another moment.

"Just balance I guess," he said. "And honestly I see them outside of work just as much, I feel like the good outweighs the danger."

"You're telling me!" she said with a light chuckle as she sat back and crossed a leg over her knee. "I know how much Eddie and Chris love you but you're really cutting into my date nights!"

For a moment, Buck's brow knit with confusion and he just looked back at her with his mouth slightly ajar.

"Uh, what do you mean?" he said with a breathy chuckle, thinking maybe the joke had gone right over his head.

"All the time Eddie's been spending at yours lately," she said, as though it was obvious. "He blew me off twice last week for you."

Buck was still confused. He had seen hung out with Eddie the week before, but Marisol had been at work. The only other times were when Eddie dropped Christopher off for their dates.

"And then when you needed help with your car," she continued. "And he had to rush off to help."

An unconmfortableness crept into Buck's stomach, because he knows for a fact that that never happened. He knew he had been silent too long so he just let a smile fall to his lips and nodded.

"Yeah, sorry about that," he said, and she just shrugged before turning to look at Eddie who had now walked over to them and had his hand on her shoulder, leaning into press a kiss to her temple.

He was grinning widely as he walked over towards Christopher and put his arms around his neck to give him a hug as his eyes turned to Buck with that gleam of happiness in them.

Buck gave a small jolt as he felt a set of large hands on his shoulders, Tommy's lips coming down to kiss him on the cheek.

"Hey, everything okay?" he said, sensing the tension in him.

Buck Just nodded putting a hand over one of Tommy's and looking up with a forced smile as he turned his eyes back to Eddie.

He wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. He knew that surely he must have a good reason. He trusted Eddie enough that he did, but he couldn't ignore the feeling inside him that something wasn't right. Why else would Eddie bother to lie to him? It wasn't the time to ask, so instead, he just nodded, trying to ignore the gnawing feeling in his belly.

"Yeah, I'm good."

[winters-on-the-wing]

I hate regulus and snape too. I just don't get how people like them. they're such bad characters, nothing can make their actions better.

honestly i think that a few people started to see potential in them that jk rowling didnt bother to bring out, and they’ve created extremely fanon interpretations (usually them projecting themselves onto little pathetic white boys) that they’ve grown attached to and refuse to hear criticism about.

which is fine! at least it’s fine until they attack people for disliking the canon characters that DO exist in the books and movies.

while it’s valid to like any character regardless of their actions, i am in the same boat as you. i just don’t get what people see in them! when i talk to snape fans about his extreme faults, they either deflect by saying another character is worse (and they’re usually wrong) or they make up a reason why what snape did was actually okay and good and perfect.

i don’t want to hear about how regulus is a poor pathetic little meow meow who needs his big strong james potter to carry him around when he literally was a passionate death eater who actively agreed with the rhetoric until the very end when he changed his mind. one moment of epiphany doesn’t reverse years of damage.

honestly i think i dislike toxic snape/regulus fans more than i dislike the characters themselves. i know there are plenty of good eggs for both characters but the bad unfortunately outweighs the good.

sorry for the ramble but i think we are on the same page here. the difference between fans like you and me and those fans is that when i see an opinion i disagree with, i either engage with it as civilly as i can, make my own post about it that anyone can just ignore or block me over, or i just scroll past. i don’t stalk their pages and harass them and attack them personally. i don’t send barrages of paragraphs about how wrong they are when the topic is literally up to interpretation and there’s no such thing as right or wrong.

i think people who take fictional characters on the internet that seriously are a little bit terrifying if i’m being honest like don’t they have jobs 😂

anyway thanks again for letting me ramble on your ask. i agree with you so much.

[blank468]

Describe Bakugo’s development in short words

If you were to ask me how would I describe Bakugo’s development in short words, it would come across as being boring and predictable. Let’s start with the fact that despite being a secondary character, Bakugo has no real purpose/contribution in the main story line. His involvement with Deku and OFA doesn’t amount to anything other than mindless yelling, guilt tripping, and just him treating it as a competition to try and surpass Deku when he unlocks his other quirks. The only reason he’s involved in a lot of what’s going on is because of his popularity. He started gaining popularity when he won the Sports festival and because everyone like the stereotypical angry rival trope. He can be replaced by literally any other character and nothing would change.

It’s basically a pattern whenever Bakugo is involved with something.

- Bakugo will treat others beneath him and continue to call the extras.

- Whatever is going in the story if it’s a fight between the villains or something school related, he’ll treat it as a competition.

- He’ll either verbally attack Deku and everyone around them or get physical to get what he wants.

- Deku won’t see this as an issue and continue to gush over Bakugo about how he’s a good friend and the idea of him being the symbol of victory

-Anyone that calls out his horrible behavior will do a complete 180 and talk about how whatever he said either makes sense or to give some baseless excuse about how he changed

- Aizawa, All Might and or anyone in UA will make some claim about how his some kind of an inspiration for 1A and Bakugo is trying harder than everyone else(completely ignoring all of 1A’s accomplishments and improvements throughout their first year)

- After winning or coming out on top whatever Bakugo will take his win for granted and will act like it doesn’t mean anything while acting aggressive when someone compliments him

- What ever punishment or consequences he gets(not matter how fatal is) will be minor and the story will find to way to have him come out at top without any struggle

- The story will have characters feel bad, guilty for Bakugo for something so minuscule and or try to punish them in a similar manner like Bakugo (A recent example of the story punishing characters because of Bakugo’s actions is in the Card OVA. I didn’t bother watching it because I knew it was just a product plug for training cards but from what I viewed from other people’s discussions, the match between Deku and Bakugo ends with a tie. Apparently Bakugo threw another hissy fit and not only destroyed the card game but blew up the dorm with everyone inside. Instead of punishing Bakugo for destroying public property and potentially injuring his classmates, Aizawa decides to punish all of Class 1A and ban them from playing any other games in the dorm.)

I know everyone has their own interpretation on how they feel about Bakugo and that’s perfectly fine. I don’t have problem if you like him, but Bakugo is written as if everything he did or stood for never mattered. Izuku, Class 1A , UA and by extension Horikoshi, wants the audience to believe that all the positive aspects about his character somehow outweigh the negatives and we’re supposed to accept that Bakugo has fully grown while at the same time instantly forgiving him for being a spiteful and petty bully. No matter what happens to him, he’ll still come out on top as if what he went through wasn’t consequential or lethal. He’s constantly giving wins and random asspulls to favor him despite either doing the bare minimum of his supposed development or not doing anything at all. Bakugo in the eyes of others will always be seen as the true MVP and is the one that always has to win. He’s nothing but a pet under the care of his creator who will go out of his way to make every other character look bad and pathetic than they already are; including the main protagonist.

[gilly-moon]

Feel free to ignore this but have you ever had to face people sending you like negative comments and stuff for making nsfw works? Because I just started making some art myself and already got hate for it and I'm trying not to let it bother me but I just had to ask, are the anons I'm dealing with just specifically annoyed by me or is this something that nsfw artists go through in general?

Ohgosh I'm so sorry you're having to deal with that, especially right away 😥 I don't think I've gotten any negativity/hate for my nsfw works specifically but it's also possible I forgot about it. Mostly because I've learned to just immediately block whoever is sending dumb comments & delete the comment itself. The less time/energy you give it, the easier it will be to eventually move past it. I've deleted & blocked within seconds of recieving comments and its a very freeing experience when you get comfy doing it.

I also think this can heavily depend on which characters you're drawing nsfw of (sometimes including ocs), but I can't say for sure. I hope the positive reactions can outweigh the bad for you, and you can draw your nsfw in peace 💛