#the worst of the w/d lasts a whole fucking week

[monkeybeentoburntown]

never wanna take phenibut ever again

I was a fool to think I could be responsible about it this time. 7 days clean and the crippling depression and constant flight-or-flight anxiety is finally waning.

[allfearstofallto]

The way you write yandere childe makes me literally salivate omg <333 would you mind doing any of A, C, D, H, N, O, W, or Z for him? I hope you don’t feel pressured to write all or any if you don’t want to 😭

No pressure at all friend!! I love writing for Childe!! Trust me! I've been waiting for someone to ask for him!!!

TW: Dub/Non-Con, NSFW, Violence against reaader

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Childe always has cold hands. You know this, because his hands are always on you. There isn't a moment where Childe is near you where he's not touching you.

It could be something as simple as interlocking his fingers with yours or going as far to force kisses upon you, ones where it feels like he's trying to swallow you whole with his tongue down your throat.

He says he just can't keep his hands off of you and that truly does seem to be the case. His cold fingers always find a way to snake themselves onto some part of your body. A sign of affection yes, but also a warning.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

He took you because he loves you and wants you near, but Childe isn't against matching the energy you give him. He's playful at heart, after all, but even that has it's limits.

Being soft towards you is his original goal, he wants to pamper you and adore you while you're less than a few feet away. But shoot him glares or fight him off? He can do the same, the only difference is, he's stronger.

He knows that physical wounds will always heal, but that words last forever, so even when he hurts you, he tells you how much he still loves and cares about you. He's only doing this because you can't seem to stop acting up.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Childe's presence alone is against your will. He knows that, so he makes sure to always be near you. Who would've thought that such an annoying man could actually be a Fatui harbinger?

Around every corner, behind every door, it seems like he's even in every room. Childe is always there, even when you don't want him to be. He does many things that you hate, kissing you, hugging you, forcing his affection onto you whenever he pleases, but the worst thing he does is be there.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

It was just a smile. That's what you told him, but that's what he refused to believe.

You smiled at the man with the funny hat. One of Childe's coworkers if you remember correctly. That man shot you a glare and out of pure nerves you smiled back, causing him to look away with his arms crossed. A harmless interaction to you, but one that left your husband fuming.

You were called lots of things that night, slut, bitch, whore. You never smile at him, he'd yell as he fucked you with your face forced against the snowy ground. Your weren't even given the courtesy of a warm bed not when Childe was angry.

You begged him to at least take you indoors. The snow was burning your skin and worst of all, you were embarrassed that someone would see you, but he just scoffed and left another stinging slap on your already sore ass. A whore like you wants to be seen.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Punishments from Childe can either be the most painful thing you've ever experienced, or a joke made to embarrass you. It honestly just depends on what you did and most importantly, how he's feeling.

You've gotten some of the normal ones. Things like spankings and even a version of “time out” where he made you sit in a corner and think on what you did. But you've also been starved for a week with nothing, but water. Sitting at the dinner table, you'd watch him eat his meal, savoring every bite, while your stomach aches from the hunger pains. You could beg, but Childe typically stood true to his words.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

As many as he deems necessary. There are the obvious ones, like not being allowed to leave without his permission, eating your meals with him, sharing your bed with him, things that from the outside looking in seem normal, but are actually just ways for him to have more control over you.

But there are other things he does, things that are a bit more strange. He doesn't like the idea of you even gazing at another man, so all the staff are female. You're dressed to appeal to him, so you wear what he wants you to. Usually things that are revealing in nature, showing off your thighs, chest, and midriff.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

The simple answer is yes. And without hesitance too. Childe is strong. Stronger than he looks and much stronger than his carefree attitude would lead most to believe. Despite his strength, he isn't scared or worried about hurting you.

Be careful of how hard you fight, because he fights back harder. He won't hit you back because he wants to, but because he has to. He has to show you that you can't always get your way, that you can't just expect him to treat you with kindness, when you're not doing the same to him.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Not intentionally, but it does happen. After trying and failing so many times, after hurting you so much, losing yourself day after day, the light in your eyes is finally gone.

It's one of the only things he regrets. He still has you there, but you're hollow on the inside. One day you're there, the next you're just gone. He does everything in his power to completely bring you back, but he's met with dry, whispery responses from you. He knows that you're truly gone when he tempts you with an easy escape, an open door that you could walk out of with no hassle. He left, giving you the opportunity to just waltz out without him to stop you. But when he comes back, you're still there. And that door is still wide open.

[love-kurdt]

Swooping, Sloping, Cursive Letters: 21

word count: 966

PLEASE READ THIS IS ME TRYING FIRST, AS THIS STORY RELIES HEAVILY UPON THE CONTEXT OF TIMT

May 17, 1989

Dear Will,

Today started out pretty rough, since one of my tires on my bike popped when I was halfway to your house. And given how quickly Hawkins has become a fucking sauna over the past few weeks (thanks, rural midwest), it was not a blast to push my bike the rest of the way on foot. Again, I could have taken my car to begin with, but I think in some way shape or form, we crave that element of our childhoods, riding bikes through the neighborhood like old times. Plus, Lucas and I are the only ones who have cars right now, so majority rules. Anyway, I still wound up at your house about half an hour early, and we spent that time trying to figure out how to patch up and refill my tire. No dice, unfortunately. But our hands brushed a few times, so it wasn’t too inconvenient.

Jonathan ended up coming into the garage at one point to grab a few tools (he’s been helping Hop out with some home projects, like a new shelving unit for your living room and a deck out back— but you already know that, why am I going on about this?) and suggested I just share your bike with you. You laughed so loudly that I thought I was gonna puke. I forced my anxiety back down and reminded Jon of how tall I am (last time I went to the doctor they said I was 6’3”– no, I’m not kidding), and he insisted that I, “just try and sit on the handlebars, or something.” I thought the idea was insane, but you seemed to be pretty entertained by it, so I shook my head with slight embarrassment before I motioned for you to mount the bike.

You swung your leg over the bar and rested your feet on either side, a huge grin on your face. “Do your worst, Wheeler,” you told me. I was so tempted to dramatically fling myself over the handlebars like a ragdoll, but then again, I didn’t feel like throwing out my back at the ripe age of eighteen. I turned so my back faced you, reached behind me to grip the handlebars, and hoisted myself up as best as I could, while you reached a hand out to hold my side and keep me steady. I must’ve looked like a fucking praying mantis or some shit, with my knees almost hitting my chin because of how I was balancing my toes on the front fender, but I didn’t care, because your reaction was fucking priceless. You were hysterically laughing, and I couldn’t help but begin to laugh as well.

Before I knew what was happening, Jonathan had disappeared and come back within record speed, and a bright flash hit my eyes as he clicked the button on his camera. I glanced back at you, and thankfully, you didn’t look fazed at all. In fact, you said to Jonathan, “please tell me I’ll get a copy of that,” while catching your breath from laughing so hard.

After that whole debacle, we actually tried riding the bike with me in front, but you couldn’t really see on account of the top of your head barely reaching my shoulders. So we eventually gave up on trying and just walked to Dustin’s to meet the rest of the Party, since his house isn’t too far away from yours, and Jon was still busy with his project and couldn’t drive us. Which I was totally fine with, because… duh, time alone with you is time well spent. We played D&D, and I kind of got a little too invested in your campaign. I think I just love seeing you so happy. I don’t think I could ever get tired of watching you in your element.

Once the session ended, Lucas gave us a ride home (I love how I just referred to your house as my home, I might’ve gotten a little emotional just now while writing it). We walked into your living room and saw Jonathan sitting on the couch with a bunch of photos spread out across the surface of the coffee table. Apparently, he’d gone and processed all of his films at Melvald’s while we were at Dustin’s; there were two copies of the photo he’d taken earlier.

He gave me one before asking if I wanted to stay for dinner. As much as I would’ve loved to, I actually did need to take care of Holly tonight, since our parents are in Ohio right now at some conference for my dad’s job. You offered to drive me back to my house, and I tried not to look too excited as I said yes.

Once we arrived in my driveway, I leaned over the center console and hugged you, telling you I had a great time with you today. You hugged me back (you hadn’t for the first few seconds and I nearly had a panic attack) and said you had a great time with me too. I went inside, holding the freshly printed photo of us in my hand.

So… I might have framed it. I know, it’s weird and frankly kind of stalker-y, but… deal with it. You’ll never actually know about this anyway. Not unless I leave the frame sitting in plain sight when you come into my room, or if I recklessly forget to hide these letters detailing where exactly my copy of the photo went, as well as the countless times I’ve talked about wanting to kiss you. For now, I’m keeping it under my pillow. 

Okay, I’m gonna stop writing now in order to stop myself from sounding like even more of a creep than I already am.

Love,

Mike

-

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[shushthisaintmytumbla]

I guess its the Summer Solstice so here we are again! 6/21/23

Wow I knew I neglected my last pot but here we are back even later than the last one! Like i say everytime it is wild to see how much has changed in my life the past couple of years. Ups down and everything in between I come back to this spot everytime and see the growth I’ve made. All by myself. All for myself. I cant always see it but moments where I read back on the past I am brought right back to those moments and never lose sight of how I felt in the past. 

I keep seeing on TikTok that today is a Summer Solstice meaning it is a great opportunity for manifestations so lets try this out why not! I guess I’ll start by giving a quick synopsyis of my life from the past 10 months or however long (wow sorry I abandoned this for that long!!!!)

Lets start with Work. I am still at the same OI job and feel like I have grown sooo much. I cant say im perfect at my job, but I know I have made a shit load of progress that i’m very proud of. I shifted off of working with my mngr which has made the biggest impact on my happiness at the job. I was going from having weekly panic attacks to not even having to review a single email anymore. I am really proud of myself for treading through the mud and getting to the point where I am at now. Now for the manifestation segment. I am going to get a promotion soon. This SUMMER! I FEEL IT. I am such a hard worker and really have gained the experience to move up in the company. I am confident it will happen in the next couple months. I cant wait to come back here and tell you all about it. It will be my first real promotion at a job which is something that I’ve really wanted to achieve since I havent gotten to this point at any of my previous jobs. You got this Case. 

Now for relationships. Tricky subject and yep you guessed it D is still around. I have tested a coupe other relationships with E and A and C... but somehow D makes it through the motions of every single season. I do want to touch on E for a sec. I have grown to build an amazing relationship with him, but I havent seen him for a few weeks and I feel like the relationship is starting to fade. Im sick of getting 100% and then a week later not even 1%. I am fully aware it has nothing to do with me and more so his own struggles, but I do need to realize at the end of the day that its ok to want more from someone and he cant give me what I need as much as hes shown me how I can be treated in a healthy way. He’s the boy Ive always dreamt of how someone can treat/care for you, but this story just isnt ours at this point in time. Who knows what the future holds. Now D. Oh boy. As we all know its been a fucking roller coaster. I have felt the highest of highs w him and the lowest of lows. I do hold love for him (but not so sure ive ever been in love... idk what that even is lmao). We’ve gotten to a point where I feel like I have been holding my power for quite some time now. I don’t have the same anxieties as I had for him in the past and i don’t prioritize him over others. We’ve tried not speaking (jan 2023) for a couple weeks and ultimately he just came back and I allowed it. I cant cut him out of it killed me. It’s so fucking hard. I am working on figuring out his place in my life and how we can carry on without hurt, but I feel like I am slowy falling back in the trap/cycle. We had a really nice day together the other weekend and I felt those anxious attachment feelings creeping in... I need to remember the things that have happened and try to prepare for the worst, but is it crazy to say that what if we are meant for each other? The other day I was able to imagine being in a relationship with him and it shocked me how I felt so good the whole day. Idk prob the worst thought ever but.. idk.. why are we magents to each other? Lastly I wanna touch on friendships and new york life. My friends here are still the same (but Karina now lives in Miami) and I love them so much, but I’ve been feeling myself longing for my relationships in LA. There are many weekends where my friends here are out of town and I feel left alone many times. In LA I would have the comfort of my family when friends arent around, but theyre 100s of miles away from me. I really miss them so fucking much it hurts. I think the longer I am away the more and more I realize how special my family is. I especially feel bad being away from my mom. She asks me nearly everytime we talk when I’ll come back and little does she know I’ve been toying with the idea of returning once my lease is up. If not that I think I have 1 year left in me. It still shocks me to say it and feel confident in that, but I really miss my family. Thats truly the only thing pulling me back bc I love this city and who I have become here so damn much. Im not putting too much pressure on the decision as I still have 10 months on my lease, but it is in the back of my mind. I feel like I’ll lead myself to the right choice soon though. So much would change though. I told D the other day about the idea and he said he would be so sad which kinda surprised me. It would be the end for us if I did move back which im not sure is a good or bad thing. Sometimes I tell myself the love of my life is not here and I wont meet them till I move back lol. Im not sure where the future is gonna bring me, but im confident in myself to do what is right for me. Leaving my friends here would also be horrible, but at the end of the day if they are the friendships I believe them to be, we will still be as close as ever and planes exist!! I guess thats kinda it for now. But this is still the start to an amazing summer with so much fun in store I can feel it!!! I have a trip to the shore coming up next weekend and then im going back home for my bday end of july - aug. Later in the summer I am going to portugal with my family!!! and something BIIGGGG is gonna happen in the fam :o Cant write it in words here till it happens. Until then, I love you. Im proud of you. and life is always working out in my favor. <3  Love,

C

[minipisi-is-dumb]

ugh aro/ace rant is not cute nor pretty i need to vent i hate everything rn

y'know im glad so many new aspecs are here and all that but it's weird when there's barely any aspect history to even be spread.

even me being a relatively young aspec as in 6-7 years into the whole thing i remember when i felt so fucking alone and i was looking out for literal crumbs to see if it wasn't just me having an issue and even then when i found one or two things they're either gone now or just not that good looking back

like i even used to have a tumblr years ago just to look around and i ended up finding myself a little too much time exposed into "ace discourse" shit and receiving and seeing others receive threats and a lot of small bits of community destroyed and for now everyone just trying their best to get Some back and just when it seems safe even more massive hate comes back

idk maybe i am delusional but an average week for me is listening to people saying that i will rot alone and joyless if i don't get a partner eventually and getting d*ath threats and ppl telling me to kms because of me being happy to be aroace. like fucking hell this is reminding me more and more about back then and i really don't want other people specially baby aspecs to get that level of shit

like whatever is it fucked up that a teen is used to all those comments and stigma yeah but whatever why would I want my friends to go through that too??? "you only went through the last times of ace discourse and didn't even had a big acc" i was fucking 9 when i found out about ace discourse and had barely gotten internet acces and all i used to do was read those things because at LEAST those people who antes the worst for me knew that people like me existed

jeez i have friends who realized that they're aspec Because i was and am vocal about it and all that positivity jazz. like i am vocal whenever i can because i don't want to imagine anyone going through that

so just finding ppl massively telling others and me to not exist anymore just for it and not being able to do anything about it makes me so frustrated

and now we also have this weird new trend of people bashing onto us again in gringo right wing media? i am so tired i am so so done w this i even experienced shit from an aro guy at school last week telling me that my romance repulsion was "lame" i am so afraid that this won't stay in just one or two newspapers at this point

[dameronology]

I’ve been dying for a pov where fem!reader is the one that dives in the lake and gets attacked but the demo bats and Eddie being the protective boyfriend he would be would immediately jump in and save you then panic when he sees what they did to you 🫶

oh my goshhh yes the angst (also apologies for how long this took me to write work has been kicking my butt)

once again i went off on an absolute tangent w this lmao i kinda delved into the stuff a little before batgate too hope u don't mind i just LIVE for protective eddie ngl

warnings: language, mentions of injury

eddie munson, as he has proclaimed several times, tends to run from things. he ran from most of his homework in 1984 hence why he's now a super senior; he ran from jason carver in the eighth grade when he stole his animal crackers and he ran, rather ironically, from the gym teacher last week when she chased him from underneath the bleachers with a half-smoked blunt in his hand

he even tried to run from his feelings for you at first. it was mostly fear because you're golden as fuck and the best thing that ever happened to him and honestly he was just scared of hurting you

but this is eddie munson we're talking about, who regularly trips over his own fuckin shoe laces. even in a metaphorical sense, because whilst sprinting from said feelings he skidded and fell on his ass for you and realised that actually, letting himself fall in love with you wasn't the worst thing in the world

that was two years ago & now you're eddie's entire fucking heart. he might feel a bit lost about the future sometimes but he knows it's gonna be ok when you're by his side

getting tangled up in all the upside down shit was beyond what either of you could have ever imagined; honestly his reaction at first was to run, but he knew as you & the others came after him, he didn't have to anymore

you stayed with him at reefer rick's from the second you found him; half because he was a wreck and needed you there, but also because people are dying left, right and center, and he is hellbent on keeping an eye on you

eddie is glued to your hip the entire time. he's clingy at the best of times but now, he won't sleep without both his arms wrapped tightly around you and he wakes up periodically in the night to check on you

and despite the fact he's arguably more traumatised by this entire thing, eddie is constantly asking if you're ok; asking about how you're doing with recent revelations and putting on a brave face to hide his own worries

everything becomes a lot more real when you have to go out with steve, robin & nancy to find the gate. you're both kind of involved now, right? and you're deadset on proving ed's innocence so you're gonna find this fucking monster

eddie doesn't like the idea of you coming with them and getting hurt. he likes the idea of leaving you on shore even less. sometimes you gotta pick the lesser of two evils

it's like you were gonna listen to him anyways. eddie has never been able to tell you what to do

so you get in the boat with them; eddie takes the seat beside you, large hand protectively spread out on your thigh and dark eyes scouring the water ahead of you for any danger

when the compass starts going wonky with a capital "aah!" you're kinda over the whole thing and before anyone can stop you, you've lost your shoes and jacket and you're jumping in the lake

you're too quick for anyone to stop you

eddie is less then pleased when you resurface a few minutes later, announcing that you've found the gate

"why would you do that?! are you fucking insane?! why?!"

before you can argue, you're being dragged back under

even though eddie had said before that he was only brave when it came to d&d, he's diving in right after you. shoes on, jacket on, he doesn't give a shit

an unambiguous sign of true love indeed

he goes down and down after you, not really caring if the other three follow you (they do btw once they all have a moment of "what a chaotic couple")

eddie is basically kicking his way through the gate, blindly beating the shit out of every demobat he's seeing

because like HELL are they gonna get away with hurting you

he's blinded by pure, white rage really. also a little bit of fear, but that just manifests itself in said rage

eventually, when you're finally free of the bats' grip on you, eddie is on his knees by your side, one large hand holding your head and the other checking your pulse

"please tell me you're alive. jesus christ, please say you're alive because if you're not i'm going to-"

"- i'm alive!" you manage to cough out, "just about"

he's taking you in his arms in seconds, pulling you gently into his chest and holding you there, calling you a dumbass and a fucking idiot but one that he loves so fucking much it hurts me right now

robin & steve take a step back for a moment, but nancy - being nancy - is proactive, tearing up her jumper and wrapping it around the wound on your side

eddie sheds his leather jacket, wrapping it tightly around your shoulders

the entire time that you're walking through the upside down, he's got an arm around your waist and one hand holding where your cut is in order to keep pressure on it

and he lets you ride the back of his bike !! no way in hell is he making you cycle in your condition

whilst the other three are communicating with dustin & erica, eddie is ransacking the upside edition™️ of his trailer for any medical supplies

of course there are none but it's sweet that he tries

he insists on going through the gate first so that you don't have to just land straight on the mattress

even though he falls flat on his ass, he manages to catch you

eddie munson will always be there to catch you

[cynical-cemeteries]

@mahiru-no and @soony-survived did their own versions of this so i wanna do my own too!!

there's so many on here omg......

my distinct moments are when:

i first met laphlaes back in normal mode and saw him on the screen. and just Immediately knew. i would be obsessed with him

i got prompted to pick my first contract hero and my gay ass picked lairei Without Hesitation

adding onto the last one. when i finished my contract with lairei on the last day of school all the way back in sophomore year

my monarch and mei ling first met and fram thought mei ling had a crush on her and i looked at my screen like "GAY PEOPLE IN THIS GAME????"

meeting rosanna and being like "omg a little pirate"

i found those concept board screenshots of rashad and came here to basically ask "who is this fine ass man." and then became obsessed with him

someone on here posted that concept art of bianca and phrased it like she was a guy with a pretty name and a lot of us were like "ROSANNA HAS A GRANDSON???" but she was actually a fine ass woman

i saved up enough renown to get e. laph and was excited for a whole week

i finally found a way to find fanart through korean fans on twitter and had a FIELD DAY

the official blog dropped a whole bunch of themed collections of artwork and i proceeded to have Another field day. i downloaded every single one of those pictures btw.

rashad got announced for recruitment on july 1st, 2021

i got to hard mode and saw the variations of laphlaes, lucilicca, and lairei. proceeded to go insane.

bianca got announced for recruitment on august 1st, 2021

the whole nerfing situation happened with d. joshua

i met the far east trio and fell for all 3 of them

laphlaes got his first outfit and all of tumblr just EXPLODED

solphi and alev got their first outfits and all of tumblr exploded AGAIN because of the gay ass implications

i got to meet syphfride in extreme mode and got super happy. but then it was only two stages. and i got super confused

the december 2021 holiday illustration dropped and i finally had official art crumbs of rashad and bianca

the war of the tyrants story mode got announced in march of 2022 and i proceeded to go insane

that visual for the first 4 WoT hero appearances dropped on the anniversary stream,, and i looked at raligon and felt myself becoming obsessed with another blorbo

the lairei midnight edition concept art was shown on that same stream and i could not stop thinking about it

i opened the tag and saw two screenshots of raligon's story poses from chapter 2 and i was like "OMG HES SOOOO CUTEEJSKJHDKJSAHFKJDF"

i finally got more lore on brandon and he helped me realize how much i connect with him

the official blog dropped an english translation on brandon's letter to raligon and branrali nation finally had some fucking food to munch on

w. rosanna FINALLY got announced for recruitment back in like august of 2022 but she was $45 and i proceeded to have the worst day of my entire life ever

the commander class happened. (derogatory)

[finelinevogue]

Thanks can you write something about one of the kids getting hate online from jealous people and how it affects them and what Harry and Y/N do

hello!! so this one is going to be about isabelle getting hate (😔), which you will find out why. i’m also changing the age gaps between them because it’s so hard to write with larger age gaps. so here isabelle is 16, felix is 19 and oli is 21!!

“Mum!”

You had been busy ironing the clothes downstairs, whilst watching ‘Call the Midwife’ on the TV, when you heard Felix shouting you from upstairs.

“What?” You shouted back, moving from the lounge to the bottom of the stairs to hear better.

“I think you should see this.”

When your children say things like this you either roll your eyes when you find out they wanted to show you a meme, or panic because some rumour has been spread all over the internet of them.

“Just hang on a minute!” Your attention diverted to the front door being opened harshly. Everyone else was already home but Belle, so it must’ve been her. It was a Wednesday today and Belle always had study group in the library after-school on a Wednesday, although today she was back a little earlier than normal.

You moved the latch off the porch door and opened it to welcome Belle home, watching as she threw off her high-top converse aggressively.

“Hiya love, you alr—” You didn’t get to finish before you saw that her eyes were red and puffy, tears streaming down her face like a cascading waterfall. Her mascara was smudged and made it look like she hadn’t slept for weeks. “Woah, hey, Belle?”

Belle didn’t listen to you though, instead she stormed past and ran up the stairs and a minute later you heard her bedroom door slam shut.

What the fuck was that about?

“Minute too late mum!” Felix shouted again, making you roll your eyes in annoyance. However, it did confirm that something had happened to Belle on social media or over the internet and you had to get Harry on top of this now.

You walked down the stairs, into your basement - which Harry had converted into a sound-proof studio - and saw him sat with a guitar on his lap and pencil between his teeth, playing around with chords on repeat.

“Babe?” You knocked on the door as you spoke, Harry looking up from where he was sat to you and smiling as bright as ever.

“You alright love?” He asked sweetly, taking the pencil out of his mouth first.

“I am yeah, but Belle’s just come home crying and shut herself in her room.” You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to work through everything that had happened and wondering whether you’d done something or not done something.

Harry instantly got to his feet, putting everything down so that he could come over to you. He placed his warm hands on your cheeks and kissed your lips once just because, “I know what you’re thinking, so stop it. Something’s probably happened at school. Let me go talk to her, okay?” You nodded in agreement and sighed in thanks.

Belle had always been more of a daddy’s girl than a mommy’s girl, and that was okay. It just meant that she was more open to her feelings and her heart with her dad than you, not to say she never talked to you about things like that. Harry always filled you in on things, though, and would prompt you to talk to her if he thought extremely necessary. Belle liked to work things out by herself normally, not liking to be a burden to anyone - a lot like you actually.

Harry walked out of the room and climbed the stairs two at a time until he made it outside Belle’s room. He knocked before entering, but Belle made no sound for him to enter.

“Belles?” Harry asked softly, shutting the door and walking over to her bed which she was curled up on. She had obviously flopped on the bed and began crying, because there was no sign of effort to get under the covers or get comfortable.

“D-dad?” She mumbled roughly, her choked sobs holding her back.

“Yes sweetheart, i’m here.” Harry sat down on the edge of her bed and sat their patiently. He didn’t want to invade her space or make her feel claustrophobic, so he waited for her to come to him and that didn’t take long. She sprang up and hugged him with her head buried against her dad’s chest, sobbing so violently that Harry’s heart cracked in two. He hated to see his baby cry. It was his biggest weakness.

Belle made an attempt to speak but Harry couldn’t understand due to the shear heaviness of her cries.

“Belles, y’gotta calm down for me, my heart. Gotta breathe it out before you make yourself sick.” He smoothed his hand over the back of her hair, like he’d always done. Her breathing ever-so-slowly coming back down to a normal and healthy pace. “That’s it, thank you.” He kissed the top of her head and held her tightly still.

“Dad?” She shakily started.

“Yes love.”

“Do y-you know?” She sat up so she could face her dad, bur Harry didn’t let his hands leave hers.

“Know what, sweetheart?”

Harry genuinely didn’t know and Belle could see that in his honest, kind, eyes.

“T-that…” Belle started tearing up again, her bottom lip wobbling like sailors legs.

“Hey, calm down. You’re okay. Breathe and then talk to me, okay?” Harry ordered her, not caring if this took all night. He was here for his baby girl whenever and wherever, no exceptions. If she didn’t ever tell him, that was okay as long as he helped her build up her happiness again. A few deep breaths later and she was feeling more comfortable.

“I..,” she paused momentarily to collect her words before letting them flow out beautifully, “i’m gay dad.”

Warmth spread through Harry’s heart as if he were torch that’d just been set alight. He could only put the way he felt into one word; proud. He was so proud that his daughter was turning into the loving and open and beautiful woman she was always born to be. He was also just so happy that she had the confidence in him to tell him something so important to her.

“I’m so proud of you, Belle.”

“Really?” She sounded surprised, which made Harry take a step back in confusion.

“Yes of course,” Harry squeezed her hand just a little tighter, “have I ever given you a reason to think otherwise?”

“No.”

“Then where’s this doubt coming from hey?”

Belle began to cry again at his question.

“T-the media found out and i-it’s been published everywhere a-and I w-was worried I wouldn’t b-be able to tell you myself b-before they could. They’re being s-so rude too.” Her cries broke Harry all over again. As much as he was proud of her for coming out so bravely, he was incredibly pissed off that the media thought it was there business to pass around before Belle was even comfortable admitting it first. It’s Belle’s right to come out when she wants and how she wants and Harry could understand how frustrating and upsetting that must be to have it all taken away. He had to keep calm for Belle though, pulling her back into his chest to hold her safely.

“What are they saying?”

Anger bubbled through Harry’s veins as she began to speak.

“That i’m only gay to promote the values you stand for or that you’ll be disappointed that not all your children are straight.”

Harry’s fingers curled at her words, not understanding how much of a low-life you have to be to genuinely type and publish these things about a child, let alone his child. He was furious and he was going to burn - metaphorically - the people responsible for this abuse.

“How did they find out?”

Instead of her saying anything she pulled up a picture of the article online - released by ‘The Sun’ unsurprisingly as they were the worst for paparazzi stalking - and it all started to piece together.

The article headlined a picture of Belle and another girl, kissing outside of school. The study group mustn’t have been exclusively studying. Harry didn’t focus on the shitty article, he instead focused on how the smile on Belle’s face was the widest he’d ever seen.

“You look very happy.” Harry tried to make light of the situation for his daughter.

“I am. They make me very happy.” Belle blushed and Harry caught on.

“And they’re called?”

“Megan.”

“Megan,” Harry repeated the name, getting a feel for the way it sounded for future use, “well they seem lovely.”

“Dad you’ve only seen them through a picture of us kissing.” Belle rolled her eyes and Harry reached out to dab the tears away, not minding that his sleeve was becoming heavily damp.

“Shut up you,” he laughed causing a smile to leap onto Belles face too, “do we get to meet them?”

“Hopefully,” Belle smiles, before looking down to her lap with furrowed brows, “that is, if they still like me after this whole media shambles.” Belle let out a breathe of shaky air and Harry caught her anxiety before she could let herself run off with it.

“Let me take care of that, don’t worry yourself over it, okay?” Belle nodded.

“Do I have to make like a statement or anything?”

“You do whatever you want to, Belles, and i’ll love you no matter what.”

And with that Harry left the room, a smile on his face for feeling like the proudest most happiest parent on the planet. It only lasted a few minutes though, because now it was time to make some phone calls and sue a few people.

[10millionyearsdungeon]

Reminiscence - Second Tempo

A/N: So! Second Tempo is a continuation of the First Tempo posted here. Just like the last, it’s part of the Haikyuu! HQ Server Collab; check out the rest of the work on the flaming smut pile.  ===================================================

“Oi, it’s Ukai. Leave a message.” “Oh, Keishin…” Your body writhed against your fingers, phone pressed against your ear as another gasping moan ripped through you. The pads of your fingertips glided over your sensitive nub effortlessly as you grinned into the phone balanced between your shoulder and your ear. The game of cat and mouse had been going on for well over six months between yourself and Keishin; the ceaseless war of attrition had the teams and your students wondering who would break first. An international volleyball conference had you and the Karasuno girls’ team pulled away from Miyagi, from the handsome coach with those sharp, leering eyes.

“I know you’re away for training camp with the team…But I need you, Keishin.” Lust coated every syllable, each word dripping with desire as your fingers teased over your nipples and dripping folds. Another lascivious moan echoed into the receiver as you slipped a single dainty finger into your twitching hole. “I can’t seem to keep my hands off of myself…god, I wish it was your fingers slipping inside this tight, needy hole…” Sprawled out on your hotel room bed fresh from a shower, your wet hair plastered itself against your neck as you continued to rock into your own hand. 

He invaded your thoughts; like intrusive kudzu he wrapped himself around your senses even halfway across the world. Did he know how you had ruined two pairs of panties at the last voicemail he sent you before the girls’ last match that day? Did he realize how desperate you were to be home? Could he hear it in your voice? 

“Keishin,” you whined out, fingertip just brushing your g-spot. With a soft growl, you snatched your phone from your ear and put the device on speaker so you could angle yourself to reach deeper. With your body able to contort a little easier, the phone rested next to your flushing face against the pillowcase. Your body jolted into waves of pleasure as your legs tensed into your stroking. “Fuck, I can’t wait to come home, oh fuck, oh fuck, Keishin…”

The familiar stars dotted your vision as you bucked into your hand, clit rubbing fitfully into the meat of your delicate palm. You could almost see the flash of bleached-blond hair, the tanned skin stretched across those long, toned forearms. Painfully arching your wrist to drive your curling fingers into that familiar, soft spot you clenched tightly around your thin digits. You couldn’t fight the orgasm that threatened to overtake you quicker than anticipated. “Oh, fuck, Kei…Keishin!” Your words were gasping, breathless sounds, the same sounds he took pride in drawing out of you. 

“It should be your cock I’m cumming on. Why isn’t it your cock, Keishin? Fuck, I…” Another cry left you trembling as you came around your fingers. The ecstacy you felt solo was a pale shade of what you had grown used to with the snarky coach. You whimpered into the phone and shifted the sheets around you, arms hopelessly searching for him in the stark white abyss of your hollow afterglow. 

“I can’t wait to see you, Keishin…Until then,” you closed and hung up the phone. A small grin bloomed over your features as you came down from your brief high. The back and forth of phone tag and stolen video chats for the past week made you long for the thug-faced twenty-something coach fiercer than you could imagine. For the moment, the extra pillows in your bed would have to suffice as a sub-par substitute before you could nuzzle into the warmth and inhale the smoke and sweat from his skin again.

~

It was a long day of drills and penalties for the Karasuno Boys’ Volleyball Club at the joint training camp with Fukurodani and Nekoma. The boys continued to run themselves full tort against the other two teams, trying to refine and rebuild their skills on the court. Keishin found himself getting frustrated with the lack of progress the team was making, even considering the upperclassmen were bordering on complacency. Daichi assured him they were trying their best and maybe it was time for their coach to take a break. 

He ambled from the gym with a lazy kind of grace and fumbled for his cigarettes and phone from his pockets. His eyebrows shot up in surprise at the voicemail notification he saw across the screen. The tiniest of cocky grins stretched his mouth into a crooked curve as his thumb hovered over the play button. “Damn, must’ve just missed her,” he sighed, pressing play and holding the phone to his ear. The second your moan, your deliciously sinful voice graced his ears his face heated up and his ears flushed a deep red. Your voice went straight to the growing tent in his sweats, an ache he would be sure you repay you for in kind when you returned. The wailing fit on the other end was audible to passers by as the flustered coach turned the volume down with thick, numb thumbs. A dark-haired Fukurodani student passed by, green eyes narrowed at the coach’s flustered appearance and wordlessly made his way into the gym, no doubt to start another four-on-four match with the boys of Karasuno. At the end of your message, Keishin leaned into the brick of the gym and finally lit his cigarette. He took a long drag, longer than he would have normally if it wasn’t for your scintillating voicemail. Once his heart slowed, his thumbs furiously typed out a reply. K- You could have warned me, little girl. Y- And ruin the surprise? You liked it. :)

K- Time and place. Y- Is that all you have to say? :( This different timezone stuff is the worst, Keishin.

K- That’s something we can agree on. It’s just another day, right? Y- I’ll be home the day after tomorrow. Closing ceremonies run until tomorrow afternoon, but flight leaves a day after. K- Text me next time, little girl. And tell the girls to kick ass during their last exhibition match. Y- Does it make you mad that my team’s doing better than yours, Mr. Big Bad Daddy Crow? >:D

K- Just wait, little girl. You haven’t earned your wings yet. We’ll see how much fight you have in you with my hand around that pretty neck of yours and your lips wrapped around my cock. 

He chuckled darkly at the thought of your ruined face, chest heaving, gasping for oxygen as he held your lips against the hilt of his cock. He knew you well enough to know that your face would be about thirty shades redder than his was listening to your siren song after reading his message. God, you were never more beautiful to him than when you were sobbing out for release, begging for him to make you his. Fewer things kept him warmer at night when his wide palm wrapped around his cock than thoughts of you with that lewd, haunting passion playing in your eyes. When you didn’t reply, he shook his blond head and snuffed out his smoldering cigarette filter against the wall. Of course you’d have your fingers stuffing your cunt; it couldn’t compare to his touch. He adjusted his headband deftly and pocketed his phone again, only glancing down at his cock, half-mast for a moment before another distraction pulled him away from his thoughts. Two days were going to feel like an eternity. At least he had your voice in his pocket. 

~

You yawned as your girls took the court in their last match against the American team. The manager eyed you suspiciously as you blearily watched the game unfold. “Long night, Coach?” You nodded and hummed, rubbing your eyes. The boy stood a whole head taller than you, appraising your drowsy visage. “Must be hard being away from home.” “Mmmhm. It’s easy to miss home from so far away.” “I’m sure Coach Ukai feels the same way, Y/n.” “Toshi!” Your tone was scandalized in your chiding as the younger boy stifled a chuckle. “We should be focusing on the girls. How do you think they’ll do today?” He smiled, pride swelling as he watched his team warm up. “It’s been a long week.” “They’re tired, but they’ll push through. We’ve taken the W with less in the tank before.” It was your turn to feel proud of your girls. It was true– their rise to the top, for the acknowledgement that came with the invite to a tourney on the international stage was huge, even if it was just an exhibition tourney. There was something about the game that kept you grounded despite the tumultuous turns of your life. It brought you back to those long-thought forgotten memories, brought you closer to your high-school crush. Part of you was glad you took on coaching the counterpoint to the boys’ club; it brought meaning to your career to that point. “Michimiya! Remember, it’s supposed to be fun!” you called out to your team captain, Toshi nodding in agreement solemnly from the sidelines. Aihara, your ace nodded and gave a quick thumbs up before the ball went into play. Before the other team had a chance to receive the serve, your attention was pulled from the court to the vibrating phone in your tracksuit pocket. You had half a mind to silence it, leave it ignored and let it go to voicemail. Your attention should have been on your team, your girls, but… You pulled the phone from your pocket and bit your lip at the sight of his name reading across the screen. You excused yourself from the sidelines and made your way to the hallway leading to the locker room, bringing the device to your ear. “You were gonna keep me waiting, little girl? That’s no way to earn your wings,” his voice rasped out between hurried pants. “Oh, fuck…” Heat crept up your neck from your neat, white tracksuit jacket. Suddenly, everything was too hot. You worried your lip between your teeth and fought back a whimper as Keishin growled in your ear. You did some quick maths in your dazed state and gasped into your phone. “You should be asleep, Keishin! It’s nearly two in the morning…” “Couldn’t sleep, not when I had to get you back, naughty little girl. Did it feel good cumming on those fingers without me? Did it satisfy you knowing you were cumming without my permission? Was it worth it?” “I…” “Answer me, little girl,” he continued to groan, the sound of skin gliding across skin caressing your eardrums between his moans. You could practically feel his smug expression over the phone. The sinful breath on your ear had you wishing you could be there to watch, to touch him and run your fingers through his hair as he worked his cock in that large hand he loved to wrap around your blushing throat. “I’m waiting,” he teased. “It can’t compare,” you whispered, striding with hurried steps into the locker room. His voice frayed at the edges and had you practically dripping down your thighs under your track pants. The power his voice had over your body was undeniable. “I couldn’t help myself. I…” “Aw, poor little bird. At least you’re honest.” You tried to swallow around the lump in your throat at the nickname, but struggled. Mouth dry and thighs coated in your slick, you struggled to find your way back to reason, to the here and now. Half a world away, you sunk to the locker room bench and let out a shuddering sigh at the sound of the other coach’s debauched moans. He was close, that much you could tell. How long had he been stroking that thick cock? Was he imagining your lips cradling his glans, your saliva dripping down his balls? Could he see you dragging his head along your lips and your eyes peering up at him through a fringe of dark lashes? How many times did he listen to your voicemail before he thought to call you and dish out a dose of your own medicine? “Tell me you want me. Tell me you need me like I need you, little girl.” “I…I want you,” you whimpered, balancing your phone between your shoulder and your ear. You fumbled with your track pants and slid them hastily to your knees, your practiced fingers rubbing yourself through your soaked cotton panties. “Oh, Keishin, I need you.” You bit back a soft moan, still tender from your activities from the night prior. “That’s it, little bird. Don’t stifle yourself. Let me hear you. Where did that gorgeous voice go?” “I…Keishin, I’m at the tournament,” you gasped, that sensitive nub twitching with arousal under your busy fingertips. He let out a surprised grunt and you swore you could feel him double over on himself. “Fuck…fuck, Y/n, I never took you to be such an exhibitionist. My little bird’s getting brave on me, huh?” The sound of the door to the locker room opening made you freeze for a second before shuffling your pants back up your thighs. “Coach? Coach, are you okay? The other team’s called a time-out. Did you want to do a swap?” Toshi’s earnest voice echoed in the otherwise empty room as you struggled to get the words out without sounding like you were another second away from moaning like a porn star for the man on the other side of your call. “Answer him, little bird. Don’t stop touching that clit for me. Let’s see you earn those wings…” “Ah…yeah, have Watabe swap in. I…I need a minute. Must have been something I ate this morning.” Keishin grinned on the other end, still stroking himself languidly as he listened to you lie through your teeth to your team manager. When you heard him retreat back into the gym, you let out a shuddering sigh, your legs trembling around your hand. “Such a good little bird. I’m close. You gonna come with me?” You nodded as if he could see you, still focused on the sounds coming from your phone. His breath hitched as he choked on his moans, movement stilling on his end of the phone call. You gasped in tandem, fingertips slipping inside your waiting heat. He must have known you were close based on your breathing alone. He let you continue until he howled out his release, leaving you breathless at how completely beautiful he could sound coming undone at the thought of you. “Please, please, Keishin,” you huffed out, sweat trickled down your neck as you ground yourself into your fingers, stretching against your slick, velveteen walls. “Stop.” “But-” “I said stop, Y/n.” “But…but Keishin…” “Naughty little girls don’t get to cum when they’re bad. Mm, I’ll see you tomorrow. Good luck, Y/n,” he teased again before hanging up. You sat in silence, frustrated and slick with your own fluids. Aggravated, you pulled your pants up the rest of the way and stripped off your jacket. Approaching the sink, you patted cool water against your burning skin and stared yourself down in the mirror. So it was another challenge he wanted? You had him eating crow out of your beautifully manicured hands before and you could do it again. Your team wouldn’t be the only ones getting a win. A plan came together, neatly, quickly despite the lingering haze of lust. Spite and frustration cut through your need like a white hot razor, and all you could fixate on was the thrill of victory both on and off the court. “Setters aren’t the only big brains on the court,” you mused to yourself as you reappeared on the court, hands buried deeply into your pockets. Toshi cast a sidelong glance in your direction, subtly taking in the hard set of your jaw and the color rising in your cheeks as you stared down the opposing team’s coach from across the gym. You grit your teeth, eyes dark with determination. If he wasn’t mistaken, he almost thought you were taking this game more seriously than just a simple exhibition match. Regardless of the reason, the team manager found himself grateful he wasn’t the object of your ire. “Hit it ‘til it breaks, Sasaki!!” Your yell rattled the team manager as it echoed through the gym over the roar of the crowd. The puddle in your panties only fueled your frustration the longer you dwelled on Keishin’s denial. You wanted to breathe smoke, to destroy something beautiful just to prove you could. “Stupid, big-brain setter,” you growled under your breath as your team took another point from the Americans. “Coach, why do I get the feeling you aren’t talking about the other team?” “C’mon, girls, you’re better conditioned than that!! Go for the kill!!” “Yeah, you’re definitely not talking about the other team.” The conference couldn’t be done soon enough, and the next two days were going to feel like the longest of their lives. ~ Few things in life brought Keishin Ukai more solace than quiet mornings over a cup of coffee. The only thing that could have made it better was your groggy face smiling sleepily across the table at him. Sunlight bled through the kitchen blinds, staining everything in garish gold and yellow in the pale light. Hair loose, he carded his long fingers through his bedhead with casual grace and absently scrolled through his phone as the coffee continued to brew. It would be just a few hours before you would be home; he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t excited for your return. In the safety of his home, he could let some of that boyish glee bleed out as he searched through your old photos. As if he could forget your face, the sway of those devastating hips, or the way you’d catch your lower lip between your teeth when you were flustered. As much as he owned you, the power you held over him and his emotions was undeniable. From the moment you stepped foot on his court he was your willing captive. He set his phone aside to pour himself his first of what would be many cups of coffee. He allowed himself a moment to bask in the heady aroma, dark and bitter before it hit his tongue. Relaxing in his seat a little more, he sighed through his nose. The chiming of a text alert pulled him from his brief reprieve. Y- Good morning, Daddy Crow :D! We’ll be home in a few hours. I can’t wait to see you. Keishin chuckled into his steaming mug and took a long sip. Wryly amused and even a little annoyed by your pet name for him, he typed out his reply unhurried. K- We’ll see how tired you are when you get back. Ten hours and change is a long time to spend in the air.

Y- Don’t remind me. No idea what I’m going to do to stay occupied. 

K- I can think of a few distractions. 

He waited, watching the ellipsis flicker over the text banner for your reply, his heart rate picking up in anticipation. What fresh hell awaited him when you finally hit send? Vaguely he had an idea of how badly you wanted to get back at him for leaving you hanging during his last call, but you were too sweet, far too forgiving to want revenge. Y- I’m sure you can. What do you have lined up for today?

K- Not a thing. Just waiting on you. It wasn’t like you to not take his bait; he could practically feel the ice from your reply. Was it the distance? You were only gone for a week, but was it enough time for your relationship to cool? “Shit,” he muttered, rolling a cigarette between his fingers as he reread your reply another six times. “Guess she is mad…” He mused and fussed over your text before lighting the paper tip and taking a careless drag. The blue-gray haze hung around his kitchen like a comforting veil. He waited another moment before he saw you typing another response. He tore his gaze away from the device to ash his cigarette in an empty beer bottle he had sitting on the kitchen table; when he returned to it, the sight that met him had him melting in his chair. Your delicate frame was seated on a sea of white, the barest hint of emerald lace curling in elegant patterns along the swell of your ass. Hair pulled to one side in effortless waves of jet, your bare back was on full display, tantalizing him with the gentle curve of your spine and adorable dimples framing your tailbone. Your face in profile, he could see the faint rose dusting your cheeks and nose, the dreamy sparkle playing in your eyes as you held your breasts away from view. He knew that far-away gaze all too well– it played behind your eyes when you would look at him, when you would think about his strong hands exploring your body. His eyes lingered on the definition of your thighs, all the while longing he could feel them squeezing his head as you trembled into his waiting mouth. It wasn’t the lewdest photo he’d ever seen, but it hit differently when it was you. His mouth went dry and he felt himself get lost in every detail, as if he could memorize every scar, every freckle if he stared long enough. Y- Enjoy your distraction, Keishin.

When did you find the time to take photos? Was that the only one? Questions raced through his mind as he lingered on the picture, fingertip tracing along the swell of your hips. God, he was such a sucker for those wide hips and built thighs. He might have admired your drive and ability to keep up and run drills with your team, but he really wanted to see just how far he could push you until you broke.

“It’s just ten more hours. I can hold out for ten hours.” ~ Six months together and it took a week apart for him to salivate over the smell of your perfume. All the distance, despite the frequent calls and text messages, only intensified his undeniable thirst. You were his meet-cute, the high school crush who got away. There would always be that part of him that wondered how he got so lucky crossing your path not once but twice in his lifetime. If he were a betting man, he’d probably put more stock in fate or soulmates after meeting you, but it wasn’t his style to be so sentimental. Travel always took a lot out of you. Keishin caught you yawning on your way from the baggage claim, only aware enough to know where to step without tripping. Grinning like a fiend, he took his moment and pulled you into an empty lounge. Startled, you swung your first and jerked out of his hold, only stopping your thrashing when you caught the bemused twenty-something rubbing his stubbled jaw. “Fucking hell, is that anyway to say hello, little girl?” “Oh my god, Keishin!” Your hands flew to his face and he could have died a happy man on the spot. “I’m so sorry! You can’t just do that!” Your chest tightened at the rumbling chuckle that reverberated under your fingertips. “Keishin,” you sighed, holding his stubbled face in your thin hands. Studying the sharp planes of his face, your eyes practically sparkled with delight. He was here, real under your palms flashing that same cocksure grin that had you flustered since you first stepped up to challenge him on the court. “You gonna keep staring at me or what, little bird? C’mon, let’s ge-!” Rising to your toes, you pulled him to your lips and left him struggling to catch his breath, your perfume lingering after you withdrew and bounced away, tugging him along from the airport lobby. Head swimming, he followed, allowing you to lead him around until you remembered who drove and the simple fact that you had no idea where the car was. It was easy to forget you were an accomplished adult when you let your excitement take the wheel, but it brought Keishin closer to what might have been before you disappeared when you were still children. He never got the chance to watch you play back then, a regret he tucked away with the first night you murmured his name in your sleep. His single-minded ambition kept him from really seizing the chance to get to know you as a person instead of an idea back then. Packed away in his well-loved sedan, you couldn’t help but fidget in the passenger seat, anxiously bouncing your foot below the dash. Unfazed, he reached over and placed a hand on your knee, halting the bouncing movement with a stern glance. Color bloomed in your cheeks at the gesture, body relaxing just enough under the warmth of his palm. Braver still, he slowly ran his fingertips along the line of your thigh, stopping just below the clothed apex of your leg. Keishin never took his eyes off the road, but he knew just where to brush to make your blood sing. He followed your movements, subtly tracking your reactions to his innocent caressing. 

“Don’t get shy on me now, little bird.” 

The bait was set, almost painfully obvious as you continued to squirm into his waiting palm. “I’m not shy. I’m..”

“You’re what? Use your words,” he smirked, dragging his knuckles against your sex. The motion was so casual you might have applauded him for his audacity if it hadn’t been a week since you felt him touch you. Muddled between your jet lag and the growing haze of lust ensnaring your senses, you fumbled over your words and whimpered something about thinking about how much you missed him. “That’s what I thought.” Whether it was the nonchalance or the gentle pressure he exerted on your core, you felt yourself slip closer into that familiar euphoric headspace. It was almost embarrassing how wrapped around his finger he had you; it wouldn’t be long before he’d have you wrapped around him literally as well. 

~

You wanted to scream, to gnash your teeth and beat something to a bloody pulp. At least you could take out your frustrations on the court. The girls took the day to strength train in the school’s weight room, leaving you to your own devices in the second gym. You could see his almost-apologetic face, the slight upturn of his lips when he sent you to work with a chaste peck on your hair. 

“I just couldn’t bear to wake you…”

“Tch, likely story. Stupid, big-brain setter!” You hissed through your teeth and imagined it was his disembodied head you were spiking over the net with a satisfying crack. Your attentive team manager threw another ball and watched as you continued to fume. 

“Are you trying to pop a ball, sensei?" 

"Less talk, more throw, Toshi.” He shook his head and tossed another ball, only for you to bounce it off the floor twice to center yourself before your inevitable spike. Unsatisfied, you shook your ponytail and jogged to the opposite end of the gym to practice your jump serve. Toshi watched on, hanging his head as you sent another ball flying in his direction. “Jesus Christ, Himewari!” he screeched, ducking out of the way. You huffed in irritation, barely registering the clattering of gym doors opening. The ball rested daintily in your hand, your eyes narrowed with the smooth rubber leaving your palm before the inevitable punch. Keishin knew better than to leave the safety of the annex when you were serving, but he could watch you soar forever. Leaned against the cool wall, his headband gently digging into his scalp with his blond head resting into the drywall, he couldn’t help the crinkle of his eyes when your hand finally connected with the abused ball. Sweat glistened like diamond dust on your skin, the crop top you wore doing nothing to temper his wandering gaze. As you hung in the air, he hummed to himself, remembering Shimizu’s words when he first saw you serve. “You really do have wings, little bird…” When you landed and reached for another ball he made his presence known, his footsteps falling faintly over your light panting. This was how he liked you best, dark hair mussed and sweat dripping down the valley of your breasts. It was almost a shame, he thought to himself, that he wasn’t the one making you such a mess. He stopped just a few feet behind you only to catch the tail end of your cursing his name for leaving you high and dry on your return. As if sensing the change in the atmosphere, like catching the faint scent of ozone on the wind before a squall, Toshi took his leave and escaped into the weight room, leaving you alone with the other coach. Caught mid-approach, Keishin wrapped his arms around your smaller frame and buried his nose into your ponytail. You froze at the sudden intrusion of your personal space and the ball fell from your waiting palm, its fall echoing through the empty gym. “Thought I’d find you here,” he purred. Hackles raised, you pushed away from him and made a dash for your club jacket. Keishin used his height and longer legs to his advantage and followed close behind. If it was a chase you wanted, he’d give it to you. He let you sprint to the locker room, hand resting on the handle before he turned you by the shoulders and caged you against the wall between his arms. Looming over you, he smirked and licked his lips at the deepening flush creeping down your neck and across your collarbones. He smelled like tobacco and neroli, his cologne making your head spin. The smoke lingering on his breath had your thoughts racing– you were in high school again, fantasizing about being trapped in those arms with those sharp eyes drinking your timid expression so patiently. “What’s the matter, little girl?” he started smugly. His pupils dilated, leaning his head in to bear down on you further. “Can’t rise to the challenge? Where’d all that fight go?” Keishin licked his teeth and breathed into your ear. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you,” he teased, running his nose along your hairline. Your breath hitched; how did he always know how to make you feel so small? The thought incited more anger, more fuel to the fire burning in your belly as you jerked your ear away from his hot breath. “No, you don’t get to do that. I’m not going to let you win that easily, Keishin.” Your voice was low, almost dangerous. The animosity was one-sided, and the other coach snickered at your new-found boldness. “I don’t think you get it, little bird,” he growled, wrapping a firm hand around your thin neck. “I’ve already won.” Swallowing hard, you worried your lower lip between your teeth, his favorite tell, and stared him in the eye. The predatory gleam made you weak in the knees– he knew it. He could feel you falter under his capable palm as he gave your neck a gentle squeeze. Keishin loved seeing you like this– wrestling between reason and your desires, pinned beneath him with that fire burning behind your eyes as if to remind him that you only permitted his control because you knew how completely yours he really was. The nip of his teeth on your earlobe sent you reeling, swooning into his stubbled cheek. “Please,” you whispered. “Not here.” “No? You sure?” As if to capitalize on your wavering resolve, he raised a knee to rest just between your thighs, a silent dare to test him and see just how far he’d make you go. Instinctively, you ground your pelvis against his knee and shuddered at the delicious pressure on your core. He grinned against your cheek. “Because I think this is exactly where you want it.” Hips rocking, your anger slowly melted away as he continued to tease you, still pinning you to the door by the throat. “I think you like the idea of almost getting caught, little bird.” Your whimpers doused kerosine on the slow burning embers he stoked with his teasing. “Keishin,” you gasped, his free hand trailing down your sticky body to pull your hip hard into his waiting erection, grip hard enough you were sure you’d have bruises by the time he was done. “We don’t-” “Guess I’ll just have to cum inside you then.” Your thighs squeezed around his knee, cunt fluttering at the thought of your combined spend trickling down your thighs on the walk home. His grin was sinful, eyes sharp and hungry as you melted into his knee. He could feel your slick soaking through your shorts, the sensation earning a groan you just barely made out. “Mark you as my little crow inside and out,” he purred, long fingers feathering along the waistband of your shorts. “Yeah, I think you like that idea.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” You caught his gaze through your dark lashes, leaning into his hand and waiting hips as if to lay your own bait. Your own hands caught in his hair and pulled his headband down. How you loved running your fingers through those blond waves; you rolled your hips and gave his hair an experimental tug, earning a low groan in return. He surged forward and captured your lips, a fight for dominance to the end. Tongue tracing hungrily along the curl of your lips, he softened his hold on your neck and pulled you closer. Hand on your nape, he let out a hiss when you bit him, a flash of blood lingering on your lip in return with a satisfied grin. “Oh, cocky now?” Keishin gave your shorts a shove over your generous hips. Anxiety and excitement bubbled in your chest as you squirmed against him. He was still hard muscle and sinew despite years away from the court, more than enough to handle you at your worst. “Let’s see you be cocky now, little bird.” His fingers glided along your sopping cunt, earning a sharp moan at the sudden brush along your neglected clit. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Fuck,” he breathed, too enraptured by your responsive body. “Keishin, please,” you whimpered, clutching his shoulders as his deft fingers continued to tap and rub slow, agonizing circles around your glistening clit. “Please, please fill me…” “How quickly your resolve falls apart, my little crow,” he purred into your hair, fingers now sliding into your drooling pussy. You bit back another moan, head arching back into the door as Keishin scissored his fingers against your already fluttering walls. “You’re fucking drenched.” “Please, please…I need you. I need to feel you, Keishin.” Legs trembling, you rocked into his hand, keening at the pressure his hardened fingertips exerted on your g-spot. Even accidentally, he had a way of luring out the most beautifully debauched moans from you. He continued to work you open, trying to make up for a week without laying claim to you in the span of minutes. Keishin growled low, feeling himself get lost in your whining, in the warm squeeze of your welcoming cunt around his fingers, in how completely devoted he was to hearing you moan his name like that one more time. You heard the zip after you felt the lonesome ache of loss, only to be filled again to the hilt with a gasping cry. Keishin grit his teeth and leaned into your writhing frame, bracing himself against the door as you squeezed his cock from head to hilt like a velvet vice. “W-wrap your leg around my hip,” he ordered shakily, peering at you through a curtain of soft gold. You did as instructed and felt him wrap his arm around your back, pulling you closer as he rocked into your heat with a moan of his own. “So fucking tight, Y/n…” Stars faded throughout your vision and left you feeling dazed. “So good,” he moaned, resting his forehead against yours to glance down where your bodies connected. You balanced on your toes, meeting his thrusts with your own. “Keishin,” you cried in return, arching your back off the locker room door as your first climax claimed you. Keishin grit his teeth and fucked you through the first of many, angling his hips to drive his cock deeper still, earning a harsh shriek. “Keishin, don’t stop!” “Wasn’t planning on it,” he groaned, bottoming out with a stutter. “It’s like you were made for me.” You let out another cry, clinging to the coach as tears pricked your eyes. He rutted against your cervix with a pained grin, knowing the longer he pressured against that button the sooner you’d be begging to be filled and defiled. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he sighed, slowing as your walls clenched around his cock with the advent of another orgasm. You trembled helplessly against him, body practically weightless in his arms as he continued to prolong your pleasure if only to draw out his own. When you came down, you brushed your nose along his and gazed at him through half-lidded eyes. Toes curling in your trainers at the devastating sight in front of you, you gave another keening cry and buried your face into his shoulder. “Y’know, for someone so worried about being caught you sure are loud.” He grinned into your hair and hammered his hips into yours, earning another loud wail in protest and in pleasure. Your nails caught the tanned skin of his back, a vicious trail of red left in their wake as he brought you to another peak. “That’s three…” You bucked against him, fitfully chasing again after that same high only his cock could bring you. His name a prayer on your lips, he allowed you to take because you gave him so much in return. Every moan, every gush of your juices around his cock he took and devoured, knowing you wouldn’t be afraid to earn his end in return. “I can feel you twitching, Keishin. You’re close, Daddy Crow.” His hips stuttered as you whispered the pet name into his ear, holding you tightly as he bottomed out in your spasming cunt. “Hard not to when you’re fucking milking me.” He’d never admit it, but he would stay buried inside you forever if you’d let him. Only the unsynchronized whisper of your breathing and the slick slap of skin on skin surrounded the two of you in the empty gym. Entangled with the other coach in the darkened hallway, you found his lips to muffle another moan when your attention was pulled away from your bliss by the slamming of the gym doors. 

"Coach Himewari! We’re getting ready to go!” It was Michimiya your team captain. Her footfalls echoed softly, rubber tapping against the laminated wood. She paused for a moment when you didn’t answer. Keishin grinning sadistically against your lips, he held your hips flush against his, grinding his cock into that spot that frayed the edges of your vision and made your quiver around his girth. “Hm, I guess she already left…” the team captain mused before shuffling closer to the locker room door, only to quickly turn away at the opening of the door. 

“Come on, Yui! Let’s just go! Toshi can catch us up later.” Grateful for Aihara pulling her friend’s focus, you bit down on your lip to keep quiet. Keishin redoubled his efforts, dragging his teeth along the hollow of your neck. Even muffled your moans were music to his degenerate ears. You stiffened against him with the sinking of his teeth into your neck, a stifled cry and final squeeze signaling your end. Keishin wasn’t too far behind, growling into your salt-slicked skin. The heavy doors clattered shut as he moaned out his release, the heat building in your core as he spasmed into your waiting womb. 

“Fuck me, Keishin…” you breathed, half chuckling half panting. He held against you, comfortable in your combined heat as he peppered soothing kisses along your neck and into your hairline. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you like almost getting caught.”

He hissed, slowly withdrawing from your core and watched as his cum slowly started trickling from your pulsating hole down your sturdy thighs. He tucked himself back into his jeans and watched you languish against the wall for a moment, playful grin lighting his face. Deftly he collected the escaping seed and shoved it back into your abused cunt, earning a pained whimper before he pulled your panties and shorts back up to keep the rest from spilling. “Don’t waste it, little crow.” He wiggled his fingers along your lips and you greedily sucked them clean with wide, innocent eyes. Your combined taste coated your tongue, sweet and bitter all at once. “That’s my good girl,” he crooned, planting a gentle kiss to the crown of your head. 

Your anger evaporated, you slumped against him, head resting comfortably into his chest. “I’m ready for a nap, daddy crow…” you whined. Blond hair slicked with swear, he carded those long fingers through and hoisted you up onto his shoulder, carrying you out of the gym with your mess ruining your panties and shorts. 

“Oh no you don’t. As soon as we get home you’re making up for every voicemail and tantrum, Y/n.” It was going to be a long night. 

[catzula]

(Don't) Let me be the judge of that

a/n: enemies to lovers w Osamu. Nothing more to say.

genre: mostly fluff, enemies to lovers au, fem!reader

warnings: Osamu being an ass in the beginning, swearing, mentions of social anxiety, 5.6k

《Synopsis: Osamu Miya is too judgemental for his own good, never accepting he's simply wrong. You're here to change that.》

Osamu Miya had a habit of judging people. It would take him one look and a few seconds to decide whether he liked someone or not, the answer often being the latter. But the worst part was just how stubborn and maybe a bit self-centered Osamu was. He trusted himself a little too much, and it was impossible to change his opinion of someone after he had made up his mind, and if he didn't like someone, that was it, he would never grow to like them.

Or so everyone -including Osamu himself- thought until you entered his life.

~

You weren't surprised to feel the brown pair of eyes looking your way when your professor announced the project was in pairs. "Decide on your partners until the end of the hour and give me a list of the groups." He told the class and leaned back in his chair.

"Y/N!" You heard him before you saw him, a mop of bleached blond hair coming into your view right after. "Hi, Atsumu." You offered him a smile as you pocketed your phone, tilting your head when he frowned in response. "I already told you, Y/N, it's 'Tsumu to you!"

"Why?" You sighed annoyedly. Having had the conversation once before, you knew damn well he wouldn't stop until you did what he wanted, but you still chose to resist.

"Because," the boy whined, "it's a sign of our friendship. Only my friends and 'Samu call me that, and I want you to call me by my nickname, too." You chose not to talk about how he excluded his twin from his friends, knowing that would only lead to another argument. 

"Who even came up with this stupid name? It doesn't make any sense, it's only one syllable shorter, and it's even harder to say!" Atsumu's warm-brown eyes narrowed. "It's not stupid!" He protested, pouting until you gave up.

"Okay, okay, whatever. 'Tsumu-kun. There, happy?"

"Tsumu." The blond corrected with a grin.

"Kun." You added (to rile him up)

"Only Tsumu, goddammit! We're close enough."

"Are we, though? We only know each other for... what? A week?"

"A month!" Atsumu gasped as he corrected you. "And it doesn't matter how long we know each other, okay? It's a matter of how well we connect." His frown got deeper when you made a face, muttering something about him being cheesy, so he decided to switch strategies.

"But you always call me by my name when we're alone, Y/N-chan." Words spoken as flirtatiously as possible, Atsumu never missed the chance to tease you.

"A-atsumu, what the fuck, don't make it sound weird!" You exclaimed, already aware of the murmurs starting to spread around the room and the eyes turning on you both.

"There we go," Atsumu grinned when he heard his name falling from your lips, "wasn't that hard, was it?"

"You just had to be a little shit." You sighed, and his grin only spread wider. "I am a little shit, aren't I? Thank god I'm handsome. Anyway, I'm writing our names down." 

"It feels like we're getting married, seeing our names standing next to each other like this." He sighed, wiping the nonexistent tears from the corner of his eyes as he handed the paper to the person sitting behind you. You heard someone gasp at his words, and you never wanted to hit someone with a chair this much in your life.

"Shut the hell up!" You whisper-yelled, only feeling your anger growing when he sent you an innocent look. "What? I'm just saying-"

"I swear to god," You flared, "I'll tell everyone that one time you ran out of the library screaming when you saw a cockroach if you don't shut up." His grin disappeared as soon as you spoke the words, eyes widening and mouth shutting.

"You promised to never talk about it!" You had to admit that it did feel powerful to see him so panicked, face flushed, the sleazy look that was almost always in his eyes nonexistent and replaced with something similar to fear.

"It's up to you wether I talk about it or not." You shrugged.

~~~

"Woah, you look tired." You heard a familiar voice say as he plopped right next to you on the bench, holding a homemade bento in his hands, wrapped too neatly to be made by him.

"And whose fault is that?" You muttered, trying to conceal your murderous intent towards him. Even just thinking about your day gave you headaches. You groaned when he shrugged, focusing on unwrapping the bento box. "Yours, idiot!" 

"What did I d-" You winced when he spoke after taking a big spoon of rice and showing you everything that was in his mouth. 

"Your fans wont let me be! Ever since we started hanging out, it's almost like I'm being harassed."

"That's not necesarrily my fault." Atsumu shrugged, proceeding with another bite of his food. 

"It is, actually. I know you like to tease me, but if you keep saying shit like 'oh look our names together, feels like we're getting married' or that fucking 'you call me by my name when we're alone' you make it worse! You know how many people came up to me and asked if we were sleeping? One even asked me if we were engaged! We've known each other for two weeks, for god's sake!"

"A month." Atsumu corrected, shutting up when you sent him a look. "That's not even the worst part. Whenever I don't give an answer, or the answer they want to hear from me, people start to-" 

They started to get mean. Some even insulted you without batting an eye, speaking of how you weren't even pretty, that you had to be sleeping with Atsumu to be near him, and many fucking more.

"What?" He asked. "People started to what?" You knew he could sense how tense you were starting to get, but you always started to fight with him whenever he asked if people were bothering you, never answering his question, despite the answer being obvious. 

"Nothing, its just frustrating." You shrugged, taking a bite out of your meal to stop yourself from talking -or crying-. 

"Look, I can guess what's going on." Atsumu sighed, "and the only reason I can think of of you not telling me what's happening is that you don't want me to interfere, but you should tell them to piss off, already." He advised you the same stupid sentence he had been advising the past few days, ever since he noticed how his fans acted towards you. 

"Yeah, thanks for the advice, jackass. It would be easier if you stopped being so extra." You muttered into your cup full of coffee, feeling a tinge of guilt, putting the whole blame on him and not admitting you probably should tell people to mind their business already.

But you just weren't the type of person that was comfortable with talking to people you didn't know or know well enough, and you certainly weren't going to tell people to 'piss off' so comfortably.

You gulped when he sighed. "Okay, sorry, you're right, and I went overboard. But I gotta go to training now. It'll end around 5 p.m, so come to my place at 6?" He raised to his feet as he took one last sip of his drink when he finished his food.

"And if anyone asks you if we're married again, you have my permission to say yes." He grinned, patting your hair twice before you rolled your eyes, but couldn't stop a giggle from escaping your lips. "Oh, thank you, gracious lord." You cried out dramatically, scoffing when he pinched your cheek. "Exactly."

~~~

"I'm going into shower." Atsumu announced as Osamu shuffled through the fridge. 

"And?" The grey-haired twin asked from the fridge without pulling back, locating the eggs, and taking some out. "Do you want my help or something?

He expected an equally sarcastic comment from his brother, lifting his head as he closed the door of the fridge. "Cook for 3 today, a friend's coming over." He heard him say instead.

"A friend?" Osamu quirked his brow, ready to laugh given the punchline, but it never came.

"Yep." His twin answered instead, popping the p like some idiot middle schooler. "She's nice, you'll like her." He grinned, and Samu was already sure that wouldn't be the case. "Is this the girl ya can't stop talking about?"

Osamu couldn't say he wasn't interested since it was rare to see his brother drawn to anything but himself and volleyball, especially not to a girl. And judging by how Atsumu spoke about you, it was evident he had a particular liking to you.

The smug grin on Atsumu's face gave Osamu his answer, to which he grimaced. "don't wanna hear a fucking sound."

"She's coming over to study, you pervert! We have a project together."

"Yeah, whatever, I said what I said." Osamu shrugged, turning his back to Atsumu and started to chop the vegetables, unable to shake off the unlucky feeling pooling in his stomach.

~~~

"Oi, shit-head, does yer friend have any allergies or somethin'?" Osamu knocked on the bathroom door that had steam coming from the gap beneath it. He waited as Atsumu closed the water. "Eh, I'm not sure." 

"Yer not sure? How long do you even know her?"

"A month." Atsumu answered, turning the water back on. A month? It wasn't like Atsumu didn't get close to a girl he knew for such a short time, but Osamu had never, ever seen Atsumu bring a girl home.

"Hurry up, already, what the hell are you even doing in there?!" Osamu shouted, knocking on the bathroom door and holding back an urge to kick down the door when he heard the happy humms of his brothers.

"Oi, idiot, I'm telling you- goddammit." He clenched his teeth when he heard the doorbell. 

"Hurry up or you're not eating." Osamu knocked one last time before he rushed to the door to let you in. 

He opened the door without thinking of opening the lights as well, and since it was well after the sun had set, he couldn't see what you looked like, but he knew he wasn't expecting- well, you.

You were bent forward, trying to undo the messy knot your shoelaces had formed when the door opened. Sending a glance at the silhouette standing at the door, you turned your attention back to untying the mess your shoes were. 

"Hey, Atsumu." You muttered without taking another look, assuming it was Atsumu who had greeted you. You didn't see how Osamu's face soured, dark-grey eyes narrowing at your form with some hostility he couldn't help.

In your defense, the light wasn't on, and you hadn't taken a good look at the boy standing before you, so it wasn't exactly your fault for not realizing it was Osamu, right?

No.

Strike one.

Osamu hated when people mixed him with Atsumu. Did they not see the bright platinum gray hair, clearly different from his twins piss colored one? Osamu hadn't dyed his hair for the sake of looking nice, and he certainly hadn't sat in the hairdresser for hours long just to get mixed up with his twin again.

You had noticed your mistake as soon as you stood up and looked at the tall figure staring at you, leaning on the door frame and his arms tied on his chest almost defensively. "O-oh," Osamu heard you mutter softly, not sure as to why your voice sent goosebumps down his arms. "You're not Atsumu."

The somewhat disappointed tone of your voice made him furrow his brows. The smile you had on your lips dropped as soon as you locked eyes with the grey ones, familiar yet strange, and Osamu could feel himself getting more irked by the second.

The truth was, you weren't exactly disappointed, mostly embarrassed and a little surprised, although the unsatisfied look his eyes held kept making you even more nervous. He waited as your eyes wandered over his face, over the scowl resting on his lips, looking so mean and hostile, you found yourself taking a defensive step away from him.

"I- uh," Osamu's scowl didn't move an inch when you forced a smile at him, and you checked the time on your phone to break the eye contact. "Atsumu told me to come by at 6, and... is he- is he home?"

"Yeah," The boy talked for the first time, and you noticed how his voice was deeper than his twin's. It was nicer, too, you thought. "He's in the shower, though he should be-"

"Y/N, you're here!" You heard the twin you were familiar with speak your name, standing in the entrance, hair still wet and dripping with excess water. 

"Don't get cocky, I'm here for the project." You rolled your eyes with fake annoyance, unsuccessful at hiding your smile. Osamu felt something in him shift as he watched the change in your demeanor, feeling- what, jealous? 

"You met 'Samu?" Atsumu approached you, not missing the tension hanging in the air. "Y/N, this is the inferior twin, 'Samu, as you can also tell. And 'Samu, this' Y/N." He introduced you, making you laugh awkwardly, but Osamu kept his glower. 

"Don't mind him, he can be an asshole sometimes." Atsumu whispered at you, which anyone even passing by outside the house could hear. "Look at who's talking." You told him with a snarky quirk of a brow, making Atsumu frown. "Mean."

The blond pulled you towards the living room, making you settle on the couch and plopping next to you. Osamu caught the glance you sent his way when he didn't sit, leaning against the wall that was across you, instead, and you found he still had that frown that seemed to be imprinted on his face.

Osamu's frown was deepening on his lips at how comfortable you looked next to Atsumu, the friendly banter you had the exact opposite of how uncomfortable you looked next to Osamu. Maybe it was the natural competitiveness that came with having a twin, but Osamu hated this feeling. Why couldn't you smile at him like that, too? Yeah, maybe he was acting like a dick, but wasn't Atsumu also?

"Go dry your hair, idiot, you'll get sick!" Osamu heard you tell his twin, watching you hit him with the nearest pillow. "Hm?" Atsumu turned to you with a grin, leaning towards you for easy access to his hair. "I thought ya could do it for me?"

Osamu watched you with interest as you glared at his twin with annoyance. "I hope you get sick." You narrowed your eyes at him. "If you keep this attitude around other people, I'll kick you."

"Alright, alright, I won't flirt with ya when other people are around." Atsumu grinned, and Osamu felt his appetite vanishing. "I'll just leave." He muttered to himself, closing the door behind him just after hearing your answer to his twin.

"Don't flirt with me, ever?" 

You had spoken it with such genuine annoyance that if you had listened closely, you could hear Osamu laughing from the other side of the door.

~

So, the meeting with his twin was anything but successful.

Osamu was very blunt with how much he hadn't liked you, his glare reminding you of the ones Atsumu had whenever his fans approached him, cold and cruel.

Grey was clearly the superior choice, though, that you found yourself thinking as you gazed at the blond. "What? Lost in my handsomeness?" Atsumu teased you when he noticed you weren't paying attention to the project. You had to hold yourself back physically before you said something along the lines of how his twin was hotter, but you knew he wouldn't talk to you ever again, so you shut your mouth and took the teasing. 

Luckily, Osamu was barging through the door before Atsumu could continue, bored-looking eyes finding you two where he had left you. "Dinner's ready." He told you and left the room.

"Food," Atsumu salivated, jumping on his feet the moment he heard his brother, ready to sprint to the kitchen. You shuffled awkwardly in your place when you felt his warm-brown gaze on you, expecting you to stand up, as well, and eat.

"I- uh," you muttered. "I'm not really hungry, and I ate before I came here." Lies. "Can't we just finish this project instead?"

Strike two.

Just as he started to think you weren't horrible, Osamu gasped from the other side of the wall when he heard you (the walls were thin), his teeth clenching in annoyance. Really? Did you prefer doing a fucking project over his food? The food he had cooked?

Osamu was never a forgiving person, but this- this was something he could never forgive, he decided on the spot.

"Oh, come on, stop bein' a baby." Atsumu told you, pulling you by your hand on your legs, he knew you well to understand you were hesitating to go there because of his brother. Or more as he was making you nervous and you would rather not eat than go in his presence. "Osamu's the best cook around, you'll see." He joked so you could relax a little, making you giggle nervously.

Strikeout.

Osamu flinched at the words, eyes narrowing on you as you entered the kitchen. Did you doubt his abilities? 

You thanked the boy as he placed your plate in front of you, steaming hot food, smelling so good that you wanted to bury your face in it, but the grey gaze hovering over you was making you so nervous that it made it impossible for you to take even a small bite.

"Do ya like it?" Atsumu asked you, noticing how you were nudging the food with your fork without eating. You flinched in your place, your friends' voice pulling you out of your thoughts and back to reality, to which you mustered a smile and nodded. "Yeah! Yeah, it's- it's delicious. Thank you." You turned back to Osamu, who scoffed at your words, causing you to frown. 

You could tell he didn't like you one bit, even though you weren't sure as to why, but you discarded the thought. He was free to like or dislike you, which, in this case, was the latter, though it stung a little since you thought he seemed nice when- well, when he didn't frown at you.

He seemed like the type you would either get along or hate mutually.

He had obviously chosen the latter, and both Atsumu and you could feel the almost hateful air coming from Osamu as he glanced at you with a disinterested, blank face. "Did ya have a bad day or something, 'Samu?" Atsumu broke the silence, and you felt like you could finally take a breath. "You look like someone kicked ya in the nuts."

"Fuck off, 'Tsumu." 

"Nah, you've been acting like a dick all day. What's with ya today?"

"I said fuck off!" Osamu warned his twin another time, this time successfully silencing the blonde. 

"Thank you," You broke the awful silence that followed Osamu's voice. "The food was delicious." You told him after you finished your food. You could still feel his gaze over you as you placed your plate in the sink and retreated to the living room. 

"Your brother didn't like me very much, did he?" Osamu heard you mutter to his brother after he had left, too, feeling a fracture of guilt in his chest as he caught the disappointment in your voice.

"It's just... 'Samu. Don't worry about it." Atsumu told you, closing the door behind you.

~

Osamu was hesitant to knock on the living room door.

It had been about two hours since you had gone in, and knowing his brother- he couldn't be sure as of what's to happening.

"Oi, 'Tsumu!" He barged in the room, discarding the thoughts before he gave up. 

"Shut up." Atsumu whispered, eyes lifting from his phone screen for a second and glancing at you. You, who was lying on the sofa and- sleeping?

"She fell asleep." Atsumu grinned at his brother's questioning gaze. "I'll carry her back to the car. Can you drive her home?"

Osamu didn't hold back his snicker when Atsumu's voice dropped volume as he asked the favor from his brother, still not able to admit to himself the defeat.

"Your hair is still wet, idiot," Osamu mumbled, his eyes wandering over your figure. "And I will not take care of you if you go out and get sick."

"What?" Atsumu grinned mockingly. "Are you gonna carry her then? Be a hero for the girl you've been acting like an ass all day? What the fuck was up with you today?"

"I don't like her." Osamu shrugged.

"She's not the kind of girl you think of her as." Atsumu quickly responded, already aware of what his twin had decided about you. Atsumu knew Osamu too well, his stubbornness even more, so he wasn't exactly surprised when he shrugged. 

"Let me be the judge of that, and I don't have to like her."

"Whatever, you do you. But you know, you don't have to dislike her just because she's my friend, too."

Osamu stood silent, eyes falling back on you. He knew Atsumu was partly right, but he had his reasons not to like you, right? Osamu pocketed his car keys, nodding at his twin and lifting you off the couch.

Atsumu grinned at the audible gulp his twin took when you shifted uncomfortably in Osamu's arms, snuggling your body closer to him, your hand fisting his shirt unconsciously. 

You woke up with Osamu hovering over you, and it took you a second or two to notice you were in a car and he was tying your seatbelt. He was so close, yet so careful not to touch you, his smell -a different perfume than his brother's- filling your newly awakened senses with him, him, him. Your eyes met his when he tied it and pulled back, a brow quirking up as his frown settled on his lips. 

"Did I wake you up?" He muttered as he retreated to his seat, running his fingers through his hair as he fixed his mirror, pushing back the few stray strands back from his face. Osamu turned back to you when you stood quiet, a sarcastic smile quirking his lips upwards, but it fell as soon as you talked.

"Wh- uh, where's Atsumu?"

Osamu clenched his teeth, not knowing why it angered it so much that his twin was the first thing that came to your mind as soon as you woke up.

"Home." Osamu gritted through his teeth. "I'm dropping you home, 'Tsumu gave me the address."

He glanced at you when you stood silent. "He doesn't have a license." Osamu couldn't help but add, a feeling stirring in him when you laughed at that. "So he failed the exam and you passed? That must've been a blow on his ego."

"Oh, you have no idea." Osamu found himself laughing with you.

Silence. He could feel your growing anxiety, and you could tell he was nervous as well, the taps of his fingers on the stirring wheel echoing in the car. His hair reflecting the colors coming from the road, yellow, red, and green, the features of his face illuminated, you thought he looked too handsome to be true.

"Why are you friends with him?" Osamu blurted out after a few seconds of silence, but the question didn't seem to surprise you. "Why is anyone friends with anyone?" You teased.

"Atsumu isn't exactly the type people wanna be friends with." 

"Hm," he heard you humm thoughtfully, not answering the question. "If we're asking questions, well, here's one. Why don't you like me?"

He could feel your light gaze on him as he kept his eyes on the road. It wasn't if he liked you or not, but you asked him why. He found himself wondering where that annoying meak girl he had met inside went. "And you don't like me."

"No," you answered honestly, which he found amusing. "You're mean."

"And 'Tsumu isn't?"

He turned to you when you shrugged. "Well, Atsumu is, too. But there is a difference, you know."

"And what is that?"

"He's a naturally mean person." You explained as if it made perfect sense. "He's just mean, he doesn't try to be meaner or nicer. You, on the other hand," you looked at him. "I don't think you're naturally mean, not as much as him, at least. I think you're purposefully being mean, and thats why I don't like you."

You met his eyes when Osamu turned his eyes from the road to you when the car stopped at the red light, grey eyes glistening with reds and yellows from the road. Your eyes followed the small smile that appeared on his lips, and you couldn't help yourself from thinking how soft they looked. How much more handsome he looked with a smile, even with one as cruel as he had now.

"I just don't like you." He told you with as much spite as possible, not sure why he was deliberately trying to hurt you. His brows furrowed when you laughed at his answer, instead.

"You certainly aren't the first." 

"What does that mean?" He asked without missing a beat, the tension now almost solidifying in the air. His heart was hammering in his chest, eyes watching your smiling lips as he waited for your next words, your chest heaving in sync with his, and you were so close, so close that if he leaned even just a little-

"You only met me today, Osamu-kun." He felt goosebumps climbing his back as he heard his name from your lips for the first time. "You know me for what, a few hours at most, and here you are telling me you just don't like me." The cynical tone of your voice made him send you a glare, his hands working over the gear when the red illuminating the car turned green.

"People like you do this a lot, you know. Judge people by one or two mistakes they do, not even anything major, but things you don't like, and deem them unworthy of your time. And how much I hate it when they boast about it, too. What, do you think you're so perfect? Don't you ever make any mistake?"

"People like me?" Osamu repeated, uncharasterically silent after all those words you had spat. "Yeah, shallow people." You answered, but you weren't looking at him anymore as you tapped the window instead. "We're here." 

You were silent as he stopped the car, pulling to the side, and watched you open the door. "You know," he finally spoke, rolling down his window before you were too far. "You say I judge people so quickly, but you did a full-blown analysis just now, and you say I'm the one to judge quick?"

"Tell me, Osamu." You bent forward a little, leveling your face with his. "If you can promise me that you didn't think, ah, I know this type of girl, even once tonight, I'll take it all back and apologize to you."

You smiled when he stood quiet. 

"Goodnight, Osamu. Thank you for the ride." You told him before walking back to your house.

~

"Ya know, with the amount of time you spend here, you may as well move in." Osamu told you gruffly, eyeing you from his side of the couch. Your eyes followed him as he took a bite out of his food, adam's apple bobbing up and down.  

"I'll move in as soon as you leave." You answered with a fake smile, turning your eyes away from his as soon as you realized you were staring, hoping he hadn't noticed, but he had. 

"Yer sure ya want me to leave?" He quirked a brow at you, making you grimace. "Never been more sure." 

It had been about a month since you met Osamu, and it was like this ever since. Osamu never missed the chance to take a jab at you, or he couldn't sleep. You never backed down from it either, the fights going back and forth until either Atsumu got bored and pulled you away or one of their friends called you out.

You didn't enjoy it like they thought you did. In fact, it was getting tiring and annoying, but you couldn't stop yourself from taking a jab at Osamu whenever he shot you a remark.

He looked at you when you sighed, brows quirking up in a silent question. "When's Atsumu gonna be here?"

Atsumu had told you to come to his place that day, telling you he would be there in a few minutes after you and he had something to do, but as always, he was late at least an hour, and you were now stuck with his brother. 

"I'll just go home and meet you up later." You had told the blonde, but he had insisted you stay. 

"Have you ever seen 'Tsumu come somewhere not at least two hours late? I bet he won't be here for at least an hour more." Osamu chuckled. "I'm hungry." He added right after, eyes finding yours.

"And? You need me to cook?" You snickered, not expecting him to stay silent, looking at you for a few more seconds and rolling his eyes as he turned around and went to the kitchen. 

Your brows furrowed in confusion at the antic. Surely Osamu wasn't- he wasn't asking you if you wanted something, was he?

"At least open a movie or something as we wait." Osamu muttered from the kitchen. 

"Do you have something on mind?" You asked, feeling weird at how soft he suddenly was acting. "No, pick one."

"Okay," you muttered to yourself, emphasizing the 'o'. You thought of opening a volleyball match, Atsumu always liked it when you did, and maybe he would- no, why were you even thinking of what he would like? He told you to open whatever, hadn't he?

Still, despite reasoning with yourself, you were jittery as you opened a random comedy show from Netflix. Trying to focus your thoughts on the show playing, you did your best not to think about the silver-haired boy inside, failing miserably by how your mind wandered to him and the odd way he was acting today.

"Say, ya never gave me an answer as to why yer friends with 'Tsumu." He entered the room, carrying a tray with two plates and forks inside. The crooked smile on his lips was making your heart beat twice as fast, even though you didn't want to admit it, and the way he focused on holding the tray on balance, the slight crease between his furrowed brows. Osamu Miya was too handsome for his own good.

"Thanks," you muttered half-heartedly as you took the plate from him, not even aware it was an olive branch he was sticking out. Osamu's face fell when you didn't spare him or his food another look. "You never gave me an answer of why you don't like me, so I guess we're even." You laughed, smile wavering when he didn't laugh along.

He sighed, eyes glancing at you and then back at his hands. It made you antsy, making you feel like something was wrong.

"You chose this to watch?" He turned back to the not answering you. He shifted in his place when you hummed, "I can change it i fyou want." The way he hadn't made fun of your choice of the movie yet, was too uncharacteristic of him.

"No, its okay." He answered instead, ending the conversation -if you could even call this one. You ate in silence, tv playing in the background, though neither of you cared of it, your gaze meeting now and then until you couldn't take it.

"What is wrong with you?" You couldn't help but blurt out, turning the TV off and facing him. You watched him as he quirked his brow up, looking at you questioningly even though he knew what you meant.

"What is wrong with me?" He repeated.

"Why are you being nice?"

He turned back to face the tv after a beat of silence, looking somewhat... shy? What the-

"Wh-what was that?" You asked when he mumbled something, the answer so silent that it was inaudible. "I said," Osamu repeated, eyes still focused on his plate. "You told me you didn't like me because I- uh, I was rude."

His voice was still uncharacteristically quiet, but this time you heard him loud and clear. That didn't mean you understood it, though.

"What do you mean?" He heard you ask, your voice laced with something resembling suspicion, you scoffed when he stood quiet, standing up to your legs and picking your plate off from the table. "If you're trying to tell me you want me to like you, I'm not buying it."

"You're not buying it?" He repeated, mirroring your movements and standing up, making you realize how much taller he was than you. The way he was looking at you- what was it, hurt? No, it couldn't be. Anger would be more like it. 

"Is there no way of winning with you?" He asked, following you to the kitchen and placing his plate a little too roughly on the counter. "You say you don't like me because I'm rude. I try to be nice and you fucking ask me what's wrong with me? What do you want me to do, disappear?"

Now, there was no denying that Osamu was, indeed, hurt, as his face soured when you stood quiet, staring at him blankly at his question. "So you hate me this much." He muttered to himself, running his fingers through his hair. 

"I don't know why you expected me to like someone who has been nothing but rude to me since the moment we met." You shrugged, but a part of you wanted to tell him it was a lie, and despite everything that you- well, you liked him. 

The glare he sent your way was enough to make you choke on the breath you took, taking a step forward to you, close enough for you to feel dizzy with his scent.

"Well, that concludes it, I guess. This was stupid, anyway." Osamu muttered, but he was so close- so close that you could almost feel the heat radiating from him, your eyes fixated on his lips, and if you just leaned forward- a few millimeters was all there was.

"What was- what was stupid?" You whispered, noticing his gaze was also wandering on your lips. Your heart suddenly started thundering in your chest, and you couldn't even ask yourself what's happening? What are you doing?

"This," Osamu breathed against your lips, his gaze so intense over you that it sent chills down your spine. He finally leaned forward, doing what you wanted but couldn't do, the word "apologizing," being the last thing you hear before you felt his lips on yours.

It was a soft kiss, nothing similar to how you thought Osamu would kiss -not that you had thought on it, or so you told yourself-, this kiss was deeper, irrational, amazing. 

"Do you always apologize to people by kissing them?" You asked when he pulled back, smirking at the way your chest heave, feeling a tinge of pride at how breathless he had left you.

"Hm?" He hummed, not wiping that damn smirk off of his face, it even grew wider when he noticed you pressing your fingers on your lips, still in shock, "I don't apologize to people." 

It was true. 

No one had ever seen Osamu Miya change his opinion about something, about someone. He would never admit he was wrong yet apologize.

But here he was, standing before you -just as breathless as you were- apologizing. 

"Maybe you should apologize more." You told him with a sly smile, to which he happily complied.

~

"I wanted to make peace." He told you, sitting on the couch right beside you, refusing to look at you, though. "I've been trying to act nice for a while now, but you seem to- you don't like that."

"A while?" You repeat. "You were never nice to me!"

"I was trying." His brows furrowed at your protest. "But you always had something snarky to say, and I couldn't just stay silent, could I now?"

"But- what? You were always the one who started them!" 

"Was I?" He asked, giving you the time to think, watching your face in disbelief fall into a look of 'fuck, he's right.'

It was you who started the fights, despite thinking it was him all this time. Upon recognizing that, you started to see the times he actually was nice to you, which you had always discarded or turned a blind eye.

Biting your lip guiltily, your turned to him. "I might... owe you an apology." You muttered, very aware of how his eyes glinted, gaze falling back on your lips. "Well," he told you, smiling. "I can't disagree."

[ryvgvji]

hi! i was windering can you write a reaction with sero, kaminari, karishima, and tokoyami where their s/o bans sex for 3 weeks? i dont know if you write nsfw at becuase i couldnt fund rules, but you dont have to if you feel uncomfortable☺️

yes sorry about that, i don’t have rules yet, i have to make them 😅 my fault. but yes i do write nsfw stuff for both kpop and anime. but anyways here’s your reaction☺️ hope you like it!! sorry if it’s not the best

(apologies for any grammar errors.)

✰ characters : Ejirou Kirishima, Denki Kaminari, Fumikage Tokoyami, Hanta Sero.

✰ banning Sero, Kirishima, Kaminari and Tokoyami for 3 whole weeks, how will these boys handle that?

Hanta Sero

Sero getting banned from sex , wonder how that happened

most likely happened because Sero would be making fun of you

he and Kaminari would be talking about relationships when suddenly the topic sex came up

Kaminari would talk about how his girlfriend would moan and cry in the bedroom begging him to not stop and go harder

“She be like , ahhh Denki , fuck me hard baby!!” laughing as he mocked her moans

Sero would die laughing , rolling on the floor

“y/n is the same way!” he says as he dries his eyes

“oh Sero , daddy! right there!” he mocked you not at all realizing that he just exposed you

next day at school Kaminari mentions the conversation that him and Sero had

“y/n i didn’t know that you called Sero daddy.”

you almost choke on your food when you hear what Kaminari said

“w-who said that?!”

Kaminari points Sero who’s eyes were basically popping out of their socket

you glared at him wanting to knock him into next week

when i say Sero almost shitted his pants

“baby i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to make fun of you!!” he whines as he trails behind you to you room. you turn around and stare at him. “Sero you mocked me and revealed that i call you daddy during sex, are you really sorry about that?” he doesn't answer instead, he looks at the floor in guilt.

“baby i’m really sorry, you have to believe me,” he said as he grabs a hold of your hand. you look up at him. you could see that he was genuinely sorry. “please! i’ll do anything just please, forgive me.” he practically begs. anything? you think to yourself. a smirk creeps upon your face as you slipped your hand out of his hold. “anything you say?” you cross your arms over your chest. he rapidly nods in response. the perfect punishment pops into your head.

“no sex for three weeks.” you say blandly. Sero’s heart stops. “n-no what?” he stutters. he’s wondering if his ears heard correct. there was no possible way that you could say that to him. that was something that you would never put him through right? wrong! “no. sex. for. three. weeks.” Sero falls to his knees. he looks up at you like a hurt puppy. “baby no, don’t do this to me. i’m sorry. what i did was wrong, completely wrong. just please, i’m begging you. don’t do this.” his eyes somewhat glossy feeling his emotions go crazy. he couldn’t even think about the amount of torture that he would be put through. there was no way that he was gonna last for that long. “you should thought about that before daddy.” you tease lowly as you caress his cheek. you then walk off and leave him there to mope.

the whole three weeks were straight hell for Sero. he was super horny. he would always apologize and tell you he’s sorry everyday, asking you to let up in his punishment. that didn’t work and he would just sulk for the entire rest of the day. all he wants to hold you in his arms again and make you scream his name. when the three weeks were finally up he didn’t waste anytime. right after school he took you straight to his dorm and fucked you so hard that you were limping the next day. “baby, you’ve had me waiting for way to long.”

Ejirou Kirishima

let’s all think about how this all started first...

this started because Kirishima would promise you that he’d take you out on a date

“babe let’s go out together tomorrow after school.”

SIKE! ain’t happening

he ended up going to hang with Bakugo instead, totally forgetting what he promised to you

he spend the while afternoon and evening out with Bakugo leaving you mad and hurt

the next day at school you completely ignore him, walking away and avoiding him anytime that he comes up to you

he even ends up getting a couple of stank eyes from Mina and Momo.

when he practically harrasses you on the way back to the dorms , you finally tell him what’s up

“you stood me up Kirishima.”

that’s when he finally realized

“oh my god, y/n, baby i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to make you upset baby. Bakugo asked me to go with him somewhere yesterday and i didnt remember.” he rambles. you really didn't have a care in the world for what he was saying, your just upset that he stood you up for that his friend, Bakugo any less.

“so Bakugo is more important than me?” you roll your eyes. “baby of course not! what kind of stupid question is that?!” you let out a ‘hm’ and searched through your tv for something to watch. Kirishima grabbed a hold of your hand and make eye contact with you. “baby, i’m really sorry. i understand if your mad at me and i will accept my punishment.” punishment? you weren’t thinking of any punishments, you just are upset with him. but since he mentioned, you guess it’s best that you come up with one.

suddenly an idea pops into your brain. “how about no sex for three weeks?” you say with a innocent smile. Kirishima’s body froze. “babe... what’d you just say?” he asked you. you chuckled slightly. “i said, no sex for three weeks.” you leaned forward and place a light kiss on his lips. he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer to him, moving his head to the crook of your neck. “baby, you don’t mean that right?” he whisper against your skin, teeth light grazing the area. you almost shudder at the feeling, but you have to keep it together. “yes i do. and it starts right now.” you said and pushed him away.

Kirishima had never been in so much pain. he felt like he was gonna die. honestly for the whole three weeks, his whole demeanor was changed. he wasn’t as cheerful. he’d try everyday to get you to give up; grabbing your thigh under the table, kissing lightly on your neck, grabbing your ass even. unfortunately for him, that didn’t work. when it finally came to the last day of the punishment, he could not hold in his anticipation. he’d just skip school with you fuck you all day, literally all day. “you are really in for it love.”

Denki Kaminari

how did you come to this situation? simple

he l i e d

he said that he was with Sero, Kirishima and Bakugo

what he didn’t talk about was being with her instead of Sero. her as in Jirou

you found out through Sero’s slip up at lunch the next day

“yesterday was crazy, we should definitely do it again!” Kirishima cheered as he ate his lunch

“i still can’t believe that you guys took Jirou instead of me.” he rolled his eyes

“you didn’t go Sero?” you questioned the boy, he shook his head and narrowed his eyes toward Kaminari

“because of that punk over there!” he pointed

you look over to your boyfriend with raised eyebrows

“you said that you went with Sero babe. you lied to me?” you said calmly as you tried your best to keep your composure

the table was dead silent. so was Kami. he didn’t say anything. or make a move

you just shook your head and got up.

“unbelievable.”

“can’t believe you lied.” you said as you sat on your bed and stare at Kaminari. pure guilt shows on his face. you scoff as he doesn’t say a word. you are so mad at him, you don’t even wanna see him right now. “get out Kami. don’t talk to me.” you point to the door of your room. he opens his mouth to say something but you cut him before he cannot. “oh, and on top of that, your punishment for lying to me is no sex for three weeks, now get out.” you pushed him out your room and slam your door.

he didn’t even get to say anything. he really didn’t mean to lie you, it’s never his intention to hurt you. but for some reason which is unknown to him, he just didn’t want you to know about Jirou. it makes him feel so bad. for the entire next week you avoid him and the rest of the boys. anytime he was near you, you walk away. his heart was broken.”baby, please talk to me. i’m sorry. baby.” he called from outside your door. you sigh, getting up from your bed going over to open the door. “yes?”

no words were exchanged. he pulled you into a hugged walking towards your bed. “Kami what are you-” up you were cut of by Kaminari kissing you. you kissed back, wrapping your arms his neck to pull him closer. you missed this. his hands roamed over your body down to your legs. he lightly squeezed them before wrapping them around his hips. “i missed you so much y/n. i’m really sorry about what happened.” he said pulling away from the kiss. he moved to your neck. you let out a soft sigh before closing your eyes. wait, i’m not supposed to be doing this you thought. “wait.” Kaminari looked up at you confused. “you’re still on your punishment.” Kaminari whined and put his head back in your neck before saying, “baby~ please i’m sorry!” you only chuckled and pulled him away from your body. “two more weeks baby.”

by the time the two were over he was ready. he was not going to waste no time. you could literally feel that the whole day he was watching you. eyes following your every move like predator watching it’s prey. touching you nonstop, hands wondering over your body anytime there was an opportunity. when the last bell ran he rushed. picking you up and going all the way to his room. “baby i’ve been waiting for this for so long.”

Fumikage Tokoyami

tokoyami, tokoyami, oh tokoyami...

he just could not keep his hands to himself for some reason

he was touching you EVERYWHERE

“Tokoyami...” you warned him

you were in school you didn’t wanna get caught and get in trouble

he just smirks and continues to touch you

what was even worst is that nobody suspects anything because he was so to himself, no one would have thunk that Toko would do such thing so he didn’t stop

oh lord was lunch something

his grip on your thigh did not letting up

moving his hand further and further up. you felt like you were gonna bust

“baby no. were at school.” you brushed his hand off

“well we’re in your room now.” he teases and graze his fingers up you thigh. you slap his hand away. “ouch...that hurt.” you rolled your eyes. “baby. you’ve touching me all day. i think that you need to calm down.” you said. “but you like it, don’t you love?” he said pulling you onto his lap.

you smile at him and run your hand down his chest. just then a thought popped in your mind. with a mischievous smile you lean down and kiss him. he wrap his arms around you and leans back on the bed. you pull away and look him in his eyes. “baby how about this.” you lean closely to his ear. “no sex for three weeks baby. since you were being disobent and touching me non stop you are banned from sex.” Tokoyami’s breath hitches in his throat. “really that’s how is gonna be love?” his voice deep and low. you sit up on top and cross your arms. “that’s what i said.” you smiled. you see Tokoyami roll is eyes. “okay then. that’s fine with me, really don’t care.”

this is gonna be easy. or so Tokoyami thought. two weeks in and he can’t sleep. it’s been too long for him. he can’t go any longer. he tries everything that he can to break you. he wants you to give in. “baby, i need you.” he would whisper in your ear. you would only laugh and push him away saying “boy bye.”

thankfully, when the three weeks were over before he knew it. he never been so happy than before, this was something that we wants so bad. even dark shadow hasn’t been this excited. as soon as the weekend hits, he calls you and tell you pack backs cause your staying over his. before you could even knock on his door, he pulls you in, picks you and gently sets you down on the bed. “love let’s waste no time.”

[noforkingclue]

Hi I really really love your writing. Especially the ones with billy butcher. I was hoping to maybe please request one with where the reader is a doctor for the boys she patches them up and stuff and Billy is 100% soft for her and they both are in love with each of each and everyone knows it but each other🥺

Thank you so much! I love The Boys and I really enjoy writing these stories and the requests! I’m so glad that you’re enjoying them :D

Title: Going Soft

The Boys tag list: @captainofmybigwetdream

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary

“Ok, I’m going to put your shoulder back in one the count of three.”

“W… wait.”

“One.”

“I don’t think-“

“Two.”

“Wh- AHH!”

You heaved and popped Hughie’s shoulder back into place. He grabbed it and collapsed back onto the sofa. You gave him an amused smile as he glared at you.

“I thought you were going on three.” He said

“Better to do it when you’re least expecting it.”

“You didn’t have any pain killers?”

“Here,” you threw him a bottle, “Take two and no alcohol.”

“Fine.”

You stood up and patted his good shoulder in comfort. You walked around the hide out and sighed. Luckily there weren’t too many injuries and so far Hughie’s dislocated shoulder had been the worst of them. However there was still one person you hadn’t checked over. You found him in the back and he looked over when he saw you approaching him.

“I’m fine.” He said

“I’ll believe that when I check you over.”

“I don’t need you to.”

“Right,” you said in disbelief, “That’s why you’re cradling your arm. Let me take a look.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I told you I’m fine.”

“Oh so you have a medical degree now?”

“Didn’t you get disbarred?”

“Only because Vought made it look like I was incompetent.”

“Right,” Butcher walked towards you and raised a hand, “Sorry.”

His fingers ghosted over your cheek and you closed your eyes and leant into his touch.

“It’s ok. Now can I look at your arm?”

“Only because you asked so nicely.”

Butcher walked over a leant against a nearby table. You stood in front of him and he shrugged off his jacket and rolled up his sleeve. His arm was badly bruised and you carefully touched it.

“Thankfully it isn’t broken,” you said after careful deliberation, “Just sprained and bruised.”

“Fucking brilliant.”

“But you should still take it easy,” you said, “You wouldn’t want to spend six weeks with your arm in a cast.”

“Nah.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“Be careful,” he said, “I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”

He put his hand over yours ad gently squeezed it. You blushed at the contact and quickly looked away. You did have a crush on Butcher but you knew it was pointless. He was still in love with Becca and you highly doubted that he would choose you over her. You just had to accept the fact and be happy that the two of you were friends. You coughed awkwardly and pulled your hand away, missing the pained look the Butcher gave.

“I should check on Frenchie,” you said, “He was complaining about the stitches earlier and I want to check that he hasn’t pulled them out.”

“Right.”

Butcher sighed and you walked away, his eyes never leaving your retreating form. He heard someone approach but didn’t bother to look at them.

“You should tell y/n.” said MM

“Tell her what?”

“That you love her.”

Butcher glanced over at MM and snorted. You were fussing over Frenchie who kept glancing in his direction and smirking. Fucking cunt.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Butcher said at last

“I’m not stupid,” said MM sitting next to him, “None of us are. It seems that the only person who doesn’t know is y/n.”

“Yeah well, why the fuck would she ever go for a fuck up like me? She’s too good for me. I’ll only end up fucking her life up even more than Vought ever did. She’s better off without me.”

MM shook his head and sighed. You feelings for Butcher was just as obvious as Butcher’s feelings for you. He noticed your blushing face and Frenchie’s smirk and suspected that Frenchie was asking you about your feelings for Butcher. Of course you were dense as well which made the whole situation all the more unbearable.

“Maybe you should say something,” MM said to Butcher as he walked away, “You might be surprised with what you discover.”

[waithyuck]

cold

pairing: vampire!huang renjun x reader (f) *halloweenie special*

genre: smut, supernatural au

word count: 3k

warnings: blood, biting, blood drinking, brief descriptions of gore (I guess idrk), explicit language, degradation, sexual content (oral, facefucking), no aftercare, mentions of being killed, renjun is a mean dom :/, reader is kinda weirdly into the whole vampire thing **unedited**

a/n: this was kinda written in a rush but I tried my best to produce it in the best quality I could! I hope y’all enjoy 💕 (I also wanna add that yes, it was already planned that there wouldn’t be any penetrative sex in this)

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~10/24/2020~

~~~~

walking home from work at eleven o’clock at night was probably the worst mistake you could have made. even worse, you thought it would just be such a great idea to take the back alleys, since it was faster and all you wanted to do was lay down on your bed and go to sleep.

you were an idiot, straight up.

you were walking with your head down, too preoccupied reading something on your phone to notice and be alert of your surroundings. you didn’t notice the creeping shadow coming up on you from behind.

when it grabbed you, you weren’t even able to scream; it covered your mouth immediately and shoved you against the brick of the building next to you. when you looked to see what it was, your body froze in horror.

this man–thing...no, creature, was standing before you grinning sinisterly, his sharp canines bared to you as he drank up your figure with his glowing, blood red eyes.

well, this was it. you were going to die in the hands of something you were pretty sure classified as a vampire. you didn’t stand a chance, not with the amount of strength, speed and stealth this man had already showcased to you.

you couldn’t make a sound, the fear inside you suffocating your lungs and making it hard to breathe. the man didn’t utter a word to you, and as he inched his fangs closer and closer to the vein pulsating in your throat, you squeezed your eyes shut and awaited to feel your death.

but it never came.

the weight of the man-creature-vampire thing was lifted off of you, his cold presence gone in an instant. you heard blood curdling snarls ringing out in the darkness of the alley, and you were too afraid to open your eyes to see what was happening.

you imagined that it was basically a fight between two vampires, and the victor would claim you as the meal. you should have run, but your legs were weak as the fear still consumed every cell in your body.

you were basically dooming yourself.

the wild growls finally ceased when you heard a loud crack of bones snapping, followed by a cut off yelp.

you assumed one of them was now dead, and finally you opened your eyes to take in the sight before you.

there stood another creature; much younger than the previous one by the looks of him, standing over the body of the now dead vampire. it’s head was severed from its body messily, the neck snapped clean off to where you could see the spine poking out in its place.

you wanted to throw up.

when the younger vampire looked at you, his blood red eyes squinted, and he moved closer to you in seconds, using his super speed to crowd you back against the brick wall. you whimpered, but didn’t feel as much fear as you did before, and you managed to keep your eyes open as you stood before him.

his nostrils flared as he sniffed around you, and it surprisingly didn’t weird you out as much as it should have. truth be told, even in the dim light of the moon, you could tell that this man was highly attractive. you cursed yourself for thinking this way about a creature that could easily tear you in two.

you were torn from your thoughts when you saw two fingers snap in front of your face, making your body jolt in return.

“the fuck are you doing out this late?” he suddenly questioned, his voice not at all like how you were imagining it to sound. it was soft…it wasn’t a voice you would have paired to be with a vampire. “it’s dangerous as fuck out here, you know.”

he was speaking so casually, like he didn’t just rip the head off of one of his kind. you sputtered out of cheer nervousness (and a little bit because he was so dazzlingly attractive), not knowing how to respond. his blood red eyes practically rolled out of his head at your pathetic attempts to speak.

“humans are so pathetic, seriously.” he spat, looking you up and down. “I don’t even know why I saved you. you smell good enough to devour.” his smirk, paired with the last part made your spine straighten, your hair prickling at the sense of possible danger.

“n-no!” you finally managed to blurt out, your hands coming up to instinctively cover your vulnerable throat. you wracked your brain to try to figure out how to negotiate with him; to get him to leave here without draining your body of life and blood.

unfortunately, only one thing came to mind, and you hated yourself for thinking it in the first place.

...you couldn't deny that you kinda had a thing for the whole undead, blood sucking, super strong creature shit he had going on. a million and one flashes raced through your mind, showing you different scenes of this stranger taking you up against the brick wall right here, and even biting you just to have a little taste.

it was fucked up, but you could stop your thighs from clenching at the possibilities.

he quirked an eyebrow at you, his smirk never leaving as he leaned into your space even further, flattening your body to the wall with his own.

“no what?” he practically purred, his cold breath fanning against your skin, causing goosebumps to form instantaneously.

“I’ll…” you started, weakly meeting his strong gaze. “I’ll d-do anything...j-just don’t kill me.” you tried to sound strong but there was a shiver in your voice, your chest trembling as you tried to speak. you saw his eyes flash with mischief before he pulled away entirely, giving you your space back.

“okay.” he nodded, his lips still presented in a smirk. “I’ll come find you whenever I need a favor.”

you couldn’t even ask him to elaborate or question him on exactly how he would find you, because in an instant he was gone from your sight, vanishing away and leaving you in the darkness with the still laying dead body of your first attacker.

with a quick shake of your whole body, you practically ran home, slamming the door shut and locking everything, including the windows.

~~

you weren’t sure when to expect to see the vampire who saved you again, but you didn’t think it would take him two weeks to show his face.

you were minding your own business in the safety of your home, throwing your dirty clothes into your bedroom hamper when you heard a soft thud come from your window.

turning around, your eyes met the same red ones from that night two weeks ago, and you had to fight yourself not to shriek. his face was stoic as he stared at you, decked out in all black from his hoodie to his jeans, lowkey making your mouth water.

“hey there,” he said, slithering closer to your form. once again, he cornered you against a wall, not caring to give you any personal space. he inhaled softly, his nose living closer to your neck. “you smell absolutely delicious, darling.” his sharp canines were on display as he smiled mischievously at you, your heart racing in your chest at not only the fear, but the proximity of this attractive man as well.

“um, h-hello.” you muttered out stupidly, wringing your hands together in front of you.

“let’s cut to the chase, shall we?” he stood up at little straighter as he spoke, his eyes glinting as he looked at you. “you owe me a favor, and I’m being generous enough to let you choose what you want to give me.” he looked down at his nails, feigning disinterest as you were practically hyperventilating before him.

you nodded your head to acknowledge that you were hearing him, and he took that as a sign to continue.

“so, what will it be?”

you thought back to the thoughts you were plagued with that first night, and you almost immediately clenched your thighs. you really wanted this vampire to have you, all of you, even your blood for fucks sake. it’s like the sight of him cast a spell on you, and all you wanted to do was have his cock shoved down your throat as he did his best to ruin you completely.

you knew he was capable too; there was an aura around him that screamed dominance, and having the extra factor of being a vampire did nothing to extinguish your lewd sexual fantasies.

it was really fucked up, but you made your mind up in less than a minute.

“you can bite m-me.” you squeaked, looking anywhere but him. you swore you heard his breath hitch, but he nonetheless crowded you once again as he nosed into the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

“hmm, tempting.” he allowed the tip of his nose to graze softly against your sensitive skin, causing you to shiver as it tickled you. his sinister eyes flicked up to meet yours. “are you sure?”

with a small nod you agreed, your brain screaming at you to run and never look back, but your core telling you the very opposite.

his hands found your waist as he grounded you, holding you steady as he finally began to scrape his teeth along your flesh.

“I won’t take too much,” he muttered, almost like a reassurance to you. before you could even nod, he quickly plunged his fangs into your skin, and the pleasurably painful sensation immediately had you moaning out loudly.

you gripped his shoulders tightly, your eyes glazing over as your whole body pulsated with a sudden need, the burning hot pleasure running down from where he was currently biting you to your core, instantly causing your panties to flood with your desire.

he took a few large gulps, and once you began to feel lightheaded, he pulled his fangs from you, moaning at the taste of your blood.

not being able to hold yourself back, you spoke very through that came into your head.

“I w-want your cock,” you breathed out desperately, not sure exactly where the statement came from. it was so sudden and out of the blue, but he didn’t seem fazed for one second.

“oh really?” he questioned playfully, his blood stained lips quirking up in amusement.

“”yes, please,” you begged in response, gripped at the fabric of his hoodie tightly.

he hummed, his throat vibrating with the sound.

“get on your knees.” he demanded, his demeanor changing as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve. he pointed to the ground in between the both of you and at first you were shocked at his words, even though you were the one who admitted you wanted him in the first place. you pressed your back against the wall even tighter as he gazed upon you with his blood-red eyes, your woozy head spinning.

“h-huh?” you managed to sputter out stupidly, causing him to sigh in annoyance. he shot his cold hand up to grip your throat, his nails squeezing into your skin slightly as you squeaked in surprise.

“you said you wanted my cock, right?” renjun growled, getting closer to your face with each word. you managed to nod shyly in his hold, your eyes wide and glassy as you stared back at him. he smirked, “then get on your fucking knees. don’t make me tell you again.”

he let go of you neck and returned his hand to his side, your eyes watching his every move before you finally shook yourself out of your stupor and lowered yourself to your knees in front of him. you didn’t really know what to do with yourself at that point, so you looked up at him with wide eyes, waiting to see if he would say anything else.

he rolled his eyes, scoffing as he reached for the button and zipper of his black jeans.

“dear fuck, do I have to fucking hold your hand through all of this?” his voice was icy and biting, but you still felt a warm shiver crawl up your spine as your core clenched at his words. he finally was able to undo the button and zipper and he then pulled down both his pants and underwear, leaving his almost fully hard cock out in the open on display for you.

he gripped your hair suddenly, forcing your face toward his crotch roughly. “put it in your fucking mouth, slut.”

you didn’t hesitate then, opening your mouth while using a hand to guide him past your lips, immediately swirling your tongue around the sensitive head. he groaned out above you and reached a hand to rest behind your head, not pushing on you just yet.

this wasn’t your first rodeo, so you were able to almost instantly take him all the way down your throat, only having to work up to it about three times. when his cockhead hit the back of your throat, you gagged a bit but it paid off to hear his moan cry out above you. you looked up innocently at him, bobbing your head up and down with your cheeks hollowed, drool dribbling out of the sides of your lips, adding to the messy look.

“that’s a good girl,” he breathed, his hand rubbing the back of your head almost tenderly before he shoved you completely down on him, your nose pressed against the skin of his pelvis.

your eyes blew wide and tears were prickling, but you willed yourself to relax, your throat slightly constructing instinctively around the intrusion in it.

“can I fuck your pretty face?” he growled out, finally letting you up for air. you pulled off to breathe, spit connecting your lips and the head of his angry red cock.

you managed to croak out a rough “yes”, your voice already hoarse from the few minutes of action it had been through. he gave you no time to prepare before he reached down to cup your chin and jaw in one hand, opening up your mouth before he roughly thrusted inside.

it sounded so filthy; the sounds escaping you were not cute and you were a bit embarrassed, but you were enjoying every second of the abuse to your mouth and throat. your panties were most definitely ruined at this point, and you could feel your pussy pulsating with every rough thrust of his cock down your throat.

“fucking take it, slut,” he grunted, his hips never ceasing their movements. you tried to breath through your nose as best you could, and were grateful for the small breaks he would allow you before going to town once again.

you braced your hands on his thighs as his pace quickened, his hips sloppy as he chased his high. there were no words shared and no derogatory comments spit at you as he grew closer and closer, his growls and snarls only growing louder with each passing thrust.

the sounds he was making were almost enough to get you to cum untouched, the mental stimulation almost overbearing as you felt your core tingle in need for him.

there was a nagging precense in the back of your mind that told you he wasn’t going to fuck you like you so desperately wanted him to, and there was a part of you that was perfectly okay with that.

the vampire let out a loud growl before he coneoktelt buried himself to the hilt down your flexing throat, your head knocking into the wall behind you as his cum shot directly down your esophagus.

it was uncomfortable, but you managed to swallow what you could before he pulled out and shot the rest of his hot cum all over your awaiting face.

you basked in the feeling of each shot landing on your skin, and you closed your eyes. your body felt as if it had no energy left, and you barely noticed him pulling his pants back up and fastening them closed in one swift movement.

you were right about him not fucking you or returning the favor, which was fine considering the lack of strength you currently had. the burn in your core was slowly fading along with your physical and mental strength.

as you lay slumped against the wall, his cum painted on your face and mouth, you mustered up the strength to look at and found him perched on your windowsill, ready to leave.

“what’s your n-name?” you croaked, your eyes barely open.

you could make out a smile forming on his lips.

“renjun,” he quickly responded, a lightness in his voice that you hadn’t heard before and that was a complete contrast to his earlier tone.

“and don’t worry, darling. I’ll be back for you.”

and in a quick flash, he was gone, and it was like he wasn’t ever there in the first place.

[tg-headcanons]

Nsfw alphabet with naki?

HORNY HOURS WITH IDIOT (affectionate)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): he’s never quite sure what to do right when it’s over and will probably just wait for his partner to do something. He’ll follow their lead for the most part, but what he really wants is praise and cuddles. He’s one of those ghouls who really needs the post sex cuddle sessions to avoid the emotional drop

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): on himself he likes his teeth, on his partner he doesn’t like anything in particular. He’s demisexual and when he is attracted to someone sexually he doesn’t really break down what specific things he likes into parts. He’s content to just like their body as a whole

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically): he needs his partner to be patient with him since he doesn’t come very easily. It takes him awhile to get there and he can’t finish without his kakuhou being touched, some ghouls are just built like that but he’s a little embarrassed by it

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): though he’s more used to quick and careless rough stuff, what he really wants is to be pampered. Tell him he’s pretty, touch him gently, fuck him or ride him. Let him lay back and be taken care of, let him know that he deserves it. He’s a pillow prince at heart

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?): he has experience, but it isn’t all good. In the past he’s had partners ranging from distant and pushy to downright cruel. Some have been alright, he’s hooked up with people like Miza and Hooguro and really liked it, but others weren’t as kind. Plenty of people have slept with him without caring if he enjoys it, plenty have fucked him through his heat and left him to deal with the emotional drop alone, and Jason in particular was among the worst when it came to downright brutal sex. Naki wants people to give him affection and attention, but sadly Aogiri isn’t the best place to find safe and respectful partners. By now he thinks of sex as something that’s usually painful but can earn him some praise. His partner will need to be very gentle and soft with him at first, he needs to learn that he can set boundaries and that his pleasure is just as important as theirs

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying): if he’s bottoming he likes missionary, He’s used to being bent over things in any abandoned building or broken into house he and past partners could find and unceremoniously fucked so being able to look his partner in the eyes and kiss them is amazing. When topping he likes doggy, he hasn’t had much of a chance to be dominant before, and he really likes the feeling of control from time to time

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.): he’s not going to joke around, and if his partner is joking he probably won’t notice

H = Heat (what are heats like for them? How do they handle it?): some ghouls get lucky and have brief, mild heats, and others get very unlucky. Naki is among the ladder. They’re absolutely horrible, he was unfortunate enough to end up with a heat hormonal disorder and no way to treat it so he suffers with them. They last a whole week, he has horrible cramps, fevers, nausea, unrelenting muscle weakness and insomnia. In the past he’s handled them by trying to find a decent place to hide and wait them out, but most of the time they break him and he resorts to sleeping with anyone to relieve it. It isn’t safe and the type of ghoul who would fuck someone in heat without talking it out with them beforehand isn’t the type to be kind and respectful. His partner will need to sit him down and talk about how he wants to go about it before it happens to be sure they have a plan and don’t cross any of his boundaries, and he’ll honestly be grateful for the sense of security that comes with a safe place to get through it. Just keep him from overheating, bring some painkillers, be gentle with him and maybe ask around among rich ghoul circles for doctors who can treat heat disorders and he’ll fall in love all over again

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect): he’s very intimate. He always holds out hope that sex will be romantic and kind and even with the kind of people he’s been with in the past he hasn’t given up on that fairy tail Candlelight-And-Velvet sex he wants. Tell him how pretty he is and kiss him and he’ll be melting in your arms

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon): considering that he’s homeless, roams with a pack of people, and that it takes more for him to come than it takes others, for Naki jerking off takes more planning than you’d think. He needs to wait until he can find somewhere that he can go in private between missions, often rooms in unoccupied buildings where the White Suits are staying, and then he can relieve himself. Since he needs his kakuhou touched he rubs up against something to stimulate it. If he’s lucky he can find a living room or bedroom with pillows he can use, but if he can’t he’ll fold up his jacket. Between touching his cock and rutting his kakuhou against the pillows he’s able to get himself off every so often before slipping back into the group and hoping no one has questions about where he went

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks): blindfolds. You know how when vets treat horses and deer they cover their eyes to make them less nervous? The same thing works on Naki. He’s a little uneasy when getting started and oddly enough, if he’s blindfolded and unable to anticipate movements, that fades away. All he has to do is focus on the sensations of being touched and words of praise, and any anxiety is replaced by euphoria

L = Location (favorite places to do the do): bedroom. For most that seems normal but for him that’s a luxury. A comfy bed? A door for privacy? Lights that can be turned off? That’s living like kings right there

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going): genuine affection. Nothing gets him hard like assurance that he’s loved and wanted through the simple kindness he craves

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): Naki has some trouble with setting boundaries, he assumes his partner will be mad and needs the assurance that there’s nothing wrong with not being comfortable with things. He’s not quite sure where to start so he’d have to say that he doesn’t like anything too rough or mean. Things like bottoming unprepared, impact play or degradation. Biting and hard grips are fine since that’s normal for ghouls to enjoy but things that are purposefully sadistic are off the table. He’s getting better at speaking up when something hurts physically or emotionally, and it feels good to be able to say no without feeling guilty about it

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.): he prefers to give. Because he’s a ghoul, Teeth Near Dick is a valid fear and one that he’d rather avoid. Though he isn’t opposed to being the one giving head

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.): he can take a lot, but prefers for his partner to be gentle and slow when he’s bottoming. Though when he’s on top, he’s pretty quick, not so much that he’s trying to be rough, rather he gets caught up in feeling good and ends up fucking like a rabbit

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.): he hates them. He knows that “quick fuck” = “not enough time for him to finish” = “not enough time for post sex cuddles” = “huge emotional drop.” He needs to have time, he needs to have the right touches, and he needs to have decent aftercare. Quickies don’t allow for that so he isn’t too keen on them

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.): he doesn’t really like to. He knows his comfort zone in regards to sex and he knows that he doesn’t do well with pushing its boundaries. He’d rather stick to doing it inside, and if there’s anything new his partner wants to bring into the bedroom it would need to be gradual

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?): he lasts a hell of a long time. He goes a round or two before being tapped out, but with how long it takes him to come those rounds can be awhile

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?): he doesn’t have any. He wouldn’t be opposed to some being used on him as long as they don’t hurt though

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): he doesn’t like teasing and he doesn’t like to be teased, he doesn’t see the appeal

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.): I’m sure this comes as no surprise but Naki cries during sex. He does it when he’s in pain, he does it when he’s feeling amazing, he does it with any strong sensation at all so no matter what it’s just going to happen. It’s normal for him to let a few tears fall while he’s fucking, along with some pretty loud moans. What is surprising is that he’s one of those rare ghouls who purrs during sex. He doesn’t always do it because he needs to feel very safe and very good, but with the right partner he’ll be purring like a kitten

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character): he likes wearing things that his partner gives him. It’s a task that he can obey, it’s a physical reminder that they care enough about him to decorate him, it’s something that shows everyone who he belongs to. Whether it’s a collar or a suit he jumps at the opportunity to wear something that marks him as theirs

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes): 7.5 inches, life may have screwed him over but at least his meat is huge

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?): a little below average. Sex isn’t as important to him as romance, rather it’s another expression of romance, so only doing it a few times a month is enough for him. Though he’d be okay with doing it more if his partner wants to, he likes doing anything as long as it’s with them and sex can be amazing

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): he doesn’t fall asleep after sex unless he’s sure he’s somewhere safe. He’s used to having to immediately fix his clothes and leave whenever it’s over, but if he has a partner who cares about him, a room that’s safe, and some cuddles to put him at ease, he’ll slowly drift off

[thedistantdusk]

Arcadia, Chapter 2

Here we gooooo :) Thanks again to @secretkeeper13, @accio-broom, @ginisbetterthanfirewhiskey, @remedialpotions, @not-steve42, @jamezbot, @gryffindorhealer, and the majority of the HG server for their help <3

If you’ve just arriving, here is Chapter 1. :)

_____________________

D A Y  +  T W O 

He’s driving her mad. Absolutely fucking mad.

Ginny grips the hose in an attempt to water the rose bush outside their window, but her eyes are unfocused, unseeing.

This entire thing was such a terrible idea.

She should’ve insisted on another Auror as backup on her first solo mission. Someone less attractive. Someone she hadn’t shagged up one side of the Burrow and down the next.

But the request was difficult to grant in the first place. It took Ginny a full year of documentation to prove this was a necessary use of resources. Attica (and Unspeakables in general) don’t tend to be well-liked by the older Aurors, which made Harry the best fit. The only fit. Everyone— from Kingsley to Attica to even Hermione— agreed. And even aside from the sheer convenience of it all, Ginny’s years of experience with the Thought Chamber and Harry’s ability to sniff out trouble like a niffler after gold made them a brilliant combination to tackle… this.

It’s just a pity, then, that she still finds him so bloody attractive. Even though he’s become a bit of a brooding, sarcastic mess.

Ginny blinks down at the bright pink petals, their leathery flesh beaded with water droplets. Maybe the problem’s that she hasn’t spent much time around him since then. He still comes around for Sunday roast, of course, when his work schedule permits. In spite of what Mum went through, she’d never allow Harry to feel unwelcome. It’s his house as much as theirs— and yes, Ginny still lives at home. It’s the least she can do to maintain a degree of normalcy, even though everything irrevocably changed when It happened.

Ginny’s hands begin to shake around the hose; her brain starts to spiral. The Burrow is less welcoming now. Their hugs are more forced. Their family more distant. And although everyone functions on a basic human level, Ginny knows in her gut that the remaining Weasley siblings — Harry most certainly included — are still going through the motions to cope.

And maybe it’s because she really hadn’t had a libido in nearly five years, but fuck, it hasn’t taken much to come rushing back. Her thighs press together as her head fills with another series of intrusive thoughts instead. But she can’t suppress the memory of Harry emerging from the shower this morning, his top-half dripping, his bottom-half toweled. Not that it matters much, not when she knows every fucking inch of—

“I think that bush is good now!”

Ginny jumps, a string of swears springing to her lips. “I— fuck.” She turns to the unexpected voice. “Sorry! Let me—”

But Oliver from last night merely leans over to turn off the hose. “You’ll quickly learn that sort of language isn’t great for Arcadia, Jen,” he intones, finger wagging.

Years of training allow Ginny to blush in chagrin. To shove aside the telling-off she’d have provided a long, long time ago. “Sorry.” She winces. “It’s just a habit, leftover from—”

“—London, right,” he finishes, his eyes never leaving hers. “Anyway. Listen. Sharon and I would be honored if you joined us for dinner tonight.”

“Did I hear something about dinner?” Harry strolls out of the house, the door shutting behind him with a satisfying thump. “Goodie! As my wife knows, dinner is my favorite word.” He rests his chin on her head, sliding his thumbs through the belt loops of her jeans. Ginny’s heart clenches in familiarity even as her face remains placid. They agreed to all of these terms beforehand… to feign public affection. To seem utterly smitten. It’s just funny how they’ve both relied on old habits.

Ginny reckons that makes sense, though. After all, it worked for them once.

She turns towards Harry with a pout. “But Pookie Pie, I thought your favorite word was snuggles! We certainly did enough of that last night.”

Harry’s chuckle rings out with false bravado as he tucks her hair behind her ears. “We did something, all right. Not sure if snuggling is the right word for it. What do you think, Oliver?” Harry whips around to face him. “What’s your favorite word for… marital relations?” His eyebrows waggle suggestively above his glasses; Ginny stomps on his foot to keep herself from laughing.

Oliver, however, does not find them delightful. “I think this is for you. From Mike.” He points to a box that he apparently rested on the ground while Ginny was drowning the roses.

Harry bends over to pick it up. This does nothing to distract her.

“Couldn’t Mike erm…” Ginny shakes her head to clear it. “Sorry. Couldn’t he bring it over himself? He lives just—”

“Out of town on business, I’m afraid.” Oliver’s voice turns cold as he peers at Ginny again. “He won’t be back for weeks. Months, maybe.”

Ginny makes a noise of concern and rests a fist on her hip. “Huh! That’s funny. What out-of-town business could a primary school teacher possibly have?”

Oliver’s eyes narrow, but his grin remains. “Teacher business, I guess.”

“When can we speak to someone about the trampoline?” Harry blurts, slicing the tension. “I’m missing my exercise, Ollie. It’s how I stay fit. You won’t like me when I’m not exercising!”

With that, Oliver’s grin finally fades. “Well, you can ask Mr. Gogolak, but I don’t think anything will come of it. He’s available tonight from 5 o’clock to 6:13, on the dot. He lives just up there, on the corner. Anyway, I’ll be off.” He gives a parting wave and turns to walk up the drive, but Harry isn’t done.

“Not sure how we’ll manage to make that and dinner, though,” he calls. “Don’t we have to be indoors by six?”

But it seems Oliver is absolutely intent on being elsewhere, because he opts to walk backwards and yell from the street. “Of course not!” he shouts. “Six is only the move-in deadline.” Then he barks out a cruel laugh, throwing his hands in the air. “Any idiot knows that dinner starts at 7!” With that, he sends them a final glare before lumbering away, his brown loafers crunching on the pavement.

Harry and Ginny snort in unison; if Oliver hears them, he doesn’t engage.

“See you later!” Ginny confirms, ensuring it’s loud enough for him to hear. Then she drops her voice to a stage-whisper and cups her hand into a regal wave. “Hope Sharon removes that stick from your arse before dinner tonight, you miserable sack of shit. Suck my dick!”

Harry laughs. “As much as I appreciate the support, Muffin Cakes, that’s one insult that just doesn’t work when you say it.”

And Ginny doesn’t know what comes over her next… she really, really doesn’t.

Because in the blink of an eye, she’s pushed Harry against the front door with a petulant pout. The pulsing between her legs returns with humiliating swiftness; it’s a blessing, really, that Harry’s dreadful at flirting and picking up on cues. They’re in public, but this is the furthest thing from acting.

Nonetheless, Harry’s Adam’s apple bobs as her arms drape around his neck. She watches, rapt, as his eyes darken. Apart from that one slip-up last night, he’s excelled at his job… and as she leans into his hard chest, she realizes how she really feels: she's jealous. Dreadfully jealous.

How dare he be better at this? What in hell gave him the right to soak her knickers with a single look? She’s had years of professional training and a lifetime of practice, but it comes naturally to him— this pretending shit.

And for fuck’s sake… he’s a lot better at it.

“But it’s been ages since you’ve been in my knickers, Baby Bear,” she croons, batting her eyelashes. “How would you know?”

She intends it playfully. A gentle way to put him in his place. But to her surprise, something stinging and sober crosses Harry’s face.

The moment’s over… absolutely over.

In a flash, he pushes her away and gestures at the door. After you. She nods, still turned on but now confused. The whole thing reminds her of ancient history, where she waited for him after each quidditch practice and thought, wished, prayed that he’d touch her… all while hoping to God he wouldn’t.

It takes until they’re inside for her to figure out why he’s upset.

He locks the door behind them with a wave of his wand— and when he whips around, his face is twisted into such a brooding scowl that it pins her on the spot. Shit.

“It goes without saying,” Harry mutters, voice dangerously low, “that there are some things a bloke just doesn’t forget.” He lets out a deep breath, his eyelashes fluttering. “Ok?”

Oh.

Ginny’s cheeks flush as it all comes rushing back. She’s honestly forgotten how… attached he was to that ability. How much he prided himself on being able to please her. How he worshipped her body with such respectful, hushed reverence that it still features in her fantasies.

It seems there’s a limit to his acting skills, after all. A line that he just won’t cross. She should be chuffed that she got what she wanted. Instead, her stomach throbs with guilt.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, biting her lip. “I didn’t mean—”

“Forget it.” He waves his hand over his shoulder and trudges upstairs, leaving her in hollow silence.

Right.

_________________________________

Mr. Gogolak crosses his left leg over his right and swirls his brandy tumbler. Between the ruddy patches on his cheeks and the way his words slip over each other, it’s not his first of the evening. Harry’s reminded of Slughorn. In the worst possible way.

“Anyway.” Gogolak waves at the massive tabbed binder to his left. “As the rules clearly stipulate, a trampoline would lead to other things. Unsavory things.” He raises his eyebrows and takes a sip.

Harry’s eyes flit around the room, trying to take it all in. The decor is… nice, he supposes, if you want every guest to be aware — beyond a shadow of a doubt— that You’ve Been Abroad, thanks. Multi-colored felt flower vases dot the floating shelves above Gogolak’s head, each a pop of color in a room that’s otherwise painfully beige. Scrolls hand-painted with renditions of Buddha and Lokta hang on the far wall. And above them… Harry cocks his head, puzzled, and tries to place where he’s seen that particular mask before.

“Of course,” Ginny agrees with a fervent nod. “We understand the need for decorum and cooperation, don’t we, Hen?”

“Where‘s that mask from?” Harry blurts, nudging his chin up.

Ginny rubs her temples in frustration, but if anything, Gogolak seems flattered.

“Oh! That.” His face flushes with pride as he takes another drink. “That’s a wrathful Mahakala mask. From Tibet! I bought it cheap off a street orphan during my last trip. Can’t say he had much need for it, what with being starving and living in the street.” His laugh booms over the sitting room.

Harry tries to focus. He’s there for Ginny. He’s there for Ginny. He’s only backup. But ah, bugger, after the other shit today it’s too much, and—

“Ha!” Harry returns his humorless laugh. “Isn’t poverty hilarious, Jen?”

There’s an anxious pause.

Ginny ends it with a fake giggle of her own. “As you can see, Mr. Gogolak, my husband is growing a bit testy without his exercise!” She nudges Harry in the ribs— hard enough to make her point, but not hard enough to hurt. “So if we could only have the trampoline, then—”

“‘Fraid not,” Gogolak slurs, peering down at his brandy again. “See, there’s a reason Arcadia has been named Best Village for so long: People simply love to live here!”

“Oh?” Ginny returns her teacup to the table. “Everyone loves to live here?” She rests her elbows on her knees, her voice dropping to a discreet whisper. “What about the people who’ve gone missing, then?”

At first, Gogolak is unperturbed. Then his smile deepens, his eyes traveling from Ginny’s face down to her chest. For fuck’s sake. This arsehole can’t be serious! Harry’s gut swirls with something visceral and protective. He wraps his arm around her shoulders as his hand inches for the wand in his back pocket. Ginny catches his hand on the way and interlaces their fingers with an almost imperceptible, “Shh.”

“Well, well, well,” Gogolak drawls, leaning back to full-on leer at her. “You’re a feisty one, aren’t you? Should’ve known. You’re a ginger, after all.”

Wrong answer.

“Not sure what the color of her hair has to do with her question,” Harry says stiffly. It’s the politest thing he can manage. Ginny squeezes his thigh.

Gogolak faces Harry instead, his face a mask of delighted malice. “Your wife is very beautiful, Mr. Petri,” he drawls. “You must forgive an old man for noticing.”

“Pee-tri,” Harry grouses.

Is it possible to accidentally Avada Kedavra someone with your eyes? Surely he’d be forgiven for that, yeah? He counts five deep breaths, his face burning, as he waits for Ginny to take the lead.

He’s still a bit taken aback at how quickly things changed. He thought he was irritated with her earlier, but now he realizes that frustrated is a better word. They haven’t been together in ages, but she has to know what she still does to him. It wasn’t like she’d grown less beautiful. And while he’s not proud of how things ended, he’s spent the last five years taking pride in knowing her. In being her first, as primitive and knuckle-dragging as that sounds. Because no matter how bad things were, he was always able to make her…

Yeah.

He bites the inside of his cheek. Had he deluded himself into thinking it was as good for her as it was for him?

Ginny clears her throat again. “But what of the people?” she prompts. “The missing people? Like Eric Highland, who lived in our house until last August, when—”

“Oh, him!” Gogolak booms out another uncomfortable laugh and drains the rest of his tumbler. “Well, don’t tell anyone I told you this, but—” He makes a slitting motion across his throat and pours himself another drink. “Committed suicide. Quite a mess.”

Then Gogolak stills, his eyes widening; for the first time this evening, he looks vaguely embarrassed. “Oh, but not in your home, of course!” He waves his hand dismissively. “We’d never, you know, let someone move in after that. Would affect property values, you see.”

Harry’s heart pounds in his ears as Ginny clenches his hand, for once. He wonders if he’s ever given less of a shit about property values.

Another span of uncomfortable silence stretches between them… but this one grows more furious and heated with every second. The version of her he knew before would have Bat Bogeyed this wanker before she took a breath. But everything’s different now.

“That’s… not the preferred term,” Ginny finally manages, her voice strained. Harry grips her hand more tightly; that odd rush of pride returns. He knew she’d say something. There’s not a single version of her that would let that go.

Gogolak’s brow furrows. “What do you—”

“—Took his life,” Ginny interjects, her voice ringing with the righteousness Harry only dimly recognizes from the woman he knew before. “Or died by suicide. Or had terminal depression.”

He holds her hand even tighter as she draws a deep breath, shifting in her seat. Get him, Gin. Get the bastard. Whatever you need, I’m there.

“Committed is a word that… implies a crime,” Ginny finishes. But her words sound careful now. “It just adds to the stigma that people with mental illness are problematic. Words mean things. So.”

Gogolak presses his lips into a thin line. “Forget I brought it up.”

“I will,” Ginny says coolly.

Ginny hadn’t thought much could be worse than the meeting with Mr. Gogolak. Unfortunately, dinner with Sharon and Oliver is proving her wrong.

“This is free-range chicken, of course,” Oliver drawls, gesturing towards their plates. “Got them at the organic market. Anything for health!”

They’d already been treated to iceberg lettuce salads and glasses of generic Merlot. Perhaps she should have anticipated chicken breast and rice as the thrilling main course.

Harry cuts his chicken breast with a sigh. “That’s a pity, Oliver. We all know that caged chickens are tastier!”

Ginny muffles a snort with a cough and reaches for her glass of wine.

Sharon pauses, fork mid-way to her mouth, to peer at Harry, bleary-eyed and confused. Oh, for fuck’s sake; what was it about suburbia that removed one’s ability to recognize a joke?

Oliver changes the subject before Ginny gets the chance. “Where did you two meet, anyway?” he grunts. “And how long have you been married?”

Ginny smiles, preparing the canned response they practiced for months. They met in uni through mutual friends. They both work in computers, and last year, they finally realized it was time to leave the big city.

Harry shatters all of that with three words.

“Magic camp, actually!” he announces, throwing an arm around Ginny’s shoulders.

Fuck. She analyzes her chicken with newfound intensity and tries to imagine something sad.

“Huh,” Oliver says flatly. “Wouldn’t have taken either of you for magicians.”

Sharon has the grace to act embarrassed. “Now now, love,” she chides, reaching for the breadbasket, “I’m sure people have loads of hobbies that aren’t always obvious to everyone!”

“Exactly!” Harry grins and reaches for a piece of baguette. “Besides, it’s mostly Jenny who’s mad for it. Card tricks, pulling bunnies from hats, sawing women in half. Even—” he pauses for a dramatic gasp— “magic wands! You name it, she loves it.”

“Well!” Sharon raises her eyebrows; it’s clear she’s feigning being impressed. “If I’m ever in need of disappearing something, I’ll know who to call!”

Aha! The perfect opening!

“Speaking of disappearing,” Ginny starts, as casually as possible, “we checked with Saint Julian’s Primary. It’s not true Mike left on business.”

Sharon’s smile freezes and melts with such speed that Ginny feels a pang of sympathy. Poor Sharon. She’s really just doing her best to be a pleasant hostess. It’s Oliver who has the clear ulterior motive.

The man in question takes another sip of wine, unfazed. “And why did you have interest in contacting a primary school in the first place? Bit weird for a grown adult, that.”

Harry releases another fake chuckle. “Oh, Oliver, you’re such a prankster!” He bites off some bread. “Surely you’re not turning the tables on my wife and accusing her of being the weird one. After all, all she did was ask about the whereabouts of a lovely member of our community. Right?”

He gives Oliver such an exaggerated wink that even Ginny almost believes him. “And besides…” Harry’s hand wraps around her shoulder again. “Do you reckon we should tell them?” he murmurs, voice laden with his expectation.

Ginny rolls her eyes, fully intent on a thin-lipped, silent warning about making shit up… but Harry’s earnest expression stops her. His green eyes blink behind his glasses, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned. Before she knows what’s happening, one of his warm hands cups her chin while the other comes to rest on her stomach.

Oh. She sucks in a breath, her heart pounding— because for a moment, she forgets where she is. She forgets they’re faking. She forgets they split up and chose separate paths, that they weren’t looking through a portal of what could have been, should have been, before their lives turned to shit.

“Not yet, of course,” Harry murmurs, appearing for all the world like he’s drinking her in as his fingers tap at her stomach. “But soon. We hope.”

And with that, he abruptly clears his throat and turns back to the Skinners. “Anyway, that’s why we called Saint Julian’s,” Harry adds, nonchalantly as you please. “Always good to be prepared, eh?”

“Oh, how exciting!” Sharon cries, clasping her hands together. “And yes, I agree— preparedness is key.”

“Knew you’d be happy for us,” Harry says with another wink. “Quite an exciting time, I’m sure you understand.”

It’s then that Ginny finds her voice. “So. Erm,” she starts, trying to focus. “They hadn’t heard from him. Mike. The school, I mean.” She takes another sip of wine to get her bearings back. “Any idea where he could’ve gone? You understand why we’re a bit worried, especially if we’re planning to—”

“No,” Oliver snaps, nostrils flaring. Sharon’s fork clatters to her plate; if swearing were allowed in this house, Ginny’s confident she would’ve let one slip. “I don’t understand, and you’ll find that snooping isn’t a past-time I appreciate,” Oliver finishes, drawing himself up taller to puff out his chest.

Ginny lets out an incredulous chuckle. “But Oliver… this is a matter of safety. We’re worried about our neighbor.”

“Yeah, Ollie-O!” Harry clucks his tongue, relaxing further into his chair. “Perhaps Arcadia isn’t as perfect as we were led to believe.”

Oliver just fixes them both with a stern glare. “Nope,” he says flatly. The p pops. “You’re wrong. Per usual.”

For six seconds, the four of them sit in painful, frigid silence. Ginny feels Harry’s hand reach behind him… inching closer to his wand...

“Jenny!” Sharon finally chirps, her voice a falsetto. Oh, thank fuck. “I need to walk the dog. Would you join me?”

___________________________

Captain Bone’s toenails tick on the pavement as Sharon holds his lead. Ginny peers at him with unexpected affection as he prances beneath the street lights. Dogs are too high-maintenance for her to even consider, but something about this one is undeniably appealing. As if he hears her, Captain Bone turns to Ginny with a slobbery grin.

Sharon laughs. “He likes you. He’s a sucker for a pretty girl.”

Ginny scratches beneath the thick leather collar with Captain Bone emblazoned on a bronze plate. He throws his head back for more access. Poor Captain Bone. The whole collar looked horribly uncomfortable. “I like him too,” Ginny agrees as he flounces away. “I’m afraid work keeps me too busy for a dog, though.”

Sharon waves this away. “Nah. I’ve seen the way Henry stares at you.” She flashes a knowing smile as they continue strolling, side-by-side. “I reckon if you really wanted a dog, he’d oblige.”

Captain Bone halts, mid-step, and picks up his leg. Sharon removes a waste bag from her pocket.

“You’re probably right,” Ginny mutters. She’s not sure why that feels like admitting to a scandal.

Sharon sighs. “The way he looks at you. The way he touches you. Like he’s holding the whole world in his hands.” Her voice grows wistful, distant; Ginny has a feeling she’s not actually talking about Harry at all.

“Well, we are newlyweds.” Ginny mashes her kitten heel — a clothing acquisition specific to this assignment — into the pavement. “I’m erm. Sure that’ll change.”

But Sharon just stares at Captain Bone as he does his business. “Maybe,” she says softly. “But I don’t reckon Oliver ever looked at me quite like that.”

Ginny blinks at Sharon beneath the streetlight, the fluorescent throwing her features into sharp relief. Wrinkles fold the corners of her eyes. Bits of gray sprout at her scalp beneath the warm chestnut color. Her smile may have been natural once, but now it’s forced. Uneasy. Ginny grimaces. This poor woman… imagine thinking you couldn’t do better than a wanker like Oliver.

“Shit!” Sharon swears, ripping Ginny from her reverie— and soon, she sees why. Captain Bone charges down the street, his lead scraping the ground like a limp noodle. “I wasn’t holding him tightly enough,” she whispers, horrified. “I’ll have to—”

“No,” Ginny says, taking off her heels and thrusting them into Sharon’s arms. “Let me!” And with that, she’s off, bare feet slapping the pavement.

“Don’t blame you for trying to get away,” Ginny mutters, rounding a corner. “The place is bloody creepy. But next time, Captain Bone, could you do this in broad daylight? Nighttime ‘round here is—”

Wait.

Ginny stops, dead in her tracks. A weird sensation creeps over her, crawling against her skin. All the street noise vanishes. Crickets stop chirping; wind stops whistling. She looks around, panic rising in her throat, but nothing looks amiss. She can’t shake it, though… their eerie, numb ringing that fills her head, and—

Like a thunderclap, it all comes back. The faint wind returns. Bugs resume their buzzing. The electric lamppost makes a dull crackling just above her.

Weird. Very fucking weird.

Luckily, Ginny specializes in weird; in the aftermath of whatever the hell that was, she’s more confused than frightened. She takes a few more shaky steps, making every observation she can (temperature, cloud pattern, weather conditions, insect movement)... and that’s when she spies something glinting to her left. Something golden and stuffed in a storm drain.

No. Ginny’s heart pounds as she rushes over, sinking to her knees. It can’t be…

But the closer she gets, the clearer it is: Mike’s chain necklace… the medallion of Saint Julian. Right beside Captain Bone’s pretentious leather collar. For the first time, fear floods her stomach. She surreptitiously reaches for the wand tucked into her waistband. “Accio necklace.” It soars through the gate and into her hand just as Sharon’s footsteps round the corner.

Ginny shoves the necklace into her bra— and it’s only then she realizes that there must’ve been something strange and slimy hanging from it, because whatever the fuck that was is now pressed to her right nipple.

Blech. It takes every bit of her willpower not to shudder and gag. She manages to school her features into innocent concern as Sharon finally catches up.

“Well,” pants Sharon, hands on her thighs, “did you find him?”

“No,” Ginny laments, genuinely upset. She gestures towards the storm drain. “But for some reason, his collar’s down there.”

Even beneath the streetlamps, Sharon’s face turns white.

______________________________

Harry’s back muscles contract in agony as he hunches over the laptop. This whole assignment is a painful reminder that he’s not as young as he used to be. How many hours did he spend snoozing on the lawn at Hogwarts without so much as an ache? But a single bloody night on these shit couches, and he’s popping Paracetamol like sweets. He shifts in place; must be time for another dose.

“Hear anything?” Ginny emerges from the walk-in closet in a towel turban and fluffy white dressing gown, two evidence bags in her hands.

Harry glares at the laptop screen and tries very hard not to remember that one of those bags contains a lacy black bra— one he definitely hasn’t seen before. For the past hour, he’s been in an envious haze of wondering if she bought it for the mission or bought it to wear for someone else.

Either way, it consoles him that deep down, she’s still Ginny; she took this necklace and shoved it into her bra without letting on that something vile and gross was pressed to her ti—

He shakes his head to clear it, but that hurts his neck. For once, though, he embraces the pain. Anything to shift his focus.

“From the props department? No.” Harry sighs and retrieves the medicine bottle from his luggage. “I swear, I have no idea who they got to make the moving boxes and pick the couches, but I’m fairly sure Victoire could do better.”

Ginny scoffs at this. “Well, of course Vic could do better. She’s the most perfect, adorable human alive,” she says fondly, tossing the evidence bags in the transporter box.

It’s plain cardboard, easily disguised as a standard moving box. But with three taps of her wand, the bags evaporate, presumably materializing in a Ministry lab somewhere. Not that Harry cares about the specifics. This is a key example of the sort of detail that’s less and less intriguing the longer he holds this job.

“But I was actually asking if you’d heard anything about Mike and — hey, what are you doing?”

“Paracetamol,” Harry mutters, popping open the bottle. “I’m getting old, Ginny,” he warns, rising to his feet with an exaggerated grimace. “Dunno why you thought it would be a good idea to go on a mission with an old man.”

She rolls her eyes and walks into the bathroom. “You don’t need to be so bloody noble. Please join me on the bed. We could make it longer, even, if you—”

He clears his throat to cut her off. That would be a terrible idea on all counts. Silence on the other side of the door tells him that Ginny either realizes this or chooses not to press the issue. Good...

“Erm. There’s no hits on Mike,” Harry calls into the bathroom. “I reckon he’s dead, Ginny. Credit cards and car haven’t been touched.”

The tap turned on behind the door. “Can’t say I’m shocked,” Ginny admits, voice muffled, “but— holy hell, who taught you how to squeeze toothpaste?”

Harry smirks and returns to the computer. “Myself, probably.”

Ginny lets out another irritated groan. “And the toilet seat’s up!” She strides out of the bathroom. “Strike two!”

Harry hears the distinctive sound of clothing hitting the floor beside her bed but wills himself not to turn around, not to turn around, not to—

“Well.” Ginny sucks her teeth as the bedding rustles. “I suppose I should take all of that as a good sign, really. You clearly don’t have girls in and out of your flat.”

Oh?

Harry’s heart thunders in his ears, his stomach flipping in hope. She takes that as a good sign? Really? He glimpses over his shoulder before remembering he’s not supposed to look.

And just as quickly, he regrets it.

Because Ginny’s sprawled back against the bed, her face so white that she nearly blends into the linens, but his eyes aren’t too focused on her face. They’re drawn down, down, down… down to her creamy chest, dotted with chocolate freckles. Down to her breasts, which he definitely still knows every inch of, even as they rest beneath a black lace vest he hasn’t seen before. Down to the shorts that hug her hips and graze the tips of her thighs… the same thighs he spread open and dipped his head between as she tugged on his hair, her cries breathy and panting in the garden’s evening mist.

Ah, fuck. That one does it. Harry adjusts his basketball shorts as discreetly as possible, but another glimpse at her face tells him he didn’t need to worry.

“I can’t believe I said that,” she whispers, eyes filled with horror.

Harry clears his throat. He honestly forgot she said anything. Now he just feels guilty for eyeing her up while she spiraled.

“I’m so… fuck. This is so unprofessional.” She sinks her head into her hands. “Please, Harry, forget that I said anything. I’m so sorry. That was—”

“It’s forgotten,” he rumbles, his voice deeper than he realized. “Legitimately. I’ve already forgotten it.”

She shoots him a weak smile through the slits of her hands. “I know you haven’t. But thanks for saying it.”

Harry offers his best expression of bafflement as he picks up a pillow from the end of her bed. “Haven’t a clue what you mean, Unspeakable GW. See you at 0-700 hours.” He stops halfway out the door and gives her a military salute. “Unless, of course, you decide to start a bit later,” he adds seriously, “in which case I’ll see you… erm. 0-whenever-the-hell-you-wake-up-hours.”

Ginny giggles, settling against the pillows again.

“Thanks,” she says after a moment, peering at her cuticles. “For… everything. And especially for forgetting—” She makes a vague hand gesture as her cheeks flush the most fascinating shade of pink.

Harry stills, one hand on the doorknob.

He wants to make her feel better… but really, it’s more than that. He wants to tell her that his heart still jumps into his throat when he hears about an Unspeakable being injured on the job. He wants to admit that he avoids Sundays at the Burrow not because he stopped caring, but because he cares too much. He wants to confess, in a rush of passion, that she wasn’t just his first: she’s his only. That he reckons she’ll always be his only. That exchanging work for Them was the stupidest thing he ever agreed to, regardless of the circumstances.

Oh, and of course, that he still fucking loves her. Harry rubs his forehead, frustration gnawing at his stomach. Why in hell did he admit that to himself? You never admit that to yourself. What an idiot.

Still, they have a mission… a moronic, suburban mission filled with every literal and metaphorical breed of Karen imaginable. But as worthless as Harry considers this whole assignment, her neck is on the line if they come up empty-handed. And she values her assignment— and her neck, he reckons— quite a bit.

So he makes the choice to both reassure her. And to be foolishly honest.

“Erm… for what it’s worth?” Harry croaks, staring down the dark corridor to avoid meeting her eyes. “You’re the only girl I’ve ever wanted in my bedroom, anyway.”

Before she can reply, he closes the door and walks away. His cheeks burn as he pads downstairs, but Harry knows it’s best to leave it, really. To save them both the awkwardness.

Even if it means sleeping on this shit couch forever.

[catxsnow]

TIM DRAKE SMUT ALPHABET

I’m bored so I complied all the Tim smut alphabet requests that I got several weeks back into one post so it’s easier to read lol. None of these are new, they’ve all been posted before, just making it for you new comers! 

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Tim likes to have a shower with you after. There’s nothing more sensual to him than washing each other’s bodies. The mix of sweat and cum that you guys made together, are washed away together. He just wants to take care of you at all times.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Your favourite body part of his is his back. He’s got the nicest, muscular back and it’s the sole reason that you always offer to give him massages (which nearly always end up with sex)

His favorite of yours is lips/mouth. He loves kissing you, the sounds that you make, and mostly when their wrapped around his dick.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

As I said in the body part ^ Tim loves your mouth and he sure as fuck loves to cum in it. There’s nothing sexier to him than watching you swallow his load. It’s his favourite place to cum.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Tim once jacked off while he was out on patrol. You begged him all evening to stay home and he promised he wouldn’t be long. That was a lie, he had been out all night and you needed him. So, you sent him a rather extensive video of you pleasuring yourself and he couldn’t take the wait to get back across the city to see you.

E = Experience 

Tim knows what he’s doing, but he hasn’t been with that many people. He’s mostly learned and adapted to what you like rather than base what he knows off of his past. It’s more important to specialize in exactly what feels good for you rather than what he assumes you like. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Tim’s favourite is the face off (idk what it’s actually called sorry) When he’s sitting up and you’re riding his cock. He loves this because he get’s to have that closeness to you and it’s more sensual. It’s a versatile position - the bed, his office chair, the batcave chair, the training mat - His office chair.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.

Depends on the location. In his room? Tim will crack a joke here and there just to keep you entertained. In his office though, boy oh boy is he completely different. Tim’s already got his big boss attitude from his long day’s work and he definitely keeps it up with you. Bossy Tim is a whole new level of hot. 

H = Harmony (do they like music in the background?)

If he’s in his room, he’ll put some music on in the background. Nothing with lyrics, just instrumentals. Never too loud either, he wants to hear you more than he wants to hear the music. However, if any of his brother’s are staying in the same house as him, he always turns the music up loud enough to drown out your sounds. No way is he letting his brother’s know just how hot you sound when he’s fucking you.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Tim’s pretty romantic. He doesn’t want to fuck you like you’re some kind of whore (but enjoys it on the occasion). He’d rather praise you and enjoy how close the two of you are.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Since dating you, Tim doesn’t jack off very often. He only ever does if you’re apart and you ask him for a video of him. Just because Tim doesn’t feel the need to masturbate while he’s away doesn’t mean the same for you. You’re begging him through text and telling him how much you miss his cock in you. Tim makes sure he’s extra vocal as he’s thinking about you sucking him off rather than only having his hand.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Tim likes some light bondage. He loves when your hands are tied up and you can’t aid to your own pleasure (even though he does a good enough job on his own). Nothing too crazy. He hates when you do it to him though, Tim needs to have his hands on you at all times.

Orgasm control. He doesn’t pull this very often but he’ll make you wait to cum. If you cum without him saying, he’ll go through it again and again until you get it right.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Like I said in my previous post, he’ll fuck you in his office. It might not be the most comfortable place, but there’s no better feeling that having you bent over his desk while he’s pounding into you. He sound proofed his office just so you didn’t have to hold back your moans.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Tim see’s you in lingerie and he’s done for. He think’s it’s unbelievably sexy and he won’t waste a second to fuck you without taking it off. The worst is when you send him a picture of you in it while he’s at work. Half the time he leaves the building just to show you how hard you make him.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Tim hates the idea of cuckholding. Literally the idea of another man fucking you while he just watches is his worst nightmare. He’s the only one allowed to bring you pleasure. Tim wouldn’t be opposed to a threesome though

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers to receive. Tim loves getting head from you. However, he also loves when you sit on his face too and boy is he good at it. Tim’s learned just the right combo of licking and sucking. You put a kink in his neck one time from it and Bruce questioned what had happened. Thank god he was a great liar.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Tim’s more slow and hard. He doesn’t want to rush things with you but he wants to slam his hips so hard that you’re seeing spots. He’s more about getting as deep as he can rather than as fast as he can.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’s not a huge fan. Tim likes to prolong fucking you when he can, so when you guys are rushed, he knows that he’s not doing his best performance. He’ll do them when need be but it’s not his ideal time.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Look all I’m saying is that Tim would, has, and will fuck you in his WE office. It’s his company and he can do as he pleases in his building.

Tim has his classic positions that he preferences but he is willing to try new things if you bring it up.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Tim can go a lot of rounds, like a lot. However, he doesn’t last particularly long. He loves being inside you, and the pleasure of it all is sometimes just too much for him to handle. He never quits until you’re tired though - he could go all night if you wished. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Tim doesn’t own toys for himself but he bought some for you. He encourages you to use them when he’s away on missions and he nearly cums in his pants when you send a lengthy video of you using them. He uses them in bed occasionally too if he’s on the mood to over stimulate.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He teases you just enough to get frustrated. Tim knows your limits better than anyone else, he knows when you’re on the edge of cumming and he knows exactly when to stop. He’ll deny your orgasm but if he does it more than once then he’ll make it up to you for the rest of the night.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not that loud. Tim will express how he’s feeling rather than making noises. He’s king of dirty talk which came out of nowhere with how awkward he can be. Tim constantly praises you for what you do and you know if you get a long moan out of him then you’re doing one hell of a good job.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

As CEO of WE, he had important business dinners he attended to and most times you went with him.  Tim was feeling ridiculously bold one night. You guys saw side by side and not even ten minutes into the night he was slipping his hand between your thighs and teasing you through your underwear. It was the first time that you had worn a short dress to the dinner meeting and you regretted it. Tim never brought you close enough to an orgasm but the endless teasing all night had led to the most intense sex you ever had with him.

X = X-marks the spot (where’s their favourite place to give/receive hickies)

Tim loves to leave them all over his chest. He knows they’re there, but no one else does. He only wants you and him to see the marks he leaves on you. As much as you like leaving them where everyone can see, he’s got a multi-billion dollar company to run and people already see him as childish they don’t need another excuse. You settle for right where the edge of his suit would be, sometimes they just barely peak out.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Tim can fuck as much as he wants. He’s not constantly horny, but if you’re in the mood then he’s not gonna deny it. Tim’s sex drive isn’t intense, but he can’t go over a week without you either, he’ll go crazy.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Depends. Tim’s used to being awake for a while so if he needs to stay up afterwards he can. However, he loves falling asleep with you in his arms right afterwards if he can Cockwarming maybe.