#the back part of his hair?? unnecessarily hard for no reason other than me being stupid

[artheresy]

God I thought Blade’s hair was hard to draw with those like two layers of Anime Hair Vents

But Jing Yuan?s oh my GOD why is his hair like that, it’s so painful to try to draw and make sense of… JY my man, why are you making my life so hard

[darkestrellar]

LITTLE MUSE FACTS.

Fill out the questions about your muse, repost, tag as many people as you want.

Tagged by @jocundcompany! Pls steal & tag me if you want

What does your muse smell like? Ah my weakness questions 😔 I don't know. I think he smells like whatever ambient smells of the place he's been hanging out, and then kinda sweaty if he's been running around a lot haha.

How often does your muse bathe/shower? When he feels dirty he'll take a shower. I don't think he likes baths as much as showers. He's the kind of person who'll stand for 20 years under the running water just because it feels good. Probably has the heat up too high as well.

At least once or twice a week I guess... depends what he's up to...

Does your muse have any tattoos or piercings? No tattoos - Svern has no particular interest in them, and would rather avoid them for the possibility of being used as an identifying mark. I've toyed with the idea of him having his ears pierced, though! He likes to play around with accessories and stuff. He should be allowed to wear cute earrings.

Any body movement quirks (EX: tapping heel, shaking knee)? Svern mimics some fidgety behaviours, like bouncing on his toes, bouncing leg when sitting down, etc. Most of these are not natural though and are part of his conveying his false energy and enthusiasm.

What do they sleep in? Whatever he's currently wearing, more often than not. Alternatively, PJs top and bottom. Also he used to like to bury himself totally under the blanket/duvet as a kid. He still does, he just doesn't actually do it very often anymore due to reasons.

What’s their favorite piece of clothing? In his main and fandomless verse (although I often fail to include it in drawings) he wears a plain black choker with a piece of dark stone/erebosite featured on it. This is special because of the stone. Next, if they count as clothing, there's his familiar mop of auburn hair (of course actually a wig), and his amber contacts. He's partial to these and they've given him his main design/recognisable look.

When it comes to other more general items of clothing, I don't currently have any favourite pieces for him. He might have some (very possible actually), I just haven't chosen/designed them yet.

What do they do when they wake up? Opens his eyes. Gets up/out of his sleeping position. Goes about his business, whatever that may be. If he was sleeping somewhere especially comfortable, he might linger a bit, but he doesn't like staying stagnant with his thoughts too much, and his brain never really stops working as long as he's awake. (That's a big reason why he sleeps sporadically in the first place.)

How do they sleep? Position? Oh, Svern sleeping habits, they're a mess. He will sleep anywhere where he can fit his body. He'll sleep in almost any position, too. Here's a couple of posts about it: (1) (2)

He alternates between being a fairly light sleeper and being out of it when he's been awake for a long time. In most verses he has some hidden friend watching his back who can either wake him up or retaliate to any threats, so he's fairly relaxed about it.

Now, he doesn't do this unless he's either in a completely private location or somewhere he feels very comfortable, but his natural sleeping position is on his side and partly curled up. Often in that position he hides his face with his arm or by turning it to face downwards too.

What do their hands feel like? This question is like the smell one... they feel neither soft nor excessively rough. He uses them when climbing around all over the place, but he does avoid getting them unnecessarily torn up and doesn't do much other hard work with them.

[frogtanii]

tw. mentions / descriptions of a panic attack

bokuto was excited — more excited than he’d been in weeks!

he was finally getting the time to spend time with his beloved, his puppy, for the first time in forever thanks to the recent onslaught of drama the house had been embroiled in.

he figured he should thank you for bringing it all on because now, as he stood in front of meiko’s room, he had a chance.

“puppy!” bokuto called out, knocking on her door enthusiastically. after a moment of muttering, shuffling around and a loud curse, the door opened up just a crack to reveal meiko clad in only a thin bedsheet with her thin lips wrapped around a cigarette.

kotarou peered over her head and into her room where he spotted a quick flash of dark brown hair before meiko stepped out and closed the door behind her.

“who was that?” he questioned innocently, assuming that it was one of the other housemates. meiko narrowed her eyes at him and blew out a puff of smoke.

“what do you want bokuto.” her voice was steely and cold, nothing like her usual peppy self. still, bokuto couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was in there who shouldn’t be.

“you know,” kotarou began hesitantly, studying her face for reactions. “iwaizumi doesn’t like anyone in here who hasn’t signed a contract. and also you’re not allowed to smoke.” his nose turned up at the smell, disgust for the cigarette written clear on his face.

meiko rolled her eyes at him before taking another drag and blowing the smoke out straight into his face. bokuto tried to hold his breath for as long as he could but his lung capacity wasn’t so great. i need to work on that, he thought as he heaved and choked on the smoke circling down into his chest.

the love of his life adjusted her sheet covering before dropping the cigarette to the ground and stomping it out with the end of the blanket. “i asked you a question bokuto. what the fuck do you want?”

the harshness in her tone made him pause. was what he was here for actually important? or would it just bother her unnecessarily?

no, he resolved. bokuto missed her and he wanted to spend time with his kinda-but-not-really-girlfriend! especially after he waited all this time!

“i, i wanted to spend time with you...” with every word, his hesitance grew until he was muttering, the look in meiko’s eyes sending chills down his spine.

“no,” she said and turned back to enter her room. “wait!” bokuto’s hand shot out to grab her arm, very gently pulling her closer to him. “please,” he whispered, tears beginning to rim his wide, golden eyes.

meiko stared back up at him with absolute rage in her eyes as she snatched her limb out of his hold. “listen to me right now bokuto, and listen well,” she sneered, taking a step back towards her bedroom. “i have never liked you. you’re so fucking childish and clingy and annoying! i literally cannot understand how anyone cares to hang around you.”

bokuto felt something inside him shatter at her words, a sharp gasp escaping his parted lips. “but-“ “no buts! you are fucking nothing to me! all you were was a warm body to sleep with but you weren’t even good for that,” meiko’s chest heaved as she finished speaking, her dark eyes trained on the tear tracks on bokuto’s cheeks.

gently, he lifted a hand to his face, barely registering the water that covered them, his mind desperately trying to understand what had just occurred. in the back of his head, he briefly noticed the sound of a door closing and muffled giggling but it was covered by the sound of blood rushing in his ears.

how... could she? he loved her and she, she only wanted to fuck him? he poured out his entire heart, his very soul to her and for what? for her to take it and stomp on it until there was nothing left?

bokuto’s chest felt heavy — he wasn’t breathing. quickly, he took one breath, and then another and another and another until he was collapsed on the ground, heaving for air as he sobbed.

why him? what had he done to deserve this? maybe it was karma — he’d let a plastic bag float by him into a stream when he was 7 even though he knew littering was wrong. maybe it was because he didn’t kiss his mother goodbye the last time he saw her. or maybe the universe was punishing him for everything he’d done to you.

oh, you — the person who meiko had tried so hard to convince him to hate, and he had! his beloved had no reason to lie to him, or at least that’s what he believed until this moment. she lied to him about loving and caring about him so why wouldn’t she lie about everything else?

bokuto’s head was pounding as he tried to rationalize where he’d gone wrong, his usually bright eyes, dull and trained on the ceiling as he attempted to regain his breathing.

it felt like his whole world was collapsing on itself like a fallen star, just waiting to implode and destroy everyone and everything until there was nothing left and—

“hey, look at me, you’re ok,” a soft voice rang out over the buzzing in his head, his eyes beginning to focus on... your figure.

what were you doing here? he so desperately wanted to ask but the words were caught in his throat, trapped behind a wall of despair and anguish.

“don’t try to talk ok? just focus on my breathing, try and match it. i’m going to touch you now.” your soft, small (so much smaller — were you eating enough?) hand wrapped around his own and brought it up to your chest where he could feel the steady rise and fall of your breathing.

bokuto’s breath was shaky and definitely not as smooth as your own, but you didn’t seem to mind, instead holding his hand to your heart until his breathing became level and even.

he must’ve knocked out because by the time he came to, the hall was dark and you were gone, the only memory of you being a box of tissues and a glass of water on the ground next to him.

he reached for the glass first, chugging the whole thing down in only a few seconds. all that crying must have dehydrated him immensely, he realized as he searched for another cup.

standing on shaky legs, bokuto attempted to maneuver to the kitchen, holding onto the walls for stability as he crept through the dark corridors.

he quickly filled up his favorite owl mug (a gift from she-who-will-not-be-named) with water once he made it to the kitchen, extra careful not to make a lot of noise just in case someone was asleep.

bokuto swiftly gulped down his water, placing the cup in the sink where he knew it would not remain because if anything was sure, it was the clean state of the house that meiko kept.

ugh meiko. the whole situation hurt to think about so he didn’t, instead choosing to bury it in the deep recesses of his mind, never to be seen again.

as bokuto trudged upstairs back to his bedroom, he noticed the big black trash bag sat at the end of the hall near daichi’s room. he debated on taking it out himself but was ultimately convinced not to.

it’ll be gone tomorrow, he reasoned as he slipped into his room and bed before quickly falling asleep.

...

it was not gone the next day. neither was the cup in the sink, or the hair on the floor in the bathroom, or the laundry strewn all over the living room.

the whole house seemed to be in shambles and it remained that way for the entirety of the week. meiko was nowhere to be seen, flitting in and out of the house at random, escaping to only god knows where with god knows who.

bokuto didn’t care anymore. she ruined his life so why should he give a half of a shit where she was? what he did care about, on the other hand, was figuring what to do about you.

he wanted to thank you and apologize but he wasn’t sure how to do so! he knew he said some horrible things to you and was determined to make it right — not just for you but for himself too.

℗ poker face

shattered

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - ok writing this genuinely made me cry???? bokuto is my comfort character so making him go through this i just </3 i hope it came across ok? it’s literally 1 am so there may v well be typos and massive mistakes but i hope u guys enjoy this miserably sad chapter LMAO don’t forget to feed me <3

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @sazunari • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @amberalisa • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @ris-illustration • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @babierin • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[deleteddewewted]

Hey comadre! I saw you asked for a fluff request, and I came to deliver 💜 I think you might be intrigued by the idea!

Shinsou who has been bullied his whole life, with the bullying growing harsher his middle school years. When he begins his high school life in UA, he remains distant, not allowing himself for others to get close to him, and for them to hurt him, because he has developed that trauma. He then successfully transfers over to the Hero Course, and his seat partner is the chubby/curvy girl of the class. She is friendly and welcoming towards him, but he remains to give her the cold shoulder, although he saw her intentions genuine, but he still keeps his guard up. She then goes and sits with him during lunch, her explaining that she understands why he gives off the cold shoulder to his peers. She explains she has underwent being bullied herself, by her weight and such. She tells him that as time passed, she learned to love and accept herself for who she is, and offers to help Shinsou in a similar manner. To help him learn to trust people and she asks if he puked accept her as a friend. He accepts and their friendship grows, with him starting to develop feelings for her, and wants to spend more time with the person who saved him from his own troubles 💗

My heart and soul needed this, thank you comadre!💜

(I may or may not have used some of my personal experience being body shamed in here so....yeah, thats your heads up.)

Misery and Company

Emo/Himbo Shinsou x F! Reader (Reverse Comfort)

TW: Mentions of bullying, Mentions of Body Shaming, Leading on

He remembered the constant laughter that was present in his life. Everyone would assumed it was a great childhood but to him, to someone like him, it was never the paradise that it was thought to be. The laughter was at him not with him. Kids pointed their fingers towards him and blamed him for all of the problems that would happen throughout the school day.

“I didn’t do it!” As a child, he didn’t know any better. He assumed that he could scream and yell like every other kid and be listened to. He found out quickly that he didn’t get that right. The teacher quickly told him off and called his parents. They came to pick him up from school and started to ask all kinds of questions. Did your quirk go off? Why did you do it? Is it that hard to listen? He didn’t bother to try to make connections after that. Friends were a waste of time. A liability. An opportunity to suffer unnecessarily.

When Shinsou reached middle school he suffered from the increase of villain comments. His quirk became the center of attention, it didn’t matter if he had good grades or was nice to people. His quirk was the focus, always was.

“You can get away with everything you want!” He’s heard that one about a million times already. It always managed to irritate him how much people cared about what he did with it. He hated the eyes. The voices. It only made his internal monologue become aggressive with himself. The constant reminder that he was less than the others for being born with a quirk that used people. It made him want to scream his head off.

“Yeah, I’m aware. Um, can we stop talking about it now?” He wasn’t a pushover but he knew that he could just say what he wanted. He purposefully asked a question to get the other student to stop talking without using his quirk. The last tithing he wanted was for someone to accuse him of using his quirk on them.

That night, Shinsou worked on his homework at his desk. His parents were away on a work trip so he had the entire house to himself. He looked at the time and groaned when he realized it was already one in the morning. He walked into his bathrooms and looked for his toothbrush. When he looked up at the mirror, ready to brush his teeth, he couldn’t help and stare at himself. His eyes held bags under them, dark and heavy as if he hadn’t slept in days. The faint smudging of the eyeliner he put on only making his eyes look even worse. He was tired and alone. His parents weren’t there to comfort him and with his quirk making it difficult to connect with others, he had no one to speak with other than himself. He dropped his hand down and just stared at his reflection. The image became hazy as he continued to stare back at it.

His face felt warm. He couldn’t stop the river that flowed down his face. He didn’t ask for his quirk, he also didn’t ask to be born. Shinsou couldn’t stop the rattling within his chest nor the stuttered gasps as he tried to breathe. He looked up at his reflection again, this time noticing the red and swollen eyes that belong to him. That night, Shinsou laid down to sleep on top of the covers and stared blindly at the uncovered window. He vowed to never become attached again. Not to classmates, not to family, and definitely not any possible friends.

Going to UA was a dream come true for him, the ability to be closer to your heroic dreams was closer than ever, but not for him. Shinsou had to watch as the heor course students acted like entitled brats, everyone in the school bowing to them like they were some great thing. He hated watching them boast, hated everything about them, to be honest. He wanted nothing to do with them, so why did they want something to do with him?

“Uh, sorry but I was wondering if you’d like to sign this petition?” Shinsou looked up from the book he was reading and stared straight towards the holder of the voice. It was a short chubby girl with a clipboard in her hands. She looked at him expectantly, waiting for his answer to her question.

“No thanks.”

“It’s for a local shelter, it’ll help abused and abandoned pets find a good home-” Shinsou wanted to be left alone. He sighed out loud and closed his book while rubbing his eyes, the eyeliner smudging.

“I said no. Now leave me alone.” Shinsou watched as the girl flinched at his annoyed voice.

“S-sorry, I’ll just leave you alone.” She quickly walked away from him, nearly entering a jog as she left him behind. Shinsou couldn’t help but become disappointed with himself. The girl was being nice to him and he snapped at her. She wasn’t even benign annoying, he just felt tired. He could hear how some people around him mumbled about the exchange he packed his things up and left towards his class.

He did see the girl again from time to time. He found out she was in the hero course and that she was in the A class as well. He would spot her on occasion but he did interact with her during his hero course admissions test. She wore her hero costume with pride and honestly, he had to look away for a moment, she looked like power itself. He couldn’t help feel intimidated in her presence. She didn’t come up to him yet so he had to come up to her. He intended on apologizing for his behavior a few months back, he didn’t mean to snap at her and he never found the opportunity to do so.

You watched as the indigo-haired boy awkwardly made his way towards your group. He wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes but instead focused on the floor below him.

“Hi, I’m Shinsou Hitoshi.” He extended his hand out to you but you just stared at him like he grew a second head. He felt awkward again, he was expecting you to at least call him a dick but the silence made his stomach become tight.

“Nice to meet you Shinsou, I’m L/n Y/n.” You felt bad for being quiet for too long, you couldn’t help it. He was really pretty to look at especially since he wore eyeliner that sharpened the appearance of his eyes.

“Oh, uh yeah. I um, wanted to apologize for my attitude a while back. It was rude of me and uhh, I know that saying I was in a mood isn’t a good excuse but-”

“It’s fine, I get it. I can be annoying so it’s ok.” You gave him a bright smile and a clap on the back of his shoulder.

He tensed when he felt the heat of your hand on him, he couldn’t help but lean slightly into it. His ears reddened and not wanting to embarrass himself more than he did already, he quickly pulled his mask up to cover his ears and face.

“No- yeah- I mean no, you- you weren’t annoying, I was just in a mood and it accidentally let it out on you. Sorry about that.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at you briefly. You just smiled at him again and got closer to his person.

“Hey, do you mind if i-” You grabbed the bottom part of his mask and pulled it down slightly, your face closer than ever before to his own. He stopped breathing as you got closer, he couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about his breath. He smelled like coffee and for some reason, it made him feel embarrassed if you were to found out about his dependency of it.

You reached out with your pinky and brushed some of the black flakes of his eyeliner away from his upper cheek. You blended the smudged eyeliner on the bottom of his eye out and pulled his mask up again to cover his face.

“There! Just wanted to clean up your makeup. It’s really well done, by the way, wish I could do my own eyeliner as clean as your own. Do you wear eyeshadow on the bottom lid or is it just eyeliner with you?” You weren’t mocking him for his dressing and styling choices, many of his old classmates did.

He told you about what products he uses and yes, he did use eyeshadow for his bottom lid. You just smiled at him and occasionally added what you used. He enjoyed talking to you, you were nice to him and allowed him to speak his mind. He couldn’t help but want to know more about you. Unfortunately, your conversation had to come to an end since his group was the first one up, but you both agreed to talk after all matches were over.

His second year at UA was better but he still felt awkward around everyone. Everyone, discluding Bakugou, was nice to him. You especially made it your duty to be around him all the time. He enjoyed your company but he found himself still pushing away from him at times. The constant lingering feeling of possible betrayal being prominent in all of your interactions. It didn’t matter how many times you helped him do his makeup or how many times he did your own, didn’t matter if he showed you his favorite video games to play, nor if he introduced you to his parents and had you in his room playing those same games with him for hours. He was still nervous, paranoid that you’ll stab him in the back. Scared that you’ll turn around and show your true colors. That you’ll take everything you know about him and tell everyone so you could all mock him again.

Shinsou, due to his fears, started to pull away from you. No more hanging out with him, no more doing each other’s makeup, no more eating lunch together. Shinsou ignored you every time you tried to speak with him, always turning himself away from you or being rude in some manner. It did discourage you at times, made you feel like you were back in middle school with the cute guys in your grade only speaking with you to make fun of your interests afterward. You thought that maybe he was going to be different but you guessed not. You kept away from him as you processed the situation but that also gave you the chance to watch him. You noticed that instead of sitting with your guy’s other classmates he would op to sit on his own within the cafeteria at a faraway table or somewhere else. You noticed that he not only avoided you but the rest of your classmates. He was back to how he was in his first year.

You couldn’t keep watching him be alone again, you didn’t want to leave him alone. You made up your mind and made your way towards Shinsou. He was sitting outside of the cafeteria eating his lunch while reading a book that was placed on his lap. He looked tense as he continued to read and nervous at any sound that made itself known. You felt bad for him, from what he told you about his own school experience, more of the lack of, you assumed that he was bullied for his quirk. He never used it on you and he never spoke much about it. He never gave you any details and never told you how his quirk activities, he just avoided the conversation entirely but he was always excited to listen to your own though.

“Shinsou.” You watched as the male jumped in his spot on the floor and direct himself towards you.

“Shinsou, can we talk for a bit?” He averted his eyes and began to pick his things from the floor, shaking his head as he did.

“N-no, sorry. I have to go-” You got in his way and crouched down to meet him at eye level.

“I know you have nowhere to be at. Please, talk to me for a bit.” You placed your hand on his own and stared at him. Shinsou didn’t want to meet your eyes. He didn’t want to see the disgust in them or the hatred you felt for him.

What he didn’t expect was for you to place your hand on his cheek and gently guide his gaze to your own. His eyes were wide and watery, he didn’t understand why you were being so gentle, so kind with him. Didn’t you want to be angry with him? Your own eyes were soft, a small smile present on your face.

“Shinsou, what’s wrong?” Your voice was gentle and your touch never leaving him. He took in a breath and spilled everything and all of his troubles to you. Once he finished, he was welcomed by a hug.

You pulled him into your own body and shared your warmth with him. You gently brushed his wild hair as you allowed him to cry to his heart’s content. He needed someone to listen to him, someone who would just let him talk. You were that person for him. Once he felt better, he pulled away from your person and rubbed his eyes. His eyeliner was running and smudging severely on his face. He pouted slightly at his destroyed makeup but then looked at your uniform. You had black smears all over your jacket and shirt.

“I-i’m sorry L/n. I didn’t mean to ruin your uniform.” You just chuckled and shook your head at him.

“It’s fine Shinsou, you needed to let it all out.” He began to take deeper breaths and eventually sat next to you. His head gently laying on top of your own.

“It… it was frustrating you know? I thought that I was the problem and I still feel like I am at times.”

“I get what you mean, I also had to deal with bullies.” Shinsou lifted his head and looked at you confused. You had to deal with bullies? Why? You were nice to everyone, why would anyone want to hurt you?

“I think it’s obvious as to why Shinsou.” Shit, did he say that out loud?

“Yes, you did.” You gave him another smile and took his hand. You compared him to your own. Your hand was smaller than his own but it was rounder, chubbier, just like the rest of you. You found it adorable how different the both of you were.

“I’m overweight, man. People tend to hold a preconceived idea of what overweight people are like.” Shinsou still couldn’t understand.

“So?  Why would anyone bully you for something you don’t have all that much control over?”

“Because they’re mean. It’s a power trip for them.” You began to play with his fingers, taking note of the muscles that you weren’t aware existed within them.

“I used to have a crush on this guy and for the longest time, my classmates made fun of me because of it. They always said that I was too fat for him or that id hurt him if I leaned onto him. Typical mean comments about my appearance and how I was unloved.” Shinsou began to frown and got closer to you. His body heat becoming a welcoming presence to you as you recounted your own struggles.

“Then one day he asked me to hang out with him. We ate lunch together and we spent time together. I thought he was interested in me just like I was interested in him. He once got close to my face and made it look like he was about to kiss me before reaching for something behind me. We laughed it off as an accident but I noticed the small blush on his face. I was excited.” You pressed on each of his fingernails and wiggled his fingers in between your pointer and thumb.

“I thought that this was it, he liked me back. Our school dance came and everyone was asking out their dates for it. I thought he was going to ask me to go with him but that didn’t happen. He pulled me towards him in the middle of class with everyone watching us, a lot of the other girls were jealous of me because of it.” You noticed the chipped nails polished on his nails and began to scratch it off.

“He cupped my face and pulled me closer to him. We were going to kiss.” You stopped playing with Shinsous hand. Your hand falling onto the ground limply.

“He gripped my face and pushed me away saying “Did you really think id like you? You’re such a joke L/n.” ” You pulled away from Shinsou, your hand rested on your lap instead of anywhere near his.

“I felt so alone, so gross, so….fat. It hurt but it was made worse because it was in front of everyone. Everyone saw how he treated me and made fun of me. No one did anything, not even as I ran away crying. Instead, I got comments about my weight. I got called some really mean names that day and the following. I didn’t go to my school’s dance, I didn’t want to be made fun of again.” You didn’t hear a thing from Shinsou. He just sat there looking at you like you were crazy.

“Their assholes.”

“I know.” You looked at him and smiled. He came closer to you, grabbing your hand from your lap and interlacing them in one another.

“But I don’t feel like that anymore. I don’t care is a better way to phrase it. People can have their opinions, either nice or mean. I can’t dictate that.” Shinsou scooted closer to you as you continued talking.

“But I can dictate the way I think about myself and the people I want to be around me.” Shinsou couldn’t help himself anymore.

He leaned in towards you and placed his hand on your cheek. His lips gently pressing onto your own and unmoving. You felt your heart fluttered but it quickly turned to amusement. He just pressed his lips to yours and wasn’t moving, He wasn’t moving. He had his eyes closed and pressed into you, it was beginning to bruise your lips. You pulled back slightly and looked at his face. He had his lips still puckered and his eyes closed. You giggled and quickly kissed him again before he pulled away. You on the other hand did move and deepened the kiss.

Shinsous heart soured as you kissed him back, his lips no longer hurting but feeling gently caressed by your own. He couldn’t help the small gasps that escape him nor the way he pulled you closer to him. When the two of you parted, Shinsou looked at you with sleepy eyes. He wanted this and he wanted more.

“I like you L/n.”

“I like you too Shinsou.”

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Draw your swords, pt.9

Summary: Darkling’s secrets are soon to be unveiled, just in time for a trip to the Fold.

Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of alcohol, implied sexual content

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five // Part six // Part seven // Part eight  

=================================

The Darkling walked with a spring in his step. Residents of Little Palace have gotten used to his skulking in black keftas he wore like second skin. Never before had they seen him smile as much as he did on this particular day – as if he found the secret to happiness.

In truth, the Darkling refused to let himself hope for much. He simply hoped she’d allow him to kiss her now without receiving a death threat for it. It felt incredibly dangerous how foolishly addicted he is to his fickle wife. He never wanted anyone as much as he wanted her.

“General”, Fedyor joined him on his right, while Ivan silently took his left side. They both kept a reasonable distance from Kirigan, two steps behind at all times.

“What reason did you have to knock on my door this morning?” Kirigan’s voice is leveled, but his words are a death trap. There’s nothing more the general hates than his Grisha interrupting his private time – regardless if Y/N is with him or not. Unless there’s a burning issue at hand, he disliked being bothered unnecessarily.

“We’ve intercepted a few interesting stories you might like”, Ivan responds calmly, unafraid of his temperamental general. After all the years they’ve known each other, Ivan could read Kirigan’s mood easily. Despite his discontent, Kirigan is chipper for the first time in a long time. In fact, Ivan can’t even remember the last time his general was this happy...or happy at all.

“What kind?” Darkling asked, but his attention was undeniably divided as he caught sight of Y/N. 

She walked across the hallway with a purpose – determined to raise hell and he found it incredibly sexy. She paused for a moment, her gaze meeting his briefly. When she pursed her lips, his twitched at the corners – a smile starting to form.

“Sun Summoner kind”, Fedyor spoke in a hushed voice.

Kirigan’s smile falters, his eyes leaving Y/N’s. “Follow me”, he barked on order before walking in the opposite direction. 

All his life, the Darkling had been searching for the Sun Summoner. Every whisper of their existence turned out to be nothing but a fabrication, but something felt different now.

Once inside the map room, he leaned with his palms on the table. Kirigan didn’t say anything for a moment or ask for more information, but then his mouth moved on their own accord.

“Is it true?”

Glancing at each other, Ivan and Fedyor silently argued who should deliver the news.

“I asked you a question”, the general growled out, looking at them over his shoulder and the intensity of his glare had erased his earlier happiness.

“Nothing is confirmed yet, but we have quite a lot of accounts from the people surrounding the forest.” Ivan replied.

The Darkling made a sort of a grunting noise that Ivan didn’t know what to make of. The shadows covered the windows swiftly, engulfing the room in darkness as his left eye narrowed ever so slightly.

“The forest?”

Fedyor clears his throat, “Near the border.”

“Near the fold”, Ivan adds.

“I want”, he paused. Running his fingers through his hair, his shadows killed every source of outside light. “We need to prepare for a trip to the armies stationed at the fold.”

Nodding, Ivan looked to Fedyor and his deep-set frown.

“Are we to cross?” Fedyor asks.

The Darkling’s face is stone, his eyes unblinking. “Would it be a problem for you?”

Breath caught in his throat, Fedyor’s heart started to race. “No.”

“Good”, Kirigan remarked. “Prepare everything for departure in no more than a week.”

Sending them off, the Darkling sat in his chair. He wants so many things. His fingers graze his chin as he sighs – there would be no leaving without Y/N following. It’s not in her nature to do nothing and if she learns of the reasons behind his departure, he might lose her. The path of less resistance is to convince her the trip is to prove he’s honored his promise to her. He had sent the instructions yesterday and while she did force his hand on it, he didn’t hate her for it. If he’s bound for hell, at least it’s not a false one. She hates him, but she’s honest with him. He appreciated that.

Finding the Sun Summoner will change everything – for once, he will have a partner who can understand the weight of his past choices. He regrets too many things he’s done, but he was rarely given a choice. They broke the wrong parts of him, in the end, he showed them what happens when they laid a hand on those he cares for. That included Y/N now. If anything, she was a priority. Y/N is the only one he has left in this world.

While the Darkling pondered on the possibility of a Sun Summoner being true, Y/N sat in the library with a pile of books at each side.

The lingering effect of Aleksander’s gaze upon her and his devilish smirk had warmed her up in a way she least expected. For a moment, she couldn’t tell if time stopped or her heart did.

Shaking her head, she flipped the page in frustration. Her skin still burned bright from where he touched her. No amount of bathing can erase the fact she belonged to him now.

Swallowing thickly, she groaned. In all the books she had found, barely few had any information on the shadow summoner. Aside from Morozova creatures that serve as amplifiers, Y/N found mere mentions of a black heretic and the creation of the fold.

Her neck hurt, her eyes felt like they’re being pierced with needles and there was no saving her mind from all the theories she concocted. Leaning back in her chair, she huffed. Rubbing her eyes, she slammed the book closed before standing in frustration.

She didn’t want to love Aleksander, to risk her heart and life. She didn’t want to lay in bed, always afraid of what he might do if one day she’s not careful enough and he learns the truth. Naively, she hoped he’d either stand with her or just walk away but that’s not the Kirigan she knows. He wouldn’t forgive, it’s not in his nature.

Placing the books where she can find them in the morning, she headed to her room. Genya was kind enough to send a servant with lunch, but Y/N missed dinner entirely. Engrossed in books all day, she hardly felt any hunger.

At least not the kind of hunger food could satisfy.

Walking into the room, she hadn’t expected to find Aleksander sat at the bottom of their bed….shirtless.

Standing, he narrowed his eyes at her. “You weren’t at dinner.”

She raised a brow, “Wasn’t hungry.”

Kirigan crossed his arms over his bare chest, the movement making the muscles in his stomach flicker.

“Get dressed”, she quipped.

He smiled, “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

“I’m surprised you don’t have a mirror in every corner of this Palace, since you love yourself so much.”

He laughed wholeheartedly as she just turned away, clamping a hand over her mouth. She couldn’t let herself laugh with him. Every moment like this feels like the world is spinning, making her resolution fragile. She’s aching to let him in, but it would be a mistake. She feels it in his bones, he’s not honest with her.

Caring for a man like him is dangerous, like standing in the eye of a hurricane.

“We’ll leave Little Palace in a week”, Aleksander speaks, “Just as you asked of me.”

She stares at him, disbelief and joy colliding. And it’s the look in his eyes, the hopeful, terrified look in those dark skies that disarms her.

“Why do I feel like there’s a catch?”

Running the tip of his tongue along his lower lip, Aleksander takes a step closer. “You’ll ride with me.”

Pursing her lips, she nods without ever breaking eye contact. “And?”

A breathless chuckle passes his lips, “You’ll have to wear a special kefta. One that won’t let you get hurt easily.”

Taking a deep breath, she tilts her head up, “And?”

Suppressing a smile, he raises an eyebrow. “You’ll be equipped with a weapon of choice. I believe you’re more than familiar with guns as a soldier of the First army.”

Raising both eyebrows in response, she takes a step closer to him. “Swords”, she notes.

Humming, his eyes widen ever so slightly as he waits for her to continue.

“I prefer swords”, she touched his face gently with the back of her hand.

“Of course”, he breathes out. A soft smile spreads across his lips, “Draw your swords if you see an enemy in sight.”

“Even if it’s my husband?” Her lips remain parted, her eyes flickering to his chest where she raised her hand to.

“I don’t care, as long as you keep yourself safe.”

She held her breath as his words resonated with her mind. How can he be so callous one day and then offer up his life for her to take. No game had ever made her question every single word that left someone’s lips before. Sometimes she’d look at him and see through the mask he shows the world and other times she couldn’t see anything other than her own reflection in his eyes as if his soul didn’t exist at all.

“Since when do you care?” She frowns, gnawing on the inside of her cheek.

Letting out a heavy sigh, his eyes flicker to the hand she splayed against his bare chest. Just the simple touch of her hand made him want more. It was becoming too hard to pretend he hates her. What he truly hates is how human she is – what is he supposed to do when her hair turns grey and he’s still young? How will he survive when someone takes her to exact vengeance against him? Will he be too late to save her then?

When your world comes to a stop and the value of life is amplified by those dead before their time in gruesome ways, it feels like an earthquake shakes the very foundations life is built on. But when the walls start falling, past and future no longer exist, only the moment you’re in and the first person that comes to mind when those walls are gone is what your life is all about. For Aleksander, that person is Y/N.

Looking into her eyes, his hands cup her face, “Since I had to spend five days believing you’re dead.”

He wanted to wrap Y/N in his arms and tell her he would never let her walk away, not after he had a taste of what it means to be with her. He wanted to tell her his love is unconditional and that his soul is hers, even if she didn’t want to give him hers. He would wait, as patiently and as stubbornly as he did by now and that she will never lose him because even if he wished, he can’t scrub his heart clean of her. And he never wanted to.

“I thought you’d protect me?” She raised an eyebrow, teasing him.

She had become his heart, his reason to live. She lit a fire within, something he had lost over time and while she’s completely unaware of it, if the world tried to take her from him, the Darkling would wage war to make sure she remains by his side.

Blinking slow, a faint smile upon his lips, the Darkling tilts his head slightly to the left. “Would you allow it?”

There is nothing in the world he wanted more than to kiss her again, but this time around Aleksander decided to let her make the move. She is tender, but fierce. To understand a woman like her, one must realize that the former is who she is and the latter is what life demanded of her.

“Not likely”, she remarks and he throws his head back, chuckling.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she wets her lips in thought and he can’t help but think this is a well-designed trap for him to say the wrong thing and for her to use it as excuse to put distance between them rather than face her own desires and he was almost certain those desires included him.

“You want me”, he whispers in her ear as his fingertips slide up her spine and to the back of her neck, “And it’s killing you.”

“Physical attraction means nothing”, her voice is low, but unwavering.

Aleksander bites the inside of his lower lip in anticipation of her pushing him away and storming off, but even as he waits, he feels her hips press closer to him as if she’s telling him he won’t be left alone. Not again.

“Yet you’re here”, he grins. Tucking her hair behind her left ear, he admired how firm she stands in her opposition.

“So are you”, she quipped,. 

A cocky smile appears on his lips, tiny wrinkles forming around his dark eyes as he holds her gaze bravely, unwavering even when her gaze becomes a glare.

Biting her lower lip, contemplating the right move, Y/N could hardly fight her desire for him. Her head knew he it would be unwise, but her heart screamed at her to kiss him and those butterflies in her stomach felt more like killer bees as the need to feel him inside her had taken over every rational thought she generated.

One hand caressing his lean cheek, she gave into her primal instincts as she slammed her lips against his and Aleksander’s own heart leapt inside his chest. 

Their need for each other was urgent. Y/N grabbed a handful of flesh and muscle on Aleksander’s back. He gasped and laughed throatily at her haste. When her hands clawed at him again, he grasped both hands in one of his and held them over her head. She struggled to free herself, but he was too strong. When he entered her, she gasped, then moved her hips up to meet his.

He released her hands and she pulled him closer and closer to her. They made love quickly, almost harshly, before they found the sweet release they longed for. Aleksander collapsed on top of her, their bodies still joined as one when their minds gave in, slowly drifting to sleep.

Just like the previous morning, he remained in the bed, his arms wrapped around her tightly. 

She barely saw him during the day as the week progressed, but their nights were spent together – entangled mess of limbs, desperate moans and needy pleas neither held back. She’d close her eyes in his embrace and begin her day the same way.

“You don’t have much time”, Genya warned as Y/N dressed in haste. She decided to dress for the trip, it was the only way she could fit in a few hours in the library.

“I won’t be long”, she smiled at her friend.

Licking her lips, Genya took her by the hand. “What is it that you’re looking for?”

Y/N clenched her teeth, wondering if she should tell Genya. Something inside her warned against it – she didn’t tell anyone his name is Aleksander, feeling privileged to know such information. If she’s wrong and she can trust him, she didn’t want to poison anyone else with her doubt beforehand. A single book remained unread on her pile of very thick books she went through.

“Just trying to learn”, Y/N shrugged.

Nodding, Genya smiles, “In case we don’t see each other before you leave, I have to implore you to reconsider David as an ally.”

“I will”, Y/N promised and she would. Someone in Aleksander’s inner circle could be of use to her.

Going through the pages, she felt exhausted. Spending all her time in ancient books didn’t seem to be of use, but for once the text made sense. It spoke of the black heretic and the many names he’s been called in history.

“He walks the earth with a power only the saints could possess. They call him The Black Heretic, The Shadow King, The Starless Saint, Staski, Eryk, Leonid – numerous names that he exchanged for each lifetime he was given and by now it must be at least a few hundred lifetimes of darkness. His name – true name was lost throughout the centuries, occasionally heard as a whisper carried in the wind.”

Wide eyed, she read through the text of a scholar who described the Black Heretic and his powers, his entire lineage being his mother who remained unnamed and…him.

“He has no descendants?” Y/N’s lips quiver. If he has no descendants and his line begins and ends with him, how would Aleksander even exist?

Unless…

No.

It would be impossible, would it not?

“Numerous names that he exchanged for each lifetime he was given”, she reads aloud only to cover her own mouth in face of a startling epiphany. It was as she noticed the dark connection between the great mystery, the horrific realization set in.

“Pardon me, miss, but General Kirigan has sent for you”, a servant frightened her.

Taking the book in haste, Y/N stood on her shaky legs. Mouth dry, she pressed her lips in a thin line.

“Thank you”, she walked out so quickly, barely containing her quick and shallow breaths. Sweating profusely, she felt as if the black kefta she wore weighed down on her like battle armor.

Was it not her armor? Was this not a constant war she’s struggled with?

Aleksander…Kirigan…The Darkling…who is he?

“Are you ready?” Aleksander is waiting by the door with a small smile on his lips. His hand is opened for her to take, but she ignores it. If she took his hand, he’d feel the shakiness she’s trying so hard to steady.

Mounting his black stallion, she tucked the book safely inside her inner pocket.

“I’ll take the reins”, she informed him as he took his place behind her.

She heard him scoff, “I’m the general.” 

Is Aleksander even his real name?

Are the stories about him true? 

“On this side of the fold, so am I”, she gripped the reins and the stallion obeyed.

Riding a horse always helped her clear her mind, but this time it seemed impossible. 

When she married Kirigan, she believed she would marry an old, unattractive man…As it turns out, she got the old part right.

=============================

A/N - I’m not quite happy with this chapter, but I wanted to post today to keep my streak going. Also, i suck at writing a summary, like WHY IS THAT?! xD It’s Eid, so I’m tired and sleepy, forgive my grammar and prepare for things to heat up in the next chapters. Thank you all for sticking with the story and all the feedback, it honestly gives me life and will to keep writing. I also finally found the books in my native tongue, at least the Grisha trilogy and Six of crows duology and I’m really excited to dive into it and further my understanding of Darkling as a brilliantly written villain that is a multi-dimensional being with, let’s be honest, actually good points. I may not be happy about his willingness to commit mass murder, but I kinda see where he’s coming from and I really can’t wait to know more about the situation as it is in the books.  

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PART 10

[bitch-for-bo]

Jealousy (Miya Atsumu x chubby reader)

POST TIME SKIP

Bokuto and his childhood best friend have gotten awfully close lately, a little too close for Atsumu's liking. He's mad about how much attention you give to Bokuto after a game, when you confront him about his attitude, things quickly get out of control.

ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

Atsumu’d had enough. He’d been watching you shamelessly ogle over and compliment Bokuto for the last five minutes, and you’d failed to notice him or congratulate him once. All he’d gotten so far was a quick kiss along with a ‘good game’ before you’d ran over to Bokuto to hype the hitter up.

He didn’t care that you were just having a light good-natured conversation with your childhood friend. All he could focus on was the way that your bodies were unconsciously tilted towards each other or how Bokuto’s hands were lingering a little too much as he wrapped them around you for a hug.

It wasn’t just today either. All it had been with you for the last week at least, was how awesome and strong Bokuto was. Not to mention how built he was. God, you went to the gym with Bokuto once, and now you wouldn’t stop rambling about how surprisingly ripped the spiker was beneath his jersey.

All it was was,

“Oh my god, did you know that Bokuto can hip thrust almost 600 pounds! God! He could crush me with those thighs!”

Or

“We were goofing off and Bokuto actually picked me up and squatted me!”

All of these things were said in front of the whole MSMBY team, causing Bokuto to puff up with pride, Hinata to marvel at his awesomeness, Sakusa not to care, and Atsumu to go off and seeth to himself.

Of course, you didn’t know the effect that you had on Atsumu. You couldn’t tell that every time you playfully flirted with Bokuto, telling him how handsome and strong he was, that Atsumu was filled with the urge to rip you away and fuck you right in front of the whole team, letting them know just who you belonged to.

You didn’t know this because, while Atsumu was incredible at communicating with his teammates, he was shit at expressing his feelings when it came to you. This led to him bottling up all of his feelings until they became too much for him. At which time he would go and rant to a very jaded and very annoyed Kiyoomi.

“Yeah, but did you see that one hit in the second set Y/N! Wasn’t it awesome!” Bokuto asked excitedly, bouncing back and forth on the pads of his feet as the two of you had a very animated conversation about the game he just played.

“Of course I did Bo! It was so cool!” You exclaimed back, matching his exuberant energy with your own.

You were incredibly proud of your childhood best friend, and you were super thankful that he just happened to be on the same team as your boyfriend. It made it to where you were always able to cheer both of them on without them being on opposite sides of the court. In your eyes, it was a win-win.

“Yeah well, maybe it was ‘cause someone gave you an awesome set,” Atsumu grumbled just loud enough for you and Bokuto to hear as he stood a couple of feet away from you with his arms crossed and a childish scowl on his face.

“Oh, don’t be like that Tsumu. Bo’s spike was fantastic!” You lightly scolded the blonde to which he just made a ‘hmph’ sound before turning and sulking away.

You had no clue why Tsumu got like this when you congratulated Bokuto. It wasn’t like you didn’t congratulate him as well. You always made sure that the blonde was the first and the last to receive cheers from you. So you had no idea why he was being so fussy lately.

As Atsumu walked away Bokuto could practically see the waves of anger radiating off of his back, and he guiltily ignored them. He knew why Atsumu acted like that when Y/N congratulated his spikes. He knew why Atsumu hated the idea of his girlfriend going to the gym and hanging out with one of his teammates.

He knew that the way that he interacted with Y/N made Atsumu angry, but he ashamedly did it regardless.

He couldn’t help it. The two of you had been so close as children, you grew up together, he knew everything about you. He knew your favorite color, all of your fears, your dreams, and when the two of you had decided to attend different high schools and got out of touch it had really hurt him.

That was why he was so happy when he joined the Jackals, that you just happened to be the girlfriend of one of his new teammates. Over the last couple of months, the two of you had re-ignited your old friendship and things were just like old times.

Well, they were just like old times until Bokuto realized that you weren’t the kid he used to know. Your personality was fundamentally the same, but drastically different at the same time.

He remembered back in primary school just how shy and insecure of a girl you were. He remembered defending you against the people who would bully you for your size, and comforting you when you cried about the mean things they would say.

Bokuto had always despised those people that had made you hate yourself. So every chance he got he would try to cheer you up and let you know just how great you really were.

Over the years, that insecure part of you really changed. It changed so much that at first Bokuto wasn’t sure if it was really you. No longer did you walk with your gaze on the floor, covering your body with too-baggy clothing. No longer did you apologize unnecessarily or hold your tongue in conversations.

The moment that he’d seen you with Atsumu, he was completely taken back. You had been wearing a corset top and jeans that perfectly hugged your plush frame as well as a pair of black heels.

You had always been afraid of showing your body like that in the past. You didn’t like the way that your stomach wasn’t flat or the way that your thighs rubbed together and shook when you walked. He’d also never seen you in a pair of heels before, you were always afraid of being taller than the guys seeing as you were already pretty tall without heels on.

Much to Bokuto’s surprise and delight, you finally seemed comfortable in your body, confident even. And for good reason too because, in Bokuto’s opinion, your body had developed into one of the best bodies he’d ever seen. He would discreetly stare at you when you were with the team, his eyes fixating on the way that you jiggled and bounced every time you moved. He couldn’t help but develop a bit of jealousy towards Atsumu. After all, you were the blonde’s and not his, and sometimes, he would let his mind stray and wonder if he’d be in Atsumu’s place if the two of you had never lost touch.

“Anyways,” you said, pulling Bokuto out of his small daydream, “Are you guys gonna go out and celebrate tonight?”

You made sure to ask loud enough to where all of the Jackal’s heard. The players you didn’t speak to much just ignored you, including the captain who muttered something about being way too beat to go clubbing.

Hinata said he was going to go and hang out with Kageyama.

Sakusa said he wanted to go shower and rest.

And Atsumu was still fuming to himself, refusing to acknowledge your question.

“Hmm, I guess not,” Bokuto said, his hair slightly deflating. He was thinking about how it would be fun to go out when his body suddenly reminded him of the hard game that he just played. “To tell the truth Y/N, I’m pretty exhausted. I think I’ll follow Kiyoomi’s lead and just rest up.”

You frowned, yet nodded in understanding. They just played a really strenuous match so you couldn’t blame any of them for not feeling up to going out.

“I get it, make sure you all recover well!” you offered, your bright signature smile coming across your face and managing to increase the atmosphere’s energy a bit.

Bokuto waved as he and Hinata left the gym to head back to the hotel they were staying at for the night, each of them recapping their best plays of the night like feuding children.

You waved back before turning to your boyfriend, your frown returning when you saw that he was still sulking.

Atsumu didn’t even acknowledge you as he walked right past you and stomped out of the gym. Your frown only deepened at your boyfriend’s behavior, was he really opposed to you congratulating his teammates?

“Hey!” you called after Atsumu, trying to jog to catch up to him. “Hey!” you restated, you could tell that he was taking a little longer strides than usual, knowing that your chubby legs wouldn’t be able to keep up unless you shifted from a walk to a jog.

After he still didn’t reply, you decided to hold your tongue until you got to his hotel room, you didn’t want everyone in the building hearing your relationship squabbles and you definitely didn’t want to attract the attention of any paparazzi.

The walk to the hotel was dead silent. Atsumu was making no attempt to talk to you, and you decided that if he didn’t want to talk to you, you didn’t want to talk to him. And even if you did want to talk to him, you’d have to jog as you did it seeing as the asshole was still walking just fast enough to stay two or three strides ahead of you.

Once you made it to the hotel and after a very awkward elevator ride, the two of you arrived at the door to his room. He turned to look at you.

“You’re not planning on staying are you?” He asked coldly, looking down his nose at you as your mouth popped open in surprise.

While Atsumu was normally a great boyfriend, he really knew exactly what to say to hurt you. After a couple of months of dating, you had opened up to him about your past traumas and admitted to him that you used to only feel like a nuisance to people. He’d assured you that you were never a nuisance to him, that he could never grow tired of you. And him saying that made you feel a little bit better about that particular insecurity. So when he said that, your heart dropped.

“Oh,” you said quietly.

As soon as your gaze dropped to the floor, Atsumu knew that he’d really fucked up and guilt automatically began eating at his stomach. He felt incredibly bad and yet his mouth wouldn’t open to apologize.

“ok,” you continued, you could feel yourself wanting to cry but stopped yourself in fear of your tears only fueling Atsumu’s annoyance with you.

No one liked a clingy crybaby, you told yourself as you bit your lip to hold back the emotions.

“I guess I’ll just go back home, maybe I’ll see if Bo wants to go get some food,” you mumbled, turning to leave the setter.

“Of fucking course…” you heard Atsumu muttered under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

You turned back around, slightly angry at Atsumu’s attitude. You had tried to be sensible and walk away, giving him space, but if the asshole wanted to talk under his breath at you, you had every right to get angry. If he thought something was wrong he needed to man up and let it out.

“What’d you say?” You asked, your hands starting to fist at your sides.

“You heard me.” Atsumu sneered back, crossing his arms across his chest but not retreating into his hotel room. If anything the actions only caused your frustration to grow. Why the fuck was he being like this? He’s acting like a literal child.

You took a few quick steps towards the blonde, jabbing your finger into his chest as you glared up at him.

“Listen,” you hissed, “I have no fucking clue why you’re acting like this, but it’s not cute and it’s hurting my feelings. I’m not a mind-reader, if you have something bothering you, you have to tell me.”

“What?” Atsumu growled. He couldn’t believe that you really didn’t know what was bothering him. There was no way someone could be that fucking naive.

“You heard me.” you snipped back, your arms coming up to cross your body in a stance mirroring his.

Before you could tell what was happening, Atusmu had grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you inside of his room, the door slamming behind the two of you as he automatically trapped your body against it.

While you were still stunned by the extreme progression of events, Atsumu had unlooped your belt and fastened it around your wrists, securing them firmly behind your back.

“Hey! What the fuck Atsumu!” You seethed, your arms straining against the leather as the position forced your chest out against Atsumu’s.

“You really wanna know what’s bothering me?” he asked, the anger visible on his face.

“Yes!” You exclaimed in frustration, “that’s what I’ve been wanting to know for the last 15 goddamn minutes!”

As soon as you’d finished your sentence, Atsumu’s face got eerily calm. Instead of the scowl that’d been on his face a second ago, there was his usual smirk. A chill ran down your spine.

His hands left their place on your confined wrists to tightly grip your hips, almost hard enough to leave bruises.

“What a dirty mouth for such a pretty little thing.” He drawled, leaning closer to you until you could almost taste the sweat that had dried onto his temples.

“What ar-”

“ Shhh …” he cut you off, one hand coming up to press a finger against your mouth before going back down and curling lightly around your throat. “You wanna know what’s bothering me, Princess?”

His lips were against your jaw, his teeth scraping against the skin as he mumbled.

“Maybe…..” he continued, the hand that was on your hip tracing across your stomach until it came to the button of your jeans. He popped them open, eliciting another protest from you which he silenced with a slightly harder squeeze to your throat.

Your body was betraying you with every touch he left against your skin. You really didn’t want to give him the reactions that he so clearly craved, but you just couldn’t help the way your body responded to him.

“Maybe it’s because you dress like such a little slut at my games…. Are you trying to distract me, Princess?” He asked, his teeth disconnecting from your jaw as he pulled your jeans down and off of your body before reconnecting even rougher than before.

All you’d been wearing to the match was a pair of high waisted denims along with a simple black cropped tank top, you’d have worn one of Atsumu’s jerseys but they were all dirty at the moment. It was a simple outfit, it wasn’t anything to get pissed over, definitely not this pissed.

“No” you mumbled, still not wanting to let Atsumu know that his touch was affecting you as much as it was.

“Or were you trying to distract other guys, Princess? Were ya trying to show off yer pretty body to them like a little whore?”

Atsumu had worked your jeans completely off and was hooking his fingers around the band of your panties, obviously planning to tear them off of you as well.

Atsumu had never called you such mean things before and part of you hated the idea of him trying to tear your confidence down with the terms, but at the same time, there was no denying the terrible effect it was having on your body. You felt yourself getting wetter and wetter at the condescending words of your boyfriend and your resolve was quickly dissipating into the want to obey and submit to him with every fiber of your being.

“N-No!” you stuttered as you squealed at the feeling of Atusumu practically ripping your panties off of your body.

“ Liar.” he spat before taking your soaked panties and stuffing them into your mouth, effectively shutting you up as you moaned around the cloth at the lewd actions.

“You wanted all those guys to stare at yer ass didn’t you?” he asked, punctuating the question with a sharp slap to your ass, making you cry out and fall against his chest as he pulled you into him, one hand gripping your throat still as the other began to roam your plush silhouette.

“Or did you want them looking at your pretty tits?” he continued, taking your tank top between his fingers and pulling it down to expose your heaving chest, discovering that you’d been wearing one of those tops with a built-in bra.

“ A-aa ” you tried to moan out his name around the gag as his graceful setter fingers began to play with your already hard nipples.

“No bra? You really are my little slut aren’t ya? ” One of his hands continued to play with your breasts as the other slowly dragged down your waist, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

You keened against his body as his middle finger roughly slipped across your slit, drawing delicious circles around your clit. The fight in you was almost completely gone. You hadn’t forgiven your asshole boyfriend, it just felt so good to have him pressed up against you like this, touching you, controlling you.

“ Shit... “ he grunted, his finger sliding easily against you due to how incredibly wet you were for him.

His cock was straining against his shorts, but he knew that he didn’t want to give you his cock just yet, he needed to punish you first for how you’d been acting. Acting so naughty, such a little tease. You deserved to be taught a lesson.

“Does watching me play make you horny Princess, do you stand there and imagine getting to sit on my cock?” He asked, his fingers playing with your pussy as he started to walk you into the bathroom, his fingers never leaving your cunt.

“Mhmm.” You moaned in compliance.

Your body was hot with the need for his cock inside of you as the memory of the game played in your head. The way that he moved on the court never failed to soak your panties as you stood and cheered him on in the audience. Every single game you would watch his serves, just thinking about how he was just as powerful off the court as he was on. You couldn’t help but get wet just thinking about the possibility of fucking him after the game.

You thought that, with how Atsumu was acting, you weren’t going to get any victory dick today, turns out that you were obviously wrong. Not only were you getting dick, you were getting it like you’d never gotten it before. You could still feel the anger seeping out of Atsumu as his cruel fingers continued to torture you.

“Well, only good girls get their pussies stuffed.” he breathed against your neck, a pitiful whine leaving your lips as he slowly pushed a finger into your pussy.

“ Are you gonna be a good girl for me? ” He asked, mentally groaning at the way your soft walls clenched around the thick digit.

With the way that your tight wet cunt fluttered around his fingers, he almost forgot why he was mad. It was incredible the way that you could make him forget things like that, the way that you had him wrapped around your cute stubby fingers.

“Mhm!” you nodded frantically. Your hands were still bound and your mouth still gagged, so all you could do to convey your desperate message was moan and rub yourself against Atsumu like a bitch in heat, your hips pathetically trying to fuck yourself down onto his finger.

“What’s that?” he snickered, a second finger pressing into your cunt as the first found your g-spot, stroking up into the spongy texture without mercy.

You cried out, you could feel yourself starting to lose it. Usually, you could last much longer than this, but something about the way that Atsumu was manhandling you this time, made it so much harder to keep cool.

It felt like the setter had taken over all of your senses as he continued to finger fuck you into the wall of the bathroom. One hand was fucking your pussy and massaging your clit while the other was kneading your tits, pinching your nipples. At the same time, his mouth was latched onto your neck, sucking deep bruises into the skin, branding you for his whole team to see.

“That’s right Princess..” he groaned, he could feel you clenching harder around his fingers and he knew that you were getting close. “Imma mark you up so good everyone’s gonna know who you belong to.”

You knew that Atsumu was the jealous, possessive type, but nothing could’ve prepared you for just how extreme the problem was. You still didn’t know what sparked this little tantrum and you had the feeling that you wouldn't be able to pull the reason out of the setter until you let him have his way. Hopefully, you’d be able to walk after.

You could feel your end rising, the familiar feeling of a rubber band in your lower belly getting ready to snap. You threw your head back against the wall, trying to keep yourself from crying with the delicious pressure building up inside of you.

Atsumu must’ve known you were close, he used his free hand to help you rotate your arms over your head, twisting the belt around to allow the movement but not to allow you freedom.

“Hold your cunt open for me baby,” he demanded, guiding your hand down to your pussy and directing your arms to press against your stomach and your fingers to hold yourself open to where he could see his fingers fucking into you.

You were a mess, moaning and drooling around the gag as Atsumu’s gaze focused on the way that you continued to suck him back in with every pump of his wrist. He spat on his other hand before giving your clit a light spank, making you jerk against his hold, all of the air completely leaving your lungs as you clenched around his fingers.

“ Yeah …” he growled, his palm beginning to rub against your clit, the quick wet movements making you start crying with pleasure.

“W-nmnmwn” you begged around the gag, trying to warm Atsumu that you were about to cum. He liked it when you asked permission, so you always did and now your body was conditioned to where you almost couldn’t cum without him saying you could.

“What was that Princess?” he asked smugly, he knew exactly what you were trying to say. He knew that while you were acting like a little whore towards Bokuto lately, he was the one that owned your body, he knew that his baby wouldn’t disobey him and cum without permission.

You continued to beg around the gag, your hips and legs burning with the exertion of searching for your high against his hand. You were getting desperate. You looked up at your boyfriend.

Atsumu almost came at the sight of you looking up at him.

You looked so pretty for him, drool on your chin, tears in your eyes, he swore that before he was done with you, those tears would be running down your face, that he would make you cry and beg for his cock, make you admit that only he could fuck you this good. Not Bokuto, not anyone, just him.

“Do you wanna cum for me, Princess?” He asked.

You nodded.

“Okay then… cum for me Princess …” he demanded, leaning in, pulling down your gag, and taking your lips in a punishing kiss.

You cried out into his mouth, your orgasm finally washing over your body, causing it to spasm and jerk in Atsumu’s grip as he held you to his body, his fingers brutally fucking you through your high.

As soon as you’d stopped shaking, Atsumu slipped his fingers out of you and flipped you around, pressing his cock against your ass as your front was pressed into the bathroom counter. You rested your head down against the mirror, your eyes closing as your body still reeled from your orgasm.

You needed a little breather, but that wasn’t in Atsumu’s plan. His hand came down across your ass, making you squeak and lurch forward, your tits pressing down against the counter and your ass popping up into the air.

“Now come on Princess,” he drawled, pulling his cock out of his pants and thrusting it into you without warning, ripping a cry from your chest, “yer not tired yet are ya? We’re just getting started!”

“Nooo please ‘Tsumu...” you gasped, pushing yourself further into the counter, trying and failing to evade his touch.

His cock was hot and heavy inside of your still spasming pussy. You could feel every vein in him as you continued to pulse around him, he almost felt like his dick was suffocating in your soft puffy walls.

Atsumu groaned as he started to slowly fuck into you. He knew that if he started out going as fast as he’d like to, he’d be finished way too soon for his liking so he decided to slow his hips, his cock languidly dragging against your warm insides.

Atsumu couldn’t help these feelings of jealousy. After all, Bokuto was bigger and stronger than him. Deep down, he knew that the reason he was so bitter about you and the hitter’s friendship was that he was afraid of you leaving him for the owl-like spiker.

That’s why Atsumu chose to fuck you in the bathroom. He knew that the wall in the bathroom was the closest wall to Bokuto’s room. He knew that if he fucked you hard enough, he could make you scream his name loud enough to where his teammate would hear you. Then Bokuto would know just who you wanted stuffing your pretty little pussy.

“Come on Princess.” he teased, his hips grinding against your ass with a particularly hard thrust that had your mouth popping open and your lungs gasping for air.

“ You know you love this cock ……” he grunted when your pussy flared around him, clenching against his cock at the words, he grinned, he never knew that you liked getting fucked like a little slut, but now that he knew he swore that he’d never be able to return to fucking you like he had before. Not with the way that you were leaking for him as his degrading words cut through you like a hot knife.

You’d already adjusted to having him inside of you, the heat of him inside of you only being soothed by the cool countertop against your tits. You moaned with every thrust, you could already feel your mind beginning to fog over as Atsumu thrust behind you, plotting to fuck you dumb.

He suddenly stilled his hips, making you whine, trying to push yourself back onto him.

“‘Tsumu…” you whined, your eyes meeting his in the bathroom mirror, “move…”

He smirked, clicking his tongue at his messed up little baby.

“Tell me how much you love my cock, Princess.” He said, taking his dick completely out of you to rub it against your pussy lips, “tell me how much you love it and maybe I’ll fuck you again.”

Your face burned with humiliation. Atsumu had never acted this way before. Sure he was an asshole, but never this much of an asshole. That being said, there was no denying the impact that this side of Tsumu had on your body. You felt like you’d been enveloped in fire, every part of it burning up with need.

“ Please ‘Tsumu… .” you begged, “ I love your big cock so much….please fuck me …”

Atsumu groaned, his dick twitching against your slit. He loved hearing you like this, your voice broken as you begged for him to fill you. He could see the tears beginning to fall down your cheeks. So pretty.

“Since you asked so nicely Princess-” he cooed before harshly pumping his cock back into you, starting to fuck into you at a pace that had you crying and bucking back against him.

“Fuck!” you cried, “ Fuck- Tsumu…. Harder…. Fuck me harder ” you begged, you let your forehead fall forward against the mirror, your eyes drifting close.

“Shit” Tsumu growled through gritted teeth, you were so tight around him. He looked up to see your eyes closed.

‘Now that won’t do..’ he thought before threading a hand through your hair and pulling your head back off of the mirror, making a moan spill from your mouth and your eyes spring open.

“Come on Princess,” he panted, “ I wanna see your pretty tears while I fuck you. ”

***************

This was Atsumu’s favorite way to fuck you until you were crying and shaking around his cock. You looked so pretty with that dumb little look on your face, your eyes and lips puffy as you begged him to make you cum, telling him that all of it was too much for your poor little pussy.

He knew that you were reaching your limits, your pussy was fucked raw after 4 orgasms. You weren’t even able to form full sentences anymore, the only words coming out of your mouth were ‘more’ and ‘please’ along with all of your pretty pathetic little cries.

“‘Tsumu….” you cried, you could feel your fifth orgasm coming up inside of you. You didn’t know how much longer you could do this. Your clit was almost numb with how abused it’d been. Your nipples and tits were sore, and while you couldn’t see it, you knew that your whole body would be covered in bruises and marks tomorrow.

“ Please….hurts… ”

“Come on Princess….” he murmured as his fingers came down against your clit, “ just one more…”

You just whined in response, your hips jerking slowly against his pace. Your body was almost finished, but you knew that you had to give him just one more...one more and he’d finally let you rest.

“.... ..gonna….. gonna …” you panted.

Atsumu grinned down at you, your body was wrecked, your head was lolled to the side with your tongue hanging out as he fucked you hard enough for your tits and stomach to bounce with each thrust.

God, you looked so perfect for him. The way that your curves pressed against his body, the way that your pussy squelched with each thrust due to all of his cum that he’d dumped inside of you, all of it- all of you, was perfect… you were fucking built just for him.

“Me too baby…” he moaned, tossing his head back as he felt his third and probably finally orgasm approaching.

His fingers started playing with your puffy clit even faster making you choke on your tears, a new feeling entirely rising up.

You’d never felt this before, a look of horror suddenly came over your face as you began to feel like you were gonna piss.

“no… ’Tsumu!” you cried out, his pace not stopping at all as he began to feel your walls growing stiff.

He’d read about this before on the internet, seen it in porn, but never did he think that he’d actually be blessed enough to witness it.

“Fuck…” he moaned, his voice breaking as he sped up against your pussy.

“No… ” you gripped his forearms in fear, if you accidentally pissed on your boyfriend, you’d be left with no choice but to break up with him out of pure humiliation.

“ Please stop ‘Tsumu…’m gonna make a mess .”

He groaned at the fat tears rolling down your face. He knew what you were thinking, you’d probably never squirted for anyone before, you were probably surprised and scared. He knew he should reaffirm you, tell you it was okay. But he couldn't help but love the panic mixed with pleasure on your face as you begged him to stop.

“Come on Princess.” he panted, “ come on ….”

His hips were snapping into your at an inhuman speed now, each time his cock head bumped up against your g-spot.

“ You can do it Princess …” he promised, his fingers urging you to let you.

You shook your head, the tears of embarrassment running down your chin as you desperately tried to keep it in. You cried out, you could feel yourself starting to slip.

“ No- Fuck! ‘Tsumu!” you screamed, your body starting to convulse as liquid gushed out of your pussy, soaking Atsumu’s cock as he cummed into you, his eyes almost going crossed as you squirted all over his hips, the clear liquid running down his balls and dripping onto the bathroom floor.

“Fuck….yeah… squirt for me Babe. .” he groaned, riding out his high as you cried and gasped out his name.

He finally slowed his hips, your body completely limp with humiliation beneath him.

“Such a good girl….” he soothed, pushing the sweat-soaked hair out of your face as you continued to bawl.

“ ‘M sorry ‘Tsumu… ” you sobbed, still thinking you pissed all over your boyfriend’s cock.

“Don’t be sorry Princess, you did so good…you squirted so good for me Baby..you made such a good mess for me.”

For some reason, at Atsumu’s soft words, you began to cry even harder. Even as he assured you that you didn’t piss on him, you couldn’t help the tears of exhaustion that kept spilling over your cheeks.

“Are you okay baby?” he asked, guilt eating at his stomach as your crying didn’t cease.

Did he go too hard? Was it too much? Fuck! He couldn’t lose you, what if you didn’t like it? What if you left him?”

“F-felt so good ‘Tsumu….” you cried, finally returning his embrace as you wiped your tears against his defined chest, your soft body squishing against his athletic one as the hand rubbing your back stilled.

“Why are you crying then baby?” he asked gently, his fingers hooking under your chin as you sniffled.

“I dunno…” you whimpered, your eyes glossily staring back up at your boyfriend. Your body was completely blissed out, you could nothing but cry.

“Ok Baby… let’s get you cleaned up,” Atsumu whispered, gently lifting you off of the counter and guiding you to the shower so he could clean you up.

As he washed your plush body, he couldn’t help but admire his work. Every part of you looked absolutely fucked out and he quickly decided that he would die for you as you yawned, leaning yourself against him.

He kept whispering to you about how good you felt, how good you were for him, how he didn’t deserve you. Your body glowed with the soft compliments, a complete opposite of how he’d acted as he fucked you past over-stimulation.

After he finished washing you, he kissed you deeply, his strong arms wrapping around your body.

“Can you walk Baby?” he asked, softly wrapping a fluffy towel around your naked body.

You shook your head, sticking your bottom lip out in a pout.

“That’s okay..” he chuckled, his thumb running over your cheeks as he stared at you lovingly. “I’ll carry you wherever you want to go okay?”

You nodded, willing yourself not to start crying again at his soft words. You wrapped your arms around his neck, jumping a little to help him hoist you as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

He walked you into the room, resting you in the bed and pulling the comforter up around you before snuggling into the other side, his body automatically coming up to spoon yours.

“I love you, Princess,” he whispered adoringly, his fingers brushing against your bruised skin.

“Mmmm…love you too..” you hummed, your body so exhausted that you quickly started snoring, making Atsumu grin.

He thought about how lucky he was to have you. He could safely say that he was completely satisfied with how loud you’d been for him, with how nicely you’d let him claim you.

*************

“Fuck…” Bokuto whispered, his back was still pressed against the shower wall. His hand was still wrapped around his softening cock as he stared at the cum washing down the drain.

All he’d wanted to do was grab a quick shower. He never expected what had happened.

His eyes closed as he willed himself not to get hard again as he recalled how your moans sounded through the wall as you cried for Atsumu’s cock.

He felt ashamed for the reaction he’d had to it. Felt ashamed of how hard his cock had gotten. Most of all, he was ashamed that he’d stood there and fucked his fist to the sound of you screaming for your boyfriend.

He sighed, getting out of the shower and toweling off, trying desperately to push the memories of those noises out of his head.

Suddenly his phone buzzed.

‘Hope you liked the show ;)’ - Miya Atsumu

He scowled down at his phone before throwing it back onto the floor. He flopped down into his bed.

He could still hear your voice,

‘Fuck ‘Tsumu! M cumming!.....fuuucckk….’

Yep. He was going to be hard for the next year.

How was he ever going to look you in the face again?

[taechaos]

Can we have some jealous/sweet smut with textbook love couple?🥲 like I guess OC was wearing an outfit that was a little short and some guy was checking her out and trying to get at her but she didn’t even realize it and Jungkook gets mad and you know😏

this really went off the fucking rails 😷

"I don't see the point in you coming, we just go there to get high."

"Maybe she wants to try it," Taehyung shrugs before looking up from his phone with a mischievous grin. "What if she's secretly a freak–"

"I'm not, I just–" you sigh, reluctant to reveal your intentions behind wanting to tag along with Jungkook to a frat party. His reason is clear: his body is craving another drug trip. Yours is unknown to them, and you purse your lips where you stand uncomfortably in the student lounge. Why would such a motivated student go out on a school night to get influenced? Oh, no reason, just want to damage my organs because YOLO, right? "I want to spend time with you," you simply reason to your unwilling boyfriend.

Jungkook clicks his tongue, an indication of an incoming refusal, "It's a crackhouse with live softcore porn, and I know for a fact you'd hate it there. Remember last time?"

The issue is that you do remember last time, and also the time that you weren't there. Much like a fairytale, it ended happily both times, but the beginnings were rocky—and you didn't want to miss out on that chapter before jumping to the end. It ruins the tale.

"It's okay sugar tits, I give you permission," Taehyung says while playing a mobile game with his tongue sticking out, unaware of the stares he's getting in response.

"The fuck did you just call her?"

"I'm not asking for permission," you roll your eyes and put your hands on your hips to assert the tiniest bit of dominance on Jungkook who you hover over. The two men are relaxed in their seats while you're tense from knowing you're going to have to rebel against Jungkook. He isn't going to give in. "I will come."

"No, no you won't," is his plain and casual command. You send him a subtle glare but he merely raises a brow, as if challenging you to retaliate.

"You're not her dad, dude. If she wants to come, she will," his friend chimes in defensively.

"Thank you," you point at him with wide eyes.

"First of all, you're not even a part of this conversation," he tells Taehyung. "Secondly, I'm looking out for you as your boyfriend," he gives you a pointed look. "Thirdly, not her dad? Wouldn't you beg to differ." The suggestive hint makes your face flush in embarrassment, and his wink worsens it.

"Excuse–"

"You told me not to tell him!" The discussion ends when you march out of the lounge to cool off your heated skin along with your high nerves. This relationship did begin when you didn't take no for an answer, so what's the harm in doing it again?

—————

The night you lost your virginity, it was autumn and easy to figure out what to wear for a party: warm and cozy with some charming color. It's spring now, and a little more difficult to decide on what to wear without looking like a "high school girl" as Jungkook often describes your outfits.

Your roommate is more cultured in that field, and was kind enough to lend you her help.

Soyeon racks her eyes over your closet with a hand over her chin, elbow crossing her stomach as leverage for her other arm. Nothing is exactly screaming out sexy to her, and unless it's a cosplay gathering, your wardrobe needs more diversity; dressing shirts, skater skirts and knee highs are out of the question.

You wait to hear her thoughts while shifting in your seat on your bed until she quietly giggles. "And I thought I was conservative." She cranes her neck to you, not moving from her position depending on your answer, "Do you want to borrow my clothes instead? They're more... suitable?"

You nod. "Sure. I mean— if you don't mind."

You trust your friend to take care of the clothing portion, and it's with a few cringing "ehhh"s and "mmm"s that you are satisfied with the outcome of this minor quest.

A thin black turtleneck with unnecessarily long sleeves cover your knuckles like sweater paws, and the fabric hugs your torso tightly but ends just below your belly button. Soyeon found a solution to your discomfort with the slight exposure of your stomach by matching it with high waisted denim shorts and nude pantyhose. It's chilly at night, so it's the perfect outfit: doesn't stand out and fits in just right. You don't look like a high school girl nor a nun.

You kept your only concern to yourself because it's not much of a big deal, but it bothers you that the denim shorts don't reach your knees. By your standards, it's a little... inappropriate, but your roommate assures you that it's a common choice in this occasion. You let it slide.

—————

Your worries of being too early faded the moment you stood before the frat house that boomed with music and flashed with violet. You don't know the time code for parties, but you must be late considering the crowd inside. People are chattering loudly when you squirm past them, but there's enough space in the living room for you to breathe. No softcore porn or crack yet. Not many are dancing either. It seems all good here.

However, the search must go on because Jungkook is nowhere to be found in the living room. You hear deep howls from the kitchen and it piques your attention, prompting you to look there next. You can only hope Jungkook's not high yet, or has a girl on his lap.

When you walk in, the kitchen that is remarkably smaller than the living room is filled with men taking shots from the center counter, and Jungkook leaning against the other counter surrounding the walls with a joint in his hand. You stand still in the doorway, suddenly nervous of his reaction, but relieved that he's alone nonetheless.

He inhales a deep breath and the small smile on his face falters when his redshot eyes drag themselves onto you. He stands straight once you lock gazes, and you grin at him before he shuts his eyes and clenches his jaw. You unconfidently strut over to him, reaching his side in only a few seconds as he glares at you.

Only a syllable comes out of his mouth before his attention diverts from you to another guy nearby in a flash. "Hey, eyes off," he calmly demands the man behind you. You glance at him when he raises his hands before looking elsewhere. You presume that's sign language for backing off, and your shoulder blades move awkwardly at the guess of what he might've been looking at. "What the hell are you doing here?" he brings your focus back onto him.

"I wanted to check up on you," you lean into him to not yell out your words.

"Check up on me?" He's incredulous. "Do you realize where you are? You shouldn't be here."

The moment is interrupted when Namjoon and Taehyung enter the scene, and you stop gnawing on your inner cheek. You don't have any answers you want to tell him, and your muscles relax when Jungkook's friends notice you.

"Oh shit," Taehyung smiles widely, "you're actually here." He appears to be sober and you smile back at him. Namjoon on the other hand, is as high as a kite as he brings you into a light hug. Your eyes widen and you awkwardly pat his back, fixated on his dazed expression.

"I haven't seen you in so long," he says as he ruffles your hair. Jungkook slaps a hand over his face at the interaction and drags the skin with his fingers. "How have you been? Do you want a molly?"

"Dude," your boyfriend intervenes, annoyed. "Why are you back here?"

"Alcohol." Namjoon disappears behind you to search the fridge and cabinets and you look at Taehyung again. He's drinking in your awkward stance as he licks his lips while Jungkook takes another drag from his joint.

"Girl, you are fucked," he says when his eyes trail back to yours with a snort. "You came here in those clothes, when you have a boyfriend? Jungkookie, I have some bad news for you. Your cock isn't even satisfactor–"

"Seriously though," Jungkook tells you with furrowed brows, "why are you here? I told you not to come." His reaction is influenced by the weed, not so mad as he is confused by your rebellion without reason—you must have a cause for waltzing in here, especially after his warning.

You hum in discomfort and shift your weight onto your other foot. "I already told you..."

"Don't give me that bullshit–"

A yelp cuts off his words when you jolt forward from a slap to your bottom. It wasn't a hard hit, but the surprise factor has you throwing yourself on Jungkook. Taehyung's jaw drops while your boyfriend barely reacts.

"If that isn't the cutest ass I've ever seen," the culprit chuckles without taking his eyes off your butt. He's almost slurring his words, and his lopsided grin doesn't seem intentional; he must feel too numb to form a full smile. You watch him in disbelief much like Taehyung. "You got any coke?"

"She's taken, man–" he takes on the peacemaker role, but it's futile when Jungkook gently removes your arm from his chest and walks forward to the stumbling man.

"Oh, my ba–" his face scrunches in confusion when his cheeks are grabbed and squished, leaving his mouth gaping. You peek from above Jungkook's shoulder to see him raising his joint before stubbing the burning tip onto the man's tongue. A scream resounds in the overcrowded room when it makes contact, and you fall back into Taehyung's arms while the deafeningly loud music tries to drown out the pained sounds. It's barbaric.

"Ah, shit," he pushes you to the side and pulls back Jungkook, who's still abnormally calm. The whole situation feels surreal, and it seems as if no one realizes this isn't a dream.

The man stops struggling against Jungkook's hold when he's released and falls to the ground, crawling back while sucking his teeth. He's whimpering and afraid. "I didn't know," he speaks with a lisp, pathetically begging, "I apologized! I-I'm sorry!"

You cautiously take a few steps back, almost like you're trying to flee the scene, but it just seems like a good idea to avoid Jungkook's temper right now. Just as you're about to turn around and sprint, you're held back by a hand on your shoulder. No words are exchanged when you're dragged away, a bruising grip on your forearm as you stumble out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

"Some fucking deja vu, huh?" your boyfriend fumes, basically shouting out his words without glancing at you to notice your struggles to keep up with his pace.

Lunatic Jungkook: Unlocked.

You trust sober Jungkook to not hurt you when he's angry, but after seeing him commit such a painful act, it's more than reasonable why you're currently terrified of him while he's high. To think you were so comfortable with him earlier because he's high. His calmness makes him all the more unpredictable, and you're unnerved when he shoves you inside a random bedroom. Some reversed deja vu.

"I'm going to ask you again: why the fuck did you come here?" The only attack is with his eyes that send daggers at you, but you keep your guard up in fear of what he'll do. You have to tread lightly.

"I was worried what would happen if I wasn't here with you." Honesty is your only approach in this instance because when he's glaring at you like that, it conveys that he doesn't want to hear any more of your ludicrous excuses.

He rolls his hand, gesturing you to continue. You're nervously forcing out your words, "I didn't, um... know how you would act around other women while you're on drugs when I'm not around." When his face falls into monotone, you defend yourself, still tense, "Last time, you kissed Soyeon and before that, another girl! I-I had my reasons..." Your voice grows smaller, just like how you feel under his gaze. Your eyes flicker to your shoes.

"And those shorts?"

At your silence, he takes a few steps towards you and leans into your face, slightly bending to level with your height. He tugs on the hem of your shorts harshly, emitting a flinch from you. You don't return his stare. "What the fuck are these? You're stupid enough to come here, but coming here in these shorts? Are you okay?" He taps your cheek, encouraging you to look up at him, but it's both humiliating and intimidating. "I know you're not a slut, baby, but why are you so adamant on acting like one?"

"I wanted to fit in," is your weak defence in a mumble, gaze still downcast. You shouldn't feel so ashamed.

"No, you told me you wanted to make sure I wasn't cheating," he counters. "Don't fucking twist things now. You didn't need to dress up to see if I was fucking someone else."

Your round eyes shoot up in panic at whatever he's insinuating, "I didn't want you to realize how paranoid I was."

"So this was your grand idea?"

"Ah," you groan, just wanting this argument to end already. You know what he's thinking: "I was stupid. I didn't learn my lesson, and I ended up hurting someone because I'm stupid."

You release a relieved breath when he gives you distance to sit on the twin sized bed. He's facing you as he says, "When I tell you not to do something, you don't do it. I'm not trying to dictate you, you understand that, right?" You meekly nod and clamp your mouth shut when he continues, "You pull this shit again, I'm going to hurt someone else again. Simple as that. I don't care if they did anything, I'll hurt them as long as it gets you to listen to me."

"Okay," you exhale, shyly walking between his legs at his beckon. You tower him, but it's not helping your confidence as he places his hands on your hips.

"Okay," he whispers back as he plays with the waistline of your shorts. A moment of silence passes, and you allow yourself to calm down enough to sit on his lap and lay your head on his shoulder. "I like the high school girl look better on you."

You sheepishly grin but decide not to respond for the safety of your friend. He pulls on your pantyhose and it slaps against your thigh when he releases it.

"Do you forgive me?"

"Can't stay mad at you," he murmurs before pecking your lips. It's you who leans back in to extend the kiss, and he responds gently. It ends when he chuckles, "Passive smoking, hm? You feeling okay?"

You nod and lock lips again, his hand soothingly rubbing the side of your thigh when you clasp your hands behind his neck. Maybe he's right, maybe you did get a buzz from the secondhand exposure, but it doesn't influence your actions as you lower one hand to his chest. It just happens to fall on his crotch.

"Mm," he pulls away with a suppressed laugh, "you're actually high? Your hands just got a mind of their own."

"Then tie them," you offer in a breath. His brows shoot up, but his surprise doesn't prevent him from unbuckling his belt singlehandedly.

"A bondage kink? Who are you and what did you do to my nerdy girlfriend?" His joke emits a small laugh from you but his smile falters once his belt is in his hand. "Take your shirt off first."

It's no longer a guess when you slip out of the turtleneck in a flash; you are under some spell when you stand and hold your wrists together. The leather grazes your skin and sends delighted tingles down your spine.

"I hope I'm not going fucking crazy and hallucinating this," you hear him whisper behind you. A laugh escapes you and interrupts his internal monologue, and the buckle is clasped. "Now for the shorts..."

He stands up, pressing himself against you and peeking from your shoulder to undo the button of your denim shorts. You can feel his erection grinding against you when he tugs them down to falll at your ankles. You step out of the garment and turn around. When he gets out of your way, he gestures you to lie down and your hands are pressing against your back when you do so.

You watch him take his short off before straddling you and leaning down for another kiss. It's merely foreplay; he cups your clothed pussy and runs his hand down up and down, prompting you to sigh into him. He bites your bottom lip just as he slips his fingers past your underwear, murmuring against your lips, "Can you take me right now?"

"I think so," you shy. "I want to."

"Good," he sighs and removes his hand to massage his erection while undressing you completely. "I think... this is a better lesson."

"For what?"

"You don't know?" he pushes the cup of your bra to pinch your nipple mercilessly, and he hears your pain through your small scream. "A guy got burnt for no reason then?"

"No, no, I know," you gasp when he twists your sensitive nub, "because I'm stupid and I shouldn't have ignored you." Your back lifts off the mattress when you clench your teeth to suppress another scream. Despite your bounds hands, it's him talking down on you that renders you submissive.

"Mhm," he's condescending in his speech, "he did something wrong, but so did you, right? This is just the consequences of your actions, isn't it?"

It's his stinging touch that makes you agree to whatever he says, and you whine, "Yes!"

That's the only confirmation he needs to push his jeans down to his thighs along with his briefs, and your now bare pussy shies away from his cock by bending your knees. He pushes your legs even closer to you, and your efforts went against your intention by exposing yourself to him completely now. "You're so pretty," he admires with slight awe, "but I can't be shallow... You don't deserve to treated well."

His words make you shutter; you didn't do anything that wrong, but you aren't courageous enough to voice your thoughts. Everything he's told you today have turned out right, so he knows better to make that call. You stay unresponsive, head turned to the side to avoid his fierce gaze.

"No, you should hurt as much as he did," he mutters to himself as he trails a finger down your folds. You shiver and his gaze travels to your shy one. "What? Are you scared?"

You are unconfident with your denial, "No."

"Look at me then."

It's with a deep inhale that you glance at him, and your breath is caught in your throat when he shoves himself inside. Your whimpers resound brokenly in the bedroom where the bass of the music drowns it out. You feel the vibrations, but it doesn't serve as a distraction and you're aware that Jungkook can pick up your pained noises. He's simply ignoring you, but you can't dwell on the thought when he lets you adjust for a few seconds only before ramming into you. Your whines aren't enough for him, after all, what's a better indication of pain than a scream of agony?

His thrusts are out of rhythm, but quick and rough nonetheless as his hands push you deeper into the mattress as if to hold you down before taking your nipple in his mouth—more specifically between his teeth to bite.

"Jungkook!" It's not a gentle bite, and you know it wasn't meant to be, but you try to squirm away nonetheless. Your flight instinct is futile because his strength overpowers yours, keeping you in place with his palms while you struggle and cry.

"No more, please!" You wail when he finally sits up, and he watches you bounce back and forth due to the force of his thrusts. It's so pleasing, especially your moans, but mixed with your bitching... it's irritating.

He grunts, the sound bordering on a growl before he says, "You deserve worse."

"I don't! I didn't do anything." Your protests fall on deaf ears, or rather ears that need you to shut up. He wraps his hand around your neck in a chokehold, daring you to speak with his grip as he moans through a bit lip.

"Your ass was hanging out in a room filled with men," he speaks in between moans while you gasp to catch your breath, sounds of pleasure getting suck in your throat when he slams deep enough to hit your sensitive spot. "You didn't listen to me! Ah..."

Your windpipe is getting crushed the tighter his grip gets, and your cheeks start to flush until he drops his hand to lift your hips, spanking you while you wheeze. "You want attention that bad?" His words are mere gasps when he starts to lose himself, now gripping your waist to match his thrusts for you.

"Only yours," you muster out as your eyes roll to the back of your skull, letting him do all the work while you get closer to your climax.

"Lying whore." He slaps your tit before completely concentrating on his release, inching closer and closer by the second teasingly. It builds up in his stomach, and his abs contract and tense while he pistons his cock inside you faster, not drained enough to get sloppy just yet. It's when a loud moan resounds in the room, reducing to pants with slow drags of his length. "God, yes..."

You feel it when he cums, painting your walls white and warming up your insides, and he rubs your clit so fast that it has you seeing stars in mere seconds. It's so quick, the high, and your moan is music to his ears; he's too spent to enjoy it any longer before he collapses next to you.

"Fuck, please let me tie you up again," he breathes while you recover from the euphoric sensation he brought you by twitching and seeing white. You're panting when his hand falls on your stomach.

"Please... I'll be nicer if you let me. Hm?"

[odos-bucket]

Bruce Being Super Protective of His Kids in Their Out-Of-Costume Lives Pt. 2

(Or as this series is becoming: Bruce Looking After His Kids at Fancy Parties)

Part 1

Jason isn’t particularly well adapted to the kinds of social gatherings that Bruce’s position within the city demands they participate in. He attends his first event a few months into his stay at Wayne manor. He goes in fully expecting it to be terrible, and is not disappointed.

The old ladies trying to pinch his cheeks were something that Dick had warned him about. His tone had been light, like maybe it was something that he thought was funny, or was trying to think of as funny. But Jason doesn’t like to be touched, not by people he doesn’t know. He doesn’t think Dick was trying to scare him exactly, but he accomplishes it anyway.

From the time the shindig begins he’s wound so tight he’s practically vibrating. He has no idea how he’s supposed to act at something like this. Things he’s never thought about before are suddenly tormenting him. He can’t figure out what he should be doing with his hands, or how to stand. He’s never been self conscious, but now he’s in this stupid room, wearing this stupid suit, surrounded by these stupid people, and it’s making him feel awkward.

The first time somebody tries to touch him he flinches away violently. He doesn’t mean to; it’s just what happens. It earns him a series of incredulous looks, from the man who had made the mistake of putting a hand on his shoulder, and a few other people in the vicinity.

Jason relocates himself quickly, though there’s no destination for him that’s that much better than where he’s already been. The various corners of the crowd all feel more or less the same, all absurd, all suffocating.

The next time someone tries to touch him, it’s his face. He had already decided that he didn’t like the woman in question before it happened. Her voice is an annoying pitch. Her words are all condescending. And even before reaching out for him she had been standing way too close.

If the proximity hadn’t been enough to put him on high alert the patronizing way she spoke to him certainly would have done it.

When her fingers come to press against his chin- as if she wants to turn his head to examine him- he pushes her away. Again, he doesn’t mean to do it exactly. It’s an instinctive reaction (and a pretty reasonable one, he thinks).

This time, however, he gets more than a few suspicious stares. The movement itself had been subtle enough not to draw any attention he didn’t already have. But the woman replies with an outraged squawk, that suddenly brings dozens of eyes onto them.

Jason freezes. Being stared at had been pretty high on his list of things to avoid tonight. And now people are talking.

“Why you little-“

“What happened?”

“Wayne’s new pet project-“

“Did you just hit her?”

“Delinquent-“

“Did he just hit her?”

The woman he shoved looks like she might be about to slap him, but he’s honestly less concerned about that than he is about the mix of curious and indignant bystanders drawing closer. They’re not surrounding him really, but it sure as hell feels like they’re trying to. Jason’s having a hard time processing anything beyond the impulse to lash out again, not to hurt anyone, just to get them away, so that maybe he can get away.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Oh god, Bruce. Jason’s not surprised the scene got his attention, but he’s a little startled to hear a much darker tone than his regular civilian voice.

Bruce forces his way through the crowd. Some of the onlookers redirect their attention away as he approaches. A handful of voices from different directions make overlapping attempts to answer his question. Jason hears something about how he’s, “not as well behaved as your last stray,” but isn’t looking up in time to see how the comment makes Bruce bristle.

He reaches them in seconds, takes in the woman’s body language, and immediately drags her several feet back from Jason. When he speaks, he manages to sound like Batman (at least to Jason’s knowing ears), even without the voice modulator.

“You will never put your hands on my child again.”

“I didn-“ the woman begins. “Your urchin-“

“Did you touch him?”

“I was only-“

“Yes or no.”

“I didn’t hurt him,” she scoffs.

“That isn’t what I asked.”

“Mr. Wayne, the kid attacked her. All she did was touch him.” The man who interrupts is in the minority, in that he has not had the good sense to pretend not to be paying attention to the whole scene.

Bruce’s jaw grinds, as he looks slowly between the man and the woman.

“So you did touch him.”

Bruce knows that Jason doesn’t like to be touched, knows that he can have something like a fear response to it, if it comes unexpectedly. And there are very few things that he hates more than his kids being scared. But he also knows better than to publicly chastise socialites specifically for scaring him, knows better than to bring his fear to people’s attention.

“This is ridiculous,” she says.

“On that we’re agreed.” Bruce slips further into his regular public persona as he speaks.

He looks around. First at Jason, taking stock of him, making sure he’s all right. Then to what remains of the audience they’d acquired, making pointed eye contact, silently subduing any conflict before it can arise. By the time he turns back to where the woman was, she’s hurried away. The sparse handful of people still shooting them scandalized glares are easy to ignore.

Bruce approaches Jason.

“You okay?”

He nods at first, then shrugs. He’s not sure if he wishes that things didn’t bother him as much, or just that people would quit doing the things that do bother him. He crosses his arms over his chest.

“I’m never going to be good at this.” It isn’t an apology, or an admission of guilt, more like he’s daring Bruce to tell him that he needs to be.

Bruce makes a sweeping gesture around them.

“You’re clearly not the only one.”

An amused little half smile quirks onto Jason’s face, and Bruce revels in it.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

Jason really does. But he still hesitates.

“I’m not sure if I can remember how to get back.” He’s still not that familiar with this part of the city.

“What?” Bruce looks genuinely confused. “No. Jason, I’m going to take you home.”

“Oh. Okay. I mean, if you want to.”

Bruce smiles at his feigned nonchalance.

“Do you have a jacket?”

Jason tugs at the fabric of his suit coat.

“Is this not a jacket?”

“I suppose it is. It’s chilly out though.”

Jason rolls his eyes.

“Like Dick didn’t run around in his underwear twelve months out of the year.”

Bruce lowers his voice slightly.

“Yes but not for lack of me trying to get him to put pants on.” His tone is unnecessarily serious.

Jason wants to laugh. Instead he rolls his eyes again.

They leave the party without further incident, catching a cab back to the manor.

There are things that Bruce did with Dick that he learned quickly not to do with Jason, patting him on the back, ruffling his hair, putting a hand on his arm. But when Jason takes the initiative to reach out, he never pulls away. He takes the middle seat in the taxi, putting him immediately next to Bruce, their arms pressed directly against each other. Bruce delights in his son’s closeness.

---

Bruce’s “outburst” is all over the news for the next week. Alfred buys a copy of the first tabloid to print a headline about it, and hangs it on the refrigerator.

Jason isn’t sure why, the whole thing was awful and embarrassing, but he find himself smiling whenever he glances up at it.

[rocorambles]

Lifetime of Love

Pairing: Suga x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Overstimulation, Mythology AU, Demi-God!Suga

Prompt: Mythology

Summary: As the son of Aphrodite, Suga knows more than most when it comes to beauty and love. But knowledge and experience are two very different things. OR Suga finds true love.

A/N: This is my contribution for the HQHQ NSFW collaboration. There are so many talented writers on the server and I highly encourage you to check out the collaboration masterlist here to see how everyone decided to run with this prompt. As always, thanks for beta-ing @sawamooora

Being the son of Aphrodite has its perks. Even as just a demi-god, Suga is borderline ethereal, naturally drawing men and women to him with his dazzling silver hair, enthralling hazel-brown eyes, and coquettish charm. It’s effortless, the way he wakes up looking just as radiant as ever, the way his hair is naturally shaped and styled even after tossing and turning in bed. Clothing is just a technicality, just fabric he wears to not risk indecent exposure. Why waste time and effort thinking of putting an outfit together when he could wear a burlap sack and still have admirers flock to him?

It’s not a bad life and he knows others stare at him with envy, wondering what it’s like to be so beautiful, so loved, so wanted, so desired. Never an off day. Never a hair out of place. And truth be told, maybe more of his mother runs in him than he likes to admit, if the swell of pride and satisfaction he gets from having everything in life handed to him on a silver platter is anything to go by.

Life is easier for beautiful people. It’s a hard pill to swallow for the masses, but a reality that Suga has no qualms taking advantage of. After all, he might as well get some benefit from being a goddess's son, even if his mother and him don’t always see eye to eye.

Suga can appreciate beauty and love. Aphrodite has taught him to have an eye for the finer things in life. He’s not stubborn enough to deny that he enjoys waking up entangled in silk and satin sheets, surrounded by a beautifully decorated apartment, to reject the ecstasy he feels when he has one or more playmates in his bed.

But love of the flesh is different than love of the heart, and he wonders, despite how blasphemous it is to question a deity, if his mother truly understands what love is.

Aphrodite’s love is a seemingly fleeting and fickle thing, a fire that blazes bright and strong, only to burn out just as quickly as it had risen. And he judgmentally watches as she bounces from man to God to man to God again and again, grimacing whenever he meets his “family”, knowing how she’s slept with most of the other gods in Olympus.

He has no doubt that in her own way, she truly has loved each entity she’s slept with. But he wants something different, something less promiscuous, something less shallow. He wants true love, a love rooted in something much deeper than superficial appearances, a love rooted in a connection of souls, a love rooted in the bond of two people truly seeing and knowing each other’s flaws and strengths, yet still determinedly pursuing each other.

So he steadfastly continues on, searching for the one.

There’s no end to the line of people who practically throw themselves at his feet, desperate for a chance to catch his attention. He goes on endless dates, entering and leaving countless relationships. Some attempts are longer than others. Some partners have hope churning inside of him, have hazel-brown eyes sparkling in interest. But in the end, they’re all the same and the flutters of his heart become anchors of disgust inside of him when he sees their leering eyes, the lust driving their actions, the way they never see past his handsome face and attractive body.

No one sees Sugawara Koushi. They only see the body of a man literally blessed by the gods.

Maybe it was naive of him to believe that he knew more about love than the goddess of love herself. Maybe sleeping around with other attractive bodies is all his life will amount to, can amount to. And as he watches the people around him break-up, divorce, chase after some happy ending that seems more and more unattainable, he gives up his rose-colored dream of a fairytale romance.

But life has a funny way of dropping something in your lap just when you’ve given up all hope.

Aphrodite had not been amused when Suga had told her he was going to be a teacher at a local elementary school in the countryside. Children and parental instincts have never been her forte, and he remembers the long winding back and forths they had as she implored for him to rethink his decisions, flaunting modeling and acting opportunities in his face, anything to have his handsome face plastered on televisions and magazines.

But he had remained steadfast in his decision and she had finally relented, shaking her head and letting him know that she’d be ready to help him when he’s done wasting his gifts and time.

“You’re only part-god, Koushi. Your beauty will only last so long.”

He knows there’s no malice behind the words. It’s just a cold hard fact, a reminder. And he simply nods in response, secretly wondering if that would be so bad, letting age take its toll and put him on the same playing field as the rest of the world.

But he has years before he crosses that bridge and he dedicates himself to finding fulfillment in life by caring for and teaching the children in his class. A megawatt smile spreads across his face as he watch them play and excitedly call his name, politely ignoring his fellow teachers who parade themselves in front of him for an ounce of his attention, never entertaining the married mothers of his students who try to lavish him with unnecessarily exuberant gifts and woo him with fluttering lashes.

It’s a tiring never-ending dance, so when he hears about the arrival of a new female colleague, he internally sighs, no doubt in his mind that you’ll be just like the rest. So imagine his surprise when you just casually smile at him when you’re introduced, no interest in your eyes, no lingering gaze, before turning your attention away from him without a second glance back.

He wonders if it’s a fluke, hopes and prays that it isn’t. It’s almost comical, complete insanity, how his heart races, his eyes blow wide, just from your sheer nonchalance. And for the first time, it’s Suga who’s left wistfully staring as his eyes trail after your figure even long after you’ve turned the corner of the hallway.

He’s seen his mother’s work, seen the way humans pursue their love interests with almost fanatical effort. But he had never understood, not until now.

It’s an intoxicating feeling, addictive, the thrill of the chase energizing him in a way he’s never felt before. It’s hard, meticulous work finding reasons to visit your classroom, finding ways to weave himself in conversations you’re a part of. But it’s always worth it when he sees the genuine fondness in your eyes, the way you look and really see him, the way you care about the man underneath the shiny facade, in a way no one ever has before.

And when the two of you go out for a friendly lunch one day, when you order his favorite dish that he’s only briefly mentioned to you once in passing, without even missing a beat, his heart stops. It’s something no other partner has bothered even taking note of, too busy trying to impress him with high-end meals and fine dining. And just like that, he blurts out his confession, heart hammering, fingers nervously twitching as he awaits your response.

For many years to come, the two of you will debate whether or not that lunch counts as your official first date as a couple.

Dating you is everything he’s dreamed of and more. And for once, Suga feels like just another regular man, a normal human being as he holds your hand in his, giggling and sharing stories, feeding each other bites of food, lazing around on his sofa watching TV.

But as a romance movie runs in the background and the main couple kisses after the male lead raves about how stunning his lover is, he turns his attention to you, curiosity nagging at him, a tiny tendril of lingering fear squirming inside of him.

“What do you like about me?”

There’s silence as you owlishly blink and look up at him, surprise and confusion flitting across your face as you try and process where this question is coming from. But when you see the worry, doubt, and insecurity muddling your boyfriend’s eyes, you interlace your fingers with his and cuddle into his side, resting your head on his shoulder as you continue gazing at him.

“I like the way you always insist on getting the highest spice level at every Chinese restaurant we go to that serves mapo tofu, even though you complain about your mouth burning all night long afterwards.”

Suga chuckles, unable to deny the truth of those words.

“I like the way you act like a clueless angel even when you’re wreaking havoc and chaos, you big trouble maker.”

This time Suga does try to plead innocence, although all he can do is sheepishly grin when you start listing off event after event of mischief he had instigated and encouraged, much to Daichi’s and Asahi’s dismay.

“I like how patient and gentle you are with your students and your old underclassmen. I like the way you nurture them, mentor them, encourage them to keep on going, keep on trying even when the going gets tough. And I like how you instill that belief in your own life. If we have children of our own one day, I know you’ll be the father I’ve always wanted for my future kids.”

The weight of your last sentence hangs heavy in the air, the meaning, the hope of a lifetime promise has Suga’s jaw dropping. But when you shyly look away, nervously biting your lip as he just dumbly stares at you, he jolts back to reality and you yelp as lips suddenly crash against yours.

Sex with Suga is always sweet, with a hint of spice when your lover is feeling particularly mischievous. But it’s never been like this, full of desperation, untamed desire, a want so deep that it leaves both your minds in a hazy disarray. You gasp as you’re firmly pushed down, until your back hits the couch and you’re moaning into the mouth pressed against yours, your tongues tangling with each other in an attempt to taste every crevice.

The wet sounds of your lips connecting and disconnecting over and over again, the frantic sounds of fabric being rustled and tossed off, they all mix in a passionate symphony punctuated by breathy declarations of love, by whimpered names.

You throw your head back as a hot wet mouth sensually carves a path down the column of your neck, to the delicate swoop of your collarbone, sighing in bliss as they end in the valley of your breasts, two hands gently tweaking and rolling your nipples. And then fingers are replaced with a tongue, with lips, and your back arches, body writhing, seeking more, more, more as you wildly grind against your lover’s body.

Usually Suga likes to take his time with you, unwrap you piece by piece, unravel the strings that tie you together, coax the prettiest sounds out of you. But today something more carnal, more desperate, more raw spurs him on, and he feels more beast than man as he devours you, plunders you, marks you as his for all eternity.

“Koushi!”

You wail as he wastes no time in quickly snapping his hips, filling your slick walls with his cock. There’s an urgency behind his pace you’ve never felt before and you dig your nails into his shoulders, eyes rolling back in your head, lewd moans echoing in the room as you wrap one leg around his back, the other dangling off the couch.

You’re not sure exactly what the trigger had been for this, but you’re not complaining, pussy walls only clamping down even more when you see the feral hunger in his eyes, the drag of his cock against your insides even more pronounced.

He can feel your end approaching, sees it in the way your head tosses side to side, the way your eyes glaze over, and he brings a hand between your bodies, toying with your clit, circling it, rubbing it, never losing his rhythm as you begin to convulse, body thrashing, nails scratching his skin, a debauched version of his given name rolling of your tongue. Only when you begin to whimper, shaking hands trying to grasp his fingers still playing with your oversensitive nub does he relent, smiling down at you as you entwine your fingers with his as he continues to thrust in and out of you.

Suga’s been told he looks like an angel time and time again, but as he stares down at your completely ravaged and exhausted form, the way your chest heaves up and down, the sheen of sweat on your skin, the after tremors of your body, the duality of how you cling onto his hand despite your wanton state, he thinks you’re the true angel here. Maybe a fallen angel, but an angel nonetheless and he can feel his balls tighten, the last shreds of his endurance ripping apart at the seams as he takes in your breathtaking appearance.

But he needs more than that, needs you, needs you here and with him, and he meets your lips in a bruising kiss, a silent demand for your attention, adjusting his hands until your fingers are interlocked on either side of your head.

“Look at me.”

He patiently waits, peppering your face with butterfly kisses, slowing down the rocking of his hips. You’re so tired, heavy eyelids wanting nothing more than to close, but you’re still in a rocky ocean of pleasure, body still registering and reacting to every touch, every move. And when his soft voice makes its way through the fog, you know you need to listen, you want to listen. So you turn your eyes until they lock with hazel-brown, a weak smile plastered across your face when you see the love and affection pouring down onto you.

“I love you.”

Both of you grin as the three words unanimously exit your mouths, but the smile is wiped off your face as he resumes his pace, tempo beginning to stutter, his own head being thrown back in ecstasy as he approaches his end. Your overstimulated body is barely hanging on by a thread, pathetic mewls dripping from your lips, and you keen when sticky spurts fill you, Suga’s cock buried balls deep inside of you as he breeds you, coating your quivering walls with his essence.

Suga gently lowers his body on yours, capturing your mouth in another kiss, one much gentler as both of you catch your breaths, bodies feeling soft and pliant as post-coital bliss wraps around you like a fluffy blanket.

Beauty is a fleeting thing. His mother’s not wrong about that.

But love? Love isn’t nearly as fickle as beauty, he thinks, as he holds you in his arms. And he smiles, letting himself be lulled to sleep by your rhythmic breathing, dreaming of the long and full life still ahead for both of you.

[dc-said-bi-robin-rights]

So I’ve seen people wondering how Damian could possibly beat Talia al fucking Ghul at the age of ten, and yeah, thats definitely valid.

So behold, my good parent Talia head canons:

*Side note: Damian was not spoiled. I’ve seen way too many people use “spoiled” to describe early Damian, and, fuck no. This child has like seven different kinds of C-PTSD. He was forced to kill when he was like four and was trained in the most merciless ways imaginable to man, to the point fucking DEATHSTROKE expressed alarm (“I know how the League operates. I’ll ask again: what the hell did they do to you in there, kid?”) in that one arc he believed Damian might have been his son. Damian was absolutely not fucking spoiled. He was made to feel entitled. There’s a difference.

Now, back to the head canons:

-Talia makes up the whole “you must beat me to meet your father” thing so that she would have the power to send Damian to his father whenever she could make a convincing case of it, as Ra’s would never let Damian go just like that.

-She spends her time pulling strings to try to spare Damian the worst of Ra’s unnecessarily harsh training while he grows up until he is old enough that Ra’s will believe he could beat her. She also tried (but mostly failed, as her influence was always focused on Damian) to protect Mara.

-The reason early Damian is so entitled (not spoiled) is that, out of a strange guilt born to how often she failed to protect him from Ra’s unnecessarily cruel “training”, Talia just kinda..got Damian everything he wanted. Which..just kind of made it worse, because Damian grew up in a toxic cycle that told him that being pushed to the absolute limits during the day would win him a reward at night.

So Damian became used to pushing himself harshly to the limits and then expects a reward for doing so. However, his father’s family just wanted him to stop pushing himself so hard and will absolutely not reward him for being so harsh on himself, which confused Damian throughly. He and Bruce had a long talk about it, and Damian had to work on not imposing that same toxic cycle on other people (like the Titans, for example) later in his life.

-The minute Damian turns ten and Ra’s will believe Damian could beat her (as Damian, by this point, is just so good with a sword that Ra’s will believe the lie) she lets herself lose and sends Damian to his father.

-She breathes a sigh of relief she had been holding in for ten years when he is gone, but finds herself missing him terribly.

-She doesn’t mind though, because she knows he’s safe, and besides, now that Ra’s doesn’t have Damian to ensure her cooperation she can just visit him whenever she is able.

-The thing with Heretic is a terrible mistake, and her true reason for killing the Heretic is that she obviously expressly ordered him not to hurt a fucking hair on Damian’s head. While she does not allow herself to mourn in front of her operatives (“a moment of weakness, nothing more”) she absolutely does mourn and cry and break down and scream in private, as there is nothing more terrible than losing a son. She becomes absolutely obsessed with finding a way to bring Damian back and rectify her mistake, even more so than Bruce.

-Talia’s life becomes soulless and cold, as she pushes herself and all her resources into trying to find a way to bring Damian back.

-in a moment of weakness, she almost uses the Pit. Bruce stops her, and she’s glad, because she knows Damian would not want the half-life the pit offers, but she can’t help but hate Bruce for stopping her. She could have held her habibi in her arms again. She could have hugged him and told him how sorry she was that she couldn’t protect him better. She could have rectified her greatest regret. She could have brought Damian back from her greatest mistake. So she attacks Bruce, and is shot in the head (as she is in the comics) for her trouble.

-I can’t remember when or how she is brought back in the comics, so this will cross into AU territory (though frankly, it already was). She is brought back sometimes before Damian’s resurrection, and is a giant mess. She resents Bruce, and blames him for putting Damian where he shouldn’t have been (he doesn’t know Bruce didn’t let Damian be there and that Damian went against his orders). So she hates Bruce.

-At least, until he brings Damian back.

-Damian’s resurrection brings joy and soul back into Talia’s life. She completely forgives her beloved, especially upon hearing that Damian being there wasn’t his fault. She goes to Damian and practicality begs (well, the closest thing to begging Talia al Ghul can do) for forgiveness. Because even if the Heretic thing was a mistake, Damian is allowed to hold a grudge for his mother’s mistake literally killing him, and she knows that. It takes some time and a lot of very awkward conversations but Damian eventually forgives her with the promise she will visit more and be a part of his life. Talia, of course, agrees to any demands Damian makes to repair the relationship. She promises Damian she will understand if Damian goes no contact. Thankfully, they manage to work it out, and Talia becomes a more common sight in Wayne Manor.

-During the first few visits, most of the Batfamily find themselves acting protectively when either Talia or Damian insist on mother-son time and brush off Bruce. They make Damian wear a panic button and Alfred makes sure to frequently come in and out of the room with snacks. After a while, they stop doing this.

-Though Talia can’t always be in a place and time that allows her to do this, she and Damian try to video chat daily. Apart from a few exceptions, Talia almost always makes it to the video chats.

-Talia is the one person who Damian is always comfortable sharing his art with.

-Talia’s personal guard (the all-female ninjas we see in Arkham City) is always at Damian’s disposal, and though he doesn’t call on them or his mother’s information network often, it is a resource that he and his Titans can always count on. Damian knows most of his mother’s favorites by name, and they are always glad to help their little lord.

-Talia’s personal guard sometimes drops by and assist Damian during long and dangerous missions. No one questions how Talia knows about these.

[massivedrickhead]

Bechloe Week 2021 - Day 2

July 27th: Bed sharing/one bed

Read on AO3

Fun fact - everything I’ve written/will write for Bechloe week this year are all part of the same universe, but they won’t be posted in chronological order. So at the end of the week I’ll probably put something up with a list of the prompts in chronological order :)

-

Beca was pretty sure that sharing a bed with Chloe Beale was simultaneously the worst and best thing that had ever happened to her.

It was almost unbearable to be that close to her without being able to touch her in the way she really wanted to.

Strike that.

It was unbearable.

But Beca couldn’t sleep any other way.

On those occasions when Chloe would sleep elsewhere, Beca would find herself unable to drop off.

She’d be up most of the night tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable, unable to shut her mind off.

It was as if Chloe’s mere presence could calm Beca in a way that nothing else could.

And then they would have these moments of complete vulnerability late at night.

Chloe would reach out with a featherlight touch and run a hand through Beca’s hair. So gentle that sometimes Beca thought she was imagining it.

“Bec?”

“Hmm?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“M’kay.”

Beca would roll over, still practically asleep, and lift her arm, allowing Chloe to either scoot back into her - making Beca the big spoon - or for her to rest her head on her chest.

Beca was usually already asleep by the time Chloe had gotten into a comfortable position, but she always seemed to register the soft “thanks,” that Chloe would whisper.

On those nights when it was Beca’s turn to be comforted, Chloe seemed to always know without Beca having to ask.

Logically, Beca knew it was probably down to the fact that Beca tossed and turned more, or played on her phone for longer, that tipped Chloe off, but she liked to think that Chloe just… knew.

“What do you need?” Chloe would ask, her voice quiet and thick with sleep.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Can you do the hair thing?”

“Mhm.”

Chloe would then lie on her side and gently run her hands through Beca’s hair, her nails lightly scratching her scalp.

Her other hand would rest on Beca’s side or stomach - depending on if she was on her back or side - and her thumb would sweep gently back and forth.

In the daylight, neither would mention these moments. They’d usually wake up back on their respective sides, and if they didn’t whoever woke up first would pull away and climb out of bed - usually waking the other in the process.

And while these moments were nothing short of tortuous for Beca, they were still the favourite part of her day.

Because at two or three in the morning, nothing else matters. There are no distractions. No texts or emails to answer. No potential to be interrupted. Nowhere they needed to be.

They could just exist in the quiet together. Their bed was an island in the room. They could ask questions that, in the cold light of day, could be forgotten or ignored. They could share secrets or confess insecurities that neither would at any other time of day.

“Bec, do you believe in soulmates?”

“I don’t know. I think so. Do you?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

-

“If I hadn’t kissed Jesse, do you think things would be different?”

“Different how?”

“I don’t know. Just different. I dated him throughout all of college, maybe I missed experiencing some things?”

“Do you regret dating him so long?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

-

“Chlo’?”

“‘Yeah?”

“What if I don’t make it as a producer? What if I’m not good enough?”

“You’re the most talented person I know. You’ll make it.”

-

Over the years of being best friends with Chloe, she’d always had a crush on her. It had been a harmless thing really, she assumed everyone had a crush on Chloe.

Especially after a drunken confession to Aubrey had caused the blonde to let out a snort of laughter and say “girl, same.”

But this last year or so that they’d spent sharing a bed - sharing more of themselves with each other than they’d ever done before - Beca had fallen hard and fast and completely in love with Chloe.

Which, let’s be honest, wasn’t an ideal situation. Especially considering that, about three weeks ago, Chloe had started dating Chicago.

“He rescued us from the Med, Beca. I think I owe him a date.”

“Technically Amy and I rescued you. He turned up after the hard bit was done.”

Wearing a new dress and her highest heels, Chloe had thrown Beca a wink and said “don’t wait up!” as she left their apartment to meet him for the third time this week.

Once the door closed, Beca flopped back dramatically on the bed and let out a groan.

“You know you could tell her!” Amy called from her bedroom. “Actually, ignore that, that’s a bad idea. If she turned you down it would make our living situation way more awkward.”

“When not if,” Beca said, miserably. “Have you seen the abs on Shit-ago?”

(Yes, her nickname for Chicago was unnecessarily mean and childish, but give her a break.)

“If Chloe hadn’t accepted the date I would have climbed him like a tree,” Amy said.

���You could save me a lot of pain if you’d use those millions of dollars you have to move out so I could at least have my own room,” Beca said.

Amy left her room and was also looking dressed up for a night out.

“I’m doing you a favour captain,” Amy said. “If I move out you’ll have no excuse to share a bed anymore, and I know you can’t sleep without her. Besides, when she eventually moves in with Chicago, you won’t be able to afford the rent on your own.”

“Please don’t use his real name, it humanises him,” Beca said. “And what makes you think she’d move in with him? Has she said anything?”

“Not specifically, no. But things are obviously going well between them. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that Chloe has found ‘the one’,” Amy said. “So, you know, if you’re going to make a confession of love, time’s ticking.” She checked her phone. “I gotta go. If you are going to comfort eat please leave my Ben & Jerry’s out of it.”

“I make no promises,” Beca said.

“Hmm, due to your pathetic state, I’ll let you off. See you tomorrow!”

Beca spent the remainder of her night feeling sorry for herself, and making some truly self-indulgent mixes.

There were so many songs about unrequited love that Beca was never short of material, and when she finished she saved them in a hidden password-protected so no-one else could even accidentally listen to them.

No, these mixes weren’t going to help her career but they did make her feel at least a little bit better.

The crying and eating Amy’s ice-cream had helped too of course.

Beca was in bed by the time Chloe got back that night, and even thought she wasn’t asleep she pretended she was.

Chloe could always tell when Beca had been crying, and she definitely did not want to talk about the reason why.

So she closed her eyes when she heard the keys in the door, and kept them closed as the lights came on which was followed by the sound of high-heeled shoes walking across the apartment.

She felt the bed dip behind her, and heard the click of Chloe’s lamp turn on.

The bed jostled again, and the main light went off.

She heard running water from the bathroom as Chloe washed off her makeup and brushed her teeth, and then the sound of drawers opening as she searched for pyjamas.

She heard Chloe undressing, and tried not to picture it. She hoped Chloe didn’t need help with unzipping her dress, because she didn’t know if she could handle that right now.

Eventually the bed dipped again and the light went out.

She felt Chloe gently tug at the blankets so she could cover herself.

Then there was nothing but a calm silence.

Beca could tell by the way that Chloe was breathing that she wasn’t asleep yet and before she could stop herself, she was rolling over to face her.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hi,” Chloe replied. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Beca just smiled as she looked at Chloe’s face in the moonlight. She was so beautiful.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Beca said. “How was your night?”

They were both whispering, even though they were the only two people in the apartment, and it was only a little after midnight.

“Fine,” Chloe said. “What did you get up to?”

“Made some mixes,” Beca said. “Before you ask, no. They’re not ready yet.”

Chloe grinned. “Not even for me?”

“Especially not for you.”

“Spoil sport,” Chloe said.

They fell into an easy silence while they just continued to look at each other, and Beca felt that tug in her heart again.

She wanted more than anything to just reach out and touch her. To tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. To sweep her thumb across her jaw.

To kiss her.

God, she wanted to kiss her.

She swallowed, and turned so she was lying on her back.

Amy was right. Time was running out if she was going to say something. And Beca knew she had to say something.

She just didn’t think she could look at Chloe while she said it.

“Is everything okay?” Chloe asked, in her gentlest voice that was always Beca’s undoing.

She just had to do it. She had to rip the bandaid off and deal with whatever came after.

If Chloe turned her down… well… their friendship could survive that.

Right?

“Are you gonna move in with Chicago?”

If she’d been looking at Chloe she’d have seen her frown.

“What? No, what made you ask that? We’ve only been dating for a couple of weeks,” Chloe sounded genuinely confused, and it spurred Beca on. “We’ve been on, like, six dates.”

“But is that something you could see yourself doing? With him, I mean.”

“I… I don’t know. I don’t really know him, I hadn’t thought about it. Why?”

Beca swallowed again.

It was now or never.

“Chloe, I… fuck, this is… look, this is hard, okay. I’m not good at this.”

“Bec, you’re kinda freaking me out,” Chloe said. She sat up and switched on the lamp on her nightstand.

Beca felt instantly exposed and vulnerable - way too vulnerable - and she was up and off the bed in seconds.

“Beca-”

“Just… just give me a second,” Beca said, her heart beating uncomfortably.

She could feel tears building in her eyes and, at that exact moment, they heard the sound of keys in the door before Amy walked in.

“Funny story,” she said, shutting the door and walking further into the room. “Turns out it’s next week that I’m staying-”

She stopped abruptly, realising she had stepped into some kind of emotional minefield.

“Uh oh,” she said. “Beca when I said you should tell her I didn’t mean toni-”

“Nope!” Beca said, loudly cutting her off before walking into the bathroom and locking the door behind her.

Okay, so this wasn’t exactly going to plan.

She had locked herself in the bathroom and was maybe on the verge of a panic attack.

Not an ideal situation.

“Beca,” Chloe said, knocking on the door. “Come on, you can’t stay in there forever.”

I can try, Beca thought.

When Beca didn't respond, or give any indication that she would come out of the bathroom anytime soon, Chloe turned to Amy with a huff of frustration.

“What just happened?”

“So… she didn’t tell you anything?”

“No! I think she was about to tell me something and then…” Chloe trailed off with a shrug. “I don’t know. Something freaked her out and then you showed up.”

“Look this is really not something I should - or want to - be involved in,” Amy said. “So I’m just gonna…” She jerked a thumb towards her bedroom. Amy made a hasty retreat and Chloe returned to the bathroom door.

“Beca, please,” Chloe said. “Look, even if you don’t wanna talk to me, can you just unlock the door so I can go pee. I’ve had like a full bottle of wine tonight and you know how small my bladder is.”

She heard the lock slide and Beca opened the door.

Chloe could see tears in her eyes despite the fact that Beca was doing everything in her power to avoid looking at her.

“Thank you,” Chloe said, as Beca moved aside to let her in.

It hadn’t been a lie, Chloe really did need to pee, so after she closed the door behind her, Beca sat down on the bed and let her head drop into her hands.

It’s probably for the best, she thought. It would ruin everything.

The light from the lamp had had the same sobering effect of daylight.

It reminded her of all the reasons she hadn’t told Chloe how she felt, and why she shouldn’t tell her now.

Any fantasies she could conjure up during the night were always chased away by the day.

While Chloe was stroking her hair in the moonlight, it was easy to imagine that they could be together, but those hopes were always replaced with facts the next day. And the same thing was happening now.

Beca felt something hard lodge itself in her chest as she came to a realisation.

She couldn’t keep doing this.

She’d have to start looking for a new place.

When she heard the toilet flush and the sound of running water she quickly wiped her eyes.

She didn’t look at Chloe when she came out, and kept her eyes fixed on her clasped hands in front of her.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on?”

“No,” Beca said. “It’s… it’s nothing. It was dumb. Can we just go to sleep?”

“Sure,” Chloe said with a sigh.

Beca didn’t get into bed until the light was off and then she lay with her back to Chloe.

“Night Bec.”

Beca swallowed again, hoping her voice was steady. “Night.”

Beca’s phone then lit up on her bedside table.

Amy: omg tell her or I will!!!

Beca read it, smiled briefly, and then locked her phone.

She didn’t say anything else, but after a few minutes of silence, Chloe rolled over and wrapped her arm around Beca’s middle. Her other hand started stroking through her hair.

“You get a headache when you cry,” she said softly, answering the question Beca hadn’t asked.

Something broke inside Beca, and she knew she couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“I’m in love with you Chloe.”

Chloe’s hand stilled and Beca’s heart seemed to stop beating.

The silence stretched on, and Beca had to fight every urge to run.

And then Chloe’s arm tightened around Beca’s waist, and she pulled her closer.

“What took you so long?”

Beca laughed and turned around to face her. Their faces were inches apart now, and Beca could see the tears building in Chloe’s eyes.

“I was scared,” she said, her voice breaking. “I was so fucking scared. I didn’t want to lose you.”

“You could never lose me,” Chloe replied. “You will never lose me. I promise.”

Her eyes traveled over Beca’s face, flicking between her eyes, looking for doubt or regret. She didn’t see either. She saw love and adoration. She saw vulnerability, hope, and a tiny fraction of fear.

“I’m in love with you too, Bec.”

And then the fear was gone from her eyes and her face broke into a grin.

“Yeah?” Beca asked, letting out a tearful laugh.

“Yeah,” Chloe replied.

“Can I kiss you?”

Chloe nodded, and their lips met a second later.

Tomorrow, in the cold light of day, Chloe would tell Chicago she didn’t think they should see each other anymore. Tomorrow, she would ask Beca on a date and if it went well - which she knew it would - she would ask her to be her girlfriend.

Tomorrow, when the sun was up, she would repeat these things they’d said to each other in the moonlight.

She’d tell Beca she loved her.

She’d tell Beca she’d always loved her.

And Beca would say it back. A thousand times. In a thousand different ways.

[punkcupcakestyles]

Just One More Time

A story about enemies, neighbors and one night stands that are left in the past...

“Fuuuuuck!!!!!”

It is never nice to see a lady yell such a bad word with such passion and rage, but given the chain of shitty events of the day, you considered to have a pass, thank you fucking much. 

The heel of your very expensive shoe laid on the floor broken, mocking you under the little ray of moonlight that sneaked through the high window in the hallway. The only thing you could see besides your closed door.

Rain clattered against the windows and every new thunder made you jump a little. You knew very well that there was no one else on the hallways with you, but your heart was still jumping in your chest, and if you focused hard enough, you could see creepy figures running across the walls. 

So, you closed your eyes and rushed a little prayer as you continued to look for your stupid keys in your tiny purse as if there was any chance for them to get lost in such a reduced space. 

The cold of the night had sipped up to your body, and your drenched clothes and wet hair certainly didn’t help the matter. By now, all of the effort you had put into your hair and makeup was surely gone, and your mascara was probably building up under your eyes. A drowned, harassed rat, the lyrics to the iconic and underrated Let’s Have a Kiki, sadly fit you. 

A self-pitying sigh left your glossy lips and you decided that you might as well lean on the door and press your forehead to it, giving up to the pathetic reality that was that night. How much would a locksmith ask to come to your apartment in the middle of the night during a blackout? And, more importantly, would they take your liver as payment? Those were the important questions. 

“Are you ok?” Your neighbor’s voice rang in the air, as he opened the door to his apartment to look at you.

Of course, he would come out then, when the wet ends of your hair stuck to your skin, and you were barefoot in front of your locked apartment. Could he have come out earlier in the night when you were looking like a goddess ready to conquer the world? No, he could not. 

“Fuck off, Harry,” you muttered, not bothering to look at him. You already knew how he looked, it was always present in your mind. 

“Heeeey, I’m just trying to be nice.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were capable of that.”

“You know I can be really good when I want to.”

You knew it well. You still remembered the feeling of his body on top of yours, his hips rolling onto yours, as he fucked you deep and hard. 

“I wouldn’t know,” you gulped, refusing to give in even if your red face told another story. 

But he knew. Sometimes, when he was all alone, all he could think about was that night and the way your back arched as he had his fingers deep in your pussy. 

****

The day you and Harry fucked each other brainless, Ms. Rose’s cat died. You remembered well because it was also the third day and fifth hour of your heartbreak when you heard your sweet old neighbor’s cries and you rushed to her help, coming out of your sad little bubble for the woman that baked you cookies and knitted you a purple scarf and a pair of gloves for the winter. 

When you arrived at Ms. Rose’s apartment, Harry was already there, sitting on the battered pink couch and holding her hand as she cried timidly into a handkerchief with embroidered blue flowers. She had long quit trying to come up with words, cause every time she opened her mouth, she would just blabber and sob inconsolably, so she accepted Harry’s help to explain what had happened. 

Your brain gathered very few details of what was being said, choosing to focus instead on the boy sitting next to Ms. Rose. Harry was wearing a graphic t-shirt with light blue jeans and his hair was still wet from his shower, a stubborn curl falling over his forehead. You didn’t know why you would notice things like that in moments like this, but you did, you always did.  Especially in the morning when he would come back from his early run, and he would take off his sweaty shirt right by his door, revealing his broad shoulders and his lean body, the tautness of his chest, and the ink that spilled across his tan skin. You would always roll your eyes at him and scurry down the stairs to get as far away from him as you possibly could, pretending you wouldn’t look at him. 

So, you stood by the door because it was the safest place you could be, it was Harry-free. The air felt electric whenever you got too close to him. 

“Do you fancy some tea, Miss Rosie?” Harry asked and the richness of his accent echoed down your body. Your eyes met as he got up, and you held your breath, as Harry got unnecessarily closer to you on his way to the kitchen. You could’ve sworn he had done so on purpose, the same reason why he had brushed his knuckles over yours, the light touch of his knuckles making you shiver and look at him as he walked away. 

You needed to stay away from him, indeed. 

“It’ll be alright, Ms. Rose,” you whispered to your old neighbor as you took Harry’s place on the couch, but as the words left your lips, you had to wonder if that was true. Would everything be alright? The world seemed a little bleaker now. Boyfriends cheated. Cats died. There was no one to trust left. 

Ms. Rose reluctantly ate the cookies Harry set up for her and drank the ginger tea he had made. He sat by her other side and rubbed her back as she calmed herself down. If she didn’t, one of you might have to sleep on that couch, and you were praying it wasn’t you, cause your black dress would not do well with cat hair all over it. 

But two hours later, Ms. Rose was soundly asleep and you left her apartment as carefully as you could, walking on your tiptoes so you wouldn’t wake her up. There was no elevator in your old building, which you had grown used to and usually liked, except when you had to walk up the stairs with someone else, because you never knew what to say, and today, as you walked a step ahead of Harry, it wasn’t any different. 

“I didn’t know you had a heart,” You said, just as you turned to go up the last trench of stairs.

“I like Ms. Rose, and my mom always says that some tea and biscuits can fix anything,” Harry replied, and even though you couldn’t see him, you could imagine him shrugging his shoulders as a smirk started to tug up the corner of his lips. He liked Ms. Rose, he would come to her aid if she needed him. It was just that...

“So, you wouldn’t come if I was the one crying?” You turned suddenly, almost making him lose his balance and fall back down the stairs. 

“Would you do it if it were me?” He asked you instead, looking up to you. He was closer than you had expected, and you suddenly felt the need to step back, so you wouldn’t feel the warmth of his body, or could smell the citric perfume on his skin. 

“Of course not...” Your door was right behind you, so all you had to do was turn around and walk a few more steps. “You probably did something to deserve it,” you smirked, just as you resumed your way to your door. 

“I would consider it,” Harry said, and you scoffed in disbelief, turning around to look at him only to notice he was standing behind you, his broad shoulder blocking the little bit of sun that came through the window. Winter was coming, so the sun was starting to fuck around his day job. 

“Would you?”

“I’ve been thinking about knocking on your door these last few days, ask if you were ok,” Harry admitted.

There was a new feeling in the air. Any other day, you would have bitten back with some snarky remark, but it didn’t feel right. Harry stood too close to you and your body had become too aware of his presence. So you kept quiet, leaning back to your door with your hands tucked behind your back as you looked at him. 

All Harry had to do was say goodbye and walk a few steps to his door, but he didn’t feel like it. He could feel the air shift as well, and the electric pull that tugged him from his belly to yours. 

“So, do you want some tea and biscuits?” He offered, even though he wasn’t too sure what he was doing, or where he was going. His voice was soft, and his body leaned into the very same door you were using as support.

What if you said yes? He wasn’t even sure he had any cookies left. 

The crumbly taste of ginger and vanilla lingered in Harry’s tongue, and you sighed at the prickly lemon on his lips. You had imagined how it would be to kiss him a couple of times before when your mind would drift away from your control, but even you had to admit that kissing him in real life was better. 

Against every expectation, he was slow with his kiss, exploring your mouth as if he had all the time in the world. You had expected a hungrier kiss you, for him to bite you and make you jump in his arms so he could carry you into your apartment, throw you to your bed and fuck you. 

Instead, he was taking over every one of your senses. He smelled sweet and citric, and the cotton of his shirt felt soft under your fingertips, as you made your way underneath it. You smiled as he inhaled a sharp breath, and the kiss broke when he smiled, the muscles of his tummy tensing up at your touch. When he kissed you again, it was a little more urgent, his tongue sweeping up across your bottom lip to part them and play with your own as he kissed you deeply, the weight of his body pinning you against the door as you blindly tried to open it. His kiss was maddening, demanding, and soft at the same time, and his leg slid between your tights, spreading them apart so you could feel him everywhere. 

“What about your boyfriend?” Harry asked, grazing his words over your lips, as you managed to open the door.  Your tummy fluttered at the feeling, and you opened your eyes to look at him, his swollen lips and his dark eyes. Nothing else was on your mind.

“Do you really care?”

“I have my morals...Especially if I’m gonna see him around.”

“We broke up,” you replied, already looking for his lips again, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him once more. But Harry was quicker, and he tilted his head back and smiled mischievously at you as you pouted. 

“You’re always breaking up,” he said, which was true. 

“How would you know?”

“These walls are fucking paper-thin.”

“Really? No wonder I always hear when you fuck.”

“Yeah?” His grin grew wider and the need that had settled between your legs throbbed tightly as he tilted his head down, until his breath fanned over your skin and you could feel each one of his words drawing on your skin. “You like listening, babe?”

It reverberated down to your tummy and raised havoc in your brain. Did you like listening to him as he fucked other girls? Of course, you didn’t. But sometimes, you had to wonder...

“Where do you get them? They’re all so loud.”

“You should try it.”

“Scream?”

“Letting me fuck you. The screams are a bonus.”

“I bet they do it out of pity.”

“Wanna find out?”

You didn’t allow yourself to think things through, because if you did, the answer would’ve been a resounding no. Fuck, no. Of course not. Keep dreaming, Styles. 

Your fingers tangled in Harry’s hair as you pressed your lips to his one more time and his hands went to the hem of your dress, playing with it between his fingers as you both stumbled into your apartment. You didn’t stop kissing, not even as he kicked the door shut, and Harry took the opportunity to let his hands wander down your body, pushing the fabric of your dress over your hips and spreading his fingers across your bum to dig them on your flesh, pressing you closer to him. He could imagine the red marks of his fingers on your skin, he had dreamed of it a couple of times before, picturing you laying on his lap, with your ass sticking up and your legs rubbing together every time he spanked you. He didn’t even know why, he wasn’t a spanker. But he could do just that if you were into it. 

What had been a slow kiss was turning hungrier and demanding, your rough breathing fanning over each other skin and your nose bumping clumsily as you made your way to your couch. It almost felt like you were high. The world was blurry and unimportant, and all that mattered was the lemony taste of his lips. 

Harry sat on the couch, and you looked down at him as you stood between his strong legs, your heart racing so fast, you could hear it drumming in your ears. He helped you take off your dress, revealing your red lace panties and your black bra, which made him smile and look at you with eyes filled with lust. It was a good thing you were running out of clothes, and that you had to resort to your sexy underwear. 

“Do you wear this to hang around your house? I might visit more,” he teased. 

His hands were on the back of your thighs, and he pulled you close to him until you got no more option but to climb on the couch and sit on his lap and feel the effect of your makeout session on his growing bulge.

“Just to make myself clear,” you said. “This is not happening ever again.”

Harry didn’t care, just once was enough to satisfy his curiosity. 

As you kissed him again, you understood just how freeing a slow kiss can be. It gave you a chance to explore and remember the taste, the fire, the sweetness out of your mouths. If it was going to be a one-time-only thing, you might as well enjoy it. 

“Oh…” The little moan escaped your lips before you could even mold out a thought in your brain, and your mouth formed a perfect circle, hanging open as you looked down at Harry, who seemed fascinated, drinking up your reaction. You leaned back, to allow him to brush his fingertip down your slit, as his other hand was looped around your waist, helping you steady yourself up, as his thumb met your clit and he drew a lazy circle on it, the light pressure sending an electric current up to your spine. 

Sex was never like this.

You couldn’t stop looking at him, not as he pushed the fabric of your side to the side and started to draw smaller and tighter circles on your clit, and as he pressed soft kisses from your collarbones down to the valley of your breast, making you take a deep breath as you took your bra off. It was the only thing you could control because everything else had been taken over by Harry. He was making sure you could feel him all over your body, raising goosebumps on your skin and making you arch your back as he trapped your nipple between his lips and continued to massage your clit in fast and steady circles, only slowing down when he felt you throb for him. He didn’t want you to cum, not yet, no, he wanted to feel you lose control around his cock. 

“Fuck,” Harry moaned and a triumphant smile tugged up the corner of your lips. He couldn’t be the only one to have fun, not when the pressure of his hard cock against your ass was driving you crazy with curiosity. So, you rocked your hips on him, tightening the grip of his legs around him so he could feel you better. Every time you pushed your hips forward, your center would meet the tip of his fingers, making your walls burn for him.

“Are you gonna fuck me?” Your words were urgent and breathless because by now, a fiery need had settled in the pit of your stomach, burning down every bit of common sense that it could find. All there was left was the feeling of Harry’s fingers thrusting in your pussy, as you both ground your bodies against the other, and Harry tasted the creamy skin of your chest. 

“I was thinking about taking it easy,” he said and your eyes snapped open in surprise, looking at him as he offered you a lazy grin. But it didn’t last much more than a couple of seconds, because Harry’s thumb found its way back to your clit, toying with it as his fingers slowly pumped inside of you. He was right, you had to bite your bottom lip to not let out a loud moan at the feeling. “I know you need a good fuck.”

He was right, good fucks are very recommended for your overall health. Make you happier as well. 

“Please,” you begged, cause you could feel yourself starting to drip down your legs and all over his fingers, to ache for something more. You wanted to see him completely naked as you rode him. You wanted to hear his low grunts in your ear. You wanted to fuck him and regret it later, cause it was a fucking bad idea. 

With his arm around you, Harry easily lifted you from his lap and you gasped, giggling in surprise as he lowered you down on the couch. He was fast and rough when he pushed your panties up your raised legs and threw them to the floor next to you. His eyes were on you, looking at you as you spread your legs open, and you let your fingertips brush down your tummy and make your way between your legs until you reached your center, warm and wet for him, and already sensitive. 

You rubbed your fingers faster on your clit as he took his shirt off, and revealed the taut muscles on his chest, and the myriad of tattoos that covered his wonderful body. Then came his pants and his underwear and you couldn’t tear your eyes off of him, watching in fascination as his hard cock sprung to his belly, thick and large in all of his glory. His tip was pink and swollen, and your mouth watered just looking at it. You craved the nice stretch of your walls and the way it would hit you in all the right places. 

“Don’t stop,” Harry commanded as he saw you pulling your hand away, and you gulped, letting him look as you continued to touch yourself as he looked at you. There was a knot in your tummy, a fire that was pulsing and demanding, added by the fact that Harry was there, brushing his fingers down your thighs just as your walls clenched.  

Slowly, Harry laid down on the couch and settled between your legs, and you arched your back one more at the cool feeling of the air he was blowing against your warm center. 

“You like this?” Harry asked, even when you both knew the answer to his question. So, you didn’t even try replying, you just moaned, enjoying the feeling of his tongue sweeping and tasting up and down your slit. His fingers wrapped around your wrist and he pulled your hand away before the tip of his tongue drew a circle around your clit and lapped on it to suck it between his lips.

The feeling of one of his fingers pushing into you almost drew you over the edge, and Harry pumped it slowly, releasing your clit only to flick his tongue over it. His fingertip massaged your walls, just in the right spot to make your whole body tingle, and your tummy quiver at the touch.

Sex was nothing like this. No, it wasn’t. 

Your tummy quivered just as your legs started shaking. "Reality" was nothing more than a foreign word, and so were "control" and "restrain", because you whimpered and cried, and moaned Harry’s name as you got closer to your high. Your walls clenched around his fingers and Harry smiled in satisfaction. His name sounded fucking good coming out of your lips. 

“C’mere.”

Harry stopped, just seconds before a wave of bliss took over every thought of yours, and you almost grunted in annoyance. You felt robbed. 

But that feeling didn’t last long. 

You could feel him in your tummy. Fuck, you could feel him everywhere. You sat on his cock and he pushed his hips into yours, thrusting his cock into you easily, you were soaked. 

“Fuck,” you both moaned. Yours was more of a cry, while you adjusted around his thick, veiny cock. His was forceful and his grip around your waist became tighter, and his forehead pressed to your shoulder, just as you started to move your hips, sliding your wet pussy up and down his cock. 

“You’re so big,” you whispered desperately. Your nails dug on his shoulders and you leaned back to allow Harry to suck and bite on your nipples, while you rode him. 

Harry wasn’t soft or slow. You two were looking for your releases, and with his hands on your ass, Harry got to dictate your pace, and how fast you bounced on his cock. He was delirious, but so were you, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and leaned down to kiss him fully on his mouth, as he continued to fill you with his throbbing cock.

“You like my cock? Like getting yourself off on it?” Harry whispered to your ear and you moaned, riding faster as you felt his finger brushing over your tight little hole. “You have a vibrator, babe?”

“No,” you said, licking your lips as you looked at him. His eyes were almost black and beads of sweat gathered on his forehead while red splotches turned his cheeks pink. “Why?”

“So I can fuck your ass with it while you ride my cock.”

“I’ve never done that,” you admitted. Now it was all you were going to think about.

“Too bad it’s just one time, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

It wasn’t much longer before you were reaching your high, and colorful spots covered your eyes. You slacked over Harry’s body and kissed him lazily and sloppily as he fucked you. When he came, you felt warm inside, his juices dripping down your legs while Harry slumped back on the couch, with his lips slightly parted and his eyes closed as he tried to recover his breath. 

You were pretty fucking sure you had imagined the whole thing. Sex was definitely nothing like that. 

****

“Wanna come in?” Harry asked you, still standing by his door and looking at you as leaned back against the door. 

“No, thank you, I would rather sleep on the floor.”

“Whatever you want, babe,” Harry shrugged and began to close the door to go back to his apartment. Was he actually going to leave you to leave out in the middle of a blackout on a cold night?

“Harry!!” You called for him and the door slammed open, revealing him and his shit-eating grin. 

“What? I’m respecting your wishes!” 

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

You have never been into his apartment before, but you called this an extenuating situation. Electricity might come back in a couple of minutes, or it might take hours, it had never happened before so you didn’t know what to expect. But it was impressively and surprisingly clean and tiny and it smelled like coffee. You could make out a guitar leaning against a window, and the shadow of a large couch against one of the walls. 

Flashes of that night kept flooding your mind, which you found incredibly inconvenient and rude of your brain. But as Harry stood by your side, your skin covered in goosebumps and you found yourself taking a step back and away from him. Just in case. 

“You ok, babe?” He asked and you nodded in response, trailing behind him so you wouldn’t against anything in the darkness of the room. “I’ll take the couch, you can take the bed. There’s clothes in my room, so you can change into anything you want.”

His room smelled just like him, and it was certainly a shame that couldn’t snoop around, or even see the colors he had chosen for his bedsheets. You changed out of your clothes as soon as you could, and put on a shirt that you hoped was clean before you went under the sheets. 

There was just one problem: No matter how much you tried, you couldn’t keep yourself warm enough to fall asleep. Your teeth clattered and your feet were so cold you could barely feel the rest of your body. It didn’t make you feel any less ridiculous, though, as you made your way to the living room, where Harry was playing with his phone while laying on the couch. 

“Harry?” You called for him and he slowly turned around to look at you, the light coming from the screen of his phone allowing you to see his face. “It’s too cold.”

“So, what do you suggest we do?” He smiled, and you wanted to swat the phone out of his hand just to spite him 

“Well, I was thinking you should give me your blankets, but I guess that’s too much to ask.”

“It is.”

“So, maybe, we can just...sleep together…like, share the bed.”

“Well, if you wanted to sleep with me again, you just have to say it.”

****

Read Part 2 here!

Hi! If you got this far, I just wanted to say thank you! You make me very happy! Any type of feedback, would be greatly appreciated, but if you don’t feel like it, it’s ok, I get it! Have a nice, lovely day!!!

[writertitan]

Fate

pairing: levi x reader

word count: 5291 (not sorry)

themes: mentions of minor character death, nightmares, sassy!reader, confused!levi

requested by iman-the-simp

The breeze was harsh and whipped at your body as you made your way to your temporary lodging. It had been a long day of meetings with your new superiors, getting up to speed on what it meant to be a soldier, and trying not to lose your cool. There had also been a lot of spying, and whether they were aware that you noticed or not, apparently it didn’t really matter. After all, they were still trying to figure out where to put you and they knew you’d have to go along with whatever they said. Would you be most useful in the Garrison Regiment, or perhaps with the Military Police? Pyxis had basically vetoed placing you with the Scouts and part of you was relieved for that. Your set of skills were put to use when defending someone, not fighting someone. Or, in this case, fighting something. 

You shuddered at the thought of having to face a titan in the flesh. 

The door to your room came into view and you relaxed a little, ready to just take a breather alone, but the call of your name made you tense up and turn around slowly to see who was calling you. It was an MP, a new recruit, and it took you a minute to remember her name. 

“Private Hitch,” you greeted her cordially, her name finally popping into your head, but you couldn’t hide the irritation that edged your words. What could she possibly want? She’d been one of the spies you’d caught watching you today, and she’d done her duty very poorly. 

“Sorry, I know this is a pain, but...you’re wanted for another meeting tonight and I’m supposed to take you,” she explained. You noted the way she tensed around you, and the slight shakiness in her voice as she spoke to you, though she did a decent job of trying to remain calm. You could only imagine the rumors going around about you. 

With a loud and exasperated sigh, you ran a hand over your head and gave her a frown, though it wasn’t directed at her, despite her willingness to spy on you all day; you were upset with the situation you were finding yourself in, and how it somehow got worse and worse. You just wanted to be alone. 

“Fine,” you quipped, and followed her along long hallways and past closed doors with muffled voices on the other side, until you got to a familiar one. This had been one of the meeting rooms you were constantly finding yourself in these days. 

Hitch opened the door and let you in, and you stepped inside rather confidently, though you had no idea what this was about. 

You saw a few familiar faces as your eyes scanned the room. There was Pyxis, Zachary, and Dok, and...new faces. Confused, you tilted your head to the side as your eyes met blue ones, and then grey ones. 

“Who am I meeting today?” you asked bluntly, looking towards Pyxis, the friendliest one of the group. 

He was already smiling warmly, beckoning for you to come and sit. You did so, opting to sit as far away from them all as possible. 

“No need to be upset,” Pyxis told you, gesturing towards the two new faces at the table. “This is Commander Erwin of the Scout Regiment. And this is Captain Levi.” He pointed out Commander Erwin as the blond, and Captain Levi as the black-haired man. When Levi glared at you, you glared back. 

“Don’t worry,” he started, “I don’t know what I’m doing here, either. This is clearly more of a meeting for the higher-ups.” 

The last sentence was directed more towards Erwin, but Erwin didn’t indulge him with an explanation. His eyes were trained on you, examining you shamelessly. You’d only heard snippets about Commander Erwin, but of course had never seen him in person. All of this was new to you. 

“You’ve got quite the skill set, I’m told,” he greeted you. His voice was deep. Even though he spoke calmly, his voice seemed to boom. Definitely a Commander. 

“You could say that,” you replied, eyes shifting to Captain Levi briefly. The way he seemed to stiffen up and also examine you a little harder caught your attention right away. It was as though whatever Erwin had said triggered him. What was his deal? 

Erwin chuckled at your demeanor, which caught you off guard. And the fact that you were once again caught off guard by someone made you mad. It was the reason you were here in the first place. Pyxis had laughed at you the first time he’d laid eyes on you, much like Erwin, and it was so disarming. Now look at yourself. 

As soon as you realized your mistake, you fixed it. Straightening up and hardening your gaze, you met Erwin’s eyes without hesitation, even going so far as to quirk up an eyebrow. In a way, you were challenging him to just get to the point. You’d have liked for this meeting to be done with as soon as possible. 

From beside Erwin, Captain Levi scoffed a little. 

“I know Darius Zachary and Commander Pyxis are deliberating on where to put you, in their respective regiments,” Erwin began, “but I was hoping to speak with you about joining the Scouts.” 

“This is only a formality,” Zachary immediately interrupted, shooting Erwin a glare. “This is not to be taken seriously.” 

“Duly noted,” you replied coolly, arms folded over your chest as you stared between all of them. Your glare faltered when your eyes met Levi’s again. He was struggling to pick an emotion. You saw him waver between annoyance and curiosity and even confusion, if you were reading him right. And, usually, you were spot on. 

Pyxis laughed that same laugh that had taken you by surprise and gotten you caught, and you looked at him with a bewildered expression, never failing to be surprised by his reactions to things. The atmosphere was so tense. How could he always find it in him to laugh at any situation? 

“We all know you’re pushing hard to have our little prodigy in the Military Police, Zachary, but please remember that there is a process to these things,” Pyxis chided gently, a smile ever-present on his face, and then it seemed like he had taken everyone by surprise at that. Nonetheless, it got Zachary to back off and lean back in his chair, silently allowing for whatever was happening to continue. 

Erwin cleared his throat and leaned forward, eyes intent and determined as they stared right at you. “Whether you think so or not, your talents would be highly advantageous in the Scout Regiment. I believe we’d benefit from how you’ve used those talents, on the field. The Scouts also have much more experience with...less traditional ways of recruitment. It would be an easier transition than transitioning into a soldier with the Military Police or the Garrison Regiment. We’re willing to work with you.” 

It was difficult to keep your gaze fixed on Commander Erwin when Captain Levi was practically twitching beside him, eyes slightly wider now as he stared at you, clearly trying to figure you out. Your eyes flickered over to him more than once, your own gaze questioning him, but eventually you were able to ignore the captain and focus solely on Erwin. Maybe Levi was just a weirdo. That’s what you’d heard about the Scouts anyway; all of them were outcasts in their own right.

“I ask this in the most respectful way possible...you’re asking me to voluntarily get eaten by titans?” you asked Commander Erwin, your eyebrow again raised up as if to challenge him. Nile Dok, who had been silent this entire time, actually guffawed. 

“I’m asking you to risk your life considerably more than if you joined the Garrison or Military Police, yes,” Erwin answered, honest as ever. It did surprise you a little, but you were careful not to show him. 

You didn’t answer right away but met everyone’s gaze calmly, all of them very concentrated on you and you alone. Clearly, you had every opportunity to have your fun with them. Maybe pretending to consider joining the Scouts could buy you a little alone time, force everyone to leave you be. Even if just for a little while. 

A sigh escaped your mouth and that little noise alone made all five men lean in closer. As fun as it would have been to string them all along while you figured out a way out of this mess, you knew it would be no use. 

“I’m not really into risking my life unnecessarily,” you said. 

To his credit, Commander Erwin didn’t show any sign of disappointment or discontent in your answer. He must have fully expected it. 

Levi looked to him then, back to being stoic and unreadable, but you caught a flicker of something in his eyes as he gazed at his commander. The emotion was gone before you could really make it out. 

“For what it’s worth, it wouldn’t be an unnecessary risk,” Erwin said, ignoring Levi’s steely gaze. “You’d be doing something meaningful. And you’d be avenging those you’ve lost.” 

Commander Erwin’s last words made your heart stop beating. 

He got up calmly, like he hadn’t said something so earth-shattering, and Captain Levi followed suit automatically. You barely registered Commander Erwin saying something about it being nice to meet you before walking out with Levi. You barely registered that you were also standing up, following them despite calls from Zachary and Dok to stay where you were, but of course, you didn’t listen to them. You were only fully aware, fully back in your body, as you stopped at the corner Levi and Erwin had rounded, keeping yourself hidden as you peeked out and listened to their conversation. 

“- should have known you’d brought me for a reason,” you heard Levi say. “I guess I’m not surprised that you’re resorting to ‘less traditional’ approaches to recruitment, as you so eloquently put it.” 

Erwin chuckled. 

“Thanks for coming, Levi. What did you think?” 

“I think the kid’s sassy as hell. Don’t tell me I was like that,” Levi replied. Their voices were fading away the farther they walked down the hall. 

“You were, and still are, very much like that.” 

Before they turned another corner and were completely out of your line of sight, Levi paused and turned his head to look over his shoulder, meeting your gaze instantly. You felt your face grow hot but didn’t look away or try to hide; no use in hiding when you’ve already been caught. 

The quirk of his eyebrow was almost mocking as he disappeared around another corner with Commander Erwin. But, more than mocking, it was challenging. 

-

You set your laughably small sack of belongings on your new bed, taking a look around at your new room. 

Temporary bed, temporary room, you thought to yourself, huffing a little as you sat on the edge and then flopped down to stare at the ceiling, legs still flopping off the edge. There was no way you were actually going to join the Scout Regiment. No way in hell. You were just here temporarily, to learn about their techniques, their day-to-day, and how you could potentially be useful in this regiment. 

The scrubby window showed nothing but the black of night, a faint orange glow of a lantern outside the only real source of light besides the burning candle on the dresser across from your bed. The bed was creaky and the blankets were scratchy, not as good as what you’d had when you were temporarily lodging over with the Military Police. Still, you were hoping for more peace and quiet here, ironically, than you’d had back there with the MPs. 

Though sleep should have been calling your name, you fought it with every fiber of your being, as you’d been doing for weeks now. There was, admittedly, a part of you that was exhausted, but the part of you that was overwhelming and overpowering told you to stay awake, for many reasons. 

In an effort to distract yourself, you got yourself situated and put away what few belongings you had and were able to bring along with you, and then took out the leather journal you had somehow managed to keep to start writing down the events of the day. But all of that was done soon enough, and you didn’t want to waste paper on another mundane day, so you got up to exit your room and explore. 

Commander Erwin and Squad Leader Hange had already given you a tour of the grounds, but it had been quick and, if you were being honest with yourself, you hadn’t really paid much attention. Why would you, when this wasn’t permanent? This was just a formality, as Zachary had reminded you time and time again. There was no need in remembering every detail of this place. 

Silence and darkness engulfed you as you walked along the hall, vaguely remembering where the dining area was. You’d brought your candle along for extra light, fingers hooked around the brass handle of the holder as you made your way to...well, wherever you were going. 

About to give up and turn back and hopefully find your way back, your eyes caught another flickering flame around the corner. When you rounded it, you were surprised to see a head of cropped black hair that was becoming increasingly familiar. Although you hadn’t spoken to Captain Levi since the meeting, you’d glimpsed him around the grounds during your arrival and subsequent tour. His back was always turned to you, or his profile was visible but he would never look at you. Any curiosity he’d had about you seemed to have been squashed. For some reason, that bothered you. 

He didn’t look up from his cup of tea and stack of papers. But he did acknowledge the extra presence by calling out, “It’s well past your bedtime, brat. You better be halfway back to your room by the time I turn around.” 

“That’s no way to talk to your subordinates,” you said without missing a beat, fighting the urge to smirk when Levi’s head whipped around. “I’m not your subordinate, though.” 

Levi frowned at you, but didn’t look away. “Technically, you are while you’re still here.” 

You frowned at that and walked over to where he sat, setting the saucer holding your candle next to his and sitting down. 

“So, why are you still awake? Like you said, it’s past bedtime,” you said with an air of casualty, back pressing into the chair as you studied the man in front of you. Levi was definitely a force to be reckoned with. His attitude was obvious, of course, but there was something determined and unyielding in his eyes. His stoic demeanor was still edged with that same unstoppable nature. Captain Levi was definitely interesting. 

You should have known from your few observations alone that Levi wouldn’t answer your question, but it still irked you when he didn’t even acknowledge it and went back to working his quill on the papers in front of him. 

“Sorry I asked,” you grumbled, rolling your eyes, but then turned your attention to those papers with intrigue. “What are you working on?” 

“Nothing.” 

“...Can I help?” 

“No.” 

You huffed, annoyed, definitely about to say something snarky, but Levi cut you off before you could lash out. 

“This is exactly why you should go to bed, kid. You’re getting cranky,” he said, sounding almost bored. 

Maybe it was true. Maybe you were cranky from your lack of sleep. Maybe it would all come crashing down on you, the weight of everything that’s happened, and if you’d just rest, things would feel better. You would feel better. But that nagging part of you, the one that said to stay awake, whispered in the back of your mind about the darkness that was waiting for you if you did try to rest. 

“I can’t sleep,” you whispered suddenly, and it came out meeker than you wanted it to. 

Levi snapped his attention away from his papers to look at you then, eyebrows knitting together for a moment before finally relaxing back into an unreadable expression. Even then, you swore that it wasn’t a trick of the light when you saw a little bit of understanding in his eyes. But then the flame of the candles flickered and it was gone again, the emotion you couldn’t quite pin down from Levi, the one you’d seen during that meeting when you’d first met. 

Wordlessly, he handed you a stack of papers he’d clearly already finished. 

“Proofread these for any errors,” he said. “And there’s a pot of tea in the kitchen. You’ll want to heat it up again. And bring me another cup.” 

You brightened up and nodded eagerly as you stood up, grabbing your source of light again. 

“On it!” 

You took a few steps and then stopped, face getting hot with embarrassment as you remembered --

“You don’t know where you’re going,” Captain Levi stated. It wasn’t a question.

“Maybe I do,” you challenged. 

“You’re going the wrong way.” 

“I knew that.” 

-

You should have been exhausted. You should have been on the verge of passing out, rocketing into a dreamless sleep for the night, out like a light. In many ways, you were completely worn out. 

Your limbs ached and felt heavy from ODM training, and your eyes burned from being awake so long. You’d managed a few hours two nights ago, but the nightmares had been so realistic and so dark that you hadn’t been able to try and rest since then. Your insomnia headache, as you affectionately called it, was in full swing after exerting yourself all day. 

And yet, as you collapsed onto your bed and closed your eyes and tried to just fall asleep and forget about it all...you couldn’t do that. 

You couldn’t keep your eyes closed for more than a few minutes. 

A frustrated groan tore through you as you curled up into your scratchy blankets, your stubbornness kicking in. Whether you wanted to or not, you were going to get some sleep tonight. Nightmares or no nightmares, it was getting ridiculous. 

Your eyes stayed shut and you stayed unmoving, breathing evenly to try and coax yourself into some form of unconsciousness, but your mind still felt restless. 

It’s no use, you thought bitterly, and then physically jolted in surprise when the words were said out loud. 

Just not by you. 

“It’s no use,” a familiar, achingly familiar, voice said. 

Your eyes flew open and you frantically searched the room for her, but afraid to move a muscle from where you lay in bed. 

And there she was, clear as day, so close you could have touched her. 

“Saria.” You breathed out her name, hand twitching at your side, wanting to reach out and just touch her. She was right there. Just sitting at the edge of your bed by your feet, watching you with the most serene expression on her face. She had never looked serene when she was alive. 

“It’s no use,” she repeated, cocking her head to the side as her wide eyes stared you down. “How could you possibly sleep knowing you killed me?” 

Before you could even think to answer, you watched in horror as blood soaked through her dress, dripped from her hairline, dribbled from the corner of her mouth. She was getting more and more mangled as you stared, until finally, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m sorry!” you cried out, ripping the upper half of your body from the bed to try and get close enough to her, to try and save her somehow. 

Your hand was outstretched to the foot of your bed, reaching out to nothing. 

Another dream. 

The tears came swiftly after the realization hit. Just a few wretched sobs that you were unable to control, which died down once you got your bearings and a better hold of reality set in. 

“Only a nightmare,” you mumbled to yourself, throwing the blankets off of you. No chance in hell you were going to attempt to sleep after that. 

You were surprised to see how dark it was outside. The sun had only just set when you’d gotten back to your room, but now the early morning chill had set in and there was nothing but silence to keep you company. So, you’d slept after all. It just had only felt like 5 minutes compared to the hours you’d allegedly been out. 

You lit your candle and padded out of your room, shifting uncomfortably in your newly issued uniform that you hadn’t even pulled off before trying to sleep. Barefoot, you wandered the halls until you came to the dining area again, a surprising wave of relief washing over you when the sight of another flickering flame came into view. 

Levi was there again, a cup of tea at the table next to him like last time, but this time he was reading a book instead of working through piles of undoubtedly boring paperwork. 

And he’d heard you again, like he had the first time just a few days ago. This time, he didn’t make a snippy remark. He did, however, look up from his book, likely to make sure it was who he thought it was. His eyes flickered back to the pages before his mind seemed to catch up with the full sight of you, and he immediately looked back to you and set his book down for a moment as you made your way over, Levi registering that something was amiss. You saw him take note of your eyes, the same eyes you were now positive were red and puffy from your little outburst, and then he looked over your rumpled uniform and jittery hands.

“There’s tea in the kitchen,” he said simply, picking up his book again. 

You were embarrassed at not realizing you probably looked a little wild until just then, but were grateful that Levi didn’t comment on it. Now that you knew where the kitchen was, you made your way there silently and reheated the kettle, finding a small container of sugar. You poured a little less than a tablespoon into two cups after pouring out some steaming tea, nervously making your way back to where Levi was sitting. 

Why were you nervous? 

“I brought you another cup,” you started, then berated yourself internally when you saw the cup already by him was still half full. “I hope you don’t mind that I put just a little dash of sugar in it. I hate the way tea tastes after you reheat it. You can taste the difference.” 

At that, Levi’s eyes shot up and he didn’t even try to hide the astonished gaze. 

“What?” you asked uncomfortably, sitting down in the same chair you’d sat in before. 

“Nothing. I just...have never heard anyone else say that before.” 

To your complete astonishment, a very rare smile pulled at Levi’s lips, but he was gazing down at the cup of tea you’d brought him and not at you. Briefly, you wondered how it would have felt if he had looked right at you when he smiled. 

“I’m glad I’m in the presence of someone with actual taste,” you said with a grin, heart skipping a beat when Levi actually chuckled at that. 

Then, as soon as it had all appeared, his smile and his laughter died away and he gazed up at you with an apprehensive gaze. Your heart sunk, your earlier thought - hope - of seeing him smile at you squashed. 

“If you’re having problems sleeping, you should talk to Hange,” he told you, voice a little stern. 

At that, you had to scoff.

“Real nice, coming from you of all people,” you grumbled. “You should practice what you preach. Everyone says you basically have forgotten how to sleep.” 

“I have my reasons-” Levi started, but you cut him off instantly. 

“So do I.” 

Again, you began to tremble, a flash of your lost friend at your bedside suddenly coming to the front of your mind. You tried to shake it away, but it still felt so fresh. With a frustrated sigh, you grabbed your cup of tea and took a heavy sip, not caring about the way it burned. 

Levi seemed just slightly gentler by the time you spared a glance his way. His book was closed, index finger holding his place in his book, and he pursed his lips as your eyes met. 

“Need to talk about your reasons?” he asked; a clear indication this wouldn’t be a mutual thing. Nonetheless, he was allowing you safety to talk to him, something you hadn’t really expected. 

Something else you hadn’t expected was how easily you just let it all slip out. 

“I couldn’t save my friend,” you explained, gritting your teeth as the confession was said aloud. It was a bitter pill to swallow. “When I realized the MPs were on our tail, I told her to meet up with the guy who had hired us as their...protection, so to speak. That’s what we’d been planning on doing that day: meeting up with our new contract for the first time. I’m sure you’ve already heard that that’s the reason everyone is so intent on bagging me. She and I...we were both really good spies, basically. Sometimes vigilantes, to be honest. And I didn’t want both of us to get caught, so I told her to go ahead and find the guy who’d just hired us, see if he could help somehow. Turns out he had only hired us to kill us, after we’d gotten some of his guys killed from a previous job. They tortured her, and then they killed her. The MPs demanded for me to take them to the meeting site. We got there much, much too late. It was hard, seeing her like that. All because of the choice I made. And now I just...can’t stop seeing her.” 

The disgust you’d been feeling for yourself crept back up, almost made you gag, as the words weighed down on you. Levi was watching you intently, his eyes conveying that peculiar emotion. This time, he didn’t try to shield it with his stoicism. 

You shifted around awkwardly, not knowing if you wanted him to say something or not, and then you stiffened when Levi frowned and leaned back in his chair, scoffing a bit. 

“What?” you asked him, arms hugging yourself. 

“It just feels like I’m being fucked with somehow,” he admitted, his eyes back on the tea you’d brought him, and then flickering back to you. “That wasn’t your fault. You made the choice you thought was best. That’s all.” 

Although the words should have been meaningless coming from someone who didn’t know you at all, or know the situation, it dawned on you that maybe Levi understood more than you realized. Him being a captain in the Scout Regiment alone was reason enough. How many people had he lost? Against your own wishes, you felt yourself soothed by his words. 

“I’m sorry about whoever you’ve lost,” you whispered. “What was their name?” 

Levi tensed at the question and you knew you wouldn’t really get an answer. 

“Too many names to list,” he breathed out. You nodded. 

“My friend’s name was Saria,” you said, forcing yourself to say the words. It was painful to even speak her name. You felt ashamed to do it, undeserving. “She’d be more qualified for this kind of thing. I’ll probably be hanged soon or something. I’m not a soldier.” 

Levi gave a fleeting smile again, shaking his head. 

“Trust me, you’ll learn. Just survive it. That’s all you can do.” His eyes darkened, then softened, as he said, “Survive it for her.” 

As soon as he got the words out, you found yourself making that promise to yourself, and to her. 

“I will.” 

-

“You’re sure?” 

Levi’s surprise and apprehension was evident in his question, his brow quirked up as he gazed at you from across the table. It was supper time, and you’d made it a habit to sit with him and the other higher-ups during meal times. At first, he’d barely acknowledged you. Now, on the third day, and with your little announcement, he was forced to engage with you. 

“Yup. I’ve decided to join the Scouts.” You repeated the words again, tasting them on your tongue, and they didn’t taste so bitter. Just a couple of weeks ago, you would have scoffed at the idea of being crazy enough to choose the Scout Regiment. 

From beside Levi, an amused chuckle rumbled from Erwin’s chest. 

“Zachary’s not going to be very happy about this,” he mused, but he was clearly enjoying the prospect of telling him, gaze faraway as he daydreamed the scenario. 

Levi didn’t say anything else, but he gave you a wary glance again before getting back to his cup of tea. You shrugged and continued to eat your meal, though admittedly, you were too antsy to really eat. You ended up handing over the last of your bread to Levi, who shot you an incredulous stare, and the last of your vegetables to Hange, who seemed pleased. 

“Take it, I’m full,” you insisted, already hurrying away from the table so you couldn’t be around to hear of the protests. 

It was true, you felt full and didn’t have an appetite. Maybe it had to do with the anxiety coursing through you, though. Because, for once in who knew how long, you actually felt sleepy. Your eyelids drooped as you made it to your no-longer-temporary room and finished your night routine of pajamas and splashing some water on your face. You crawled into your no-longer-temporary bed and sighed in relief, letting sleep take you. 

When you felt the bed dip, you tensed up. For what felt like several minutes, you waited in silence, hoping to be called into a dreamless sleep, but you were suddenly all too aware of your bedroom, and the fact that you just didn’t feel alone.

“It’s no use.” Saria’s voice pierced through the air and made your eyes fly open. The same words she’d used before. She’d never liked repeating herself when she was alive. Dead Saria was kind of annoying. 

You wanted to tell her so many things, wanted to beg for her to let you sleep, but your throat felt like there was a rock lodged in it. The lump couldn’t be swallowed down. You couldn’t even scream. You couldn’t even move. Your body felt heavy, like lead. 

“It’s fine,” Saria sighed wistfully, a hand running over the material of your blanket. “You’ll probably be dead soon. The Scouts, huh? Wonder why you chose the Scouts.” 

And then you finally found the will to move, and clenched your eyes shut as you sat up in bed forcefully. When you opened your eyes again, she was gone. 

A shaky exhale left you and you clambered out of your bed, wanting to just get out of there and already knowing where you wanted to go and who you wanted to see. You lit your candle and made your way out, barefoot and only in your nightgown. 

The sight of Levi’s flickering candle made you feel ten times better, and the sight of Levi himself made you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. 

When you saw that there was a second cup of tea right in front of your usual seat, you let yourself smile. 

[chenziee]

Here's a fun prompt for you..

Au where’s Law's a marine admrial purposely misinterpret the orders of taking care of Strawhats, and especially take out Strawhat Luffy...much tothe dismay of the world government and the enjoyment the Strawhats...

Thank you so so much for this prompt! It was so fun to work with and I really hope to explore it more than what I’ve got so far :D Seriously, thank you, I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writng <33

Also sorry for being so slow;;

—————

Take out as in on a date, right?

[read on AO3 or below the cut]

Being called into the Fleet Admiral’s office first thing in the morning wasn’t Law’s favourite way to start a day. He supposed it wasn’t the poor messenger’s fault but he also couldn’t have been bothered to play nice when he got woken up after a grand two hours of sleep—sleep that he damn well deserved after an entire night out on a mission—and so he only glowered at the marine standing by the door to his room, hoping his stare would convey the displeasure he was feeling and make the man go the hell away.

Sadly, even though the pink haired Captain cowered under Law’s sharp glare, he stood his ground. “I’m sorry, Admiral, but the Fleet Admiral said it’s urgent,” he rattled off, speaking fast and unnecessarily loud, even waving his hands in front of himself as if he could deflect Law’s wrath if he tried hard enough.

“He always says that,” Law muttered, letting go of a frustrated groan. “Fine, I’ll be right there. There better be enough coffee to wake up an entire battleship by the time I get to his office.”

“Yessir!” The Captain, Cobie or something, Law was pretty sure, saluted before high tailing it out of Law’s room. Probably off to make the coffee himself.

Law only shook his head before letting himself fall face-first back into his pillow.

Five more minutes couldn’t hurt, right?

—————

“I called you in here three hours ago,” Sengoku said tiredly, tapping his fingers against his desk as he leaned back in his chair, regarding Law with a displeased stare.

Law thought to himself that if anyone had the right to sound tired, it was him, but he knew better than to provoke his grandfather when he was already this agitated. Law may have had zero respect for authority but he also didn’t have a death wish.

So instead, he only blinked slowly and sipped on his coffee. “Well, I’m here now. What did you want?”

Sengoku took a deep breath, looking like he was ready to chew Law out for his lack of enthusiasm but after meeting Law's blank gaze, he deflated. Instead, he simply rubbed the bridge of his nose and Law felt like he was having a flashback to when he was 13 and Cora-san first brought him to headquarters. Back then, Sengoku was also constantly getting angry at Law's jaded, nihilistic attitude before catching himself.

And Law was grateful to him for that. After Cora-san had explained who Law was, what had happened to him in Flevance and then later with Doflamingo, Sengoku always took great care not to lose patience with Law, showing him just as much respect and love as Cora-san did, no matter how badly Law acted.

And even though Law did give him as much cheek as he did to everyone else in a position of authority—or anyone under the World Government in general—he still loved his grandfather regardless.

Right now, however, it looked like Sengoku was closer to snapping at Law than he ever was in the past. Which was funny, because Law didn’t recall doing anything to incur his boss’ wrath. Not in the past 24 hours at least.

“Care to explain this report of yours?” Sengoku finally hissed.

Law frowned, picking up the papers that were pushed in his general direction. It was the report he had submitted late last night, a recount of the mission Sengoku himself had sent him on. And for once, he had followed his orders to a T so he had to wonder what exactly the issue was.

He turned to the side to look at Cora-san, who was sitting on the couch while Sengoku’s pet goat chewed on his coat. His dad only shrugged, accidentally spilling his own coffee all over his lap, and offering Law no explanation. So, the Admiral turned back at Sengoku. “I don’t understand,” he said, raising an eyebrow as he tossed the report back at the Fleet Admiral’s desk.

Sengoku let go of a sharp breath. He pulled the papers towards himself, flipping through them until he found the part he wanted and started reading out loud. “He was surprised at first but agreed immediately. His crew wasn’t too happy about me stealing their captain but he told them not to follow us. So, we went alone, thank fuck. I really wasn’t looking forward to eating while having to babysit all the other idiots as well.

“We ended up going to this cute place at the port since he wanted to be close to the ocean. Made them give us their best table with a view—the stupid Admiral thing is good for something at least. We ate (bill attached, thanks) and talked for a long while. I can’t be bothered to recount all that, but I want it to be known he waves his hands around a lot when excited and it’s really cute.

“After the place ran out of food, he took my hand to drag me off and we took a walk around the beach. I told him to just call me Law again but he keeps insisting on calling me Torao. Said he likes it because it “makes him feel warm” and I couldn’t say no to that face. I kissed him. And I think I’m really in love.”

Sengoku stopped reading then. He slammed his hand down at the report, anger radiating off of him as he glared at Law with his jaw clenched. “Are you going to keep playing dumb with me?” he growled when Law didn’t say anything.

Law simply returned his gaze impassively. “I don’t see the issue. I was on a mission and this is the mission report.”

“This is not a report, it’s a goddamned love letter!” Sengoku finally snapped and Law had to bite his cheek to stop himself from snorting at the way the Fleet Admiral's eye twitched in irritation. “Your orders were clear. Either arrest or kill Straw Hat Luffy before he causes even more trouble!”

Making sure his face was perfectly straight, Law looked Sengoku in the eyes and slowly replied, “You said, and I quote, ‘Take Straw Hat out before the Five Elders drive me insane.’”

Heavy silence settled over the room. Law watched calmly as Sengoku’s expression went from confused to surprised to completely blank before his entire face twisted in anger. It took the old man a while to form a coherent sentence but when he finally spoke up, his tone of voice was ice cold and obviously forced to stay level. “You know damn well what I meant.”

“Maybe,” Law couldn’t help but say, quickly hiding his smirk behind his coffee cup.

Sengoku took a deep breath, seemingly puffing up and Law thought he would finally explode but then he looked at Cora-san instead. “Roci, you try and tell him something!”

Law tilted his head back, looking at Cora-san expectantly. He paused from where he was now trying to get Baarbara the goat to let go of his pack of cigarettes and looked up. First at Sengoku, then his eyes slid to his son. “Good job, Law, I told you you could do it,” he said seriously and Law’s smirk only widened at his words.

“ROCI!” Sengoku shouted for the first time, making Cora-san jump, his cigarettes flying out of his hands and out the window.

At least he wouldn’t be setting himself on fire anytime soon, Law thought to himself as he shook his head at the man’s fumbling.

“What, dad? I’m just happy he’s happy,” Cora-san said, sitting back in the couch as if nothing happened.

“Normally I would agree but not in this case. You’re his father, do something about this before anyone hears about it!” Sengoku ordered, gesturing between Law and his report.

Cora-san exchanged a look with Law before tilting his head at Sengoku. “You want me to scold him for breaking the rules? Me, who burned down like five hospitals for him when he was little?”

A few beats of heavy silence passed before—

“You did what?!”

—————

It was only an hour later, after Sengoku thoroughly chewed both his son and grandson out, that Law and Cora-san were finally able to leave the Fleet Admiral’s office, and even though Law stopped paying attention five minutes in, he was still glad that was over. He could only listen to an old man go on and on about law and marines and pirates and hospitals for so long before wanting to go drown himself.

“So it’s been two years,” Cora-san noted as they set off together in search of more coffee for Law. “Can I meet your boyfriend now that you finally had a proper date?”

Law chuckled at how eager Cora-san sounded. He had been bothering Law over this since he and Straw Hat started dating and Law would be lying if he said he wasn’t starting to cave. “I don’t know if I can deal with the both you and his crew of idiots at the same time.”

“Why?” Cora-san whined.

“Because,” Law started slowly, shooting Cora-san a look, ”I feel like someone would end up drowning by the end of it and I’m not sure I would be willing to save either of you. You’d probably end up pulling out some baby pictures or something else stupid.” And Law really really wasn’t up for dealing with that.

“I wasn’t going to! But thank you for the idea.” He smiled brightly, and Law wanted to be mad at him but he couldn’t—not when he looked at him like that.

One more reason to keep the two of them away from each other. Embarrassing sharing of childhood and love confession stories aside, Law’s heart probably wouldn’t be able to handle two of these blinding grins at once. He would just end up agreeing to anything these two idiots came up with.

[gaycrouton]

my everything

post- en ami | 1.7k | angst | ao3

scully wants to make sure her and mulder are alright after the events of en ami

The only reason she hadn't started crying last night was because Frohike, Langly, and Byers were there. Though, by the looks of contrite pity on their faces, she might as well have been. Mulder had callously told her that the Gunmen would give her a ride home and she should take the night to put her head on straight.

So, instead of having a heart-to-heart with her partner, she sat in the back of the Gunmen's van next to Langly who wordlessly handed her a tissue when it became too much for him.

The whole night she stewed over what she could say to Mulder to get him to believe her, and she'd managed to convince him to let her drive him to Spender's office, only to yet again be met with an angry, brooding Mulder who could barely look at her.

The whole car ride back was filled with uncomfortable tension as he only replied to her with one word statements and non-committal grunts. When she pulled up to his building, he barely said goodbye before slamming the car door and rushing into his building with anger in every step.

Scully knew he wanted her to drive away, he'd made it abundantly clear he'd made his mind up about this issue: she was stupid and risked her life for nothing. There wasn't a single thing she could say that would sway him. The entire time she was with Spender, she'd thought of him - missing him, finally realizing the impetus behind why he'd risked his own life in these very situations before.

Now she was back empty handed and the only person who could make her feel better couldn't stand the sight of her.

She couldn't let this go on, and before she knew it, she was standing outside his door knocking. "Mulder, I know you're in there, let me in!"

The door swung open and she was met with his tired stare. "What? Did you remember he promised you the solution to world hunger too?" he asked, not even trying to keep the contempt out of his voice.

"Don't do this to me." She'd meant it to come out a stern warning, but her voice trembled and she could hear the tightness in her throat.

Finally, he really looked in her eyes and she saw a flicker of sadness pass though his gaze. With a sigh, he took a step back and opened the door wider, beckoning her in. As soon as she stepped inside, she hung her coat up on the billiard-ball coat rack he had, making her intentions of staying perfectly clear.

While she'd anticipated having to lead the conversation, Mulder surprised her by breaking the silence. "You showed up here last night after days of being missing without a word."

"I told you, I sent a message through Skinner. I tried to send you a recording. I-" she started firmly, getting interrupted by him in the process of defending herself.

He took a step forward and bent down ever so slightly to be closer to his height, "I thought you were dead. I thought you might've been abducted, or that you were dead in a ditch. You seem to be putting a lot of effort into making sure I know you were justified in your actions with little regard to how that affected the people who care about you."

Her breathing hitched at his last sentiment, but it was quickly overtaken by fury. "You're one to talk! How many times have you run off by yourself and I don't even get the decency of a note."

"You told Skinner you were fine, I've heard you say that goddamned word enough to know that means nothing. You were fine after your abduction, you were fine when you had cancer, for all I knew you could have just been shot and you'd still claim you were fine," he snapped.

"What should have I said? 'Oh, Mulder, Spender's being wonderful?' Would that have been better? Lying?" she replied sarcastically.

"Would that have been a lie?" he replied, crossing his hands over his chest.

Her brows furrowed at him in disbelief. "Was me telling you that you were right and I had been in danger while I was with him not clear enough?"

"You said other people were putting you in danger, not Spender. Did he hurt you?" he asked, for the first time since she'd been back, the wall of resentment starting to crack and give way to the worry that had been at the root of his anger.

She felt her mouth fall open awkwardly as she tried to think of what to say to avoid setting him off again. "N-no, I-" she stammered lamely.

Mulder's brows furrowed as his jaw clenched, his eyes full of unspoken fear as he saw right through her facade of strength. "Scully, what did he do?"

Scully rolled her eyes and bit the inside of her cheek in an attempt to hold back the tears threatening to well up in her eyes. She hadn't wanted to have this conversation right now as she was still trying to process it herself. "Um, I think he drugged me. One minute I was in the car with him and the next I was waking up on a bed in the guest room of his cabin," she admitted in a whisper.

The room was silent and tense and when she looked up beneath her lashes she saw Mulder was clearly having as much of a hard time processing what she said as she did. "Did he touch you?" he replied lowly.

"My bra and underwear were still on," she stated, not that it was hard evidence. "But I really don't think he did. I'm not sore, so um-I don't feel like he did anything… like that," she replied awkwardly.

"Oh, Scully," he sighed, drawing her into his arms so he could hug her tightly.

For the first time in days, she finally felt comfortable again, and she breathed in his scent appreciatively as her cheek rubbed against the cotton of his sweater. "I didn't mean to make you feel worse than I'm sure you already do," he murmured into the crown of her head, pressing his lips against her hair in a prolonged kiss.

"I was always thinking of you, Mulder. You have to believe me. I didn't think I was doing anything you wouldn't do if the situations were reversed," she murmured.

"I didn't know where you were," he replied, sounding like a scared child. He tightened his grip around her and guilt started gnawing at her heart. This was a man who'd experienced more loved ones going missing than most people ever hear of. She knew how much her abduction had an impact on him, she could only imagine the fear he felt thinking it had, or was about to, happen again.

"That's why I tried to contact you any time I could. I remembered how I felt all the times I knew you were in danger without me," she replied, leaning away so she could look up at him, her arms still lightly wrapped around him.

He looked pensive at her comment, and she was just about to ask him why when he said, "You didn't want to talk to me."

"Yes I did," she replied, a surge of irritation welling back up. "All I wanted to do was talk to you. I went to your apartment as soon as I could. You were the one who-"

"No," he interrupted, shaking his head. He lifted a hand up and brushed her hair back so her face wasn't obscured. "When you talked to Skinner. He tried to hand me the phone and you refused."

"Spender was right next to me," she replied as if it was answer enough.

Mulder raised his eyebrows a bit as if to say, "And?"

Truth be told, she was pretty sure she might've cried if she heard his voice. She had been so anxious, she didn't think she could take hearing the worry in his voice. "I didn't want him to hear me talk to you," she offered before deciding he deserved honesty. Licking her lips, she whispered, "If I had heard your voice, I'm not sure I would have been able to keep going with him, and in the moment I was certain I was making the right choice."

Mulder regarded her with so much tenderness, such a stark contrast to how he'd been last night, she felt her heart start to hammer in her chest. "You're my everything, I can't lose you," he admitted. "When you're missing it feels like the world becomes cruel and unforgiving. I can't take it."

Scully was stunned at his honesty and felt frozen by the weight of the sentiments. "I'm sorry for what I put you through," she replied, reaching a hand up and stroking his cheek.

This moment felt important. Emotions were high, he was holding her with so much affection she felt like her skin was burning, they were both dancing around admitting the truth that had been between them for too long - but she didn't want such an important part of their relationship to stem from what Spender had done.

"Scully, I-" he started, stopping when he watched her close her eyes.

"I don't want what Spender did to impact our relationship," she admitted, hoping her double meaning was clear.

Don't be mad at me.

Don't let Spender be the reason you say anything you can't take back.

He nodded, their unspoken communication honed from seven years of experience making him fluent in the unsaid. He released his hold on her and she looked at her watch unnecessarily.

"I-I'm running late. I should go," she murmured.

She knew Mulder knew that wasn't true, but he let her go anyway.

He knew the truth would come out soon enough.

[beomglocks]

what beomgyu is like as a boyfriend

warnings & other: no warnings, its just that i wrote this at like 4am, very on brand for me i know, it’s unnecessarily long and i think i just went on a tangent about how beomgyu is the ideal boyfriend

w/c: 1k if we’re rounding

let’s have a look at what our choi beomgyu is like a boyfriend, shall we?

how could anyone think beomgyu is cold

yeah maybe when you first meet him he’s all like

(T_T)

you seriously think he hates you or something or that he’s super uninterested

i mean but even then he can’t keep up the facade, he tries to be polite and you know he’s smiley 

but after you really get to know him it’s like

“my god help me”

he’s an extrovert and an 01′ liner its in his blood (rip me who’s introvert and 01′)

you’re either super alike or super different than him

no in between

but i think he lowkey vibes with people who are opposite from him

it’s a good balance

if you’re naturally calm boom he’s hooked

because he can annoy you and knows you won’t get heated too easily

if you’re alike then expect arguments

not too many serious arguments but arguments over which meat to eat for instance

to be honest i can’t see beomgyu actually arguing with anyone but man

if you’re like him i’m telling you right now

prepare for trouble make it double

he sticks his tongue out at you

you do it back

him: “don’t you think you’re being too mean” (￣ε ￣)

clowns you

literally clowns you for everything you do

this dude won’t let you live

trying to learn his part in a dance?

him: “you look so silly lol”

*bursts out in laughter*

also him: “if you wanted me to teach you you could’ve just asked”

calls you a fucking idiot

for anything...literally any little slip up

he better not catch you slipping

ok maybe not a fucking idiot but its pretty close

not in a “im fed up with you” way

its more like a “you’re an idiot but you’re my idiot” way

and likewise

but don’t take it to heart

that’s his way of flirting

phrases include (but not limited to):

“you’re so dumb you’re lucky i like you”

“you’re so stupid but that’s your charm and i love you for it”

“fool”

WAIT,, he doesnt mean it in a condesending way, he thinks you’re actually very smart (●ˇ∀ˇ●)

ok but

hoodie season?

don’t even try it

you know how he looks so cuddly in his sweaters

those are literally his safe haven

don’t try to take them

him: “isn’t that my sweater?”

him: “THAT WAS MY FAVORITE ONE” ╰（‵□′）╯

(the grey one)

plays guitar for you

like yeah

shocker

he can actually get really soft

he’s not a complete meanie

super cuddly

rests his head on you at random times

because the boy sleepy

he work hard he sleep o(一︿一+)o

on his off days you have to console him

words of assurance will do!

“cheer up gyu! you did great today!”

“hey dont forget im always here when you need me”

when he’s down and you’re trying to cheer him up he seems like the type to laugh at your attempts rather than the actual thing idk

you have to compliment him

him: “i look good right”

you: “no”

“Shut up”

“you shut up”

him: “just admit you like me so much” 〒▽〒

super playful relationship

but super chill at the same time

like yeah it’s fun and games

but when it comes down to it

he’s someone who can trust in with your secrets and hardships

like maybe he’s experienced what you’re going through and can give you tips

you guys just help each other out all the time it’s honestly wholesome asf

your friends think you hate each other

oh no sweetie we just seem like it but we’re super tight knit

skinship

skinship

dude won’t leave you alone

and likewise

he’s gotta be touching you in someway for comfort

or just to annoy you

if you have thick thighs, good luck charlie

rests his head on them

squeezes them but not in any kind of sexual way

you: “stop”

him: *sighs* “but i like them” /_ \

falls asleep on you a lot

wants you to run your hands through his hair

he’s out like a light after that

his hair

just run your hands through his hair

careful though because when he’s cranky he doesn’t really want you to touch him

but he gets free passes to touch you

*im mad so don’t touch me but let me back hug you while you do everyday mundane things*

best hugs

BEST HUGS

introducing you to the members good god help him

him: “so this is my significant other”

txt: “wait you have a partner????”

just to tease him you go along with it

you: “hahah yeah i know right”

gets mad at you but like not for real

he can take jokes

smacks your arm playfully

him: “i hate you i knew this was a bad idea”

you: “nah you really like me”

him: “you like me mo-”

txt: *gagging noises*

random kisses

he be kissing you at random times

fuck having 10 reasons to kiss you

he’s got 1 million!

not the jealous type

he’s territorial but not crazy jealous

won’t step out of line but will remind the person involved that you’re his if he has to

i think he just knows you wont ever cheat on him so he trusts you but he doesn’t trust everyone else

you might be insecure because you know it’s beomgyu we’re talking about

but don’t worry he’s only yours, he’s always showing you that

uses his satoori on you when he wants something

him: you think this looks good on me?”

you: “it looks terrible”

him: “im definitely wearing it now”

pesters you afterwards because he can

you guys just love each other so much it’s actually gross