#when i get irrationally annoyed i like to take a second and think it through

[drusic]

ok that last reblog saved me a little

[whumpfish]

Physical Signs of Extreme Pain: Weird Edition 👽❤️‍🩹🤷‍♀️

I've made some pain reference posts over the years, but apart from passing out from pain, I haven't gotten much into the just plain weird shit the body does when it's really hurting. Time to fix that.

Fireflies: Sure, seeing spots is a thing. Black spots on the edge of your whumpee's vision, getting closer in slow pulses when they're having trouble breathing and struggling to hang onto consciousness. But when they just straight up hurt, your whumpee can get weird little floating things that flash like fireflies or tiny pieces of metallic silver confetti drifting around. In my experience, they've been linked to effort--they tend to either start or multiply fast when I stand up or otherwise try to move when I'm in unusually intense pain.

Shivering: Not because your whumpee is cold or in shock, but because their muscles are taut to the point of strain (because the body responds to pain with muscle tension), and when those muscles can't tighten further, they shake. It's the same mechanism that makes your fists shake if you're angry and clenching them past the point they can reasonably be clenched, just all over.

Teeth Chattering: No, seriously. In my experience, it mostly tends to happen as the shivering escalates, but I've had it just start up on its own when I get slammed with a spike in pain out of nowhere like cramps, or if I'm late taking a dose of my meds. I hate it because in the first place it's annoying, in the second place it's very noticeable, and in the third place I have absolutely no control over it. Clenching my teeth doesn't stop the muscles from trying to make them chatter, it just makes them (even more) sore. Also it's hard to talk, and I bite my cheek and tongue. A lot.

Ear Stuff: A ring that your whumpee feels as much as they hear. It's not a tone like a lot of tinnitus is, it's more like the pressure-changing "sound" you'll get as a plane takes off. And it feels like it's physically inside their ears, like someone has taken the world's heaviest, smallest ball-bearing and stuck it in their ear canals and it's trying to pull them down into and through the floor.

The Air Hurts: Your whumpee gets an all-over feeling like someone pressing lightly on a bruise, and the more they think about it, concentrate on it, the more their brain becomes irrationally convinced that the air has become dense around them and that's what's causing it. Because nothing is there, there is no external pressure, it's just pain signals behaving in a goofy way, and their brain is scrambling for an explanation. They might subconsciously pull their hands or other exposed skin into their clothing, or hunch over and pull everything in toward their chest to "protect" their skin from the air around them.

Have chronic or acute traumatic pain? See something missing from this post? Add on!

[anonymityisfunwriter]

CONGRATS ON THE MILESTONE!!!!!!!

i’m so happy you’ve captured the audience you deserve with all the stories you’ve shared with us

you never let me down with anything. now, i don’t typically read sam wilson romantic fics (i love him platonically), but your midnight rain fic truly had my heart in pieces, i adored the way you wrote everything and the flash backs that tied it all together. solid 5 stars from me <3

now, as for a possible request / idea, i’m obsessed with a classic “who did this to you?” / “who did this” protective fic with bucky - or anyone really. romantic or platonic, it’s a favourite of mine and i’m sure that i’d love any way you wrote it – if you chose to write that, no pressure at all i just love you

an: i would gladly write anything for you. ily, bestie, and thank you so, so much 🥹

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Anon's 1K Celebration | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Who Did This To You?

this made me think of irrationally overprotective bucky barnes. the one who threatens men that stare at you a little too long. the one who wouldn't have a single qualm about killing someone for hurting you, even if you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself.

you’re not together. it doesn’t matter what anyone thinks, you’re really not.

you’re just close. sometimes, a little too close.

but you're not together. no, you're definitely not together.

so after a long, exhausting, disaster of a mission, you're not thrilled to be sitting in the medbay with your team mates not so gently suggesting that you need to tell bucky.

"he's going to be pissed," sam warns.

"occupational hazard," you grunt, holding the ice pack to your throbbing temple. "he's just going to have to deal."

"so you don't deny that he's gonna be pissed?"

you roll your eyes, "no one likes when their friends get hurt."

sam shrugs, "friends, bed buddies, a couple, same shit, different font."

you groan at him, hissing as you accidentally put a little too much pressure on your temple, "don't you have to go annoy anyone else?"

sam looks down at his watch and hums, "not until 4."

there isn't a warning when bucky bursts through the door, rage rolling off of him in waves. his darkened eyes flash over to you.

"you know, on second thought, i did have that other thing to go do, so, uh, bye!"

bucky's chest heaves for a reason that has nothing to do him running down here. he stalks over to you, making no attempt to hide his eye raking over you head to toe.

"buck..." you sigh.

he stands before you, and without a word, he grips your chin, angling it to the side to see the full injury.

you suck in a sharp breath, you've never seen him this upset. his nostrils flare as he breaks his silence. "who did this to you?"

"bucky," you admonish. it wasn't even that bad. you took the butt of a rifle to the temple, leaving a nasty bruise and knocking you out momentarily. thankfully, sam was there to assist. it looked much worse than it felt.

he grips the back of your neck, his breath coming out in pants, "i want a name. now."

you rest your hand against his chest. you can feel his heart hammering against his ribcage, "it’s fine. mission’s over. it’s done."

"fuck no," bucky growls. "someone gave my girl -"

"your girl?" you rasp.

one hand still gripping the back of your neck, bucky's other vibranium hand comes to lift your chin to meet his gaze. your shiver has nother to do with the cool metal. bucky's breath skates across your gaped lips, "no one touches what’s mine."

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Anon's 1K Celebration

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

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[soullust]

hiii i'm super bored, so here are dps sick headcanons

neil perry

seldom gets sick but when he does it hits him LIKE A TRUCK hates being sick he's allergic to penicillin so he feels very guilty about needing medication stubborn asf, will pretend he's fine for an annoying amount of time. will go to class watery eyed, sweaty, flushed red, shaking and half-delirious has to be forced to rest, but once that's managed he's very calm and sleeps through most of his sickness loves soup. his mom used to (and still does if he happens to get sick while he's home) make him some kind of special soup whenever he got sick and he loved it. give the boy some soup it will cure 99% of his illness.

todd anderson

gets sick frequently but goes through it pretty lightly he's never like, suffering, more like inconvenienced takes him such a long time though. he has never been sick less than a week fatigue hits him hard, he's falling asleep while standing gets pretty bad muscle pains and pretty irritable it makes him pretty snappy, which unfortunately, makes him funny asf, but no one can really laugh bc he's sick, that would be rude

charlie dalton

probably ate dirt as a kid so he's immune to all the germs, and doesn't get sick a lot but when he does his throat just... gives up on him. he looses his voice immediately i think since he barely gets sick the poets have no idea, so when one day he just shows up at breakfast dead silent they assume the apocalypse is near. gets really bad headaches. loud noises make his headaches worse. this is pretty ironic and funny to the other poets starts missing classes the second he can and doesn't come back until he's forced to by nolan himself would love being sick if it wasn't for the whole... being sick thing bc ouch... but like the attention is great

knox overstreet

gets sick at very unfortunate times, like just at the beginning of spring or during school breaks and weekends. convinced he's dying every. single. time. "This Is The End, Write Down My Will For Me Please... Please Call My Mommy, I Shall Bid My Farewell To Her..." to be fair he does get a horrible migraine every single time, so the guys are mostly forgiving of all of the bullshit inhales soup and tea with lemon&honey.

gerard pitts

his temperature spikes up by +0.1°C and immediately delirium hits him and it hits him HARD gets really emotional and cries a lot. mostly bc he loves his friends and animals and science hates taking medicine. you gotta hide it in his food bc he will not take it will not shut the fuck up, not even for a second. not even when he's sleeping (pray for meeks he's really going thru it), talks until he looses his voice also muscle pains get him soo bad, like his back and his legs are useless he can barely sit sometimes

steven meeks 

barely eats anything. all the food becomes repulsive to him and he has to be coaxed to eat literal toddler portions just so he doesn't starve. throws up a lot deathly pale + flushed cheeks and nose + teary, puffy eyes sleepy. hates it. hates missing classes and complains about it a lot. would over-medicate himself to get to go to class quicker luckily he can be easily distracted (mostly by crossword puzzles and music) charlie will go into his room and play saxophone for him sometimes <3

richard cameron

he technically has a pretty good immune system but he's so irrationally afraid of germs that he walks around in a medical mask during flu season to protect himself still gets sick though it's like a vibe check from god to stop fucking panicking like neil, he refuses to admit that he's sick and goes to class shivering, sweaty, and only half-lucid but he will go to class goddammit, gotta keep that perfect attendance somehow still believes that some painkillers will fix him. he almost overdosed once (or twice) has to be forced to rest and argues about it a lot he's hungry. all the time. could eat a five course meal and still be hungry. get my boy some sustenance, he's dying also gets migraines (he gets those anyways, they get way worse when he's sick though)

[lia-land]

Throne of Glass

2.5/5 stars

*Spoilers for the first book in the Throne of Glass series.

This was boring and slow. I would have stopped reading early on had it been any other author, but I ended up resorting to the audiobook only because I love A Court of Thorns and Roses and have seen SJM’s storytelling potential in that series. If I had read this book before ACOTAR, I would have likely stopped reading and not been interested in any of her other works either. I understand that she was around 16 when she wrote this book, but did an editor not go through it? What—perhaps irrationally—annoyed me was the use of so many exclamation marks. 221 of them, to be exact. Here’s some examples from one chapter 2:

She’d forgotten there was anyone else in the room. She looked at her rags and stained skin, and she couldn’t suppress the twinge of shame. What a miserable state for a girl of former beauty!

But now, standing before Dorian Havilliard as little more than a gutter rat!

“Four months,” Chaol said, “after Sardothien arrived, she attempted to flee.”

She waited for the rest of the story, but he was clearly finished. “That’s not even the best part!”

“There’s a ‘best part’?” the Crown Prince said, face caught between a wince and a smile. (This line specifically is a great summary for how I felt while reading this whole book)

Dorian grinned. “What remarkable eyes you have! And how angry you are!”

…And this is all just from one chapter. The second chapter, specifically. As far as first impressions go, this was not a good one. Maybe I’m just not used to seeing this in other books, but thankfully, SJM does drop the exclamation marks for the rest of this series.

The entirety of the first interaction between Celaena, Chaol, and Dorian in Endovier felt like a very young writer wrote it. I’m talking 12 or 13. The dynamic seemed strange as well because they’re all talking to each other like old friends, but they don’t have any previous relationship. I think Celaena was meant to come across as badass, but I found her insufferable and sort of fake. A lot of her remarks through this book were cringey.

There are only two things that I was interested in: Dorian, and the competition. Both lead to disappointment. The competition was such a cool concept based on how it was described and I was excited to see some sort of Hunger Games style situation where it was a continuous and deadly arena sort of thing. I was so underwhelmed when it ended up being weekly ‘tests’ like archery and climbing. It wasn’t even really that necessary for the overall plot of the series. It had so much potential, and nothing was done with it. 

It’s worth mentioning that I chose to read Assassin’s Blade as the third in the series as SJM recommends, so maybe I just didn’t have any reason to connect with Celaena in Throne of Glass, but having read Assassin’s Blade at the time of writing this, I can’t imagine I’d have cared enough about any of the characters to get through it as a first book.

The series does drastically improve after Crown of Midnight/Assassin’s Blade in both plot and writing style, as many others have said. I don’t think any book series should take 3 and a half books to get good, but I stuck with it only because it’s SJM. This book gives context and adds to the world building (as does book 2), but this could have easily been combined with Crown of Midnight. ACOTAR felt like a prequel until Under the Mountain, so I went in with the mindset of not expecting much from the start of this series either. I did wonder while reading this book if this series would have benefitted from the first person POV that ACOTAR had, but SJM does get better with third person as ToG goes on and it ends up working eventually.

I’m a very slow reader, like it will take me a full day of reading to get through 200 pages, so I would not have stuck to this series had I not read ACOTAR before it. I extended the courtesy to SJM on this occasion, but I likely would not have done so for other authors and would have missed out on the intricate story that unfolds throughout the rest of the series, as many others have.

It’s worth putting up with this book and the next one in order to get 5 good books (5 because CoM and Tower of Dawn are not great). I haven’t found that Celaena gets any less annoying, but she is unlike any other main character I’ve read about so almost as interesting as she is annoying.

[lightandfellowship]

Additional evidence for Darkness amplifying/manipulating the emotions of their host

I made a post recently where I mentioned that Baldr's dark emotions were potentially amplified by the dark entity that he harbored. I showed a screenshot of Odin dialog to provide evidence for this possibility, but in truth that is not the only piece of evidence that made me arrive at this conclusion. However, the post was getting long, so I decided not to go on that tangent. So instead, let's do that here, on a fresh post.

Simply put, the Queen of Hearts, also housing a dark entity like Baldr, is an example of my theory in action, I believe. (Quick note: we may not know the exact true nature of these entities, assuming that they are, in fact, not the same thing as a True Darkness, but I still assert that they are somewhat separate from one's own darkness, for a variety of reasons I won't get into right now).

But anyway, the relevant sequence happens in Episode 3, when Xehanort, Eraqus, and your third party member confront the Queen for the second time. For simplicity's sake let's go through the events chronologically.

Xehanort, Eraqus, and party member #3 arrive to the Queen's court. A card soldier gets dragged away by other card soldiers, and we learn that he was found guilty and will soon be executed. The Queen informs the group that only one sentence can be carried out each day, so they will have to wait until tomorrow to accept their punishment. (Take note of this, because it will become important later):

Xehanort and Eraqus manage to grovel their way into a civil conversation with the Queen (well, civil for her), where they inquire about her darkness. Specifically, Xehanort and Eraqus ask if her heart is truly her own, and whether or not there is a dark being inside of her commanding her to act like this. Eraqus also expresses the belief that, surely, the Queen's heart has light inside of it, not darkness. This prying seems to upset the Queen (or something else...?), and we see a dark mass appear behind her. "Behind her" being an important distinction here, as this directly mirrors how Darkness appears behind Baldr during his seven days in confinement.

After some more back-and-forth, we get a flashback of Xehanort and friends in class as Odin explains the origins of darkness. (Remember that Odin dialog I mentioned previously? That dialog is found here. Yep. The Odin dialog about darkness hiding within people and controlling their emotions occurs within the exact same scene where we seem to see this in action.) After the flashback ends, this happens:

If there was any question about whether or not there was a dark being inside of the Queen, I think Xehanort's response of "It smiled..." answers it. (We also hear a distorted laughter sound effect, by the way.) Again, regardless of the true nature of these beings, they seem to have somewhat of a mind of their own.

But here's the kicker. Remember earlier when the Queen said that a sentence was already carried out today, and there can only be one sentence per day? Well, seems like she's changed her mind!

Now, granted, the Queen is a pretty fickle and easily provoked person, but I think that's just it: her personality very conveniently obfuscates the fact that the entity is amplifying her anger in this moment and making her act irrationally (or, in her case, more irrationally than usual). Additionally, after this, the dark mass behind her jumps up into the air and turns into the Furious Reaper Heartless boss. One minute, she was having a "civil" discussion with the party, and then the next minute she's screaming for their heads and attacking them with a Heartless. Even by Queen of Hearts standards, this feels rather sudden, and she's breaking one of her own rules, too. If you ask me, the entity got annoyed at the party's prying and perhaps felt endangered since they correctly guessed that it was there, and so it wanted to put an end to their meddling by inciting the Queen into executing them.

And finally, let it be known that this group of cutscenes is titled "Darkness's True Form" in the game's Theater Mode. Whatever that means.

tl;dr: My theory is that dark entities manipulate the emotions of their hosts and make them act in ways that are more extreme than their usual behavior. Baldr was likely a victim of this, his dark emotions still being his own but amplified until they were uncontrollable and all-consuming.

[textsfromthetva]

I come to confess my sins 😅 I have mixed feelings with Brad, a kind of love-hate and I don't know if it's because I'm easy to convince or because I'm a simp of fictional men. I mean, when I first saw him I thought he was irritating and not that attractive to me, but with the following episodes with that uniform and that hair (even that sassy but funny attitude) I admit that he got me. But there are really attitudes that I can't stand (like how he seems to care more about himself than about others and as an empathetic person that I am, that annoys me) but seeing that people love him (very few tho) made me change my mind lol

PS: His new hairstyle definitely looks much better on him, I don't know why.

Yes! A convert! Welcome to the team.

And since you brought up the hairstyle, and there's several bits in my fic that discuss that, you get a little taste:

He had drawn up a whole list of possible scenarios for this confrontation, and how he would respond in each of them, but Brad does not react as X-5 would have expected. He doesn’t seem freaked out at all, he seems... curious.

“Well, aren’t you a handsome devil,” he drawls, taking a deep drag of his cigarette and blowing the smoke out through pursed lips.

X-5 snorts. Ah yes, there’s the vanity he has been observing, that he himself has been criticized for back at the TVA for the last thousand years or so. “Hello, Brad.”

Brad tilts his head minutely, stepping closer. “I’ve got to admit, it’s been a long time since I had a dealer spike my drugs with hallucinogens, but this is some good stuff.”

“You’re not hallucinating,” X-5 says.

“Is that so?” He moves closer still, and for a split-second X-5 thinks he’s going to touch him to confirm his corporeality. Instead, Brad changes course at the last minute, circling X-5 to take him in.

His instincts, honed by eons of fighting dangerous Varients, are telling him to turn around, to not let himself get flanked, to prepare for an attack, but he also knows it won’t be coming. Brad isn’t the type to physically assault someone. They differ in that regard. He still finds himself squaring his shoulders and drawing himself into his full height.

Brad notices. “Ah. You’re not me.” He comes back around, eyes roaming shamelessly over X-5’s body before settling on his face. “You’re a soldier.”

X-5 raises an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”

“The posture,” Brad replies. “And the god-awful haircut.”

X-5 has to fight the urge to touch his hair, to defend the style, but really, Brad is right. It’s the haircut of a soldier.

“So who are you really?”

X-5 shrugs. “Maybe I’m your twin.”

“I’m an only child,” Brad promptly fires back.

“As far as you know.”

Brad gives him a lopsided smile. “Fine. Keep your secrets then.” His gaze travels down X-5’s body again. “What’s your name, soldier?”

----

Actually fuck it, have one more:

----

“You should grow your hair out,” Brad tells him, “You’d look very handsome.”

X-5 laughs, ignoring how irrationally flattered the backhanded compliment makes him feel. “I’d look more like you, you mean.”

Brad isn’t even remotely put off by the comment. “I look good,” he says with no trace of shame. “It’ll soften your features. So would losing the beard.”

“Some of us don’t have the spare time to maintain an attractive permastubble.”

Brad smirks like X-5 just made a damning admission. “I don’t see you having anything better to do.”

[mysunshine-youremoonlight]

vani. my buddy my pal. any tips for dealing with bpd beyond "fantasize about destroying social bonds because god wouldn't that be nice". thanks (this is to say we're going through it) -🪴

oh damn yeah i can try to help a lil

find a healthy(ish) coping mechanism. for me when i get the urge to irrationally block people/lash out/etc, i either go play a game (i play rhythm games a lot bc it makes me focus on something else), just remove myself from the situation (i have a side account where i've blocked a lot of people off of it and go over there to scream and cool off and rb characters from games and shit), or just kinda. destroy stuff (WITHIN REASON). there has been a few times where i've dragged out old work from high school and just ripped papers into shreds to calm down. don't go like, throwing the good china at the walls or anything, just rip up some old school work or some scrap papers.

if you have the ability to, talk to someone. i can hash stuff out with sonata sometimes (if he's not actively encouraging me to be worse, or feeding into my delusions), other times i talk to my brother if they're willing, and they help me work stuff out. my dms and stuff are always open if ya need to talk, too :3 also just? talk to the person bothering you if you can in a rational way? (or even in a sort of "irrational" way, if they understand what you're dealing with). it helps me a lot to just clear out my feelings, and sometimes whatever's bothering you can be avoided in the future. or you'll just get told you're being irrational, which in my case kind of helps sometimes skgdhds

uh internal affairs can also help!!! like me and my headmates kinda have agreements for when i start getting a bit uppity and they're working on failsafes to kinda? make it less bad? for lack of a better way to describe it? so they just kinda. take over sometimes. if i'm being particularly irrational and petulant. so maybe working out something with your headmates can help out? (and if any of your guys share ur bpd sometimes it helps to have someone to scream with, even internally... unless they are enabling you/making you worse)

but yeah bpd is. a bitch. the best things i can offer you is to First, find something to calm down with, even a little. and then Second, go talk to whoever is bothering you (if you can) to try and work something out, or at least just get a better perspective on yourself. sometimes you're just being an irrational ass who's annoyed that your fp is spending time with other people... and sometimes you end up crying bc you think your fp is abandoning you bc they didn't say good morning to you at the normal time bc they fell asleep on accident. <- actual thing that happened to me. btw. so ! you just kinda gotta find what works best for you. i get my mind offa stuff with games, and try not to stew too hard in my own anger. although that doesn't always work, i am a very angry creature when worked up apparently. do ur best sys anon. if you need me i am here :3

[the-consortium]

To the Doctor:

How do you exactly get rid of Harlequins? I may have an infestation adn I may need some tips

Oleander is careless. He has let his guard down and allowed himself to get completely lost in his work. He sits at a lab bench and obliviously sorts through samples, making notes now and then. Sometimes he lifts the horrible pipe made of Curze's fingerbone out of a self-constructed mesh of tubes and hoses and takes a drag. Lets the pink smoke rise in his body. He sings to himself, the words not really understandable and actually just part of his experiments.

That's why he's actually surprised and his body reacts with immediate readiness to fight when a datapad lands on his table, almost knocking over several racks of sample vials.

Oleander turns around, grabs a knife, ready to let blood flow. But then he sees that it is Fabius standing behind him and slowly leans back again. He watches the chirurgeon's arms, but they only move calmly like sea anemones. Then he tilts his head questioningly and reaches for the datapad.

"The fucking Eldar are very exclusively your thing, Oleander!" grumbles Fabius. He doesn't really seem angry, just annoyed. A thin line between these two states.

"Not really … You know they're after you." - "You brought them after me." - "They would have found you anyway. They still think you're important to their story."

Fabius growls softly and makes a dismissive gesture. "And that's what makes them so exhausting! They decide completely irrationally to piss off someone uninvolved and then the only way to get rid of them is to exterminate them to the last guy. And since they're so good at just disappearing, it's about as frustrating as fighting cockroaches."

Oleander nods cautiously. Apparently Fabius has now decided not to hold him personally responsible for the Harlequins. Or at least not for their continued presence and raids. "This is their biological niche, after all." - "That may be. But I've never been good at just leaving biology as I found it …."

Fabius' gaze wanders, becomes very absent. Oleander knows this state and acts as unobtrusively as possible.

After a few seconds, the Chief Apothecary blinks, finds his way back to reality from the depths of his thoughts. "Why didn't I think of this before! I created the Gland Hounds to hunt Astartes. I can just as easily create Eldar mutants to hunt Harlequins!"

With a good-humoured "Hah!" he turns and disappears towards his innermost laboratory.

[wildwoof]

So, the idea of WHY Koga went from having the little ponytail to no longer having one hit me like a truck. As far as I know none of the events have Koga explain why he no longer had his ponytail from first year into his second year. But actually it's a lot easier to theorize than I think. Sure, he may have cut it to just cut it. But also could've done to cut more tied to his old idolizing of Rei

We know in his second year Koga became very frustrated with Rei acting like an old man. We know Koga used to highly idolize Rei while he was that rocker bad boy. So much so, Koga wanted to be like him. Though, it left Koga with a very messy persona that was all over the place. In his second year, Koga tried to become exactly like the Rei before in an attempt to remind Rei who he used to be but also was very irrational and would let his anger get to him, as seen by his first year we know naturally Koga is very excitable, just right now it comes out in the form of anger. He can be easily teased this way, which is how Rei tries to calm him down. Koga clearly had a short fuse that always needed directed somewhere to calm him down.

While it's hard to just stop suddenly idolizing someone, Koga's annoyance over the switch potentially played its part in the cutting of his hair. What if he had only grown it out after seeing Rei the first time at the Live House? Thus, when he no longer wanted to JUST idolize Rei, wanted to properly play & sing with him, Koga began to make a shift in his personality to try to be like a cool, bad boy rocker. Imagine his shock the first time he'd see Rei again when their third year began. Like that first time must've been such a blow that cracked Koga.

He might have irrationally gone and had the long mullet he'd been working on growing out cut off. He internalized a lot of his true emotions, no longer wished to outwardly idolize Rei, and entirely flipped himself over. Koga wanted to act out, cause a scene, be wild and do whatever he wanted. But from time to time his true nature still seeps through. The entire year he's like this. His long hair gone, and his persona completely twisted. He was no longer acting like the wide eye puppy chasing Rei down to be with him. Instead, they were right there together, but Koga barking in place.

It takes a while for Koga to come to terms that Rei is Rei no matter what, even if it took until the Repayment Festival, that Rei and Keito brought back DEADMANZ for it enough to annoy Koga once again. Internally, Koga is very much attached to their group. Rei, Kaoru, and Adonis with him. He'll more than likely never think about growing his hair back out since there's a mutually growth between Koga and his understanding of who Rei is on a more personal level than just Rei's life. Growth between Koga and Rei all together. It is very noticeable how LESS the two antagonize each other, and the mutual bond in place in the recent era.

Just like with Kaoru & Adonis as well, there is a strong mutual care over Koga because they all know how excitable and emotional he naturally is. How easy it is for Koga to hyperfixate & forget to examine the whole picture. It's a level of care that Koga finally opening up during the Repayment Festival brought.

[missmeinyourbones]

jjk characters x icks!

the ick saga continues but this time its applied to the jjk characters :3 you can read my aot icks here and here :) in conclusion, they are all so so SO embarrassing, your honor 

yuuji

fully says saturdays are for the boys. like genuinely uses it as an excuse. ur like babe i found this really cute ramen place i wanna try, lets go on saturday for lunch :D and hes like im sorry baby but saturdays are for the boys, i have plans w megumi and toge😕 he definitely has a tapestry that says it hanging in his dorm room, when you guys move in together after college he half jokingly suggests hanging it up in the living room, you make him burn it

is an ipad baby. always on his damn ipad. he cant focus on anything without simultaneously playing a game on it. ur watching a tv show together and he is watching it, but hes also playing candy crush. you are in the bathroom getting ready for bed and hes already in bed playing subway surfers. he also never cleans the screen so its so greasy and has crumbs in the crack of the buttons / case 

hes a sneaker head LMFAO he is so annoying about his shoes. has like 100 pairs of sneakers. ones he only wears to work out, ones he wears on special occasions, ones in certain colors, ones from certain athletes. he REFUSES to let you even breathe near them. places them so delicately on the doormat of your apartment and then gets mad when you just kick off ur own shoes and they almost hit his. “BABE DONT CREASE THOSE IVE ONLY WORN THEM 5 TIMES” 

megumi

REFUSES to order at starbucks because he hates the way their sizes are named. you guys go to starbucks together and ur like can u get me a venti iced coffee??? and hes like ok is that a medium or a large. and when you tell him to just say venti he gets irrationally annoyed. “its so stupid that i cant just say large? why would i say venti? grande literally means big in spanish and its equivalent to a small?” idk baby i didnt make the menu <3

he never waits for hot foods to cool down. he just immediately takes a bite and then does that icky thing where his mouth is open and he’s breathing so fucking loud so it cools down in his mouth LMFAO BYE he looks so stupid. and you would think he’d be like a normal person and wait for it to cool down a little before he takes his second bite but hes an idiot!!! and does it again!!!! and repeats until the food is either gone or at room temp!!!!!

makes fun of what you watch but low key watches it with you and likes it??? but hes too stubborn to ever admit it so he has to pretend to make fun of it as you watch it so he can continue to see what happens LMFAO. ur watching a cheesy show like teen wolf and hes like “this show is so stupid and not realistic.” hes all “teenagers don’t even look like that, those are 30 year olds” and “this is so cringey why would they make that a plotline” so ur like OKAYYYYY then leave🙄 and he just pouts but continues to watch it because he needs to know how the season finale plays out 

nobara

this bitch laughs at the most inconvenient times and everyone around her is like😐 shes ordering ur guys food through a drive through and literally cannot get the order out bc shes laughing so hard for no reason???? the person taking the order is not amused thru the box and u get so embarrassed that you have to take over lmfao. she also does this when presenting something in class. shes just laughing and giggling and looking at her friends in the audience. BE SERIOUS BABES PLS

cannot apologize. says “i’m sorry you misunderstood what i meant” or “im sorry that you feel that way” whenever you are mad or upset with her. FOR THE LIFE OF HER cannot put herself in your shoes for the sake of an argument. will go to the grave thinking that she was 100% correct and that you were overreacting or took it too personally 

she says that she is “really good w kids!!!” but in reality gets violently bullied by them LMFAO you guys are babysitting your cousins or something and shes hyping herself up, talking about how great she is with them, how smooth the night is gonna go, and you get there and they just completely humble her. say her haircut is ugly and her clothes are weird and that she smells. she pouts for the rest of the night and ur like baby theyre 6 and shes like “thats how you know its true, they dont have a filter they just speak the truth :///” 

gojo

refuses to ask for help in any capacity. so fucking stubborn about it. imagine him following instructions he found on google for how to fix ur washing machine and getting mad LMFAO like he kicks it and throws the screws around while sighing loudly. ur finally like satoru please lets just call someone, like a professional, whose literal job it is to do stuff like this. hes hurt that you would even suggest that lol

claps when planes land i literally hate him so much LMFAO he thinks hes doing it ironically but it does not come across that way AT ALL. hes whooping and hollering from the window seat as the plane slowly descends and ur hiding ur face in embarrassment next to him. as you guys gets off the plan he personally shakes the pilots hand and is like “thank you so much for your service, for safely landing us, for letting us live another day” and you have to pull him by his ear to get him to stfu 

looks at himself in every reflection he passes. EW i hate him. he physically cant help himself from looking in every single reflective surface he sees. he passes the mirror in your hallway??? checks his hair. walking by a display window in the mall??? smiles at his reflection. he has no shame. its so humiliating to see him from afar checking himself out

getou

tries so fucking hard to be funny in class that it comes off as such a force. this man wants to be the class clown so bad hes shaking in his seat waiting for the right opportunity to say something. hes gotten a few chuckles a handful of times, but most of the time no one laughs and the prof is like ...anyways 

thinks driving his car fast is a flex.... bye LMFAO like purposefully revs his engine thinking its gonna make the girls panties drop. goes 80 in a 45 because he thinks it makes him look cool and dangerous???? living for the bad boy aesthetic but he just looks like a dick lol 

falls asleep right after sex. yes im saying it. he doesnt do it in a mean way, its not like he doesnt care enough to check in on you or talk to you. he is just an exhausted man LMFAO. you roll over to crack a joke or something and hes already out like a light. put his ass to sleep now he calling me nyquil type beat 

nanami

thinks a “natural makeup look” is a full face with no colored lipstick LMFAO like he does not know what makeup looks like. so when he sees a picture of kendall jenner with a full face of natural makeup hes like “i love when women wear no makeup, shes so beautiful bare faced” like she doesnt have full coverage foundation and fake lashes on??? you guys are out getting lunch or something and you have ur usual makeup on but a little lighter (maybe no eyeliner or lipstick) and hes like you look so pretty naturally today :) ENOUGH

going to the gym is his only personality trait. hes the guy that carries around a gallon of water for no reason???? like not a special water bottle, but a genuine plastic poland springs gallon straight outta the supermarket??? just so everyone knows that he works out?? only eats grilled chicken, white rice, and broccoli every single night for dinner. his friends go out to eat and get pizza and hes like “...you know thats bad for you, right?” shut up meathead. 

he has a wallet phone case LOLLLLL like the velcro or magnetic kind thats leather and holds your phone and your money/cards. major dad/grandfather energy. it also has a touchscreen pen attached to it so he “doesnt get his screen dirty.” gets mad when you don’t use the pen. ur in public and hes like can you check my phone to see if gojo texted me and you go to slide it open and hes like “...with the pen”

inumaki

LONG ASS NAILS THAT HE DOES NOT CUT OFTEN ENOUGH. theyre not even dirty or grimey they are just long???? sometimes he bites them off and then they are all jagged and uneven and he accidentally scrapes you when he’s rubbing your back or scratching ur head :/ refuses to let you actually file them or cut them with clippers because its “too high maintenance” or “why would you when i could just do it with my teeth?” barbaric

also puts his cold ass feet on ur shins when ur going to bed. i can feel myself gagging while writing this. ur in bed and its all warm and snuggly and just as ur about to drift off to sleep he puts his COLD ASS DOGS ON UR CALVES???? like fully pressed up against ur legs. he’s happy bc ur warming him up but you feel like you have two nasty ice cubes tangled between ur legs now 

still plays among us and makes imposter jokes :/ *crowd boos* but he doesnt even do it in a funny ironic way he does it in a hes deadly serious way. like finds a picture of a dog looking guilty and sends it to you being like “when the imposter is sus XD” he is so embarrassing goodnight 

maki

the type to try waaaaayyyyyy too hard in gym class. like yells at you in dodgeball if you are not breaking a sweat or giving it ur all (maki baby i’m just trying to pass the class) her face is red and she’s sweating bullets and when you are on her team and get out she's genuinely livid. as if winning a gym class dodgeball game means anything????? 

she is so stingy when it comes to certain things. like the heat in your apartment. shes a dad w the thermostat. you are freezing and the thermostat says 60 and ur like babe its winter lets turn the heat on and shes like “no, we dont need to pay for the heat, put a sweater on” or you guys go out to eat and she’s letting you get whatever you want but then when it comes to her shes like “just water and the free bread is fine” BABY WHAT??? 

doesnt wash her face. her skin is really nice and you are jealous. but DOESNT WASH HER FACE??? you guys are getting ready for bed and you have all of your skincare out and shes like wtf is all of this and you explain the differences between toner and moisturizer and all that fun stuff and then she hits you with “huh, i just use water” WDYM U JUST USE WATER  

yuuta

never knows which way a door opens LMFAOOOOO PLEASE like its either push or pull. he has a 50% chance each time, but he somehow always gets it wrong. imagine him walking into a store and he goes to pull the door and stumbles back a little bit because its a push to open BYE

makes pic collages of you guys and posts them on ig :/ like do you remember in middle school when it was cool to make a flipagram for ur friends birthday? yeah🙂 he does that put for like every simple activity you guys do. hes like heres a flipagram of me and y/n when we went to the aquarium the other day <3 and its just awkward pics of you two w bad lighting lol. or he loves a good pic collage like the ones where you just make a grid of photos? he is an 11 year old little girl in 5th grade who just got an ipod touch 

yells stupid shit when he jumps into the pool LMFAOOOO like the most corny things. hes doing a cannonball and he genuinely says “GERONIMO!!!!” LIKE WTF IS WRONG W HIM???? also says “look out down below” or “incoming” then bellyflops right next to you when you were just trying to relax on a raft :/

[havin-a-wee]

If Only She Knew

pairing: dad!harry x cheerleader!reader

word count: 4.2k

warnings: smut (fingering + unprotected sex), cheerleading position implies readers weight, 20 year age gap

hi! ive been having some really bad writers block but i wrote this and even though its def not my best work i like it enough to post it :) also, i totally didn't mean to imply the readers weight, i only realized afterwards, so im really sorry about that. also the age gap is kinda big, so if ur uncomfy with that you shouldn't read this <3

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY

“Geez watch where you’re going!”

You don’t even look up at the girl, recognizing her nasally voice easily from how annoying it is. You were nose deep in a book while walking down the school hallway, and of course your worst enemy had to be walking down the same hallway, at the same time, in the opposite direction. You are both at fault for the collision, considering Ella had her eyes locked on her instagram feed. But knowing the girl, there is no way in hell that she will take any responsibility, even though you are the one who has coffee dripping down the front of your white blouse.

Since middle school, Ella Styles has always hated you. You have never known why, but she seems to have a vendetta against you, and tries her best to make your life miserable. You never let her, always refraining from giving her the explosive reaction that she was looking for. And that makes her hate you even more.

High school is over in 2 months, and although you are going to miss the freedom of being a child, you most definitely won’t miss the people from the tiny town you’ve lived in since you were young. You’ve always been the type of person to have a small friend group, only 4 people in your circle. But that’s how you like it, because crippling social anxiety makes it difficult for you to meet new people.

“I- sorry.” You still don’t look at her, instead peeling the soaking wet top off of your stomach.

“You better be sorry.” She flips her blonde hair, ensuring that the fluffy locks hit you right in the face. You are lucky this time seeing as she didn’t take it further, because sometimes she would purposely embarrass you after small incidents such as this one.

Tears well at your waterline and you run into the nearest bathroom, pushing open the blue door and locking yourself in a stall.

After all these years of torment, Ella rarely was able to get to you. But sometimes, she does something that pushes you off the edge, leaving you with red, tear-stained cheeks. The final straw this time was her ruining your brand new shirt, the one you were anxiously waiting to debut at school.

But now there was coffee dripping down your chest and staining the bright white fabric. Your only saving grace is the cheerleading uniform in your backpack. In fact, you were walking to the locker room to change for practice, and then for the game at 6 tonight.

You had been excited for the game, knowing that Friday night games always led to parties and fun afterwards. You rarely go to parties of course, but the buzzing energy never fails to rub off on you. But now that stupid Ella had to go and mess up your day, you’re dreading seeing her smug face while she asserts her dominance as cheer captain.

You untie your top and rip it off in a haste, frustrated tears running down your face periodically. You could’ve put a jacket on and gone to the locker room, but Ella would be going there soon, and the last thing you want to do is run into her with teary eyes. She can’t know that you let her get to you.

You brush your hands down your uniform, pulling down the skimpy costume and stuffing your old clothes in your backpack. Once out of the stall, you pull your hair up into a high ponytail, reapply your lip gloss and walk back into the hallway, having already done your makeup that morning. You’re happy that it’s a home game today, because the home game uniforms are two pieces and the skirts are smaller than the ones on the away game uniforms. There is a certain someone you are looking to impress, and the way your tits spill out from the top of the outfit will most certainly help you in your mission.

It’s not like you need to impress him, because he’s shown time and time again that he finds you sexy no matter what you wear. And when he doesn’t tell you, he shows you, by pressing his hard on up against your ass after you just woke up, despite your messy hair and bare face.

However, he also loves when you tease him. And that’s exactly what you’re planning to do.

You sling your heavy backpack over one shoulder and trudge down the hallway, the old fluorescent lights practically blinding you on your journey. The locker room is dingy, smelling of cheap soap and Victoria’s Secret perfume. At least it doesn’t smell like the boys locker room, which smells like sweat and more sweat.

It's already bustling with people, your teammates scrambling to get ready in time as to not get yelled at by the coach.

“Y/N!” The familiar shout of your best friend Rose is like a breath of fresh air, and you bound over to her. She’s standing in front of your lockers, the two of you obviously picking ones next to each other. “Wait, why are you already changed?”

“The bitch spilled her coffee all over me,” you grumbled, your eyes shifting over to where Ella and her little goons are giggling.

“I keep telling you, anytime you want me to beat her up I will gladly do it.”

“Not that I doubt your abilities Rose, because I know you would have her on the ground in a heartbeat, but I can’t let you do that. She can’t know that she upsets me.” You lower your voice for the second sentence, irrationally fearing that she can hear you over the loud chatter echoing through the room.

“I still think you should let me beat her up, but you do you I guess.” Rose shrugged her shoulders and turned back to her locker, bursting out into laughter with you after a beat of silence.

The rest of the getting ready process goes smoothly, Rose distracting you from the girl side-eyeing you in the corner. Soon enough, the whole squad was in formation outside, and you have your hands on the shoulders of Rose and another girl named Bethany. You are a flyer, meaning that you’re the one who the bases support while you pose and flip in the air. Its a hard job, but you are one of only three girls on the team who is advanced enough at flying to be safe doing it in routines. One of the other three girls is Ella.

Ella is the flyer for the middle group, seeing as she is the captain. You are on the right and the other group is on the left. Luckily, Rose is a base in your group, so you feel a lot better putting your safety in the hands of someone you already trust with your life.

“ELLA! YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG!” Coach Habbiths voice is piercing, her angry shrieks bouncing off your ear drums. Ella audibly huffs, displaying her frustration with the critiques she has been receiving since we learned the routine weeks ago. That’s one of the biggest problems with Ella, she believes that she's always right.

Every single practice she has done a needle instead of a scale at the end of the routine. It's aggravating for everyone, and that frustration is amplified everytime she makes the same mistake over and over. “Alright, everyone down. group 1 and group 3 take five, Ella and group 2 stay on the field.

The team obliged to her instructions, and you are brought down from the air.

“Okay Ella, I want you to watch how Y/N does the last move, because she’s actually doing it correctly.” Coach is standing in front of you now, and she emphasized the word ‘correctly’. This is much to Ella’s dismay, and much to your excitement.

Nothing brings you more joy than seeing Ella’s face when you one up her, and this time is no exception.

Aside from a few eye rolls and nasty looks, Ella corrects the move without much fuss. By now there's 15 minutes until the game, and the players have been warming up on the field for about half an hour.

“Did you see her face!” Rose tugs on your arm while you walk back to the locker room, water bottles in hand.

“I know! I should’ve taken a picture!”

“We can only hope that it knocked her ego down a peg.”

“I doubt it” Rose nodded in agreement and you continued your chatter, talking about the random things that best friends talk about.

“It’s go time ladies!” You jumped in surprise when Coach Habbiths yelling booms through the locker room, the hefty amount of metal in the room enhancing the echo.

In a blur, your entire team rushed out onto the field, the crisp air cooling your warmed skin. There was a huge crowd. probably the biggest the teams ever had. But that makes sense, because this game was against your school's biggest rival. Luckily, despite the huge crowd you were able to lock eyes with those piercing green irises you have gotten to know so well over the past couple months. Everytime you see him he gets more and more attractive, and this time is no exception.

At this point, the teams routine is muscle memory and you’re done with it before you can blink. Most people would think that being thrown in the air is memorable, but your main concern is the growing wet patch on your panties that spreads each time you squeeze your thighs together. Just the thought of the man is enough to turn you on, and now that you’re sitting on the cold metal bench your imagination has time to go wild.

The only thing that snapped you out of your daze was the eruption of appaulause from the audience, and the realization that the other cheerleaders were standing up and running towards the players. You breath out a sigh of relief, recognizing the cheering as a signal that the game has ended.

“Hey, you coming?” Rose tugs on your arm, looking down at you still on the bench.

“Um, actually I don’t feel so well, I think I’m going to go home.”

“I should’ve known. You know, one day you’re going to have to go to a party.” Rose places her hands on her hips, giving you a sarcastically annoyed stare.

“And today is not that day.” You grab your backpack and sling it over your shoulder, turning back to Rose for a second. “Have fun and be safe.”

“I always do.” Rose places a chaste kiss on your cheek before turning back to the gathering crowd on the turf.

Instead of heading to the sidewalk and walking home, you duck under the bleachers and walk down the gravel path, pushing open the fence that separates the field and the school. The contents of your backpack slosh around while you sway your hips as you walk. Finally, you make it to the back wall of the school, leaning your back against it and plopping your heavy backpack down by your feet.

And now you wait.

Much to your convenience, the wait this time isn’t long, only five minutes passing before you see the familiar man following the same path you did earlier.

He has a pair of brown slacks on, pressing against his waist courtesy of his black belt. A button up white shirt hides the tattoos on his stomach, but he's rolling up his sleeves as he walks over to you. He's walking with intention, hungry eyes zeroed in on you.

When he’s only steps away, you cheekily bite your lip and use your finger to push up your skirt a little bit more.

Your actions have the intended effect, his eyes blowing wide and hands grasping at your waist.

“Y’can’t do that.”

Before you have a chance to ask what he means, his lips collide with yours, his tongue slipping in only moments after the initial kiss. But as soon as he started, he pulls away.

“Y’can’t be teasing me on the field like tha’, had me hard next t’my friends.” His hand is on the wall above your head, and his other arm is wrapped around your waist pulling you into his chest. He’s panting, and you are too.

“Sorry Mr. Styles,” you push your bottom lip out in a pout, giving him the most innocent look possible. “Just wanted to wear it cause I know how much you like it.”

“Aw, my babygirl wore this f’me? Well I guess y’can be forgiven. Now let’s get t’my house before I fuck yeh right on this wall.” He places a soft kiss to your lips picking up your backpack from the floor and turning to the direction of his car.

“But it hurts!” He turns around again, giving you a sympathetic look and caressing your cheek. The rings on his fingers are cold, but you’re used to the feeling.

“I know sweet girl, but I can’t take care of yeh here, s’too risky.” He pauses for a moment, thinking of a solution to your not so little problem. “How bout I give y’my fingers in the car? Hows that sound hm?” You nod eagerly, pulling his hand down from your cheek and holding it. He takes the signal and begins walking to his car while you follow him.

You never planned to sleep with your bullies dad. But a few months ago your parents dragged you to a family friends housewarming party, and that friend happened to be a friend of Harry’s too. There were no other teenagers there, so your focus was on the attractive older man who had been checking you out since you first locked eyes, and after ending up in the upstairs bathroom together the two of you have been fucking at least twice a week. You only learned that he’s a dad when you saw him for the first time outside the party. He didn’t look the part, and you actually thought he was in his 20s until he corrected you. He’s 38, having become a parent at only 20 years old. Your relationship is a bit taboo, but you’re a mature 18 year old and you and Harry get along well. So well that your time together has developed from casual sex to a mutually exclusive relationship. (Neither of you like labels, but you’re basically boyfriend and girlfriend).

He makes you really happy, and when you have to face off against Ella, it helps knowing that you have power over her, even though she doesn’t know it.

“Did she do anything today?” Harry is walking beside you, hands still intertwined.

“Besides spilling coffee on my shirt, nothing much.” Harry sighs in frustration and squeezes your hand as a show of affection.

“M’so sorry, I wish y’didn’t ‘ave to deal with her.”

The thing about Harry and Ella is they can barely be considered family. Ella’s mom is, for lack of a better word, a bitch. She’s snobby, conceited, and rude, and those behaviors have rubbed off on Ella. Another thing that rubbed off on her was her mom’s hatred for Harry. Being young parents put strain on their already struggling relationship, and they split before Ella’s first birthday. Harry said he tried his best to make it work for Ella’s sake, but her mom was looking for someone to pay for her life, and Harry had just started working his way up as a businessman.

Now, he’s a CEO, but luckily Ella’s mom already found a new beau with plenty of money, so she didn’t come crawling back to him. However, the success Harry achieved only a few years after their breakup made her jealous, and so she instilled that anger in their daughter. So currently Ella spends most of her time with her mother, and when she is with Harry she doesn’t treat him kindly.

“It’s not your fault Harry, you don’t have to apologize for her actions.”

“I know, I jus’ hate tha’ she treats yeh like that.” He sighs again, reaching into his pocket to grab his keys. In a few more steps you’re standing outside the sleek black suv, walking around to the passenger seat and sliding in once you hear the click of the door unlocking.

You both take a few seconds to breathe, an unspoken gesture to prepare for the night's events. Harry turns to you, a sexy smirk plastered on his face. “What d’ya think about fixin’ that ache darlin?” You nod eagerly, sliding down a bit in your seat to give your legs room to spread. “Think yeh can take off y’skirt fo’me?” Your head bobs once again as you nod, hooking your fingers under the elastic waistband and shimmying out of the skirt. While you’re doing that, Harry turns the car into the deserted street, using only one hand to steer.

You toss the tiny skirt into his lap, giving him a signal without distracting his eyes from the road. He reacts immediately, his free hand coming down to squeeze your thigh. You mewl at the contact and bite down on your lip, trying to stop your hips from bucking up in search of relief. His squeezes move up your thigh, and finally his fingers press against your weeping cunt. Swiftly, he pushes your soiled panties to the side, swiping his fingers up your folds collecting your juices. You shriek and buck your hips up into his hand, but much to your dismay he removes it from between your thighs. The car comes to a stop at a red light, and Harry takes the moment to look at you, his eyes wandering your squirming body. He’s practically drooling when he places his fingers in his mouth, tasting your sweet wetness.

“Sorry pup, jus’ needed t’taste yeh.” He chuckles again, and you whine softly in desperation. In one quick motion, he dives his hand back to your pussy, pressing his thumb on your swollen clit.

“Fuck!” The pleasure shoots up your spine, goosebumps raising across your body as he rubs circles on the puffy button. “Harry- please,”

“What d’ya want puppy? Want m’fingers?”

“Yes, yes,” you breathe out, words barely comprehensible through your panting.

“Alright, alright, I gotcha.” And with that his two fingers press into you, filling your tight hole perfectly. There is no hesitation before he begins pumping the digits in and out of you and his thumb never lets up on your bundle of nerves. “Such a needy puppy, got yeh soaking f’me from out in the stands hm?” His eyes are still on the road, but you can picture the lust filled eyes that are undoubtedly on his face.

“Get so wet jus- just thinkin’ about you,” you gasp, writhing as his fingers slam in and out of you.

“Yeah? This is my cunt, m’the only one who can make yeh this wet, isn’t tha’ right?”

“Only Harry.” At your confirmation he speeds his hand up, your vision clouding with white spots as the knot building in your stomach grows tighter and tighter.

All of a sudden, he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you empty. “Wha-” You begin to question him but you realize that he’s pulling into his driveway. Instead of complaining, you sit up quickly and unbuckle your seatbelt, pulling your skirt back up your legs to avoid being nude on his front lawn.

As soon as you feel the little jolt your hand yanks on the handle and you hop out of the car. Your brain is fuzzy with need and all you are focused on is alleviating the aching between your thighs. You hear Harry lock the car while you're on the steps, and you turn back to ensure that he’s behind you. And sure enough, he’s hot on your trail, just as eager as you to get inside and onto his bed. Your foot is tapping on the ground anxiously, waiting for Harry to unlock the front door. After what seems like an hour, he is next to you again, fumbling with the silver keychain in his hand, eventually unlocking and pushing open the door. You both practically run inside, hands roaming each other's bodies and lips locking as you shuffle through the hall.

You disconnect breathlessly when you reach the stairs, subconsciously wrapping your hands around Harry’s neck so he can pick you up bridal style. He does so hastily, barely a second passing before he’s plopping you onto the fluffy mattress. “Finally,” he pants, hands fumbling with his belt buckle. There’s a prominent bulge in his trousers, and although you’ve seen it plenty, you are always in awe at how thick and big he is. While he’s busy removing his clothes, you are practically drooling at the sight of his bare cock, full, heavy, and dripping precome.

“Harry?”

He looks back down at you with his emerald green eyes, simultaneously dropping his recently-removed shirt on the floor. “Can I ride you?” The look he gives you is indescribable, a mixture of need, lust, cockiness, and beauty all rolled up into one.

“Whatever y’want puppy,” His hands scoop under your ass, and he lifts you up and switches your positions. Now it’s your turn to undress, and Harry makes himself busy by running his hands up and down your torso. “So gorgeous, y’know that?” You nod quickly then pull your shirt off of your head. “Most beautiful girl in the world I reckon.” You blush at the compliment, butterflies being added to the many sensations occuring in your body. You straddle his thighs, wrapping your hand around his length and tugging a few times. A loud groan rumbles through his throat, and you smile knowing you’re the one who made him feel like that. “Thought- thought yeh said y’wanted to ride me pup.”

“I do.” You keep your hand on his cock, sitting up on your knees and lining him up with your weeping cunt. All at once, your body is put at ease as his cock fills you up perfectly. He bottoms out inside of you, both of you moaning and groaning while you adjust. “So big-” Your words come out in choppy pants, the syllables being cut off by your heaves. You suck in one deep breath and move upwards, sinking back down onto him quickly. His large hands hold a tight grip on your waist, guiding you up and down his member. His lips attach to your neck, suckling on the supple skin just enough so that it doesn’t bruise.

“What a dirty little puppy you are,” he growls, eyes focusing heavily on where your bodies connect, watching himself disappear inside of you as you bounce up and down on his cock.

“Feel so full-” Tingles ricochet down every part of your body, and your legs are becoming weaker with each movement. Harry can feel your movement faltering, so his hips thrust upwards to meet yours, fucking you from underneath. “Harry!”

“I know pup, I know.” His thumb strokes your cheek and he leans in for another kiss, devouring your plump lips and swirling his tongue around yours. “So fuckin tight,” The words tumble from his mouth in a low growl, which sends the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. His cock twitches inside of you, encouraging you to muster all your energy and finish both of you off. Adrenaline kicks in and your strength returns, riding him faster and harder than before. “Let go f’me Y/N.” It only takes a few more thrusts for you to come undone, Harry’s orgasm following suit. The waves of pleasure roll through your body, and you throw your head back in ecstasy as you allow the feeling to overcome your body. Spurts of his hot cum cover your velvety walls and you ride out your orgasms together, resting your foreheads against one another.

You end up sleeping at his house, feeling safe knowing that Ella is staying with her mom today. It’s normal for you to sleep at his place, seeing as both of you are usually so tired that you pass out before you can leave. What isn’t normal is for you to be woken up in the morning by Harry’s phone ringing. Harry is a deep sleeper, and you laugh at the sight of him conked out while his ringtone blares on the nightstand just a few inches away. Carefully, you reach over his sleeping body and grab the phone, planning on hanging it up and going back to bed. However, when you saw that it was Ella calling, you changed your mind. Making a split second decision, you slide the icon to the right, holding it up to your ear.

“Hello?” Her whiney voice rings through your eardrum and you wince. Not the nicest thing to be woken up to.

“Hello,” you answer, your voice not reflecting the cocky grin that spread across your face.

“Who the hell is this!” she shrieks, and you make a mental note that she must not be a morning person.

“A friend of your dads.” Your response is once again calm and monotone, trying to stifle the laugh that is bubbling in your throat.

“Ugh! What’s your name?”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N”

[finelinevogue]

Hi! Could you maybe write something about Harry being a CEO and you have a much more mundane job in comparison? I love your writing!!!

hi back!! thank you so much for reading first of all! secondly, hopefully this is ok?

Harry hated being late.

He didn’t get up at 5am every morning in order to be late to work. He prided himself on being the first one in the office in the morning, and the last one out of the building at night. He exploited the time he had the best he could. Workload differed from day to day, but as long as he was on time then he could make it through the day.

So you can imagine he wasn’t best pleased when the Uber he got this morning was a trainee.

“Are you even taking him the right way?” The trainer shouted at the girl in the front driving seat, him sitting next to her.

Harry was in the back, already answering emails on his phone, seeing as he knew he was going to be late. Bloody Karen was going to be there before him at this rate, and he couldn’t be having that. The traffic in NYC, home to Harry’s empire, was always horrendous, but today it was maddening.

“Yes Mr Walker, i’m following the sat nav.” You spoke back quietly, making Harrys head jerk up. God he’d never heard someone sound so innocent and dainty. You were like a marshmallow - all lovely and fluffy - about to be burnt to charcoal by the big city of New York.

“You do realise who you are ubering, right?” This Mr Walker talked back to her, making Harry twitch at the thought of this guy thinking he could speak to you in such a way. You were doing the best you could. Harry began not giving a damn about whether he was going to be late or not, he only cared that you made it through your training - and your day - so he could request for you specifically on Uber next time. He would do anything to spend more time in your presence.

“Yes, Mr Walker.”

“Well then drive faster,” He told you angrily, tilting his head away to mutter a “fuckin’ hell…” under his breath, which ignited the fire that was already simmering away under Harry’s skin.

“I think they know what they’re doing.” Harry spoke for the first time since getting inside the car. This shut up Mr Walker for the time being.

Until there came a red light, just a block a way from Harry’s office. You were in the right line, but one of the taxi drivers wasn’t and so when the green light came the taxi beeped his horn so loudly at you, making you jump a little. Harry lifted his head away from his phone to address the commotion. It was a game of cat and mouse with you and the taxi driver, as to who would give way first. The taxi driver was not polite or kind though. They pulled up in front of your car as you’d made it over the junction and to the next block, making it so you couldn’t move.

“What the—” Mr Walker had mumbled, watching as the other taxi driver got out of his car and walked over to yours. They made their way over to your car side and opened your door without a care in the world.

Harry was one, annoyed that he was late and two, really annoyed that this guy had the audacity to stop you like he did and now shout out of his arse at you.

“You fuckin’ imbecile. I was fuckin’ indicating. Are you blind?,” You just stared up at him, tears in your eyes, not having the courage to stand up for yourself, “What are you fuckin’ deaf too? This is why women can’t do shit.”

Harry was pissed off now.

It took him less than a second to clamber out of the car, walk around the car and slam your door back shut. Harry tried to keep his breathing calm, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t struggling.

“Don’t you ever speak to them like that.”

“Oh and who are you Mr Fancy Suit?” The guy chuckled, rolling his eyes as if Harry was just a random banker on his way to work. How wrong he was, unfortunately for him.

“I just happen to be a shareholder in this districts taxi services, you know since it makes so much money. So, it means that I can strip you of your vehicle and your taxi license right now if I so pleased. So I suggest that you choose your next words quite carefully.”

The man gulped down his Adams apple and turned to open your door again. Harry gestured his head at you for you to get out, so you did. Today had been awful and you didn’t need any more people shouting at you. You got out and stood slightly behind Harry, knowing he would defend you after hearing him talk through the car door.

“Ma’am i’m sorry for acting so irrationally. It won’t happen again.” He kindly spoke, making you nod your head in appreciation.

No more words were spoken.

The man went back to his taxi. Harry walked off to his building, late. You got back into your car. Mr Walker didn’t dare speak a word now.

That night, when you’d gotten home you checked your bank account for the day and your Uber app to see the comments left for you. Your eyes went wide at the money that had been transferred into your account - and all from one person, with one unique name; Mr H. Styles and one number telling you to call.

[kujakumai]

cleaned up old WIP, 2800 words, AU where Yami Bakura succeeds in switching hosts in DK and Mokuba makes friends with an evil ghost. Not going to be continued but it literally would not leave my brain alone until I finished it.

Things were not going according to plan.

The plan was to take control of a soulless puppet, an easy vessel incapable of interfering with his ends. He had the vessel, had accomplished that much, but he was not expecting the pharaoh and his little friends to succeed and convince Pegasus to give everyone their souls back. So now not only was there a second person in this body he had to keep suppressed, but now he was stuck impersonating a child, smiling through an awkward reunion and then placed onto a helicopter next to a gangly high school student who was watching him like a hawk.

The spirit-that-was-no-longer-Yami-Bakura knew that he was supposed to be Mokuba, but he did not remember the tall one's name. K-something. He had a stupid jacket and hardly took his eyes off him the entire ride, as if he thought his little brother was going to disappear in a puff of smoke when he wasn't looking. Annoying. Infuriating. Luckily it did not seem he wanted to talk, or at least accepted silence. No one expects recent kidnapping victims to say much, which was a boon. A little dazed, a little quiet, a little off, and no one really found it unusual.

They dropped off the pharaoh and his friends, and finally landed at a gaudy and ostentatious house so large it took him a second to realize it was a home at all, an absurd monument to decadence with grounds full of ugly topiaries. Wealth, then. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad. He could work with this. The rich kid in the stupid coat quietly held his hand the entire walk up the driveway, until they entered a foyer just as gilded and obscene as the outside had been.

No, things were not going to plan, and playing grade-schooler was awkward and an insult to his dignity, and he was farther away from the other millennium items as he ever had been. He would have to grit his teeth through it until he could figure out the next step. In the meantime, perhaps, enjoy some amenities.

Richie rich sighed, relaxed his shoulders the moment they got inside. He looked at who he thought was his little brother and gave him a small, exhausted but genuine smile. He struggled with what to say next.

"Mokuba," he said, "I have to check on a few things in my office. See what kind of damage they did. Do you want to come with me?"

"No." Finally, a chance to be out of this idiot's sight.

This answer seemed to surprise him, a twitch of skepticism. "Will you be okay by yourself?"

He nodded. Keep answers short, when you're impersonating.

His face betrayed more skepticism, concern, and the tiniest hint of disappointment. As if rich kid himself was the one who was scared to be alone in his own house. He accepted the answer, though, to the spirit's relief.

Rich kid bent down and pulled him into a tight hug and ruffled his hair. "We'll get something special for dinner, okay? And ice cream."

"I do like ice cream." This was true. Ryou Bakura almost never bought ice cream, and when he did it was the stupid healthy kind that everyone knew shouldn't even really qualify as ice cream, which was another reason he was a terrible host. That and the fact that he was startlingly pale and had the upper body strength of a limp noodle and the personality of skim milk. This would be better, even if he had to deal with the abrupt drop in height.

Rich kid headed off towards the staircase with another tired but trying-to-be-reassuring smile, and it was then that the spirit of the ring felt an annoyance in the back of his brain. A presence. A scratching, biting, flailing presence, screeching mad, which he had been suppressing for a while now but finally broke through.

get out get out get out get out give it back its MINE get out

The host, awake. What a bother. More rambunctious than Bakura, then? No matter. He could handle a child.

that was MY hug and MY headpat and MY big brother and you can't have them he's been gone for ages and they're mine not yours get out get out get out

The spirit pushed back, ignored him. Shush. He had planned to hold this body alone, and he did not intend to go back to sharing. If you're good, I might let you have it back for a little while later.

shut up go away go away go away go AWAY

And then Mokuba Kaiba did something, something the spirit was not accustomed to or expecting at all, something which Ryou Bakura had never been willing or able to do. He shoved, violently, and the spirit of the ring was ripped out of control with some amount of panic.

"SETOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

Why you insolent little--

Seto Kaiba was not aware of the mental turf war happening over his little brothers body. What he did see was his brother scream his name and fall down, and the whole room echoed with a metal clatter as his briefcase fell on the floor and he ran towards him.

--

The ring had been discarded unceremoniously to a side table, and not-Bakura-and-not-Mokuba-either had no choice but to wait and observe, as a pediatrician on a sudden housecall shined lights in the boy's eyes and rich kid, who the spirit had since gleaned was named Seto Kaiba, looked on in worry.

"You said you heard a voice?" The doctor asked.

"Uh-huh. I think it lives in the necklace."

"You got that thing at Pegasus's house?" Kaiba asked, in disbelief.

"I don't remember. I was just wearing it when I woke up."

"What did the voice say?" the doctor continued, professionally ignoring any talk about magic necklaces.

"Not a lot. It was kind of mean."

"I see." She turned to Kaiba. "He's fine, physically. You might want a psychologist." and Seto Kaiba made what could politely be referred to as A Face. This was not what he wanted to hear, this was news that worried and annoyed him in equal measure, and to some degree was news he had half-expected.

"He's had a rough few months. I'll look into it." and she was dismissed, and Mokuba hopped down from the counter.

"Can we order pizza?" he asked, with big pleading eyes.

Kaiba watched him with dry amusement. "Mokuba, you can have anything you want from any restaurant in a forty mile radius."

"And I want pizza. Real pizza, from somewhere that doesn't also serve caviar."

"Cheap pizza?"

He nodded very seriously. "The grossest greasiest cheapest."

"I can do that. Anything else you want?"

Mokuba's eyes lit up, and soon he was dragging Kaiba by the hand towards somewhere else in the house. "I got to this really hard level in my game I can't get past and I wanted to see if you could beat it, and I found this really cool video I wanted to show you, and I got a really good report card you never saw, and--" and months worth of pent up requests were tumbling out rapid fire, and Kaiba was smiling with affection and some amount of relief.

Loud and clingy, then, was the normal and expected behavior. The spirit of the ring made note of this, as he lie abandoned.

--

The ring was still sitting on a side table, in Mokuba's bedroom, apparently because no one knew what to with it or thought it mattered much. This was a problem. The spirit couldn't do anything without a host, and now everyone was suspicious, these stupid rich people worried too much and paid too much attention.

He was forced to sit there all night, pondering about how he was going to get out of this mess, when at one or two in the morning he observed Mokuba wake up, and rub his eyes, and hop out of bed. He did not turn the light on, but he did check the time, and reach under his bed to retrieve what appeared to be a small backpack. He took it with him as he moved quietly towards the door, and the spirit saw his chance.

Hey, kid. He was near enough to speak into his head. Maybe this wasn't a dead end.

"You!" Mokuba stopped in his tracks and looked right at the ring.

Yes, me. This could be salvaged, he thought, concocting a plan. This was a child. Play friendly ghost and imaginary friend. Surely it would not be hard to weasel himself into the good graces of a sixth grader.

Mokuba glared at the ring with suspicion. "I don't think Seto believed me when I said you could talk, but I knew it." He picked it up delicately by the string to examine.

Where on earth are you going at this time of night?

Mokuba was the current host, technically, so there was a connection, and 11 year olds are not particularly used to or adept at hiding their own thoughts, especially inside their own heads. The answer, if not in words but in abstract concept, was provided instantly as it bubbled to mind. He was going to the kitchen, as he did once or twice a week, not their personal kitchen but the house staff kitchen, where he would move a chair to stand on the counter to reach the very back of the highest shelf of the third cupboard to the left, which was where one of the cleaning staff kept a pile of chocolate so he could cheat on his diet without his wife knowing, a fact Mokuba knew through surreptitious eavesdropping. Mokuba's end was to steal just enough of it that he wouldn't be noticed, and add it to a stash of snacks and other shiny trinkets currently hidden in the bottom of a pile of legos in his closet.

...You steal food to hide in your closet? Why would a child who lived in a three-story mansion need to steal?

Mokuba was only mildly perturbed by the fact that someone had just read his mind. He was mainly curious, now. "Our dad didn't like junk food, so I always took stuff to keep around." he explained, "I guess I don't really have to anymore, 'cuz Seto will let me have whatever I want, but--" he faltered, unable to finish or give a reason.

There wasn't a reason, and Mokuba knew that. There was no need to sneak or stash or steal anymore, but he kept doing it, irrationally, for reasons that confused him, a complicated swirl of things a child could not name or understand but were very easy for the spirit to read. Fear; compulsion; habit; the illusion of safety; the sense that your life was precarious, unstable; a need to exert control over your surroundings. It was not the food or the stealing that mattered, but of the hiding, of having something they could not take away from him.

Mokuba didn't understand any of that, because he was 11 and 11 year olds don't understand why they do anything. He just knew he liked sweets and hated people telling him what to do and that having bags of chips and other people’s lost jewelry at the bottom of an old toybox made him feel better.

Can I come with you?

"No! You tried to take control of me!"

Yes, but you kicked me out, and you'd probably be able to do it again, so I would be stupid to try. I also like chocolate, you see, and it's very boring to be stuck here on your desk.

"Can you even eat? You're a necklace."

I can when I borrow a body.

"You tried to take over me so you could eat chocolate? I'm not stupid enough to believe that."

That and other things. I can't do very much at all, while stuck in the ring. No food, no sunshine, no running around. It's no fun to be without a body, which is why I am occasionally driven to steal one. Terribly sorry about that. he added, in his most pathetic-sounding tone, Please? I don't have anyone else to talk to.

Mokuba was hesitant, but clearly found the fact of his existence too interesting to ignore. "Fine." He picked up the ring and dropped it unceremoniously into his backpack, which had a dragon on it.

Not trust yet, but tolerance and curiosity. One step at a time.

You shouldn't go barefoot, you know. Socks will be quieter if you're trying not to get caught.

"I didn't ask you."

So Mokuba descended down the stairwell, in the dead quiet and dark of the Kaiba Mansion, with no flashlight because he knew it well enough to navigate blindfolded. The place was decadent in the ugly way rich people's houses were, luxury but without taste, soft carpets and gilded banisters.

Mokuba had not quite realized yet how to think at the ring, so he spoke in a low whisper. "What are you, anyway?"

A ghost. So much more complicated than that, but simple words were suitable for children.

"How'd you end up a ghost in a necklace?"

I died, and then someone put me in a necklace.

"That's not an answer." he followed up, "Do all dead people become ghosts?"

No. Just sometimes, maybe, if the way they died was especially violent or gruesome or terrible.

Mokuba frowned. He had caught on remarkably quickly to guarding his own head, but the spirit could tell he didn't like this answer.

This was delicate, but he risked a push. Was there someone you had in mind?

Mokuba said nothing. He reached the staff kitchen on the lowest floor, and opened the door, slow and careful. He was deciding whether to say anything, as he climbed up as quietly as he could and reached far into the back of the cupboard, scrabbling.

"Our dad killed himself last year. Jumped out a window." He finally said, hopping down with his spoils. He said this the same way one might dolefully report the milk had gone bad. Unfortunate but boring.

You don't sound very sad.

"Nah, he sucked. And he never liked me." he said, "Seto was really really upset though. He was pretending not to be, but I could tell." Now there were feelings there, big and weird and sad and clinging ones. For reasons the spirit could not discern, the simple phrase ‘Seto was upset’ carried with it more weight, a thousand million times more weight, than news of a father's tragic death by defenestration. "I hope he's not a ghost. I don't wanna see him again."

Probably not.

Mokuba sat down cross-legged on the kitchen floor, unwrapped candy in silver foil. "You really can't do anything from in the necklace? Like, ghost stuff? Make things float or anything?"

No. It is a bit like being trapped in a very small box.

Mokuba mulled this over for a little while. "If you wanted to borrow a body to do fun stuff, you could have just asked."

Really?

He nodded. "Not being able to eat chocolate sounds lame. It'd be mean to just leave you like that." He put one chocolate into his mouth and dumped the rest in the backpack, where they covered the ring unceremoniously. More indignities. "Not in front of my brother, though. And you have to give it back whenever I say so."

...I could agree to such a compromise. Your candy haul is impressive, by the way.

"Thanks!" He grinned, emanating genuine pride. No one had ever complimented him for stealing before.

Tragic, the work of great thieves. How the very best of it can never be bragged about, the most impressive of skills gone unnoticed by nature, how the very success of a perfect crime relies on keeping your mouth shut about it. An unappreciated art, where even mastery gains you no respect.

You don't care that this poor man has to go out and buy twice as much food to make up for what you steal?

"No, he's a jerk. One time when I was six they confiscated my gameboy, so I went to steal it back and he caught me and told my dad and I got in huge trouble. So every day for a week I snuck down here and moved his keys to a different place so he couldn't find them. They were all so mad at him for losing them all the time, and he thought he was crazy."

Why was your gameboy confiscated?

"Don't remember. I think I bit someone at school." he shrugged, "They probably deserved it, though."

Mokuba Kaiba. he said, I think you and I are going to be excellent friends.

"Okay. Do ghosts watch cartoons?"

[jjk-anime-horray]

Fuck. The. Heat.

Daichi Sawamura x Reader (Requested by Anon)

One thing about being the assistant manager of Karasuno's volleyball team is that you had to deal with a lot of drama, however, when the boys were complaining about the heat they in fact weren't being dramatic. The heat today was an absolute bitch, and quite frankly the A.C. in the gym had broken-halfway through practice yesterday. So, everyone in the gym was currently sweating enough to parch a thirsty elephants thirst, and everyone was ungodly hot which was agitating because you were currently just as hot as they were.

But what made the situation even worse is that all of you decided to go to the beach that day to make up for the oven of a gymnasium all of you had to work in. And what was a better alternative than beach volleyball. Well the fact that you may have the fattest crush on the team captain in existence, and currently he was in front of you rallying with Tanaka and Asahi shirtless. It was getting harder by the minute to contain yourself, most specifically, all of your self control from flat out staring at the thick muscles of the captain. To make it worse, the only person in the whole wide world that knew about your crush was Sugawara.

One thing Sugawara was was kind, however, one thing that the silver haired boy wasn't was non-chaotic, and he was quite mischievous. You were quite accustomed to him teasing you about your love interest.

"Enjoying the view (Y/N)?" Snickeringly came from behind you, but you didn't have to look around to know who it was.

"Har Har." You quipped back agitatedly at the silver haired setter behind you.

"You know, you should just tell him you think he's hot instead of admiring from afar, because maybe he would give you a little tour of the merchandise. I'm sure he-Ouch that was uncalled for."

You had pinched his arm to get him to stop talking, and to stop teasing you. You knew that he maybe right, but it's also a lot easier said than done for the adventure of the heart. You both knew that.

"Was it really?" you say as you quirk an eyebrow upwards.

"No, it wasn't." He chuckled through smiling lips as his shoulders bounced up and down with the activity.

"Sugawara"

"Hmm?"

"You know you're an annoying little shit right?"

"Omg (Y/N) really? Just as I thought you were ready to be nice you decide to back stab me."

The moonlight colored boy put a cream colored hand over his chest, then dramatically flicked is soft fibers on his head, face , and neck to the side away from view in a theatric display of dislike.

"You wound me (Y/N) truly, do you know how stressful it is to look this good?"

"Suga you literally set yourself up for me to roast you more than you set a volleyball."

"Um rude, you don't have to be salty just because you can't get with your senpai."

The banter between the two of you quickly escalated into a full out verbal brawl, however, from the outside view it looked quite opposite to truth. Which caught the eyes and attention of the setter's teammates, temporarily halting their rally between them.

"Wow Suga's really going for it." Nudged Tanaka to his shorter friend Nishinoya.

"Yeah he is, good for him!" The shorter boy whisper yelled to his taller friend next to him.

His commentary didn't escape the ear shot of there captain however, and all of this new information caused the muscles on his upper jaw to tense from his dislike.

"Alright you guys lets take a break, we'll meet up in a little bit."

"Sweet!" The two boy voice in unison then quickly run off to see kioyko.

"Than little shit." Daichi grumbles to himself. Deciding that he's watched this scene unfold out long enough he decides to end his own suffering and end it himself.

Suga and you didn't even notice the large foot sets patting against the stand to in front of you until the both of you hear a deep informative clearing of the throat from there to look and find the large form of Daichi.

"Um (Y/N) can I steal you for a moment?"

At this point in time your brain was going haywire and numb at the same time from the sight of the young man in front of you. The beach shirt was unbuttoned to reveal his sculpted chest and abs that could rival Captain America himself in form. Quickly to not raise suspicion you snap yourself out of your daze and answer.

"Yeah of course give me a second." That second was used to situate yourself into a standing position, and sweep the sand off your butt. "Alright, lets go!"

Much to your surprise your wrist was quickly but gently taken into the volleyball players hand and you were swiftly pulled away from the setter to a new location away from the rest of the team. Leaving the setter with a proud smirk on his face.

Once you were out of everyone else's view the captain promptly let go of your limb then starter his conversation with you.

"Do you like Sugawara?"

"What?"

"You heard me, do you like Sugawara?"

"Ummm no. Why would you think that?"

"Because you were flirting with him, kinda loudly, and it made me jealous."

"I wasn't flirting with him, wait what?" That second notion that left his mouth completely left you by surprise, and it also let the male blush and rub the back of his neck with his irrationality.

"You were jealous of him?"

"Yeah because I like you, and I just didn't tell you before because I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. Me being the grade above you and all."

All of the sudden you couldn't contain yourself, more specifically your laughter, and you knew it was bad timing, but you just came to an important realization.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh my gosh, Suga set us up."

"He did what?"

"He set this up because he both knew we liked each other, and he purposely made you jealous."

"That's not true he-" He cut himself off and looked back on the occurence of events he knew about, and quite frankly how he recently told Sugawara about his desire to ask you out and his hesitation. Suga noting his lingering glances and touches heading in your direction. The smug look on his face when he left to talk to you. Daichi finally put all of the pieces together.

"Oh my god i'm going to fucking kill him."

[thedemonstherapist]

Tension Solution

Summary: “I think this tension between us needs resolving. Be that with swords against each other’s necks or in my bed. You decide”. 

Wordcount: ~4,2K

Pairing: Kaeya Alberich x GN! Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Enemies to Lovers, Sexual innuendos, Small mentions of blood

Author’s Note: Here it is! My Kaeya enemies to fuckers piece. A huge thank you to @gnocchi-ghoul​ for Beta reading this for me! I had such fun writing this, and you all know I’m a sucker for some good tensioned sworfighting, and this smug bastard has been on my mind ever since starting to play the game. I know this is not my usual content, but I write when I want, about who I want, ok? I’ve had so little inspiration over the past months that I’ve got to take chances like these and go with them.

Banner is not mine! If you know who to credit it to, let me know, I couldn’t find it!

There he came again. That stupid coin between his fingers, flung into the air at random intervals. That stupid grin softening his face, cheerful greetings echoing through the noisy hall. Oh, and above all, that tremendously stupid way his eyes find you immediately, just trying to do your work.

You lower your gaze, pressing your pen down onto paper with renewed determination. Jean and her new open doors policy be damned, you couldn’t wait to slam it in his face. Of course it’s the last few minutes of visiting hours that he decides to come back from his commission. Three blissful weeks of calm while he was stationed out near the Liyue border, no comments, no irksome remarks, no-

“Don’t tell me you’re too busy to greet me”. 

You sigh. Kaeya observes you with his arms crossed, casually lent against the doorframe. His sword is still strapped to his back, droplets of water running down the blade, and he clearly hasn’t gone to take a shower yet, covered in dirt, mud and sporadic dried blood. 

“Captain”. You can’t help your displeasured tone. “I see you’re back”. 

“Inspector”. He raises a brow in retaliation. “I sent a notice stating my return three days ago”. 

“Oh, that”. You pick the unintelligible letter from your desk with two fingers, holding it at an arm’s length. “Apparently your messenger didn't go for a swim on the way here. Could you confirm?”

His jaw tightens momentarily, as you note with satisfaction, but it doesn’t deter the grin. “You should be used to my handwriting by now”. 

You place it back on your desk with contempt. “I am not. Hopefully your report to Jean is a little more… readable”. 

He shrugs, beginning to peel off his gloves. “She’s never complained about it”. 

Taking a deep breath, you try to calm yourself down. Kaeya tends to make you irrationally angry, and no, it wasn’t just the absolute nonchalante recklessness he treated his position and commissions with. You couldn’t count the times he’d risked more than his own life in battle, somehow always managing to pull it off in the last second. And of course, that was his surefire way to getting out of trouble, no matter how much Jean grilled him for it afterwards.

“Go clean up”. You try your best to make your dismissal abundant, leaning back over your work. “You’re dripping water on my carpet”. 

“Oh, we’re touchy today, aren’t we?” Kaeya’s grin widens into a smirk, pushing himself off the frame. “Did Fawks hit on you during your patrols again?” 

“That’s none of your business”. You shoot him a glare, tapping your nails impatiently. As if you still had the opportunity to go out on patrols, you’d been holed up in your office pretty much ever since becoming Inspector. You wished you could get out again, your body had been aching for some action for weeks, but he was the last person you’d ever confess that to.

Kaeya hums lightly, and instead of exiting, takes another step into the office. His eyes wandered your shelves with staged disinterest, but you knew he was looking for something to use as ammunition.

“I’m assuming you couldn’t hear me” you state, sarcasm adding a bite to your tone. “I told you to clean up. You look like you haven’t seen soap since leaving Mondstadt”. 

“Oh, Y/N, always so worried about my appearance” he muses, drawing closer to your desk. God, you hated that stupid cat-like expression he bore, so sly and pretentious. “I’d be more worried about yourself, frankly”. 

“I’m not playing these games, Kaeya”, you reply sharply, fingers tightening around your pen. “Go take a damn shower, and stop ruining my carpet. I don’t know why your immediate goal seems to piss me off, but I’d like to maintain some level of professional dignity between us”. 

He rolls his eyes. “By Barbatos, you really are wound up today. I doubt that’s just my fault”. 

“Be delusional, then”. You shake your head. “I don’t think Jean would appreciate another formal complaint, so do her the favour, if not for me, and get out of my office”. 

“Fine”. He turns around, but not before throwing you another glance, and damn it, you know he has one last trick up his sleeve, just by the way he says it. “However, before I forget-”. 

“What?”

“You’re pre-reading my report for Jean. Her orders”. 

---

“... and that bastard didn't even take the time to brief me about the mission outcome, the entire time he was dirtying up my office!” You end your rant with an angry flourish, slamming your hand down on the table. “I don’t know what he intended with that whole interaction, he just likes making my day so much worse!” 

Your friend chuckles, stirring her drink idly, an ocean of calm in comparison to your raging fury. “Man, if we weren’t close, I would never guess Kaeya to be such a pain in the ass. Each time I’ve encountered him he’s been so chivalrous and kind”. 

“He just can’t keep it in his pants”. You cross your arms, sitting back in your chair with a huff. “If you ever end up in his bed, I will personally hunt him down”. 

She laughs. “Oh, don’t worry, I won’t put you in that position”. 

“I just don’t understand it”. You run a hand through your hair, glancing around the tavern. It was unusually crowded for a Thursday night, you’d been lucky to get your usual table. “Why he has this stupid grudge against me. We used to be normal colleagues, back when we were both only trainee’s and officers, but then one day the switch flipped and it’s like we can’t stand the sight of each other ever since. The worst thing is, he has every last person in Mondstadt wrapped around his finger! So nobody understands my frustration!”

“First of all, Diluc exists. Second of all, aren’t you higher ranking than him?” she asks, and you regretfully shake your head. 

“No, Captains and Inspectors are on the same level. I personally didn't feel ready to be a leader in combat situations, so I passed on the opportunity. Now I miss active commissions so much, my poor sword is nothing more than an ancient relic at this point”. 

“Surely, you’ll still be sent out?” 

“I don’t have a command, the only times I might be are on extraordinarily dangerous or sizable sightings, or for assistance to Captains. Rue the day I get sent out with Kaeya”. You shudder at the thought. “That would end in total disaster”. 

“So you really have no idea why Kaeya began to dislike you so suddenly?” your friend inquires, tilting her head aside. You shake yours. “And there wasn’t some kind of incident that caused this?” 

“Not that I know of”.

A grin spreads over her face. “Hey, you ever considered that he likes you a little too much for his own good?” 

“That’s some misogynistic bullshit”, you snort. “Guys are rude to people because they like them, yeah right. That’s just trying to normalise shitty behaviour in the name of quote-on-quote love”. 

“I know that”. She gives you an exasperated look. “But… you have to admit that the two of you have some serious chemistry”. 

“What are you even talking about?” you question, downing the rest of your drink. 

“Every time you two interact”. She raises a brow knowingly. “Remember that time you were bickering on patrol through Mondstadt? I swear, even without a vision, I could see sparks between the two of you, and I wasn’t the only one, you got the entire town talking. You get on each other’s nerves because you have some unresolved tension you need to work out, and neither of you wants to admit it”. 

“Shut up”. Your cheeks suddenly feel suspiciously warm, and you firmly decide it’s the alcohol. “Fine, Kaeya’s attractive, but he’s so fucking annoying because he knows that. He messes with me ‘cause he knows how to get in my head, and gets some kind of sadistic pleasure from it”. 

Your friend makes an attempt to interrupt you, but you don’t let her, motioning to her to let you rant. “Let me finish. He was nice enough up until he got that damn ego boost after being promoted, I think, and even then I could still talk to him without the need to stab myself in the eye. He’s just so frustrating, never thinks twice about anything he does, and always gets away with it, plus he has this weird urge to always show off that stupidly toned chest of his and - by the Seven, I hate that idiot smirk of his, and the fact that he’s so damn perfect at his swordsmanship, I can’t even deny how good he is in battle, Jean has said he rivals her, and I despise that he knows he looks good while doing it, he-”

“So, how much longer were you going to let them just talk?” A voice offhandedly asks from behind you, and the blood in your veins turns to ice. Your friend smiles lazily, winking at you. 

“Oh, you know, however long they need. Y/N’s been ranting quite a bit this evening, you really get on their nerves”. 

You whip around, and sure enough, there he is, the cause of this mess. Kaeya has his arms folded, grinning down at you with thinly veiled satisfaction. You’re pretty sure half of the tavern is watching, and your blood turns from freezing to seething within seconds. 

“How long have you been there?” you ask stiffly, glaring at your friend. She pulls an innocent face, leaning back in her seat with performative disinterest. Traitor. 

“Just long enough to hear what I needed to”. Kaeya’s grin is threatening to split his face in half. “You really think I’m that attractive, huh? I never would have guessed”. 

You jump up from your chair, spitting out the first thing that comes to mind. “Fight me”. 

He actually laughs, a few of the tavern occupants joining in. “What? Are you sure you’re not mixing up a couple words there?”

You clench your jaw, deciding to just go with it. “Fight me. Knights of Favonius training ring, tomorrow morning. I’m sick of your attitude”. 

“Oh?” He cocks a brow at you. “I hope you’re ready after wasting away in that office of yours”. 

“I could beat you blindfolded”, you reply presumptuously, mimicking his stance, unable to ignore the fact that he smells a little too good for your tipsy state. At least he finally took your orders. You hold his stare regardless, unwilling to give in.

“Thank the Seven, you’re working this out at last”, your friend sighs, sipping at her drink. “And here I thought you’d take the sexual tension to the grave”. 

Kaeya’s lip twitches in amusement as he extends one hand. “Tomorrow morning at seven. I’ll try not to kill you then, for that sake alone”.

You give him a dirty look, reluctantly shaking his hand. “Your chance of me doing the same is decreasing with every word that leaves your mouth”. 

“I can live with that”. He suddenly leans closer, and before you can pull away, whispers in your ear, sultry tone leaving the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. “You’re going down, darling”. 

Like Hell you are.

---

The training hall is usually relatively empty at this time of day. Some dedicated trainee’s use the morning to get their routine over, but otherwise, not many knights exercise this early. And though at least a few of them must have heard of what happened last night, not many are to be seen. Even if you could live with an audience, you decide this way is perfectly fine, especially in case of the (distinctly undesirable and should-be-impossible outcome) of you losing to him. You’re a bit out of breath from warming up, fixing your shirt before making your way over to the ring.

Kaeya is waiting for you there, clad in athleisure and in the midst of testing out a beginner’s sword. His vision is nowhere to be seen, and you curse him a little for not giving you something more to berate him for. Nevertheless, you straighten up as you approach.

“Good morning”, you greet him nonchalantly, walking over to inspect the racks of weapons. 

A grin flashes across his face as he turns around, wiping the sweat off his brow. “Hello, darling”.

“Sweating already?” You raise a brow at him, deciding to ignore the nickname. “And here I thought I’d have a challenge”. 

Kaeya laughs, rolling out his wrist. “You are cute when you’re acting tough”. Tilting his head aside, he watches you take your pick of one of the swords. The morning light bathes him in a soft glow, falling through the high windows, hair tied up in a messy bun at the back of his head, and- wait. Your cheeks grow hot as you realise what absurd directions your thoughts are heading to. Your friend must have gotten under your skin more than you realised last night. 

Shaking your head a little, you roll your shoulders back and face him head-on. “Whatever makes you feel better. For the rules, as by training code, drawing blood is an immediate end”. 

“No visions, no hits near the head or vital organs, dull blades and stop means stop”, Kaeya counts up calmly, making his way to the center of the ring. His blue eye gleams playfully in the light, and he swings the sword near aimlessly while walking. You grit your teeth at his relaxed manner. He wasn’t taking this seriously at all, huh?

“Don’t worry, Inspector”. He winks as he comes to a halt before you, maintaining the mandated arm’s distance. “I know the rules”. 

“I’d hope so”, you reply, getting into position and watching him do the same. You decide to stir the pot a little, knowing it’s best to get into his head, and feign a smile. “I can’t wait until the rest of the knights hear about how royally I kicked your ass”. 

He laughs lowly, and is immediately on the attack. Anticipating such, after years of observing him in battle, you parry it easily, ducking aside to avoid the next one. You wait until he’s nearly backed you into the corner, ego visibly growing with every move he makes, and take a rolling dive, knocking his legs out from under him with your own. 

He manages to catch himself, and you’re relieved by the split-second of surprise in his expression. You withdraw towards the middle, blowing a stray strand of hair out of your face and, in a rush of adrenalin, smirk at him. “Not so confident now, are we, Captain?”

“You’re not as out of shape as I anticipated”, he counters, slashing his sword through the air as he repositions himself. Brows narrowing playfully, he adds: “It’ll make it more fun to thoroughly take you apart”. 

You don’t give him more time to prepare. Blades crash onto each other as he masterfully deflects your attacks, and it doesn’t take long for the two of you to get out of breath. Neither of you can land a hit, no matter how feasible it seems. He handles the comparatively bulky sword with enviable ease, and you grow frustrated quickly, unable to break through his defences. In turn, you don’t let him back you into any corner, constantly keeping the playing field level and returning every new strike with your own.

“You know what, I’ve missed this”, Kaeya pants, quick to switch hands as you sidestep him, attempting to land a hit on his blinde side. 

“Huh?” is all you can answer in return, deflecting his counter aimed at your back, and darting aside. 

“Training”. He nearly misses the parry, forced to back up if not to risk a blow to his abdomen. “With you”. He shoots you a brash smile, easily twisting out of your range.

You huff, irritated at the fact that he still has the mind to flirt. “Your silver tongue isn’t getting you out of this one”. 

“I meant it”. And of damn course, his tactic worked, the point of his blade sinking into your shoulder. “Remember when we used to practise together?” 

“Before you became a dick, you mean?” you shoot back, attempting an aggressive strike at his lower thigh. Your body is getting sore, heart pounding against your ribcage, breaths coming out short and strained, but despite it all, you’re enjoying this. In any case, you’d rather die than admit to him that you’re having fun. 

You really needed to get out of your office more.

Kaeya laughs, equally exhausted, before advancing at an alarming speed. “I’ll give you that one, darling”. 

Your blades cross, metal clashing loudly, and you can see an opportunity form as he shortly weakens his hold. Rotating your sword in the opposite direction to try and hook beneath his, you’re so distracted by the possibility of disarming him that you don’t notice the satisfaction that washes over his expression as you do. One swift swipe of his foot and you’re falling backwards, weapon nearly ripped from your hand. 

Your back hits the mat with full force, air knocked out of your lungs, causing you to give a strangled gasp. Kaeya is smirking down at you, but he’s as out of breath as you are and there’s sweat soaking his shoulders. You don’t think before you move, so infuriated by the words you know are about to leave his mouth, fingers tightening around the handle. 

The hit against his shins sends him to the ground, but not sideways as planned, instead straight onto you. You don’t have the time or the mind to roll out of the way, and he tries very hard to catch himself, hands landing on either side of you. You yelp as most of his weight hits you, momentarily forgetting what’s even happening. 

 “Fuck”, Kaeya groans, arms shaking as he tries to brace himself. “You like playing dirty, don’t you?” 

Slowly regaining the ability to breathe after nearly being crushed, your eyes dart to see him dangling over you, legs and lower body resting on your own. If anyone hears of this out of context, you’re moving to the other end of Teyvat. He’s panting, no doubt as shocked as you are, strands of his hair tickling your nose. His face is mere inches away from yours, heat seeping through his clothes onto your skin. 

Decidedly too close.

Your blade kissing his throat is a much better sight. You know you’re technically breaking the rules, but the way his eye widens, corners of his mouth twitching and brows raising to the sky is just too good of a picture. 

“Get off me”. You growl, trying to steady yourself with your other hand. 

His laugh sounds astounded, but contrary to your demand, he does not. Instead, his chin juts forward, pressing the metal into his skin for earnest. There’s no blood, of course, all these swords are dulled to near uselessness, but it does leave you speechless at the amount of reckless pride he seems to possess. 

 Kaeya hums, clearly satisfied at your reaction. “I’ll be honest, this is not how I initially pictured you under me”. 

What a smug son of a-

“Oh, fuck off”. Your knee makes contact with his stomach and he rolls off you with a grunt. You scramble to your feet, grimacing at what you're sure will be a bruised tailbone later. He’s already composed himself, twirling his sword idly as you get a proper grip on your own. Looking you up and down, his grin widens into a smirk.

“Though you do look similar to the imaginary aftermath”. 

“I am going to kill you”, you hiss, red flashing before your eyes as you charge at him. Kaeya begins to laugh once more, but it quickly dies down as your moves become more and more aggressive, driving him out of the ring and towards the wall. The thought of whoever may be around again crosses your mind, but honestly, you can’t care about who may be watching, every last bit of strength you have left is focused on Kaeya and his stupid fucking face and the way he evades your strikes with a precision that only leaves to be desired to every onlooker. It makes you want to actually scream. You finally land two hits on him, arms beginning to shake from exhaustion and overwhelming adrenalin. 

But once more, Kaeya catches you off guard. The switch flips just as his leg hits the wall and you’re just beginning to notice your own smile, sure of your victory. His expression darkens, lip caught in his teeth as his eyes narrow down at you. 

Your blades clash as they did before, and of course he uses your own move against you, managing to perfect it. Your sword goes flying to the ground, and the moment you lose your grip is the moment you’re being slammed against the wall that he was nearly backed up against mere seconds ago. The tip of his sword is digging into the soft skin of your throat, positioned perfectly above your Adam's apple. 

Suddenly, it goes very quiet, the silence only interrupted by your laboured breaths. Maybe it’s the fact that he near literally has a knife to your throat, but you can’t tear your eyes away from him. His hand is pressing on your shoulder, pinning you to the wall, keeping you in place. His leg is slotted between yours, barring you from moving an inch. 

For the first time since you’ve met him, you have nothing to do but to admire him. Sweat is making his hair stick to his skin, an exhausted flush upon his dark cheeks. His body is visibly tense, stare boring into yours with a kind of intensity you’ve only ever seen during active combat. There’s nothing unintentional about the way he’s restraining you, nothing hesitant about the placement of the blade against your skin. His chest is heaving, teeth digging into his lip in constrained effort, fingers digging into your shoulder as if expecting you to fight back.

You don’t. 

Instead, you let out a shaky breath. The adrenalin is still surging through you, but you can’t feel the constant urge to punch him in the gut anymore. Huh. Weird. 

“You won”. Your voice is calmer than it ever has been talking to him, accepting of your defeat. Plus, your body is beginning to realise that whatever just happened hurt, and quite a bit at that. You wince, knowing you’re going to need some ice to get through the rest of the day. 

Kaeya shakes his head determinedly, stare not wavering. “You had me in practically the same position less than a minute ago. You could have flipped me over with ease and won. You didn't. That’s the only reason I got you here”. His grip on your shoulder eases up. “We’re equal”. 

Withdrawing the sword from your neck, he takes a step back, relinquishing his hold on you. You feel strangely dazed, automatically reaching to check for cuts on your neck. “I guess?”

“You okay?” He sounds relatively quiet as well, nearly uneasy, which does not fit the overconfident persona he usually bears. Whatever tension there was before has yielded to something more cautious, like strangers navigating their way across broken ice. 

You nod, reaching to pick up your sword. “Fine”. You pause briefly, debating your words before meeting his eye again. “That was… good exercise. Thanks for fighting me”. 

He laughs a little, and you’re taken aback by how much you don’t feel like reacting. What was going on? At the latest after that laugh you’d usually be back at his throat. 

“Sure”. There’s the typical amusement in his face, but his smile is less egregious and smug. It’s… kind? “I’d have no problem repeating it”. 

You raise your shoulders, unsure of what to do now. “I guess… I wouldn’t either?”

“Good”. He runs a hand through his hair in an effort to fix the mess it’s become. You’re beginning to hear the confidence you’re used to re-enter his words, but it doesn’t appear to bother you. “Friday’s at seven, then. We’ll make it a regular thing”.

“Trying to kill each other?” You surprise yourself with the attempt to ease the tension, and why in the world do you have the urge to smile at the sight of his?

“If that’s how you want to see it”. He shrugs, placing his sword back on the racks. Glancing over his shoulder, he regards you for a long moment. “I think your friend is right”. 

“In what regard?” you ask, in principle fully aware of what that expression means for you. 

Kaeya’s shit-eating grin has made its way back onto his face. “I think this tension needs resolving. Whatever means it takes”. 

You can hear the words in your head before he says them. 

“Be that with swords against each other’s necks or in my bed. You decide”.