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tehrevving · 4 years ago

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Casual Property Damage Finally Catches Up To Local Himbo

I promised that I would write a little fic for @twinkstimulator if they stopped procrastinating and studied for their exam. I’m not entirely sure they stopped procrastinating, but they’ve just sat the exam and it was super difficult so I guess they deserve a little bit of a treat.

Anyway, this is based off a 'shitpost’ that they mentioned a few weeks ago. I made it sexy tho lol. Anyway I hope you enjoy :D

---

It turns out that Dante has a secret hidden fantasy, one that he doesn’t want to make public. He’s so afraid of letting it be known for some reason, that he even refused to tell you. It wasn’t until you prodded him, edged him to the depths of hell and back, promised him that the only way he would get release would be if he divulged his little secret to you, that he finally spilled the beans. You don’t know what he was so afraid of, his fantasy almost perfectly aligned with your own interests, as they usually do.

So here you are, the both of you together. Dane kneeling on the crappy, faded couch in the front room of the office. His palms pressed against the cracking paint on the walls for support, which of course he needs because his legs are shaking almost uncontrollably. You’re kneeling on the floor, one hand supporting yourself on the soft crease between his thigh and his crotch, the other stroking the wet shaft of his cock. Your lips are wrapped tight around the tight, slightly hairy skin of his balls, sucking them between your lips while your nose presses up against his taint.

It’s not an easy position to stay in, your neck is starting to ache, between his tall height and his legs shaking, it’s difficult to stay steady. Your hand on his cock is also extended, and it’s tricky to keep the coordination of stroking his stupidly large dick while trying not to gag on his balls as he presses his hips down. He smells like pure man, a hint of soap but mostly a delicious musk that almost makes your head spin.

“God, that’s it sweetheart. Fuck yes,” he calls out. He’s so fucking into this, cock leaking copious fluid that you rub all over his swollen shaft. Changing up your rhythm occasionally to twist your first firmly against his thick head, timing and alternating with rough sucks on his balls and a hard press of your nose against his taint.

There’s saliva dripping from your chin and you struggle to keep a grip on his large, shaking thigh. His balls are drawn up tight, moving closer to his body so you have to crane your neck up even more to reach them. They’re practically pulsing in your mouth from the contractions of his muscles as pleasure courses through his body. Short hairs prick against your tongue, he’s decently groomed but he’s still a silver fox; the texture only motivates you more.

You can hear him above you, voice hoarse and cracking with pleasure, “Fuck Babe. Shit just like that.”

You squeeze the shaft of his cock, you want to push it up, press it against his tight abs and rub it against the scratchy fabric of his shirt while you suck down hard on his balls, but he’s too big, and your arms just don’t have enough reach in this position. You settle for tightening your hand on the base of his cock, squeezing in pulses so he can fully just focus on the sensations on his balls.

“Fuck I’m so close,” he moans, so you step up your game and bring out your own secret weapon, a slight scrape of your teeth against the far too sensitive skin of his balls. He screams and you take that as permission to do more; you know he’s an absolute fucking masochist, a slut for pain and pleasure and right now is no different. You can feel his heavy cock jerking against your fist with each press of your teeth against his tight balls. He shakes above you as they practically pulse in your mouth.

You suck them fully between your lips, biting down on the skin and pressing your tongue into the seam between them. It’s almost like you’re threatening to bite them off, pressing harder and harder while you twist your fist against the dripping head of his cock until he comes with an almighty shout.

He presses his hips forward, to get friction against your tight grip on his cock, presses down on shaking legs to get more pressure against his aching balls and taint. You can feel them tense as he comes, the flesh shifting in your mouth as you also hear a resounding crack as he manages to put his hands through the brick wall ….. again. You try to catch everything that you can but he still makes a huge mess, come dripping down the headrest of the couch.

He collapses on the couch and you struggle to get yourself out from the tangle of limbs. He rubs the cricks out of your neck once he’s come down a little bit, lying lazily on the couch because he’s so fucking spent. There’s wipes underneath the leather seats specifically for these scenarios so it’s not long before you’re both just basking in the afterglow.

Dante stretches, joints popping. He declares that he’s hungry and you stand up easily, albeit on slightly shaky legs. Dante moves to get up but then struggles, putting his arms on the seat and then lifting up, only for his face to scrunch up in absolute horror as he realises that his balls, wet from your saliva are stuck to the couch.

The look on his face is absolutely fucking priceless, and you can’t help but laugh hysterically.

#dmc #dmcv #dante #dante x reader #dante sparda #rev writes #my writing

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sn4kebites · 3 years ago

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hello im Late To The Party lmaooo but i think i've gathered my thoughts enough to form a decent ask 🦥

i honestly feel like the content in the tags is just so ... stagnant. like you go through any x reader tag and it becomes very apparent very quickly that everything is basically just half-assed copy-pasted headcanons that honestly...don't really involve that much thought. and the sad thing is that's what's popular, because its so easily consumable and so easy to mass produce, so ppl see that that type of content gets attention & followers so they start to copy it and it starts a cycle of boring content lmao.

i feel like this was really clear a few months ago where all these blogs under networks started popping up and you genuinely Could Not tell the difference between them...from the same themes to same content to literally the same carrds lmao (on a side note....the fact that so many of them had a "besties" list did not sit right w me lmao.... like it just screamed high school clique and clout chaser to me). like if that's all you're producing i genuinely cannot imagine being proud of your content like that ... and judging by the way so many of the blogs die out within a 2-4 month period . 🥴

and what makes me mad is that whenever we point out these problems and criticize the community all we get in return is "you're just jealous" and "let people read what they want" and a slew of hate anons putting u down to defend their favs. but the thing is, no one is telling them to stop. no one is telling them what they can and can't read—hell, even i end up reading that type of content occasionally because its just, exactly what's on the tin. it's easy. it's consumable.

but what is a problem is that this community settles for mediocrity. they raise the blogs that create this type of content onto a pedastal and act like they're the second coming of shakespeare when literally all they make is "how hq boys hold your hand" and "hq boys as tiktok trends" with no original thought at all.

there's no unique voices, at least not anymore, and i genuinely believe it's because of the burnout that this community has caused for them. writing is a hobby you do for yourself first and foremost, i know that. but there comes a point where when all you do is pour your heart and soul into creating fics and it gets little to no attention at all and that popular blog who made their 12th headcanon list about how hq boys as tiktok trends gets like 1k notes... i don't blame them for leaving :")

i might have more to say that i'm forgetting atm but these are My thoughts [folds hands] . if you made it through all of this JDKALW my apologies 🐌🐌

WHEW MEG WHEN YOU SAID HOW HQ BOYS HOLD YOUR HAND I FOLDEDDDD PLEASE UR SO RIGHT

i feel ppl are so dismissive of it but it's like so genuinely an issue and you cannot talk about it because people will really just call you bitter and it's like man i LIKE blogging. if i hated i wouldn't be here and me thinking about these things is not me being bitter

it's literally just evaluating the way content is percieved and how that has leaked itself into writing. fic writing is a form of meta analysis. when you focus so much on consumability i feel like you lose such a fundamental aspect of it

like.. character building, and plot and development - all of these incredibly important things get lost when people are too bothered to read anything over a thousand words. and it MATTERS because the core of fandom stuff is analysis and characterization and exploring a world anf these concepts and when you completely lose the space for that it's.. frustrating 2 say the least

and it's like.. i LOVE shitposting. i make fake tweets and shit like that because it's so entertaining but it's weirdly depressing to see how quickly those posts tend to circle around like IDK there's just.

I AGREE WITH ALL OF YOUR POINTS COMPLETELY THE WHOLE THING IS WILDLY FRUSTRATING

#void.answers

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obutsuwrites · 5 years ago

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Pomegranates (overhaul x reader)

tumblr request: I have read your Overhaul’s fantasy scenario and i think it’s so cool!! Do you mind writing another Overhaul x reader scenario? If you do, then I suggest the scenario being based on the Hades and Persephone love story. Like Overhaul as the god of death and the reader as the goddess of spring (or whatever)?

Summary: “Up there?” Overhaul prayed she would stay; his heart determined to keep the deity. He wanted to feel the goddess, convinced the pure skin would subdue him. Longing was wrapped in his stomach. The God of the Underworld ached to hold Persephone. xxx basically some sorta fluffy greek myth romance~!

word count: 3011

my ao3 for more shitposts

my inbox is open 4 requests~!

Persephone sat in the vibrant landscape. Soft petals grazed against her legs, spring afternoon sun hot against the deity's back. Persephone prayed for moments like this, her heart fluttering against her rib cage. Flowers engulfed her; a feeling the goddess basked in. A hum broke from Persephone’s lips as she delicately picked clusters of flowers. Petals laid across her forearms; earthen roots poked into elbows. She sighed, knowing mud would cake her. The goddess’ white linen trashed.

A rustle echoed behind the barefoot deity. The sound pierced through nature, it’s origin unnatural. Oxygen caught in her throat; lungs suspended in anticipation. A mortal? In spring? Excitement bubbled in her stomach. The buzz traveled through her spine. Never had Persephone encountered… a human.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Golden eyes observed her. Persephone; Goddess of Spring. A willowy frame draped in pristine white cloth. Curly hair decorated by an array of blossoms. A rainbow of hues. The stoic God of the Underworld felt a pang in his chest. His heart was on fire. Overhaul, God of the Underworld, was unable to break his gaze upon her. The beginnings of a blush ran through pale cheeks. Overhaul’s mouth felt dry. He struggled to compose himself; his heart still an erratic rhythm. Overhaul stumbled, mud covered feet slick against the earth.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

“Please come out,” A brave voice called. Persephone was mad with love for the concept of man. “I won’t hurt you.”

The God of the Underworld’s chest tightened. Overhaul overwhelmed with the deity’s voice. He gripped his scepter. His pulse hot in his ears, the thump almost unbearable.

He didn’t reply. Words lost to him.

Persephone stepped forward. Soft footprints on dewy ground. The Goddess of Spring’s resolve was infinite. “I have flowers.”

She sounded so innocent, so pure; her nature an exact juxtaposition to the Underworld. He wanted to hold her. The thought of sooten hands gripping velvet skin left Overhaul in a daze.

The air was still; spring sun now creeping into the shade. Persephone waited, the goddess’ form still knelt before flowers, their colors now memorized by her. A thrill edged into her mind. Idle hands trembled.

She waited. The feeling of being watched melted away, as did the afternoon sun.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Overhaul sat against the Mourning Fields. His head was heavy with visions of Persephone. The god sighed, a dull petal twisted between gloved fingers. Persephone weighed on him. She felt like a noose.

The idea hit him. It was simple. Easy.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

It had become routine for Overhaul to watch the goddess. Her movements reminded him of a ballerina. Soft and delicate. Hair made silk by the afternoon sun. Persephone’s cheeks would glisten with red from the sun’s warmth; the woman grateful for serenity and flowers.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

The God of the Underworld waited. Furor hidden within gilded eyes. His scepter poised at Persephone’s garden. A part of him hurt to do this. The god aware of her fate, earth would open beneath her, Persephone swallowed by the earth. His.

Muted footsteps peaked Overhaul’s interest. The sound signaling Persephone’s arrival. Persephone hummed, her gait cheerful.

Afternoon sun beat against her linen clad frame. An aroma of flowers met her. The beginning of her ritualistic flower picking. Persephone sat, knees burrowed into misty grass. She dreamed while pulling roots. The deity was careful with the divinity of flowers, petals too gentle for anything less.

A flash erupted behind her, a thunderous boom the only sound the goddess heard. The sound pierced her. A headache took shape. Moist ground gave underneath supple flesh. Persephone fell; a shrill gasp escaped her. Shock. She disappeared into the chasm. Overhaul’s thin lips curled into a coy smile. Hints of pink were splattered across pale cheeks. The god elated.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Persephone awoke from a deep slumber. Scraped knees throbbed. The landing had been harsh. Tender flesh no match for coarse rock. Fear snaked through her chest, choosing to rest against her heart. Pain from her chest now sharp. Long coils were tangled with dirt and flowers; Persephone no longer resembling the Goddess of Spring. She coughed, the musty earth clung to her lungs.

Anxious eyes glanced around. Darkness and earth encompassed the goddess. The air around her was moist and warm. Like a hug. Suffocating. The chasm felt small. Persephone’s outstretched arms reached earthen walls.

“Are you hurt?”

The voice was scratchy and muffled; the owner obviously not trapped with Persephone.

“I scraped my knees. It’s not bad,” the goddess replied, soil covered hands resting against bruised knees. A puddle of blood had begun to congeal underneath Persephone’s palms. Persephone tore off a shred of ruined linen. The previously white dress now stained with dirt and flecks of red. She tied the cloth around her knee. Blood and pain continued to leak through her knees. The goddess couldn’t summon strength to bandage the other knee; crimson streaked down a bare calve.

The voice didn’t reply. A silence stuck between them.

Persephone witnessed another brilliant flash. The earthen wall to her left was no more. A golden scepter occupied the space; its peak adorned with a yellow jewel. An intricate snake wrapped around the shaft, the scepter ending in a point. The shape was almost sinister to her.

“I’ve always wanted to meet a wizard!” Persephone exclaimed. A wizard was the only logical explanation. Simply a mortal man that accidentally shot the ground from her. The human was here to rescue her. A misunderstanding, she reasoned.

Overhaul flinched at her tone. The goddess’ voice shrill not even muffled by earth. She was ignorant of him. The God of the Underworld saw his opportunity. Without haste, he stepped into the crevice Persephone inhabited. A low, eerie green light followed behind.

Faded emerald engulfed them. Dried blood trained down a dirty knee. The other bled through tattered cloth. Pure skin caked in earth. The sight of Persephone should have repulsed him, her form a disaster of soil and bruises. In place of disgust, Overhaul’s throat tightened. Gilded eyes were glued to the Goddess of Spring. A wave of nostalgia flooded him. His heart beat in his ears.

A black gloved hand was offered to her. “I am Overhaul.”

Overhaul: God of the Underworld. The ghost of a frown was strung along her lips. Persephone’s heart thumped against her chest in anxiety. She had never encountered Overhaul. He owned the earthen domain, but was a recluse. The deity before her was not the form she expected. Persephone was convinced he possessed the head of a bull and the tail of a platypus. Overhaul’s domain commanded he shouldn’t be handsome. He stood proudly before her, his shoulders square and lean. Yellow eyes wide with interest. Shaggy auburn hair poked out from a black hood. The god was beautiful, she realized.

Persephone swallowed. Her throat refused to conjure saliva. Barren. The effect of this god. Persephone’s body was on fire. Every nerve burned while starved eyes devoured him. Overhaul.

She waved his hand away; the goddess confident she could stand.

Overhaul quietly scoffed. He withdrew his hand. The god stood awkwardly. Her presence left him flushed. A light pink dust spread from his nose and ended across his cheeks. This bundle of feelings was foreign to Overhaul. The God of the Underworld was logical. Cold. This deity infected him. Frantic heartbeats pumped through his ears.

The goddess found her voice.

“I’m sorry. Can you -- I don’t mean to be a bother, but how do I go back?” The words rushed from her. Her embarrassment now audible.

The cloaked god pointed to the ceiling.

“Up there?” Overhaul prayed she would stay; his heart determined to keep the deity. He wanted to feel the goddess, convinced the pure skin would subdue him. Longing was wrapped in his stomach. The God of the Underworld ached to hold Persephone.

“Y-yes. If we leave now, I might return by dusk,” the object of his affection said. Persephone’s eyes glowed with hope. An expression that softened Overhaul. He felt a pang in his chest. Cupid’s arrow tore through him.

He sighed. Rejection weighed against him. Overhaul’s heart now wilted and onyx. A god turned to stone.

“The Underworld is dangerous at night. Please, stay tonight and head out in the morning.”

The lie slipped easily from him. A deity with no qualms over white lies. He was desperate to keep Persephone, even if just for a night. Such beauty deserved the dignity of a bed. Clean clothes. Doctored knees. Overhaul flashed a grin. The expression went as soon as Persesphone saw it. A ghost.

She believed him.

“Okay… Thank you, Overhaul.”

His name sounded divine as it fled from her lips.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Persephone followed closely behind Overhaul. The god had explained it while cleaning her wounds; the Underworld was a twisting network of tunnels. There was no obvious light source. Vague shapes bathed in green hues. She squinted in the darkness. How could Overhaul possibly navigate? Barefeet padded against cold, smooth ground. Mud no longer a concern within his domain.

Overhaul would look behind him occasionally. Golden eyes hungry for Persephone. She looked so helpless. He wanted to clean her and smother the goddess in kisses. Let me touch you, please. Looking at her hurt, made him ache. Overhaul longed for Persephone.

The God of the Underworld stopped in front of a worn wooden door. Rusted hinges and splintered wood. A torch of emerald hung over the threshold.

The torch allowed Persephone to catch a glimpse of crimson across his cheeks. Overhaul gulped. Anxiety wrapped around his bones. A slight tremble overcame his voice.

“I hope this is… acceptable.” He didn’t know what to do with his hands, opting to fiddle with the hem of his cloak.

Curious orbs fixated upon him. He looks so cute like this. Persephone’s prolonged stare made Overhaul feel self conscious. The god now unsure of himself. Her eyes flicked to his lips, a light red and chapped. He looked divine.

She stepped forward.

“Thank you,” she replied. The air between the deities was tense. A sense of longing engulfed the two. “I apologize for the ruckus I caused.” Wilted petals fell as she bowed. Persephone now indebted to the deity.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

She had discarded the torn linen before bed. Tired body laid bare underneath the sheets. Persephone stretched, sleepy limbs slowly woke up. The bed was heaven. Fluffy padding against broken knees was euphoric. She shifted in bed. The goddess missed the budding morning sun. Rays of light would filter through her chambers. A promise of the afternoon sun.

Persephone inhaled deeply. The smell of moist earth nauseated her. She was grateful for Overhaul’s hospitality, even after he admitted to accidentally trapping her. He had been practicing to create rifts in the earth. An amphibious deity. Persephone admired this aspect of him. Despite his awkward nature, the deity was eloquent with words. The Goddess of Spring was enamored with his words last night. Overhaul had told her myths as a means of calming her as he cleaned her knees. She had clung to his words. Eyes wide with awe. Her expressions squeezed at Overhaul’s heart. The god now sure he was in love. The urge to smother her in kisses still twisted within him. A lovesick deity.

A knock pulled Persephone from her pinning.

“May I come in?” Overhaul meekly asked. The god convinced she possessed a glow.

Persephone yanked the sheets around her chin. “Yes.”

Bare feet slapped against the dirt floor as Overhaul approached her bed. He was right, even in the bizarre emerald light, Persephone still radiated. Perhaps, she was the sun. Overhaul looked at the goddess and noticed sheets suspiciously tucked into her. The realization hit Overhaul as he peeked at the ruined fabric across the room. He wanted to pick up the garment and inhale. Memorize her scent. Smother himself in it. Overhaul restrained himself, instead focusing on the feminine frame before him.

“Sleep well?”

Persephone giggled as she wiggled sleep from her body. “The best sleep I’ve had in years. Now, I don’t want to be a bother any longer. Let me change and then you can take me back, Overhaul.

There it was again, her voice honey as she said his name. The deity’s chest tightened. His heart threatened to pop from his rib cage.

“Persephone, you don’t have to leave immediately. Please, have breakfast with me first. It’s only polite,” he reasoned. Her name felt like syrup. Sweet and thick against his tongue. Overhaul did want to eat breakfast with her, the thought a common daytime fantasy. Persephone’s drowsy form was as he imagined; flowers tangled in long tendrils, small body hidden under blankets, face sleepy and pure.

While she had slept, Overhaul toiled in ancient texts. A god possessed. He knew Persephone wouldn’t stay. The lovesick deity felt his heart weaken. She was strangling him. Overhaul needed her. He knew the goddess would eventually accept him.

The goddess held his gaze. Overhaul was beautiful even in a dank hovel. Her fingertips itched to comb themselves through auburn hair. An image of opulence juxtaposed against the gloomy Underworld. Amber orbs pierced her heart; a slight rouge invading her face.

“I’d like that.”

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

The two deities were seated across a table decorated with intricate carvings. Persephone’s slender fingers traced the shapes. Even the cloak draped across her was elegant. She had never seen something so beautiful before. The Goddess of Spring’s world consisted of flowers and nature. Breakfast sat between them; two bowls of oatmeal and an array of fruits.

“Not hungry?” he asked. Overhaul wore a frown; the god crestfallen.

Gentle words interrupted Persephone. She had forgotten the cloaked figure. The beauty of his realm was intoxicating. Delicately crafted objects adorned the Underworld. Distinct artifacts against the earth.

Persephone smiled. A genuine thing that set Overhaul ablaze. “It’s just -- I’ve never seen something so beautiful.” Eager fingers rested atop the table. Her eyes glittered with awe and curiosity.

Overhaul hesitated. His fingers instead ghosted across Persephone’s wrist. He was dying to touch her. She must feel like flowers. He gulped down anxiety, the goddess now aware of his pining.

“Your hands are soft.”

He blinked. The plan came into focus again. The pomegranate.

“Th-thank you, but Persephone, you should really eat something,” Overhaul stated. This was his chance. Antique books had revealed to him the gateway to heaven. To her.

It was simple really. Proverbs told of the shackles pomegranate seeds granted. Juicy orbs that once consumed would bind to the Underworld. Adam’s apple. The seeds sat to her left; the god diligent to include them. Red beads kept in a plain, golden chalice.

He gestured to the cup. “Ever tried pomegranate? They taste like cranberries.”

Persephone glanced at the chalice. The fruit unlike anything she had encountered. Cautious hands reached for the bowl and took a glossy seed. She inspected the fruit. The seed was squishy between Persephone’s fingers. Juice ready to pop. Persephone squeezed the seed, amazed by the red liquid that gushed out. Coral now stained her fingertips. A surprised gasp left Persephone.

“I don’t like cranberries,” Persephone replied.

A comfortable silence fell over the two deities. Overhaul’s heart too broken for him to form words. Persephone too amazed by the Underworld to make idle conversation.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

The goddess was behind him; her breath hot against his neck. Persephone had reminded him she didn’t want to get lost, opting instead to become Overhaul’s shadow. A cloak too big for her collected dirt as it dragged. Her form dwarfed by the opulent fabric.

Suddenly, Overhaul stopped. Persephone came to a stop against his back. She felt so warm. Her soft body had no business staying with him. Such beauty deserved a landscape of flowers, not the dull and musty Underworld. Rejection and sorrow was a knife that pierced him.

“What is it, Overhaul?” Persephone asked, her tone basked in interest. The god before her was still a mystery… but within her was a desire to kiss him. To thank him for his hospitality. Overhaul was not the God of the Underworld. He was a saint.

Silence engulfed them. The god struggled to find his words. Despair stuck in his throat.

“Persephone,” he began, “do you… must you leave?” His tone was forlorn. A profound sadness. Stay. Please stay. Goosebumps sprang over Persephone’s arms. His misery had pricked her heart. A hole now forming.

“Spring is beautiful, don’t you think?” Persephone wanted to avoid the question. They both knew the answer. As much as she ached for him, Persephone understood a harsh truth: the coming of spring couldn’t halt for heartstrings.

He recognized what she was doing. His heart throbbed violently against his rib cage, the god no longer brave. Overhaul turned to her. Innocent eyes bore him, a sense of melancholy behind them. Please. Let me kiss away your sadness.

“That’s irrelevant.”

Persephone’s eyes flickered to the earthen ground. It hurt to look at something so beautiful. She blinked away tears. Grief caused the ground to blur. Spots of brown and dull blacks dotted her vision. “I… I can’t stay. But --”

A gentle hand cupped her face, the goddess now face to face with Overhaul. Persephone leaned into his caress. His fingers felt so soft and hot; the sensation almost comforting. Her heart beat against her chest. The organ threatened to leap from her.

“Promise -- promise me you’ll return, Persephone,” he begged. His voice quiet. A god defeated. Overhaul didn’t understand why Persephone felt so good against him. The ghost of a blush now apparent. His last chance.

Lovesick eyes flicked to his lips.

Persephone stood on tip-toes. The goddess now level with Overhaul. Amber eyes watched in anticipation. Breath caught in his windpipe. Please.

She looked pensive. Her brows furrowed together and she cupped his face. Her touch was electric. Every nerve in Overhaul’s body was ablaze. Persephone’s breath was hot against his face. Their bodies melted together.

Her lips quivered as she spoke.

“Can I kiss you if… if I return?”

#chisaki kai x reader #overhaul x reader #bnha #wholesome ig #deity!au #quirkless!au

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