#until it's closer to fully baked at least. which will be...a while.

[higherhell]

Further assorted self portraits (3, 22 - 6, 3, 2024 - Clip Studio Paint)

[elisela]

an introvert's guide to falling in love on thanksgiving derek x stiles, g, fluff, thanksgiving, 1.6k for @nerdy-stilinski ... just barely getting this up in time haha

.

It’s not that Derek doesn’t like being charitable; it’s that Derek doesn’t like people. What he does like is cooking, which is why, every Thanksgiving morning since high school, he’s found a reason to make himself useful in the kitchen and just …. not leave.

All day. 

Slowly, throughout college and grad school, he was put in charge of more and more of the meal, until the only thing he wasn’t responsible for was the appetizers his mother set out early and kept refreshing throughout the day. He has his timeline down to a science at this point, though the menu has evolved over the years to keep up with the guests his mother invites and the new additions always necessitate some last-minute juggling. He starts with the soups a full week in advance; butternut squash and split pea, made in huge proportions and kept frozen until the night before. Same with the gravy, though he’ll add in drippings for extra flavor just before it’s served. He preps the casseroles the day before and lets them sit until the morning, bakes at least half a dozen pies, and usually goes to bed the night before already exhausted for what’s to come.

But as tiring as it all is, he’ll gladly do it when the alternative is mixing with a bunch of college students he doesn’t know, all of whom don’t have another place to go for the holidays. The kitchen, at least, is his refuge.

A refuge that’s invaded far too quickly the next morning.

He hears the humming first; he’s been able to tune out most of the conversations since he was a teenager, though the more repetitive and annoying noises tend to break through occasionally. And while the humming is definitely repetitive, it doesn’t alarm him until it gets closer, closer, and abruptly turns into a low whistle at the threshold of the kitchen. 

Derek grits his teeth and reminds himself that while charity is important to his mother, genuine kindness is more so, and she won’t hesitate to voice any disappointment.

“Does the cooking or the clean-up take longer?” a voice asks, followed shortly by footsteps.

“Not sure,” Derek says, wincing when the potato peeler slips and cuts into his finger. He flips the water on with his wrist, hopefully hiding the blood from sight until his skin knits itself back together seconds later. “My sisters are in charge of cleaning.”

There’s laughter from behind him, and the sound of the wooden spoon he’d been using to brown the butter as it clinks against the pot. “So it doesn’t matter much to you is what I’m getting out of that.”

Derek feels his lips quirk up, despite his reluctance to have his space invaded. “If there’s a single clean dish in this kitchen at the end of the day I’ve failed.” This time, when he hears laughter, he turns around to look at the source of it and almost immediately wishes he hadn’t. If there’s anything that makes Derek a little weak in the knees, it’s pale skin and big, dark eyes, and he looks away before he can take the man in fully and find even more appealing details.

“Need any help getting dirtying them up?” the guy asks. Derek’s about to decline—politely, of course, or God help him if his mother overhears—but then he adds, “Because to be honest it’s kind of awkward being out there, I’m pretty sure everyone knows each other? There are groups, at least, and I was supposed to come with my buddy because we decided it was a Christmas-only trip home this year, only his girlfriend invited him to Tahoe literally this morning and he didn’t tell me until I got here and it also felt awkward to leave, so …”

Derek starts peeling the potatoes again and tells himself to stay strong, but he can feel his resolve crumbling. “I don’t really need much help,” he says; a weak protest, but still true. He does so much of the prep ahead of time that it’s really just managing the timing of it all. The disappointment that radiates from the man is so palpable that Derek caves almost immediately. “But you can cube the potatoes, if you’d like.”

“Yeah, anything,” he hears, and then, “I’m Stiles, by the way.”

Stiles … doesn’t shut up. He talks as he cuts the potatoes in a way that makes Derek think he’s going to lose a finger by the end of the night, an abbreviated life story that gives just enough details to get Derek interested in hearing more. But for every small fact about himself he gives out he asks at least three questions of Derek, everything from his middle name to the first flavor of ice cream he’d ever considered his favorite, and Derek finds himself talking much more than he does to anyone he’s ever met. He doesn’t even realize he’s answering the questions until suddenly they’re knee-deep in an argument over the relative merits of the Wildcat formation and he realizes he’s ignored the timer on the oven going off for a solid two minutes while he details his very short college football career.

“So how’d you get stuck with all the cooking?” Stiles asks hours later, just as Derek’s pulling the turkey out of the oven to rest. He’s holding a casserole dish in his hands and although his body is still, he also seems to be vibrating with energy. “I’m just assuming this isn’t the first time because you seem to have everything under control, whereas I would have probably burned the turkey to get it to cook faster and forgotten like, the rolls or something.”

Derek pauses, still holding on to the roasting pan with both hands. The words send a jolt of adrenaline through him—not the good type, not the type that comes with elation or something equally serotonin-boosting—but dread, and a mild sense of panic.

He couldn’t have forgotten the rolls. He gets the frozen type, bags and bags of them, because once they defrost and rise they only take a few minutes to bake. It’s the last thing he does every year; he takes the casseroles out of the oven and puts four cookie sheets worth of rolls in, and by the time they’re done everything else is on the table. 

“I forgot the rolls,” he says, letting go of the roasting pan and twisting to look at the island, where the shelf he typically keeps the cookie sheets on is depressingly empty. His heart feels like it’s sinking, even though he knows at the same time that there’s plenty of food and it’s not such a big deal. “I forgot to take them out.”

The oven door closes, pulling him out of his head, and Stiles taps at the buttons to set the timer. “I can grab them. Where are they?”

“In the freezer,” Derek says, probably too short, because Stiles raises an eyebrow in response. “Fuck, I never took them out. They take hours to rise, it’s too late. Shit.” 

“So we go without,” Stiles says, shrugging. “If anyone complains, kick them out.” 

He can’t keep himself from frowning. It’s such a simple, little thing, and he tends to get stuck on those at times and the unsettled feeling in his chest can stick around for hours. But then Stiles moves into his line of sight and reaches out, hand closing around his shoulder. “You’re cute when you’re upset,” he says, and grins even though a faint blush appears on his cheeks. “It’s not rolls, but I can make biscuits pretty quick if you’ve got flour and extra butter.”

Some of the pressure lifts off his chest. “Flour’s in the pantry,” he says, and Stiles nods once and turns around, further discussion not needed. Derek still needs to assemble the salads, but he takes a moment to find a clean mixing bowl and the pastry cutter so Stiles can get to work. It takes longer than the rolls would have, but everything is still hot when they come out of the oven, and he can’t even bring himself to care that his sisters will definitely make fun of him for messing up when Stiles breaks off a piece of a biscuit and holds it out for Derek to try.

They’re simple, but good—but even better is the way that Stiles kisses him back when Derek pulls him in, a little overwhelmed by the way the day turned out so differently than he had expected, but grateful.

“Thanks for that,” he says, quietly, when they part, gesturing to the basket Stiles had just piled all the biscuits into. “And everything else.”

“Thanks for letting me hide in here all day,” Stiles says with a grin. “Do you have to stick around for a while after dinner, or can I convince you to get late-night ice cream with me?”

“I could be convinced,” Derek says, picking up the last of the casserole dishes to bring to the table, “but I could also just forget to bring out that cherry pie you’ve been looking at all day and we could keep hiding.”

“Hiding’s good,” Stiles says quickly. “Hiding is great, let’s do that. Just not in here where I assume your sisters will be cursing our names as they clean, so—my place isn’t that far, if you wanna just … hide there. Instead. With the pie. You know, we could always get ice cream to go with the pie, that’s probably the best decision. Do people do a la mode with cherry pie?”

Derek shakes his head and grins, and uses his elbow to urge Stiles in front of him; they’ve only known each other a few hours, but he knows well how easily he can get distracted. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s go get this over with and we can find out.”

[tveitertotwrites]

What is your favorite childhood memory?

What is your least favorite childhood memory?

What do you think had the biggest impact on you growing up?

What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do?

You’re given an unlimited budget to build anything you want!  What do you build and where do you build it?

Hey! Thanks for the questions! You can't really tell this that much based on the way I answered these, but all of my MC's/OC's are in the same room together doing this interview. The questions are from this ask!

3). What is your favorite childhood memory?

Brooklyn: "My favorite childhood memory is when my siblings (Elizabeth and Parker) and I would do a talent show with our cousins. We each did something different for our own separate sections, I usually did a song or a dance I had been learning for a competition. And since a lot of us were involved in dance and theater due to out parents, at the end we did a big cheesy dance number. It was always very fun and lighthearted and brought all of us closer together."

Claire: "My favorite childhood memory is when my grandmother and I would bake together. It was always so relaxing and it was something that I could do with someone who thought I was important at a time where home was not great."

Adelaide: "My favorite childhood memory is when my twin brother, Atlas, and I shared a room. We were little and while out parents always tried to make sure it was clean, we would always mess it up within like an hour after it was fully cleaned because we would make a big fort or something. It reminds me of when we were closer, not saying that we aren't close now, but there are times where I wish Atlas and I could be little again and making blanket forts and not having to care about the things that we thought was so far away at that time like paying rent and whatever else we didn't have to think about."

Charlie: "My favorite childhood memory is growing up with my siblings and doing the same sports as them. When I was a freshman, my older sister Athena was a senior and my older sister Summer was a junior and we were on the same volleyball team which was fun because I got to play alongside them and cheer them on during their senior nights. I also was on our school's co-ed swim team which I did with my younger brothers, Aaron and Sage, which was also fun because they were very supportive and I felt very proud of them, especially when they did well. Plus, I am the only one in our family to do a school activity with all of my siblings, so I feel like I won a competition or something."

4). Least favorite childhood memory?

Brooklyn: "My least favorite childhood memory was when my dog, Daisy who was a Yorkshire Terrier was ran over by a car. We had just gotten home and were sending out the dogs one at a time because if all 3 of the dogs we had at the time went outside together, it would be too much chaos and we were trying to get our oldest dog, Miley, outside and Daisy just bolted out the door and into the road and she was ran over by a car. She survived thankfully but she did have to have surgery and some casts for a little while but she made it through for a few more years."

Claire: "My least favorite memory is when my grandmother passed away when I was 12. For about a year or so prior to her death, she had been switching back and forth between the hospital and the nursing home due to some complications. And then about a year of hopping between the two, she said, or more likely wrote because she couldn't speak very well in her last couple of months, she had enough and wanted to stay at the nursing home until she passed, which was hard to hear at 11/12 because she is the one who said it and while I don't blame her or anything, it was hard knowing that she did as much as she could and it still wasn't enough."

Adelaide: "My least favorite childhood memory is when my older brother Rowan went off to college. At that time, Atlas and I were only like 7 years old and we had like no perception of time, so what we thought was that he was going to be gone forever but reality it was only a month or two at a time because of breaks and stuff. We also were all very close even though Atlas and I were 11 years younger than Rowan."

Charlie: "My least favorite childhood memory is when I broke both bones in my lower right arm. I was 8 and playing on a swing set when no one was around me at the time and I wanted to stop, so I went to go put my feet on the ground to stop myself. And where the little play set with the swings was placed, it was dirt underneath but there were roots of a nearby tree that kind of stuck out of the ground and my feet got caught by it and I fell and used my arm to break my fall and ended up breaking both of the bones in my lower arm. Which wasn't fun because it was near the start of winter and it was my dominant arm so i couldn't use it and at school when we would do assignments I had to have my teachers write for me."

8). What do you think had the biggest impact on you growing up?

Brooklyn: "Probably seeing my family doing theater and dance. They're the reason why I do what I do and I can't thank them enough. I always try to invite them to any event I can and show them appreciation for what they did for me and how I have the privilege to be as successful as I am because of their help."

Claire: "I think what had the biggest impact on me growing up was the favoritism of my younger sister. While I did have my own activities and things like that, I definitely felt my parents always being at everything for my sister. Like if I had something coming up, my parents would 99 percent of the time either had something to do with my sister or would say that they had something with my sister and would go do something else."

Adelaide: "What had the biggest impact on me growing up was growing up with two brothers. Having two brothers was interesting because I was told that doing things for me was vastly different from my two brothers even though I was the same age as one of them. It wasn't a bad thing in my opinion just interesting."

Charlie: "What had a big impact on me growing up was probably being the middle child. I felt like there were times that I was seen as too young or too old to hang out with my siblings at times and since there was 5 of us I felt like everyone had a partner except for me. But I didn't feel like that all the time because of sports and school activities which I am thankful for."

6). What is the hardest thing you have had to do?

Brooklyn: "Probably standing up for myself against people within the industry even though it is very hard. There a lot about the industry that is hidden and comes to light later down the road and it can be scary for anyone, especially those who don't have much power or respect. Trying to make it in the industry, no matter which side, is hard enough for the people who don't already have a way in and then having the added barrier of people only giving you jobs if you sexually satisfy them or satisfy them in a similar way is really frustrating for people who want to come into the industry."

Claire: "The hardest thing I have had to do is the chemical attack. It was during a time when I didn't believe in myself, and there were things going on in my personal life at the time. It was hard knowing what was going on and what people would be going through, such as the families of Bobby and Danny who had died due to what had happened. Knowing that I was partially to blame for it still haunts me to this day, but I am grateful to be around people who support me and care for me after everything."

Adelaide: "The hardest thing I had to do was probably go to med school. It was the first time where I had been away from my family for a while, especially Atlas. He had been going to school on the West Coast while I went to school on the east coast. Undergrad was the hardest as at least with Med School, my best friend Claire (Evans) and I were on the same campus and shared a dorm for our time there and we also went to hospitals within the same area so that part wasn't difficult. Undergrad, I was by myself and knew absolutely no one."

Charlie: "The hardest thing was probably losing my grandparents at a young age. My maternal grandpa and paternal grandma both died due to cancer when I was little and then my paternal grandpa had died prior to my birth. My maternal grandma was also sick during my senior year and died only two months before my graduation which was hard."

13). You have an unlimited budget to build anything you want! What do you build and where do you build it?

Brooklyn: "Well if you asked me when I was little then I probably would have said little dog houses all over the world. But now I would probably say either a theater in my hometown or a women's shelter."

Claire: "Umm... Selfishly I would say another location of my hometown's coffee shop and put it here in Boston. But also free period products, birth control, and help line information for different needs in stations all over the country."

Adelaide: "Yeah. I would also say resource stations around the country. But also I would love to have the view I had in Greece from my room here in Boston but at that point I should just move to Greece instead, it would be a lot cheaper."

Charlie: "I would probably build free donation buildings for good condition clothes. People could donate their clothes that were in good condition and look through other clothes and they could be free."

Any other questions?

[tartagliaxx]

。A LITTLE MORE THAN A… ‘PRESSING CONCERN’

━━ INCLUDES: albedo, kaeya, tartaglia, thoma

━━ SUMMARY: it doesn't matter what everyone else says. heaven on earth exists and it's when the space between you two grows so scarce that even your heartbeats bleed together.

━━ CONTAINS: established relationships, suggestive themes, innuendos, my horrible attempts at flirtation

。 ALBEDO — “ princeps cretaceus | chalk prince ”

though perhaps obtuse when it comes to love and feelings and whatnot, albedo, at least, has an idea about certain actions that were meant to make a significant other's heart flutter.

he understands the 'why' and the 'how' of most of them. hugs can indicate support and affection when words cannot and as do kisses. this term, however, that he saw once in passing at the illustrated novel that amber was reading was one he can never fully decipher.

how is pressing someone against a wall romantic in any sense? this... odd show of dominance and aggression doesn't seem to sound very pleasing to him. if anything, he finds the act to be quite brutish and unnecessarily rude.

albedo was sure that he'd never do such a thing to you as respect and other gentlemanly aspects seemed to be ingrained in his being. his downfall, however, was the same curiosity that introduced him to the subject.

he meant it when he said he wants to uncover all that you have been hiding. your quirks, your flaws, your natural tendencies — your reactions. still, it's not something he'd do all too often, regardless of how pleased he was with his experiment's results.

the kreideprinz was hardly someone who'd justify his actions with half-baked excuses but this time, you had it coming.

being his lab assistant during the day meant that you were constantly by his side when he busied himself with experiments that carried its fair share of dangers. he had reminded you multiple times before to always be alert and yet here you were, dozing off into your land of daydreams as you held a glass vial over the burner. granted, this substance, in particular, wasn't dangerous but what if it was? albedo subconsciously pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation — the sinking feeling in his gut settling despite being one of the emotions he desperately avoided as he found it to be undesirable. worry was something that he hadn't been used to feeling as the genius was always prepared for all the different ways a situation can unfurl. his backup plans never stopped at 'b' and you were right to look up to him for that.

an out-of-character smile slides on his lips before it was gone and as was the small twitch in his fingers. though he was concerned over your lack of environmental awareness, albedo couldn't help but find the situation to be a brilliant opportunity to conduct a particular... experiment that only you could help with. it was never his intention to do this but after a few calls of your name (upon which he received no reply), he thought that a little lesson was in order.

carefully, he steps around his table, keeping his footsteps light as he approached you even though he was certain that you didn't notice his irregular movement. it happened all too fast for anyone to register what was happening but most especially for you who was abruptly snapped out of your daze. in one fell swoop, the amused alchemist grips your wrist; pulling it closer to him just in case you accidentally flinch and pour the boiling contents while simultaneously pushing his body close to yours. instinctively, you took a step back and he followed, again and again until you were staring at him with wide, confused eyes as your back hits one of the many bookshelves in his home office.

"a-albedo? is um... is something wrong?" a nervous chuckle slips out of your lips as you shift your weight from one foot to the other when you found no means of escape from his undiverted attention.

with you being so close, the tell-tale signs of your shyness were hard to miss and albedo couldn't help the sudden racing of his heart. you were truly a sight of wonder and it fills him with a strange, sense of pride to know that he was the one who was eliciting such straightforward responses from your body. slowly, the hand that was laid firmly beside your head dropped to cup your cheek. the hitch in your breath was unmistakable as he gently draws a stripe over your cheekbones. knowing albedo and his freakish observation skills, he'd long noticed the goosebumps that trailed over your arms and your shifty eyes much to your further embarrassment. you were right of course. he noticed and to be fair, he notices almost everything about you — the proof of which being the low rumble in his chest as he surprisingly delights in the flustered state you were stuck in.

"nothing's wrong. in fact, i'd say that everything is going perfectly well," the innocent smile he wore contrasted the brief flash of mischief in his eyes, "would you mind keeping still? it's vital for myself to carefully observe the results of my experiment."

you nodded in reply albeit squirming as a sudden heat falls on your cheeks and ears and in actuality, nearly every inch of your skin exposed for his eyes to explore. he gives you a stern look as a warning and the small squeak of 'sorry' was involuntary. you don't know how long he held you like that but he eventually steps back with a pleased nod. suddenly, you could breathe again and you were mortified to know that you wished you couldn't. you'd much rather inhale the comforting scent of pinewood and ethanol into your lungs until you suffocated in the pleasant feel of him.

"you're dozing off again," the amused twinkle in his eyes was more prominent this time.

"sorry i—" you awkwardly cleared your throat as you discreetly adjusted your disheveled clothing, "how did your... experiment go?"

"hm? oh yes... it went well. i arrived at a satisfying conclusion."

you blinked, curiosity piqued at the sincere glow of his skin, "that is?"

"this... thing you call a kabedon isn't without its charms. i appreciate the opportunity to hold you at such close proximity and it makes admiring you much easier.."

you felt your entire body tensing at the 'as-a-matter-of-fact' tone he used and gods... albedo just might send you to an early grave. now free from his hold, you could lift your hands to cover your flushed face and, to his pleasure, giddy smile. you knew that he probably wasn't flirting with you — merely curious and factual as always but the happy hum of your heart didn't pay that much heed. the last thing you expected to hear from him was his chuckle but that was what you received and you abruptly looked up when you saw his shadow hovering over you again. like before, he barely gave you time to react before the familiar touch of his lips grazes against yours fondly and admirably gentle for your blanking mind.

"wh—" albedo pulls away to watch you sputter something that didn't make sense. rest assured, however, as your sentiments reached him well enough if the lively flap of the wings of a hummingbird that has nested in his heart ever since he first laid his eyes was anything to go by. he lets himself enjoy the view of your lovely visage for a second longer before he was padding back to his table with a nonchalance that you wouldn't expect on someone who just sent their significant other into a swooning madness.

"well then, shall we resume our research? pay attention this time around."

。 KAEYA — “ pavo ocellus | peacock eye ”

perhaps the complete opposite of the chief alchemist, kaeya lives for when he gets under someone's skin. the small stutters, eyes that couldn't return his sultry gaze — all the tell-tale signs of being flustered all go straight to stroking his ego.

the lack of exclusivity used to mean that more than half of the population were victims of his low-key flirtations. however, now that he was happily in a relationship, all that attention was given to his significant other, for better or for worse.

kabedons with kaeya happen less than you'd expect it would but it is still a regular occurrence. rather than pushing you against the wall, he much prefers to pull your body against his chest, lips muttering something in-between sweet and teasing before he nuzzles into your neck. the smirk he dons is palpable and you feel each curve of it against your skin.

when he does do it though, they almost always end up with both of your lips swollen with a distinct sheen and your clothes rumpled eerily close to being indecent. the cavalry captain is slick and the only time you'd catch him acting this aggressively without underlying concern for his carefully crafted persona is when he's feeling needy.

kaeya was clearly the more smitten one in your relationship, you thought with a chuckle as you feel his breath against the delicate skin of your neck. you had half the mind to tell him off as his hair tickled more than what you could stand but knowing him, he'll only nuzzle further into you, purposely displacing his annoyingly soft hair to force a giggle out of your form. he's surprisingly childish like that and you both simultaneously adored this side that he only shows to you and hated the way he seemed to thrive whenever he manages to pull out a reaction from you. who could fault you, however, for responding so eagerly when this perfectly crafted man was willingly giving his all to you?

"come now, play nice and give me your undivided attention."

"we're at work. have some professionalism, captain."

"captain?" he hadn't expected that but the dark chuckle that slips out of his lips was something so natural — primal if you dare say so yourself — and you knew that you had just dug your own grave, "my, i quite enjoy that coming out of your pretty lips. would you do me the honor of calling me that again?"

"oh bug off, kaeya. you're missing the big picture..."

the cavalry captain highly doubts he could miss something he's pointedly trying to avoid. doing paperwork for the knights was such a tiresome matter and he had come to regret agreeing to jean's request of taking her place while she joined the expedition team in checking out a rumored abyss order's base near mondstadt's doors. at the time of his agreement, he had assumed that he'd have all the time to fool around with you but you were, unfortunately, being uncooperative. expecting a shower of affection from your end when you entered his office, he was instead met with a pile of even more paperwork. he was never that dramatic but he was truly finding this situation to be absurd — even more when you moved to leave when you hadn't even spared him a single glance.

perhaps you wouldn't be stuck in this predicament if you had only given him what he had asked for though you can't say that this was entirely unenjoyable either.

"haha, loosen up. if there was anything urgent, there'd be a knight barging through the doors uninvited."

you shook your head in defeat, much to kaeya's amusement who only pulled you closer to his chest so you wouldn't dare run away, "i really ought to send amber after your head."

"your cruelty knows no bounds... she's still mad about me missing last week's meeting. she might actually see it through this time."

"uhuh and whose fault is that?"

he pauses before a mischievous grin makes his demeanor look the slightest bit sinister. if you weren't going to play along well... that shouldn't mean he shouldn't have his share of fun anymore. the small idea that popped in his head was an idea he was sure you weren't going to be against — that is, if he does his job well enough which he can assure you, in this subject, kaeya alberich would never fail.

"yours," kaeya suddenly twirls you to face him and with steady ease, pushes you against the door of the grandmaster's office. ah, how scandalous... the thought only spurs kaeya, "why are you so irresistible, hm? you're going to end up killing me, darling."

and when he says things like that, how can you pretend to be unbothered when you were anything but that? your first instinct was to put some space in between you two. maybe then he wouldn't hear the thundering sound of your heart that deafens you with each deep pulse. you didn't know why you try, tilting your head back while weakly (because a part of you thoroughly loved the lack of distance between you and your lover) pawing at his chest when you knew full well that absolutely nothing can deter the man when he wants something nor can you move his wonderfully built body even if you actually tried. your next feeble attempt at looking unaffected which, upon further thought, only displayed the full extent of your flustered state for him to feast on, was to avert your eyes. kaeya's eyes — eyes — were always beautiful but whenever he was being like this, they become a shade deeper, highlighting the million and one stars that sparkle against the heat of his gaze.

wow... you're really in love with this beautiful man, weren't you? your fingers feel electrified as the intensity of the situation settles in your bloodstream, charging it with a magnificent ardor and desire that fuelled your excitement. you knew exactly how this would unfold and though it has happened far too many times to count, a part of you still feels like this was the first time, and truthfully, you doubt that part of you will ever die. nothing beats this — beats him.

"oh? you're awfully flustered when all i did was press my body against yours... are you implying that you want to kiss me, sweetheart?"

a breathy laugh exits you — an unspoken affirmation — and the small click of the lock was unmistakable right before he slots his lips in between yours.

。 TARTAGLIA — “ monoceros caeli | narwhal sky ”

the young harbinger loved the sensations that came with being touched. he delights in the feeling of a fist coming into contact with his face; lives for the little cheek taps that his mother gives him as thanks whenever he helps cut down pieces of firewood. more importantly, he adores the feeling of your hand slotted in his as he brings his face close until you were but a breath apart.

he's playful and young and so full of lovely energy that you best expect that being pressed against the wall is a norm in your relationship. the feeling of your chests pressed together sends him to a high he couldn't get down from and to be frank, it wasn't a feeling he wanted to escape from in the first place.

however, it doesn't happen too much in public — contrary to popular belief. he has his own possessive tendencies and the vulnerability of the situation; the way your lips would part in surprise as your eyes dilate in sloppily hidden excitement... those are things he'd much rather keep for his eyes only.

kadedons with tartaglia are rarely more than a childish attempt at making your heart flutter but sometimes, they were also expressions of adoration and vulnerability on his part.

the truth was, tartaglia was a nuisance and even more so in the privacy of your shared home. it was as if all the pent-up youthfulness in his body explodes at the mere sight of your unassuming form. sure, you love him. you love the stupid little smile he wears whenever he randomly challenges you in a tickle fight and the dopey look on his eyes as you laugh and in between deep breaths, demand that he let you go from his firm hold (as if he'll ever do that). you love the guttural laughter that spills out of him whenever you accidentally stub your toe on your dining table and you, unfortunately, love the way he walks over and pulls you in a hug as he asks you if it hurts just as much.

you love him so much that you let him do whatever he wants even if it costs you your pride and dignity eight times out of ten because you knew that childe, eleventh of the fatui harbingers, never smiles and laughs the same way he does when he's alone with you in the cozy home you crafted together. when he was at home, he's ajax and ajax was young and reckless and clumsy and incapable of distributing his energy properly but he's not all too bad because he grins madly with just the faintest bit of light in his eyes once more whenever you forcibly sit him down on the toilet seat as you cover his recent cut with a cartoon bandaid that was, according to his blatant lie, a gift for teucer.

maybe that's why you didn't do anything but sigh with an equally lovestruck smile as you felt his arms wrap around your waist from behind, his curious eyes peering over your shoulder as he watches you bring the knife up and down the chopping board, "whatcha cooking?"

"secret~"

the teasing lilt of your voice pulled a small giggle from him because he knew. he knew you were cooking his favorite and he was once again reminded of the fact that he was very much deeply in love with you that it hurts to even imagine his life before you were with him every step of the way. the sudden urge to kiss you senseless comes to him tenfold but he waits. he waits until you drop the knife, until you cover the pots and pans, and until he was sure that you were free to steal away while you wait for the food to cook.

tartaglia calls your name and you hum, eyes moving to find his only to find your back pressed against the wall that was separating the kitchen and the living room. he's close — too close — and you could almost feel the pleasant thrum of his thoughts from how close you were. the idea sends a flurry of heat towards your cheeks and unknowingly, a small whimper slips out of you much to his delight. neither of you knew it was possible but the cheeky grin on his face intensified greatly and you would've cursed him out if not for your mind preoccupied with counting the tiny freckles that littered his skin like a work of art.

he calls your name again and this time you didn't respond. not like he took offense, if anything, it only fuelled him on — the oxytocin in his bloodstream bordering 'too much.' it was nice to know that you were just as enamored with him as he was with you. he's far too gone, you see, and he didn't know what he would do if he found out that the intensity of his emotions wasn't reciprocated by the one he gives his all to.

"you love me, don't you?" that snaps you back to reality and you roll your eyes, ignoring the flustered feeling you got at hearing the truth spelled out just like that.

"someone's being presumptuous..."

tartaglia's lips twist into a faux pout, batting his eyelashes that to your disdain, caught your attention and grappled at it without any intention of letting go anytime soon, "at least tell me that when you're not staring at me hungrily. makes you just a little bit more believable"

"wow," you drawl as you pull back, hands moving to cover your face but unable to stop yourself from taking one last glance at his appealing lips, "how about you tell me that when the sentiments aren't oh so obviously returned?"

"wait! don't hide from me just yet... i want to savor this moment just a little bit more..."

one of his hands retreats from the side of your head to pull at your wrists to which you obliged. when he was sure you weren't going to be hiding away from him anytime soon, tartaglia's grin grows — this time, muddied by the more intimate desires that he also hides away from public scrutiny — and uses the same hand to softly grip your chin so you were looking at him and nothing but him. you've known him to have beautiful eyes, even when they were seeking something animalistic in a fight and even when he knew you only as an acquaintance of the traveler. it was a small world, an incredibly small world that kept on bringing you together during the best of times that ultimately allowed you to see the side of him that wasn't just bloodthirsty and battle-hungry.

his eyes were like precious stones gathered from the deepest parts of the chasm first before it became the vast, deep ocean that you'd gladly drown in. they were hell first before it became the heaven you aspire to reside in forever. they were interested in anything and everything first before they finally landed on yours. when it did, they tell you a story of a boy whose wild imagination lead him to grow up too quickly; only finding the last shard of innocence whenever he's staring deep into the warm eyes of someone he'd come to associate to the world — the same exact world that he wishes to conquer although this time, he's quite certain that he'd do it slowly, tenderly, beautifully. this time there is no bloody battle to be won; just a small push and pull between the two parties involved that revolves around the topic "who loves who more?"

"you love me," he says without any room for argument this time.

without warning, his lips land on the juncture of your shoulder and your neck before they land on the crown of your head, then on the tip of your nose, and finally, to where it needed to be. you feel the softer version of his smile against your lips, pleased with your reply — an arduous reciprocation of his romantic action.

。 THOMA — “ rubeum scutum | red shield "

the chief retainer of the kamisato household was someone who dons a gentle soul. sure, he can be fiercely protective when pushed to the edge but to the ones who truly know him, thoma has always been a person who is half a wind blow away from collapsing into a flustered heap of mess — this one even more applicable to you, his beloved sunshine.

kabedons with thoma are impossible because, between the both of you, the embarrassment that comes from the reality of the situation was likely to smack him in the face. sure, your heart would race but you don't know if it was from his body close to yours in a seemingly domineering position or if it was from the shy flutter of his lashes as his lips trembled — flirtatious lines that were so kindly crafted by the kind miss ayaka (who secretly loved reading romantic light novels) forgotten at the back of his mind.

but who knows, maybe someone getting too close to you was enough to bring out the intensity of the fires dormant in his heart. when that day comes, be sure to relish the way his voice dips an octave lower, eyes dangerously dimming to show a sacramento green.

thoma thought he knew what love was.

he loves taking walks and feeding the strays and he loves accompanying the young lady of the kamisato clan whenever she had her own share of errands to do. he loved playing hotpot games and he most especially loved it when rice cake soup was used as the base. he loved cleaning houses and embroidering little designs on handkerchiefs that he always ends up giving away to the children he passes by. he loved many things in his relatively simple life as the chief retainer of one of the most influential households in inazuma and honestly speaking, who was surprised? thoma had a big heart that often came with blazing bright optimism and warm hugs. he's a simple man who dislikes conflict but is all too ready to be the first one to point his spear should things go awry so for him to assume that he knew love like the back of his hand was not entirely absurd. after all, how can you mistake something that you have so much to give?

it turns out that thoma didn't know love. he adores the strays and he likes keeping ayaka company. he enjoys hotpot games and his preference leans towards rice cake soups. he feels content whenever he's cleaning or giving things for absolutely no reason aside from making someone's day but he loved none of those things. rice cake soup doesn't make his eyes gloss over nor does it elicit a dreamy sigh. embroidery doesn't quite make his limbs jelly and he has never had to place a hand on his chest in a feeble attempt to slow his racing heart whenever he spots a sale during one of his many walks with his friend. he doesn't squeal or roll around his bed at night with a giddy grin whenever he remembers the disgusting taste of a mist flower's corolla in his soup but he does know that he does all of that and more whenever he recounts a memory that includes you. it didn't have to be an elaborate interaction because even a passing whiff of your perfume was enough reason for him to place himself on a timeout.

"you're doing it again," you playfully jabbed a finger to his side, lips turning upward despite the deep frown that was on it just a few seconds ago.

"ah—? what do you mean?"

"you know... that cheesy, lovesick look you give me..."

he painfully knew that he was far from being slick but being called out, by you of all people, sent a fresh wave of heat to his cheeks. sheepishly, thoma rubbed at his neck, hoping that the uncomfortable rouge that somehow managed to stain even that would go away, "i mean... it's kinda sweet, y'know? it's not every day that someone sticks up for me and while completely unnecessary, it still warms my heart."

memories of your recent encounter made your frown resurface as you angrily bit off the final piece of the dango thoma bought to placate you and your foul mood. the nerve of some people, really. your lover has been nothing but sweet and caring and helpful ever since he came to inazuma but they still dare to speak ill of him? how absurd! you had ought to teach that unreasonable merchant a lesson but your thoma being thoma, held you by the waist firmly and apologized — apologized! how unbelievable...

"hey, stop frowning..." a tender smile graces his lips as he absentmindedly brushed over your knuckles, "you know how i feel about comments like that. as long as it doesn't harm the kamisato clan, all's fine and peachy!"

"and you know how i feel about them! gosh, i swear... you should be more selfish sometimes. there's a very big difference between being impolite and defending yourself."

"i guess but... if we let these kinds of things sully our mood then who's really biting the shorter end of the stick? i mean, look at this lovely weather! it'll be a shame if we spent it all on a few meaningless comments, right? so how about it?"

a beat passes and your pout only intensifies because as much as you argue, you knew he was right. the defeated sigh that comes out of you only makes thoma beam as he playfully ruffled your hair with pride, "see? not so hard, right? i don't really let things like this get to me so whenever i overhear some, i can still focus on the things that actually matter like for example... our date!"

"alright, alright... thanks for the lesson on philosophy. now, where to next?"

he hums, gaze caught by a small stall that sold festival masks, "let's go there! we can buy some now while it's cheaper so we can go to the festival for our next date!"

"next date?" the teasing lilt of your voice made the housekeeper shake his head in subtle amusement, "we aren't even finished with this one and you're already thinking about the next...'

thoma only grins wider, tugging you closer to him so you were shoulder to shoulder, "what can i say? i'm always looking forward to our future."

"w-well, what are we waiting for?" the nervous laugh slips out of you easily and you pulled at his clothes to shimmy out of the subject that was making you unbelievably flustered.

"ah wait! you have something on your cheek. hold on, i'll get it for you."

what can you do but freeze as thoma suddenly leans closer, eyes narrowed in an intense show of focus that seemed displaced for such a measly act? whatever the case, the firm hand-laid beside your head was making it hard to think of anything but the fact that thoma was even more handsome when he was up-close and personal.

"you know... i never thought that you were somewhat a messy eater but i guess there's still a lot to learn about you. hang on for a sec, the stain's harder to remove than i expected... hm... aha! i got it," was he always this charming? the tiny victorious smile that made his complexion seem brighter made your heart do equally tiny dances and the urge to pull him into a kiss became almost unbearable, "is something wrong? you haven't spoken in—"

the words got caught in his throat as his eyes met yours. he didn't even recognize that he was already this close to you or that the reason for your slightly labored breathing was his chest pressed against yours. the thought had him reeling back into the same lovesick daze he found himself trapped in earlier and he immediately pulls away despite the loud complaints of his inner mind. it wasn't as if he wanted to because — oh, gods forgive him — if he had the choice, he'd never part from you. how could he when every little thing you do, from minuscule lip nibbling to exhausted little sighs, leave him feeling so positively winded? oh, he was in deep, he thinks as he attempts to laugh the situation off.

"uh, my bad i um... i kinda... yeah, i—" too busy looking at everywhere but your eyes, thoma missed the way your face morphed into the same lovesick look he donned because this man was easily the most endearing man you've ever met. seeing him so flustered comforted you a little but it didn't really help in easing your heart. if anything, the adorable expression he wore made it throb harder.

"it's fine... shall we hop back to our date?"

"right! i... just let me... do something real quick... please stay here. i-i won't take long!" a confused sound leaves you but ultimately, you shake your head with a content smile as he runs off before you could say anything. for his sake, you'll ignore the abnormally high pitch he spoke in and for both of your sakes, you'll pretend that you didn't hear him curse before melting down... positively of course.

[taytrashmouth]

Happy Christmas babe.

Eddie Munson x female Harrington reader

TW: tears, absent parents, loneliness.

You had been going out with Eddie for about 6 months and it had been amazing, he had noticed you had been quite down for a while but he couldn’t place why.

You both sat in the Munsons trailer cuddled up on the couch, arms and legs wrapped around each other as you watched a Christmas movie that had been on tv.

The credits began to roll and you sighed heavily. Eddie looked down at you, resting your head on his shoulder.

“What’s wrong n/n?” He asked.

You just shook your head. He lifted your head and adjusted his position and pulled you into his lap, facing him.

“You know you can tell me right?” Eddie asked.

“I know…it’s nothing Ed’s it’s really just that I’m not too fond of the Christmas season.” You explained.

He frowned. “Why not?”

“In case you haven’t noticed my parents are assholes of the highest order okay, Christmas for me and Steve is like a huge empty house, no decorations, nothing, our parents send us both a Cheque and a Christmas card with whatever beautiful vacation they’re on and that’s it.” You sighed, obviously a little sad about this fact.

“You’ve never tried to celebrate?” Eddie asked. He understood not celebrating fully but with him and Wayne there we’re always presents and they made an effort to at least put some lights up, and they would always eat a home-cooked meal (that was rare in the Munsons trailer.)

“I mean I always get Steve something and he gets me something that’s a given, once or twice he tried to put a tree up but it didn’t stand up right and it was a mess, which just reminded me that we don’t have a present father to put the tree up or whatever, we’ve baked Christmas cookies but it’s all just sad.” You rambled.

“I’m sorry.” Eddie half smiled and you leaned into his chest for a hug which he gladly returned.

It had Been a week since Eddie had found out about your Christmas’s and one day until Christmas.

Eddie had made a plan to give you Christmas, a real one. He was staying over at your place for Christmas eve.

“I’m gonna make Christmas cookies.” You frowned watching yet another sappy Christmas movie.

“Y/n they taste great- always, but you hate baking at Christmas, you always get frustrated and angry and maybe just-“ Steve paused when he saw your pouty face. “Fine.” He sighed.

Eddie smiled as you walked into the kitchen and began to bake.

“I still haven’t managed the art of getting her opinion to be wrong either.” Eddie joked and Steve smiled.

“Yeah, hate to break it to you but I’ve had 19 years of that.” He pointed to you in the kitchen, “you will never be right.” Steve confirmed and Eddie laughed, nodding.

“What time is Robin getting here?” Eddie whispered.

“She’s in the area, I’ll text her when n/n is asleep.” Steve answered in the same tone.

They stayed quiet watching the movie while you threw the dough on the counter trying to roll it out but the dough was tough and using your whole body weight wasn’t even helping.

You sighed loudly, letting go of the rolling pin.

“What’s wrong ?” Eddie called.

“Nothing.” You answered still grumpy about Christmas.

Steve sighed, knowing that was a lie as Eddie whispered ‘I got this one’ and walked over to you.

“What do I need to do?” He asked.

“Roll out the dough.” You looked up at him.

He stood behind you, and put his hands over yours on the rolling pin, his cold rings sending a chill through you as he helped you roll out the dough. He rested his chin on your head as the gingerbread scent was evident now that he was closer.

You smiled to yourself, feeling warm and fuzzy with Eddie so close to you. Suddenly you hated Christmas just the tiniest bit less.

Once the dough was rolled out, Eddie kissed you on the head and went and sat on the bar stool where Steve had moved. You began to use cookie cutters to cut out gingerbread people, stars, squares and trees.

“Steve just because you keep staring at me with puppy dog eyes does not mean I’m gonna give it to you.” You let out not even having to look up.

Steve groaned, throwing his head back like a child.

“Give you what?” Eddie asked.

“Leftover cookie dough.” Steve pointed to the bowl.

“I want cookie dough.” Eddie whispered. “Babe?” He called.

You looked up at the two boys, both were now pouting and staring at you and the bowl.

You shook your head. “Fine.” You slid the bowl across the counter and they high fived.

You liked that Steve and Eddie got along with each other, Steve can be protective and hadn’t always liked the people you liked.

After putting the cookies in the oven and talking to the boys for hours while sitting on the counter tops and then taking the cookies out of the oven to cool, eddie convinced you that you could decorate them in the morning and so you all went to bed.

“Merry Christmas Ed’s.” You whispered, almost half asleep, cuddled up to him under the sheets.

“Merry Christmas n/n” he smiled.

After he was sure you were asleep he slid out of your grasp and downstairs where Steve was already waiting.

“Robins on the way.” He confirmed.

The entire night, the three of them spent putting up a huge Christmas tree, decorating it with lights and baubles, putting up lights all around the living room, hanging stockings from the fireplace mantle and wrapping gifts.

The house was absolutely and completely Christmas themed.

By the time they were finished it was 6AM, they had all gone back to bed, Robin taking the spare room.

At around 8 you began to wake up. You groggily sat up and made your way downstairs, wanting to just eat cereal and watch some tv and pretend it was any other day.

As you walked downstairs your eyes we’re overwhelmed with red, white and green in every corner of the house.

You saw the lights on the tree and the stockings and you just froze at the bottom of the stairs.

“Babe.” Eddie slurred, half asleep as he noticed you weren’t in bed anymore.

He wobbled out of bed and downstairs, wiping sleep from his eye as he saw you at the bottom of the stairs.

“Y/n?” He asked, his voice raspy and tired. You don’t move and he walked in front of you, to see that there were tears in your eyes.

“You did this?” You asked.

“I mean if you don’t believe in Santa.” Eddie joked.

You smiled.

“I love you.” You began to cry and he brought you into a hug, melting at your words.

“I love you too.” He whispered into your ear.

You smiled.

Robin and Steve came down not long after, the morning was one of the best ones you’d ever had, it started with hot cocoa with marshmallows and the four of you decorated your cookies, Robin made one that was supposed to look like Steve but it was just a blob with a smiley face, Eddie tried to make a Metallica themed one but it also just looked like a blob while Steve stuck to traditional Christmas cookies.

You on the other hand spent your time perfecting a cookie to have the Metallica logo on it, with a Christmas hat on one of the letters, it actually looked really good and Eddie put it on the counter refusing to eat it.

Next you all exchanged gifts.

Steve got a Phoebe cates poster and some movies including back to the future, the shining and pretty on pink from Robin. You got Steve a fluffy yellow sweater and a can of Farrah faucet which caused about 10 minutes of laughing. And Eddie had even gotten Steve something, it was a mug that Eddie had painted himself, it said ‘worlds number one babysitter and in small letters at the bottom p.s thanks for letting me bang your sister.’ Which cause more laughing and a smack on the head from both you and Steve.

Robin had gotten 2 new books from Steve by Russian authors, she seemed pretty excited about it though. You had gotten her some black nail polish and a bunch of pins and patches for her bag and jacket. Eddie got robin a pair of combat boots which she adored.

You had received a sketchbook from Robin for your art, Steve had gotten you a necklace with your initials on it, Eddie had gotten you a mixtape with songs that reminded him of you, one of his hellfire shirts you were always trying to steal and a book you hadn’t shut up about since June.

Eddie had received a Metallica shirt from Steve, an AC/DC record from robin and from you he got a guitar pick that had the hellfire logo on one side and the corroded coffin logo on the other along with a new set of D&D dice.

You were all really happy with these gifts and and spent a while laughing and just talking under the tree.

Steve had put on Christmas music while he and Robin played go fish on the couch, Eddie grabbed your arm and led you to where the tree was, holding you close as you swayed and rocked to the Christmas music.

“This has been the best Christmas ever.” You told him, looking at his deep brown eyes.

“I’m glad.” He smiled.

You danced for a while, Eddie spinning you around once or twice but mostly just enjoying each others company.

After a while Eddie had picked up a small succulent from the coffee table and raised it above your head.

“What are you doing?” You laughed.

“Oh what’s that!? It’s mistletoe!” Eddie exclaimed, acting oblivious.

You smiled and shook your head.

“That’s a succulent.” You teased.

“Nope sorry, it’s mistletoe and you know what that means.” Eddie exclaimed.

“Idiot.” You smiled as you kissed him, grabbing his cheek and moving closer passionately before pulling away.

He smiled as your lips left his. “Happy Christmas babe.”

[absolutepokemontrash]

MC’s Date With the Side Characters is Going Terribly and Then it Starts to Rain

Brothers ver.

Diavolo

It was a tragic truth that the poor Crown Prince didn’t get to go out and have fun very often, but he had managed to get a singular day off! He of course was going to spend it with the future monarch-consort of the Devildom!

Diavolo had a whole list written out that was full of fun cliche date activities that he wanted to try, and it was also full of stuff MC said they wanted to do, so the date was going to be completely perfect.

As Diavolo and MC walked hand in hand to Madame Scream’s, they both took notice to the fact that literally every single demon in the vicinity was staring at the two of them.

The crown prince laughed it off, saying that MC looked so positively radiant that everyone couldn’t help but stop and look. MC laughed and leaned their head against Dia’s arm, but both of them knew full well that everyone was really staring at Diavolo.

To be fair, wouldn’t you stare if the most powerful person in the entire realm walked by holding hands with a pathetic little human?

They got to Madame Scream’s, got their sweets, then Diavolo got a phone call. It was Lucifer frantically explaining that the RAD gym was on fire and he needed to run everything by Diavolo before he could do anything about it.

That ate up about fifteen minutes and the desserts ended up getting cold… Diavolo tried to make light of it as the two finally got to eat their chocolate chip cookies.

“So apparently one student thought it would be a good idea to set a firework off inside, you know I encourage having fun at school but maybe they should have set this off outside.” “Maybe..?”

Next it was time for a romantic walk on the beach! That would have gone better if Diavolo remembered it was giant-crab season. As cool as it was to watch Diavolo hammer-throw an eight foot tall crab into the ocean it left MC’s ankles vulnerable to get pinched by regular sized crabs.

And maybe they both should have wore appropriate shoes… they were sinking into the sand and it was getting into their shoes…

Okay, so the beach didn’t work out, Diavolo had plenty of other ideas! They just had to- wait he was getting another call.

Half an hour later, Diavolo was finally able to hang up and gave MC an apologetic look. He said that he needed to cut the date short and go to an unavoidable meeting…

Oh well, at least this date couldn’t get any-

A loud crack of thunder caused Diavolo to nearly drop his phone in surprise. Oh… oh no… not rain…

Large droplets of water pelted the pair as they waited for Barbatos to pick them up. Diavolo slowly lifted up his arm and shielded MC from the rain as best he could. Well… this outfit was ruined, the least he could do was try and save MC’s…

“Well…” Diavolo tentatively began. “I heard getting caught in the rain is supposed to be romantic..?”

MC only sighed and moved a little closer, they folded their arms and stared blankly ahead. Their glassy expression made the crown prince’s heart sink right to the floor. Maybe he could cancel the meeting! He promised he’d spend more time with MC and he intended to keep it!

“MC, I could-”

“Dia, no.” MC looked up and gave him a small smile. “It’s okay, I’m okay. I knew what I was getting into when I said I’d be with you. Your kingdom is more important than one little date.”

“But I wanted to make you happy today…” Diavolo mumbled. His kingdom had always come first, before his friends, before MC, before even himself, was it so much to ask to have just one day for him to spend with the person he loved?

The human reaches up and lowered Diavolo’s arm and looped it around their shoulders. “And you did, any time that I get to spend with you makes me happy. Besides, it wasn’t all bad. The crab moment was pretty awesome.”

MC pulled out their DDD and showed Diavolo a picture of himself chucking the giant crab into the watery horizon. “We can put at least one moment of this date into the photo album.”

The precise tapping of the falling raindrops cause the DDD to flick to the next picture, which was an awkwardly angled snapshot of MC brandishing a stick at a much smaller crab who had attached its claws to their ankle.

“Uh, maybe not this picture…”

Barbatos

The poor butler rarely ever gets a day off, and he could tell MC missed spending time with him, so he asked Diavolo for a day off.

Of course Diavolo said yes, but when the day of the date came…

Barbatos saw every mishap and disaster coming a mile away. The smart thing to do would be cancel the date, but NO. Barbatos was going to use his powers for good and make sure MC had the time of their life!

The first disaster was supposed to come in the form of a pickpocket stealing MC’s wallet, key word being supposed.

As the perp made their way through the somewhat crowded sidewalk, fully prepared to swipe some wallets, Barbatos quickly twirled and dipped MC out of the way. This action also conveniently had the result of Barb knocking the pickpocket out cold.

MC of course, was none the wiser of the attempted theft and just assumed Barbatos was being suave (tm).

The second disaster was both MC and Barbatos getting hot coffee accidentally spilled all over them. Or it WOULD have been if Barbatos hadn’t quickly notified the person that would have spilled the drink that their shoelaces were undone.

Hell yeah! Second disaster averted!

The date progressed smoothly, well, as smooth as it could have gone. All those days of work and the task of making sure MC was none the wiser of any of the nasty things that could have ruined the date was really making Barbatos tired…

“Barbatos, are you alright?” “*exhausted breathing* Y-yes dearest, of course. Don’t trouble yourself.”

MC would have bought that lie if Barbatos didn’t look like he had just finished running a ten kilometre long race through a heatwave.

After making sure MC was not in the path of the escaped hellhound that would be running down the street in three, two, one, there it went, MC was safe and sound, Barbatos sighed in relief.

Just one more thing…

In the smoothest possibly motion, Barbatos opened the umbrella he had been carrying and held it over himself and MC.

MC looked up at the umbrella perplexed. “Barbatos, why-”

Thunder rumbled as the first drops of rain pelted harmlessly against the umbrella. Barbatos smiled softly and took MC’s hand. “Did you enjoy the date, darling?”

“Have you been doing damage control all day..?” MC asked. “Oh no wonder you look exhausted…”

Barbatos’ face burned with embarrassment when MC wrapped their arms around him.

“You work way to hard, this date was supposed to be relaxing for the both of us,” MC sighed. “You know what? We’re going to go back to the Demon Lord’s Castle, and I’m making you tea and snacks.”

“MC..?”

They began to pull Barbatos in the direction of the castle and plucked the umbrella out of his hand.

“I’ll hold this.” MC smiled brightly. “You relax, mister.”

Barbatos was about to protest, then sighed, no future he could see in his brief overview involved MC giving up on their new mission to make him take a break. He felt himself smile, he really lucked out with this human, didn’t he?

Simeon

The next volume of TSL had been released and Simeon was officially completely exhausted. He had spent the past two days signing special hardback copies and his writing hand was officially deceased.

He needed to relax and unwind… who better to do it with than MC? Simeon simply invited MC over to Purgatory Hall to hang out.

Oh my~ premarital eye contact~

It was just so nice, MC rested their head on Simeon’s chest while they lounged in bed watching TV, their hands gently intwined, the smell of Luke baking cookies…

Simeon let out a content sigh, he was truly and completely at peace in that moment. The soft knock on the door to his room barely phased him.

Solomon poked his head into the room with a bright smile.

“Hi you two, so sorry to barge in on your date, but before Luke took over the kitchen I made way too much food. I’ll bring some in for you guys!” “Solomon no-” “Wait!”

The date was now in intense danger. They needed to get out of there immediately! The first thing the angel could think to do to save the love of his life was to throw them out of the window.

Fret not, MC’s fall slowed considerably and they gently landed on the grass outside thanks to Simeon’s magic, but the angel himself was not as lucky. Yes his fall was slowed, but he still faceplanted into the dirt.

The two ended up running for dear life away from Purgatory Hall, further exhausting Simeon.

Well, at least they ended up near a very pretty fountain. Simeon and MC sat on the fountain ledge and resumed their snuggling.

Until Simeon got a phone call from a very frantic Luke begging for help with his math homework.

Due to being quite rusty at the subject, Simeon had to teach himself how to calculate the square root of something and then teach Luke, which was honestly frustrating for everyone involved.

After the homework was felt with, Simeon got ready to sit back down on the fountain ledge, ended up missing, then slipped straight into the fountain. It was a good thing that the water was shallow…

Then to MC and Simeon’s horror, it began to rain.

“Well…” Simeon sighed, he accepted MC’s hand and allowed himself to be pulled out of the fountain. “This isn’t so bad..?”

Lightning cracked in the distance, Simeon pulled MC into his arms on reflex, only to then realize that MC had become just as soaked as he was.

“I… sorry, MC.”

Simeon slowly unwrapped his arms from around MC, but the human remained firmly in place. “Ah, it’s fine. Want to call a cab or back to Purgatory Hall?”

“Y-yes, that sounds-” Simeon felt around for his phone, then winced and looked into the fountain. His phone was lying at the bottom of the fountain… “Do you think you could call?”

MC perked up and planted a kiss on Simeon’s cheek. “Of course, we can cuddle in the car.”

“That sounds wonderful…”

Solomon

Solomon decided to text MC at two in the morning to ask them out. In his defence, he was up late making potions and didn’t notice what time it was.

“Hey MCMCMCMCMC-” “ITS TWO OCLOCK IN THE FUCKING MORNING.” “Wanna go on a date tmrw?” “…ok.” “🥳” “see you tomorrow, Solomon.” “Oh yea- that reminds me- look at this snail I saw yesterday.” “Effervescent.” “Marry me.”

Obviously super happy that MC said yes to the date, Solomon was newly rejuvenated and went back to making his potion. It was six in the morning when he realized that maybe he should have just quit while he was ahead and went back to sleep.

It was a little late for that! He needed to go to school, then go on the date. Solomon gracefully took MC’s hand, led them out of the school, then fell down the stairs.

It um… may have messed up his tailbone. Solomon never felt more like an old man than when he and MC sat down at the cafe for coffee and MC had to help him into his seat.

The coffee arrived, MC and Solomon drank it, and Solomon just sighed in relief. This was nice, time with his sweet MC…

The way they made him feel so completely at ease… that smile… those eyes… those eyes were looking very confused-

“Solomon…” “Yes my sweet?” “There’s uh… there’s a giant spider on your head…”

…Solomon looked up and the giant spider fell right into his drink. He wasn’t thirsty anymore.

A little later, he and MC were walking hand in hand through the park, the darkness of the Devildom was almost comforting as the fireflies and pixies created little balls of light that danced around the pair.

It was such a soothing sight to behold, Solomon and MC sat down beneath a giant tree. MC rested their head on his shoulder, and Solomon let out a content sigh. He was just going to rest his eyes for a moment…

Solomon was harshly shaken awake by MC who yelled at him for falling asleep in the presence of pixies. Solomon had completely forgotten that pixies like to possess sleeping people. That was probably why he was awoken in the middle of stuffing his face with cookies that were in his backpack.

The two unanimously decided that it would be best to head back to Purgatory Hall. When the two had just returned to civilization… Solomon heard thunder.

Quick as a flash, Solomon looped his arm around MC’s waist and pulled them closer, using his other hand to draw a circle above them, when the rain began to fall, the two were completely dry thanks to the shield.

“Ha… HA! HAHAHA!” Solomon pointed and laughed at the sky. “GOT YOU BITCH!”

“Solomon..?” MC asked tentatively. “Are you alright?”

The sorcerer looked at his dear sweet perfect MC, gave them a toothy smile, and shook his head. “No darling, I’ve been awake for 56 hours.”

“Wait what? You texted me at two in the morning, you couldn’t have been awake for more than an extra few hours..?”

Solomon peppered MC’s face with sleepy kisses as the rain pattered against the shield. “I have a weird life.”

“You know what, I buy it.” MC sighed fondly. “Do you want to go home and sleep?”

“More than anything, I’ll teleport us home!”

“NO! Let’s just call someone to pick us up!”

[mzmezzler]

Hi this my first ask ever! English is my second language but it got easier ever since I started reading trumblr whenever I gotten the chance. I was wondering if you can do a subby possessive yandere Felix fic?

Stained - Felix x GN!reader

shortlist: marking, body writing, yandere!felix, sub!felix, dom!reader ( but only in Felix's head) , dub-con, slight crossdressing, self degradation, very unnegotiated kink, reader master as a title, slight domestic/established relationship that is alluded to,

word count: 1k

a/n: of course hun, thank you so much for requesting this and I hope you enjoy it. You're always welcome to send asks and I'll get to them as soon as I can cause requests especially are pretty rare for me so all other wips kinda get shoved back. I don't know if I really like how I wrote it even though I do... :(

Any and all feedback is appreciated :)

-

"Felix what is this?"

The boy stood before you in the middle of the doorway tp your bedroom with an unnerving smile on his face and his large hoodie partially unzipped. Peaking through the metal zipper teeth, you could make out splotches of black mingling with his freckled chest.

Felix said he would have something special to show you when you woke from your nap.

It was nothing special for Felix to leave you gifts in the form of baked goods, jewelry, or couples clothes. The boy always had a knack for preparing presents and acts of service that could sometimes border on the excessive.

Just like the time Felix invited himself into your apartment without notice to cook you dinner since you were so busy at work that week. So busy he felt you “forgot” about him, which wasn’t anything too alarming since the boy was always clingy in a cute way.

In a cute way.

However, within his words was a slight edge, a tinge of venom at the time.

As if you weren’t allowed to be without him.

When you initially set your keys down and turned the corner to find Felix in his boxers with an apron tied around him you were plagued with so many questions before he looked up from the sink and beamed at the sight of you.

But even with those cautious thoughts pushed to the back of your mind, there was always an odd twitch to his innocent smile, but it never reared its ugly head.

Until today.

~

“You didn’t respond to my calls last night y/n, and I worried you forgot about me-”

He makes a slight step towards you while reaching for your hand, and with every step he takes you move backwards unconsciously until your hip hits the edge of your bed.

The sudden distraction gives Felix the chance to grip your hand in his, bringing it up to caress the side of his face the way you usually would. The blonde’s eyes flutter shut as he nuzzles his cheek into your touch while you sit rigidly on the edge of the bed while Felix moves your hand to his mouth.

“ - and I can never let you forget about me.” his purrs.

Taking your fingers into his own, Felix traces your pointer and middle fingers over his lips before parting his lips to push them in to suckle on the digits while boring his eyes into your own.

Your breath hitches at the feeling of Felix greedily pushing your fingers over the pad of his tongue and down to where he can gag himself while you sit on the edge of the mattress looking on motionlessly as the blonde starts to sink to his knees.

“Felix- baby, is this supposed to be your present?” You mutter trying to ease the boy from his actions, “You don’t have to push yourself”

The reaction on his face was instant as his face contorted from pure confusion back to the sickeningly sweet look he held.

“Well no, this is my present”

Dropping the hand that held your wrist up to his mouth, Felix uses both hands to push the zipper of his jacket down to reveal the scrawled messages written on his skin. Your eyes flit about the messages of “ Master’s Property”, “ Personal Slut”, and “Cum whore”, scrawled over his torso with your initials written above his heart.

There were arrows pointing towards his nipples that lead to red ink circling the brownish buds with messages asking to “Pinch Me”, “Pull Me” , and “Bite me”.

"I wanted to show you that I’m yours” he purrs while opening his hoodie wider, letting the side fall from his shoulders. The fabric pools in the bends of his elbows letting more degrading text reveal itself. You can make out lines of: “Fuck toy” ,“Cum Slave”, “ Bitch Boy” around the mess of hearts littered over the blonde’s freckled chest.

What’s more shocking than each lewd message revealed is the look on Felix’s face as he smiles up at you from where he kneels on the floor with spit soaked lips, “Is it pretty?”

Removing the jacket fully, Felix slides closer to you, pressing his cheek onto your knee to pout up at you, “Am I pretty for you Master?” he whispers while pushing his shorts down to reveal a pair of your very own used underwear and a slew of new messages.

More arrows point to Felix’s leaking cock straining against the sheer, white fabric with degrading text calling him a “Cock Whore” and “A Free Toy” along his pelvis while the lettering on his thighs asks to “Spank Me <3” , “ Use Me”, and “Bruise here”

“I thought you’d like it if I was more-” he breaks to turn around and press his front onto the floor to present himself, “-open for you.”

The sight of what is written over the boy’s ass only makes you gasp, while he giggles at your reaction at the way words “Fuck here” and “Depraved Slut” are written over his cheeks with arrows seen with slightly blurred look through his (your) sheer underwear as they point towards his “Greedy hole”.

“You don’t like it?” he ponders, the naive tinge in his voice is dripping with distress because of your reaction, “This is the first time you haven’t liked a gift from me.”

“Felix-” you hesitate.

It was all so much to take in since this was the complete opposite of the shy and gentle Felix who always wanted things soft.

Or at least you thought, the boy presenting himself before clearly wasn't that same partner. The subtle looks that made a wave of unease wash over you were here to shine through in the way Felix smilied oh so brightly while holding himself open like all he desired, all he ever wanted was to be used.

“Do you not want to play with your toy, Master?”

[stylesberries]

Vegan Cupcakes

Summary: You and Harry have been quarantined together and he needs space.

Genre(s): angst (happy ending)

Word Count: 3.2k

Warning(s): angsty stuff, ~foul language~

You and Harry have been quarantined together for several months now and, despite the difficulty and the severity of the situation, you as a couple are having the time of your lives.

Harry was definitely disappointed and upset about not being able to go touring with Fine Line, but the second he heard the news he thought of you.

He has been donating a lot of money and supplies for those in need of it or unemployed while you took your university classes online.

Spending most of the spring together didn’t feel as suffocating for Harry as summer did. Your classes were over and you didn’t take a summer semester, so your time fully revolved around him. Which he liked.

In the beginning.

Until you clung on him like a koala for days and made him cuddle you all the time, which he enjoyed a lot until it became a routine. Harry couldn’t even tell you how he felt because it would hurt your feelings, so he didn’t say anything at all, keeping it all to himself.

“Baby?” You call for him from the kitchen.

Harry rolls his eyes as you, once again, interrupted his flow of thoughts. He gets up from the couch he was laying on peacefully before and walks towards the kitchen, where you are standing holding up a paper so big it covers your whole face.

“Yes?” Harry asks, trying his best not to come out too rough. You placed the paper on the kitchen island in front of you to look up at Harry. You didn’t pay close attention to his annoyance; you were too busy brainstorming what proportion of flour to sugar to take for your vegan cupcakes.

“Harry, do you think I should take 1:2? Like twice as much flour? Or do you want the cupcakes to be sweeter?” Harry watched you ramble, crossing his arms, feeling ~this~ close to bursting. “Or do you think the cupcakes shouldn’t be that sweet because they’ll have sweet icing on top?” You ket throwing question after question at your fuming boyfriend, still oblivious of his irritation.

“Or maybe we should make them both mildly sweet?” Shut up.

“They will be chocolate anyway, right?” Shut up.

“Would you prefer dark chocola-”

“Y/N, shut up already! Can you stop fucking rambling? My head is going to explode from your talking.” Harry explodes, not letting you finish your question, the excited smile leaving your face.

You felt your head being squeezed from sides, pressure increasing at your temples.

“What?” You ask, hoping that you misheard him, knowing deep down that you didn’t because the Harry you knew and loved would never say such a hurtful thing.

“I said shut up. My brain is buzzing from your talking. Do whatever you fucking want.” Harry said and walked out of the kitchen before you could say something to him.

Thinking that he probably isn’t in a good mood and certainly needs space from your rambling you stay back in the kitchen and go back to your recipe with a broken heart and wet eyes. Your hands shake as you brought the paper back up to your face, failing to read any of the words and measurements through a layer of tears that were collected in your eyes.

Even when you were fighting he had never said anything so mean to you before, especially after he found out that your whole life people have been discouraging you from talking, so you closed off and spoke up only when you were directly called out for not saying anything. It took Harry a couple of months to finally get you to open up to him and talk to him without feeling guilty for it. He used to love it when you rambled on and on about things you’re passionate about. At least that’s what you thought.

You spend the next hour making the batter for your cupcakes and baking them, which only took about fifteen minutes. You felt encouraged to go up to Harry when you smelled the chocolate cupcakes fresh out of the oven.

“I’ll put a couple on a plate.” You spoke to yourself placing the freshly baked cupcakes on Harry’s favorite flower plate. “Just like that.”

Talking to yourself was a way you brushed your nervousness and anxiety away. Harry would catch you talking to your reflection millions of times, just standing and secretly watching you sometimes with a wide smile plastered on his face.

You placed the plate on the tray you brought from your trip to Italy and poured Harry some black coffee, placing it next to the warm plate. You picked the tray up and walked out of the kitchen, making sure to watch your elbows at the doorway.

Making your way towards the living room, where you expected Harry to be, you spotted no grumpy boyfriends there.

“He’s probably in the studio.” You spoke to yourself, refusing to let Harry’s bad mood discourage you.

Harry would rarely hide from you in the studio when you’re fighting, usually he would face you and solve the issue before it grows and hurts you even more, so it was unusual for him to run off there.

You brushed the thought off and watched towards the studio door. As you walked closer you could hear Harry talking to someone, but knowing that there is no one home except you two, you understood that he’s talking on the phone with someone. You stood at the door, turning to the side to place the tray on the floor, freeing your hands to turn back to the door and knock, as you didn’t want to interrupt any important calls or interviews that Harry could have with your talking.

Before your knuckles hit the door, you heard Harry’s voice.

“Man, I mean she’s always next to me. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t wait for her to go back to uni for me to get some air.” Harry whines. Your heart stops before going back to beating at a higher rate, full of anxiety.

“Yeah, right! It just feels as if she’s been dreaming of being touchy-feely with someone and now that I’m finally home she can’t get herself off of me.” Harry kept stabbing your heart and laughed at something the person on the phone said.

With every word, you felt more and more empty. You started walking away from the door, bending over to take the tray with yourself not to leave any traces behind.

How could he say something like that?

I thought he loved me.

You didn’t know what you were doing. Your legs moved on their own and you just followed along, tears leaking from your eyes’ inner corners, tracing a way down to your chin. The salty trail wasn’t getting a chance to dry as new tears followed the same path as the ones before did.

When your body reached the kitchen your shaking hands placed the tray on the counter, Harry’s coffee slightly spilling on the tray.

Pain.

Never before have you thought than sadness could physically hurt so much; it hurt like a bitch.

You placed the tray on the table for Harry to find later and walked out of the kitchen to go back to your bedroom to cry in your pillow while he keeps complaining about you to his friend.

Harry came to bed in a couple of hours closer to the evening after looking for you all over the house to apologize for his rough words. When he saw you laying on your side of the bed, your knees pushed up to your chest, the duvet hardly doing its job keeping you covered and warm, he felt guilt running through his veins.

Walking up to his side, pressing a knee on the mattress first, Harry scooted over to you and pulled the duvet to cover you up. He let his arm stay on the duvet wrapping around your fragile form. He moved his upper body closer to yours, his chest pressing against your duvet-covered back.

“Baby?” Harry spoke softly, cautious not to wake you up. When no answer followed he frowned and positioned his face into the crook of your neck, pressing kisses on your neck.

“I’m sorry about earlier, baby. I was very mean to you.” He spoke against your soft skin. “I shouldn’t have exploded like that. It wasn’t fair to you.”

Harry’s apologies kept following one after another and you stayed silent, keeping your act on. You would’ve believed every word of his if only you haven’t heard him say the things he said about you to someone else.

You kept your eyes closed. Harry’s apologies subsided as he slowly fell asleep cuddled into your back. You stayed up that night, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. You wished for the pain inside to leave with your tears but it stayed, eating you from inside, until sunrise when you fell asleep from the emotional exhaustion.

When you woke up, Harry was no longer lying next to you and you were thankful for it. You really hoped that he wouldn’t bring yesterday up, even though you knew he would because he never got to apologize to you awake.

Your stomach growled and you remember that you never got to have dinner the day before, falling asleep drowning in your own sadness.

You quickly got up to sneakily walk down to the kitchen, but you were disappointed to have smelled Harry’s signature chocolate waffles in the air. With your shoulders slumped in defeat you walked down the stairs towards your kitchen.

As you walked through the doorway of the kitchen you saw Harry placing the brown waffles onto serving plates and adding sliced strawberries on top. You stopped your heart from fluttering because you, unfortunately, knew more than you’d prefer to know about how your boyfriend actually feels about you.

Harry felt someone’s eyes on him and turned around to be greeted by your indifferent self. He felt his heart sink as he read the hurt from the day before engraved on the surface of your face. Harry kept fidgeting about the table trying to let you pass to sit in your place next to him and placed the plate of waffles in front of you.

“I made you your favorite, baby.” He spoke unsure of how you would react to any words that left his mouth.

You fought the desire to bite into the warm chocolate waffles that your belly was craving after crying all night long and being left hungry for so many hours and walked up to the counter to get yourself a couple of your ill-fated cupcakes.

You couldn’t see Harry’s head lowering as you dashed his hopes to make it better. Little did Harry know you weren’t upset about his outburst about the cupcakes yesterday, so a couple of waffles won’t help to glue together the ruins of your heart that he shattered.

As you bit into the cupcakes, you stood at the counter facing away from the table, Harry took no bites of his breakfast, staring at your back helplessly. Suddenly he felt small and didn’t know what to do.

“I’m sorry about yesterday, Y/N. I acted like a piece of shit. You don’t deserve to be treated like that.” His lips moved as his eyes watched your back for any reaction coming from you, his voice coming out soft and weak.

You stood there, your eyes glossy and your lips curving down in a frown, as you fought back the tears. Harry doesn’t have a single idea of how much pain he’s caused you and how none of these stupid apologies will ever fix the cracks that he left in your heart. You looked over your shoulder at Harry’s similar-to-yours state and hesitated whether or not to open up to him. Harry looked into your eyes with his and held a breath, hoping that you would figure things out. Your eyes broke the eye contact by looking down and speaking up.

“It’s okay.” You spoke and abandoned your plate, walking out of the kitchen, Harry’s eyes observing your every movement.

For the next couple of days, you stayed away from Harry and things were pretty cold between you. Harry would come up to you every day trying to apologize but you wouldn’t let him finish any of those times, leaving the room right away. Hurt was eating you from inside and you didn’t care what he had to say. Harry chose to sleep in the guest bedroom not to make you uncomfortable and you thanked him for it.

As time went by, you cooled down and felt better yourself. Harry gave you all the space you needed and it helped your healing process. You still hurt but you could talk to him now at least. Things went back to normal in most ways except one: you would stop yourself from expressing any kind of affection to Harry and he wouldn’t say anything but it drove him insane. He didn’t know why you wouldn’t kiss or snuggle him like you used to. You also started talking less because of your fight and Harry noticed every single change in your behavior and beat himself up for it.

“Y/N.” Harry walked into the bedroom with an i-can’t-do-this-anymore face on. Your eyes had to abandon the indulging book you were reading as Harry closed the door behind him, which meant he was determined to finally face the difficulty of the situation. Noticing the mood in the room change to a serious one, you placed the book on the bedside table and crossed your legs under the duvet, focusing all of your attention on your restless boyfriend with arms crossed.

“Mhm?” You ask, waiting for him to spit out whatever he’s been putting aside for almost two weeks.

“I’m sorry for that fight, okay? I really am, sweetheart. You haven’t been the same since then and it scares me. I didn’t mean to go off at you like that. You didn’t deserve it at all. I was exhausted and felt shitty myself and took it out on you. It’s not an excuse to yell at you and be so mean, I understand and I’m sorry, beautiful. It was a mistake and it won’t happen again, I promise. Please forgive me, Y/N.” Harry spoke so desperately, his emotions all over the place. He started gesticulating, which you knew meant that he was anxious and frustrated.

“I’m not mad at that, Harry. I forgave you.” You spoke the truth; Harry looked at you with even more frustration behind his now-glossy eyes.

“But you don’t even touch me anymore! You don’t kiss me! You don’t even want to be near-” Harry lets all of his insecurities out, oblivious to the flow of your own that you prepare to pour on him. You couldn’t sit there and listen to him accuse you of being neglectful towards him so you broke in to speak yourself.

“You don’t want me to be around you anymore! You said that yourself! You-you said-” Your voice cracks as tears build up in the corners of your eyes. It became hard to talk. “-said I’m always next to you and you need some space from me always being there.”

The tears that were collecting in your eyes were streaming down your cheeks, Harry’s glance reflecting off of them. Harry couldn't understand what you were referring to but kept listening to you.

“And you didn’t even have the guts to tell me yourself. You whined about how annoying I am to your friend, embarrassing me. It’s supposed to be something kept between us two, not discussed with your friends.” Every word stabbed his heart in same places as it did yours.

Harry’s mind went straight to the call you were talking about. He felt his intestines turn into a knot inside of him, causing him to feel nauseous. He felt like an asshole. It was fair because he was one indeed.

I hurt her.

You don’t want to be around me anymore.

Does she really think that?

You need space from me.

My baby. My angel.

What a fucking piece of shit am I to hurt my precious love like this.

You saw right through Harry’s sudden self-hatred despite the two layers of salty tears between your eyes and his.

“I’m so sorry.” Harry’s apologies filled the room, as pain continued to fill his soul.

“I hurt you. I’m so fucking sorry. It was so wrong to share something so personal with anyone except you. I didn’t even know what I was saying. I can’t live without you.” Harry’s cries became louder and louder as his regret first doubled and then tripled in size. “Your hands, your lips, your beautiful eyes - I can’t live without those things on me constantly. I was such a fool to think that I needed space from you. You’re the love of my life! I love you so fucking much. I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N. I-” Harry's voice was cut by him having to take deep breaths to keep himself together. He placed a hand over his chest breathing in deeply.

You ripped the blanket off of yourself watching Harry closely, getting ready to sprint to his inhaler in case he needs it. Harry saw your reaction to his heavy breathing and rose his hand to gesture that he’s okay. You let out a relieved sign and scooted closer to the end of the bed where Harry stood. When he caught up with his breathing he looked down at you, moving to get on his knees in front of the bed. Harry’s hands flew up to cup your cheeks softly, giving you time to stop him if you wanted to.

“I love you so much, baby. I can’t express how sorry I am to hurt you so much. I don’t need any space from you. I can’t function properly without you on me all the time, without you wrapped in my arms.” Harry spoke and tears kept running down his face. You watched his eyes jump from one side of your face to the other, trying to absorb every single line and curve of your face.

“Fuck, I’ve missed looking at you so fucking much,” Harry speaks up, his face frowning as new tears start flowing out of his eyes. The frown on Harry’s face became more prominent as he understood the severity of the pain he had caused you.

”It’s all my fault.” Harry cries, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, your arms wrapping around him. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Harry kept apologizing the whole night and many days after, not letting you walk further than an arm length away from him. It took him a lot of effort to kick the insecurities that he birthed out of your head, but he kept proving himself to you over and over again.

He is an arrogant son of a bitch, but nonetheless he loves you more than himself.

© all right belong to stylesberries. do not repost or modify.

[meltingpotimagines]

Girlfriend!Momo

this girl

is such a cutie omg

you caught her attention r e a l quick the day she met you

although at first it was more curiosity and basic interest

she admired how easily you interacted with everyone and the way you just seemed to put everyone at ease

she's a natural born leader and feels the pressure of responsibility really strongly, so she really appreciates people who can do that

evolved into romantically attraction pretty quickly, and once she realized, she couldn't not be shy around you

blushes and looks away whenever you make eye contact

it's so adorable pls

surprisingly enough, shoto was the one who noticed first

long before she did actually

i fully believe these two have this unspoken connection and i will d i e on this hill okay?

he mentioned it to deku, who mentioned it to ochaco, who agreed and told mina when she caught momo staring at you once

commence plan Get These Two Obviously Pining Dorks Together

mina came up with the name if you couldn't tell

but see

momo's not stupid

i mean she i s number 1 in the class

so executing this plan without her getting suspicious and figuring it out is no easy task

but that's what Big Brain Deku's for

we all know his planning skills are superior

although it was ochaco's idea to do the classic bait and switch

ochaco and deku made plans with you while mina and shoto made plans with momo

the plan was that each group was to meet up at the mall, but mina and shoto would call momo to cancel last minute with the excuse that something came up for each of them, leaving you, deku, and ochaco to "just happen to find" momo while y'all are there

those two will find a valid excuse to go off on their own, leaving you and momo alone while they watch from afar ofc

and it went accordingly

well

mostly

see, momo is t h a t person who will put her own wants aside for others

so ditching you two was... difficult to say the least

it wasn't until ochaco hinted at momo that she wanted some alone time with deku that she let them go off on their own

and then there were two

you two

you two awkward but adorable people

and awkward it was, you two shuffling from store to store, trying to make sure you hit the stores the other wanted to go to

y'all didn't really relax until y'all hit the food court

she offered to buy you lunch and wouldn't take no for an answer

you're her friend and crush, she wanted to pay

you gave in after a couple minutes of her insisting, determined to pay her back at some point

hopefully with hugs and kisses hehe

the conversation y'all had over lunch was pleasant

ended up getting a lot deeper than either of you would have thought?

like v e r y deep

you two were far closer after that day

which gave momo the courage to ask you to hang out

which led to a date

which led to another date

which led to a few more dates

which led to the frustration of a l l of your friends bc would you two just make it official already

which you did~ after like two months my g o s h

100% the best decision of your life bc she's the best girlfriend

so sweet and supportive? like pls she's quite literally your biggest supporter and fan in everything you do

also very observant

she always knows what your favorite things are, sometimes even before you do

she just takes note of all the little things

what treats you eat the most, what shows you watch the most, the way you get just a little happier when you smell a scent you really like

she may or may not have started wearing the perfume you tried in the mall and said you really liked

also attempted to bake you your favorite treats

that... did not go as well as she'd hoped so she ended up just buying them from a frickin' expensive bakery

she a rich girl she gonna buy you stuff

if you two are out and you see something you like, she's gonna get it for you right then and there

you want it, it's yours

also she gives the best gifts

not just bc she's rich but bc she's really thoughtful

i 100% believe her love language is gifts so yk they're always amazing

she always makes sure she gets you stuff you really like

makes gift baskets but hires someone to put them together and wrap them all pretty bc you deserve the absolute best

absolutely l o v e s when you get her flowers

her face lights up and her whole mood just gets 10x better

the best remedy for a bad day tbh

gets out the prettiest vase she has which she may or may not have bought specifically for the flowers you get her but you didn't hear that from me

definitely takes you on dates to fancy restaurants

i mean like high class, three michelin stars type restaurants

basically every time you look at the menu, your eyes bug out of your head at the prices and your wallet hurts, even tho you're not the one paying

the first time you two said i love you was so cute

you two were on this little bench swing you'd found while on a walk, momo curled into your side

you saw her cute expression as she watched a couple of squirrels playing and you couldn't help but say it

causing her head to snap up, eyes locking with yours

she buried her face in her hands, attempting to hide her flushed face and regain her composure

once she had managed to regain most of it, she peeked up and shyly responded, "i love you, too"

please she's so precious how could anyone n o t love her

likes when you lay your head in her lap

she plays with your hair and kisses your forehead

thinks it's adorable when you fall asleep

also really likes cuddling with you while reading

prefers when you lay between her legs with your head on her stomach or chest but does like when she lays between your legs

sometimes she'll read out loud to you, but usually she'll just play with your hair while you doze off or are on your phone

also

cuddles in her bed? i m m a c u l a t e

not only is it ginormous, but it's the softest, most comfortable mattress you will ever feel

it's like sleeping on a cloud

satin sheets and extra fluffy pillows

you'll never wanna leave it

that plus the amazing cuddle buddy she is? the actual best thing you will ever experience

pls i'm so jealous

sometimes she'll write you love letters

she's definitely better at writing how she feels than saying it, so she kinda just pours out her heart in them

uses the prettiest stationary and occasionally even seals the envelopes with a wax seal

that extra level of boujeeness is like an extra bit of love from her

after all, nothing's too good for her love, right?

[piecksz]

forget me too. | (m)

pairing: modern punk!bakugo x fem!reader 

warnings: nsfw, angst, cheating, oral sex, penetrative sex, angry sex, choking, fingering, exes with benefits, mentions of breeding, hair pulling, explicit language, toxic relationship, manipulation, reader just being a lovesick puppy but wouldn’t we all be if it came to bakugo

summary: it’s been a year since you broke up with bakugo after you found him cheating on you, and you swore you’d moved on from him, but when you run into him again at a record shop, you fall back into a dangerous cycle of love and hate

words: 9,800+

a/n: so i gave in and watched downfalls high, and i’m not gonna lie, it wasn’t the best piece of media i’ve ever consumed, but mgk’s feature track with halsey kind of ate (AND IT LITERALLY INSPIRED SO MANY ANGSTY IDEAS I WAS ITCHINGGG). therefore, this is said angsty idea. you can listen to the song forget me too by machine gun kelly (feat. halsey) while reading, that’s if you’re really daring. good luck lol 

If there was one thing in the world you couldn’t fully understand, it was the type of girls who hated their ex-boyfriends, twirling their hair flirtatiously and giggling at all their pitiful punchlines one week, and the next, hatching bogus rumors to discourage other girls from seeking them out romantically, letting them know that their charm came at a price.

Until it was Bakugo.

You genuinely didn’t see it coming. You weren’t even able to recognize the severity of the situation until you were convulsing with the gravity of your sobs, shrieking at him in front of his apartment. Bakugo had called you earlier that evening to reschedule your previously-arranged dinner date since his friend Kirishima was in town, and he wanted to dedicate the rest of the night to catching up with his old schoolmate. You happily forfeited your own plans and instead opted to rendezvous with your boyfriend and his familiar later in the week, but as the night hauled on your favorite TV show no longer satiated your boredom.

Shuffling into the kitchen and scouring your cabinet for ingredients, you drew up the idea to bake some sweets for Bakugo and Kirishima because you figured it would be a nice surprise, however once you arrived at Bakugo’s place you deduced quickly that his friend wasn’t over. It should have been notably clear that something was unusual by the way he was hesitant to let you in.

He poked his head out from behind the privacy of his front door, definitely surprised to see you, but not in the way you had hoped.

“Y/N,” he greeted you with a tight-lipped expression, eyes dropping to the tub of sugar cookies in your hands. “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you call me to let me know you were coming over?”

You hummed after detecting a subtle edge in his voice. “I wanted to surprise you.” You rose to your toes to look past his head. “I thought you said your friend was coming over.”

Bakugo nodded, and once he extended his hand to accept your treats you could see that his torso was bare. “Idiot had to cancel at the last minute. School shit. He said he’ll be here tomorrow.”

Your grip tightened on the container. 

If his friend couldn’t make it then why didn’t he let you know? The two of you still could have made it to your dinner reservations.

And in that moment, you swore your internal monologue was loud enough to hear, because you immediately received your answer when you heard a soft, feminine voice come from inside his apartment.

“Who the fuck is that?” you barked, trying to outbalance Bakugo’s weight on the door. “Bakugo you little fucking shit--let me in.” It was a moment-long game between the two of you until Bakugo gave in, accepting the reality that he’d already been caught. You stumbled into the door as it swung open, revealing his company.

She was petite with short blonde hair, wearing a panicked expression that matched Bakugo’s oversized flannel on her naked body almost impeccably. You stared at each other until you broke the tense silence with a quiet holy shit.

“Holy shit,” you repeated louder, blinking as fast as you could to hold back the salty tears that were beginning to cloud your vision. “You fucking dick!” You didn’t notice how forceful your voice had gotten until you were shouting at him, the immense pressure building in your chest making your voice crack. You hurled every vulgar name in the book at Bakugo who couldn’t even look you in the eye while you cried in front of him.

This couldn’t have been the same man you once saw your future playing out with. The hell unfolding in front of you was exactly what your friends, Momo and Ochako, had predicted once you disclosed your interest in Bakugo. They warned you that he had a record on campus, with multiple girls, and yet somehow when he wooed you with sweet words and thoughtful gifts, just like they said he would, you still thought you were different. The worst part of it all was that he wasn’t a terrible guy by any means. He was a little rough around the edges with a temper, but he was hilarious and passionate, all while being profound and smart.

In your fantasies the two of you were married, and then came babies with tufts of your tresses and the mischief of his ruby eyes. He would have been a winner, if he wasn’t so emotionally incompetent. Perhaps you were naive to assume what you and Bakugo had was love just because he said so.

Your quivering fingers worked unsteadily against the lid of the tupperware. You tossed it aside before dumping the container’s contents on the floor of his apartment and hurled the empty food saver at him.

“Come fucking on Y/N,” he said wearily. The fucking nerve he had to act tired.

“Enjoy your cookies,” you responded venomously, leaving quickly before another set of tears came surging.

The next several months were excruciating, and the pain you experienced was nothing compared to its onset. If you weren’t spending days cocooned in bed to sleep off the fatigue of your endless crying, then you were on your couch, staring unamused while Blair Waldorf waltzed across your TV screen. 

At least she got her happy fucking ending. Good for her. 

You couldn’t even find the energy to eat, and ice cream was not the cure-all for heartbreaks like everyone lied and said it was.

Every so often Momo and Ochako would pay you a visit. For the first few weeks they let you mourn, consoling you and cleaning up the litter of crumpled tissues around your apartment. After the first month, they suggested that maybe meeting someone new would be the best way to help you forget about your break up, but you didn’t want to meet someone new. You just wanted to know if Bakugo missed you too.

Once your grades started slipping, you used that as an excuse to turn to isolation and lose yourself in your schoolwork. The distraction left you with no leisure time to scroll through old photos of you and Bakugo in your phone, and within a couple months, you swore that you’d finally moved on from him.

But it seemed all of that was forgotten the moment you recognized his head of spiky blonde hair from the next aisle over in the record shop, and you silently cursed the universe’s cruel way of working, that all-knowing bitch.

You kept your head down, pretending to be overtly interested in the Kendrick Lamar vinyl you held in your hands, but you couldn’t stop peeking over the shelf to see if Bakugo had moved from his spot.

You could hear him shuffling, and every time you looked up, he was a step closer to the end of the aisle, meaning that your game plan was to move in the opposite direction, so you could slip past him without being detected.

You continued to move one step to the left every time Bakugo moved another step to the right, surely securing your elusive escape, but when you glanced up again, he had disappeared from your line of surveillance. Shit.

“Y/N?”

Shit!

Slowly, you pivoted in the direction of your name only to gawk, horrified, as your ex-boyfriend strolled up to you casually, like he had never ripped your heart out and trampled all over it.

Once he got closer, you realized how generous the year between your break up and now had been to him. His yellow flannel was useless tied around his waist when it should have been on his shoulders instead, covering the way his black Led Zeppelin shirt clung to the impressive build of his upper body.  

“Holy fuck, it is you,” Bakugo said, incredulously. You swore he had grown taller now that he was standing in front of you because you couldn’t remember if he had always towered over you.

“Small world,” you said, distastefully.

“Not really,” Bakugo shrugged. “This is just where I come to slave away for minimum wage.”

You simply blinked at him with a placid expression, unable to decide which of your emotions was best considering the circumstances.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” he chuckled. “Did you cut your hair?”

You raised an eyebrow plainly. “No.” If anything your hair had grown a few inches longer.

“Highlights?”

“No.”

“Shit seriously?” Bakugo cast his eyes downwards and then back up, sizing up your figure. “Well you look good.”

You could only offer up a dry laugh in response while shaking your head at the peculiarity of the situation.  

“What is wrong with you?” you jeered.  

You couldn’t believe the ease with which he approached you after not seeing you for twelve whole months, especially when six and a half of those months were spent bawling your eyes out over him and trying to repair the heart he broke carelessly.

Bakugo’s blithe expression withered. The look left behind was one of bashful remorse, as if he was embarrassed by the person he was a year ago.

You weren’t even sure if he had really changed since you’d gone out of your way to avoid hearing or seeing anything about him after you claimed to have gotten over him. The real reason was that you felt you couldn’t trust yourself. You feared that if you came across anything having to do with him, you’d descend into another self-destructive, heartache-driven spiral.

“I tried calling to apologize, but you blocked my number. And then blocked me on everything else,” Bakugo explained.

You shifted uncomfortably.

“I never saw you around campus, and when I showed up to your apartment you weren’t home. I felt like horse shit, seriously, but after a while I just gave up, I guess.”

You pursed your lips together at the mention of his attempts to remedy your breakup, specifically because this whole time you could have sworn he didn’t care to fix things with you.

Bakugo leaned in, and you surprised yourself by making no effort to create more distance between the both of you.

“I’m really fucking sorry, Y/N,” he said softly, for once without the gruffness of his usual tone.

If he made the effort to apologize even after a year, that must have meant that he still had some feelings left over for you, right? Did that mean he still loved you? The suspicion made your heart squeeze with expectation.

“Are you sorry that you hurt me, or are you sorry that you got caught?” You questioned.

“Both,” Bakugo snickered tactlessly.

You swore you could have punched his lights out then and there, but he must have noticed the way you tensed up because he looped his arm around you, pulling you in until you nestled into his larger frame.

“I fucking missed you, dumbass.”

Your stomach dropped at the very mention of the words you were longing to hear after your split, and you knew that you weren’t over him. Not even close. Even when you had caught another girl with her hands on him.

Your first mistake was unblocking Bakugo’s number that night, and your second was sending him a text. You stood in the bathroom, dumbfounded by your own actions while you clutched your phone nervously. Thank god he didn’t have his read receipts on. The last thing you needed to know was if he decided to leave you on read after you had just stroked his monumental ego.

You sat your phone aside and proceeded brushing your teeth until you were interrupted by a shrill ding from beside you. You grabbed your phone much too quickly and slid the screen up to be met with a reply from Bakugo.

9:32 PM

bakugo: so i’m still in your phone huh?

9:32 PM:

bakugo: lmao

9:33 PM:

bakugo: thinking about me even after bitching about how much you hate me?

9:34 PM:

bakugo: especially at night that’s hot

You scowled at the messages before putting your phone back down. Using the time it took you to finish brushing your teeth and washing your face, you recited your responses over and over again because as much as you wanted to, you knew it wouldn’t be smart to jump back into your relationship that fast. You still held negative sentiments about what he had done to you, but the pleasure of having him back was slowly beginning to outweigh your earlier feelings.

While shuffling into your bedroom, you kept your eyes glued to your phone screen, typing, deleting, and retyping messages, worried that they would sound too needy.

9:50 PM:

you: so i see you still have a head so big that it could block out the sun

9:53 PM:

bakugo: fuck off you little shit

9:53 PM:

bakugo: no classes tmrw and i’m off work at 12

9:54 PM:

you: ok? do i look like your fucking secretary?

10:00 PM:

bakugo: no im just letting you know in case you’re planning on stalking me again :^(

10:01 PM

bakugo: obviously i wanna see you tomorrow dipshit

Warmth spread across your cheeks until it deepened into a dangerous heat, and the happy memories of you and Bakugo a year ago resurfaced as deja vu. Everything was scarily reminiscent of the way he asked you out the first time, back when your opinions about him were much more straightforward.

You rolled over to the other side of your bed and squealed, flustered by how to-the-point he was about his desire to reconcile things with you.

“Get it together, honestly,” you reprimanded yourself, jabbing a finger against your temple in an effort to drill the mantra into your head.

You responded back to accept Bakugo’s invitation, being mindful not to sound too excited, but you couldn’t deny that you slept better than usual that night.

The next day when you met up with Bakugo after his shift at the record shop ended, the two of you settled on getting coffee from one of the restaurants on campus. Well, you got a coffee, but Bakugo went for an iced tea instead because he insisted that coffee tasted like “dog shit”.

Regardless of your staggering difference of opinion in beverages, you guys hit it off again, laughing and joking around like there had never been a rift between you two in the first place. You were taken aback by how comfortable you still felt around him and how much he still seemed to adore you.

Two weeks after your reunion, you and Bakugo were already falling back into the routine of going on dates like you’d done before, snickering in the back of crowded movie theaters and demolishing each other in multiple rounds of mini golf. You even kept the photo booth picture that was printed for you at the aquarium in your wallet, just so you could peek at it every now and then.

Three weeks after your reunion, you concluded that you were pretty much together. Bakugo had never made it official, and neither had you, but you trusted the way you felt, and it seemed clear that he felt the same way.

Your friends however, weren’t as happy to hear the news of you and Bakugo seeing each other again.

Momo’s eyes widened as she leaned over the table and thrusted her mechanical pencil in your direction.

“Y/N, please tell me you’re joking.” She turned to Ochako who looked at you with a troubled expression. “Uraraka, please tell me she’s joking.”

Ochako pressed her lips into a thin line, shaking her head in utter disbelief. She said nothing. Rather she looked to you for an answer, wanting you to explain the situation before she scolded you for being so forgiving toward someone who didn’t deserve it.  

“He apologized okay? And it really seemed like he meant it, I’m not just saying that. You guys know I can’t hold grudges. I’m soft.”

Momo huffed.

“We started talking, and he told me that he tried to apologize but he never got the chance.”

Your friends were still quiet, waiting for the punchline, but once they realized that there was no hidden gag to the story, they leaned back in exhaustion, disappointed that you’d gotten yourself into another wearisome situation because of your thoughtlessness.

“And he said he missed me. After an entire year, he still misses me.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if we had found you someone else, you know. Someone nice. Better than Bakugo, so you don’t feel like you have to settle,” Momo countered.

“I didn’t need to date someone else,” you chided her. “I’m not one of those people that need to be in a relationship to feel fulfilled, plus I’ve been swamped with assignments.” You knew you were just trying to save face. You knew the real reason why you turned down all your prospective blind dates, and your friends knew it too. You couldn’t see yourself with anyone other than Bakugo, and you meant it when you said you didn’t need love to feel like you had purpose, but when it came to the blonde, it appeared that none of those principles applied.

“You’re lying,” Ochako sighed, tucking her hair behind her ear before clicking her pen and returning to her research paper.

“I’m not settling!” you declared, earning a few scattered glances from the other students in the library. You smiled at them ruefully, mouthing an apology, and ducked your head back into your college textbook.

You decided to drop the conversation, concluding that your friends just wouldn’t understand. They didn’t know your relationship with Bakugo like you did so how could they have understood?

Later that night however, you couldn’t help but chew over your friends’ reactions. There was clearly a reason why they felt the way they did, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to see their concern. You didn’t need to be chastised every time you did something they didn’t agree with, because you reminded yourself you were a grown ass woman. You treasured Momo and Ochako, but you were absolutely capable of looking out of yourself.

“Why do girls watch this shit?” Bakugo muttered from beside you, uninterested in the movie playing on the Macbook propped up in your lap. “It’s just dresses and sideburns, where the fuck are the fist fights?”

“It’s Pride and Prejudice, stupid. Not Deadpool,” you retorted, giggling slightly once Bakugo decided the skin of your neck was more interesting than Kiera Knightley. He released a throaty chuckle while attaching his lips to the base of your jaw and continued kissing until he stopped where your neck met your shoulders.

“Stop, I’m trying to watch the movie,” you complained tenderly with absolutely no intent to make Bakugo stop.

Bakugo sat up, grabbing your laptop off the sheets and closing it briskly. “Fuck the movie, I have a better idea,” he suggested. Your eyebrows furrowed, watching as he tossed the device onto the chair beside your closet.

“Hey, what are you doing, you dick?” you protested.

Within seconds Bakugo was on top of you with arms on either side of your head, effectively caging you in beneath him.

“Yeah?” he whispered provocatively, like he was making sure he had your permission first. He spoke under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

You didn’t know what sensation you registered first: the warmth now spreading quickly across your cheeks, down to your chest, or the pronounced throbbing between your thighs.

You nodded, softly responding with a “yeah” in return, and Bakugo didn’t waste a second before pressing his mouth to yours enthusiastically. You were surprised how quickly you re-familiarized yourself with the curve of his lips and the way they moved steadily against yours. Acting with fervor, he used his hand to grip your chin, forcing your mouth to open wider so he could slip his tongue past your teeth.

Bakugo used his free hand to grab your breast under your sweatshirt, and you relished in the feeling of his warm palm against your skin while he ran his fingertips against the silky fabric of your lace bra.

“Lace? You dirty bitch,” he teased, breaking contact. “There’s no way you could have known we were gonna fuck.”

You laughed, appreciating how seductive Bakugo looked. His sandy hair was tousled from your impatient hands in his locks, skin feverishly tinged with a dusty pink hue, and lips swollen from the force of his kiss.

“I didn’t know, but I was hoping we would,” you answered honestly. “I guess I got lucky.”

Bakugo snickered, clearly pleased with the response he received. His scarlet eyes flickered lustfully, and he hastily returned to working on your body. He pulled your sweatshirt up and off, tossing it over his shoulder before working swiftly against the clasp of your bra, which he skillfully managed to break with just one hand.

Must have had a lot of practice with that.

But your cynical thoughts were soon forgotten the moment Bakugo’s tongue curled around your nipple, enjoying the way his saliva made your skin glisten under the dim lamp light. He hummed loudly every time you jolted and whimpered, your back arching in tandem. He closed his lips around the delicate nub, sucking harshly while making no attempts to hide his sly smile. He was enjoying himself far too much.

He made sure he put his other hand to work, rolling your other nipple between his fingers, pinching roughly while tugging on it absentmindedly. Once he grew bored of your innocent mewls, he thirsted for something filthier.

Bakugo tantalizingly slid his hand down your stomach until his fingers curled around the waistband of your volleyball shorts. He stretched the Spandex material until when he released it, it snapped painfully against your skin, his cock throbbing at the exposure of your earthy groan.

He slipped off your shorts, and the sight before him was enough to elicit a long, drawn-out “Jesus fucking Christ”.

You didn’t realize you were so aroused that your underwear was soaking wet, your pussy now visible through the thin sheer fabric. Bakugo swallowed hard, palming himself to relieve some of the unbearable pressure he was feeling. He could feel his cock straining against his underwear, and he wanted to stick his dick inside you and fuck you until your eyes rolled back into your head, but the only thing he wanted more than that was to taste you.

“These are mine,” Bakugo insisted. He pulled your panties off, chuckling dryly at the wet stain on the fabric before tucking them into his pocket.

You tilted your head at him.

“What? I’m keeping them as a souvenir,” he replied.

But that’s not what you were concerned with. You were more humiliated than anything that this was your first time having sex with him in a year, and you’d been horny for him since you opened the door. You might as well have just written Bakugo’s Whore on your head in thick permanent marker, but you kept your suggestion to yourself knowing that Bakugo would have liked the idea way too much.

Bakugo reached down to pull his shirt over his head and threw it aside, unveiling his impressive physique. After you guys had broken up, he began finding himself in the gym more frequently, placating his regret and anger through physical exertion, and although he used weightlifting to cope, it left him with an incredible build.

Sweet lord, you thought, please fucking break me.

Bakugo wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you forcibly toward him. You propped yourself up on your elbows to get a good look as his face disappeared between your legs. You couldn’t see much past his hair, but you felt a long wet lick up your folds, and your arms immediately gave out, causing you to fall back onto the bed while your hips bucked upward.

You let out an obscene cry, but that only encouraged Bakugo more. He parted your lips with his tongue, licking another stripe up to your clit before sucking it into his mouth, all while peering up at you to see the way you writhed under his touch. You gripped the sheets, and your breathing grew increasingly labored as Bakugo swirled the tip of his tongue against the tender bud, slowly in one direction, and then the opposite. You continued to grind yourself against his mouth while your desire became insatiable. You felt like your hunger was completely justified, because you hadn’t been spoiled in a long fucking time.

You completely unraveled once you glanced down just in time to see Bakugo spit on your parted folds before using his fingers to coat your pussy in his saliva. His slick fingers rubbed your clit, taunting you for just a while longer, and then he dipped his fingers inside of you. He started with two fingers, slipping them in and out with ease until his spit mixed with your arousal created a vile lubricant.

With the way Bakugo’s lips were slightly parted and his eyebrows were knitted in the center, you could tell he was concentrating dangerously, observing how desperately you swallowed his fingers every time he pushed them in.

Your vision erupted into white heat when he bent down to take your clit back into his mouth while pumping in and out of you with an added finger. The symphony that filled the space of your room was absolutely foul. Your intense cries bounced off the walls, while Bakugo panted heavily at the messy sound of his fingers thrusting in and out of you. And neither of you cared if your neighbors could hear.

“Bakugo--,” you started, but your broken plea wasn’t nearly enough to get his attention.

“Bakugo,” you cried louder, your body beginning to shake with the onset of your orgasm.

“Are you gonna cum?” He asked, his voice slightly higher than you were used to, almost like he was whining.

You could only give a weak nod in response.

“Be a good little bitch and cum for me,” Bakugo coaxed, as you yielded to the intensity of your orgasm. He quickened his pace just to see you convulse as you reached your high, but then slowed down until he was ready to pull his fingers out of you.

The sight was enough to make Bakugo cum untouched. You were finger-fucked out, eyes shut as your chest heaved up and down while you tried to catch your breath. Your arousal was smeared on the inside of your thighs and your bedsheet was damp where you released.

Bakugo wanted to ask you if you were alright, but the aching pain in his pants took priority. He reached into his underwear, freeing his swollen cock from the confines of his boxers. He bit down on his bottom lip so hard he almost drew blood as he pumped himself gingerly, hissing at the feeling. His tip was raw and flushed, leaking precum in shameless amounts.

He hoisted your legs on either shoulder and positioned himself at your entrance, looking at you for confirmation, and you nodded feebly. He sunk his entire length into you, and you covered your mouth with your hand to stifle a shrill scream. Your walls were already sore, and the sting of Bakugo’s large cock inside of you was a painful bliss. Tears came quickly, and they rolled down your cheeks while Bakugo rocked his hips into you slowly. He was waiting for his aching to subside before speeding up his rhythm, and once it did he was taken over by an unappeasable greed.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned, thrusting himself in and out of you. “If you keep squeezing me like that I’m gonna cum inside you and get you fucking pregnant.” Bakugo had one hand on your headboard, his grip so firm that his knuckles had turned white.

You sobbed underneath him, withstanding your own pain until it subdued into pleasure. You shifted your legs until they wrapped around Bakugo’s strong torso, unable to get enough of him.

Bakugo rammed into you, and your headboard hitting your wall furiously set the tempo until he fell into a staggered cadence.

“I’m gonna cum,” he choked out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck--.” Your name was the last thing Bakugo could get out before he broke free of your hold, pulling himself out of you so he could release. He cummed on your stomach, generously shooting out hot spurts of white until he was soft and you were covered in his seed.

Bakugo leaned over and collapsed beside you, short of breath. He was drenched in sweat and his blonde hair stuck to his forehead with perspiration. He chuckled after a few silent minutes.

“What the fuck was that? Were you trying to get me to nut in you?” Bakugo asked, turning to face you.

You didn’t know what he was talking about until you remembered the way you wrapped him up in your legs while he was inside you.

You snorted, erupting into a fit of sheepish laughter. “Yeah.”

Bakugo raised an eyebrow, bewildered. “Crazy bitch.”

He pulled his sweatpants up and rolled out of your bed. “I’m not ready to be a dad yet,” he voiced, before shuffling lazily out of the room to find something he could clean you up with and smoke a cigarette on the fire escape.

The next morning you found yourself alone, Bakugo nowhere to be found despite you falling asleep with his arms around your waist. You raised a sleepy eyebrow at the empty space next to you that was still sunken from his weight. Okay good, so you didn’t hallucinate last night. You figured Bakugo had early duties to attend to, so you simply grumbled before turning over to get more sleep.

Following that day, every time Bakugo came over to your place, or you found yourself at his, the routine was simple: have breathtaking sex and then pass out.

You grew used to expecting it from him whenever the two of you spent any time alone, and the night before always consumed your thoughts the morning after. You’d squeeze your thighs together during your lecture hall while your professor yammered on about early psychology. The memory of Bakugo’s hand around your throat as he fucked you from behind prompted a surge of heat to your core.

Even when the two of you couldn’t see each other because neither of your schedules coincided, you found a way to make things work, whether it was over the phone, through text, or over Facetime.

Occasionally, you’d ring up Bakugo while he was closing up the shop to taunt him, touching yourself on the other line while he’d grow painfully hard and couldn’t relieve himself until he got home.

“You little fucking shit.” You loved the way his low growls sounded over the phone. “Let’s see how bold you are when I come over and turn your thighs into earmuffs.”

And occasionally, he’d send you videos of himself in bed while you were at the library late cramming for your exams the next morning, touching his cock with haste before cumming on his hands as he groaned your name loudly.

Not an ounce of passion was lost between you two, and if anything you’d only grown closer together from the time spent apart. You had your love back, and everything in your life was ideal.

Of course, that was all before the party.

The party at Sero’s house that you’d caught wind of once you joined Momo, Ochako, and your other friend Mina for lunch.

“You know I don’t like going to parties thrown by frats,” Ochako muttered, ripping off small bites of her chicken wrap.

“Why not? There’ll be plenty of guys there for you to talk to, your phone has been a little dry lately,” Mina responded, laughing silently.

Ochako squinted at her jest before playfully rolling her eyes herself. “That’s exactly why. You know what happened last time I went to a frat party. The hangover isn’t worth it.”

Mina exhaled heavily and turned to you with a hopeful look.

“Y/N, you’ll go with us right? Me and Momo?”

You squeezed your water bottle wearily. “I don’t know. I’m not a fan of frat parties either.” You didn’t know what answer to give her, she looked extremely optimistic, and you hated to rain on Mina’s Friday night plans, but you didn’t want to spend the rest of the evening crammed in a frat house with a crowd of strangers.

Mina stuck out her bottom lip and reached to grab your hand from across the table. “Please? Please? There’s no guarantee Momo won’t ditch me at the party for Todoroki.”

Momo murmured inaudibly beside her.

You sighed, however you relented, giving into the arrangements Mina had made for you, but you regretted your decision far too late.

You showed up to the gathering with Mina and Momo dressed modestly. Unlike your friends and many of the other girls there, you already had someone that you were seeing, and you wanted to look as reserved as you could so there was no confusion around whether or not you were off the market.

Bakugo was possessive, and he preferred to keep his possessions close. There was no telling what he would do or how he’d react if he learned of another man trying to make a move on you.

You took small sips out of your cup while you followed quietly behind Momo and Mina as they moved from person to person, greeting friends you were unfamiliar with. You feigned a cheery smile when you were introduced to them, but overall you were bored with the party scene. You weren’t really a frat party girl.

You yelled over to Momo that you needed another drink and shook your head when she asked you if you needed her to come with you. She looked far too engrossed in her conversation with Todoroki, and you didn’t want to just whisk her away while they were talking. In fact, you were the chairman of the Anti-Cockblock Committee.

You sauntered into the kitchen, sliding in next to the counter once the guests who were there first left. You started grabbing bottles to inspect the labels because to be honest, you weren’t sure what half of these brands were. As a broke college student, you bought your own drinks, which were mainly $20 cases of hard lemonade and cheap raspberry Smirnoff vodka from the liquor store. Clearly Sero had selective taste in high quality shit.

You poured yourself a small sip of Patron, tasting the clear liquid, and tried not to gag at the oaky taste as it burned your throat going down.

You felt someone ease in beside you. “Hey, bartender.”

You glanced at the guest next to you, their familiar visage coming into view. You recognized his distinctive green head of hair and innocent freckles peppered across his cheeks, it was the same face you saw every day in your sociology class.

What was his name? Ku--something. Zu…?

You remembered your professor referred to him by his nickname, Deku, and once you said his name as convincingly as you could, you gathered by his boyish grin that you were right.

“I’m surprised you remembered,” he laughed, and adjusted his circle-rimmed glasses while his emerald eyes swelled into crescents.

“I didn’t really take you for a partier,” you observed. Deku was incredibly smart from what you’d seen in class. He knew the answers before your professor could even finish their questions, and when you’d ask him if he could repeat what the teacher said for your notes, he explained the material even better than the person who was an expert in the subject for a living.

“I’m not,” he replied. “But you know, the college experience and all that.”

You scoffed and nodded, knowingly. “Melt your brain studying for 25 hours a day, 8 days a week, and then get shitfaced whenever you can. Yeah, that’s definitely the college experience,” you joked, pouring yourself a couple shots of vodka and mixed it with orange soda.

“I was meaning to ask you,” Deku started. “I mean--Yeah--I was meaning to ask you for your number in class earlier this week.”

You stirred your drink with a finger before stealing a taste. “Of course,” you agreed happily.

Deku’s face deepened into a rosy bloom once he took out his phone, typing in your contact while you recited the numbers.

“I’m not asking for a weird reason or anything like that. Just so we can help each other out with homework and stuff.”

You nodded, already acknowledging that Deku was a sweet kid, at least as far as you knew. You didn’t expect him to have any promiscuous intentions.

“Yeah, but I don’t think I’ll be as much help to you as you’ll be to me,” you teased, and Deku chuckled nervously still trying to shake the blush off his cheeks. “I’m free on Monday, I can meet up with you after class if you want.”

Deku buried his face into his cup, his shallow breathing causing his glasses to fog up. “Yeah, that sounds great,” he mumbled bashfully.

“Text me the deets,” you grinned, before wandering off back to your friends.

On the way back to the stairwell where Momo and Mina were still standing, your attention was drawn by a large crowd around the living room that erupted into jovial squeals and cheers every few seconds. You gravitated toward the mass of guests, standing on your toes to get a better look, but when that didn’t work you gently made your way through the throng of people, issuing soft “sorry, excuse me’s” and “thank you’s” to the people that didn’t mind letting you slip past them.

You had no knowledge that he was going to be here. He never told you what his plans for the night were, but this was the last place you were expecting Bakugo to be.

Here.

Playing a game of “Kiss and Blow” on a crowded couch with someone who wasn’t you. When it reached his turn, you could see his shallow inhale and how he put in no effort to keep the card against his mouth. It fell between the cushions, and the crowd erupted into another rally.

Bakugo grinned artfully and hooked his arm around the eager brunette before smothering her giggles with a deep tongue-filled kiss.

At first, the cogs in your brain couldn’t turn fast enough to register what was happening, and your thought process stuttered for a moment while your eyes took in more than you expected. Your body remained immobile, giving your thoughts a few seconds to catch up. Maybe for those few seconds, your anguish was suspended, and your shock was simply a cushion until you fell apart.

You couldn’t make your way out of the party fast enough, and you didn’t even think to let Momo and Mina know that you were leaving. Everything around you sounded warbled, like you were underwater, as your leaden legs carried you out, past the front lawn, and across the street until you were far away that you could no longer hear the music of the party. It was then that you pulled out your phone to text Mina claiming that you didn’t feel well and called an Uber to take you home.

The following morning you ignored all of Bakugo’s texts. He sent one at 10 AM, asking you if you were down to get breakfast, and then another at noon suggesting lunch since you didn’t respond to his text about breakfast. He texted you again, and again, and again, and you continued to disregard him.

You didn’t cry this time around. No. You were filled with a foreign anger. It was strange and new, and it burned nothing like the rage you’d felt in all your years of living. You didn’t know whether you were angry at him for putting you through this again or if you were angry at yourself for really believing that he’d changed. You really wanted to confront Bakugo in person, but you were afraid of your unpredictability. You didn’t know what you would do if you saw him--roundhouse kick him in the throat most likely.

Bakugo’s relentless attempts to get in contact with you didn’t let up, even late into the night. He sent another text threatening to show up at your apartment if you didn’t answer him, and then he called yet again.

Angrily, you reached out to answer your phone, but once you held it to your ear all the fury you’d been bearing throughout the day emerged.

“Can you fuck off?” You hissed.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Bakugo responded, taken off guard by your greeting. “What the fuck?”

“If you were so hellbent on seeing me today, you should have thought about that before you decided to be a hypocritical little bastard! Again!” You shook with anger, unable to effectively piece together all the profane names you wanted to call him.

Bakugo was still while you put him on blast.

“Do you not have anything to say to me, you fuckwit?”

“No, because I don’t even know why you’re going full bitch right now!” Bakugo defended himself. You sat back at his reply, confused at why he was guarded. You knew that when Bakugo was aware he was in the wrong he always remained quiet and pensive.

“Last night?” you clarified. “Does last night not ring a bell to you?”

He let out a small grunt of recollection. “I was at a party last night, what are you talking about?”

“No shit, Bakugo! I saw you swallowing another girl whole!”

The other line erupted into laughter, and a large knot settled in your throat.

“Am I not allowed to kiss other girls now?” he asked.

Had he been hit by a semi-truck? Did he need a swift lobotomy?

“Why would you kiss another girl if you have a girlfriend?”

Bakugo muttered a quiet “what”, and then the lightbulb clicked.

“Holy shit, Y/N, did you think we were back together?”

Huh?

“When did we ever say that we were together?” he questioned lightly, finding your misunderstanding comical.

But--

“I thought we were just fucking around, you know? I never mentioned getting back together, and you didn’t either, so I just assumed we were just fucking.”

You didn’t say a word. As angry as you wanted to be and as angry as you already were, he was right. You had only assumed that you two were back together, but neither of you agreed on it explicitly.

“Our dates...” you countered listlessly.

“Two people hanging out together isn’t always a date.” Bakugo shifted on the other end and then grunted again to occupy the tense silence. “Shitting me, I didn’t know that’s what you were thinking.”

Realization of how foolish you made yourself look set in, and you hoped the awkwardness that hung in the air was fleeting. You swallow heavily, unable to digest defeat.

“Okay,” you murmured, before hanging up and flinging your phone aside.

You and Bakugo didn’t speak for the rest of the night into next morning, and by midday Monday when your study session with Deku rolled around, you were more than reluctant to go. You knew the frustration of someone cancelling last minute, but you were unsure whether you could bring a positive spirit to your meetup, and the last thing you wanted to do was put kind-hearted Deku through your bad mood.

As the time drew closer, you were considering texting him to rain check, letting him know you were feeling under the weather, when he sent you a picture at the coffee shop. Deku had ordered you lunch, mentioning that you must’ve been hungry after classes all day. He explained that he didn’t know what you liked so he just bought for you what he usually got for himself.

After that, you couldn’t have possibly turned him down, so you showed up anyway. Before you knew it, the clock already approached 9 PM, and the coffee shop was about to close for the night. Time had flown by while you were getting lost in upbeat conversation with Deku, and the two of you laughed and joked around more than you’d done your assignment, but you didn’t mind since it gave you another excuse to meet up with him. You didn’t expect him to be as naturally humorous as he was, nor did you guess you’d have as much in common with him as you did, but you’d forgotten about your own heartache during the time you spent in his company. Not to mention, he was very easy on the eyes, but that was just an additional plus.

However, when you finally returned home to your empty apartment that night, all your feelings came flooding back.

“Right,” you muttered to yourself, setting your backpack down by the door, and throwing your keys onto the kitchen counter. “Back to square one.”

Normally, you’d invite Bakugo over, but you had no desire to be anywhere within a three mile radius of him at the moment, so you quickly got ready for bed, figuring that the more time you spent asleep meant less time that you’d have to dwell over the all-too-familiar pain in your chest.

You continued to spend more and more time with Deku even though most of your plans were organized around schoolwork, even if it was studying for a test or just practicing terminology flashcards. Eventually, you’d gotten close enough that you didn’t mind inviting him over since your apartment was much quieter than the dorm he shared with his roommate, Kaminari.

You were both sat on your couch, and you took turns quizzing each other on general knowledge sociology questions. You flipped through the flashcards, Deku answering every question with impressive ease, until you had grown tired.

“Deku, this isn’t fun. You know every term,” you sighed, shuffling through the stack.

“Studying isn’t supposed to be fun, that’s why it’s called studying and not having fun,” he joked lamely, extending his hands to take his flashcards back.

You giggled silently at his flat humor and leaned back against the armrest to put your knees up. “Okay, well what do you like to do when you’re not studying?”

Deku slipped his flashcards into the pocket of his backpack. “Between classes, studying, and wrestling, I don’t really have much time for anything else.”

You gaped. “You wrestle? No fucking way.”

Deku raised an eyebrow at you, amused and unsure of the reason for your stupefaction. “Why do you think I’m a loser or something?”

“I don’t think you’re a loser,” you explained. “I just wouldn’t have guessed.” You took note of his lean stature. He did look like he worked out, but you never considered his pastime was something as brutish as wrestling. You figured his interests would explain the scars that decorated both of his hands.

“Okay then,” you began, hopping up and throwing the blanket you were wrapped in on the couch. “Teach me something.”

Deku stared at you, uncertain whether you were serious. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” he said, timidly.

“Oh man up, you baby,” you joked while wrapping your hands around his wrists, urging him to stand up. “Who’s to say I won’t hurt you?”

Deku chuckled nervously before following you over to the open space between your living room and kitchen. He stood for a second, thinking of the easiest moves to show you, and then he nodded, like he had fully decided.

“Okay, come here.”

You did as you were told, letting Deku guide you into the correct position. You cleared your throat, unnerved by the way his chest pressed up against your back, and his strong hands looped around your arms to lock them behind your head.

“This is a full nelson,” he instructed. “It’s a submission hold. It’s not allowed in our matches, but feel free to use it if you ever find some creep following you home.” You could feel his chest rumble with laughter between your shoulder blades.  

You nodded, feeling flustered. “Mhm.”

The next demonstration had the two of you on the floor with your arm twisted at an uncomfortable angle while Deku’s arm was situated over your rib cage. You could feel his staggered breathing across the shell of your ear, and you looked over your shoulder expectantly, waiting for him to explain the move.

Deku must have realized how close your faces were to each other because he absolutely lost his cool. He began stammering, unable to get his words out. “And this one is called the--um...sorry it’s called the--,” he breathed. “I’m sorry, I’m--I just wanna kiss you so bad right now.” His body tensed with his confession, but you were the one who made the first move.

Once Deku’s hold loosened, you leaned into him, allowing your lips to collide with his. Your mouths moved against each other fervently, and the two of you rolled over until you were on top of him with your legs on either side of his waist. Ever since a few nights before you’d blown up on Bakugo, you hadn’t been touched. Not even by yourself. You tried, but your fingers came nothing close to competing with his. You were so incredibly needy that you had to forcefully stop yourself from gyrating your hips on Deku’s crotch. He was already red in the face, and you were afraid he might collapse if you worked your ass against the growing bulge in his jeans.

You broke your kiss to take Deku’s hands, and you rested them on your chest. With Bakugo, he would have immediately taken control, driving you into ecstasy, but with Deku it was different. It was as if he had never touched a pair of breasts before. His breathing grew even more shallow as his body became rigid.

You tilted your head, slightly irritated from the lack of action, but you were more concerned about Deku’s wellbeing.

“Are you okay?” you asked, tongue in cheek.

Deku nodded anxiously. “Yup, yup, yup, I’m great. I’m good.”

But something was off, and you knew you weren’t enjoying yourself like you typically would even with days of pent up libido. You closed your eyes tiredly and released an exasperated sigh, slowly pulling yourself off of him. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this right now--we shouldn’t--.”

Deku opened his mouth to contest, but you cut him off.

“It’s getting late, you should go. I’ll see you around.” You buried your face in your hands, embarrassed at your desperation. “I’m so sorry,” you apologized again.

Deku adjusted his glasses and murmured a small “It’s fine, Y/N.” He helped you up after he pulled himself off of the floor and gathered his belongings before heading out quickly, eager to flee the tension.

Fuck, you thought. How did things get so complicated? Deku was a sweet kid, genuinely pure at heart, and you knew he wanted you from the way his emerald eyes were glued to your frame, even while you were fully-clothed. Yet he wasn’t Bakugo. He didn’t know how to work you like Bakugo did, and you felt shamefaced for thinking about your ex-boyfriend again. You mulled it over and began to question why you were stopping yourself from having your cake and eating it too.

Bakugo didn’t intend on getting back together with you, but he enjoyed the phenomenal sex, and so did you. You held so much contempt for him now, but there was no reason why you couldn’t just agree to the terms of his compact.

Exes with benefits, only now with a few additions of your own.

No dates, no flirty chatter outside of your arrangements, nothing that could potentially steer you the wrong way towards forgiving him yet again, because like you told your friends: you were a pushover, and Bakugo was a sweet talker. That was a combination destined for hell.

Your revelation was exactly how you ended up sleeping with Bakugo again. Your sex life was practically a Dr. Seuss book. The two of you would have sex in his car, in the bathroom at a bar, and you’d have sex here, there, and pretty much anywhere.

When you first called him up, he answered almost immediately, somewhat excited to see your contact after going without speaking to each other for nearly a week. After you acceded, he snorted, wondering if you were conspiring.

“Are you fucking scheming something? Cooking up some devious shit to get me alone so you can kill me? Suffocate me while I’m sleeping? You’re goddamn insane.”

You rolled your eyes aggravated. “No. Are you down, or do you wanna pussy out now?”

Bakugo agreed, and both of you managed to keep things fairly cordial. Well, as cordial as they could possibly be, given your shared history. You couldn’t care less about the differences and arguments you had when you guys were in bed. If anything, you preferred it when Bakugo was angry at you, pissed at something you had said or just releasing pent up stress that built up over the week. That only made the sex filthier.

Although Bakugo wasn’t yours, and you weren’t his, that didn’t mean he didn’t hold some affection for you, and perhaps still even vice versa. He was possessive over you regardless, even if it meant coming dangerously close to breaching the contract. Especially when he caught you one night with Deku at an on-campus movie screening in the park.

After the fiasco at your apartment with you and Deku, you apologized sincerely to him a couple of days later in class. Deku took no hard feelings to your blunder, and he nodded at the mild rejection when you clarified that things would be best if the two of you stayed friends. He reassured you that he was fine, and he was far too occupied for a relationship of any sort anyway.

But Bakugo wasn’t aware that you two had already tested the waters and decided it was sink rather than swim.

When he spotted you alone sitting on a blanket, he strolled over, wearing a sardonic grin. He struck up a superficial conversation that quickly dissipated once Deku returned with the snacks you two planned on sharing.

Your grin when Deku arrived didn’t compare to the indifferent smile you gave Bakugo when he approached you, and he noticed. His eyes narrowed at your green-haired friend as burning rage coursed through his veins.

“Deku, this is Bakugo,” you said, uninterested in Bakugo’s presence while you took the bag of sour candy Deku offered to you.

Deku smiled at Bakugo, extending his hand to exchange a handshake, but Bakugo simply slapped his hand away dismissively.

“Whatever,” Bakugo jeered, his jaw rooted, before he diverted his attention back to you. “See you later, dumbass.”

He left without a fight, but you knew he wouldn’t put the memory past him, and the following night, all of Bakugo’s anger came bubbling out. The way his brain operated was fascinating, especially since he knew that you two had no romantic commitments to each other, that’s what you agreed on, but finally seeing you over him with someone who he assumed was your new interest turned him crazed.

Bakugo held a painful fistful of your hair, pushing your face into the mattress while he wrecked you. He forced himself into you from behind, muffling your screams with the pillow while he rammed into you relentlessly. Every thrust was vicious, exhibiting the full height of his temper.

“You’re mine, do you understand that? You’re mine to touch, mine to ruin. If anyone else puts their hands on you, I swear I’ll beat them within an inch of their life.”

Bakugo hated to admit it, especially since he knew admitting it turned him into the hypocritical dick of the year, but he enjoyed having you chase after him like a lovelorn puppy. You clung to his side, and you were there at his beck and call. He’d always hated being emotionally tied down, hence his apprehension toward serious relationships, but the way you took advantage of the freedom to see other men made him livid.

“Maybe if I really did put a baby in you other people wouldn’t be such a fucking pain. What do you think?”

Bakugo’s pace didn’t let up as his grip on your hair tightened, and he pulled you upright until your head rested back on his shoulder.

“Answer me,” he demanded, dangerously.

All you could muster were broken sobs. You had never seen Bakugo like this, and you were willing to avow that after discounting your fear and pain, it was hot, and you were slightly intrigued.

Bakugo secured his hand around your neck, allowing his fingers to dig into the side of your throat, and you could feel his cock throbbing inside you which let you know he was close, but he wasn’t making any efforts to slow down any time soon.

“The thought of you with him makes me want to fucking vomit. You know he’ll never be able to make you feel like I do,” he snarled against your ear. “No one will.”

You choked out a meager “I know” while your vision grew blurrier from the lack of oxygen to your head.

You came first and then Bakugo came shortly after, claiming you by pumping you full with his hot seed until you collapsed on the bed from overexhaustion.

You realized then, through the cloudiness of your thoughts came a single conviction: that your relationship with Bakugo was an endless cycle. You’d taken every romantic risk for Bakugo while he risked nothing. That’s how you remained foolish for so long, so naive. You refused to learn over and over again, and you sacrificed yourself in the process. 

Once Bakugo threw you modest praise and disappeared into the bathroom, you gave way to the enormity of your despair. Your tears were silent and persistent until your breathing turned ragged while humiliation and resentment burned just beneath your skin.

You were smitten with someone who was bad at romance. Your love was a fairytale, but not everyone believed in fairytales, meaning that was both the birth and death of your chronicle. Fairytales were only real if you believed they were.

Bakugo continued to give you reasons to leave and seek out the love you deserved, but you took momentary bliss as your excuse for staying, like a lovesick fool or like an addict dying from overdose. You wish he would at least give you something to hold onto, like false hope or a pretty lie, but you knew that’s all you’d ever be able to do: wish that things were different so you two could have grown into something beautiful.

[gb-patch]

Ask Answers: June 6th, 2021

I’m back with more ask responses! You can also check our Frequently Asked Question sheet if there’s something you’re wondering that’s not answered here.

FAQ   Also, if you prefer to just see the main posts without all the asks/reblogs, feel free to follow our side account instead: GB Patch Updates Blog

Thank you for the patience with these questions  ♡

Hey in very beginning of step 3 in the scene where Mr.Holden had a thought dancing on the tip of his tongue but he kept it to himself after MC and Cove were being cute (idk if it makes a difference but this is when they're dating)... Can we know what he was thinking/ wanted to say? It's been bugging me lol 

He would’ve gone into a “look how much you’ve grown”, “your dad is so proud of you”, “I’m so glad things worked out with the MC”, and etc spiel, haha. But he resisted the urge to fawn on his baby boy, at least for that scene.

If we planned to move away for college/future plans in step 3, is it implied that MC and Cove would have a long distance relationship for sure? Could MC have convinced Cove to come with them? How is the dynamic of their relationship going to be addressed in Step 4, if that makes sense? 

Cove is willing to follow the MC where they went after everything is settled for them there, and if they’re sure they want him to come! You’ll get to decide how things shook out during those transitional years just by making choices about it during the opening prologue of Step 4.

Hi! First off, how does it feel to have created one of the best games when it comes to inclusion for lbtq+ peeps? I've never felt as validated with my identity and sexuality when playing a game and I'm seemingly not alone ♥ Second, and this might be a little too specific, but what kinds of drinks does Cove like as well as dislike? Thank you, you're the best ♥

Thank you for very much! It’s really nice to hear the game felt inclusive. Cove likes regular water and fruit juices/smoothies most! He dislikes coffee and cola, and he’s not super into most teas either.

Hi, may i ask what gb patch stands for? Specifically the gb part lol

It stands for my old, silly username I used in places like Neopets as a kid, aha. The company name wasn’t super thought out since it was originally just me making VNs as a hobby. Luckily, “GB Patch” kind of seems like it could mean something reasonable, so I didn’t have to rebrand when it did become a more serious, commercial group.

If we chose to not propose to cove in the step 3 dlc would he propose or would the mc propose in step 4 or the wedding dlc? 

Yeah, you or Cove can propose in Step 4 if you’re not already engaged! The Wedding DLC takes place after the engagement so the proposal scenes aren’t there.

will you guys announce if the early access for the new game is out on patreon ? 

When beta builds of Step 4 or whatever start coming out on the Patreon we will mention it here on social media too.

Heyy I just had a quick question about Baxter if that’s okay :)?

I saw in an ask+answer that it’s possible to casually date Baxter In step 3, but what leads up to that? I have the step 3 dlc and I’ve tried playing them In a different orders and ways but it doesn’t seem to get anywhere ^^;

The Step 3 DLC is Cove-based because he’s the default guy. There’s a separate Baxter romance DLC that’s not out yet. That’s where you can get him to date you. I’m sorry for the confusion!

Will we ever get any LI's or side characters with physical disabilities or deformities? I think your games would be a great place to have them in since they're always so accepting and safe! 

Yeah, we do hope to have representation for that in future projects ^^. Thank you for the confidence in us.

Is it possible to get Cove to take the bed and MC to sleep on the floor? 

Not in Step 3, I’m afraid.

So, I have played the prologue of Our Life countless times and I haven't gotten the [Your Life] achievement, why is that? 

Steam sometimes isn’t connected properly when an achievement unlocks and so it remains locked on your account. If that happens, unfortunately getting the scene again won’t unlock it. The achievement becomes inaccessible because the game thinks you already have it. Playing with the same Steam account on a different device or fully deleting your game data (more than the only the save files) are the only work arounds we’ve found.

Since when you talk with Jeremy in step 3 it's mentioned he goes on dates with someone (which assume is JB because who else would take this boy on dates) that makes him happy, does that sort of make JB and Jeremy the canon relationship in the first game?

The default for XOXO Droplets is that JB casually goes on dates with each of the jerks! Shiloh would’ve been harsher if Jeremy was the only guy getting her attention, haha. But the player can change that default by dating just one person the whole game for their own story and who she ends up with for real has no default.

Hi, hello! Huge OL fan, thank you so much for the wholesome content, it was very much needed during these times. Managed to get several people to join team Cove, so that's very exciting, I always have people to fawn over him with. I have a little question and I'm sorry if it was asked before, but does it ever come up in the game what Cove has told his mom about us? (who knows, with so many options, one can miss it) Or, alternatively, will it come up in the Step 4 DLC? 

Thank you very much for sharing the game with people <3. It’s really great to hear people are liking it. Right now that doesn’t come up in game. Kyra is willing to keep her mouth shut and Cove isn’t gonna have that conversation either. At least not when he’s younger, but yes, perhaps when he’s a fully grown big boy in Step 4 you can ask him about it.

I’ve been thinking about this ever since it has been confirmed that there would be two love interests for OL2, would there be the possibility of forming a polyamorous relationship with both love interests? I’m sorry if you answered this previously, I’m just curious. 

We are considering it, but it’s not a guarantee yet. It’d be really great to have but it’d add so many extra alterations that’d need to made, aha.

Hello! You mentioned how Cove would be uncomfortable with kids at 23, but how old would he be when he’s comfortable with having/adopting kids? (Same goes for the other LI’s.) btw, love your game!! 

He’d want to be at least 25, but even older would be good. Derek would want to have kids when he and his partner could reasonably support them, the age itself wouldn’t matter. If they were doing good at 22 and wanted kids, he’d be up for it. Or they could wait until their 30s or whatever. Baxter is also more of a “when it feels right” guy rather than having a specific age requirement. Cove is just especially wary of being a young parent because of his own parents. I’m happy you like the game!

does step 4 immediately play after you press "end summer" in step 3? or is there another button/transition (like the story text thingy) before the epilogue begins? what happens after the epilogue? roll credits? 😂 

Step 4 will have transition section always and there will be an extra button, if you own the Derek or Baxter DLC. By default the Cove-based version of Step 4 just plays once Step 3 is over. However, having the other guys’ storylines will mean you get to pick which version of Step 4 plays; Cove Step 4 (the basic one), Derek Step 4, or Baxter Step 4.

Happy pride, thank you for all you do for us🥰

I have a quick question though, I recently got a MacBook after my old windows computer broke, and now steam says I cannot download it, but it has no issues with other games, what can I do to download it?? I’m sorry if my English is bad

Happy pride month! Unfortunately, Our Life isn’t available for Mac on Steam right now. To be an approval application Apple requires having special notarization and we as a small group haven’t gotten that. Itch doesn’t care and lets us release the game for Mac there anyway, Steam does care so we’re locked out of putting the Mac build up on their storefront. Feel free to email us and we can try to help the situation out further!

support@gbpatchgames.com

Hello! I was jus wondering if the Baxter and Derek DLCs are still happening? I haven’t heard anything about them on here or patreon in a while so I just wanted to make sure ^^

They’re still coming and we just released a new sprite sketch on the Patreon for the Derek DLC c:. But right now Step 4 is still much more of a priority. Once that’s closer to being done we’ll focus way more on sharing previews for the other guys.

is it possible to tell cove you love him (platonically) at step 3 fondness/selecting him as basically family? i just love the mc and liz sibling interactions and it got me wondering about it (especially if you've selected that option)

You and Cove can be as close as family, but there’s not a specific scene in Step 3 where you say “I love you” in a family context. But there’s always Step 4~

do you intend on ever adding a collectors mode to Our Life? Like a way to collect achievements and CGs for the gallery without it effecting any save files? 

We weren’t considering it before. But if a lot of players would find that helpful, we could start thinking on that!

Sorry if it's a silly question haha, but (in crush/love) is Cove really aware of how cute and cuddly he seems to MC? If so, what does he think or do about it? Or does he just ignore it? 

He isn’t particular aware. Cove never truly stops being surprised that the MC is interested in/attracted to him, haha.

Would you say that the alone ending of xoxo droplets is worth playing again to get? 

Nope, haha. The goal is to make friends/get a boyfriend and so the alone ending is kind of the bad ending for the game. Though there is a consolation prize if you get it by accident.

Is there any possible situation which would ever prompt Pran to bake for his girlfriend? Like I know it's unlikely I mean even if JB broke her leg somehow I'm pretty sure he'd still be like "I considered baking you a cake and doing the frosting the way I think looks interesting but you don't deserve a cake, no one does." right but also ahhh it would be super nice if some day he just surprised her with baked goods one day out of nowhere. JB would be so shocked it would be cute. So is there any possible situation where that could/would be a thing that he would do? 

He might bake out of spite, like if he felt he had to prove her wrong on something. Or if JB used some good reverse psychology on him. Or he might do it in a relatively nice way if he could make his GF so shocked by the kind gesture that his amusement with that overrode his insistence on not being sweet. Pran is very difficult in high school, aha.

Is the "one route (where) it can be seen that Everett will drop his seemingly eternal waging with Jeremy pretty easily and can start getting along without thinking much on it" the Lucas route? I'm curious! 

Yep! Everett will side with Jeremy if it’s between him and Lucas.

Hi I hope you guys are having a great day :) I just had to ask how Cliff would feel about Cove's partner/fiancé Mc calling them dad whether it be accidental or otherwise and secondly I also wanted to ask how he would feel about being asked to be the one to give the mc away at their wedding. 

He would be very touched and excited! I hope you have a good day too :D

Hello! I saw an ask relating to whether Cliff "moves on" after Cove's grown up and stuff (and he stays single), but what about Kyra? Will she be with anyone else or will she stay single? 

She does start dating again, but she takes it slow.

Hi! I absolutely love the art for characters in OL and I wonder is this fine to draw my MC in same drawing style and upload online later? Is this something artists would be okay with? Thank you! 

Yeah, you can certainly do that C:

Hey there!

I wonder if I'm just being stupid here.. Is Step 4 a DLC? And if so, where can I find it? I can't seem to find it on Steam :< Thank you!

Step 4 is a free epilogue! It’s not done yet, but once it is finished you’ll just update your game file and Step 4 will be there after Step 3 ends.

hi! are step 4 and the wedding dlc two different things?

They are. Step 4 is a free epilogue that’ll be a default part of the game once it’s done, the wedding DLC is an optional paid expansion that takes place after Step 4.

Why did Baxter not receive a step 2 sprite seeing how he shows up later

Sprites are time consuming to draw and take money out of the budget that could’ve gone to other things. His tiny appearance in Step 2 wasn’t worth all the effort to make a sprite, aha.

I just realized, what happens if if you get the patreon exclusive moment but at a later date, when you don't have the membership anymore, it's updated (like a bugs fix update for example)? Would you have to get the membership again? 

You would have to get the membership again to redownload the build. But there’s very little chance there’s going to be an update once it’s been out for over a month. If a build gets released with errors, players catch/report them within the first few days. So by the time the first subscription period ends, any problems that were noticeable would already have been fixed. And we’re certainly not gonna be adding new content to it once it’s been released for a long time. There’s no need to worry about missing out on something worthwhile in the future if you cancel your membership. It’s being made with the idea in mind that many players are gonna be getting it and then going.

Hello! Wanted to ask about gaming choice in step 3? Once upon a playthorugh I got the option to buy Cove a bracelet for his graduation present. I played the same basic character again and that option wasn't there anymore. I'm not sure where I went wrong. My Cove wears a bracelet on each hand and my MC is into fashion and jewelry. Do I need to put an earring on him or? Sorry, love your game so much. 

He also needs to have liked bracelets in Step 2 for that to be considered a good gift option for him. Sorry for the confusion! I’m happy you love the game :)

Is Step 4 being released at the same time as the Wedding DLC or will the first come before the latter? Thank you! 

I’m not sure. Ideally they’ll come out at the same time, but the wedding DLC has a lot of art to get done and we may have to release it after Step 4.

Can mc still get confession from Cove at the end of step 3 even if mc casually dates Baxter in step 3? Such as in crush mode? 

I don’t think so. Maybe that’ll change, but generally there’s differences to the Step 3 ending if you were dating Baxter and those differences likely will conflict with getting the Cove confession.

For the patreon moments/dlcs, will it be available for all tiers? 

It’ll be available for tier 2 (Fans) and up!

[onecanonlife]

Wilbur wakes up one morning to find white in his hair. This is—irritating, for several reasons, but that’s all it is. An annoyance. A distraction.

There’s nothing deeper at work here. There’s nothing wrong at all.

(Or, the stresses of the presidency give Wilbur a white streak of hair earlier in canon, and somehow, this serves as the cry for help he can never bring himself to make.)

(word count: 6,249)

(first part) (third part) (fourth part)

——————–

Part Two

He tries to pen a letter to Phil. It’s more difficult than he remembers.

Dear Phil, he starts, and that’s good, that’s fine. All is well here in L’Manberg, he continues, and that’s good too. But from there, he’s stumped. What next? What does he tell him about? This is the part where he’d launch into a cute story, something Fundy got up to, or some trouble Tommy caused. But nothing comes to mind. Nothing recent, anyway. But the last letter he sent to Phil was—a month ago? Two, now? So he needs to write, because Phil’s far from a helicopter parent, but he still likes to know what he’s up to. Will still worry, if he gives him a reason to.

So, he needs to finish a letter. Needs to stop procrastinating.

He could write about Niki’s bakery. He can’t remember if he told Phil about it or not. He probably hasn’t, not if it’s truly been that long since his last missive. So he sets his pen to work, scratching out a few more sentences, and he reminds himself that he doesn’t need to be overly verbose. Phil doesn’t need an essay. Just a paragraph or two to assure him that he and everyone else are well, that he’s having fun, that he’s thriving.

Telling him about the bakery will work for that. Except, then, after a bit, he ends up writing, It eases my mind to visit. Truly, it’s one of the only places I let myself relax, and—no. No, that won’t do. That will make him sound as though he’s stressed, and he doesn’t want Phil to worry about that. There’s nothing Phil can do about it, and he couldn’t stand it if the admission led his father to think any less of him. He’s not going to—to start complaining to him. That would be ridiculous.

So he scratches the line out and continues on, except then, he writes, I worry that I’m shirking my responsibilities, but then, I’m probably doing that anyway, simply by virtue of not being, and he stops before he can finish that sentence, because, no. Simply, no. He is absolutely not telling Phil that.

He bites his lip. He’s already scratched out enough that he’ll probably need to start an entirely new draft anyway.

He sets the tip of the pen to paper.

I’m exhausted, he writes, but my mind won’t allow me to rest. Too many shadows in too many dark corners, I suppose. Too many thoughts circling. It’s like a hurricane in my head, and I should be in the eye, but I think the storm wall has caught me. I’m tossing in the air, at the wind’s mercy, and I’m afraid of what will happen when I fall.

I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know why I ever assumed that I did. And I feel afraid, because my inadequacies are failing everyone around me. I have to protect them, have to keep them safe, but sometimes I close my eyes and see everything aflame, or I see Dream and his friends flooding into the Final Control Room. We were betrayed, there. I’ve never told you this, but we all lost a life. Me, Tommy, Tubbo, and Fundy. I couldn’t do a thing to stop it. Somehow, I never thought that dying would be terrifying for me, considering who my mother is, but it is. I was so scared, and I still am.

I think I’m a disappointment. I think that if this country fails, it will be my fault, and it will only be right if I go down with it. My people have little faith in me, and they’re right not to, but I can’t bring myself to step down, because at the end of the day, I’m addicted to the power and responsibility. I’m nothing without it. If I can’t manage this, then how can I deserve the trust and faith that others have placed in me?

Most days, I think that everyone hates me. Most days, I think they’re right to do so. I can’t trust anyone. Not completely, not fully, no matter how much I love them. I feel very alone.

He stops writing. Reads it over. Feels his lips quirk up into a wry smile. He’s certainly not sending that.

But the smile fades away after a moment. He supposes that he hoped writing it all out would make him feel better, but if anything, he feels more tired. Drained. Wrung out. Blank.

He fishes around for a new, unmarred sheet of paper.

Dear Phil, he writes, All is well here in L’Manberg. The city is thriving, and my people are well. I really do want you to visit sometime—but not yet, of course! We’ve been having a spot of trouble with creeper holes lately, and I don’t want that to be your first impression. Between you and me, it’s just a little bit embarrassing.

It’s been a while since I last wrote. I do apologize for that; I don’t know where the time goes. There’s always so much to be doing, and I’m more and more thankful for this chance every day. It’s a lot of fun, having a country of our own, and we’re all working to make it as good as it can be. You should see Niki’s bakery—you haven’t tasted heaven until you’ve tasted something Niki’s baked, I swear. She’s a goddess, really, an essential pillar of our society. Baked goods make the world go round.

Tommy and Tubbo are well, and getting into just as much trouble as usual. Fundy grows up more and more every day. I’m so proud of them all.

Be careful of undead infants, and tell Technoblade I said hello, if you get the chance.

All love,

Wilbur

He sets down his pen and rereads. He’s satisfied with that, and more importantly, Phil will be as well. Now all that’s left is to let the ink dry and—

“Hey, boss man,” Tubbo says, opening the door to his office without knocking. He startles, violently. “How’re things coming?”

His heart shouldn’t be racing. It’s just Tubbo. But he came in without warning, which is—irritating. It’s irritating. That’s what it is. He feels himself flushing, just slightly, but surely it’s annoyance.

“There’s a lot of ‘things’ you could be referring to,” he says. “Are you going to be a little more specific?”

“Nah,” Tubbo says, meandering further into the room. But it’s not a regular meander, it’s a Tubbo sort of meander, which means that he’s here for a purpose. He just doesn’t want to reveal it just yet, or perhaps he’s figuring out how he wants to approach it. “Just wanted to know about general things. Big, vast things. Deep things.”

“Deep things,” he repeats, nodding. “Not much of that going on at the moment. Not a lot of deep things in paperwork.” He pulls the nearest sheet of paper closer to him; technically, that’s what he ought to be doing, not writing letters to a father that’s worlds away. He scans the words; it looks like something complicated about trade, something that sets his head to pounding already. The words swim, like they’re dancing, like they’re taking glee in the way he can’t comprehend them.

“I thought there were lots of deep things in paperwork,” Tubbo says, and he looks back up. “I thought that’s why the print is always so small.”

“Maybe,” he says.

“It makes sense to me,” Tubbo says. “Wilbur, is your hair really white?”

He freezes. “What?”

“Niki said that your hair is turning white,” Tubbo says. “Like an old man’s.”

Anger flares. He thought—he didn’t like that she found out about it, but he at least thought he could trust her with it. Thought that she would keep it to herself, that she wouldn’t let it spread to others, to others that might take it and try to use it as a knife to his jugular. But here is Tubbo, and Tubbo is so obviously staring at his hair, eyes flicking across his forehead and around his ears, and he won’t see anything. He double-checked when he arrived at the office; all of the white is under his hat. But he doesn’t like that Tubbo is looking, that Tubbo is actively trying to see, that Tubbo is treating him like some kind of curiosity, and that Tubbo surely must have some sort of opinion and that opinion cannot be anything but—

“Niki said that hair can turn grey or white if a person is very stressed,” Tubbo says, casually. “Are you very stressed, Wilbur?”

Oh—oh, fuck. Is that actually a thing that happens?

“I told her, it was a bad dye job,” he mutters, glancing back down at his paper. The words remain incomprehensible, but he’s not focusing on it. He nudges his pen with his finger, latching onto the light clicking sound it makes as it rolls and then comes to rest.

“Yeah?” Tubbo asks doubtfully. “What, were you trying to dye your hair white?”

He grits his teeth. “Was there something you needed, Tubbo?”

“Nothing I needed, really,” Tubbo answers. “I just wanted to see how you’ve been doing. Seems like forever since you came out of this office. Do you live in here now or something?” He keeps talking before Wilbur can reply, which is just as well, since he might as well live here, considering the state of his room. “And I think I’ve got a new design for a TNT cannon. Kind of streamlined, you might say, if you wanted to check it out. But I think you should just come and hang out with me and Tommy sometime. You never really do that anymore.”

He has a few feelings about TNT cannons. He doesn’t think about TNT too often, because when he does, his mind fills with fire and smoke, and his heart starts beating faster, climbing into his throat, and he wants to run, wants to run far and fast and away, wants to sit and shake until his body can’t move anymore, even when he knows very well that nothing around him is exploding, that his country is secure and his friends are safe. But some days, he can’t so much as smell smoke without a memory rising up to overwhelm him.

Once, he found himself zoning out in the middle of a conversation, a nearby campfire taking him far away from himself, and be barely returned in time to cover for his lapse.

He’s not a fan of TNT cannons, and he can’t bring himself to pretend to be, not even for the sake of Tubbo’s enthusiasm. And—

Hanging out with him and Tommy sounds nice. He misses them, he admits, and some part of him misses the old days, the first days and weeks and months on the server, when it was them and a dream and his fingers dancing on the frets of his guitar, his voice strong and steady and hopes high on the wind, words ready at his lips and Tommy a force of chaos at his back and Tubbo clever and quick by his side, and he just—misses it. Misses them. Misses it all, misses the days before so much was riding on his shoulders.

But he hasn’t the time.

“I’m sorry, Tubbo,” he says, and tries on a smile. “I’m a bit busy right now. Take a rain check?”

“Sure,” Tubbo says, and shrugs. “Later, then. You say that a lot, though, do you know that?”

He winces. Tubbo smiles. He means no harm. Probably. He thinks he would know if Tubbo meant him harm.

And then, Tubbo leaves, and the tension leaves him all in a rush, leaving him—exhausted. Exhausted, and near tears, for some reason, but he blinks those back. That can wait. He doesn’t cry in his office. That’s unprofessional; anyone could walk in on him, and then where would he be?

What was he doing before Tubbo came in?

Right. The letter. He glances it over, scoops it up, and tucks it away in an envelope. He’ll chuck it at the next crow he sees.

---

It’s Tommy who barges in next, a day later, though at least this time, he’s somewhat expecting it. Because if Tubbo knows, then Tommy knows. That is simply the way of the world. He has a difficult time imagining anything ever coming between those two, even information that would be better kept to oneself.

“Why the fuck is Tubbo going on about your hair, then?” Tommy says, with no preamble, and despite himself, Wilbur smiles. That’s Tommy, all the subtlety of a charging bull. And the question is just as irritating as it was yesterday when it came from Tubbo, but he’s more prepared for it this time. He looks up from his work—work that he’s actually doing, at the moment, and he feels rather proud of himself for it—and meets Tommy’s gaze squarely.

“I’ve had an unfortunate encounter with some hair dye,” he says. “The hair dye won.”

“What the fuck?” Tommy says, but there’s already a laugh in his eyes. Good. Tommy is fairly easily deflected, he’s learned. Because Tommy looks up to him, he knows, and that means he’ll willfully look away from any evidence suggesting that perhaps he is not worthy of admiration after all.

It makes him sick, the way he’s thinking about it. Makes him feel like he’s using Tommy, somehow, taking advantage of his affection, when really, that’s the last thing he wants to do. Tommy is his little brother, his little brother by choice, by years spent on the road together, by hushed conversations in the dead of night as the stars bear witness, by all the little intricacies they’ve learned about each other as time continues to pass. Tommy is his little brother, which means it’s his job to protect him, as best he can. He’s done a piss-poor job of that lately. Tommy only has one life left now.

So he can’t fail him again. And perhaps it’s selfish of him, but he doesn’t want Tommy to think he’s failed, either. If it ever turns out that Tommy hates him, he thinks it might kill him.

“Can I see?” Tommy asks, and he prepared for this, too, braced for it. With a long-suffering sigh, he sweeps his hat off his head and angles his face forward, letting Tommy take a good look.

“Satisfied?” he asks.

“Holy shit,” Tommy says. “How the fuck did you manage that?”

“Very impressively,” he says, and puts his hat back on. He’s sure to tuck all the white back under it. It’s a practiced motion, by now. “Or perhaps not very impressively, as it were.”

“Well, it looks sick,” Tommy says, and Wilbur glances at him immediately. He doesn’t seem like he’s lying. He seems almost—impressed? But he sees him looking right away, and immediately backtracks. “Sick as in disgusting, obviously. It makes you look old. Like an old, old man.”

Tommy’s joking, of course, is all bluster and smoke, no fire. But something in his chest stings, and he realizes that the words hurt, and more than that, they hurt because it’s an echo of what he tells himself. He doesn’t like to look in the mirror anymore—though he never did to begin with, actually—but he is well aware of what he looks like. The white hair is just one more symbol of his failing faith, his lack of ability to handle the job that he set himself out to take in the first place. He should be able to do this, and yet, he can’t, and the white hair—well.

After what Tubbo said, it can only mean that he’s weak. Physical proof of his incompetence. That’s really the only way to look at it.

“Shut the fuck up, child,” he says. “Why don’t you go and find a juice box to drink?”

“Oh, fuck you,” Tommy says, and the song and dance is familiar. Tommy rolls his eyes at him—the disrespect in this house is unbelievable—but he turns to go, and that means that Wilbur’s won.

What he’s won, he doesn’t know. Some more self-disgust, maybe. That’s what it feels like.

Lying to Niki. Lying to Tubbo. And now, lying to Tommy. What a stunning specimen of humanity he is. Working through them all like he has a checklist.

And then, Tommy stops in the doorway and looks back.

“Wilbur?” he asks. “You really are alright, aren’t you?”

And that gives him pause. Tommy’s not supposed to ask him that question. If anything, he’s the one who’s supposed to be asking Tommy that.

“It’s just that,” Tommy continues, “I don’t see you around so much, these days. Except for when there’s a problem, and you come out to try and solve it with, with your words and shit. Diplomatic shit, innit? You do that, but you don’t just—you never come to just spend time with us anymore, like how it used to be. And I just sort of miss that, you know? So I was thinking that maybe we could try and do that again, sometime soon? Just, hanging out, like the good old days?”

The good old days.

He doesn’t quite have the heart to tell Tommy that the good old days are long over, that they have been long over since the day Sapnap came to arrest them all for starting a drug empire and the forest around them was set ablaze, since the day they declared independence from the Dream SMP, since the day he in all his naivety declared that all they had to do was ignore the conflict and it would pass them by, since the day he was proven so very, very wrong. Since the day he learned that as much as he values his words, his diplomacy, his efforts toward nonviolence, some people only recognize power in iron and steel.

Since the day he watched his men, his comrades, his family die around him, and knew that he led them to that fate. Since the day Tommy traded his life and then his discs for their independence, and he knew that he couldn’t do a thing to help.

The good old days are long gone. The good old days belong to a different version of him, one that was young and hopeful and stupid, one that had no idea what he was getting into. And he likes to think that he’s still hopeful, that he still strives for a better future, but—

He’s learned. Nothing comes easy, here. There will be no more halcyon summers. The days are getting colder, and there will be no more rest.

“Sure,” he says, and this lie tastes far more bitter than all the rest. “I’d like that.” He gestures at his desk. “I’ve been really busy, but I would like to spend time with you. I’ll let you know when I can, alright?”

And Tommy believes him. He sees it in his answering smile, and he hates himself.

“Sounds good, big man,” Tommy says. “See you later then, yeah?”

“See you later,” Wilbur agrees, and then Tommy, too, is gone. He’s alone in his office, with his duties and his thoughts, and neither of them are kind.

Not that he thinks himself deserving of much kindness.

---

He waits two weeks before visiting the bakery again. It’s not completely intentional; he doesn’t have much time to get away anyhow. But part of it certainly is. He doesn’t want to come again so soon, doesn’t want to know how Niki’s going to look at him, doesn’t want her to poke and prod at something that isn’t important, that is a minor, irritating detail. He doesn’t want to discuss it, and he thinks that Niki might try, so he stays away.

But not forever. He can’t bring himself to take so drastic a step, even if his visits are a bit of a distraction. One that, perhaps, he can’t really afford.

So he steps inside and immediately wants to backtrack, because Niki’s not the only one here. Fundy and Jack Manifold are both sat at the counter, and both of them are looking at him now, having swiveled in their seats to watch his entrance. And that means he can’t leave, because if he leaves without saying anything, they’ll ask him why he did that, and he’ll have to make up something to avoid admitting that he’s been a little bit terrified of interacting with people lately. Because absolutely no one can know that.

Because it’s stupid. Pathetic. He’s pathetic, and he’s become quite accustomed to that word. It seems to live in his head now, like it’s made a nest in his brain, a little roost. Pathetic. Everything he does feels pathetic to him, and probably to everyone else around him.

“Oh,” Jack Manifold says. “Hi, Wilbur. Didn’t expect you in.”

Fundy doesn’t say anything. Just blinks at him, tail swishing. He finds that he doesn’t know what to say. But he needs to think of something, some reason for being here, and if he can manage it, some excuse for extricating himself quickly. The silence has gone on just a little too long, and he’s been standing in the doorway for a full five seconds now, and he needs to come in completely because it’s weird, what he’s doing, and they’re going to call him on it.

And then, Niki pops her head between the two of them, leaning far over the counter, resting practically all of her weight on it.

“Wil!” she says, and smiles. “I’m glad you came! I’m making honey bread, and I know you like that.”

And just like that, he relaxes. Not completely, but to ask that of him would be to expect the impossible. It’s enough.

“I do,” he agrees, and steps further in, letting the door close behind him. “Seems I have good timing.”

The tension in the air—imagined or real? He’s not sure—dissipates. Jack grins at him, raising a glass of—probably not alcohol? He doesn’t think Niki keeps alcohol stocked in here, or at least, none other than the cooking variety. Might be milk. And Fundy still doesn’t say anything, but his tail keeps twitching, and his eyes keep darting between him and the empty stool next to him, and he really hopes that’s an invitation, because that’s how he’s going to take it.

He slides onto the seat, letting his coat fall behind him. His hat, he keeps on. He’s not laying his face on the counter today. Not with other people here. He probably wouldn’t have anyway, tempting though it is. He always feels sleepier in here. It’s probably the warmth.

But he won’t fall asleep.

Niki’s gone back over to the ovens, inspecting her bread. He can smell it on the air, fresh and sweet, and his stomach twists. Has he eaten today? He’s not sure that he has. Though he definitely did yesterday—evening. He thinks. Definitely. A couple apple slices shoved in his mouth, swallowed without really tasting them. But it counts.

“What have you two been up to lately?” he asks. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Not too much,” Jack Manifold answers easily. “Mostly been hanging around Tommy and Tubbo. Getting into mischief, you might say. Nothing too serious or anything!” he is quick to add, seemingly remembering exactly who he’s talking to. “Nothing—I mean, nothing illegal, no, sir. Not us. But, you know, it’d probably be best not to share the details.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “Fair enough,” he says. “As long as it’s not something that I’m going to have to clean up later.”

“We’ve already cleaned up,” Jack says.

“Good.” He looks at Fundy, and affection blooms in his chest, sudden, almost overpowering. His boy’s grown up of late. He can barely remember it happening. It seems that only yesterday he came up knee-high, and now, he’s a man in his own right. But still his little champion, always. “How about you? I know we haven’t been fishing yet. I’m sorry—you know that’s the first thing on my list when I finally get a bit of time.”

Fundy glances away. “I know,” he says. “I’ve been fine.”

“I’m glad,” he says, and Niki saves him from having to say anything else—though why he thinks of it as a rescue, he isn’t sure—by walking back over and placing some bread on the counter before them.

“Fresh from the oven,” she says, “so it’s hot. Be careful.”

It smells nothing short of divine. Niki smiles, pleased, as Fundy and Jack reach for a piece right away, and he isn’t far behind them. Though he tries to be a little more neat about it than the other two are being. The way they’re digging in, he’d think that they’re starving. Frankly, he can’t blame them for it, not when it’s Niki’s food on the line, but he still tries to have a bit more decorum.

“Niki,” Jack says, mouth full, “you are an angel among mere mortals.” Fundy doesn’t say anything, but his tail is swishing happily.

Niki rolls her eyes, and takes a bit of bread for herself. “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” she admonishes. “But thank you, Jack.” And then, her gaze drifts to him, and he finds himself stiffening. For no reason. It’s Niki. It’s just Niki. He trusts Niki. She’s basically his best friend, and he’s comfortable here. He is. This is a place of safety, as much as there are such places to be found. Safety, true safety, is not a thing that exists, not really. But here is as close as he can get to it.

Why can’t he let himself unwind?

Is it because Jack and Fundy are here? He hopes not; that wouldn’t be fair to them. They are his countrymen, his citizens, and more than that, Fundy is his son. What would that say about him as a parent, if being around his child makes him nervous? Not just nervous in a I-hope-I-don’t-fuck-up-my-kid way, but in a I-don’t-feel-safe-here way?

But his shoulders are stiff, slightly hunched. He can’t force them down. So he has to hope it’s not too obvious, that the lines of his coat disguise the hard set of his posture, a stance that indicates he thinks there’s a threat, if they know how to read him right. Which they shouldn’t. They shouldn’t.

“How about you, Wil?” Niki asks, and he takes another bite of bread. Small, so as not to get crumbs everywhere, and he swallows before answering.

“It’s as good as always,” he says. “Do I have to say it?” Though it sits heavier in his stomach than usual, but she doesn’t need to know that.

“I’m glad,” she says. “It’s been a little while since the last time I saw you. You are eating properly, right?”

It’s concern, not an accusation, no matter how misplaced. The question shouldn’t raise his hackles. But it does, and all that’s left is to keep it from showing, to keep it from his voice.

“Of course I am,” he says, and before he can get anything else out, Jack laughs.

“Wouldn’t do to have our president starving on us,” he says, and his voice is light, full of laughter, joking. It’s a good thing that Jack feels comfortable enough to joke with him. He’s glad, because—he doesn’t know him all that well, definitely doesn’t trust him, not yet, but Tommy and Tubbo seem to like him, so it’s good that he’s fitting in, that he’s found a place, that he likes it here. Though liking isn’t always enough to stop the betrayal before it comes. He ought to keep a closer eye on him, just in case, but—that wasn’t the point of this.

The point is that, joking or not, Jack is completely right. It wouldn’t do to let his eating habits interfere with his duties. He’s already weak; is he going to add malnutrition on top of that? Never mind that he often doesn’t feel like eating, these days, that he really only has an appetite when he’s here, in the bakery. He needs to keep his strength up so that he can get things done. And he can’t force himself to sleep, so that problem is out of his hands, but he can force himself to eat.

Jack couldn’t have known what he was prodding at, of course, when he made the comment. But he takes another bite of bread anyway. It’s tough to swallow, even though it tastes delicious. He doesn’t know why. He’s never had an issue eating Niki’s food before. He hopes this doesn’t become a pattern.

And he hopes it’s not because there’s other people here. It would be an explanation, at least, but not one he likes. The implications there wouldn’t be—good, to say the least.

“Jack,” Niki says quietly, admonishingly, and he wishes she wouldn’t, because he doesn’t want Jack to examine what he’s just said, to analyze it as anything other than a joke. So he musters a smile, a quirk of an eyebrow, and Jack grins back at him.

Safe territory. Level ground, even footing. Relatively speaking.

And then Fundy pipes up.

“Hey, Wil,” he says, and Wilbur wonders, suddenly, where he picked up the habit of calling him ‘Wil’ or ‘Wilbur’ more often than he calls him ‘dad’. Not that he minds it, but it’s curious. Could it be from him? He himself calls Phil by his name more often than not. Perhaps it’s genetic. But then Fundy continues, “Is your hair actually, like, turning white?” and Wilbur is no longer interested in thinking about little details like that.

He’s tense again. Tense enough now that they can probably see it, even without looking too hard.

“Why is everyone so interested in my hair, lately?” he asks. “It’s just hair. Grows out of everyone’s head. Except for yours, Jack Manifold.”

“Point,” Jack Manifold agrees, but there is a gleam in his eyes, behind his glasses, that says he too is interested in the direction this conversation has taken. Not ideal.

“It’s just that,” Fundy persists, “it’s a little bit weird, right? If it’s turning white like that? Is that normal?”

“It’s not ‘turning white,’” he says, which might be a mistake, because he’s lying through his teeth, now. “It was a bad hair dye incident. Nothing you need to be concerned about.”

Jack laughs. “How’d you manage to fuck up hair dye that badly?” he asks, and the way the question is phrased is irritating; he doesn’t want Jack to start thinking he’s an incompetent fool who can’t dye his own hair properly. But he’ll also take this line of questioning over the other, so perhaps it balances out.

Except then, Niki splays both her hands on the counter. Any earlier levity that she had is now gone.

“Is that so?” she says. “That’s not what you told me.”

His heart is pounding again. He really, really hopes that he’s not developing a condition of some kind. He’d know if he were having a heart attack, wouldn’t he?

“I’m pretty sure that is what I told you,” he says, and Niki shakes her head.

“No, you told me that it wasn’t dye, when I asked,” she says. “And then you said that it was, but you were lying.”

She doesn’t sound angry, which is perhaps the worst thing about all of this. She doesn’t sound angry that he’s lied to her, taken advantage of her trust and fed her a blatant falsehood. Her voice is calm, matter-of-fact, and there’s a glimmer in her eyes that isn’t annoyance or betrayal or any of the other emotions she should be feeling. Instead, it’s concern. That blasted concern again.

He doesn’t deserve it.

“Really?” Jack says. “Huh. Well, what’d you do that for, then?”

He’s changed his mind. The worst thing about all of this is that there are other people present. That he’s not alone with Niki, which would still be an undesirable situation, but manageable. Jack Manifold and Fundy are both here, staring at him, expecting answers that he doesn’t want to give, and Fundy—

Why is his son looking at him like that?

“Why are you all so pressed about my hair?” he demands. “It’s hair. You don’t even see it.”

“I mean,” Fundy says, “like I said, it’s just kind of weird, right? I don’t think hair just turns white for no reason. Not unless you’re really old, which you’re not, I don’t think. So I guess we’re just curious about what the reason is.”

He doesn’t want to talk about this. This isn’t why he came here. This place, this bakery, these people, it’s supposed to be an escape from his responsibilities. The only one he allows himself, even though he knows he shouldn’t. It’s the one place where he doesn’t have to think about his own failings, where he can relax a bit and let himself be, if only for a little while, but here they are, pushing him on this, and he doesn’t want it. Doesn’t want to be reminded of his incompetency. And they don’t know, can’t know exactly what they’re doing to him, but—

He slams his hand against the counter, sudden emotion boiling over. They all jump, the three of them. Niki’s eyes widen, and Fundy’s ears press back against his skull.

“Then don’t be,” he snaps. “Leave it the fuck alone. It’s really none of your business, is it?”

There is a moment of silence. The only sound is the crackling of furnaces.

“I guess not,” Fundy mutters, and he realizes what he’s done.

He’s just snapped, lashed out at his friends, his countrymen, his son, and for what? Because their questions are stressing him out? He should have turned around and left the moment he saw them in here, no matter what they would have thought, because this is worse. This is so much worse than that, and now he feels like an absolute shitstain of a human being. What kind of person gets so fucking upset over questions about his hair?

“I’m sorry,” he says. Too little, too late. “I didn’t mean—” Fundy is looking at him. They all are, and suddenly, he can’t bear it. Not any longer. “I’m sorry. I’ve got a lot of work to do. I really should be going. Thank you for the bread, Niki.”

It’s painfully transparent, and he is very aware of the fact that it’s the exact same way that he rushed out of the bakery when he was last here. Except this time, there are more people here to witness his shame.

History repeats itself, he thinks, bitterly. History repeats itself, and it only gets worse.

But he’s not staying here. He can’t. He just—can’t. Because he feels very upset over such a stupid little thing, and he’s upset that he’s upset, and now he’s upset other people, and he can’t stay here any longer, because if he does, the gods only know what’s going to fly out of his mouth next.

“Wil, please stay,” Niki says, but he’s already standing.

“Be seeing you all,” he says, and the door isn’t far, but it feels like miles, because he can feel their stares burning into his back as he makes his exit.

“Aw, wait, Wilbur, you don’t have to—” Jack starts, but he’s out the door. He’s out the door, and he lets it swing shut behind him, and the words cut off. He doesn’t have to listen to them. So if Fundy says anything, he doesn’t hear it, and he wonders why that makes him feel so much worse. Worse than he does already, which is no mean feat.

His stomach growls. He’s hungry. How many bites of bread did he take? Two? Three? Not enough to be filling. But somehow, he already knows that if he seeks food elsewhere, it will turn to ash in his mouth. And he can’t go back, not after the scene he’s just made, so he’s going to have to be hungry. Which is fine. He’s fine. He’s fine, even though he’s just fucked everything up, and he rather thinks he might not be able to show Niki his face ever again. So, no more bakery. No more safe place, and wow, he is being a dramatic fuck, isn’t he? But he can’t help himself. He never can.

He should have known better from the start. There is no such thing as safety. No exceptions. He should have tried harder to remember that. And he’s not angry, not anymore, not really, because they weren’t aware of the hornets’ nest they were stirring up; rather, he’s angry at himself, for losing control, for letting himself react, for not being able to handle a simple question with the poise and calm that is expected of him as president.

For being weak. That’s what it comes down to. His weakness. Persistent, and now, persistently on display.

He does a lot of screaming into his pillow that night. It doesn’t help. And sleep, it seems, is determined to continue its avoidance, so the night stretches long, and even his tears eventually run dry.

---

The next day, Niki comes to his office.

[moonlit-jeno]

fifth time’s the charm? (m.)

pairing: johnny suh x female reader

genre/warnings: explicit sexual content | mentions of recreational drinking/ drugs (weed) | fluff | jaehyun being, well, jaehyun

words: 5.2k

summary: sometimes the universe aligns for you. and sometimes, it really doesn’t

1. There’s a delicious warmth between your thighs, growing with every slow grind of the guy’s hips. You don’t know his name and there’s no chance to ask, not with the way your lips are practically glued together, his tongue doing wonderful things as he licks at the seam of your mouth. He nips at your bottom lip at the same time his hand slides up your thigh, stooping just short of the hem of your dress, and you jolt, whining loudly.

He’s got a cocky smirk on his face when he pulls back to catch his breath, lips swollen and eyes dark. You stubbornly try to pull him closer, wrapping your legs around his waist and grinding your hips up more desperately. The two of you are as close together as the kitchen counter allows you to get. The muscles in his back flex under your fingertips and you’re so turned on that you think you could cry.

You’re just about to ask his name but then his lips are on your neck, leaving a trail of marks down the delicate skin. His hand squeezes at the meat of your thigh and you moan, tossing your head back and smacking it against the cabinet. A soft curse leaves you but the pain doesn’t really register, not when you’re being touched like that. His fingertips are so, so close to your core but he doesn’t dare move there yet. That spot is reserved by his dick, the impressive hardness dragging deliciously against your core.

There’s a commotion next to you and you turn your head to look, immediately regretting it. A guy from one of your classes- Jaehyun, you think- is emptying his stomach contents all over the floor. Your nose wrinkles and you rapidly tap your hookup’s shoulder, trying to get him to pull away. He does, a little confused, but then he follows your gaze just in time to watch Jaehyun throw up again, this time on the opposite side of the same counter you’re sitting on. Your arousal fizzles out and you groan, trying to ignore the wave of nausea that replaces the lust.

“Oh, for fucks sake Jae.” Your hookup groans, running his hand through his messy hair. He turns to you. “I gotta go take care of him, sorry.”

“Friend?” You ask as he lifts you off the counter.

“Best friend. And roommate. Which means I’m probably gonna hear him all night.” He sighs, glancing over to where Jaehyun’s got his face shoved under the faucet. “Thanks for this, though. It was fun.”

You smile, pulling him in for one last kiss. “Sorry we didn’t get to finish.”

He winks as he walks away, throwing a “next time, then.” over his shoulder. You watch as he rubs Jaehyun’s back soothingly, whispering something in his ear before picking him up. “Don’t fucking throw up on me.” Your hookup tells him, adding a “please,” as an afterthought. It makes you laugh.

It isn’t until you get home that you realize you never got his name.

2. You’re on the couch at yet another party when you see him again.

“I’m Johnny.” He offers you a joint and you take it gratefully, placing it between your lips. He even lights it for you. What a gentleman.

“Y/N,” You finally respond after taking a deep hit, watching all of the smoke leave your mouth and float overhead. “Nice to see you again.”

His eyes drift to your mouth when you take another hit and you let your head fall back to expose the column of your neck. “It is.” Johnny murmurs quietly, tongue wetting his lips.

It doesn’t take long before you end up on his lap, his hands grabbing desperately at your hips as you grind down, kissing him with the same ferocity as last time. The only difference now is that you’re high, you’re so, so high, and Johnny feels so good against you that you’re drowning in him.

Johnny pulls away to take another hit, tugging your mouth back to his so that he can pass the smoke between your lips. You accept it easily, loving how the burn in your chest matches the burn in your gut.

“Mhmm, if you feel this good now, I can’t imagine what it’s gonna feel like when I finally get to feel your pussy.” Johnny groans, bucking his hips up against your core. “Bet you’re so wet, so fucking tight.”

“Just for you.” You whisper in his ear, giggling at the deep groan he lets out in response. His hand makes its way under your skirt and you gasp, fully prepared to let him finger you on the couch in front of everyone.

His fingertips graze your core over the thin fabric of your panties and you whimper, swiveling your hips. Johnny’s a tease, just lightly petting your folds, not quite giving you what you want. You open your mouth to beg when a hand clamps down on your shoulder.

You jump when you realize it’s not Johnny’s hand, turning to find a very nervous looking Taeyong.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt. Uh, the house is currently on fire so we’re evacuating everyone.” He explains, trying valiantly to keep his eyes from wandering to where Johnny still has his hand under your skirt.

“Oh, fuck. Is everyone okay?” You ask, standing on shaky legs.

Taeyong nods. “Yeah, I think we’ve got it under control. But we don’t want to take any chances.”

Johnny nods. “Yeah, for sure man.”

Taeyong walks away after bidding the two of you a goodnight. You and Johnny look at each other, sighing deeply before he breaks into laughter.

“Damn, we are so unlucky.”

You groan, laughing despite yourself. “It’s unbelievable.”

3. The last time you’d seen Johnny wasn’t perfect, but at least you got his number.

Johnny texts you like you’ve known each other for years. He doesn’t bother with ice breakers- thank god, because you can’t stand small talk. It’s all memes and stories about how chaotic his day was and honestly? It’s refreshing.

Especially because he always takes the time to ask about your day, letting you rant and giving you support. He doesn’t leave you on read for hours at a time, either- you’re pretty sure the longest you’ve had to wait for a response was about an hour, and that was because he’d been in a class.

Surprisingly, there hasn’t been one suggestive message from either of you. You’d certainly been expecting it, considering the nature of how you met. But Johnny keeps everything family friendly, with the exception of a few dirty jokes and curses.

The most suggestive text he’d sent was a “hey, wanna come over and watch a movie?” But even then, you can’t guarantee that it’s going to lead to sex. You can certainly hope, but it isn’t determined.

Of course, you still shower and throw on your sexiest lingerie. Hell, you even lotion your legs.

Which you’re very thankful for as of right now, because Johnny’s got one hand up your dress and the other cupping your breast. He’s half on top of you, his lips pillowy and insistent against yours. You moan and pull him closer, tugging at his soft hair.

The movie is still playing from his laptop and you lean up to close it, reaching to set it on the floor. You’d hate for it to fall off the bed and break later on.

“I can’t believe it’s taken us this long to fuck.” Johnny huffs a laugh, pulling away to catch his breath. You giggle, tugging at his shirt to get it off.

“Hey, we haven’t fucked yet.” You remind him, sliding your hands up his toned stomach, feeling the firm muscles. He flexes and you slap his chest lightly.

Johnny leans back down to connect your lips, finally moving your panties to the side to run his finger along your drenched entrance. “Well lucky for you, I have a solution for that.”

The door creaks open before the first finger can even slide in. “Johnny! Taeyong baked us a shit ton of cookies, you want some?” You and Johnny jump apart at the speed of light, your hand flying to smooth down your dress while Johnny pats down his hair. The impact of your back hitting the headboard has you grimacing and you distract yourself by focusing all of your energy on glaring at the intruder.

Fucking Jeong Jaehyun. This is the second time he’s interrupted you, although if you take into account that it was probably him that caused the fire, it’s the third. You’re fully prepared to kill him, though you suppose you’ll spare him if he gets the fuck out of Johnny’s room.

He doesn’t.

The idiot’s looking down at his phone, so he doesn’t even notice what position you and Johnny had been in, and he somehow doesn’t even notice how both of you are panting and sitting in unnaturally stiff positions. Finally, he looks up from the device. You raise your eyebrows, waiting for him to notice that Johnny’s shirt is off and that he has multiple hickies scattered across his skin, but he doesn’t! Jaehyun smiles and lifts the tin of cookies.

“I’m okay.” Johnny says shortly. He’s holding a pillow over his lap and he looks absolutely murderous. 

“Suit yourself.” Jaehyun shrugs, wandering further into the room. “Were you watching a movie?” Doesn’t this kid know how hookups work? He had to have seen the two of you together at one of the last parties, has to know that there’s a reason you both have swollen lips and messy hair. 

“Yeah. Inception.” Johnny responds, clearly hoping that the complicated nature of the film will have Jaehyun sprinting away. 

“Oh, I love that movie!” Jaehyun drops the cookies onto your lap and clambers in between you and Johnny, excitedly opening the laptop. “Oh cool, you’re only fifteen minutes in!” He presses play.

Johnny groans. You shove a cookie into your mouth.

4. To say that you’re sexually frustrated is an understatement. 

You like Johnny, you really do. Spending time with him is fun. Texting him is fun. He’s a good person overall, and you want to get to know him better. Another thing you desperately want? His cock.

Every time you try to hook up, you get rudely interrupted. Maybe it’s a sign that you should actually start a committed relationship. Maybe it’s a sign that you and Johnny aren’t meant to be. Or maybe, just maybe, the universe hates you. 

It’s late, way too late to text him to come over, but you’re horny and annoyed and your imagination just isn’t doing it for you. Your attempts at fingering yourself are fruitless, and even though you’re so turned on that you think you could explode, you just can’t get wet. It must be a curse. Probably Jaehyun’s fault, you grumble, though there’s absolutely no way it could be his fault considering he isn’t here.

Your fantasies keep failing you and despite you having clear ideas of what you want Johnny to do to you, it’s not enough. After a full minute of consideration, you grab your phone.

[Me] 11:43pm

You up?

[Johnny] 11:45pm

Of course I am

It’s not even midnight yet

What’s up?

[Me] 11:46pm

Bored

Thinking about you

[Johnny] 11:46pm

Oh so I’m boring now

The little quip has you huffing a laugh, smiling down at your phone. You bite your lip and roll onto your stomach, propped up on your elbows.

[Me] 11:46pm

Hmm

I mean I guess I could change my mind if you prove me wrong

[Johnny] 11:48pm

You only think I’m boring bc I haven’t had the chance to show you how much fun I am

I might even be too much fun for you

[Me] 11:48pm

Prove it

It’s not surprising that your phone starts ringing, the stupid selfie Johnny had taken last time you hung out popping up on your screen. Your stomach jolts in anticipation, teeth finding your lower lip as you answer it.

“Hello?” You roll back over, shoving your pillow under your head. Your free hand rests on your stomach, drawing shapes into your skin.

“Hey baby,” Johnny’s voice is a low purr over the phone and just the sound of it has your stomach flipping, the pet name drawing a soft whimper from you. “It’s awful late for you to be thinking of me. Mind sharing what’s on your mind?” You consider it, sinking further into your mattress and drawing your knees up a little. “Mhmm, I dunno. I’d rather you share what’s on your mind.” That draws a soft laugh from him. “Oh, nothing much. Was just debating if you’d rather come three times on my cock or three times on my tongue.” The bluntness of his words has you sucking in air through your teeth, though your chest is so tight that you doubt you got any oxygen. “Oh.” Your voice is small and you may have been the one to initiate it, but you have no idea how to continue it. “Oh, fuck.” “Yeah?” Johnny laughs lowly on the other line. “Well, which one is it?” “Both.” You try to sound confident but you’re a mess, hand trembling with how hard you grip the phone.

“Greedy girl.” Johnny clicks his tongue, and you can almost see him shaking his head. “How are you going to earn it?” Your mind is blank, nothing but warm arousal shooting through you. “I-” You try to start, finding yourself unable to finish the sentence. The words are too filthy to be spoken out loud.

“Would you suck my cock baby? You’d probably like that, hmm? I know I would.” Johnny’s voice sounds breathless, and you can vaguely hear the slick sounds of him jerking off. “Would look so pretty with your mouth full. Do you want that?” “Yes.” You manage to gasp out, letting your hand find its way between your thighs. Two fingers dip into your core before moving up to trace quick circles into your clit.“Wanna be stuffed full.” A deep groan leaves him. “Fuck, I’d stuff you so full, baby. Do you think you can take my cock?”

“Mhmm, yeah, I can take it.” You moan, finally starting to pleasure yourself the way you want to. Fingers fucking into your core quickly, palm hitting against your clit. “Oh god Johnny, I’m so fucking wet.” “You sound so good princess. Makes me want to-” His voice cuts off and you hum, urging him to continue. He doesn’t.

“Johnny?” You ask, frowning at his silence. A sigh leaves you when he still doesn’t respond and you draw your hand out of your panties to pick up your phone. Your confusion turns to annoyance when you're met with a black screen and a spinning circle. “God fucking damnit!” You scramble for your phone charger but it’s too late, the dead battery symbol popping up when you try to turn it back on. 

You flop onto your bed and scream.

5. It’s been a long time since you’ve had sex, and it’s all you can think about.

Now look, you’re not unreasonably horny. You think about sex the normal amount, and it never actually interferes with your life, but there’s something about Johnny that’s just fucking you up. He’s nice and considerate and makes you laugh so hard that tears stream down your face, and you catch yourself smiling at him fondly even when he’s not doing anything besides frowning at his laptop. Everytime your phone lights up with a notification, you dive for it to check if Johnny had texted you. You’re not in love, but he’s got you wrapped so tightly around his finger that it almost hurts.

It doesn’t help that he’s fucking hot. He’s tall and strong and sexy, and carries himself with so much confidence that you find yourself swooning. You’ve gotten just the slightest taste of what he’s like in bed, but you want the full experience. The whole legs going numb, eyes rolling back, head empty experience. Preferable without any cockblocking roommates.

So no, you don’t think that you think about sex too much. Even if you do end up paying Jaehyun twenty dollars to go see a movie and get dinner so that you and Johnny will finally have the apartment to yourselves. Honestly, you think that locking him in the abandoned storage room would have been more efficient, but this is definitely the more legal option.

Johnny doesn’t look surprised to see you when you knock on his door, letting you in with a smile on his face. He dips down for a kiss and pushes your jacket off of your shoulders, hanging it over the back of a chair. 

“My baby.” He whines, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tight to his chest. “I missed you!” 

You giggle and melt into his embrace. “Let’s make up for lost time, then.” “Did you have something in mind?” Johnny pulls away a little to look you in the eye, an amused smile on his face. He brushes his thumb over your cheek and you press into the touch like a cat. His smile widens. “You know, Jaehyun’s not here tonight. We have the whole place to ourselves.”

You act like this is new information. “Oh, well then it looks like we’ll have to make the most of it.” 

Johnny hums. “Wanna watch a movie? I’ve got some popcorn waiting to be popped and some wine just begging to be drunk.”

“We could do that.” You humour him, smiling and pulling away when he leans in for a kiss. He pouts and you giggle, pressing your lips to his cheek before moving closer to his ear. “Or you could fuck me.”

Johnny stiffens for a moment and you swear he stops breathing, but then a deep groan rumbles in his chest. “Fuck baby, you can’t just say that.” You giggle and pull back to look up at him with innocent eyes. “I can’t? Why, do you not want to fuck me?” It’s meant to be rhetorical, because you know just how badly he wants you. He’s made it plenty clear. You turn to walk away and Johnny grabs you by your shoulders, anchoring you to him, your back to his chest. He brings his lips to your ear and leaves a lingering kiss on the skin just under your lobe, pressing his hips to your ass. There’s already a sizable bulge there and your stomach flips, mouth suddenly dry.

“Does it feel like I don’t want to fuck you?” Johnny asks, rolling his hips into you. “I want to fuck you so badly that it hurts, baby. Do you know what I imagine doing to you?” 

His breathing gets a little heavier when you grind back on him. “Mhmm, no. Why don’t you show me?” Johnny effortlessly spins you around and picks you up, the squeal you let out muffled by his lips. He laughs softly and the corners of your mouth twitch up. “What?” You whine, pouting at him. “Why are you laughing at me?”

“I’m not.” He doesn’t sound convincing at all. “I’m not! You’re just too damn cute.” The pout on your face is kissed away by his insistent lips and he closes the door to his room with his foot, setting you down on the edge of his bed. 

There’s still a teasing smile on his lips but his eyes are dark. You swallow thickly as he drops to his knees in front of you, the heat of his palms on your bare thighs nearly too much for you. “Will my cute baby let me show her what I’ve been imagining?”

His words have your breath hitching and your head feeling fuzzy but you manage to find the energy to nod, a shaky “yes,” passing through your lips. Johnny moves his hands higher up your thighs, thumbs playing with the waistband of your shorts. Your stomach jolts when his thumb brushes over the bare skin just under your belly button.

“I’m gonna eat you out.” There’s no hesitation in the way he speaks, his gaze determined. Your core clenches at the thought of having his mouth on you, his pretty lips and tongue working to please you. “Help me take these off?” You stand up just long enough for Johnny to tug your shorts and panties down your legs, kicking them off so that they land somewhere far away from you. And then Johnny’s pushing you back down onto the bed, palms on your thighs to push your legs apart, and you nearly scream with the anticipation. You’ve waited so long for him that you feel like you might die if he doesn’t touch you right this second. 

“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.” Johnny groans, staring at your pussy like he’s in awe. He parts your folds with his fingers, tongue coming out to moisten his lips. “You’re so pretty.” He kisses your inner thigh and hooks your legs over his shoulders, dipping down to press a kiss to your clit. You inhale sharply, and Johnny looks up at you with nothing but lust in his eyes as he begins to eat you out eagerly.

You have to throw your head back when he drags his tongue up your entrance, dipping the muscle inside just slightly before moving up to suck at your clit. It’s too much too fast and you feel like you’re falling, head spinning and feeling fuzzy with all the sensations he’s giving you. His hair is soft between your fingers when you reach down to grab a hold of it, trying to simultaneously pull him closer and push him away.

Johnny moans into your core and pulls away to smirk at you. The lower half of his face is covered in your arousal and his plump lips glisten. “Feel good, princess?” There’s a filthy noise as he spits onto your cunt, using his thumb to spread the saliva around. “Because you taste fucking divine.”

Breathless curses of his name leave you as your elbows finally give out, your body hitting the mattress only to arch right back off of it. Your hands fist in the sheets and your head rolls from side to side, your body not quite sure how to handle this much pleasure. “I’m gonna cum,” You whimper, pressing your heels into his back to draw him closer. “Johnny, keep- keep doing that, ‘m gonna cum.” It comes out as a plea, and another few cries of his name leave you before your orgasm washes over you, drowning you in the pleasure. 

The fog finally clears from your mind and you pry your eyes open to find Johnny still kneeling in front of you, licking his lips clean of your release. “Feel good?” You scoot back a little to allow Johnny room to join you on the bed. “Amazing. Knew you had pretty lips for a reason.”

“Aww, you think my lips are pretty?” Johnny teases, making an exaggerated kissy face. You scoff and steal a slow kiss from him, slipping your tongue past his lips at the same time you slide your palm over his dick, feeling the shape of him through the confines of his pants. He moans and tries to pull away but you catch his lower lip between your teeth, nibbling gently.

“I think you’re pretty. I also think we should take care of this, hmm?” You squeeze him gently and his thigh jerks. Johnny laughs breathlessly and reaches down to untie his pants, pushing them down his thighs just enough to free his cock. You waste no time wrapping your hand around the thick length, stroking him slowly. And Johnny makes such a pretty sight, his eyelids fluttering closed and his mouth hanging open. You shuffle back a little further on the bed, moving to lower your mouth to his cock, but he stops you.

“Too impatient,” He pants out, stepping off the bed and throwing his shirt off, kicking his pants to his ankles. “Wanna fuck you.” “I think I’m okay with that.” Your core clenches painfully at the thought of being filled up, and some of your arousal leaks down your thighs. He laughs at your response and reaches for a condom, rolling it on while you rid yourself of your shirt.

You throw your bra at him in an effort to get him to move faster, but it has the opposite effect. He looks at your bra for a moment before moving his gaze to your breasts, swallowing thickly. Both of you groan, but for different reasons.

“Babe, you can look at my boobs while you fuck me.” You whine impatiently. Johnny nods, tongue licking across his bottom lip slowly, eyes still locked on your breasts. It takes him a moment to crawl over to your body, settling between your legs and drawing you into a deep kiss. His dick brushes against your thigh and you wrap your legs around his waist.

Johnny’s always been a tease but you didn’t think he’d be this bad, holding what you want right in front of you, just out of reach. He presses the tip of his cock to your pussy, drags it through your folds, bumps your clit, does essentially everything except for what you want him to do. “Ready?” “Yeah, please,” You sigh, trying and failing not to sound desperate. And yet he still doesn’t put it in. He bends down to place a kiss on each of your nipples, swirling his tongue around one of the buds before moving to the other one. It has you sighing out in pleasure, and his teeth graze the sensitive skin at the same time he finally slides in.

The way his cock stretches you out has your eyes rolling back, your walls clenching around him desperately to adjust. Johnny swears and buries his face in the crook of your neck. “Fuck, babe, you gotta- you gotta stop doing that.” “I can’t,” You arch against him, the action only pushing his cock deeper. “Johnny, you’re so big.”

“You’re just too small.” Johnny quips back, but it’s lacking the normal bite. This time it sounds strained, and your stomach flips at knowing he’s just as affected as you are. “Jesus Christ, how are you so fucking tight?” He finally bottoms out with a groan, grinding into you with a little half-thrust before moving to pull out again. “Guess I’ll have to change that.” Johnny fucks like he simultaneously has all the time in the world and like he has none at all. His thrusts go from hard and fast to slow and deep, the overall effect leaving you with your head spinning and your body burning with pleasure. Your nails dig into his back and you chant his name like it’s a prayer, and he responds by fucking you even harder, sucking bruises into the soft skin of your neck.

One of his hands grasps at the sheets near your head, the other resting on your breast. He gives it a loving squeeze before moving his hand up your arm to lace your fingers together, lifting his head up to find your lips. Both of you are panting heavily but Johnny kisses you like oxygen isn’t important, messily sucking at your bottom lip and meeting your tongue with his own. He lets out a deep groan and breaks away from you, dropping his face back to the crook of your neck. His grip on your hand tightens. “I’m not gonna last much longer.” “Mhmm, okay,” You squeeze his hand back. “Touch me?” He lets go of your hand to clumsily work his hand between your bodies, rubbing tight circles into your clit. Your eyes roll and you arch against him, gasping out his name. Your orgasm is so close, you just need that extra push…

Johnny gets there before you can, teeth sinking into your shoulder to muffle his groan. His hips stutter and his rhythm grows sloppy but he keeps desperately fucking into you, fingers still frantically rubbing at your clit. He presses a messy kiss to your shoulder, moves up to your ear. “Come on, baby. Wanna see you cum for me.”

It only takes a few more of his dirty words, a few more desperate thrusts, a few more presses of his thumb to your clit before you’re coming, legs locking around his waist and nails digging into his back. He swears at how your walls lock around him in a vice, his hips stuttering again as a hiccupy moan leaves him.

He all but collapses on top of you after, rolling to the side and panting heavily. You giggly breathlessly and curl up next to him, head on his chest. His entire body shivers when you press a kiss to his nipple, and he misses the shot when he tries to throw the condom into the trashcan.

“Did it live up to your imagination?” You finally catch your breath enough to ask. 

Johnny shrugs. “I guess.” He cackles and catches your hands in his own when you slap his chest and make an indignant noise, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “I’m kidding! But actually, it might’ve been even better. We might have to try this again soon, just to be sure.” “Right.” You drag the word out in one long syllable. “Is this your way of saying you wanna go for another round?” “That depends,” He says carefully. “Do you want another round?” You laugh and shake your head. “You’re insatiable.” The air is cold when you roll out of bed and help yourself to Johnny’s closet, slipping one of the sweatshirts that you’ll ‘forget’ to return later on over your head. “But yes. Later though, I’m starving.”

The popcorn Johnny had offered you earlier gets stuck in your throat when Jaehyun barges into the apartment, the door slamming open with way too much force. Johnny snickers and pats your back, moving your water closer.

“Hey man, you have fun?” Johnny asks, only half paying attention as he tries to make sure you don’t die. You manage to dislodge the kernel and give him a thumbs up.

“Yep, nothing better than a free movie!” Jaehyun states happily, chugging the red bull in hand before opening the fridge for another one.

Johnny furrows his eyebrows. “Free? How’d you get free tickets?” 

Your eyes widen and you try to motion at Jaehyun not to say anything, but he’s as oblivious as ever. “Y/n bought them for me.”

“Oh, did she?” Johnny grins, the pieces clicking into place. He turns to look at you, grabbing your hands in his own when you try to bury your face in them. Jaehyun’s already wandered away and Johnny shakes his head in disbelief. “You had this planned, didn’t you?”

“It’s not my fault!” You whine, pouting at him. “Can you blame me for wanting to have sex with my hot boyfriend?”

“Yeah, I am pretty hot.” Johnny sighs, laughing with his entire body when you glare at him. He coos at you and pulls you into his chest. “But am I your boyfriend?”

Your face goes hot and there’s a moment of sheer panic before you shoot your shot. “...yes?”

“So that makes you my girlfriend, then.” His smile looks even brighter now. “Well girlfriend, it looks like we’re gonna be buying Jaehyun a lot more movie tickets now.”

You groan. 

[bluefirewrites]

8 and 45 for juke pls!

8. roommates AU

45. pretending to hate each other AU

SEND ME A SHIP AND A NUMBER AND I’LL WRITE A SHORT FIC

*****

Julie and Luke collapse onto their couch, both looking worse for wear. But once the door shut behind them, and ensuring that the curtains are drawn, they let themselves relax into each other.

It’s a lot of work, running around and doing what they’re doing, putting on the theatrics to keep the whole world from finding out, but it’s all the more worth it- to come home and be with each other. 

Julie groans, kicking off her boots, not caring where they land on the floor,"One day...we're gonna tell them."

Her statement’s immediately met with a scoff, though it sounds more like a pained wince, given what they just narrowly escaped.

"Oh yeah, that'd be a good idea,” Luke grumbles, tugging Julie closer to him. He just wants to bury his face into her curls and let his worries slip away. 

But Julie, ever the realist, keeps prodding at the dreaded subject. 

“Can we keep this up though?”

“Alright, but what would I say? ‘I've been rooming with the girl who's always foiling our plans’?"

Julie untangles herself from his hold and gives her super villain roommate a pointed look, "They've already met me."

"Yeah. As Julie. They don't know you're Miss Butterfly." He nods at her purple leather get up. 

"But I know them as Alex and Reggie. Not your evil accomplices. Here's to- I don't know- hoping that when they find out, that they'll see me for me,"

The ‘like you did’ is very much there even if it has gone unspoken. 

Luke has to admit, he didn’t take the news very well when he found out about Julie’s identity. 

With the life he’s led- being one of L.A’s most notorious criminals, he’s always moving around, making sure his cover’s not blown. So when he got matched up with Julie on his hunt for a new roommate, he thought he hit the jackpot. 

Works late hours? Rarely home? Friendly but keeps to herself? That way he could keep doing his job. 

Little did he know it’s because Julie was hiding a secret of her very own. 

For Julie, as reputable hero Miss Butterfly, would keep running into Dark Riff and his band of thieves on her rounds. Actually fighting him almost every night. The papers had actually dubbed them as the arch nemeses, which had been true. For a while. 

That was until, they both caught the other one trying to sneak back into their apartment, still suit up no less. 

(The fight on their balcony had been intense- kinda legendary-until they figured it out). 

They had sat at their kitchen table afterwards, nursing their injuries. At point, Julie had tossed him a bag of frozen peas from the freezer. Which was the least she could do since she had given him the black eye to begin with. 

“So what happens now?”

Luke thought that now that Julie knows who he is, she would march him to the station and turn him in. Julie thought the same. 

“Sounds like a morning conversation,” 

And with that they dropped it, and headed to their respective rooms. They spend the whole night ruminating over what happened, trying to grapple with the fact that their lovely roommate had been their arch nemesis this whole time. 

Breakfast the following morning was normal. The sight of Julie, out of her costume, making pancakes for them like usual, is enough to knock some sense into Luke. 

He likes rooming with her. And he likes the area. He doesn’t want to up and move just yet. He could tell that’s the last thing Julie wants too. 

“No one else knows?” Julie had asked him over coffee. No handcuffs, no calls to the police just yet. 

“Let’s keep it that way,” 

“For both of our sakes,” 

And so the arrangement was struck. 

They keep up their hero-villain act at night, but in the day they’re just Julie and Luke, roommates. 

Somehow along the way ‘roommates’ turned to ‘friends’. 

Maybe it started when Julie found out Luke’s background. How he and his friends had been on the streets for the longest time until they joined up with The Magician, the city’s crime boss, and began their life of crime. 

Maybe it started when Luke found out why Julie became a vigilante in the first place. To help those like her mother did, the original Miss Butterfly, until her untimely passing. 

They started to understand each other more, though Julie never fully approved of Luke’s less than legal activities. But Julie has to admit that out of her villain roster, Dark Riff may be the least rotten of them all. He’s a thief but at least he’s not like The Magician (hence his knack for making people ‘disappear’). 

And ‘friends’ eventually morphed into- well... whatever it is they have now. 

On off nights, Luke would be waiting by their balcony, ready to tend to Julie’s injuries if necessary. On one memorable occasion, he pressed a kiss to her bandaged knuckles, with a warning to be careful next time. Julie must have turned a few shades redder from that simple act alone... 

And there was another time when Reggie’s cover was about to be blown, the closest he had ever been to getting caught by the police, and Miss Butterfly had ‘accidentally’ left her knife behind, which helped him escape. 

Luke had returned the knife to her, grateful. Because if anything were to happen to his boys-

“I don’t know what you’re talking about...” She merely said, “And is it your turn to pick the movie or mine?” 

He smiled and chose Dirty Dancing. Her favorite. They end up snuggling into each other on the couch. 

Then It happened at a museum heist. Finally. After nearly half a year of them living together. When she spotted him on the roof, humming that song he’s been working on- music being his true passion, much like hers. 

And so she kissed him, the skyscrapers and night sky as their backdrop, the wailing security alarms as their soundtrack. 

How romantic. 

Another secret to keep. 

Julie knows it’s been tough on Luke, hiding this, hiding her, from Alex and Reggie- who had nearly walked in on their personas making out an hour earlier before Julie took action and swiped at Luke’s feet and initiating a well convincing fight. (They always pull their punches). 

Now they’re back in their apartment and Luke is tired.

"Look, Julie. I want to tell the guys. Really. But it's not Alex and Reggie that I'm worried about,"

"The Magician doesn't scare me," Julie assures. 

He bristles at the mention of his ‘boss’, "I know you can take care of yourself, but I don't the bubble to pop. And he for sure would pop it."

If Caleb found out that he’s with Julie, then he would for sure exploit it. Blackmail, threaten her loved ones, not to mention what would be waiting for Luke since he had elected to keep this vital information to himself. 

"Or maybe you could... leave the life of crime behind?” Julie throws out there. She bats her eyelashes at him, “Join me?"

"But being ‘bad’,” He mimes the air quotations, “is all I've ever known.” 

“You’re not bad,” Reaching for his face, Julie peels the domino mask off of him, “You’re...” 

Luke leans in, eyes fluttering closed, “I’m what?” 

“You...” Julie does the same, but as she nears, her face puckers into a sour expression and recoils, “You reek!” 

Luke pouts, sniffing his own leather garb, “I don’t smell that bad!” 

“We fought at a cannery! You smell like fish”

With a chuckle, he ignores this and wraps his arms around her. She squeals. 

“No, no, no- ew! Luke!” 

Luke takes it a step further and tickles her into submission, and so now that he’s hovering over her on the couch. 

“I guess I found out Miss Butterfly’s weakness then,” he smirks before he kisses her.

Julie’s hands weave into his hair, drawing him closer, and with a smirk of her own, still in the kiss, she tugs on the strands, making Luke gasp and pull away. She takes the opening and rolls him off of her. 

“And I know yours,” she retorts. 

Luke groans, “Not fair,”

“You started it!” She sticks her tongue out at him and points to the hallway, “Go take a shower!”

“And then Great British Bake-Off?” 

Julie smiles, “Yes.” 

“Sweet,”

They both take their turns getting cleaned up. Now, costumes off, back to being Julie and Luke again, they flip on the TV. 

“One day,” Luke says as they scroll through Netflix, “One day we’ll figure this out. And we won’t have to hide anymore.” 

“Yeah,” Julie agrees, “One day. But for now, for me, this is good.” 

“Me too,” 

credit to @lydias--stiles for their super hero/ super villain names. 

[twistedmusings]

A Midnight Prank

[Set during Chapter 5] 

Ace figured that if you were sleeping so peacefully in your bed while he had to spend a good portion of the night on the floor, why shouldn’t he try to get his revenge? A small midnight prank would be a good way to teach you about leaving him laying on the floor like that~ 

Warnings: Lime. Very mild somnopholia and food play with Ace slowly starting to realize that he might have taken a prank a bit too far. 

A/N: What better way to start this writing blog than to reveal myself as an Ace stan. I barely blinked when I first started with this game but the moment he popped up in Ghost Marriage I guess my eyes just suddenly saw the light because this boy has such yan possibilities as well as being a tease about everything. So enjoy this self indulgent drabble, I’ll see if I write more like these ò uó. 

“Oh Great Sevens…my back.”

Ace stands up and stretches, looking down at his best friend’s and Grim’s position on the floor. Of all the things Vil could do, poisoning the food? 

Well not really poisoning but cursing the food? Who the hell cursed food? Especially Trey’s baked goods?! It was a late-night snack, a team bonding exercise! To him, Ramshackle was the place he could get away with being himself without having to follow Riddle’s sometimes ridiculous rules! Yet he had just spent the good half of the night laying on the cold, hardwood floor with Deuce and Grim like some punished first year despite the fact that he was best friends with the prefect of this dorm! 

And speaking of you. 

He glares at the stairs, remembering the helpless look you had sent him as you went upstairs with Vil following short after. You, better than anybody, knew how the floors of Ramshackle were! If you had been laying on the floor paralyzed, Ace would have brought you at least a pillow!

 Maybe!

A grin spreads on his face as his brain plans out a pretty simple prank. He goes over to the chocolate cake he had taken a bite out of and scoops up some of the whipped cream frosting the cake was lavishly decorated with , grinning as he grabs  a napkin and makes his way upstairs.

“This is for betraying the First Year Loyalty Pact, [Y/N]. Get ready to get yelled at, dear manager~”

His steps are quiet on the stairs, knowing where each and every creak would be in the old, wooden stairs. It had been a while since he had pulled a prank on you, the both of you teaming up to pull pranks on others and quickly running away as soon as the plan was executed. A part of him always thought that you, the favourite of Riddle whenever you came over to Heartslabyul, would not be as on board with his pranks but seeing you come up with your own little plans as both of you hid away from your rose garden duties was unexpected and highly welcomed.

Your excited tone, the way you moved your hands. It would get Ace riled up and ready to execute absolutely anything under your orders. 

Cater had described him as being 'whipped' but Ace didn't even know what that meant so jokes on the upperclassmen, he supposed. 

He snickers as he gets to your door, praising the Queen of Hearts that it was only ajar instead of fully closed. Ace had gone over a few scenarios in his head, maybe covering your entire face with the frosting or putting the frosting on your hand while tickling your nose so that you would slap yourself. Nothing too big since he still wanted to keep his friend status with you. 

Yet his best idea had popped up once he reached the side of your bed, looking down at you sleeping so peacefully. 

"Not for long~" 

If he took a peek at the clock he could see that it was three in the morning. He guessed that Vil's curse lasted around four hours. Practice started at eight so they would usually be awake around six thirty to eat a meager breakfast and start walking to Pomefiore-- 

Which meant that if you happened to take a bite out of this delicious frosting that he held in his finger, you would wake up unable to move and miss the entirety of breakfast altogether. He would also add the extra bonus of closing your door so you would have to scream for someone to come get you. 

"Essentially two birds with one stone, right [Y/N]?" he sits down at the edge and leans over you, "Your screaming will piss Vil off so much, probably throw him off his whole morning routine. Heh, even in this scenario you are my partner in crime…" 

Ace moves to trace the chocolate on your lips, a smile on his face as he wonders just what words you would be yelling out first thing in the morning. After this maybe he should go set up his camera to record Vil lecturing you while you were stuck in your bed. 

Ah. 

His fingers weren't moving. Why weren't his fingers moving? 

"Haha...ha. O-Okay, I got this. [Y/N] say 'ahh'." 

A warm hand cupped your face as he used the one not holding the sweet confectionary, pressing his thumb against your lips and swallowing down the rather huge lump in his throat as it slowly made its way past them. Ace pressed down lightly, your mouth parting slowly as his nail scraped against the top of your teeth which allowed him to press down and watch as your mouth parted open for him. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

He was sweating, why was he sweating? A normal prank would have him smiling as adrenaline rushed through his body but this wasn't the kind of rush he was expecting. 

Ace was nervous. 

Thumb pressing against your tongue, he stopped his exploring there and not daring to go another step. He remembers back in his dating days during middle school, his girlfriend always insisted on doing the 'cutesy' thing and feeding each other. Strawberries, cotton candy, anything that was just cheesy and picture perfect enough to make him sigh in annoyance. Back then it had all just been a bother. 

But with you, why was it making him feel so--

"Augh!" 

Ace pulls his finger away, your lips still parted slightly as he grabbed his hand as if it was burned. 

Come on Trappola! What the hell is wrong with you!

You! You with your soft lips, warm tongue and inviting face that looked so so peaceful while sleeping. As if nothing would wake you! Just leaving the door open so anyone would come in and take advantage of the opportunity right before them. 

The infamous prefect of Ramshackle...looking so defenseless. 

"[Y/N]." 

Ace leans over you once again, the finger covered in chocolate this time making its way past your lips with no shame as his eyes seem to glaze over with unprecedented confidence. This was all for the sake of a good prank. Hell, he should one up it and sleep next to you tonight. You would wake up to Ace looking over you, unable to move as he teases you for not noticing his presence sooner. 

"You should really lock your door at night." he shivers when he feels your tongue lapping at his finger, "Otherwise next time I'll have to pull an even naughtier prank." 

He presses down on the slimy muscle, eyes widening when he starts getting a reaction. His finger moves up and down, tracing your tongue as your body starts to slowly respond to the attention of something sweet teasing your tastebuds. 

"Mmnnn." 

The chocolate was all gone when Ace pulled his finger back, licking his lips as he saw a faint trail of drool connecting his finger to your lips. You should have the taste floating in your mouth as your body slowly took in the curse. 

Ace barely notices himself panting until he takes a deep breath, fingers toying with the sheets covering your body as he leaned in ever closer. Maybe he should check? After all he wanted to prank you so good that you wouldn't forget about it. The thought making you squirm and open your mouth, begging him to put something inside-- 

"Ace?" 

Blood nearly rushes all the way back up to Ace's head as he hears Grimm's voice, the little creature looking at him tiredly as it floated towards him. 

"G--Grimm?! What--!" 

"My tail and ears hurt! I can't believe [Y/N] just left us there. When they wake up I'm going to--" 

Grimm yawns as he makes his way over to you, gently laying on your chest as the Heartslabyul student quickly stands up and makes his way through the door. He doesn't waste any words on saying good night as he steps out into the hall, gently shutting the door behind him and sliding down to the floor. 

What the hell did I just do? 

He looks at the finger that had done the act, staring at it as if it had a mind of its own. Your mouth had been so warm and now his entire body felt cold. Anf you weren't even aware that you had just left him feeling like this! 

Ace sighs as he runs a finger through his hair, standing up and making his way downstairs to check if Deuce has woken up. 

Not necessarily noticing how he bit at the top of the finger that had become so intimate with you. 

                                                        ~~~~~

Omake 

"Kalim? It's four in the morning why the hell are you awake?" 

Ace blinks as he supports a sleeping Deuce, the other still snoring away as Kalim smiles and places a finger to his lips. 

"I'm going to see if I can sneak in a cuddle with [Y/N]. Grimm mentioned how warm they were yesterday and I've been curious ever since!"  

"Oh, cool. Have fun then." 

The Heartslabyul student keeps walking as the Scarabia dorm leader opens the door to your room, whispering a goodnight. It was only when he heard the click of your door did he nearly drop his fellow student. 

"WAIT WHAT?" 

[anonsally]

Ineptitude in the kitchen: Muffins

A friend gave me some Hachiya persimmons from her tree. That’s the kind that has to get super soft to be ripe and edible (you shouldn’t eat one until it feels sort of like a water balloon). Now, I don’t really like persimmons anyway--I prefer fruits to have a little bit of tartness to them--and there’s no way this kind of persimmon is going to be compatible with my texture issues, so I decided to make them into muffins.

As you can tell from the title of this post, it didn’t go very well.

I’ve never made persimmon muffins before. Also, I mostly haven’t baked things that require flour since Wife moved in with me, because she can’t have gluten. My cousin (who also doesn’t eat gluten) had mentioned that she just substitutes gluten-free flour in recipes and it works fine. So I bought some all-purpose 1:1 gluten-free flour that claimed to be usable that way. 

And maybe it would’ve normally worked fine. However, the baking soda had expired in early 2020. So I should have used more of it (or, better still, bought a new package of it). (Wife also mentioned afterwards that because of the lack of protein in gluten-free flour, maybe I needed to increase the number of eggs.) 

I scooped the goopy flesh out of the persimmons and pureed it, and mixed the dry ingredients (which included cinnamon and ginger), and Wife melted the butter and broke the eggs for me and we mixed everything together as instructed. We also added fresh cranberries, figuring that their tartness would help balance the sweetness, and also this would conveniently make a dent in the oversupply of cranberries from Thanksgiving. 

We filled the muffin tin and put it in the oven. The recipe said “bake for 15 mins until golden and risen and a skewer or toothpick inserted comes out clean”.

After 15 minutes, they had risen a little, but they completely failed the toothpick test, so I put them back in the oven for, I think, another 7 minutes.

At that point, they still didn’t really pass the toothpick test, so I left them in at least another 5 minutes, but probably closer to 10. So they’d definitely been in the oven about twice as long as the recipe said.

At that point, they were sort of golden, and toothpick came out with a few crumbs on it and I decided that was probably close enough.

Spoiler: it wasn’t.

After they’d cooled for about 30-40 minutes, we tasted them. The tops were delicious, but they were really completely uncooked on the inside. They likely hadn’t risen as much as they should’ve due to the old baking powder, which meant there wasn’t enough air inside to cook the batter.

Wife covered them in foil and we put them back in the oven at a lower temperature, for fully a half hour. 

(While they were in the oven, I took the uncooked bits of the ones we’d tasted, and fried them in a pan, flattening them to try to get them to cook all the way through. This took longer than you might expect, and they tasted okay but not fantastic.)

Then I took the foil off the ones in the oven and let them bake for another 20 minutes. 

At this point we are up to at least 1.5 hours of baking for a thing that should have been ready in 15 minutes. 

I took them out. The toothpick came out clean.

I let them cool. 

Wife tried another one. It was still uncooked on the inside. She ate the top of that one, and the tops of two others.

Meanwhile I put the rest back in the oven with some foil resting on top for some amount of time (forgot to turn on a timer).

And then another 10 minutes after that, without the foil. I suspect they have spent at least 2 hours in the oven, though not uninterruptedly.

The insides are still not cooked.

I give up.

The tops taste good, but this was a lot of effort put in for not very much edible output. 

Tomorrow this might feel more like a funny story, but right now I just feel like a failure.