#the look on his face. he's like 'what sh*t is this man on someone tell me pls'

[theinfinitedivides]

Jun Mo the moment Ki Cheol asked him to help him get together with his own wife:

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Spending the night at Simon's for the first time and him waking up to you in nothing but his oversized t shirt

Request from here

***

Eyes blinking as light filtered through his closed lids, Simon began to stir as the first bit of the days brightness filled the small bedroom of his tiny apartment. Slowly those thick, long limbs of his stretched their compressed muscles back to life as the blood flowed through them.

Turning over, he was surprised that there wasn't another body laying next to him under the covers; your bright eyes and warm smile were what he had planned to gaze upon, but there was no one. That put him a little on edge, this being the first time you'd stayed over at his shitty little apartment, but he tried to keep calm until he was fully awake.

Simon moved up onto his elbow as he lay on his side, his large hand rubbing the rest of the sleep that lingered from out of his eyes. He looked about, trying to find any signs of you: your discarded clothes from the night before lay in a pile on the floor right next to your shoes, your earrings still sat on the bedside table, and as he checked the mattress with his hand he found that it was still warm. It was obvious you were still around, he just had to go and find you.

A full yawn passed his lips before he heard the sound of clinks and taps, bangs and rustling coming from towards the kitchen area. So that's where you'd sulked off to, making breakfast no doubt.

God you were too fucking much, he wasn't used to all this sweetness, but he wouldn't change it for anything.

Carefully and quietly he moved out of the bed, scratching at the sparse covering of hair on his bare chest before he stood and straightened his sweatpants around his hips. He was hoping he could surprise you by showing up to catch you in the act.

With easy steps, Simon walked out of the bedroom towards the kitchen and what he saw standing there amidst pots and pans, a stack of toast and a pile of bacon to your right, it took his goddamn breath away.

The expectation was to find you naked, since the only clothes you had were still on his bedroom floor, but that wasn't what he found at all. Your hair had been pulled up, a few stray hairs poking out around your hairline that hadn't been secured and it looked like the only thing you had on was one of his old baggy t shirts.

As you moved, Simon could just see a peak of the underside of your ass pop through the bottom of the shirt, playing peakaboo with him the longer he looked. The lines of your legs, looked even longer as the shirt sat just below your hips. Those juicy limbs looked good enough to eat, bare and glaring back at him.

Fuck, you had never been more beautiful to him; it nearly made his goddamn heart stop beating. Being a big man had its perks and this was one of the best ones he found, that you were able to wear his clothes.

In that moment as he watched you happily go about your work, looking like a comfy dream, images of you doing this full time flooded Simon's mind and his stomach flipped excitedly at the thought. If there was anyone that could make that rough and brazen military man soft, it was you.

And maybe it was about time he let someone do it...

There was a sudden warmness against your back as two bulky arms wrapped themselves around your from behind, making you jump a little at the surprise. " 'mornin, luv," Simon's husky voice hit your ears before his kiss touched your cheek. "See you've made yourself at home."

You leaned into him, enjoying the warmth he still had from being wrapped up tight in the covers moments before. "I just...I wanted to do something nice for you, make us breakfast," you said, giving the eggs in the pan currently in your grasp a flip.

"Pretty sure you do more than enough for a bastard like me," he chuckled as one of those thick mitts moved down and cupped lightly over your sex. "This is all I need to stay well fuckin' fed."

Immediately the heat rose in your cheeks, flushing your face bright red.

"But I meant my shirt," he continued, secretly smiling from ear to ear at how quickly he had you blushing. Certain, heavy movements from his hands flitted across your torso as he rubbed over the lines of your curves through the familiar fabric of his clothing.

"Oh, sorry," you quickly apologized, thinking you had possibly overstepped, "I hope you don't mind, I just needed something and it was just there in the top drawer and..."

Another kiss on your cheek shut you right up. "Look fuckin' good like this, luv," he purred in your ear, his low, gravely morning voice making you shiver.

"Really?" you asked, glad that he wasn't mad you'd commendeered his clothes; in reality you knew it would be nothing, but this being the first time you'd done this, you still had some giddy nervousness about everything.

"Ya look like a fuckin' picture to me," he reiterated, those full lips moving down to your next now as he leaned more against you. "I thought I looked good in this thing, but it ain't nothin' compared to a fuckin' vixen like you."

You giggled playfully at all the sweet praise. Nearly missing the eggs being done, you turned off the stove and set the aside until you both were ready to eat. "Please, I look like hell."

"Bullshit," he said as he turned you around, picked up you, and placed your butt on top of the nearest countertop. He slid in between your open legs, letting his hands run down your side from where he had lifted you, sliding tenderly over the shirt. He was right, you were naked save for the shirt and that did something to his still sleepy brain.

Greedily he tilted his head and leaned up into you, embracing your mouth fully with all of his and making your lips dance together. Feverish and sloppy Simon connected with your lips again and again, making your still sleepy brain flatline.

If you could wake up every day like this it would be a fucking living dream.

His kisses would not let up as he pulled you in closer, his hands running over the curves of your back as he stole your lips with a lazy intensity.

"Breakfast is gonna get cold," you groaned with eyes closed, mouthing the words against his parted lips.

His hips bucked into your own. "Nah, my breakfast feels mighty fuckin' warm to me, luv," he said as he kept right at it.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Can You Stay?

Olivia Benson x fem!reader

Warnings: sexual assault/rape (not graphic or anything, this takes place after the fact), trauma, hospitals, rape kit, established relationship, hurt/comfort, some explicit language, brief mentions of self-harm

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: You're assaulted by a man the SVU just can't seem to convict. Olivia is used to victims, she's used to the aftermath of a rape. She's not used to walking through it with someone she loves as much as you.

“Let me see her!” Olivia yelled, shoving Fin so hard he slammed into a wall.

“Liv, you can’t be here as a cop,” Elliot argued, holding her back.

Olivia ran her hands through her hair, angry beyond reason and worried out of her mind. “I’m not, Elliot! I’m here because my girlfriend got raped. Now get the fuck out of my way so I can take care of her!”

Elliot lifted his hands in surrender. “Alright, just… you gotta let us do our job, okay?”

Olivia shoved past him and into your apartment, desperate to find you, to see you, to hold you and protect you. When she found you, shaking and huddled in a corner of your bedroom, it shattered her, but she didn’t feel sad, not yet. That would come soon, she knew. What she felt now was blinding, white hot anger at the man who’d done this to you.

You were so traumatized you didn’t even seem to notice her. Your eyes were glazed over, and you rocked back and forth, your head banging lightly into the wall each time. Munch sat on a corner of your bed, and Olivia looked at him, silently asking if you’d said anything yet. John shook his head. So it had just been the 9-1-1 call so far then.

Olivia lowered herself onto the floor next to you, careful not to touch you, to frighten you. Your hair was dripping wet, and the water had blotched your t-shirt. Her stomach sank. It was him again–Cleary–she just knew it.

“Sweetheart,” she started, her voice soft, looking into your blurry eyes. “It’s just me.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at her, but your eyes filled with tears, and you started banging your head against the wall with more force.

Olivia placed her hand between your head and the wall to soften the blows. You wanted to hurt yourself. You wanted to hurt so much that you forgot what had come before. But you couldn’t bear to hurt Olivia. You put your head in your hands instead and when you finally spoke, your voice was small and hoarse.

“I can’t stop shaking.”

“It’s okay,” she soothed, still not touching you. She’d let you initiate touch if you wanted to. “That’s normal. You’re in shock, okay, baby? It’ll pass.”

“He came in my window, Liv,” you stuttered, unable to breathe deeply enough, your fingers tingling with the lack of oxygen. “He came in my window. I thought it was locked. It– it sh– should have– been l–locked.”

You scrunched your eyes shut and shrunk into Olivia, her arms wrapping firmly and protectively around you as you buried your face in her neck and gasped for breath. She rubbed your back, resting her chin on the top of your head.

“Shh,” she whispered. “Just breathe, baby, breathe.”

Elliot entered the room and sat on the bed with John. Olivia met his eyes, and she saw that he hated to do this. They were always aware of the ways in which an investigation might come off as insensitive to the victim. In fact, they did everything they could to be kind and empathetic and caring. But it had never been clearer than it was now that questions and probing, while necessary, would likely only make your horrific night worse. 

You coughed, trying to desperately get enough air, the room swirling around you. You tried, you tried so hard to fight the darkening edges of your consciousness, but you couldn’t breathe. The last thing you remembered before blacking out was grabbing onto Olivia’s jacket.

“Shit,” Olivia muttered, as your body fell limp against her. “El–”

“On it,” he said, pulling out his radio and walking to the living room. “Yeah, we need a bus at Mott and Spring. Unconscious female. Rape victim, panic attack.”

Olivia laid you gently on the ground, brushing your hair out of your face and placing her fingers on your neck to ensure you had a pulse. It was hard to pass out from a panic attack–which showed just how scared you were. She sighed and watched you, holding back tears, as she brushed her thumbs back and forth across your wrist. She wanted to feel your heartbeat. Just to be safe.

“You okay?” John asked her.

Olivia shook her head, biting her lip. “No.” She smiled wryly, her eyes wet. “But I am dangerously close to committing a felony.”

“We’ll get him, Liv,” John assured her.

“We haven’t yet.”

“We will.”

When you jerked awake, gasping, your heart still racing, Olivia squeezed your hands and bent down close to you. “Hey,” she soothed. “Hey, you’re okay. It’s okay. I’m right here. Just keep breathing.”

She lifted your head onto her lap and you curled into yourself, your hand gripping tightly to hers. When the paramedics came, you shrank away from them and into Olivia, who might very well have assaulted an EMT to keep anyone from touching you and further traumatizing you.

“Can you walk?” she asked, and you nodded. “I got her,” she said forcefully to the paramedic who reached out for your arm.

Olivia walked you out of the room, out of your apartment, down the elevator, and into the back of the ambulance. She never once let you go, never once removed her arm from around your shoulder, glaring bullets at anyone who even came close to you.

Rape kits were always hard, no matter who the victim was, but it was excruciatingly hard now that it was you. Olivia almost couldn’t look at you as you talked the doctor at the ER through your assault. She wanted to cry, she wanted to shoot something, she wanted to hold you and never let you go. She would do anything, anything, to go back in time and have you stay at her place instead. Or, even better, to have been at yours so she could have shot the son of a bitch in self-defense. She didn’t know if she’d ever forgive herself for not being there.

You cried when they swabbed you, your body tensing in panic, hand squeezing Olivia’s so hard that little half moons formed on her skin under your nails. Olivia looked at the ceiling, willing herself not to cry. She felt like her heart was being fed through a shredder. It hurt more than anything, hurt so bad she was nearly bent over with it, to watch you cry. To watch your body flinch away from touch and comfort. To watch you poked and prodded and examined under the harsh fluorescent lights, the smell of alcohol sterilizer permeating everything, when you had already been through so much.

When they finally discharged you, Olivia pulled your softest, most oversized t-shirt and sweatpants out of her bag. She’d brought them from your apartment, knowing that they’d take your clothes for evidence. She dressed you gently, carefully, your eyes bloodshot, face streaked and puffy from tears.

She had Elliot drive you both to her apartment in a squad car, knowing you wouldn’t want to see anyone else, that you wouldn't be able to stomach a cab or the subway.

In the apartment, you sat on the edge of her bed, face blank, terrified to go to sleep. You couldn’t say anything, couldn’t speak. It was as if, after telling what had happened, your voice had switched off.

Olivia brushed your hair out of your face, bending down to look into your eyes.

“Do you think you can try to sleep, sweetheart?”

You nodded, exhaustion hitting you hard as the hours of adrenaline started to wear off. You crawled into bed, and Olivia pulled the covers over you. You struggled to keep your eyelids open, and Olivia gently kissed your forehead.

“Go to sleep, baby,” she whispered. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, I promise.”

You grabbed her hand as she stood to leave, turning off the light.

“Can you stay?” you whimpered, tears welling up again, no matter how hard you tried to fight them.

Olivia wordlessly lifted the covers and pulled your body into hers, and you breathed easy for the first time in hours. Her arms were strong around you, her heartbeat sure and steady, hands soft as they ran through your hair. And you knew, you knew, that she would keep you safe.

[beesspacedotorg]

Handle With Care

Summary: You've had a truly awful day, luckily, your adoring boyfriend Minho is there to make it better. 2.5k words

Warnings: there's sex, but honestly it feels like someone accidentally got porn in my fluff so do with that what you will. reader is as gender neutral as physically possible. reader is also lowkey a crybaby, sorry but actually I'm not

Notes: Hello adoring public. It turns out, I can write fanfiction, and with the encouragement of Juno and Ems, I can also post it! There is a cat in this, she was inspired by a cat my family used to have and a cat my family currently has. They're both calico which I think explains everything you need to know about them.

There’s a lot you can say about the day you had today, and most of them start with sh- and end in -itty. You’re thinking on this as you dive head first onto the rough material of your couch, great for sitting, bad for face planting. You hear a scratching by your head and absentmindedly bat your cat away from the arm of the couch, mumbling something about how she has a perfectly good cat tree two feet away before resuming your completely justified sulking.

“Oh, hello. I didn’t hear you come home. How was your day?” There’s a voice above you and you can picture him in your mind's eye, leaning against the back of the couch as he stares at your limp form, probably eyeing the shoes you didn’t take off by the door. You mumble something half hearted in response and he huffs before the sound of walking hits your ears and all the breath leaves your body at once. He’s sitting on you. This motherfucker is sitting on you.

“Get off, Minho” You had to tilt your head to the side, it’s hard enough to breathe through couch fabric as is, much less when there’s a full grown man sitting on your back.

“You should answer people when they try to talk to you, jagiya.”

“You shouldn’t sit on people while they’re laying down, yeobo.” Your voice is a lot more acidic than his was and a twinge of guilt settles on you before it dissipates as he shifts and manages to place more weight on your back.

“Hmm. I guess we’re both doing things that we shouldn’t then. How tragic.” His voice is deadpan, and you still can’t see him from where your head is turned- your view is limited to the back of the couch and his arm in your periphery- but you can feel the dead stare he’s aiming at your skull. There’s a silence for a few moments while you engage in a war of attrition, neither of you willing to give up just yet, but it’s getting genuinely hard to breathe and your back is starting to hurt.

“It sucked, please get off.” He does, patting your back consolingly.

“See? Was that so hard?” He guides your head to his lap as you both sit back down, petting over your hair like he would his cats. “Tell me, what’s got my baby in such a tizzy?”

You grumble at him, rolling over to shove your face into his stomach, tired and petulant. He sighs softly, but keeps patting your head, so you know he’s mostly just doing it for show.

“That kind of day, hmm, jagi?” And you nod again. Honestly, it wasn’t much different from a normal day, it’s just that the right things managed to go very wrong and subsequently ruined your day in a way that has pressure forming behind your eyes and your voice cracking stupidly every time you try to talk.

You both sit for a while before he puts something on the TV and gently shoves your head off his lap.

“Hey-”

“Do you want the dinner I worked so hard on to go cold?” He has his hands on his hips in front of you and you laugh slightly at how funny he looks. He rolls his eyes and goes, coming back with two bowls of something before he forcefully sits you up and shoves it in your hands.

“Eat.”

“Yes, chef.”

The food is delicious, it always is when Minho cooks it, he’s got a talent for it you’ve never really seen firsthand, and you consider yourself truly blessed to be able to eat it as often as he’s able to make it for you. Still, gratefulness and taste aside, your day was shitty enough that every mouthful tastes like ash and turns to rot in your stomach, leaving you with an unsettling queasiness that shouldn’t ever be attributed to your boyfriend’s cooking. You’re shoving the contents around with a spoon before he huffs- a real one this time- and takes the bowl from you, setting it on the coffee table next to his own before he mutes the TV.

“Okay. Quite clearly something is wrong. What can I do to help you?” You think he knows, but you like that he asks anyway. Minho always asks, always lets you talk and sort out whatever’s going on before he tries to help. Even if your answer is a simple shake of the head, a simple, I don’t feel like it, become a mind reader, he always asks before he helps. Sometimes you wonder how he always knows what you need, others you just decide to not look a gift horse in the mouth.

You huff and your lip wobbles pathetically and he coos, slightly condescending.

“Crying already? I haven’t even done anything.” He’s teasing, but his hands are gentle as he pulls you into his lap, his hands are gentle as they find their way under your shirt, his mouth is gentle as it kisses down the side of your face to your neck.

“‘M sorry,” you’re not the biggest fan of crying, neither is he, but for different reasons. He’s not someone who’s brought to tears easily, you are, but there’s an inherent shame in it, you think. Something so embarrassing about getting worked up enough to start crying like a baby, and so as much and as often as you feel like crying, you don’t. This he also knows, because he knows everything.

“Aish, why are you sorry for? I didn’t tell you to apologize, did I?” He taps your cheek lightly, causing you to look up at him, he plants a kiss on your nose, then your mouth.

“Sweet thing, don’t worry about anything except for what I tell you to, okay?” And you nod and he smiles.

You’re not much for talking in times like these, everything is so sensitive and soft and talking feels like a cheese grater on this cloudlike moment so you don’t and he knows, so he doesn’t chide you for it. Usually, he would. He’d crack a hand down on your ass or grab a fistful of your hair and tell you that he asked you a question so he expects an answer, but that’s not what you need right now, so he doesn’t. He just kisses your jaw again before he puts both of his warm hands under your shirt and lets his fingers poke at your chest.

He always says his hands are small, but really, you wouldn’t be able to tell, not with the way he cups your chest in his hand and lets his thumb brush over your nipple, gentle and reverent. It’s not much, not as much as he usually gives you, but it’s enough to have your mouth dropping open with a gasp and your back arching into his hand, it’s enough to have him giggling softly at your reaction.

“Sensitive today?” He’s teasing again, as soft as he is right now, he’s still Minho, he still likes to poke fun. You huff, biting at his shoulder softly in retaliation and he lets you, pinching your nipple just this side of too much in retribution before one of his hands wanders down to your ass, groping and squishing the flesh. Your breath stutters in your chest as he pushes your hips forward onto his, friction sending sparks up your spine.

“Min-” You���re desperate and he hasn’t even done anything yet, not really. A few stray touches and you already feel yourself shattering to pieces in his grasp, you’re not afraid though, and not quite ashamed. He’ll take care of you, he always does.

He does it again, guides your hips forward until you’ve gotten the hint to keep going by yourself and you’re struck with the urge to kiss him, so you do, removing your head from the home it’s made on his shoulder and making a go at his mouth. It’s messy, your coordination shot already, and you almost smash your forehead into his nose before he catches your head with a laugh.

“Easy there. Bloody noses aren’t exactly sexy.” You disagree, he could make anything sexy, but you don’t have time to voice that thought as he pushes his mouth onto yours and lovingly shoves his tongue down your throat. The kiss is messy, they always are. However gentle he is, he can never seem to stop himself from kissing you until your face is covered in drool and spit, and if it were anyone else, you’d be mildly repulsed, but you like the way he looks at your mouth after it’s over, so you let it slide. 

You pull away, chest burning and heaving and look at him before you still, eyes drawn to something by his head.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” You don’t answer, gaze still drawn away from him.

“There’s a little white girl staring at me.” He turns his head to the side and laughs as he comes face to face with your cat, her green eyes boring into him. He scratches her head affectionately and lets her headbutt him before your center of gravity is shifting drastically and you’re clinging onto him for dear life.

The bedroom door shuts before you’re very aware of it and suddenly there’s a mattress under your back and a Minho over your front and his hands are up your shirt again, this time shoving it off of you until your chest is bare. You shiver slightly from the cold and then there’s a blanket being shoved around your shoulders and you smile up at him. He knows you so well, he loves you so much and your eyes are welling with tears.

“Aigoo, my little crybaby. It’s just a blanket,” there’s a kiss on each of your cheek bones, “silly thing. Save your tears for when my cock is in you, hmm?” Your breath stutters again and your hands are tugging at his shirt until he takes it off, he laughs again when your hands immediately find his chest.

“I’m glad someone appreciates my hard work.”

“They’re nice boobs.” The sentence catches him off guard, makes him laugh hard enough that he loses his balance a little and his weight settles onto you more. It’s comforting, like a weighted blanket that can talk and walk and kiss you silly.

Then, his hands are under your bottoms, tugging them off your legs and you’re suddenly wearing nothing and he’s still in his pants, which you find disgustingly unfair. You reach down and tug on the hem off his sweats, pouting and huffing until he gets the message and tugs those off too.

“You just want to get me naked,” he starts. “I can’t believe you just want me for my body.” You nod cheekily in response and he smacks your shoulder.

“Yah! See if I’m ever nice to you again!” But he’s kissing your neck again as his hands guide your legs to cross over his hips before he’s touching you in a way that steals the breath from your lungs and makes your head tip back into the pillows.

“There we go. So pretty when you’re like this, hmm? So soft and sweet for me.” His fingers are in you now, pressing insistently against that spot that makes white splash in your vision and reflexively forces your legs shut. He grunts slightly as your thighs squeeze around his hips, pressure just this side of uncomfortable. He doesn’t say anything though, just keeps his pace steady inside you until you’re almost tipping over and he stops. You look at him with something akin to betrayal, fresh tears springing to your eyes, but before you can open your mouth to complain he’s sliding home and you don’t have enough air to say anything anyway.

He catches it though, rolls his eyes as he sees the way your attitude was about to flare up.

“What did I tell you earlier, jagiya? Don’t worry about anything unless I tell you to worry about it. I always take care of you, don’t I?” He does, he’s good to you like that. He sounds slightly out of breath already, unusual for him, but you don’t mind because it feels like you’re seconds away from God’s doorstep yourself.

His pace is slow and deep, bass knock steady even as you squirm under him. If this were a normal situation, he’d stop, hands gripping your hips unforgivingly until you stayed still, but this isn’t a normal situation so he lets you wiggle, only huffing in mild irritation before he leans down to kiss you again.

“You’re gonna knock us off the damn bed, baby.” But he doesn’t make any move to stop you, and you feel too good to really process his words anyway. You love him, you really do, and you’re struck with the overwhelming urge to tell him, to let him know, to make him know. You grip his shoulders tightly, nails digging in until he hisses and levels you with a glare, one that instantly softens when he meets your eyes.

“I love you,” it comes out of you as a sob, like it was wrenched from your vocal chords before you gave yourself permission to think it. “I love you so much.” You’re rambling now, repeating those three words over and over and Minho coos, hips faltering just slightly. He always goes weak when you tell him you love him, and you keep it in your back pocket like a weapon for the times that you’re in trouble.

“I love you, too, jagiya. ‘S that why you’re crying? Hmm? Love me so much it’s gotta spill out from your pretty eyes?” You nod in response, breath hitching from the pleasure and the tears and his hand drifts from its place on your hip to touch you again and you’re spilling liquid heat before you can really register what’s happening. You feel him inside you, too, insides suddenly molten warm but you’re floating too high for it to feel like it’s happening to you, like you’ve been temporarily ejected from your body.

When your soul settles back into your bones, Minho is laying next to you, staring at you with his wide eyes, you look over at him and smile.

“Is boba really worth it?” He looks confused at your question before you poke him on the eyelid and he laughs.

“Feel better?” You consider for a moment. Your teeth don’t feel like they’re too big for their sockets and your bones no longer feel itchy. You’re hungry, but mostly, your mind is quiet. There’s no overwhelming pressure behind your eyes and when you talk your voice cracks from sleep instead of from the force of choking back tears.

“Much. I’m hungry, though.” You give your best impression of puppy eyes at him and watch as his eyes roll to the back of his skull. You’ve been told that your pleading face looks mildly perturbing, but Minho always says you remind him of Soonie when you do it. It makes you feel slightly bad for Soonie, soon the cat isn’t going to be able to get anything off of Minho because you’ll have rendered him immune.

He comes back with your reheated bowl in one hand and your cat in the other.

“She screamed at me until I picked her up. Stood on my feet and hollered.” He winces slightly. “I should’ve put on boxers because she almost mistook my dick for a toy.”

[fisshbones]

Hcs of some Hoyoverse characters!!

ft!! Heizou, Sunday, Scaramouche/Wanderer, Furina, Sampo, Xiao, & Pela

Genre: fluff/crack!! No warnings that I can think of besides of being mildly ooc and some being shorter than others. Could be read as platonic. Modern Au Gn! Reader.

Heizou ->

Has thousands and thousands of screenshots, pictures, and videos saved on his phone. Refuses to delete them because “you never know, they might come in use later.” Once in a VERY LONG while does his habit actually pay off. He’s paying for the cloud subscription service 1000% If he doesn’t his phone is borderline useless. If you go through it you’ll wonder how he finds jack sh*t in that phone, there’s no organization on/in that thing. That being said he doesn’t need to put things in separate albums because he had absolutely no issues with finding what he needs. (he’s literally me)

Sunday ->

Sunday likes to tend to his multiple gardens back where he lives. There’s two green houses back at his home. One is his and one belongs to his dear sister. If you want one too, he’ll gladly make some plans for yours next. When him or Robin can’t tend to the flowers, he has a gardener come tend to them in the meantime. While all of them brings joy to him he has a special soft spot for (white) calla lilies and spider mums.

Scaramouche/Wanderer ->

The definition of an annoying menace. He’ll put sticky notes with (sometimes with writing) on your back without you knowing. He used to do this to Childe too, only when it was Childe it would be way meaner. One fool read the ‘kick me’ note on his back and actually did it. Poor idiot guy learned a lesson that day. The worst he’s put on your back was a note with a stupid face on it. And if someone makes fun of you for it, he’ll give them a black eye! He’s the only one allowed to be an ass to you. :)

Furina ->

Does catwalk struts in her mirror when no one is home. She gets wayyyyy too into it. She’ll start on one side of the house and when she gets to her mirror she’ll strike a pose. One time you walked into her standing in front of the mirror doing pose 28. She couldn’t look into your eyes for a week afterwards. If you ask her to give her a lil show, she’ll do it but don’t laugh cause she might cry. lol. (she’s so me coded)

Sampo ->

He plays those driving games with the steering wheel and all. Sampo started streaming it too to make some hot cash$$ This man is DEDICATED to the act he preforms while streaming this game. If he gets into an accident in the game he makes it look like it happened irl too. He’s given himself whiplash from how fast and hard he slammed himself in his chair. think this.

Xiao->

BIG CONCERT FAN!!! Hates the crowds so much though (T ^ T) He’s so not a people person. Always manages to get great seats for you guys. He’s willing to see any performer if it’s for you, even if it’s not someone he likes. I personally see him as liking every genre of music, so there’s a fat chance he’ll still like the music being played. Xiao would put you on his shoulders if you ask him too. But I can’t guarantee you’ll be able to see any better this way because of how short he is.

Pela ->

Pela makes a crap ton of edits and fanfics. Any where between thirst edits and angst edits of anime characters. She’s got over 50k followers just waiting for her to drop the newest robin or satosugu edit. She’s also got of followers on the platform she posts her fanfics on. She’s big on x readers AND ship fics. That girl puts in work making sure both her edits and fics are absolutely perfect.

If you enjoyed likes/reblogs/replies are appreciated!!

fisshbones © 2024 do not repost or translate

[szasfuckingwife]

GUESS WE BOTH AIN’T SH*T

YAKUZA!TOJI FUSHIGURO X FEM!READER

SYNOPSIS: YOU AND TOJI’S RELATIONSHIPS HAS SEEN ITS FAIR SHARE OF ARGUMENTS. AFTER HE CHEATS, AND AFTER YOU DO THE SAME, YOU ARE REMINDED OF WHAT DREW YOU TO HIM INITIALLY.

WARNINGS: Smut, Swearing, Toxic relationship, Toji Fushiguro

It’s 11pm at night and you are sat in Toji’s bathtub. He’s been out all night, leaving you in his luxurious apartment alone. When it comes to you and Toji, things are certainly complicated. There are those nights where you’re both laid up on his (extra) king sized bed and he’s promising you marriage, kids and a better life.

But there are also nights like when he called you whilst another girl’s mouth was around his dick. It alright though because you made it equal by sleeping with one of his partners.

That was just how you and Toji operated: he’d cheat, you’d cheat back, he gets jealous, you get angry at his jealousy.

Then, you fuck, he gets you flowers and jewellery and repeat!

As you soak yourself in the bathtub, a twang of sadness upsets you. The thought of such a toxic relationship never crossed your mind when you were younger. Toji was so sweet in the beginning, what went wrong?

Suddenly, you hear the door slam. Knowing that your boyfriend is home, you take another sip of your wine before getting out of the bath.

“Babe?”, he yells to no answer. You roll your eyes and wrap your naked body with the fluffy white robe.

The raven haired man smirks as he sees you walk towards him, “How’s my girl?”. His open arms are slapped away by you, earning a grunt.

Toji’s not one to back down from a challenge, especially from you. He watched as you put the wine bottle back in it’s cabinet, chuckling at how you can’t quite reach the top.

“Don’t wanna ask for help?” Toji asks, taking off his jacket. “What’s up with you?”

You scoff, “What’s up with me? Seriously? It’s almost midnight.”

A sigh escapes his lips. He knows exactly how to make you putty in his hands, but you don’t let him, “I was caught up… business-”

“You can cut all that bullshit right now because Sukuna said you were at the club.” You cut him off.

He stands across from you with a smirk on his face. For the first time in years, Toji Fushiguro was silenced. He had nothing to say, no excuses, nothing. “Sorry?”

“Fuck you.” Every emotion within you is amplified by his stupid response. Why does he have to look so good whilst being so annoying? It’d be a lie to say you hate him, you love him more than life but it’s like he wanted you to hate him.

Toji follows you to the bedroom, trying to grab your arm when you pull away, “Babe, look at me. Stop. Stop!”

“You always do this shit, Toji! Just tell me, were you fucking someone else tonight?!”

A scoff erupts from his mouth. You must be stupid if you think you can challenge him, Toji thinks. “You’re forgetting that you were the one who actually fucked someone else first.”

He meets the back of your head as you begin to pace around the room. Toji knows exactly what buttons to press and on any other day, his teasing would get you wet. But not today. “You called me whilst getting head from a bitch!”

“You sent me a video of you fucking Shiu!” He chuckles, “We’re even!”

You roll your eyes, “That was an accident! Toji, get over it!”

Another chuckle emits from him, “And if a girl sucked my dick tonight, that was an accident too…”

He watched as you open your mouth to say something but he quickly stops you, “But no one sucked my dick! You need to trust me, Y/N.”

“Fuck off. I’ll never trust you!” With some bravery, you get into Toji’s face, as if you’re trying to intimidate him. If Toji wasn’t so pissed off, he’d laugh at how cute you look. But Toju was mad, fuming even.

“And I could never marry a bitch like you-” “Thank God!” You smirk, “Shiu’s cock was bigger anyway-”

Suddenly, Toji’s lips press against yours, forcibly. His kisses aren’t as soft and chaste as you remember, this one feels like he hates you. And, honestly, something inside you feels like you hate him.

But you kiss him anyway.

The feeling of his lips on yours is short as he finds his way to your neck. His hands quickly travel to the strings of your robe, unravelling it to expose your naked, scented, smooth body.

“Fuckin hell…” he whispers. “You’re so sexy, baby..”

“Shut up..!” You moan lowly as you feel his hands on your breasts. He slowly guides you to the bed, pushing you back and spreading your legs.

Both of your eyes are locked on each other as he licks the tips of his fingers and slowly circles your clit. A whimper leaves your lips at the feeling of Toji. As previously stated, Toji knows exactly what buttons to press.

“Toji….fuck!”

“It feels good, huh, baby?” He whispers in your ear as his fingers pick up the pace. By now, you’re practically soaking the sheets. The pleasure that your boyfriend was giving you mixed with the feeling of jealousy made you feel much more weak than you did before.

“You see, this is how it is with you. You can’t have your cake,” He halts his movements, “And eat it too…”

You whine loudly, “Toji..”

This is exactly what Toji did best, punish you. You had another mans dick in you and ‘accidentally’ sent him the video of it?

Yes, he said it’s all in the past. Yes, it happened months ago. But Toji can forgive. What he can’t do is forget.

The sadistic Yakuza boss continued his game with you. Edging you until you felt close to making a mess all over his silk sheets just before pulling away and ripping that feeling away from you.

It wasn’t long before you were a fucked out mess below him. “I need to cum, Toji. Please, I’m sorry…” a helpless cry came out of you.

All he had to do was kiss your forehead and you knew that he’d finally grant you your wish.

He lowered himself in line with your sopping, wet pussy before hungrily eating you out. You could feel his tongue inside you whilst his other hand was still focused on your clit.

Involuntarily, your hand seeps it’s way into his messy locks, gripping them tightly. You can feel his smirk against your sex as you chant for him to ‘not stop’.

And, as before, Toji grant’s your wish.

“I’m cumminnngh..!” You moan uncontrollably. His tongue is still relentless in fucking you. The feeling of cumming isn’t new to you, especially when Toji’s mad. There’s an extra sense of passion involved.

As Toji slowly rose back up to your face, you notice how your slick glistens on his face. He looks so beautiful like this, you think. Immediately, his lips are on yours, the taste of yourself lingering on both your lips.

“See what you do to me? Hm?” He says in between kisses, “Take your ass to bed…”

However, something sparks inside you when he says that. You can’t just let him win. He’ll be a cocky bastard in the morning. You have to put him in his place.

You discreetly find a way to get on top of him mid make out, his hands gripping your sides. You felt every fibre of clothing on him, especially against your skin.

It irked you so badly, you wanted to feel his skin, his scars, his tattoos. Everything about him was everything you’ve ever dreamed for in a man.

“I want this off,” You whisper against his lips, tugging at his bottoms, “Now..”

He does as you say almost instantly, his thick cock springing out in the process. “You got hard from us arguing..?”

“As if you didn’t practically squirt in my mouth after we argued.”

Touché.

With one hand behind you, you aligned his hard cock to your pussy, slowly pushing it in. A satisfied moan escaped both of your lips, this was that feeling you both were yearning for.

All the sass, the arguments, the lying, name calling…you know why you stay with him, for moments like this.

Toji’s hips roll up into yours, hitting you exactly where you want it. You take his hand and put some of his fingers in your mouth, sucking them.

But then, you placed your hands on his shoulders and began to ride him feverishly. Toji was in awe of how energetic you were, and how the plush of your ass looked in the mirror behind.

“Shit, Y/N…”

“Can those bitches do it like me…?” You whisper in his ear.

“I don’t let them…this is all yours..” He whimpers back to you.

You smile knowing damn well you won.

[cherryredstars]

OMG I SAW YOUR REQUEST IS OPEN AND OMG I WANTED TO ASK IF YOU CAN MAKE AN demon!MIGUEL x but Innocent/cute/ werid/quirkFmAngel! Reader (like the demon CAN be also called the spider demon that all work under Miguel eyes😝💅😩)

Reader is a angel that believes that there goodness in any creature that mean Miguel.yea but she doesnt believed in some angel like her ex- boyfriend,reader finally caught her boyfriend cheating while hanging out with the group while eating there ice cream or looking in the heaven village or city idk ??😣😭 ( miles, gwen, and pav and his girlfriend )which when Gwen and hobie and miles was shocked and gasp loudly at something that pulled reader attention and when reader saw it, reader came running away in tear at the sight of it.

and ran away far away from it ,While pav girlfriend with hobie beating his as while gwen is telling hobie that " ENOUGH HOBBIE " while pav is trying to stop his girlfriend from cheering on hobie from SCREAMING at reader ex- boyfriend for making reader spend ALL her time with such a USELESS F ING ANGEL WHO doesnt work FOR SH%T

meanwhile Miguel, is some were in heaven and hell which is what I called is the void or the pocket of both lands and that where Miguel is doing his business(while wearing his spider logo LIKE imagine him wearing an tight suit with some sort of amor ) killing angel and entity\antomty (I forgot the name💀) in his way with Layla of course but only telling him how many are there but that where reader came running away and fall into and also hitting a large rock and managed to hurt one of her wings,badly, which cause her to stare around for any help or tried to see if she know what is this place she flew into, And Miguel was done doing assignments (ahem- killing) amd then see her in such a state that make his heart beat again,

Meanwhile reader is crying not of fear, but she not in fear of the man in front of him.. She finding it sexist (ok I want to make reader weird,or quirky💀😭) ok it not her problem OR FAULT OK it was his aura, big BOTTY OF A ASS that reader probably think she has seen in her life form a boy ✊😝 and his horns,

reader realized she still have tear in her eyes and started wipes her face and getting up from the floor but then the pain of her wings finally came. (And Layla being Layla teleport to Miguel to see if he done with work and see reader on the floor with a broken wing with blood and Layla making an deal or some thing idk to convince him to let her live while saying in a language Spanish but that a ancient towards reader)

NFSW PART THAT J COMPLETED SUCK AT

Let imagine Miguel heat or is just hella intoxicated with a sex drug from layla putting there (putting or idk someone LIKE PETER B ) and left it on his favorite desk( that he like to slam on A LOT JUST FROM THE RETARD THAT HE HAS TO DEAL with work💀 ✊ men got his on TABLET FOR THAT lol) and it crash on the floor and broke and some gas that Miguel was intoxication from of it and went to his own place while reader was petting an demonic cat in his house

Here is a some plot idea for the NFSw part

(Also THIS IDEA WAS INSPIRED BY MANY WEEBTOON STORY AND I WANTED TO mush ALL THESE IDEA INTO ONE SO pls 😭 if I suck AT EXPLAINING THE PART and I wanted to say this but I feel like Miguel be the grump bear person character or big puffy cat person like he wouldnt like anyone touch his horn but when reader ask he let her touch his horn with a pout sound as he lean down 🗣😭✊ also you can make this a fluff/smut any kink will do honestly! THANK YOU bye ❤

Hope you have a great day and time ! (Sorry if this made be a long request but I dont see many people making a demon Miguel like this one and reader as well so yea and I really wanted to people be inspired by this one !!!😇😌🗣

Pairing: Demon!Miguel O’Hara x Angel!fem reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Virgin!Reader, Fluff, Mentions of Cheated on Reader, Slight Corruption Kink, Slight Fingering, Oral Sex, Praise, Penetrative Sex, Mentions of Blood

Summary: Even the devil has a soft spot. 

Word Count: 3.9K (Not Edited)

It had been a gloomy day. 

You had never expected to find your sweet, attentive boyfriend sucking faces with someone else. It had ruffled your delicate feathers and for your wings to curve in with despair. Your friends had tried to pull you away from the scene, the dejection clear on your face as you stared longingly at the man you had given your golden heart to. Their reassuring words floated past you, mind preoccupied on why this could have happened to you. Was it something you did? Were you not enough? Were you missing something?

Later into that day, after numbly reassuring your friends you were alright, you had wandered aimlessly across the angelic city. You were so lost in thought that you had not realized you had taken too many turns out of the city, finding yourself in the Void. So unused to the dark, unfamiliar land, you had stumbled your way around, catching your wings on things you couldn’t see clearly until your body was sore and you had wilted to the ground in a hopeless mess. You were unsure of how long you had laid there, a withering mess of innocent pain before he had sniffed you out. 

From his account of events, he had just been back from one of his sessions of…repentance as he calls it. Even though his suit and dulled armor was splattered with blood, he knew the lingering scent in the air was fresh, more innocent than the kind he had spilt. He had followed the sweet fragrance, finding your helpless form crowded to the ground. You had looked up at him with such shiny eyes, a puffed pout on your lips. Your appearance alone was angelic, his hand itching to reach out and taint your delicate skin. He swore a glowing aura shielded your body, setting you apart from the gloominess of the Void. If not the scent of your blood, the shininess of your glow would attract dark things like him to you. 

You had shrunk back in response to the strong presence he held, not realizing tears had flowed down your face until he commanded you to wipe them away. When he had told you to follow him, you had weakly pushed yourself up, using the sound of shifting armor as your guide through the dark. He had taken you back to the modest cabin, cold and nearly as empty as the world outside. He had left you by yourself, your wings fluttering nervously as you tried to see more than blurred darkness. When he had lit a dim light, you had instantly flocked towards it while he kept his distance. You had crowded around the greenish-yellow flame like a moth, staring at it as if it was as angelic as you were. 

His rough hand was firm around your shoulder blade, pushing you into a seat near the flame. He stood behind you, as if using you to shield him from the light as he bandaged the fracture in your wing quietly. You had sat still, watching the flame dance on the candle wick. The light illuminated your face in a ghastly light, creating intense shadows against the features of your face. When he had pulled away, you turned to look for him, only to be met with pure black. You reached your hand out tentatively, pulling it back when you had met the cold metal of his armor. HIs own hand reached out to you, centimeters away from your face so you could see it. 

Your delicate fingers brushed over the calluses on his hand and in a gravelly voice he had asked you, how pretty, innocent you, found yourself an injured bird in such a dark place. With his adapted eyes, he had seen the darkening of your cheeks and the wounded look in your eyes. You had looked away, a half-hearted excuse of getting lost leaving your plush lips before asking him for his name. 

He answers begrudgingly, a low grumble that you have to strain your ears to catch. You find it only fair to tell him yours in return, and Miguel lets the word circulate into his head until it's fully memorized. The name suits a gentle creature like you he thinks, a soft symphony of syllables that are yours to own. It sounds like church bells and birds chirping, something that's shunned in the Void. The natural greed that fuels his body wants to lock you up and keep you for himself. 

Instead, he shoves the lantern into your hands, a silent demand to follow him as he walks towards the cabin’s entrance again. You two walk through the barren land, your small form following him as you stare at the more clearly defined shapes of the land. When you begin to slow or stray too far, he lets out a slow rumbling noise from his chest that draws you back to him. He doesn’t seem particularly annoyed when he does it, but he isn’t exactly happy about it either.  

You follow him until he stops, your distracted mind almost causing you to crash into him. You peak out from behind him quizzically, holding your lantern up only to find it useless. Even though Migurl stopped a good distance away, the light of the holy city is visible. A delighted smile makes its way onto your face as you look up at him, a silence thanks for his kindness. He doesn't look visibly affected, but his unmoving heart stutters in a single kick. 

You wordlessly walk out from behind him, taking a few steps forward before stopping and running back. His eyebrow raises as you stop right in front of him,a shy smile on your face as you take his hand and wrap it around the lantern’s handle with a soft thank you. You had given his hand a lingering squeeze before turning away from him and walked towards home. You had turned once after crossing out of the Void, eyes searching for a figure and a green glow, but both seemed to have disappeared into the darkness.

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵

Two weeks later, you were surprised to see that green glow in the distance. Based on the height of it, you knew it had to be Miguel. You took a hesitant step into the Void, then another and another until you were getting closer and closer to the light. You had stopped five feet away, close enough for the light to be an arm away, but far enough that you couldn’t see the face you’ve yet to see. It was silent for a long moment before that familiar rumble vibrated in the air. The softest of smiles came over your face as you walked closer, taking the lantern from him when he offered it to you. You lifted your arm up, letting the light travel up his form until you were looking into deep red eyes. 

A stifled gasp had left you, but it held more fascination than fear. Your eyes had drunk in his features, eyes mostly trained between his glowing orbs and the twisted points that spiraled from his soft hair. He had studied you too, eyes flashing at the delicate bow of your lips and the twinkling shine in your eyes. When you lowered the light, you kept your eyes trained to the place of his own eyes as you whispered a hello. He grunted back in response and turned to make way back to the cabin. You never hesitated to follow him back. 

It was in that very cabin that you spent most of your time together. Where the two of you bonded. You sat and talked, Miguel listening as he cleaned his armor or prepared you desserts made from sweet berries and cream that he bought from travelers in anticipation for your frequent visits. The first few visits acted as check ups, Miguel making sure your wing mended and had full capability. Those visits were quick and silent, but they made you anxious for the next one. 

Sometimes, after being too cramped in his cabin, you would ask Miguel to show you around the Void. He always grumbled about it, muttering how the Void was, well, void of anything besides plain terrain and the occasional hut or trading stand. But he had found that there was little he could deny you, something in his body against the idea of rejecting something so bright and lively. He had discovered this trait during an earlier visit where you had asked him in the sweetest tone he had ever heard if you could touch his horns. The disapproval was on the tip of his forked tongue, but seeing the way you had blinked so hopefully up at him only resulted in the bowing of his head as your gentle hands traced the grooves of the foreign keratin. 

On special days, the days where MIguel had no repentance to take care of, he would let you decorate his horns and hair with beads and accessories you had brought over and never took home. He would hold the lantern up for you so you could focus on your work, and he told you in a gruff voice about the more tamer quests he had been on. But those stories were rare and far between, Miguel finding someone as pure as yourself in no need to know about blood and death as he’s known them. But, they were fun to hear even with their heavy censorship and you absorbed every word like gospel. Honestly, you spend more time focusing on the sound of his voice rather than his words. You loved the deep calmness to his speech, wishing you had a way to record it so you could play it over and over in the hours you spent away from him. 

On the really bad days, the days where Miguel had come to fetch you at the border of the Void and the holy city in more blood than usual, he would take you back to the cabin in silence and wash up before pulling you to his sofa and cradling your innocent form to his chest. The both of you would be bathed in darkness, the lantern a far away glow on the dining table as he tried to absorb your good. He would hold your head gently, breathing in your sweet scent as he played with the ends of your hair or flattened the feathers of your wings. It helped calm him down, feeling the slight pleased purr vibrate against his chest as you beamed under his attentive care. He would rumble his chest slowly in response, showing his own content. Those days you knew you had to distract his mind, letting his mind fill with nothing but the events of your day or any days you were apart. When you ran out of events, you started telling him your own thoughts. Recalling a question you have about the universe, a flower you saw on your way to the Void’s edge, how you think maybe the next time you visit you’ll bring Miguel a nice piece of decoration to hang up so his cabin doesn’t look so sad. 

But no matter the type of day, no matter how many times you had visited him, he always walked you back to the edge of the Void at the same exact time. It was like clock work. It didn’t matter if you didn’t finish your story, it didn’t matter if you weren’t done removing the decorations from his hair, it didn’t matter if he hadn’t fully calmed down yet. When a small chime ran through his house, he would drop whatever he was doing, standing to give you your lantern before walking you out of his cabin. You had asked him about it a singular time, but he had ignored it. You waited, debated if you should ask again in case he didn’t hear you, but then that time happened and you dropped it. You had stayed curious about it, but you had come to terms with the fact that you’d possibly never know.

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵

You don’t know what compelled you to come so late. It was far past the time you would usually come, proven by the fact no lantern glow greeted you at the edge of the Void. But something in you urged you to go, your feet basically dragging you through the darkness. Luckily, the frequency of your visits made you familiar with the path to Miguel’s cabin, hand stretched out until it hit the flat wood of a door. It only took you a few pats to find the doorknob, turning it and sliding it open. 

Instantly, a dark musk filled your senses. It makes your head dizzy and you grip tighter onto the knob to steady yourself. When you think you're stable enough to walk, you take a step forward only to almost trip on an overturned chair. A spike of alarm rings in your head and you can’t help the urgency powering your voice as you call Miguel’s name. In the darkness, there is a faint noise of shuffling before you yelp out in surprise. Large hands grab you and flip you on the couch, your hands shoved above your heads as the sound of deep breathing echoes in your ear. Your body instantly melts into the fabric at the sound of Miguel’s voice asking you what you’re doing here. 

You try to shift your hands, but Miguel tightens his hold on them. You huff out a pout but stop struggling as you ask him if he’s okay. He doesn’t reply, burying his head into the crook of your neck and inhaling deep. His breath tickles around your neck and you can’t help the soft squirms your body makes. 

“Smells s’good,” Miguel mumbles against your skin, his hips pinning yours down so you can’t try to escape. You try to stifle the gasp that builds in your throat at something hard pressing into you. When Miguel’s wet tongue glides up the length of your neck, a soft noise leaves you parted lips. Your hips buck up to push him off, but he only grounds and grounds his hips into you. 

Another sound leaves you, slightly louder than before as you feel something rush into your panties. The feeling of the wetness is uncomfortable and you try to shift to relieve it. Miguel’s hands find your waist and grip hard, holding you still as you pull away from your neck. His eyes are glowing so brightly that you can see the red tint in the darkness. “It’s witching hour, y'know.

Can’t be here, ángel.” 

Despite the gruffness of his appearance, the words are sweet and full of concern. If you could, you would have reached your hand up to cup his face. He looks and sounds pained. You don’t know why, but you want to help. “Are you okay, Miggy? You don’t sound so good, is there anything I can help you with?”

The honey dripping from your voice makes him grind his hips against you again. You just sound so sweet. His perfect little angel was so worried about him. Wanted to be helpful to him. So sweet and pure and innocent. So goddamn tempting. And, like he said before, he can never deny you. He can’t deny you. Who denies help from an angel anyways? Definitely not him. Definitely not when you can help. 

His hand reaches down and cups under your pretty white tunic, a gasp leaving you when he cups your clothed sex and the heel of his palm presses the wetness against your skin. A deep moan leaves Miguel at the dampness, his hand rubbing it eagerly. “Yeah, you can.”

Before you can ask him what it is he needs help with, you feel too long fingers slip under your panties. Your body instantly tenses as Miguel teases them along your entrance, more slick rushing from you to coat his fingers. He tries to push them in, absolute surprise coursing through him when your walls don’t instantly give to take them at the same time. He tries to ease the tips of them, but still gets nothing. It frustrates him. You’re so wet, he can see you glistening before him. Fuck, you hips are even pressing back into his hand. So why can’t you take his fingers? 

Then, it hits him. His sweet little angel is a virgin. 

He grows impossibly harder at the thought. You really are pure. His tiny little angel, untouched and pure. All for his taking. His eyes trail up your body, looking into your confused face. Poor thing doesn’t even understand what’s happening. But, it’s okay. Miguel, he isn’t mean. He may be a demon but he isn’t mean. He’ll take care of you. 

“Need you to spread your legs f’me, doll. Spread your legs and relax.”

You obey so beautifully. You don’t question or hesitate. You only do, only please. Your legs spread for him and he watches the way your tunic bunches around your waist. The sight of your drenched cunt is downright heavenly and he can’t help but lick his lips. His hands glide up your legs until he’s helping you keep your legs open. Gently, he bends down and places them over his shoulder until he’s face to face with your practically see-through panties. He licks a long strip up them, tongue swirling around your poked bud. Your lips instantly buck up in response and your hands find his horns for support. 

He chuckles at you, studying you as he pushes your panties to the side again. He licks another strip up you, your slick collecting on his taste buds. You taste as sweet as you smell and it’s driving him wild. The grip on you tightens as he prods at your entrance. His tongue is wet and warm and causes you to feel things you didn’t even know were possible. Your hips lift in response, and you cry out when Miguel slips his tongue into you. 

The buckling of your hips is instinctive as his tongue dives in and out of you, occasionally playing with your clit. Your eyes are threatening to roll back as your hands tighten around Miguel’s horns to aid your movements. “M-miguel…what are you..?”

Miguel’s own eyes roll back at your clueless question. You don’t even understand what’s going on, but here you are desperately trying to ride his face like a fucking succubus because you feel that good. A deep groan vibrates against you as he eats you out more desperately, drinking up everything you’re spilling out. In response, you keep letting out the prettiest of noises. If this is what it's like to go to church, Miguel just might consider being stricken down for the chance to hear your moans. 

Your legs begin to shake, trying to fight Miguel’s strong hold. Your body quivers and twists, head thrown back as you try to stop whatever it is building inside of you. “Miguel…stop, wait!”

Your begs and pleads are absolute music to him, He can feel the clenching of your walls, and he tries to ease a finger into you to hold them apart. His fingers slip in easier than before, but it still has resistance. But the moment he’s knuckle deep and curls, you’re crying out as you finish. Miguel’s eyes snap up to you, watching drunkenly as you twitch. He slurps everything up, moaning into you as he sucks your lips. He pulls away with a pop, placing a gentle kiss onto your sensitive clit as you try to breathe. Your chest rises and falls, sweat making your tunics stick to your body and become transparent in some places. You’re nipples peek through the fabric, and Miguel sucks them until they’re clearly seen under the garment. 

He finally reaches up to your face, kissing your cheek to call you back to him. Your eyes are hazy as you turn to look at him, a small film of satisfaction coating them. The sight makes Miguel smile, nuzzling his nose against your skin to breathe in the lingering scent of sex and sweat on you. You smell absolutely divine and he can’t help but palace a slow kiss to your lips. Your own lips are clumsy, not really knowing what you’re doing. You just follow Miguel’s example and whatever your brain is telling you is right. But Miguel seems to be enjoying it, pressing his lips harder against you and humming. 

You’re the first to pull away, a gasp ripping from you as you feel his finger slide back into you. He wiggles it around, stretching your walls out in preparation for something bigger. You whine against his lips. Hips shifting when he pulls it out of you. But soon you feel the warmth of something larger poking at your opening. Your eyes meet Miguel’s glowing ones, a silent question in your eyes. 

Miguel presses a soft kiss to the corner of your eye as he begins to push in. His hand tilts your head to the side, his face looking down at you as your own twists in discomfort. “This is gonna hurt for a second, sweet angel.” 

Before you can ask what he means, his hips snap forward. A scream begins to leave your throat, but it dies once Miguel surges towards your neck and bites down. The pinch of something painful hits you before it all dies down into a euphoric numbness. A soft moan leaves you as Miguel slowly thrusts in and out. He pulls away from your neck, giving it a quick lick and kiss before taking your arms to wrap them around his neck loosely. He kisses your cheek again, moaning at the coppery smell of blood that begins to feel the air as he stretches your hymen. 

“That’s it. So fucking good for me, good girl.”

Even in your dazed state, your body glows under his praise. A slow hum leaves you, and you arch your back into him. Miguel’s hand slips to your lower back, pressing your skin into his body and he begins to speed up his thrusts. Each snap of his hips brings shockwaves of pleasure through you, and it isn’t long before you feel the familiar build up in your body again. Miguel groans as your walls tighten around his cock, teeth grinding together as he pushes through your tight walls. With another sharp thrust, you're moaning out again as you release. 

Miguel continues to work you through it, working at your clit to make it last longer. You whimper in appreciation, body pressing up into his fingers for more. He chuckles at the involuntary movement, working you even after your body jolts from oversensitivity. His fingers and his thrusts don’t stop until he feels his own pleasure beginning to form its peak. WIth a few sharp thrusts and you moaning his name, he spills his hot seed into you. The feel of it filling you makes you come again, hips lifting and pressing into his pelvis to keep it all into you. 

Miguel rubs soft circles into the skin of your hips to help you calm down, pressing kisses to your shoulders and muttering praise. He pulls out slowly, his cock an ombre of pink to creamy white cum as the same mix drips from you. His fingers fuck it back into you absentmindedly, only stopping when you cry out softly. He gives you time to rest, leaving to get a soft cloth to wipe you down. 

Midway through his cleaning, you hand lands to his arm. He looks up at you questionably, watching the dazed look beginning to leave your eyes. But he can’t help the wide smile that forms on his face as you ask: “Again?”

Teehee

[the-anime-enthusiast]

izuku midoryia’s type in women PLEASEEEE🙏🙏

OFCC!! Sorry for taking so long, in my last post I explained why I've been on an unofficial hiatus but yeah 😭 I got u!!

IZUKU MIDORIYA - type in women

PHYSICAL 🤸‍♀️

bro DOES NYYYAT care, literally at all. I think everyone has their preferences, him too ofc, but he's him guys. The ratio from hips to waist is NOT what bros laying attention to, but ofc I'll still give you my opinion.

SUN KISSED BADDIES you got that like sunburn across your cheeks? he's going crazy. like legitimately. I don't think he would be able to handle his feelings. he'd probably pass out from a blood pressure spike.

He likes them brown haired girls 😔 and brown eyed girls 😭 (song reference) He honestly doesn't care Abt details like that, he'd date anyone, but he def compares his love life to shoujo series and he stays seeing those dark haired baddies.

ass tits thighs personality ✅ he's fs a personality man but let's bffr, every guy has there thing....height, hips, and arms. He likes his girls shorter than him 🙂 (around 5'2? not too short tho cuz then he gets weirded out) He LOVES dem hips. Yk whenever a girl has that natural dip in her hips, it kinda looks like those donut stack toys babies play with? (random comparison I js can't think of anything) HE LOVES THAT SH!!T. He's def secretly crazy for thick hips, like when u got some fat around them. Loves it 100%

okay...so the whole arms thing...he likes girls who have thicker arms...and not rly a muscle kinda thick, more like an auntie thick when you got that little folded skin hanging over the elbow. Bros specific, and bros a lil weird Abt it. He would NEVER admit it out loud, but it's like a creepy fetish for him. He would js never actually be creepy Abt it tho cuz yk, HE HAS COMMON DECENCY. (Unlike some guys 🙄)

When I say he's not picky, I MEAN he is not picky. It's giving very much Yuji Itadori and that one girl that he was like "yeah it would be her" (very mindful, very sweet, very wholesome, very demure) Slim, Thick, Skinny, Midsize, Plus size, All size, Morphing Size (idfk im running out of sizes and you never know with those quirks man)

MENTAL 🧠

if ur a mean ass bitch you can get TFFF OUUUTTT bro does NOT stand for that sh!t 🙅‍♀️ tbh i dont think he'd be picky when it comes to personality but he doesn't stand for someone who has room for hate in their heart, even after everything hes been through. I'm not gonna sit here and be like "oh he's a sweet cinnamon roll 🥺" like bffr, but he won't even look in your direction if you're a "hater"

He generally wants someone sweet, or just nice in general. like ochaco (no I'm not shipping them, she's just really nice and the best charcter to describe his preferred personality to)(did you see her with toga? shes a sapphic queen guys bffr) He wants someone who cares TREMENDOUSLY, like he does. Kindness is what gets his attention, being a good soul and good spirit, someone he can match wave lengths with mentally.

A strong mind and determination. (bkdk reference) (I'm joking) He knows exactly where he wants to be in life, even if his idea of that is a little messy, so he likes whenever someone has the same drive he does, natural will to be good. He wants someone mentally tough and ready to face the world for what they believe, as long as they know in their heart it's what they want/believe. (all might reference)

RANDOM 🎉

He rly likes girls who can draw 😭 He thinks it's the coolest thing ever and it makes it so easy for his partner to get him gifts bc he'd melt if he got a personalized drawing of him and his fav heros 😭

LOVE LANGUAGE - physical touch

he's not huge on pda (he gets rly embarrassed, not in a embarrassed of you way, more of a, im shy and feel like my face is going to explode, kinda way) but he loves sweet little acts of physical touch. Whenever he's stressed or really anxious holding hands melts all his worries away.

LOVE LANGUAGE -quality time

bro fr js wants to be next you. he loves little cheesy dates (amusement park and sharing crepes)(manga reference) but yeah, just cheesy things like that.

Really likes nerdy girls (very big on matching energy if you can't already tell) like js geek out with bro and he'd die for u istg.

Play a damn board game with this kid, Jeezus Chrysler. Whip out monopoly and you'll have his attention till he rots in fictional jail. He actually REALLY sucks at board games but refuses to ever stop playing them. Jenga? He can't even set the blocks up without knocking them over. Uno? He forgot what the word uno was. I mean literally say there stuttering trying to remember what word he's supposed to say.

BUY THIS KID SHOES. He doesn't know why...but it's one of his favorite gifts to receive. He loves trying them on and showing them off to you. He also gets rly geeked out over custom fan shoes. (think like those Hercules sandals from the Hercules movie) He knows it's cringe. He doesn't care. He has display racks for all of them on his wall.

OMG I FINISHED WRITING IT HOLY SH!T I DIDNT THINK I WOULD I js pulled all of these he out MY BEHIND BRO it's midnight I'm dead ASF, I have that convention in 2 days, shizzz wild rn. Pls lemme know what u think!! I've never been a HUUGHERE Deku fan, I kinda js appreciate his character, but I think this is pretty cutesy, how tf do u spell that. Anyways, yeah. This was fun. BYEYYEYEYEHEHEHEHEHEYYTEYRYTRYYR

[kiradrabbles]

"fucked in both ways", ticci toby x athlete reader fuck or die drabble

this was requested on my a03!

cw: noncon, brief mention of sh scars!

kinks: outdoors sex, noncon, toby is dominant and rough, he degrades you a little, fear play, he chases you, that type beat.

In hindsight, taking a walk in the woods at night was a horrible idea, but at the time it felt like a good one, your arms and legs had been burning from training and what better than a relaxing evening walk to calm you down. After all, what could go wrong?

A lot. A lot could go wrong.

It all started off well, at least. The only sounds you could hear were the crunching of the autumn leaves under your feet, and the sound of the birds and wildlife chirping. It was nice, relaxing even. Always nice to get out of the city, to breathe fresh air.

Until you started to get paranoid. It's not hard, alone in the woods, to convince yourself something was going wrong. Odd cracking sounds that weren't from you, footsteps behind you, rustling and a quiet voice.

You were just being paranoid, you told yourself. It was just birds fluttering through the trees, a little later at night than usual. It was just the fauna, the deer, perhaps a rabbit. just your imagination running wild.

It was only when an axe came screaming towards your head that you re-evaluated, deciding there was, in fact, someone following you.

Somehow you managed to duck out of the way just before it thudded into the tree a few inches beside your head.

Before you even processed it you had set off running, legs moving faster than your thoughts.

You felt a hand grab you, yanking you back, coming face to face with a masked man. He looked to be wearing a mouthguard of sort, and a pair of scratched up orange goggles obscuring his eyes. His breath stank of iron as you both stayed silent for a second, both of you heavy breathing.

Untill you swung your leg back and kicked him in the shins, hard. And you knew damn well the kick would hurt, you were an athlete, having strong legs were your thing.

Nothing. No reaction. If anything the man squeezed your shoulder tighter, jerking his head and letting out a laugh.

"Nuh-nice try" He grinned under the mouthguard "Can't feel pain."

In the heat of the moment, you weren't sure how, you managed to pull yourself away, throwing his arm back at him. And you ran, oh how you ran.

You ran until you felt your legs shaking, ready to give out, blood burning as you took heaving breath after heaving breath. You collapsed and leant against a tree, throat dry as you took in gasps. Surely you had lost him.

You didn't know where you were, you couldn't risk calling for help.

"I'm fucked" You groaned under your breath.

"In more ways t-than one" That voice said, and suddenly, you were tackled to the ground.

You weren't sure where he'd come from, all you could focus on was trying to get up, thrashing and kicking at him. You couldn't tell if any of your feeble attempts at punches (your coach would be dissapointed) landed, even if they did it wasn't like he could feel them.

Finally you stopped as he shoved a knee between your legs, arms pinned over your head with both hands as he stared down at you.

His goggles had been pushed up, revealing a pair of deep brown eyes, that despite the eye bags, would almost be pretty if not for the rest of his face. A lot of his skin, especially on the left of his face looked scarred and rough, all convoluting on a massive gash on his cheek, going through to the gums and teeth. His hair was matted and looked like it hadn't been brushed in.. a while as he stared down at you.

"P-please don't hurt me?" You managed out after a few seconds of silence, fear overcoming your pride.

He was silent for a few seconds, before he laughed, neck jerking to the left. It didn't serve to make you feel much better.

"See, heres the - wow! - heres the thing!" He spoke "N-normally i'd kill you f-for trespassing on it's land, a-and make it slow too, suh-since you made it such a pain in the ass."

A few painfully slow seconds passed "…but?"

"You're pretty." He let go of one of your hands, staring at you as if daring you to move it, and ripping off one of his gloves with his mouth, spitting it onto the forest floor a few inches away from you. You finched, and he grinned wider, seeming to enjoy it as he cupped your face.

His hand was rough and callous, and you could see scars on his fingers, almost looking like bite marks along the tips, barely healed up. "A-and i've got a weakness for p-pretty girls. Never got them as a kid, i-i mean look at me" His neck jerked and he inturrupted himself with a laugh "I-i digress. W-what'll it be cutie, fuck, or die?"

"..fuck" You managed, deciding that it couldn't be worse than death.

He didn't even wait to hit you with an 'i told you so', slamming his body into yours, his lips - at least, the majority that was still there - into yours, teeth clashing, pushing his tongue into your mouth. He tasted like copper, and something else you couldn't place. You weren't sure if you wanted to know.

He didn't wait, either, to shove his hands under your shirt and squeeze your breasts roughly. And as much as you hated yourself for it, you moaned slightly into his mouth.

He grinned into the rough kiss, taking that as if it meant you enjoyed it, continuing to squeeze, moving one of his hands and squeezing your nipple as you whine into him.

"yuh-you want it, don't you?" He almost purred, goading you, breaking away from the kiss, a few strings of saliva still connecting your mouths.

You stare up at him, almost speechless. After a few seconds you manage to respond. "No-" panting slightly from the kiss.

"L-Liaar" He crowed smugly, removing one of his hands from your shirt, yanking your trousers down. You felt your skin prickle at the sudden cool air from the forest, suddenly exposed to the wind and his prying eyes. And they were prying, alright. The way he stared, you'd think he'd never had sex in his life.

He finally stopped staring as he did the same to your underwear, before pushing his index and middle finger right into your pussy, as you clenched at the sudden intrusion. Fuck, they slid right in. You were wet.

And you felt it, too, now that attention was brought to it. a shameful need in your cunt. The slick from your hole almost dripping onto his hand, down your thighs, onto the forest floor. fuck.

You almost whined as he removed his fingers from your cunt, feeling the emptiness. You clamped your mouth shut, not letting any noise out. You weren't supposed to be enjoying this. But despite yourself, you wanted It. You wanted this- this man who'd tacked you, who'd said he'd kill you. You wanted him to fuck your brains out.

You sat up a little, leaning on your elbows as he pulled back, watching as he struggled with the belt buckle, listening to the metal clink.

His cock was painfully hard, almost straining through his gray boxers as he pulled them down too, cock springing up, pre-cum dripping from the tip as he leant over you. His thighs were lined with scars and bruises, and you almost felt bad for him.

You didn't have long left to feel bad, however, as he positioned himself obove you, grinning wildly, a little saliva dribbling from his mouth. He pressed his tip against your hole, and you tensed up, preparing for him to enter you. but.. nothing.

You reopened your eyes, staring up at his smug grin, a little of his matted hair falling over his face.

"Tuh-tell me you want it"

You squirmed a little at the request, cheeks heating up in embarrasment at the thought, and he grabbed your arm, squeezing hard enough you were sure there would be fingerprint bruises tomorrow. He pressed you against the rocky ground.

"c'mon, you know you- you know you want it" He growls "Y-you wanna get fucked by a stranger like a fucking whore d-don't you. C-come on."

"Fine!" You gasp quietly, squirming a bit more, hips bucking up with the need for stimulation. "P-please? i want you to fuck me"

He did not wait to bottom out inside of you, shoving into you, his bony hips meeting yours.

"fuh-fuck" He groans, the sound of his hips stuttering against yours, a rhythmic slapping, echoes through the forest. God, you hoped no one was hiking….

He lowered himself over you leaning in for another kiss, his lips scraping yours. you found yourself kissing him back, moaning and rolling your hips against his, in time with his thrusts.

Your skin prickled with sweat as the two of you , arms wrapping round his shuddering body, digging into his back through his hoodie.

fuck, this was fucking insane. and hot.

His thrusts began to get irregular and disjointented as he started to pant, breaking your kiss, strands of saliva connecting the two of you still.

"S-Scheisse" He cursed quietly through the pants as he continued to thrust, hips juttering against you. "Sh-shit, i'm going to-"

And he came. You could feel it inside you, his hot speed spurting inside of you. The two of you stood - or, more accurately - laid there for a second and radiated in each others body heat.

He pulled out and it dripped down your legs, landing on the forest floor.

his neck jerked as he stared at you, eyes raking appreciatively over your body, cum dripping out of your pussy, bruses up your legs and breasts, shaking.

"Hm. i-i like you." He grins "i think i'm going to - birdie! - going to keep you."

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 20 all chapters

gif credit to dilfgifs

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

-You try to go as long as you can, but later that night you decide you just can’t stand it anymore. You’re pretty sure it’s been days, and you feel gross.

“Can I…use your shower?”

He turns to you with a small smile. “You mean, our shower? Yes.”

Hoping that’s the end of it, and this exchange won’t get weird, you slip out from under his arm to go into the bathroom. You check your prospects, finding expensive shampoo, conditioner, bodywash, shaving gel…but no razor. You guess you get it, kind of, but really. Then again, maybe you'd better not ask. Why send mixed signals by shaving off your body hair? It’s just an aesthetic mostly catering to the male gaze anyway…

But it bugs you.

You pop your head back out of the door. “Razor?”

He doesn’t even look up from his book.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

This annoys you for some reason. “Just so you know, I am not going to try to kill myself.” Brave words for someone in your situation, but at least at the moment, you mean them.

“I was more worried you might try to kill me.”

You open your mouth again, until he fixes you with that laser-like stare. “Just take your shower, y/n, or do I have to come in there to help you?”

The thought of his large hands on your body slick with soap sends an inconvenient spear of desire straight to your center.

“No.”

You disappear fast as a groundhog into its burrow, closing the door behind you.

“Door open!” he yells in that particular tone, and sensing the shift in his mood, you comply rather than pull his tail some more.

Well done, you, you chide yourself as you strip out of your dirty dress and your ACE bandage in the cavernous shower. He was actually in a good mood, somehow, after you tried to knock his head off with a book. And now you…what? You did something to piss him off, at least a little bit.

Learning his moods was going to take some doing.

It was the only way you were getting out of here alive.

You keep looking over your shoulder, half expecting to see him looming behind you. That man moves silent as a ghost when he feels like it.

It’s creepy. And…kind of hot, if you’re being honest, but that is not a helpful thought.

You feel a thousand times better with all the grime washed from your hair and your body. You wrap yourself in a big fluffy towel that feels like a cloud on your skin, and put off going into the bedroom by drying your hair.

There are products on the sink that you use, face lotions and hair creams, and more expensive versions of the same type that you could never afford. How did he know?

Then again, he has fucking gorgeous hair, he probably knows more about styling product than you do.   

You turn to look at his handiwork upon your bum. The bruise is a red and purple swirl nearly the size of your fist. You can actually see the neat lines of his teeth marks. “Jesus Christ.”

His eye was going to heal way before that was.

When you can’t really dawdle in the bathroom anymore, you war with the next conundrum.

Fresh clothes.

Fuck it. You march out, heading for the closet without making eye contact with the reclining leopard on the bed. You can feel his eyes on you, and fuck if it doesn’t turn you on to be watched like that. Like you are some kind of prize to be desired.

It feels utterly insane to you, to say the least. You’re not that beautiful, but he looks at you like you’re Helen of Troy.  

With your hand on the closet door John clears his throat pointedly.

You know you can’t ignore him. Risking his wrath while you’re wrapped in nothing but a bath towel is so not a good idea.

You turn to find he’s laid something out at the foot of the bed for you already.

“Wear this,” he says. It’s an order clothed in velvet. Polite, but…you sense the unyielding directive underneath.

You pad on bare feet to the foot of the bed. It’s a silky lavender nightie with lace at the bodice. Nothing too wacky. No embarrassing peep holes or extraneous straps. You are somewhat relieved.

Until you see the underwear he’s paired with them.

Your underwear, as a matter of fact.   

Those went missing a long time ago.

Speechless, you look to him, knowing you look like a fish out of water but unsure what to say.

This has been going on for way longer than you even knew, and you didn’t have a clue.

“You took these from my apartment.” You manage not to yell it.

“I didn’t want you to wear them for anyone but me.” He has the cheek to sound grouchy about it, like you did something wrong.

You feel your temper rising like the mercury in a thermometer. You know you’re going to say something stupid, but you just don’t know how to keep it in.

“How. Fucking. Dare you?”

He just sighs, like he already knows how this is going to go. “Don’t play this game with me, baby.”

You bite down on the impulse to demand he not call you baby.

“You could have just…asked me out. I would have said yes, you know?”

He actually looks away as you tell him this.

“Maybe you would have. Until you realized I’m just a bitter old man, and you would have left me.”

You blink at that. How can he be so smart, and yet so blind?

“I knew you were a bitter old man all along! But you know what? I liked you anyway. I thought you were interesting, and funny, and so fucking handsome, and I wanted to fuck you. But now…” You clench your fists, shaking with all the vitriol you know you can’t unleash on this unpredictable man.

This unpredictable killer.

He takes your fury, seemingly nonplussed. You’re not sure any of it registers at all, and it takes some of the wind out of your sails. “This isn’t love, John,” you say quietly, your throat tightening with every syllable. “Love is…having the courage to bare your heart to the sword, and take what comes. You can’t control it like this.”

He tilts his head at this, a wave of that lovely dark hair covering his face. You get the feeling like he’s hiding from you, when he does that.

Finally he asks, “Have you ever been stabbed, y/n?”

Your heart skips a beat, as you wonder if he’s threatening you. “No.”

“Well let me tell you. It fucking hurts.”

Then he reaches down the bed to pluck up the panties, sticking them in his pocket. “I guess I’ll just keep these. You’re not going to need them anyway.”

You glare daggers at him.

He offers you the slightest, smuggest, smile.

“You sonofabitch.”

“Watch that mouth, kitten. Unless you want me to fill it up with something else.”

You bare your teeth with the thought. “I fucking dare you,” you spit, snatching up the nightie to take it to the bathroom to change.

“Nuh uh,” he interjects. “Change here.”

You freeze in your tracks, understanding exactly what he’s demanding of you.

This is how it’s going to be, you tell yourself. He’s going to be sweet, and then he’s going to be insufferable, and if you’re not careful, he’ll get downright mean. Don’t be fooled by the sweet moods, because all the rest is just beneath the surface waiting.

It was so hard to remind yourself of that, when he was being good to you.

You don’t turn around. You moonlighted as a drawing model after college. You can handle this, right? He’s already seen parts of you anyway…

It’s soooooooooo much different than being in that classroom, when you undo your towel and let it fall to the floor. You can feel the weight of his gaze on your bare form. In the end, knowing it’s just your backside, that he’s already gotten way more than an eyeful of…doesn’t really help. With shaking hands you quickly you pull the nightie over your head.

You hope he feels guilty about the size of that fucking bruise, but you have a feeling he probably likes seeing his marks on you.

“Come here.” He practically purrs, and your flesh aches for the sound. Fuck.

You turn to face him, but do not move. Once again, that glorious boner is making an appearance. It’s almost flattering, how often this man has a hard-on when he’s around you. If this had been a normal relationship, you would have made it your mission to oblige him at every opportunity, just to see what the old man could take.

As it is…all you want to do is fight him, and you know you are destined to lose.

He pats his thigh, as though he expects you to sit on his lap. Without underwear. Or a bra. Or a sense of self-preservation.

You shake your head no with the glitter of moisture in the corners of your eyes. You’ve never felt so helpless in your life, and you hate it.

 He frowns at your defiance. My god, no one can do a forbidding frown, like Mr. John Wick. It lodges your heart in your throat, even while you find him magnificent.

“Are you going to make me make you?”

And there it is.

You sigh, and you feel like a piece of your soul exits your body. Good. Good, be empty. He can’t hurt an empty husk.

“I guess so.”

You close your eyes, and you wait. You wait for his rough hands, for the violence that is surely coming to you. You shake like a leaf, unable to stop. You don't know why you'd allowed yourself to hold out some hope, that maybe he really wasn't going to hurt you.

Yet, it does not come.

You open your eyes to find him still frowning at you. He hasn’t moved a muscle.

The longest three seconds of your life tick by. You count them in your thundering heartbeats, and then he scoots over on the bed. “Fine. Come lay by me then.”

You are shocked to your toes. You forget how to move. 

“Now.” He snaps his fingers, pointing to the bed beside him, and you scurry over before he loses his patience with this kinder offer. Cautiously you crawl up beside him, and when he holds up his arm you understand the cue, snuggling into his side with your head on his shoulder. 

Alright, this, you can do. 

This feels almost…normal. The way your head fits into the divot of his shoulder is just…divine, if you’re being honest, and your body shudders as you suppress a sob, hiding your face against his chest. It’s not fair, that you still want him so much, and you mourn for the promise of sweetness that was snatched from your table before you ever really got a chance to taste it.

“Shh,” he soothes, touching your hair, his big hand dwarfing the crown of your head. “I’ll try to remember to be patient with you.”

You nod against him, wanting to believe him, knowing that makes you a sad little fool.

“But my patience has its limits. Remember that, kitten.”

Oh. You weren’t going to forget.

He continues to hold you, and eventually your heart slows, the tension in your body finally relaxing.

It’s incredible, really, how you just can’t leave well enough alone.

Now that you’ve both calmed, you feel bold enough to ask, “John?”

“Yeah, baby?” His lips on the top of your head make your eyelids flutter, it’s so sweet.

“Do you…at least know that it was wrong, to break into my apartment?” You feel like the answer to this one question will help you gauge everything about his state of mind.

He is silent for a long time. Long enough to let your imagination run rampant with the things he might do to punish you for this impertinence, after he was so generous as to just let you lay down with him and snuggle.

Yet there’s no anger in his voice when he answers, “Yeah. But I’ve been breaking the law my whole life, sweetheart, and no one’s stopped me yet.”

It’s the truth, and a nice neat little warning, all wrapped up in one.

You should be scared again, but you just sigh against his chest. Maybe you’ve used up whatever hormone is responsible for adequate fear responses for the day. Or maybe…his games are working on you already, claiming your sanity inch by inch.

You lay there in his arms, and eventually you start to doze. He strokes your hair, a sweet and lulling touch that makes you curl your toes. When those featherlight fingertips find their way to the back of your neck, and the tops of your shoulders, you cannot help but squirm. In your half-asleep state, this is your kryptonite, and your leg tangles with his, your pelvis pressing against his hip. It feels like the most natural thing in the world, to crane your head towards him.

Only when you feel him shift to lean towards you for a kiss, do you realize what you are doing.

You turn your head at the last second, and his grip on you tightens from comforting to bruising in a nanosecond. “Wait—”

He has you on your back before you can blink.

 “Are we still pretending you don’t want me, kitten?”

“I…”

Suddenly his hand is between your legs, manhandling you like he owns you, raking up your thigh to swipe at your folds. He finds you soaking wet with slick, of course, and he makes a point to press your clit with his thick fingers as he withdraws. It sends an agonizing jolt of desire spreading through the cradle of your hips, the ache in your stupid little cunt nigh unbearable. You hardly recognize the keening sound that escapes your mouth.

Was that you?

It worsens ten-fold as you watch him bring his fingers to his lips, sucking them clean. “Tastes like lies to me.”

Goddammit.

“John…”

You can hardly believe it, when he slides off of the bed, leaving you cold and alone, confused and filled with desire. The pulsing ache between your legs drowns out any rational thoughts you might have had a moment ago.

“Little liars don’t get to cum. I’ll let you think about that tonight.”

You feel like you did that night in Italy, watching him walk out the door when all you really want is to feel his thick, insatiable cock teeming inside you.

Which is fucking insane, of course.

And you were thinking he might be the crazy one?

 “Same rules, sweetheart. Don’t you dare touch yourself tonight. I’ll fucking know.”

With one last baleful look over of his shoulder he touches his hand to the lock, and sweeps out of the room. He leaves you stunned on the bed, disheveled and unsure, once again, of what the fuck just happened?

[friendlylocalwhumper]

“Yes.” | “Kneel.” | Best of Three | Correspondence | Appraisal | Collapse | Cupcake | Foggy | Cracking | Just Breathe | Urge | Trim | Stupid | Upkeep | Old Defeat | Watching | Simple Loyalty | Overreaction | Set Up for Failure | Burning | Healed Wrong | Haunted | Boxes Buried | Heavy Blow | Loneliness

“Come on. Over here.”

Head throbbing a little from his sobbing last night, Major grumbles something under his breath and shuffles his socked feet along to follow. Simon’s hand around his wrist is warm, and he knows what that means. Simon was sitting, on the couch probably, hands wedged under his thighs for pressure. Holding the urge in, trying to be patient. To give Major a couple more minutes to lounge in the beanbag chair and nap.

Now, there has to be pain. For like, less than an hour, probably. And he might get to heal it after. Major swallows past a lump in his throat and makes sure not to be slow enough that Simon will have to actually drag him along.

They pass through the hall and into the kitchen. There’s a power strip plugged into the wall, and plugged into that is something pretty normal to be in a house. Normal, safe if you use it right, not anything fucking weird like a whip or a blindfold or a knife.

It has him stopping suddenly, though, and his socks slide over the linoleum floor before he manages to lock his elbow behind the door frame and stop himself hard enough to stop Simon too.

The man whips around, startled by the sudden interruption to his plan. A few strands of hair have come loose from his bun, and one of the sleeves of his cardigan is bunched up while the other hangs loose down to the wrist. “What, Cupcake? You don’t even know what it’ll be.”

Major glares pointedly at the iron. At the little red light glowing to indicate that it is on, and it has reached the right temperature. Air comes off it in little waves, the heat distorting the air conditioned coolness around it.

Simon looks, too, and then pulls up his other sleeve, idly restless. “Okay, yeah. I know. But listen. It’ll be quick, this one. Just real quick and then it’s over.”

He’s seen Simon like this before. Almost desperate to satisfy the urge, but aware that this weird almost-friendship is fragile.

“What if I let you heal it, after… I don’t know, an hour?”

Scar-thick fingers grind against each other with stress. Major grits his teeth, gaze switching from the iron to Simon and back again.

“Ten minutes? You can heal it after ten minutes. I just need to see it, to… I’ve been thinking about it.” He’s all but drooling. Shifting where he stands, inching back toward the table with the cord, flexing his hands. “Come on, Cupcake. Please.”

It’s not fucking fair. Being asked to take something he wouldn’t ever take, not even to save the life of someone he really liked. Not even for a hundred dollars and some good liquor. Major huffs an agitated breath out of his nose. Reaches up to scratch at his soft-and-not-itchy curls, and then buries his fingers into them, pulling as he thinks.

“Burning, I don’t… I don’t do that, I can’t take that,” Mutters the captive, awkwardly avoiding looking at Simon’s eagerly listening face, now. “I’ll do sh-, stuff, I’ll do stuff you want, you know, but… you can like, stab me, or something?” What else would be good to offer? There are no ideas in his head. “Or, uh - beat me up, again? I dunno, is there anything else you want?”

He’s bouncing on his heels. Simon is full of energy, bursting with it. “No. Nothing else. Just real quick, I was picturing it here…” Major jerks back from the finger jutted his way, though he forces himself to fall still and lets the fingertip trace a circle on his chest. “In the center. Won’t hold it there for too long. You can take it, I know you can. Probably won’t even hurt as bad as the first burns you got, there. I know there’s scars in the way.”

Under his T-shirt, those scars itch. Major twitches. “...Ten minutes? And then I can heal?”

That grin spreads instantly. “Yeah. Yes. Ten minutes. Come on, come on!”

He’s being yanked along again. Major feels dizzy as he’s sat on the floor, and Simon pulls the iron down to sit there, too, with the appliance held in a tight grip. “Down here, so if you pass out, you don’t hit your head on the way down.”

Major grunts, bracing his palms on the linoleum. “Thanks a bunch.”

Simon flashes a smile, and it soothes Major’s nerves a little. Feels like he did a good thing, earning that smile.

The heat touches him before the metal is even close enough to do any damage. Major shifts an inch back, mouth already hanging open to pant nervously. “Don’t - don’t…” His pleading is aimless, half-hearted.

“Shh, you’ll be fine. You can take it.” Simon’s eyes are locked onto the scars across Major’s chest and the heat rippling through the air as the iron approaches its target.

Major watches him, his headache worsening with the tension in his jaw.

It’s too warm. Sweat is starting to slick Major’s skin. His fingers feel like they’re sticking together, air is too dry and lodging in his throat, his thighs ache from tensing up.

The iron makes contact. It feels cold for the duration of his startled gasp, and then Major loses all sense of his limbs, his head, everything except the point of contact between the metal and his chest.

With the familiar, all-consuming agony that erupts from his core and won’t go away for an eternity of ten minutes, Major feels himself careening back into the cellar. Lying on his back, shivering under a sheen of sweat for hours, only for glowing hands to return and fire to erupt across his tattoos, consuming the sloppy inked lines and erasing them. It was the worse pain of his life. It’s back, it’s going to burn a hole through him. It will never end. He’d cut off an arm to stop it, he’d kill his boyfriends, he’d beg and cry and nuzzle and be any-fucking-thing that any-fucking-one wanted him to be.

The iron peels away. Major wails, lifting his hands only to keep them hovering inches away from his chest. His head tips down to look and then just as urgently turns up, his stomach turning at the thought of seeing the damage. He doesn’t want to see. He doesn’t want to know.

Something presses to the back of his head and between his shoulder blades. Major doesn’t remember closing his eyes but he decides to trust without cracking them open, and allows himself to lean back, pressing to the hands as he is guided to lie down. The linoleum floor is soothing, cool against his skin.

The fingers carding through his hair are even more of a comfort. Is his skin blackened? Is it pink, an open wound, the skin gone? He doesn’t know. The pain is so bad, he can’t feel anything specific at all. But Simon is here, leaning over him, watching closely. Nothing new will happen, it’s done. Simon does what he says he will, and then it’s over, and things get less painful.

“Nine more minutes,” Murmurs that familiar voice, and it may as well be a voice from the sky telling him how things were destined to go. It’s true, it’s honest and it’ll really happen. Major’s been slipping in and out of consciousness under Simon’s fists enough times to know that his countdowns are straightforward. When he says it’s done, it’s done.

He can’t last nine minutes.

“Eight.”

Eight minutes. He can’t last eight more minutes.

The fingers in his hair curl so that short nails can scratch along his scalp, following and brushing against the curls. Major’s heavy breathing stutters and trips over itself.

The countdown continues, and every time Major almost begs for it to end, Simon does something. Something so small, but just… it makes it bearable. Just barely, just enough. Smoothes his hair back, or makes a distracting comment, or - at the two minute mark, he grips onto Major’s hand so fucking hard that he gasps, and for half a second, he forgets the burn.

“And… done.” Simon sounds somber about his amusement having to end, but without delaying any more, he pats Major on the shoulder. “Okay, Cupcake. Go ahead, heal it up.” The dismissive pat turns into a squeeze over the joint, just a brief one. “And thanks. You did great.”

taglist: @morning-star-whump , @lthrboy, @apokolyps, @paperprinxe , @vampiresprite,

@wollemi-whump, @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees , @whumps-and-bumps , @defire, @notactuallyluska

[blippymilk]

Do You Have Something to Tell Me?

Veneer x GN!Reader

Summary: You’re a normal teen in Mount Rageous, and the biggest Veneer fan known to man. Everybody that knows you knows it too. Unfortunately it’s highly unlikely to date the celebrity of your dreams…unintentionally.

A/N: I’m working on the request but I’ve had this for a bit so I finished it today and uploaded it for the time being.Also please forgive me if I use a certain amount of pronouns. With other content I’ve made before I’ve usually made female reader content so if I say she, as in referring to you please forgive me.

Happy New Years 🥳🎉

“Seriously (____)?” one of your friends side eyed you as as you burst out in giggles in response. You had invited your two best friends over (Liliana and Romar) for your annual two night sleepovers, and currently you were killing time by watching Veneer and Velvet’s (mostly Veneer) latest concert footage. Well not really killing time according to you, it was a way of life.

“You seriously brought us over here to watch you drool over Veneer?” Liliana continued as your giggling came to a halt. “I did not invite you over here for that. Especially since I am watching Veneer AND Velvet, get it straight guys.” You replied as Romar got up and came over to your bed where you were watching on your MacBook. “Sweetie you literally zoomed in on him and cropped his sister out…” you started kicking your feet and giggling again. “This is insane, I’ve never met anyone with such an obsession over anybody ever. You don’t even pay your boyfriend this much attention.” Liliana said and Romar agreed. “Who?” You said still staring at the screen as your friends both leaned back and cocked an eyebrow at you. “Oh, Jalen…him…right.” You sighed closing your laptop.

It was silent for a while before anyone spoke again. “How about we do our favorite activity to do when we’re all together?” Romar asked as you and Liliana perked up. “SHOPPING!” You all shouted in unison.

________________________________________________________

“Let’s do a challenge guys.” You said to your friends as you all entered the Mount Rageous Mall. “Let’s put outfits together with a budget, a timer, and a person to customize.” You said as your friends agreed. “Bet. But where will we get the details from?” Liliana asked. “A generator or something.” Romar grabbed his phone and typed in a few things. The results ended up being: a budget of 35$, 40 minutes, and Romar got you, you got Liliana, and Liliana got Romar.

“On a count of three…” Liliana started, suddenly both of you almost fell over with the quick take off of Romar running through the mall. “HEY! WE’RE NOT done y-yet…and he’s gone.” She said as you both simultaneously face palmed and took off two different directions.

Your first stop was a store that was highly underrated in your opinion. It had great and reasonably priced outfits and none of your friends knew about it (yes you were gatekeeping but who cares). You ran all up and down the store for something Liliana might like. ‘Her favorite color is green, that’s a start’ you thought. You finally found a green top in her size and were now looking for some bottoms. You looked at the timer ‘32 minutes left’. You had to hurry and find some bottoms because more people started to enter the store. ‘Huh, guess this store’s not too underrated anymo-” your thoughts were cut short as you noticed someone running at the same pace towards you, and quite literally collided with them.

‘Sh*t that hurt’. The person you collided into let out a sort of high pitched “OW” that was very dramatic and dragged out. He almost sounded like…no. You sat up planning to apologize to the person, hoping it would roll over and you could be on your way. After all you only had 29 minutes left to checkout then hit up the accessory store.

“I’m sorr-”

“Ow, what the hell’s wrong with you?”

That shut you up real quick. What weren’t about to do was apologize to a blockhead. There was something weird about the way he responded. His high pitched voice had deepened when he came to his senses. “Excuse me?” You said standing up as he did too. The guy had a purple hoodie on covering his hair, but left some strands of it hanging, which was green. He had on glasses covering his eyes, pale white skin, and purple lipstick. He almost reminded of someone but you couldn’t put your finger on it.

“You should watch where you’re going next time.” The boy said dusting himself off. Now you were getting angry and the guy stuttered a bit. “Wait that’s not what I-” “Who do you think you are?” You blurted out.

“I was just saying…”

“Well maybe if you’d stop running your mouth every three seconds, your future altercations could be less painful.” And with that you grabbed your items off the floor, and made your way to the checkout leaving the boy stunned.

________________________________________________________

After hitting up the accessory store you and your friends had planned to meet up in the food court. “I seriously think I won this, like no joke.” Romar said. “Absolutely not it was me!” Liliana said shaking him. “I don’t know Lili, the outfit I picked out for you was kinda cute.” You said as you three went back and forth.

“Y’all are exhausting and I’m hungry, let’s eat.” Romar said and the disagreement was over as you three frantically traced the smells in the food court. Once in line you told your friends about the interaction with the rude guy you’d met in the store you went to. “Girl I woulda beat his as*” Lili said getting rowdy. “Uh we don’t condone violence over here mam.” Romar laughed as you two chuckled.

Once you ordered Romar offered to wait for everyone’s food and Lili took a phone call. You decided to sit down at a empty table and scroll through social media to kill time. You had scrolled endlessly for a few minutes before a Veneer edit popped up on your for you page. You stopped and watched it again, and again, and again, and maybe another time.

It’s only when a sudden voice snapped you out of your daydream, “Hey.” You jumped quickly and looked where the voice was coming from. It was that rude dude from the store earlier behind you. Rolling your eyes you quickly got up to leave but he stopped you, “Wait please don’t go.” He said. ‘He thinks I’m really gonna stay after the way he was talking to me earlier’ you thought, but you did stay.

You looked up at him waiting for him to speak again, you also noticed him eyeing your phone. The Veneer edit was still on repeat. ‘How embarrassing’ you turned your phone off and laughed nervously. You wondered if he had been behind you when you had the edit on loop, or if you were almost drooling or flustered at all.

“What is it?” You asked him as he turned his attention back to you. “Oh right um,” he sat down in the chair across from you, “I just wanted to apologize for earlier. I don’t usually act that way I actually felt really bad.” He said as you eyed him, like you were scanning him. “I’m so serious, like what I was saying I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I have a lot of things to think about right now and I guess I didn’t think too hard on how to approach the situation.” He continued. You “scanned” him even more, he seemed sincere.

Suddenly your face softened and you could to tell his worry dropped a little too. “It’s ok I get it, I’m sorry for not hearing you out I was just in a rush.” He smiled a bit at this. “So what’s your name?” He asked. “I’m (____). What about you?” You asked. “Oh I’m V-Victor.” He said almost as if he was thinking too hard. “Nice to meet you Victor.” “You too.” “So do you live around here?” You two were in such deep conversation you didn’t see your friends staring you and this boy down until the had to frantically wave at you. You let them know you’d be there soon with your face and they took off somewhere in a hurry. Actually a couple people did, there was a little crowd forming at the front of the mall.

“What’s going on?” You said looking at the front, mid conversation. Victor looked almost panicked for a moment but calmed his face. “Not sure but I think I have to get going.” He said grabbing his bags. “Ok I get it, do you mind if I ask you one more thing though?” you asked. “Hit me.” He replied. “Why are you wearing glasses, can I see your eyes before you go?” You chuckled as he did the same. “Not this time, maybe another time.” He smiled at you, grabbed his last bag, and just like that he was gone.

‘Another time?’ You thought. He’s gotta be stupid there’s like a one in a thousand chance you’ll ever run into him again at Mount Rageous. You looked down at your phone and on top of it laid a piece of paper. You opened it to find a note: “Call me sometime? ;)” with a phone number under it and Victor’s name. He was quick with it.

Was he flirting with you? Why else would he put a winky face. ‘Little does he know, I’m loyal to my boyfriend’ you thought. “And my future husband Veneer.” You thought out loud before quickly closing your mouth and hoping nobody heard you. That’s when you realized more than half of the people at the food court was gone.

Suddenly Lili came up to you and grabbed your hand, “Come on come on! (Name) you will not believe what’s happening!” She sqeauled. “What? Just tell me!” You shouted while she dragged you to the front of the mall. “No you have to see it for yourself.” She said. “Nope,” you stopped and pulled your arm back, “I won’t go until you tell me what it is.” You tried being stubborn and it was working, Lili’s eye twitched a bit. “Fine! You wanna know so bad, it’s Velvet!” She sqeauled loosing her composer. “Velvet? As in-” “THE Velvet! Superstar and sibling to your man Veneer yes!” But you had only heard up to the Veneer part because you took off.

[writebackatya]

McDuck Family Members Most Likely to Start Sh*t at Thanksgiving Dinner

Ah Thanksgiving. The holiday celebrated on the 4th Thursday of November (in America that is), one with food, family, and celebrating what we’re thankful for! (Wanna feel bad? Learn about the holiday’s origins!)

And no family is quite as big as the found family from DuckTales; so arguments are bound to happen at a dinner table filled with so many zany characters with interesting pasts and quirks. Let’s honor those who would throw the first punch at a family dinner, shall we?

Bentina Beakley

I wanna cut Beakley some slack. She most likely had a long day before dinner even started what with all the preparations she did for dinner. Not just cooking for 20+ family members plus other side/recurring characters but also the cleaning and presentation

But let’s face it. This woman can be so condescending at times. And judgmental. You just know if someone is showing up to dinner wearing jeans and sweater she’d have something to say about it. And she strikes me as someone who would slam the dishes while cleaning them only for someone to say, “Hey Beakley do you need help with the dishes?” and then she’d be like “No. It’s fine. I got them”

But it’s not fine. Go help her with the dishes. She deserves a break

Dewey Duck

When I was first thinking about this list I originally thought “No way any of the triplets would start anything on Thanksgiving” Huey is a good boy and Louie would definitely take it easy on a day where you’re legally allowed to sit around, be lazy, and eat food. But then I remembered Dewey and how much of a diva he can be

We know Dewey is an entertainer and with everyone coming to dinner, he has a huge “captive” audience that he can perform for. Whether it be an original Thanksgiving song, a one man Dewey show about the first Thanksgiving, a sonnet about a bonnet, or a very special Thanksgiving episode of Dewey Dew-Night; that kid will want all the attention in him. And the very second the spotlight is taken off, oh boy…

Gladstone Gander

Look at this prick. Don’t you wanna slap his face!?!Anyway I love Gladstone Gander, but he’s the kind of family member that just would go on and on about himself and bring every conversation back to him again and how great his life is

That’s great Gladstone. Happy for you, the rest of us have to pay for our sushi but cool. Glad your good luck is really paying off, jerk

But honestly. It’s his tone. It’s the kind of tone that gives off that he knows he’s starting shit but won’t admit it

Goldie O’Gilt

I mean, it’s Goldie. What else can I say?

Gandra Dee

Oh man. There’s so many different ways controversy would start with this morally gray ex-FOWL agent and I’m here for it. Let’s face it, out of all the characters present, Gandra Dee would most likely be the one to bring up the holiday’s horrible origins. If anyone is making it their duty to make a rich white family uncomfortable on Thanksgiving, it’s Gandra Dee

She’d get political and even directly ask Scrooge who exactly he voted for in the past two Presidential elections (he claims to be progressive, but he’s still the richest duck in the world. Just how many tax cuts is this man getting to keep that status?)

Oh and what about the treatment of her overwork and underpaid boyfriend? Why is he still working in the bathroom?

Oddly enough, I can see her and Scrooge bonding over a mutual disdain for Gladstone Gander. What a prick

Kit Cloudkicker

It’s not that exactly what Kit does that’ll start a fight, but what he doesn’t do.

Kit is the kinda guy that was supposed to bring a dessert but totally forgot to pick something up from the bakery so instead he’s stopping at the gas station on the way to dinner to pick up some Twinkies

Kit is the kinda guy that would “take a walk” before dinner and not do anything to hide the scent and now all the kids are wondering how a skunk got inside

Gyro Gearloose

It’s Gyro. Something is bound to piss him off at some point

Doofus Drake

I am so tired of the fandom not including Doofus in this found family (Louie and him made up and are friends now and BOYD is his brother, sorry it’s canon) so he’s here on the list

But he’s still a new addition to this family. And a weirdo and a rich brat with a lot of issues that someone should seriously help him with. He’s gonna make everyone uncomfortable. Is it intentional? Or is he just being Doofus? Who knows

What I do know is this, don’t eat the dish he brought.

Della, Donald, and Scrooge!

The original three!

These three are responsible for splitting up the family in the first place so it’s no surprise that they’re number one on this list!!

Yes they’ve squashed their beef with one another and moved past the Spear of Selene, but they are still themselves

The ones most likely to start shit over the dumbest things

These three are going to be bickering over who should carve the turkey. And the argument will be so loud and hectic that no one will question why a bunch of birds are eating a turkey

Anyway, hope you enjoyed this list. It wasn’t meant to slander any characters, just did it for fun. Happy Thursday everyone.

[penfz]

A Face to the Name

Sukuna x FemReader (Modern AU)

Summary: After a long a** break of settling in, getting Aika settled in, finding a babysitter, and overall just avoiding going into work physically… Y/N now has to physically go into work Lol

A/N: I’m currently making a Master List of this series. There, I will attempt to put it in an actual timeline. No promises though.

This story part does take place after The Beginning though.

Warning: mild swearing, mention of choking (in a non physical sense)

Sukuna x FemReader Master List

Welp. Y/N hated this. You were perfectly fine working from home. You enjoyed not having to actually pick an appropriate outfit for work. Cause if you could go to work in your track-pants, you most certainly would. You also enjoyed just casually sitting in on meetings through video call, making yourself a sandwich as you did. Now you guarantee during those meetings, you would be expected to at least say something, and you most definitely would not be allowed to make a sandwich during it.

With one more sigh, you left the house and drove to work. But not before grabbing your lunch bag, which Yuuji and Aika had left a sweet note about enjoying your first day at work. Such darlings.

On the other side of the street, Sukuna was already grumbling in annoyance. The sections manager was finally making an appearance at work, and he wasn’t sure what to make of them. Mostly cause they actually never said sh*t during the meeting. They muted their microphone and blocked their camera during meetings, stating that it gets extremely loud and distracting in her house.

Now Sukuna knew for sure it was a female because she often sent emails to him regarding certain deadlines and projects. And she always signed it off with her name and position. Now Sukuna should have probably done the same back, since it’s appropriate to sign off your name and position when writing emails within a company. But yeah… he never did that Lol So she always called him “Mr.Sukuna” since his email had his first name in it. That low key made him laugh, only cause he knew it probably annoyed her. She was a stickler for “proper” and “appropriate” when it came to work, Sukuna couldn’t help himself in wanting to annoy her just a little.

The house was already empty, with Yuuji leaving early to drop off Aika to school. The same Aika who had insisted on her and Yuuji leaving a sweet note in his lunch… addressed to “Suki”. Brats.

-

“I hate this.” You mumbled under your breath. And you weren’t lying. Physically being at work was weird. You were a section manager for a large project firm. You had moved cities with Aika after being promoted to a higher position, but it required you to move to a different city. No complaint on your part though, you were moving back to the city you called home, where family was. Being away from them was hard enough.

You were getting a tour of the office, being introduced to coworkers, putting faces to the names that you’ve read through your computer screen from time. In fact, you were looking for a certain person, a Mr. Sukuna. The guy, you assumed it’s a male anyways, just did little things to irk your soul. Why couldn’t he just send the documents to you if he was already done? Why wait till the deadline to do so? Why couldn’t he just answer you in a timely manner? Especially when the indicator says that the guy read your message. And why couldn’t he just sign off his name properly in emails?! So you wouldn’t have to use his first name, which you got from his work email address!

“Oh, this is Mr. Itadori.” Your colleague introduced. And instantly, your head shot up. Someone with the same last name as your child’s babysitter? Possibly a coincidence in last names.

It most certainly was not a coincidence. The man before you looked exactly like Yuuji, his pink fluffy hair a dead give away to that. But the tattoos, the large body structure, the intimidating look he gave you, this was probably Yuuji’s older brother. And he was right, he is scary looking. But scary good… cause for some reason you couldn’t take your eyes off him. Took everything in you not to laugh as youu remembered Yuuji’s words.

As if Sukuna thoughts differed from your own. He took one look at you, and he already had one word to describe you. Cute. Your body language gave off a timid vibe. Understandable, he is a pretty big guy. But this was his new manager? On screen you gave a very demanding and confident presence, but that’s probably because you were behind a screen. That was what he liked. As much as he could describe you as cute, you weren’t necessarily his type. He liked confident and bold women, not to much the shy type. There was something about a woman who could take the lead with no hesitation, that made Sukuna melt.

“Hi, Mr. Itadori. Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N L/N.” You introduced with a deep bow. Sukuna could only smirk, definitely a timid one.

“Nice to meet you. Look forward to working with you.” Sukuna replied, he definitely was going to enjoy teasing you in the future.

-

Now this time, Sukuna was baffled. Trying to keep the impressed smile off his face. He was definitely wrong in his original thoughts of you just being “cute”, and he was definitely wrong on you not being his type. Cause you most definitely were.

There was a meeting today, with your boss wanting to formally introduce you to everyone, as well as a meeting about the current projects and its timelines. There was some overlaps in the projects, resulting in slight disorganization among workers, all of them trying to figure out which part should be done first. Which resulted in missed deadlines, all of which you felt could have been avoided.

When you were called upon to address the matter with your own thoughts, Sukuna couldn’t wait to see how your timid self would respond. But in your own head, you could only sigh as you feared you’ll be looked at as a tyrant in the workplace. Oh well.

“I disagree.” You spoke up when it was your turn to speak. All eyes were on you now, with your answer defying all previous agreements. “This will certainly lead to sloppy results. The deadline is soon approaching, let’s fix the timeline of things. Have the bigger details handled by senior staff, and smaller ones handled by the interns. They’ll have to learn eventually anyways how things work in an actual work setting.”

“Giving those kind of tasks to the interns is what could result in sloppy results.” Someone else argued.

“No. Those interns worked hard to be exactly where they are now.” You explained. “Give them the chance to prove themselves and to succeed. They’re in this position cause this where they went to be, so give them that chance.”

“That’s still risky.” Another fought.

“What’s risky is this that you actually think that your current plan is working, when it's clearly not.”

Welp, you just dropped a truth bomb there, and Sukuna couldn’t help but smirk. He almost barked out a laugh. Almost.

“I agree with Y/N.” Sukuna declared. “This debate is honestly a waste of time. We either continue with what we're doing, or we follow the princess' lead and listen to her."

"Sukuna." The boss had lightly reprimanded him with using such an inappropriate to describe you. He always feared Sukuna would catch an HR complaint with the way he spoke. But it's not like you complained.

Nope, you definitely didn't complain. Instead you slightly blushed at the sound of the nickname coming from such a deep voice such as Sukuna's. You had to remind yourself that you were at work and to relax.

-

Once the meeting had ended, in your favour actually, you had either been applauded for your decision to change things. Or you were looked down upon for it, especially cause you were technically new to the your current position. But you had not let any of the whispers around you, stop you. And Sukuna noticed that. Just like a predator eyeing it's prey, Sukuna was now eyeing you.

Extra:

"Hi Suku- nii, how was work?" Yuji asked, seeing his brother already in the kitchen cooking dinner.

"It was fine brat. Where are you coming from anyways?" Sukuna asked, no pleasantries what so ever. But that never bothered Yuji.

"Oh, Aika's house. I was helping her with her homework before her mom came home." Yuji explained. "Aika said she wants to come here for dinner tomorrow. Is that ok?"

"Yeah it's fine." Sukuna answered back, not really paying much attention to things as he did the task at hand. No, his thoughts were still on you. The way you dominated your colleagues, the way you spoke to those higher then you with no remorse in your comments. That kind of personality had Sukuna in a choke hold, and his thoughts were strictly on you.

"Suku-nii."

"What?"

"Did... something good happen today?"

"What the fcuk?" Sukuna questioned as he turned to face his younger brother. "What are you on brat?"

"Cause you're burning dinner." Yuji answered innocently. He didn't want to admit that his brother got absent minded whenever his thoughts were on a girl, or he had a good date.

"FCUKKK!"

[starrybl1ss]

Last Friday Night

Sub loser!ellie x popular dom fem!reader

💌: hi hi hi!!<3 omg!!! Im finally writing again xoxo, anyways sorry for not serving more fics!! been busy:(

WARNINGS: alchohol, smut, praising, fingering

• summary౨ৎ

(Reminder: r! and ellie are in senior high (18 y.o))

Reader hosts a massive party for all the seniors at her mansion while reader's parents arent home.

𔘓

Friday nights are the best, specially when your a rich business man's daughter. He goes on business trips almost every weekend.

Your mom always goes with your dad. As a kid you always went with them every weekend. You've grown up, things are different now.

You now either host slumber parties, parties generally, or just stay alone in a huge mansion until you feel lonely and go on your phone choosing one or two of your many friends to come over.

This friday night is just another party with all the seniors invited. Everybody loves you (or your money) either way, you get your way in everything.

The room smelt like sweat. Neon lights flashing everywhere, couples here and there making out in corners that made you feel a little left out since you broke up with your boyfriend just last month.

You then brought up some treats in the middle of the crowded room with everyone bumping into eachother.

"Treats? Anyone?" Nobody really answered you. They were all too busy. The music was also really loud.

You got a little anoyyed so you walked away and sat on a chair againts the wall next to another girl.

The girl was silent. You gazed to the crowded room watching your friend, Dina, grabbing attention.

"Anybody wanna do beer-pong?" She yelled out. The crowd all yelled out "yeah!" At the same time.

"How about the party host go first?" Dina said as she looks at you followed by everyone. All eyes on you.

"Yeah! Sure.." you stood up and looked at the girl next to you. "You.... coming?" You asked her. "Sure, behind you"

You got to the table and took a ping pong ball then threw it into the plastic cup. You did it! Everybody cheered.

You grabbed the cup with alchohol and drank it all. Everyone cheered once again. You let out a small smirk.

You passed the ball to the person next to you without looking at who it is as you left. Turns out it was the girl you sat next to earlier, ellie williams.

She took the ball and threw it, she scors! Everyone cheers again and some people pats her back as she drank it.

Ellie passes the ping pong ball to another and left the table heading to the guest bathroom

𔘓

You entered to guest bathroom, you don't usually go here often. This was just the closest bathroom located.

You didn't fully closed the door since you were just touching up your makeup.

You grabbed your red lipstick and smeared it on your lips topping it with lipgloss. Feeling a little daizy with your head hurting you walked towards the door.

You don't drink that much, thats why your not used to it cause you get drunk easily.

As you were about to leave the gap between the door opened wider. Someone was entering. It was ellie.

"O-oh sorry, i didn't know there was somebody in here. T-the door wasn't locked and i just entere-"

You got closer to her grabbing the neckline of her black t-shirt and squinted your eyes. "What's you name again?" You smiled.

"El- ellie" she muttered. "Ohh yeahh, i've seen you around" you got closer and closer. Practically pressing your body againts her making her back up.

And there you are, drunk as fuck from alchocol.

You were pinning her to the door as your hand roamed around the door finding the lock and immidiently locked the door.

"Sh-should i get back outside or-" she stutters. You grabbed her face and pressed your lips againts hers making her let out a small gasp.

The kiss was messy. Your lipstick and lipgloss smeared all over her lips, jaw and even her cheeks.

"I'm sure nobody would mind if we stay a little longer..." you whisper in her ear making her shiver. "I mean, do you mind...?" You whisper again.

"I wouldn't m-mind" she replied trying to avoid eye contact.

You were a little shorter than her. You grabbed her neckline again but this time, from under her shirt.

Maybe if you weren't so drunk, this wouldn't happen. Atlas, it did.

𔘓

Things escalated quickly, You got her out of her clothes. Ellie sitting againts the wall with you infront of her.

"Your pretty" You said to her as she blushes. You lift up her chin while tilting your head, smirking like a maniac.

Without her even realizing you pumped on of your fingers in her sloppy cunt making her gasp.

"Shit...." You pumped another finger in, curling them. "Good girl" you praise her. She breathes heavily under you.

"I c-cant do this a-anymore" she said. "You can, your such a good girl" you insured her.

Ellie whimpers, over and over. "Shh.. were going to get caught" you informed her.

You both hear a knock on the door, shit... someones at the door.

You both stood up as ellie puts back her clothes next to the door, hiding as you open the lock and poked your head out a little.

Its Dina. "God, your taking so long! I thought you never used the guest bathroom anyways?" She complained. "It's my place. I go wherever i want Dina. Theres another bathroom next to the kitchen"

Dina looked like she was about to ask you something but she turned away and left.

You took a deep breath and head back in. You smirked at ellie "let's just get out of here" ellie nods.

𔘓

💌: GODDDDD SUB LOSER ELLIE GOTTA BE SO SENSITIVE:(:(

[lizaluvsthis]

What If (BR AU): SMG4 lost all of his vision during the arc?

Title: Helping Onwards, Putting Entries Living Each Soul's Sympathy

HOPELESS

Tags: Fluff/Angst/Comfort

Previous Chapter...

Summary: Four with his permanent loss of vision, it's been too difficult for him to manage. But with a help of his crew and someone in particular helped him reach up and discover something new. PART 2/2 COMPLETE

"I'm sorry..." 

Tears streamed down from his face, hiding the soft and quick breaths. This strong and emotional feeling... it was... it wasn't just nothing...

This was something...

A 'thing' he couldn't quite define it.  

But that doesn't matter either way, what matters right now is HIS condition.

"Three?" SMG4 lifted his head, in the feet of shivering from a warm heart inside. His tender for the man gave back a sad look that he could not describe.

It must be so sad... losing visions and not even knowing what Three is giving that face right now...

With no such response, Four's arms leaned forward. Letting go of Three's hand, leisurely reaching for his face. He could feel a light touch of water from his gloves with his right hand caressing Three's cheek.

"You're- are you- are you- crying?" "N-no I'm not you idiot! I wasn't crying! Just- just- something got in my eye..." 

Liar...

SMG4 thought, three wouldn't make up any excuses for that. He was Mostly bad at lying and would call him the "not-so-good-liar" whenever he lied back right in front of his face.

This was different, but he knows how Three acts this way. Even though his eyes are covered with an empty black void of nothingness, he knows SMG3 very well. 

Sure, being linked with the other guardian's emotions was something. But it got him feeling slightly confused about how Three had a blasting fill with mixed emotions when he was with Four.

He doesn't quite get the number on this, why would Three cry? Why would he tho? Honestly, I'm thinking of which. He'd barely even see the man cry at other moments of his life with him.

Not just because of something stupid like- games, or- magazines of Justin Bieber thrown out¿ his other memes lik-

Wait a minute.

"OH- SH-T!" SMG4 Screamed, with his voice bouncing back from the sound of echoes in the room were heard.

"I'M SO SORRY FOR FORGETTING ABOUT TERRANCE- I know how much it hurts losing someone you meant to, a lot."

SMG3 gasped, getting himself pulled out from the chair and held tight from Four's arms hugging him in an uncomfortable position.

Into the front where SMG4 hugged him, Three placed both hands to the sides. Keeping his position stable. "You and Terrance seem so close..." 

The tears had taken him aback, sure Terrance was his assistant. He was like a son to him. But it wasn't the reason that mattered just for it.

"He was my closest child than any other dead memes I've taken care of. Besides with any other children of mine that you killed..." 

SMG3 glared down at the memory Four had done. 

"It's... from the past... I've moved on already like I said." He dropped the subject, in mentions of Terrance. He couldn't bear to remember such painful memories and the fun times he and Terrance made.

But he couldn't blame SMG4 even tho he hated the man so much. "Do you... still hate me?" Four's hands shook, upset with the actions he'd done. 

A long pause holds within the air, contemplating to himself if he would want to tell the truth, but he'd rather shove that marker up his ass if he would too.

SMG4 had been waiting for his response, holding his patience. 

"SMG3?" 

.

..

...

"I don't know." 

When three tried to respond, he couldn't answer straight away. It felt like the words were choking his throat.

Unable to answer the most obvious things...

"What do you-" The man in white and blue spoke that us when suddenly abrupted their conversation.

A nerve-wracking scream from an Italian, barged into the room with a Mario Kart destroying the door.

With Three taking him on the cover, Four hugged himself. He didn't know how to react and if he did, what should he express? In what words will he put?

Four just stayed put, this is all enough for today. Everything that is happening puts a spiral on his head.

How could he- SMG3- protect his rival even tho they aren't enemies anymore? 

Even tho they both hate each other, the nerve of wanting to kill one another, the HATE they both keep gaining. 

But still, these actions that four had caused. Were still permanent from the things that he'd done to damage three.

How- why would SMG3 still help SMG4 after everything…?

“The door was locked.” The fat Italian hopped out of his broken kart, walking towards SMG4. SMG3 lets go of Four before Mario can even react. With each step the man’s footsteps took, Four listened to the sound of how it synched from the heart beating in his chest.

SMG3 took a step back but immediately tugged in hugging them both by Mario himself. “Mario’s-a-glad you both did it! But S-M-G-4…?” He shared glances between the two guardians, then to SMG4. He cupped his glove to Four’s right cheek, looking closer to see those grey eyes reflecting light from the ceiling. 

“I’m alright Mario, you don't have to be worried.” “BUT MARIO SHOULD WORRY!” Smg3 eyed the fat Italian, he was four’s closest friend. A dearest one. When will he ever stop thinking about this jealousy that happens whenever Mario is near him when they’ve been both PRACTICALLY TOGETHER in some ways in a fight?

He didn’t want to keep on pressing buttons. He’ll just play the role that he’ll put through.

As a Meme Guardian with a bond to one another.

“Mario has been worried about you! Thinking if you barely even made it alive but you are! He thinks you could’ve died!” He screamed “MAMA” feeling the words bounce back from the thick walls. “MARIO THINKS YOU DIED AFTER GIVING EVERYTHING FROM YOUR POWER TO SAVE YOUR GAY FRIEND!” He started whining like a baby with his tears bursting out in the corner of his eyes.

Both of the meme guardians winced at Mario’s comment when the mention of ‘gay’ was heard.

“THE HELL? I’M NOT GAY FOR HIM YOU ASS!” SMG3 smacked off Mario’s head making it form into a completely flat folded face, he sat right beside SMG4. He didn’t know what he was doing at all. He never stopped and kept on doing so. (not just because to make sure he was there. It’s to keep him safe, and to remind that he’s already got his back.)

SMG3 covered his chest with both arms, his legs tilted on the other side where he could give foursome space of his own.

Mario is a good person. In some ways when it’s for his friends, he has a kind heart and a soft one when it’s with the ones he loves the most. But he couldn’t handle pain like how Three had dealt it with his way. It pities him.

“I’m okay now Mario like I said, I just lost my vision-” “Just lost? JUST LOST?” He threw out a “MOMA F-CKER” and ranted about what could’ve gotten worse than losing both eyes for sightseeing.

“Alright, red that's enough! Cut SMG4 some slack will you?” Meggy yanked off Mario’s back overall. “He doesn’t want to!!! He needs to be on his friend’s side! AAAA!!!!!” Mario tried to resist but ended up getting pulled out of the room. 

…

And it’s just that. Once again the silence covered the room with thicker ones, both of the boys were far more speechless.

“What- what just happened…” SMG4 asked looking nowhere but upfront, SMG3 sighed pinching the bridge of his nose. “Mario is being the typical again.” SMG3 said with a slight kick of his right foot from the air.

But anyhow. Smg4 is lucky to have a friend like Mario, he knows it’s not much for the red man that could offer any good benefits but does come by very much to hang around with Four. What he’s worst at? No one knows.

If SMG3 were to think after Four has been fully recovered he can go back to the Peach’s castle and probably teach himself how to walk with a stick.

Now that’s a bit improper.

SMG3 thought, if he were to leave four right now they both are going to have such huge complications with each other or more than that- HIS PARTNER IS BLIND. So maybe the option of leaving right after is more of what a d-ckhead would do for a living, he may be a bastard for ruining and destroying Four’s life again and again. But now that he’d changed after giving up? He didn’t even care wherever four goes.

He thought he moved on already but some part of his guts pulled him close to his link. The connection he and his ex-rival shared was a bit of a match and the future’s destiny for them both to protect the universe. How would they both still use their meme energy powers even tho one is blind?

What’s worse? Leaving Four solves all of his problems now that he’s blind? Or literally, stay with him for the rest of his life?

It was an exception for him that he couldn’t even decide with his own choices. How could he, the Hero, be the one who risked his own life to save his mortal enemy?

“It hurts…”

“It hurts…”

“It hurts…”

“It hurts…”

“It hurts…”

“It hurts…”

It hurt him. How could he…? It wasn’t fair at all.

“You could’ve…” SMG3 turned his head to him. “Huh?” SMG4 never quite caught the attention of what Three ever wanted from his life, but now that he has done all that. Saving his eye, almost the result of his dying is a tragic way to think of now that you’d want to consider leaving the blind guy to deal with his own.

“You could’ve just left me out there…”

Four could’ve left three out there, back when Niles almost took out three’s right eye.

“And I didn’t, I saved you.” SMG4 calmly replied, brushing his fingers against the edge of the sheets. “I didn’t want to lose a friend of mine you know? That’s why I had to act it all out.”

“Do you still hate me?” 

He recalled his words.

Despite everything, there were no words left to say in a sentence.

“Three…?” SMG4 wanted to look three in the eyes, but he couldn’t. The man didn’t answer.

“What was the reason?”

—-

SMG3 didn’t think through, he didn't know what words he could say to the man. Why must it be so hard for him to come up with the answer rather than just saying one word? Sure he hated the man for about so long now, but the problem of him is…. 

What exactly was the problem at this point?

Why does he still hate Four? Does he? Yes? No? What is taking him so long to respond?

He doesn’t know, of course,7 he doesn’t know. What else would be a better way to tell him?

“Three, the truth. Now.”

“I-” “I need to know if you still- please…” SMG3 stared at his faded white eyes, something about it made his body tingle in such a sensitive feeling that it wouldn’t let him look away.

Staring back at the man’s eyes just made him shiver, feel guilt, and feel the bottom of his pit hit him the most. 

“Three….?” “I don’t know!” SMG3 cried out loud, both his knees now dropped down fully to the ground. Sobbing relentlessly waiting for what's going to happen next.

SMG4 stayed quiet, he didn’t know what words he could say to him but listened. 

Three moved towards Four while both of his knees were down on the floor, now holding both of Four’s hands.

“I- I hated you since before…. When we were enemies, back when I tried to steal away your videos, back before this happened, and even taking it back from the past. I’m not even sure what to think about it anymore. If I still do or not.”

SMG4 is easy to hate on, his stupid antics, his stupid sh-ts that were tossed again and again, he was just as miserable as Three is. They could never understand each of their signals. It already messed them both up one time, it could have gotten even worse if Four pushed more buttons and double-jointed his trick up his sleeve. 

He can’t blame SMG4 after assuming he’d be doing something wrong during his uprising popularity. He was the bad guy, always has. Why else would Three expect that things are okay now between him and Four even after the stupid cruel things he did to him?

“You were an -sshole, I was a f-cking disaster… I don’t even have any idea what made you still stay close here with me after the things I did…” He spat out the words from his throat, he couldn’t believe the words he was saying out loud in front of him.

Three felt the tears from his eyes wouldn’t go away. He tried to stop this heartbreaking, tried to hold it inside of him yet he failed once again. “But I-I don’t hate you anymore…” Four looked at the man in worry. “I gave up on being evil like I said, I couldn’t blame you for assuming… You still see me the way how you always do.”

“I’ll… never be… good enough…”

Four brushed the tears away with two thumbs softly pressing to his cheeks. “You’re already good enough, to me… To everyone in here isn’t that already enough for you?” He leaned closer, bumping his forehead onto his partner. 

“I may have been a b-tch to you and everything that I did. It was my fault too, not yours only so don’t blame yourself.” he ran both of his arms through his back slowly feeling each other’s breath. 

Three spotted his lips, staring, gazing, and slowly… started to get closer finding an opportunity to kiss his lips. SMG4 could feel his soft lips touching his, the burning sensation, hearts now collided together. The fluttering feeling from his stomach and his heart hammering. Four closed his eyes, seeing imaginative colors whirling yellow, blue, purple, and red  

The combination of blue and Purple made an amazing explosion pulsing of Indigo. 

He loved this feeling, he needed this feeling, they both carved their names to each other’s souls knowing that they belonged together. They finally pulled each other apart after that kiss, it was magical, it was emotional, breathtaking…

Three covered his mouth in shock at what he had just done, it started with making sure the guy was safe then kissing his lips. Does it even matter anymore? What is this strange feeling that wrapped him around? Is this the meaning of love? Did he do it after 8 years of his rivalry with the most important and loving person right in front of him?

To experience the feeling of Love?

Four was too stunned to speak with his mouth open, his eyes were in shock. His cheeks were tinted red, therefore started questioning his life between SMG3 He never thought much of it but now that he does, he was left with so many thoughts about it. 

He never thought falling in love with his arch nemesis was soon to discover each of their tainted mistakes.

“I- I’m sorry- I-I- didn’t know what came over me- Four I can-” SMG4 quirked up his cheeky grin and started giggling, by a low sound of his giggle grew louder. He started tearing up in tears of laughter. “Why are you laughing dumb-ass?!” furrowed eyebrows formed from the man in purple, the confusion on his face says it all. 

Mixed Feelings sent signals to his brain, he now wasn’t sure if Four was even joking around or laughing at him. “Are you making fun of me?” “N-no!” SMG4 flicked a tear from the corner of his eye.

“I was laughing because I never thought you’d also feel the same, it took us more than five more years just to understand…” “Understand what?” SMG3’s body stiffened after four rested both hands on his biceps. “This that we had a falling… both of us falling in love with each other at the worst moments to start.” Four smiled at Three now finally understanding what the man meant.

Three joined in, and both waves of laughter escaped out of the room’s atmosphere. They both are different, but love is always here. Unconditionally giving them strength, growing stronger day by day without even realizing it.

Love may be blind but it couldn’t be hidden. When push came to shove, his heart landed on the Blue man, and he did as well. SMG3 started hugging Four even more tightly. “Thank you…” SMG4 lowered his hand going down to place it to the man’s waist. “I’ll be here, always…. I’ll watch over you, I’ll take care of everything…” 

“Woah now, didn’t expect you had this soft side honestly I wouldn’t mind… wait- taking care of me?” SMG3 placed his hand on the man’s shoulder. “SMG1 told me I should look out and watch over you more often now. I don’t know why or what he meant about that, I wouldn’t mind honestly. At least I get to check up on you.”

SMG4 smiled weakly, he knew something that Three didn’t. 

What images he could describe when SMG1 told Four about what his arm looked like, even when Three is around now that he checks up on Four? He’ll surely know about this sooner or later.

In other ways, he won’t tell him about this just yet. 

“So, does this mean we’re both- uhh… you know?” SMG4 asked while holding Three’s hand. Three smiled back at him. “Yes, we are, unless… You don’t want to?” Three smirked making four roll his eyes now both of them flirting.

“Alright-alright we’re alright now, stop playing with my feelings.” 

-- THE END --