#wc: 491

[bechaerin]

✦ * ·  ˚ TAKE A CHANCE 003: SPECIAL LESSONS.

when she was first called aside for the personal conversation, chaerin was absolutely certain that she was being cut. what other reason could there have been for someone seeking her out? especially when that person was a trainer that she rarely got to see around. 

every time she replayed that scene in her head, she got the chills, and she was glad beyond words upon learning that it was nothing of the sort. the little speech she received was actually quite shocking. although he had told her not to think much of it other than the company trying to check up on her potential, she couldn’t help but grasp at the little string of hope that this meant that lime was continuing to see something in her. while she may have begun her trainee life by coincidence and more on the whim, she was wanting more and more every single day to eventually debut. there was a passion inside of her that chaerin didn’t know existed until she began training. 

stepping into her first lesson, she quickly learned that this really was a special lesson. there were a few other familiar faces, the same ones that she saw the trainer approach that day, and the training began right away. a quick lecture on why lime thought so highly of great performers and the importance of knowing how to own the stage. all things that may fly over the heads of many trainees as they continue to train. 

frankly, days of training all ended up looking similar after a while. the days consisted of the same routine, and she could see why this little wake up call in the form of a lesson would be a good idea to have. seeing that chaerin was approaching half a year herself, there were moments where she’d lose motivation and go on with her day like it was a chore. 

there was also much more individual focus throughout the lesson. a trainer right beside her to point out exactly what she needed to work out, what she was doing well with and how much she could improve on if she put her time into it. while they were mostly points that she was already aware of, chaerin couldn’t deny that it was still very helpful.

before she knew it, the lesson was over. it was only the first day, but it was a good preview of what was to come with the next ones. today they had focused on the basics, and she’s sure as time passes, they’ll be critiqued more heavily and given harder pushes. nothing she isn’t used to, of course, and she’s almost excited for the next lessons that are to come.

they were a nice breath of fresh air from her regular routine, and she makes a note to herself to not always be so scared when someone approaches her. the next time, who knows? maybe it’ll be even better news.

[haikyu-mp4]

I want one – Suna x reader wc 491 – f!reader

When babysitting Osamu’s twins for a weekend, you had expected Suna to get a little baby fever. You hadn’t spoken about children in a while, but you both love it when cute kids come up on your nightly TikTok scroll and both agreed you wanted them eventually.

Osamu’s twins were adorable and you felt the baby fever heating up only on the first day.

What you didn’t expect was for Suna to rush into the bathroom where you were brushing the girl’s teeth, the boy under his arm and a bright grin on his face. “These are amazing, I want one. No, I want four.”

You blinked at him, the little girl by your side doing the same in confusion.

Suna made an incredulous sound and pointed at her. “Those too!”

Your jaw dropped and you covered the poor girl’s ears as a joke, using a nod of your head to gesture to the boy in Suna’s arms. “What did he do? Also, why are you carrying him around like a sack of rice?”

The boy held up a Hot Wheels car and shrugged his shoulder as best as he could. “We were just playing with my toys.”

When the twins had gone to bed, you found Suna in the kitchen doing a pretty bad job with the dishes. Clearing your throat made him look over his shoulder and speak his mind. “Is eight too many?”

You snickered and snuck your arms around his waist, leaning your cheek on his muscular back. “Definitely. Maybe three?”

Suna sighed and shook the water off his hands, seemingly deciding to leave the rest of the dishes for now. “Can you imagine helping our own daughter brush her teeth? She looks like both of us and either takes after our hobbies or loathes them?” he ranted, using his hands to gesture in the most nonsensical way.

The thought made your heart flutter, actually taking the time to consider that image. “She’ll be such a brat, being your daughter.”

“She’ll be so cool!” he exclaimed in presumed agreement. “And imagine our son, he would gather blackmail on his iPad and use it to make his sister help him out of trouble. That’s what I did at least.”

“Both will be brats.”

His shoulders started slowly sinking into their normal hunch as the enthusiasm lulled. “I want to make humans with you and see who they turn into. Watch them grow and make terrible decisions while figuring themselves out. I want to be there for them in a way I can’t when I’m just borrowing Osamu’s.”

You caressed his cheek, letting your thumb graze his cheekbone comfortingly. “You are such a weirdo. And our kids will be even weirder.”

“All eight.”

“All three,” you corrected him.

“Three sets of twins.”

“Slow down cowboy, one at a time.” He looked at you with so much adoration, until his eyes turned more mischievous.

“One at a time. Let’s start right away.”

masterlist

this is entirely self-indulgent.

[xotoru]

Final Project

Synopsis: by “coincidence” you get partnered with your year long crush for your final project, unfortunately he's not to keen on well...anything.

Warnings: wc;491 , light swearing, fem!reader, writing after slide 9

Chapters: 1 ... more to come soon

You knocked on his door quickly. The cold breeze of the empty hallway sending a shiver down your spine as you waited for him to answer the door. Eventually the door opened again and you were met with a wet haired Bakugo. He had a black tank top on and some low hanging grey sweats, had he already had time to take a shower?

“Come in...” he said slowly. The taller boy moved to turn and walk back into his apartment. You followed him into the place you had just been in less than an hour ago. The faint smell of cinnamon lingered in the front doorway as you stepped in. He grabbed the hoodie and your keychain from the counter. whole he moved to grab the stuff you couldn’t help but notice the way his back muscles flexed deliciously. You quickly blinked away your thoughts as he turned around to hand you the stuff. “Here ya go.” he grumbled.

Then just as if the world was on your side, rain began to fall heavily outside. You caught the weather from the window ahead of you in his dorm and he seemingly did too, turning as he heard the heavy droplets hit the balcony. “shit...” you mutter under your breath. There was no way you could walk home in this weather. You would be soaked and would probably end up sick!

You could almost see the gears in his mind turning as you looked between him and the window showcasing the outrageous weather behind him. You bit your lip nervously as he went to speak. “You can stay the night if you want...” he spoke begrudgingly. It was strange how nonchalant he was about the whole thing, but you didn’t mind. head moving to nod a quickie before you could even think much about it.

The rest of the night wasn’t as blissful though. The rain didn’t stop Katsuki from going to the gym. so you were left in his apartment alone. In the time you were left on the couch, flicking through Channels and playing with his cats, you couldn’t shake how he had been so comfortable. up until now he said no more than words to you and couldn’t care if you lived or died, and now he was letting you stay the night? It was all just so bizzare. Your train of thought is quickly cut short when you feel a tiny orange paw slapping your hand lightly on the edge of the couch. 

You smile down at his silly looking cat. Petting its head before getting up from the couch and heading to the kitchen to search for the treats. They weren’t very hard to find and you made sure not to skimp out on the little fur baby, giving him 3 treats which you were awarded with small rubs on your leg. Maybe the whole situation was bizarre, but that didn't necessarily mean it was bad

a/n: trying something different, hope you guys like it x3

[coyotelip]

starchaser microfic: hide || @into-the-jeggyverse || wc: 491

“I'm sick of hiding,” is the first thing Regulus says to James as soon as the door closes behind him.

It's not typical for him to start their meeting with a conversation when they can finally put their hands and lips on each other, so James raises his eyebrows in surprise. He pushes his glasses back up on his nose, which he had moved out of the way beforehand, so that he can see the face of the guy in front of him clearly.

And this face is as gorgeous as ever, but at the same time reflects irritation and anger in the form of red spots on Regulus' cheeks.

“Oh, hello, love?”

Regulus doesn't linger at the door and, to James's delight, takes three wide strides over to him on the couch and sits on his lap. The boy's hands are wrapped around his neck, but his fingers are gripping his hair tighter than usual.

Regulus fidgets a little on the boy's lap, daring to say, “I want them all to know,” and hopes that his eyes reflect determination rather than anxiety and insecurity.

James's arms tighten around his waist in a reassuring grip and he smiles softly, “You need to be a little more specific, Reggie.”

Pressing his lips together, Regulus closes his eyes, but the images of a bunch of girls at the Quidditch trophy stand only come back to him more clearly. Pressing shoulders to each other, they read out loud the names of the new star players, commenting on how fitting they find them. And Regulus was unlucky enough to be there at the exact moment when a fifth-year girl sighed dreamily as she said James Potter's name, and the others hurried to agree with her.

A part of Regulus purred pleasantly because everything the girls said was true and he was lucky enough to know it from his own experience. But the other part of him wanted to bare his teeth and claws when he heard that the group was going to roll the dice for the order in which they would use their luck to invite James to Hogsmeade.

After that, Regulus' steps quickened and he couldn't stop himself until he was here, on James' lap with his arms around him. Finally feeling himself in his place, the boy sighs tiredly and puts his head down on his shoulder, realizing how stupid he is.

But he says anyway, “I'm tired of everyone around you treating you like a bachelor they can hit on. As if they have a chance. They make me think of… violent actions.”

And Regulus didn't like that sometimes little dark curses came to mind, that it would be so easy to unleash them on a crowd of stupid fifth years.

James laughs softly at him, hugging him completely and holding him close. “Oh, who would have thought that between the two of us, you would actually be the most jealous.”

[hugs2doie]

hi !!! could u do a haech scenario based off round&round? i luv ur stuff sm !!!!!

round&round. — l.d.h

PAIRING. haechan x gn!reader

GENRE. idk cutesy, js haechan being whipped ngl

WC. 491

NINI’S NOTE. haechan??? my ult?? with round&round??? one of my fave nct dongs rver??? u want me so bad anon.. AND I LOVE U TOOO. fid this at 3 am and i dont yhink its proofread… not v proud kf this but i jope u liekk it 💞💞 (turn on light mode for the banner to look prettier 😓)

“smile a bit!” you had told haechan with a big smile of your own, as you were holding his phone up, ready to take a picture with him.

but if only it was so easy for haechan to stand close to you without feeling his heart beating faster than the speed of light.

his pretty brown eyes bore into yours in nervousness after you scolded him, but he nevertheless stood closer to you, and slowly threw up a peace sign and a small smile.

“say cheese!”

and just like that, the picture that he was looking at with the goofiest and biggest grin ever on his hand, was taken.

he wasn’t even looking at himself in the picture, he was looking at you.

you and your stupid smile that got him feeling like he’s a little boy who just got his first ever crush. you who made him feel like he was so close but so far away from you. you who made him scared to make the first move, because you’re just friends, what if you reject him? but also you, who makes him the happiest man with just throwing a glance on his way.

he wasted his time today again. and before he knows it, it’s 2:30 am.

2:30 am.

he’s been tossing and turning under his bed sheets for a while trying to sleep, yet both his heard and brain won’t let him. what is wrong with him? he simply wanted to have a nice night sleep, and not think about his stupid teenage-y boy crush on his friend, those were for kids anyways.

but no matter how hard he tried, thoughts of you just won’t leave him alone.

did he seriously have to be so pathetically in love with you? his friends have called him a loser multiple times ‘cause of this but he just can’t see why. i mean, it’s not like he’ll confess and then boom you’re dating! it’s more complicated than that, a lot more.

he just didn’t want to lose you. a simple confession between friends can ruin the whole friendship.

his overthinking was really eating him up this late at night.

you really were his everything. you were his sun and he was just the earth orbiting, and always wandering around you. he’d seek for you everywhere, but sometimes he’d think if you’d feel the same. i mean you have said a couple of “i love you”s, but those were just in the friendship way, right?

he needs you deeply. it’s like he’s a drug addict and you’re the drug.

at this point he’s surprised you haven’t figured out he likes you. the poor boy stutters and avoids eye contact with you all the time.

but he can’t help but be obvious when it comes to you.

he wasted his time yet again today,

but who knows,

maybe tomorrow he won’t.

[maivolpe]

sorry I didn’t see what you don’t right for :(. I swear I wouldn’t have sent that tasm ask if I didn’t know.

Could you write headcannons for tasm! Peter with a reader who hasn’t had a bf b4? And he’s all flirty and suggestive;)

Again sorry for sending that ask

you’re totally okay! i think i literally put those up at the same time as you requested so absolutely no worries! also i struggle a bit with the hc format so i’m just gonna do a blurb if that’s okay :) thank you for requesting ♡

･｡ﾟ: ∘◦☾◦∘｡ﾟ.

pairing: tasm!peter parker x reader cw: cursing wc: 491

“whatcha readin’?”

you jumped, quickly closing your book, unaware that someone had been hovering over your shoulder. a quick glance backwards confirmed that it was none other than peter parker himself.

“ever heard of personal space, parker?”

“nope,” he said, popping the p. he pulled up a chair, sitting down next to you.

“you almost made me lose my spot, you jerk.”

he shrugged, pressing his lips together in an unapologetic line.

you pinched the next page between your fingers, doing your best to avoid his gaze. it wasn’t that you disliked him— frankly, it was quite the opposite.

peter parker had an effect on you. it was like nothing you’d ever experienced. without even trying, he could say things that set your heart aflutter, could do things that made you weak in the knees. he meant it all, too, like nobody else had ever before.

but you’d be damned if he was gonna get to you this time. you were going to hold your ground today.

he cleared his throat, startling you out of your thoughts.

“i bet i’m more interesting than whatever’s going on in that book.”

you felt your cheeks warm, though whether it was with annoyance or endearment you couldn’t say. you chose to ignore the comment, instead lifting your book to hide the smile playing at your lips. he noticed, eyes narrowing as he leaned toward you.

he was close. you felt the heat from his breath, catching a whiff of coffee and something that smelled burnt. your eyes traced along the curve of his lips, the slant of his nose, until you met his eyes.

there was a curiosity, a sort of hunger hidden in them. he looked at you like you were a case he wanted to crack.

“what are you hiding?”

“i’m not hiding anything!” you sputtered.

he smirked at your loss of composure. “sure looks like you are. i can see the wheels turning in that pretty head of yours.”

your stomach flipped at his boldness, at how easy it was for those words to slide off of his tongue. you leaned back, breaking the tension between the two of you. “well, you’re wrong.”

he raised his hands in mock defeat. “alright, alright.”

“what are you even doing here in the first place?”

peter grinned cheekily, leaning back in his seat. “it’s a library. flash wouldn’t be in here if his life depended on it.”

“you’re right about that,” you giggled.

his eyes, soft and brown, flashed with pride. “so you admit it!”

“admit what?”

“that i’m right about something!”

you chuckled. “whatever makes you happy, parker. now be quiet and let me read my damn book.”

he was silent for all of two seconds before leaning toward you again.

“reading is kind of an overstatement, don’t you think?” he whispered.

you arched an eyebrow at him.

“well, it’s just that you’ve been on the same page since i got here.”

“peter!”

･｡ﾟ: ∘◦☾◦∘｡ﾟ.

ko-fi ♡

[svynie]

This Year.. Maybe

Chapter 1: April 10 - So Close Yet.. So Far

5YNOPSIS: As fourth year begins, Kazuha steps into his sudden role as class president. But when a familiar presence enters the classroom, his carefully built composure wavers. A brief, awkward exchange during seating arrangements brings back a memory from two years ago.. a moment that changed everything for him Tags: KAZUHA X READER... not yet, fluff, modern au, high school setting in Inazuma, TOMO'S ALIVE! (i know that's not his actual name..) Heizou and Beidou Appearance, Unrequited Love/Pining (for now), reader's action is written as - You did this bla bla bla, Use of [Y/N]

WC: 4, 491

A/N: This was originally intended to be a oneshot, but as I started writing more, I found there were too many scenarios I wanted to explore.... So, I decided to turn it into a series instead! This chapter was the original oneshot, with a few added details and adjustments!! - anyone else want to be tagged..?

The morning sun peeked through the pale curtains of Kazuha’s room, dappling the wooden floor with light. The faint rustle of cherry blossoms outside blended with the distant chirping of birds, creating a serene melody.

Kazuha stirred under the soft covers of his futon, blinking groggily at the sunlight filtering through pale curtains.

“HEY! Kazuha!” Beidou’s voice rang out from downstairs, full of its usual lively energy. “If you don’t get up soon, you’re gonna be late! Dont make me drag you!”

Kazuha groaned, sitting up and trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. “I’m up..!” he called back, though the lethargy clinging to his limbs said otherwise.

He shuffled toward the bathroom, splashing his face with cold water in a bid to wake himself fully.

His reflection stared back at him, hair disheveled, crimson eyes half-lidded still lingering sleep.

By the time he stepped into the shower, the cold water immediately woke up his mind.

He lingered longer than usual, letting his thoughts drift.

Today was the start of his final year in high school.

The idea brought a strange mix of anticipation and unease, but one thought stood out above the rest: You.

Your name had been in the same class as his.. Class 4-B

Kazuha’s heart quickened as he recalled seeing it, placed among his future classmates. After years of fleeting glances and quiet admiration, fate had placed you in the same class...

Was it a sign? Or perhaps just a cruel trick to test his resolve?

He sighed, stepping out of the shower and toweling off. He dressed with practiced efficiency, smoothing the crisp fabric of his uniform and tying his hair into its usual loose ponytail.

Downstairs, the aroma of grilled fish and steamed rice greeted him, and Kazuha’s stomach growled in appreciation.

Beidou was already seated at the table, leaning back in her chair with an air of casual confidence. “Finally decided to grace us with your presence, huh?” she teased, grinning as Kazuha slid into his seat.

“You’re up early,” Kazuha replied, helping himself to a serving of rice and miso soup.

“Had a shipment to oversee at dawn...” Beidou said, waving a hand. “But I wouldn’t want to miss seeing my kid off on his first day back.”

Kazuha’s lips curved into a faint smile. Beidou wasn’t one for traditional displays of affection, but her pride in him was evident.

As they ate, she leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “So, what’s the plan this year, Kazu? Flying under the radar like always?”

Kazuha paused, chopsticks hovering mid-air. “Something like that,” he said lightly, though his thoughts were anything but simple.

Beidou raised an eyebrow but didn’t push.

Instead, she smirked. “Well, don’t let ’em push you around. You’re a Kaedehara, after all! Go make a splash!!"

He chuckled softly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

After breakfast, Kazuha shouldered his bag and made his way to the door. Beidou followed, leaning against the frame as she watched him slip on his shoes.

“Good luck, kid,” she said, ruffling his hair as he straightened.

Kazuha glanced back, his eyes soft. “Thanks, Mom.”

The air was crisp and refreshing as Kazuha stepped outside, his satchel slung loosely over one shoulder. The cobblestone path that led to the heart of Inazuma City were now covered with the petals of the sakura trees. Each step he took stirred a few fallen petals into the air.

For most, this was simply another school day.

But for Kazuha, it felt like something more.

The idea of starting his final year was enough to make him reflect.. about everything.. but knowing that you would share his classroom this year had sent his emotions into overdrive.

The streets bustled with life as merchants opened their stalls and mothers ushered their children along. Kazuha weaved through the familiar sights.

As he passed by the riverbank, he couldn’t resist pausing for a moment. The gentle ripple of the water reflected the cherry blossoms overhead, and for the briefest of moments, Kazuha felt his heartbeat to steady.

But the memory of seeing your name on the class roster made his pulse quickened when he’d first spotted it. His lips quirked into a faint smile as he recalled.

[Y/N].

In Class 4-B.

With me.

It wasn’t as if you’d never noticed him before—you’d exchanged polite nods, once or twice—but this year felt different.

The proximity, the potential for interaction, and the possibility to finally close the distance between you—it was both exhilarating and terrifying...

As the school gates came into view, his stomach churned with nervousness. Students in their uniforms crowded the courtyard, their chatter blending into a harmony of excitement.

Kazuha slipped through the crowd, trying to mask his inner storm of emotions under his calm exterior. His destination was the bulletin board, where students gathered to confirm their class placements.

The board was covered in lists of names, neatly organized by class and year. He moved to the front, his heart beating just a little faster with each step. As he stood there, the names on the list blurred together for a moment—until he found it.

1. Kirara 2. Kuki Shinobu 3. Shikanoin Heizou .............

His gaze flickered from the first name to the last.

Kirara’s name made him smile a little, thinking of her playful, hardworking nature, always so full of energy.

Kuki Shinobu’s name, though, was a comfort—her sharp mind and calm demeanor were qualities Kazuha appreciated.

Then, of course, there was Shikanoin Heizou, with his tendency to be both mischievous yet quick-witted, he was the type of person who could get away with anything with just a wink and a smile.

But it was the last name that truly made his heart skip 7. Kaedehara Kazuha 8. [Your Name]

His fingers hovered over the list, still not quite believing it. There you were, placed right beside him in Class 4-B.

The sheer coincidence—could it be? Was this some sort of sign, or was it just luck?

He blinked, trying to steady his breath, but all the excitement and nerves seemed to rush into him at once.

In that moment, Kazuha allowed himself a soft, fleeting smile that no one else would notice, but it made his heart feel lighter.

He stepped back to let the next student through, slipping his hands into his pockets as he made his way toward the classroom, his heart warm with anticipation.

By the time Kazuha reached Class 4-B, the classroom was already beaming with excitement as students were catching up on their vacations, gossiping about the summer, and speculating on what this year would bring. Some were still settling into their seats, others chatting with familiar faces.

As Kazuha settled into his usual seat by the window, he couldn’t help but notice the gentle rustle of the curtains in the breeze. The room felt alive with promise...

His gaze drifted lazily toward the front of the classroom, and for the briefest moment, his mind wandered to other matters—the sea breeze, the distant rustle of leaves, and the soft hum of nature just outside the classroom walls.

It was a familiar feeling, like the world outside was calling him, reminding him that there were places beyond this room.

But today, everything felt heavy with anticipation, tethering him here.

His fingers lightly traced the edge of his desk as he waited for the bell to ring, the subtle pulse of his heartbeat was now an erratic drumbeat in his chest.

Finally, the door creaked open, and in walked Mr. Takahashi, the homeroom teacher.

"Good morning, Class 4-B!" Mr. Takahashi greeted, his voice steady and authoritative.

He was the.. sort of teacher who commanded attention without needing to raise his voice, a quiet confidence in his demeanor that immediately settled the room.

"Let’s get started."

As he walked toward the front, there was a palpable shift in the air.

The students, who had been chatting away moments ago, began to quiet down, eyes turning towards the front.

Kazuha felt the familiar stir of unease in his stomach, the sense that something was about to happen—something he couldn’t quite control.

Mr. Takahashi cleared his throat to get everyone's attention, "Before we get into the schedule for the year, there’s something we need to address. It's time for our class officer elections."

A collective groan echoed through the room, the sound of students who didn’t particularly care for responsibilities.

Then, there was a moment of silence as everyone waited for someone to take the initiative. After all, the elections was never something people eagerly volunteered for—it was just a formality, a necessary duty to get through the year.

Kazuha, ever the quiet observer, leaned back in his chair, his hands on his lap. He wasn’t particularly concerned about the election.

He’d been elected in other class officer roles in the past without much fuss.

It wasn’t also that he disliked it... it was simply that he preferred to lead quietly, from the background.

He had never been one to demand the spotlight.

"Alright, well then.." Mr. Takahashi continued, breaking Kazuha’s thoughts, "Let’s get started. I’ll open the floor for nominations. Who would like to volunteer for the position of class president?"

Silence.

Kazuha’s gaze shifted, taking in the faces of his classmates. No one seemed eager to take the lead, and the air was thick with reluctance.

His thoughts began to drift again, as they often did. He didn’t mind being the class president, but the position came with expectations.

Expectations that made him a little uneasy.

He wasn’t about to nominate himself too.

He wasn’t particularly sure that anyone else would nominate him, either. He had always been more of a quiet leader, stepping in when necessary but never pushing himself forward.

The minutes ticked by, the only sound in the room being the occasional rustle of a student shifting in their seat.

Then, unexpectedly, a voice pierced the silence.

"I nominate Kaedehara Kazuha!"

Kazuha’s eyes widened, his body stiffening in surprise. He turned toward the back of the room, where the voice had come from. Tomo—one of his closest friends—was grinning widely at him, hands raised in a mock salute.

"I SECOND THE NOTION!" another voice chimed in, Heizou's...

Kazuha blinked, his mind racing. He hadn’t anticipated this.

He hadn’t even thought to volunteer, much less be nominated so quickly. The idea of being class president was one thing, but having it thrust upon him in front of the whole class was... different.

He glanced around the room, his eyes scanning the faces of his classmates, most of whom were already looking toward him with varying degrees of curiosity.

A wave of heat crept up his face. He wasn’t entirely sure why his heart rate had picked up so suddenly. It was just an election, after all.

And yet, there was something about the way they were all looking at him now that felt... he wasn’t sure how to explain it.

Mr. Takahashi glanced over at him, eyebrows raised. "Well, it seems we have a nominee." He looked toward the class. "All in favor of Kaedehara Kazuha as class president, raise your hands!"

Kazuha didn’t move.

His gaze flicked from hand to hand as they shot up around the room—some with enthusiasm, others with casual indifference.

But then, in the middle of it all, he saw it.

Your hand.

You were raising your hand..

Kazuha’s heart skipped a beat, and he had to take a sharp breath to steady himself.

He hadn’t expected that.

The warmth of your gesture, the way your fingers moved so naturally in the air, felt like a soft reassurance.

He wasn’t sure why it made him feel like his entire world had shifted just a little.

When the votes were tallied, Mr. Takahashi nodded. "Looks like it’s unanimous! Kaedehara Kazuha, is now our new class president."

The class broke into applause, the sound echoing in his ears. Kazuha stood up, feeling the weight of everyone’s eyes on him. It wasn’t that he hadn’t held leadership positions before—but this time, it felt different.

This time, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more at play than just being the class president.

As the applause died down, Kazuha cleared his throat, raising his hands in an effort to calm the room. "Thank you," he said, his voice steady despite the churn of emotions inside him. "I’ll do my best to make this year run smoothly."

He tried not to let his nerves show, keeping his gaze steady as he surveyed the class.

It was only when his eyes caught yours again, the soft smile on your lips, that he felt a sense of calmness..

After the election concluded and the classroom settled into a familiar rhythm of idle chatter, Mr. Takahashi waved Kazuha over to the front desk. A neat pile of name cards lay waiting, along with a seating chart template.

“As our esteemed class president,” Mr. Takahashi began with a playful grin, “you get the honor of helping me decide everyone’s seating. and if you can avoid putting people with, uh, ‘history’ near each other, you’ll have my eternal gratitude."

“Understood, sir.” Kazuha chuckled lightly, though he felt an almost absurd level of responsibility. It wasn’t that assigning seats was difficult... it was the knowledge that where people sat might define their year.

Would friendships blossom? Would rivalries form? Would someone sit beside someone they secretly admired?

Would he...?

As he flipped through the cards, your name appeared.

It stood out.

Not because the ink was bolder or the letters more elegant, but because it carried a weight only he could see...

His fingers lingered on it for a heartbeat too long before he gently placed it down.

He began filling the chart, hoping to create a fair balance. The chatter of the classroom felt distant as he arranged friendships and personalities.

But when it came to assigning his own seat..

He faltered.

Kazuha closed his eyes briefly, a silent prayer forming.

"To any deity, archon, or celestial being who might hear me... let me sit with [Y/N]."

It was foolish. Selfish... even.

But the thought of being close to you—of seeing you not just as a distant admiration but as a part of his daily life—made his heart race in ways that scared him as much as they thrilled him.

Then, he carefully placed your name beside his own.

“Finished?” Mr. Takahashi asked, peering over Kazuha’s shoulder.

“Yes,” Kazuha replied, keeping his tone even despite the small scare Mr. Takahashi had given him.

“Great. Let’s see how long it takes for complaints to start rolling in,” the teacher joked, pinning the chart to the board. “Everyone, find your new seats!”

The classroom buzzed as students gathered around the chart. Kazuha remained at his desk, his expression calm though his fingers tapped a silent rhythm against his thigh.

He didn’t look up, not even when he heard footsteps approach.

“Looks like we’re seatmates,” you said, breaking the silence.

Kazuha glanced up, his breath catching for a split second. You stood beside him, your smile easy and unguarded, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

“Yes,” he replied, though his voice wavered. He cleared his throat quickly, composing himself. “It seems so.”

You tilted your head slightly, amused by his formal tone. “Looking forward to the year, Kaedehara-san!"

His name on your lips felt like a melody. “A-As am I,” he stammered, cursing himself inwardly for the awkward response.

As you settled into your seat, Kazuha couldn’t help but steal a glance. Your attention had already shifted to arranging your supplies, but to him, the moment lingered like a dream he wasn’t ready to wake from.

Then... the memory resurfaced with startling clarity as Kazuha caught the faintest scent of cherry blossoms drifting through the open window.

Second Year Sports Day

The school’s sports day had arrived, and with it, the usual mix of excitement and energy that buzzed through the air.

While the rest of the school seemed to vibrate with uncontainable enthusiasm, Kazuha found himself sitting at the edge of the track, away from the heart of the festivities. His usual spot under the large sakura tree, a quiet refuge, stood at the farthest corner of the grounds.

The cool shade beneath the tree provided a temporary escape from the groups of students, their cheers and shouts muffled by the distance.

The only sounds Kazuha truly heard were the occasional rumbles of laughter and the rustling of the leaves overhead.

He opened his notebook, the familiar pages welcoming him like an old friend. He’d been trying to write a poem about spring, something inspired by the energy of the day...

Yet, as his pen hovered over the first line, he found himself distracted. His thoughts wandered, and the words refused to come.

His gaze drifted across the field, where students in brightly colored uniforms lined up for their respective events.

Some were stretching, some were chatting, and others were just as focused as he had hoped to be in his writing.

Yet, it wasn’t their energy that caught his attention.

It was you.

There you were, standing in the middle of your relay team, adjusting the ribbon on your uniform.

It wasn’t that you stood out because of any particularly noticeable trait.

You weren’t the loudest, nor were you drawing attention with over-the-top theatrics.

Instead, it was in the way you carried yourself.

Your eyes seemed to be focused on the track ahead, and your smile was soft yet determined. It was clear you were nervous, but there was an undeniable strength in the way you held your own.

As you adjusted the straps of your shoes, your hands moving in practiced motions, Kazuha felt an unfamiliar tightness in his chest. It was a strange feeling, one he couldn’t quite place.

He watched as you laughed at something your teammate said, your voice ringing clearly through the air, and for a moment, time seemed to stop.

He didn’t know why he couldn’t look away, why his thoughts were suddenly so jumbled. All he could do was watch as you leaned forward, preparing for the race to begin.

The whistle blew, sharp and clear, cutting through the air. The race started with a burst of energy. You took off down the track with the other runners, your legs pumping with determination, your face set with concentration.

You weren’t the fastest.

In fact, Kazuha knew that the fastest runners were already ahead, but there was something about the way you ran.

It wasn’t about speed.

It was about perseverance, about staying steady no matter the odds.

There was no frenzied urgency to your movements. You were calm—almost serene—despite the pressure of the race, despite the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

It was as if the entire world had fallen away, leaving only the rhythm of your body and the goal ahead.

The baton exchange came, and Kazuha’s eyes followed every move. As you passed the baton, you didn’t falter.

You didn’t hesitate.

The way you handed off the baton was smooth, like you’d done it a thousand times. Your face, flushed with effort, broke into a brief smile as you cheered for your teammate who took off next.

It wasn’t a smile directed at anyone in particular. It was a natural, easy smile—a smile that felt effortless and genuine, as if you weren’t concerned with anything other than the moment itself.

Kazuha couldn’t explain it, but that smile...so simple

Made something stir deep within him...

His hand, still gripping the pen, trembled slightly.

He was so absorbed in watching you that he didn’t realize his notebook had slipped from his lap and fallen to the ground with a soft thud.

The noise startled him out of his daze, and for a brief moment, he blinked in confusion as he looked down at the notebook, now on the grass beside him.

He shook his head, trying to clear the sudden fog in his mind.

But the moment he lifted his gaze again,

There you were—laughing with your teammates, clearly exhausted but no less joyful...

And suddenly, it hit him.

He hadn’t noticed you before.

Not like this.

Not until now.

The noises of the crowd faded, the rustling of the leaves turned into a soft murmur.

The only thing that mattered was you—your laughter, your smile, your quiet strength as you cheered on your friends.

In the space of a single moment, his world had shifted.

For the first time, Kazuha felt something he couldn’t explain—a pull, an unshakable weight in his chest.

Now, you were all he could see.

In his reverie, he didn’t hear the bell ring or the shuffle of students around him.

He was lost in the memory, feeling that familiar warmth rise in his chest, the same warmth that had blossomed quietly within him since that day.

But then a soft voice broke through the haze of nostalgia, sharp and clear.

“Kaedehara-san?” The sound of your voice snapped him back to the present, and Kazuha blinked, looking up in mild surprise. You were standing by his desk, your gaze not quite meeting his but still focused on him with an expression that held something like concern, a faint smile tugging at your lips.

“Kaedehara-san,” you repeated, your tone playful yet gently questioning. “Are you daydreaming...? You looked like you were a million miles away!"

Kazuha felt his heart leap in his chest.

The gentle teasing was enough to make him realize just how lost he’d been in his thoughts.

He quickly shook his head, trying to mask his embarrassment with a sheepish smile. “Ah, sorry, I—was just thinking.”

Your smile softened, though the hint of amusement still lingered. “I figured,” you said, tapping your fingers on his desk lightly. “You seemed so... far away.”

“Ah... I didn’t mean to seem distant,” he stammered, immediately trying to explain himself, but the words escaped him as quickly as they had arrived.

Instead, he offered a small, embarrassed laugh. “I guess I got a little lost in my head.” It was then that he realized he hadn’t even noticed when the class had finished, or how the others were packing up for lunch.

The room was quieter now, with only a few lingering conversations and the shuffle of bags and chairs. “Hmm, well, it’s good to know I wasn’t the only one spacing out,” you said with a small wink. “You’ve been pretty focused all morning. Do you need a break?”

Kazuha opened his mouth to respond but found himself at a loss for words.

His heart was still racing a little, not entirely from embarrassment, but from the realization that you were still here, still so close.

His chest tightened in a way he couldn’t quite explain, a feeling that had been growing steadily ever since he sat beside you today.

“I’m... I’m fine,” Kazuha managed, though his voice was quieter than he intended. He quickly gathered his things—his notebook, pen, and the scattered bits of paper that had somehow gotten mixed up throughout the morning—and began packing them into his bag.

But his thoughts wandered again, despite his best efforts to stay focused.

How could he tell you what had been on his mind for so long? How could he put into words the feelings that had been growing within him ever since that second year Sports Day?

He couldn’t, not yet. He wasn’t ready.

But as you turned to walk away, your voice lingered in the air. “Well, I’ll let you catch up on your thoughts then, Kaedehara-san. Don’t work yourself too hard, okay?”

Kazuha watched you go, his heart racing in his chest as the words you’d said echoed in his mind. "Don’t work yourself too hard."

How could he explain that it wasn’t work, but something much more complicated?

That it wasn’t just the class, or the presidency, or the seat arrangement that filled his thoughts..

It was you.

But he remained silent, and he let you walk away, his gaze lingering on the space where you had sat.

Later that evening, after the weight of the day had lifted,

Kazuha sat by his window, the sky had deepened into dusk, the stars flickering above like distant fires, and the air was cool.

It was quiet in his room, aside for the soft rustle of the wind and the occasional chirp of crickets in the night.

The silence gave him the space he needed to think, to process the emotions that were swirling within him... tangled and messy.

He had been thinking of you all day... how you had smiled at him when you called him out of his thoughts, how your voice had sounded when you’d asked if he was okay.

It had been casual.

But there was a depth to it that he couldn’t shake.

The truth was, Kazuha had known for a long time that his feelings for you had deepened.

Ever since that Sports Day in his second year, he had watched you from the shadows, silently admiring you from afar.

He had told himself, back then, that it was just a passing crush, something that would fade with time.

But it hadn’t.

It had only grown stronger, more persistent, like a plant planted deep in his heart that refused to wither.

And now, in his fourth year, here he was—seated beside you.

His heart pounding every time your voice brushed against his ear. He had told himself that the new school year would be the one where he finally found the courage to tell you.

But each time he thought about it, the fear gripped him all over again.

What if you didn’t feel the same? What if, by speaking his heart, he destroyed the quiet connection he had with you?

Kazuha closed his eyes for a moment, leaning back in his chair. “I have to tell them,” he whispered softly to the stars outside, as if seeking some cosmic answer. “This year, I have to.”

But as he sat there, a pang of longing tugged at his chest.

So close... yet so far.

You were right there, right beside him.

Yet the distance between his feelings and the courage to act on them felt like an unbridgeable gap.

His heart ached with the weight of it, knowing that despite being closer to you than ever before, he remained just as far from you in the ways that truly mattered...

But he knew that he couldn’t keep living in this quiet reverie forever.

Tomorrow would be another day. Another chance to take that first step, to move closer to you, to finally show the words that had been held back for so long.

With a soft sigh, Kazuha set his pen down and looked out at the stars.

They were distant, silent, and untouchable—but still, they shone brightly.

Just like his feelings for you.

taglist: @danhenglovebot

divider belongs to @/rookthornesartistry

kazuha fanart belongs to NOT FOUND !! (PLEASE LET ME KNOW.. I CANT FIND THE OG..)

all writing belongs to @svynie. do not repost without my explicit permission, translate or plagiarize.

[shadowkoo]

disgraceful dreams - teaser

→ Summary: After two years of lustful pining and disgraceful dreams about someone far out of your reach, you decide the only way to move past your hopeless crush on Onyx Academy's star student is by taking part in the Lupercalia festival for the very first time.

↠ wooyoung x f.reader (feat. yeosang) | teaser wc: 491 (16.4k~ total) | 18+ ↠ genre: witch/warlock au, smut, virgin!reader, inspired by s2e3 of caos, slowburn

→ Full Fic Warnings: little bit of social class discrimination, cult-ish behavior (mentions of blood, Y/N uses a knife to cut her hand for binding/ritual purposes), being ‘hunted’ like prey, explicit sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, pet names, praise kink, biting, nipple play, breast play, begging, fingering, mutual masturbation, oral (female and male receiving), exhibitionism, voyeurism, partial agoraphilia & semi-public sex, dirty talk, heavy teasing, spanking, multiple orgasms, grinding, deep dicking, size kink (wooyoung is HUNGGG), magical sex, fucking up against a tree, slight age gap (y/n is 20 and wooyoung is 25), slight corruption, choking, possessive!wooyoung, woo is ravenous for you (you’re welcome)

→ Networks: tagged below

@ksmutsociety @k-vanity @pirateeznet @cromernet

@illusionnet @othersideoutlawsnetwork @cultofdionysusnet

→ Release Date: 10/31/24

↠ want to be notified when this is posted? join my taglist here!

Under the safety of your blankets, you move quietly, as if any sudden movement could betray your secret. One hand begins to massage your breasts through your thin tank top, the other sliding down toward your pink panties.

Taking a deep breath, you open your legs, allowing your fingers to slip beneath the dampening fabric. After spreading your juices around, you rub your clit before slowly dipping your first finger into your slick entrance. The sensation is unfamiliar—neither bad nor uncomfortable, just something you're not used to. The pain of the stretch lingers, leaving a strange warmth that you can't quite place.

You close your eyes and pretend that Wooyoung is there with you. Swiftly, you begin to curl your fingers, simultaneously bucking into your hand. You picture him hovering over you, but the image clouds over, shifting into a different scene that becomes sharper.

Wooyoung is also in bed, with his hand wrapped around his exposed, thick cock, lazily pumping it. There’s something unsettlingly vivid about this image, as if it’s not just a product of your imagination. It feels real—too real. Gasping, you realize that he’s in your head, projecting himself, revealing his presence in a way that makes your heart race.

Then, as if he can sense that you've finally caught on to his wicked scheme, a dark smile tugs at the corner of his lips, the kind that makes your body’s temperature spike. “Are you touching yourself, like I asked you to?”

You suck in a sharp breath and nod instinctively, even though you know he can’t physically see you. But somehow, you sense that he knows.

“I bet you are,” he hums, closing his eyes while running his thumb over his pink head. He tosses his head back as he strokes himself, “I bet that tight little virgin cunt of yours needs some good stretching before she’s ready for me.”

Feeling the heat rising to the tips of your ears, they’re red from the weight of his words, like they’re wrapping themselves around you, pulling you deeper into his influence. The knot in your lower belly grows as you match your little finger thrusts to the speed of his hand pumps.

“Add another finger, honey, I know you can,” Wooyoung groans, his hand moving a little faster. “Look at how my cock aches to be sunk inside your sweet folds.”

You do as he commands. You’re panting at this point; completely zeroed in on his throbbing length while you climb towards bliss. The silent room fills with a sinful pattern of squelches from each thrust into your lush heat, and a divine sensation washes over you.

“Goddess, I’m about to make a mess,” he whines, a sound that you’ll never be able to forget. He stills, letting out another beautiful noise while his seed shoots out across his abs, some even on his dark silk sheets.

“That’s just a preview,” he grins devilishly, “Sleep well, Y/N.”

→ Taglist: @gyupremacy @yoonguurt @starsrens (join my taglist here!)

©shadowkoo 2024. All rights reserved.

[nottangerine]

Rekindle (rewritten)

Joshua Rosfield x female reader | reunited with his betrothed.

TW: none

wc-491

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Still trying to sort out the gyomei fic but I rewrote my first ff16 fic

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"There's someone I think you would like to see." Joshua's brows furrowed in confusion at his brother's words.

  "Someone I'd like to see?" he repeated, a perplexed expression crossing his face. He looked at his brother, his mind racing with the possibilities. With that, Clive turned and left the room, leaving Joshua alone with his thoughts. He wondered who it could be that his brother thought he would like to see. A friend? A family member? The possibilities swirled through his mind, but he couldn't settle on anything specific. He decided to just wait and see, as his brother had instructed.

A few moments later, the door to the infirmary opened again. Tarja approached Joshua's bedside placing water on the side table with a slight smile on her face. Joshua's heart skipped a beat. He straightened up in his bed. "Who is it?" he asked, slightly nervous. He keeps his eyes on the door and a familiar girl walks in. "(Y/n)?"

Joshua stands and the girl walks quickly to him and into his arms for a hug. He stands still for a moment in shock before he wraps his arms around her. While traveling with Jote he has thought a lot about what had happened to (y/n), where would she be and now she stands in front of him. Her long dark hair flowing over her shoulders. She was wearing a simple white dress, which you don't see very often now. She tightens her hold on him. "Joshua."

Joshua couldn't believe his eyes. (Y/n) had been a childhood friend . They had grown up together, played together, and shared countless secrets. They were betrothed to each other as soon as his family found out the neighboring kingdoms queen had a daughter. After they left for phoenix gate he hadn't seen her since.

"How... how did you find her?" he asked, his mind still reeling from the surprise.

"Story for another time," Clive said. "But she's been with us at the hideaway for a while now." Joshua's eyes filled with tears.

He pulled away from the hug and reached took her hand in his. "I'm so glad you're here." he said. (Y/n) smiled and squeezed his hand. The two studied each other. Her face was radiant with beauty. The same honey colored eyes. She pulls one of her hands out of his and plays with the tips of his blond hair.

She smiles, "Your hair has gotten longer." Joshua returns her smile equally as excited about seeing her again after so long, "My hair, look at yours," he runs his fingers through the ends of her hair, "It used to reach your shoulders." Clive and Jill stand at the door watching them interact after so many years with smiles on their faces.

(Y/n) leaned forward and gave Joshua a gentle kiss on the cheek. "I missed you," she said. "I missed you too, my betrothed." Joshua replied.

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ

Thank you for reading

[severelystrangewriter]

Nightmares (Flufftober 2023 Day 15)

Pairing: koshi sugawara x reader

WC: 491

Warnings: reader suffers from a nightmare? does that need a warning if i don't even describe the nightmare?

Summary: Suga comforts you after a nightmare

Note: as someone who deals with recurring nightmares this is more to comfort me lmao

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke up in a cold sweat with a gasp, your heart was pounding in your chest and for a moment you slightly feared it would explode.

You jerked up and scrambled to turn on your bedside lamp to combat the darkness. When light filled the room, you looked around wildly to gather your surroundings.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you detected movement on the other side of your bed. It was just your boyfriend Koshi Sugawara rolling over in bed, blearily blinking open his eyes and squinting at the light.

“What’s wrong?” He asked sleepily.

“Nothing,” You whispered, “Go back to sleep, Koshi.”

He didn’t listen, instead, he looked at his alarm clock, it was a little after three in the morning. Then he turned his head back to you to take in your trembling figure as you sat up against your headboard.

“Did you have another nightmare?” He asked.

Nodding mutely, you brought your knees to your chest. Your heart rate was beginning to slow down, but you still felt the lingering sense of terror.

“They’ve been happening more often,” Suga pointed out. You could hear the concern laced in his tone now.

You sighed and dropped your forehead to your knees, “I know.”

Some nights were worse than others. Some nightmares were so intense that they had you bolting out of bed and running to the living room, screaming.

You felt guilt flood your chest and tears stung your eyes. You hated feeling like this, so weak and powerless against your very own mind. And not only that but you’re certain it’s been affecting your boyfriend’s sleep as well which made you feel worse because he already had to wake up early for work and stayed up late grading papers.

Maybe you should move to the couch from now on so he could get a full night’s rest for once.

“I think it’s time we consult a doctor,” Suga said gently, causing you to look over at him. He looked as exhausted as you felt but he still asked, “Do you want me to make you an appointment?”

Swallowing thickly and wiping your eyes, you nodded in agreement, this time whispering a soft, “Yes.”

He then held open his arms, “Want me to hold you?”

You didn’t even hesitate to crawl into his arms. Suga’s presence always gave you great comfort after a bad dream. He pulled you close and you rested your head on his chest, listening to the rhythmic beating of his heart.

“Can we leave the lamp on?” You asked in a small voice, the thought of going back to sleep in the dark terrified you. As childish as it seemed, you felt safer in the light.

“Of course,” He kissed the top of your head and sighed softly, already feeling sleep trying to claim him again.

After some time, you closed your eyes too, and fell into a thankfully dreamless sleep.

[viscerawrites]

nowhere to go

on ao3

written for @aprilisthecruelestmonth day 1, using the prompts: whipped; blood on hands; "please.. let me go"

wip: i love you and i'm sorry

focus character: dogwood

wc: 491

content warnings: whipping, imprisonment, no comfort

--

author's notes: sooo i'm hoping to introduce this lil side wip today as well, but for context here!! i love you and i'm sorry is a fantasy project about 5 adoptive/found siblings who all end up separated from each other and in opposing roles all across the board. Loosely inspired by the basic premise of Arcane, but very different I think.

Anyway, the character featured in this short is Dogwood ; the youngest & the only one who isn't a "real person" (he was artificially created <3). Long story short, he's captured by an as-yet-unnamed secret governmental body (think fantasy CIA) and forced to hunt down the rest of his siblings. That is all I will say for now <3

Anyway. This scene takes place towards the very beginning of his 9-year hell. Very excited to share more of him and his story!

------

“Get up.”

Crumpled on the floor of his cell, Dogwood doesn't move to obey. Not immediately. He knows he should, knows it's better not to provoke Jol further, but he can't find the will in him to try. Not when the pain is so fresh. Not when his back is set aflame and he’s bleeding all over his own hands.

“Dogwood.” Jol snaps the whip, once, against the floor. Scoffs when Dogwood flinches away. “Did you hear me, runt?”

He needs to listen. Needs to answer Jol. Needs to get the hell up before that whip strikes him any further. He just… can’t. He hurts so bad. “Please,” he rasps. “Just – just a second, please.”

A single crack of the whip, and Dogwood is screaming again. White-hot pain ripping through him, cruel and remorseless. He's barely aware of his own tears as the agony settles miserably in his body. Barely aware of anything but the dirty stone beneath him, his face pressed to the floor as he gasps for air.

Jol’s displeased growl reaches him at the same time that he fists his hand in Dogwood’s hair and yanks him up to his knees.

Just like that, his vision whites out. Mind filled with nothing but a screaming chorus of it hurts it hurts it hurts hurts hurts —

A slap to the face, and he's back in his own body. Limp and gasping for breath, held up only by Jol’s too-tight grip on his hair. Hot pain contrasting with the cold numbness that comes with the sight of dark blood against the cellar floor.

There’s no room for him to breathe, or to feel, because then Jol’s mouth is nearly pressed to his ear as he says, low and dangerous; “Next time I tell you to get up, you listen. Got it?”

Dogwood can't help it. His voice shakes and his tears pour freely as he chokes it out: “Please... Please let me go.”

Jol laughs, hot and cruel. “And why should I?”

Dogwood has no answer for that. No answer that would satisfy any of his captors. All he can do is suck in a wet, strangled breath and whisper, “I – I want my sisters."

“Your sisters left you.”

And that — that's an agony of its own. An agony that sets Dogwood weeping more relentlessly than the whippings ever have.

“Like it or not, runt,” Jol continues, tugging Dogwood back into place as his trembling body threatens to crumble once more. “You're stuck with us. You have nowhere to go. No one to go to. You're staying put, you hear me?”

Dogwood says nothing. Does nothing to fight as he’s lifted bodily off the floor and slung over Jol’s shoulder, even as it stretches his burning, swollen wounds and sends more blood running down. He cries and he grits his teeth and he tries to stay still, but it doesn't matter anyway.

He has no choice but to bear it.

[ask-mosquito]

((in honour of mosquito's birthday, i bring a little bit of his backstory as a treat. just sneak peak of what happened))

TW: violence, blood, mild suicidal ideology, a mental breakdown of sorts(??)

WC: 491 words

He never questioned a thing. Not where he was being sent to, not the risk factor, not the amount of time he’d be deployed for. And he never got told a thing. Just what to do, who to kill, when to kill them. 

That was how he worked, how he always worked, how he had to work because good compliant weapons didn’t hold doubts. They did what they were told. 

So Mosquito hurled himself into that mission like he would any other, great beating wings carrying him alongside helicopters with ease, eyes locked onto every target on that base long before anyone else could so much as get a glimpse of them. It was a standard call and response where he’d point out these targets from his vantage point and his allies would take them out, allowing for them to advance more against their enemies. 

It was a standard call and response until it wasn’t. 

It took one missed turret, one person unaccounted for and one wasted second and Avim felt a storm of pain flourish throughout his left wing. 

He was plummeting to the ground before he could register it, had wind carding its fingers through his feathers before he could even cry out, was braced for pain before blood had spilled and felt so terrifyingly free before he hit gravel and dust like deadweight.

Except he wasn’t dead. Miraculously and unfortunately he wasn’t dead. He didn’t get the chance to so much as mourn such a feat before he felt hands on his wings, hands on those hands, hands in his hair pushing his face cruelly into the unforgiving ground until it bit and punished him further and he felt so shockingly bound to it, out of place on its sturdiness. 

He could distantly, through the loud rushing of blood in his ears and the thrumming in his head, hear yelling, protests, gunshots, yelling, yelling, yelling, more hands, more hands. They gripped at his feathers and pulled at his claws. They dug into his shoulders and pried at the base of his wings. They pried and dug and pulled and gripped at his wings, the base of his wings, and there was so much yelling.

So much, it was too much.

It was everywhere, his hands and his feathers were covered with blood finally spilled. He couldn’t recognise half of the bodies surrounding him but he could faintly recognise the least organ-soaked uniforms, and far too many of them were his allies. 

There were so many, too many, too much. His chest heaved while his talons tried to navigate through the sea of bodies, his own injuries forgotten as he stared at his mess with wide eyes, a deeply uneasy realisation settling in his stomach when he properly processed what he’d done.

He’d be bound for a long while, stuck dealing with an unforgiving punishment for his actions. He’d just have to hope for terrifying freedom again. One day.

[minorisato]

i've got a screw loose, you said? but love is blind, you forget

transformers / megastar / wc: 491 / warnings: NSFT, gun, minor degradation / notes: written for kinktober day 6, "gunplay." i'm a bottom megatron believer forever sorry. / consider commissioning me!

"Does this really do something for you?" Megatron asks, as Starscream presses his helm into the ground, rubbing it against the metal tiling of the ship floor.

One of Starscream's knees keeps one of Megatron's legs trapped, and Starscream's weight as a whole bears down on him, as the seeker's cockpit presses against Megatron's back. The servo that isn't shoving his helm into the ground is positioned so that his null-ray is pointed right between Megatron's optics. Starscream's hips continuously smash against Megatron's backside, harshly splitting open the warlord's valve.

Megatron should probably be more opposed to this treatment than he actually is. The truth, though, is that Starscream's spike feels good, spines dragging against the walls of his valve, and Megatron has been on this end of Starscream's null-rays so often that he barely registers it as a threat anymore. It's stupid, because it should register as a threat- Starscream has no reason not to kill him right now. But he won't. Megatron's not even sure how he knows Starscream won't, he just... knows. This will not be how he dies. Starscream will not kill him.

"Honestly? It does," Starscream tells him. "You're entirely at my mercy. The mighty Megatron, sedated by my spike, at the end of my null-ray. Any mech with a functioning processor would kill to be where I am right now."

It sounds like Starscream is smirking, though Megatron isn't sure, just staring into the barrel of his null-ray. And then Starscream's spike hits an especially sensitive cluster of nodes, and Megatron shudders, exventing a moan.

"You're good at this," Starscream exvents. "This is what you ought to be doing- acting as a berthwarmer for me, taking my spike whenever I want to have you. Not creating those failures you call battle plans."

Megatron, again, exvents. It might almost be a laugh. "I'm sure you will take over that responsibility in my absence."

"I will," Starscream scoffs, gritting his dentae. "I will outdo you in every way."

"Of course," Megatron actually smiles, rolling his optics.

Starscream growls, annoyed, and shoves his null-ray closer to Megatron's face, to the point it's almost touching his olfactory. "Watch your tone!" The seeker commands, and changes the angle of his thrusting to somehow end up deeper. Megatron grunts at the feeling, forcing himself to contain any more embarrassing noises that Starscream might enjoy too much. "Don't forget the position you're currently in."

Again, Megatron rolls his optics. "Should I call you lord, while I'm at it?"

Starscream cackles. "Why, I would be honoured," he announces, taking on that fake-sweet tone he would often use right before attempting to usurp Megatron's authority in some way. As Megatron thinks this, he realizes he might be growing a bit fond of all of Starscream's tricks. "Wouldn't that be nice. Lord Starscream, and my humble, idiotic, useless subordinate, Megatron."

"Not in your lifetime," Megatron tells him, and Starscream simply laughs at him in response.

[fcxyviixen]

redamancy

summary: after an unknown attack, lucifer enters a state of comatose. his soul entering a place called 'dreamland'. where he meets a unknown being called 'mc'. they hold his life candle in their hands everytime he sees them in this space of darkness. time is irrelevant in 'dreamland' so time in unknown, not knowing whether a day or a year has passed, lucifer tries to pass this time getting to know the unknown being.

pairing: lucifer x dreamland!gn!mc

rating: 14+

chapter wc: 491

warnings: n/a

outside the dreamland

“Satan?” Mammon’s voice sounded tired as he walked into the eldest’s room. Satan sitting beside the bed where their comatose brother laid. Lucifer’s injuries were severe, but they were healing, almost completely healed, but Lucifer showed no signs of waking up.

Satan looked over at Mammon, seeing Mammon had Diavolo with him. The blond only turned his head, a silent communication to the second brother who let Diavolo come into the room. “He’s been out for almost 2 weeks.” Satan stated to the prince.

“I’m aware. Mammon gave me the details.” Diavolo said, the redhead looked down at Satan, he could see that he was worried for his brother. It would have been heartwarming for Diavolo if it wasn’t for the circumstances, that Satan actually showed he cared instead of trying to curse his brother all the time.

“His injuries are completely healed, why isn’t he waking up..” Satan growled, showing his frustrations. “It could be another issue stopping him.” Diavolo said. “I wouldn’t worry too much, Lucifer is strong. He’ll wake up, good as new.”.

Diavolo tried to make it sound lighthearted, but the prince was worried himself. He didn’t know if the brother’s had noticed it, but Lucifer’s soul went dark. Meaning his soul wasn’t exactly inside Lucifer, but somewhere else.

Satan glanced but looked away, staring at his brother’s motionless body. “Maybe he’ll even wake up nagging. That’ll even be better than silence.” Satan muttered, but Diavolo caught his words.

Diavolo excused himself and left Lucifer’s room, Mammon waiting outside it. Everytime Diavolo came to see Lucifer’s condition, Mammon or Satan were the two inside the room, sometimes Belphegor, but not as often.

Beelzebub was sometimes outside the room, like he was standing guard. Which doesn’t surprise Diavolo, Beelzebub was always Lucifer’s guard, ever since their angel days. Diavolo could only imagine how Beelzebub was feeling, like he couldn’t protect his brother from this.

“No difference?” Mammon asked, Diavolo froze for a second, then realized that Mammon knew. Diavolo shook his head in response. Mammon sighed. “Thanks anyway..” The second born spoke, before disappearing down the hallway.

Diavolo only left, there was nothing else he could do, before that he noticed Belphegor walking towards Lucifer’s room, pillow in hand.

Diavolo sympathized with the brothers, he knew how close they all were, despite none of them wanting to admit it. So seeing how their eldest, all of their favorite brother, was comatose was heartbreaking.

Diavolo only wished he could provide some help to the brother’s but he knew what a darkened soul meant. The prince could only hope that Lucifer would make it out of his “dreamland” safely.

After all, Diavolo has only met one person who has been able to continuously enter the dreamland and come back unharmed, only because he never trusted the keeper.

The prince silently hoped his best friend did not trust the keeper of the dreamland, because trusting the keeper, would seal his fate.

[murderoushagthesequel]

daily jegulus microfics

these are all the microfics i've written from a prompt by @jegulus-microfic! my regular microfic list was getting crowded so i'm separating them. also all the ones starred are my personal favorites! i love all of them but some, i'm especially proud of :)

May

invisible: Exchange Student (wc 493)

dawn: Until Tomorrow (wc 150)

spider: Potter is Scared (wc 280)

passion: Juice (wc 277)

*morals: Playing with Fire (wc 244)

mirror: Hold Me Now (wc 165)

off-script: Opening Night (wc 165)

*flowers: Grounded (wc 154)

intent: Just Good Acting (wc 327)

explore: Ruined Date (wc 450)

*new: Boys (wc 504)

*open: Love for Life (wc 199)

library: Library Dad (wc 491)

first: Fallen by Their First (wc 449)

chase: You're Free Now (wc 240)

favorite: Veritaserum (wc 96)

*beach: Follow Me (wc 860)

June

appearance: He Looks So Perfect (wc 215)

swim: Cats and Lemonade (wc 359)

domestic: Happy Being Happy (wc 156)

knife: How to Slice (wc 85)

*freckle: Moonlight Admiration (wc 302)

holiday: Effortless (wc 181)

*warning: The Only Good Thing (wc 827)

taking chances: Can I Have This Dance? (wc 310)

roof: Ours (wc 140)

*comfortable: Couch Burrito (wc 100)

smoke: Maybe It Isn't (wc 525)

warmth: Thawed (wc 70)

tender: James' Dinosaurs (wc 233)

*boot: See, Notice, Study (wc 100)

camera: Gifts (wc 295)

mistake: Boyfriend (wc 464)

summer: Difference (wc 125)

expose: I Know You (wc 319)

memory: Photos and Family (wc 250)

try again: Stupid Quiz (wc 249)

authentic: Shopping (wc 167)

risky: "Disgusting" (wc 166)

*charm: Blinding (wc 111)

impatient: I'm Here (wc 352)

blackmail: Explanation (wc 76)

*ribbon: Hair Styling (wc 152)

letter: A Little Fun (wc 239)

plant: Amongst the Greenery (wc 312)

*nervous: Distraction (wc 133)

dress: LBD (wc 200)

July

*alive: Sparks Fly (wc 160)

*scars: Owned (wc 82)

praise: Melody (wc 85)

hands: Hot/Cold (wc 105)

potion: Beautiful (wc 107)

cat: Something Else (wc 142)

ring: Shiny Things (wc 118)

break: Breaking Bread (wc 96)

sweat: After School (wc 172)

*snitch: Just Us Now (wc 381)

creepy: Scary Stories (wc 179)

coffee: Coffee? (wc 101)

weekend: Favorite Time (wc 105)

forest: Garden (wc 115)

bath: Bedroom, Bathroom (wc 67)

*bath: In Absense (wc 195)

never forgotten: Beacon of Hope (wc 250)

don't go: Confirmations After (wc 213)

grass: This Is Joy (wc 156)

*thunder: Sounds of Thunder (wc 250)

*savour: Choice (wc 145)

rest: Day Off (wc 110)

kitchen: Dream Home (wc 123)

inspire: Regulus the Poet (wc 146)

transform: Ethereal (wc 127)

crown: My Crown (wc 209)

ignite: First Grill Lesson (wc 278)

*hunter: Snow White (wc 191)

champagne: Inappropriate Use (wc 207)

final: Healthy Start (wc 153)

[ickygojo]

𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 . . .ᐣ

wc. 491

mdni, sfw. gojo, geto, toji & how they would care for you after a long week at work. should be just fluff but there is some undressing, bubble bath, kissing and bites, massaging sore muscles and food mentions. overall this is supposed to be wholesome.

⭑ gojo . would disappear off into the other room for a few minutes, leaving you curious as to what he was doing back there for so long, returning after awhile, only to pull you along with him. you hear water, and you quickly realize he’s running you a nice, hot bath. there’s bubbles, the lights are off and he’s got candles lit. “baby, you didn’t have to.” you’d whine at him and he’d shake his head at you, pulling you close and beginning to undress you. picking each item of clothing off slowly, planting soft kisses all along your body, your stomach, your chest, your back and shoulders, even a little bite on your ass— to which you swatted at, to which he replies “i just couldn’t help myself!” before sending you off to your bath, sitting close and talking to you about work, feeding you snacks while your hands are wet, stealing soft kisses between bites.

⭑ geto . would immediately put on your favorite movie/show, running off to the bedroom, grabbing the softest blanket and your current favorite stuffed animal to snuggle before returning back to you and bundling you up. “what do you want to eat hm? anything you want.” suguru hums, sitting beside of you only for a moment, gathering your response with a little nod. he kisses your forehead gently, leaving again, only to go off to to the kitchen and prepare your favorite meal. you hear shuffling and racket, the fridge opening, cabinets closing. about a half hour later he returns with a tray full of food. a meal along with some snacks for you to enjoy. “i hope this is good.” the look on his face is precious, priceless even, the yearning for praise showing through his eyes. “of course it is baby.” you purr in return, satisfied with his work. you finish your meal and spend the rest of the evening laying in his arms.

⭑ toji . would pull you to the couch, sitting you with your back facing him, starting in on your shoulders, his large palms warm on your sore muscles, his thumbs working out the knots left by months of constant wear and tear. your body would go limp in his grasp, like putty in his hands, head dropping and muscles starting to relax. he would place a few soft kisses to your neck and around your ear, softly whispering the words, “bedroom, now.” before ushering you off and following suit. you reach the room and turn to face him, but the first thing he does is spin you around and tell you to lay down. of course, you do as he says, wondering what is happening here, feeling him straddle you, firm hands beginning to massage your aching back, planting soft kisses here and there as he goes, along with the occasional bite. the massage leaves you feeling relaxed and loosened up, toji flopping down in bed beside of you to steal a few kisses.