#without dealing with white nonsense

[jonathanbyersphd]

I do not care if it’s unrealistic there is something so compelling about two people who have known each other their entire lives but don’t really see each other until they’re forced together during the worst week of their lives. Going through something incredibly traumatic and they are the only ones that understand exactly what happened because they were there for each other. Somehow falling in love with each other in the midst of it. Then trying their fucking hardest to deny feelings and resume “normal”  life but they can’t because of the way that they’re bonded together. And they have a matching mark that they both chose to give themselves to prove it. Choosing to be in love knowing that they would each change that first week if they could. Looking at all the garbage they’ve gone through and knowing they can endure whatever comes next even if it seems impossible. Reaching for each other’s hands as they brace for the apocalypse because there isn’t an alternative.

[timeisacephalopod]

Love atheist communities that hate Christianity but reproduce every single issue Christianity has right down to the racism, wild misogyny, and of all fuckin things evangelizing atheism by sending religious people rude ass 'gotcha' type reactionary content to like idk, recruit people to atheism the way Certian Brands of Christian recruit literally anyone to their religion.

Like yes this atheism is what I see a lot of white men participating in, but like how dense do you have to be to only ditch the GOD part of religion and nothing else while claiming you're intellectually superior to religious folks like a great many incredibly talented and smart people in various sciences weren't religious?

[pin-k-ink]

UNDER ONE ROOF ⋆✦⋆ kuroo tetsurou

synopsis ➸ kuroo didn’t know what he was agreeing to when he said yes to watching over you for two weeks. now, with you constantly coming onto him, he’s quickly realizing how hard it is to say no—and how much he doesn’t want to.

tags ➸ dílf!kuroo, huge age gap (20s + 40s), unhèalthy relationship dynamics, manipùlation, reader is a huge brat and she will get on your nerves, brat tamer!kuroo, mastúrbation (m & f), jealousy, possèssive behavior, dírty talking, gròping, heavy pétting, manhándling, mention of an injúry, degradàtion, slút-shàming, dry hùmping, unprotected séx, marathon séx, face fućking, bloŵjob, squírting, beggíng

wc ➸ 20.6k (i’m so sorry 💀)

"Dad, I'll be fine. You're overreacting as usual." You struggled to keep the exasperation out of your tone as Kenma pulled up to Kuroo's apartment complex.

Kenma killed the engine but kept a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. "I'm not overreacting. I'm being realistic based on your...track record." His jaw clenched minutely before continuing. "Just promise me you'll exercise some semblance of self-control this time?"

You pursed your lips, refraining from an outright eye roll. "It wasn't that big of a deal, okay? A few too many people at my place, that's all."

The flat, unamused look Kenma leveled your way made you shrink back slightly. "Neighbors had to call the police to break up your 'few too many people,' and I had to bail you out after they found you...indecently exposed with two random guys. Again."

Heat crept up the back of your neck at the reminder. In your defense, you'd been severely intoxicated and those two strangers had been very persuasive...and enthusiastic. Not that your father wanted to hear any of the details, based on the muscle ticking in his jaw.

"Look, that's why I'm leaving you with Kuroo this time," he pressed on, voice taking on that no-nonsense edge. "He'll keep you in line until I get back from this business trip. No promiscuous behavior, no binge drinking, nothing that could jeopardize your future."

Your fists clenched at the insinuation you were just some reckless, irresponsible child who needed constant supervision. Yes, maybe you enjoyed letting loose a bit more than most well-behaved college students. But you were an adult, damn it! Perfectly capable of looking after yourself without strict babysitting.

Before you could unleash the sharp retort burning on your tongue, there was a rap on the window. Kuroo's laidback grin appeared in the glass as he waggled his fingers in greeting.

"Ah, right on time! Was starting to worry you two had bailed on me," he chuckled, eyes crinkling in that easygoing way you'd always adored.

You seized the opportunity to exit the car before further lecturing could commence. Kuroo pulled you into one of his trademark bear hugs once you were vertical, squeezing with affectionate zeal.

"Took you long enough to get here, troublemaker," he murmured fondly into your hair. "Was starting to think I'd have to stay bored and lonely without my best girl around."

A pleasant shiver danced along your nape at the husky timbre of his voice so close to your ear. Kuroo had always been an indulgent, affectionate presence in your life - a welcome counterbalance to Kenma's frequently stern parenting. Growing up, you'd often admired the easy charisma and confidence your father’s best friend exuded. Part of you wondered, in a distant, abstract way, what it might be like to bask in that roguish charm aimed at you directly...

You quickly banished the stray thought, burying your face into Kuroo's solid chest instead as his arms tightened further. "Don't be so clingy, old man. I'll only be here for a couple weeks."

Behind you, the driver's side door creaked open, signaling Kenma's arrival. Kuroo tossed your father a grin over your head, not loosening his hold on you in the slightest.

"Ah, there's the doting dad now! C'mon, we can continue the lecture inside over some beers." His eyes danced with undisguised amusement as Kenma bristled slightly at the jab.

"Very funny, Kuroo," Kenma muttered, mouth set in a flat line. "But I do need to lay down some ground rules if she's staying with you for a while."

You extricated yourself from Kuroo's snug embrace, stepping back and crossing your arms over your chest defiantly as Kenma stepped closer. The tension between the two best friends thrummed familiarly - Kuroo radiating easy humor while Kenma maintained stern disapproval.

Your dad took a steadying breath before fixing you with a level stare. "I'm serious about this. You are not to throw any parties, end up in compromising positions with strangers, or make any unilateral decisions that could derail your education-"

"Oh my god, Dad!" The whine escaped before you could stop it. "I'm an adult, not a misbehaving toddler! When are you going to start treating me that way?"

Kenma opened his mouth, eyes flashing dangerously, but Kuroo quickly moved to insert himself between you both. His hands landed on your shoulders, calm yet firm, pulling your heated focus to him.

"Now now, you two, let's not jump straight into argument mode so soon. We'll have plenty of time to bicker later." He shot you a wink before shifting his gaze to Kenma. "I've got this under control. I know exactly how to keep our little hellraiser in line without killing her spirit."

Kenma stared at his friend, a thousand unspoken retorts flickering behind his eyes. You could practically see his inner monologue debating whether he could truly trust the two of you alone together for an extended period. At last, a weary sigh slipped past his lips.

"Fine, I'm putting my faith in you, Kuroo. For now." He leveled you with one final, intense stare that made you want to squirm. "But any misbehavior at all and I'm sending in reinforcements, understood?"

Whether he meant to hire an actual bodyguard or simply sick your mother on you, the threat was painfully clear. You nodded tersely, holding Kenma's gaze and refusing to be the first to look away. A battle of wills you were determined not to lose, if only to prove how much of an "adult" you were.

At last, Kuroo chuckled and slung a companionable arm around your shoulders, breaking the weighted tension between you and your father. "See? All settled! Now how about you head out and let me get my quality niece-uncle bonding time in before she gets sick of me?"

Though the sarcastic jibe brought a faint smirk to Kenma's lips, you could tell his dubious hesitation lingered. Nevertheless, your father stepped forward to enfold you in a tight hug, one you returned fiercely despite your earlier exasperation.

Kenma pulled away first, squeezing your shoulder and studying your features carefully. "Stay out of trouble. Please? For me?"

You mustered up your most reassuring smile, leaning in to peck his cheek lightly. "I'll be a perfect angel, Daddy. I promise."

The obvious lie should have rankled more than it did. But Kenma simply sighed and shook his head in resignation, adjusting his grasp on his travel bag as he prepared to depart.

"I'll hold you to that. Behave for Kuroo and...and I'll see what souvenir I can find for you in Italy..."

His muttered bribe brought an inadvertent grin to your lips as Kuroo ushered you back toward the apartment with a theatrical bow and exaggerated flourish of his free arm.

"And so the bonding festivities commence! C'mon troublemaker, prepare for the best girls' staycation your hot single uncle can provide!"

Kuroo's playful declaration had you rolling your eyes so hard they threatened to relocate. "Hot single uncle? Seriously? That's just creepy on so many levels."

He shrugged unapologetically, steering you through the lobby with his arm still slung around your shoulders. "What? I'm hot, I'm single, and while not technically related by blood, I'm about as close to an uncle as you've got."

You pulled a face of exaggerated disgust. "Please don't ever call yourself my uncle again. That's like...an instant boner-killer."

Kuroo's barking laughter echoed through the small space, and you grinned despite yourself. There was something innately infectious about his easy charm and rapscallion energy. "Wow, damn! Way to just completely obliterate any sense of family-friendly bonding, kiddo."

"Don't call me kiddo either," you retorted as the elevator doors slid open with a chime. "I'll be twenty-two next month, remember? Not exactly a child anymore."

You could feel the heat of Kuroo's assessing stare sliding over you, just on the periphery of your vision. The casual rake of it made you sit up fractionally straighter, all too aware of how your low-cut shirt gapped to reveal hints of cleavage from this angle.

"Oh trust me, I'm well aware you're not a kid anymore," he murmured, the undercurrent to his tone giving you pause.

But when you glanced over at him, Kuroo's expression was as impassively playful as ever. Not a single lascivious hitch to indicate he might have been venturing into more suggestive waters...which, of course, was precisely where your own thoughts had begun meandering unbidden.

The elevator dinged your arrival at Kuroo's floor, and he ushered you out ahead of him with a hand pressing warmth to the small of your back. The hallway blurred past in a vague tableau of drab carpeting and nondescript doors until he was guiding you into the first one off the small entry corridor.

You turned in a slow circle as Kuroo flipped on the lights, taking in the surprisingly spacious guest suite. Abstract art prints lined the walls, lending a vibrant splash of color amidst the black furniture and modern fixtures.

"Not too shabby," you remarked, lifting an impressed brow Kuroo's way. "Not what I pictured at all for a washed-up old man with no wife or life."

Kuroo scoffed in faux-offense, tossing the small duffel of clothes Kenma had packed for you onto the plush queen bed. "First off, I'm only fourty-six, brat. Second, I'll have you know this place is basically an Adonis' palace where all the finest honeys flock."

You quirked a dubious eyebrow, gaze deliberately sweeping over the space with exaggerated appraisal. "Right, 'cause I can totally see you whipping out those cheesy lines while trying to seduce some poor girl back here."

Before you could evade, Kuroo closed the distance and yanked you flush against his chest in a grip far more sensual than the earlier hug. You inhaled sharply at the sudden intimate proximity, meeting his intense stare from beneath your lashes. Kuroo smelled of sandalwood and peppery musk, a scent that was bafflingly more intoxicating than you'd ever noticed.

"Who says I'd need lines other than the truth?" He murmured, voice pitched low enough to ghost tingles down your nape. "Why go for cheesy when 'I want you' works just as well in the right tone?"

Your mouth felt abruptly parched, throat clicking in a tight swallow you couldn't quite stifle. The steady thrum of Kuroo's heart against your own fluttering pulse made you hyperconsciously aware of the lack of space between your bodies. The hard wall of his chest, the sinuous strength of his arms bracketing you against him, the faint tickle of his breath against your brow...

You rallied yourself with visible effort, putting on a show of extracting yourself from his arms and rolling your eyes in dismissal. "Wow, Kuroo, can't take you anywhere without the bachelor desperation vibes taking over," you chided with an airy laugh. "Good thing any girl with half a brain knows your bark is way worse than that impotent bite of yours."

Kuroo snorted, clearly unfazed by the brush-off. "Ouch, that hurts coming from my favorite companion." He hooked a thumb over his shoulder toward the hallway. "C'mon, I'll give you the full penthouse tour while the slander is fresh."

As you followed him out, you couldn't resist one final flustered jab. "Please, do not refer to me as your 'companion' ever again. I don't need those gross old-man vibes getting all over me."

But even as the teasing counters continued flowing freely between you, brimming with practiced ease and playful brio, a newfound undercurrent seemed to lace each exchange. There was a thrilling energy now, veins of irresistible temptation and tension brimming just beneath the surface.

You found your gaze continually straying to trace the lines of Kuroo's body in ways it never had before. Mapping the shift of firm muscle and masculine definition barely concealed beneath his fitted t-shirt. Fixating on the sharp hollow of his throat each time he tilted his head back in unrestrained laughter. Drinking in the ruggedly handsome contours of his face as if seeing them for the very first time through the lens of burgeoning desire rather than familial fondness.

And from the heated glances you continually intercepted raking over your own frame, Kuroo seemed equally as preoccupied with thoroughly appreciating the woman you'd matured into, absently licking his lips whenever you turned away. Almost as if he too were acutely, viscerally aware of the new precedents being set between you.

Still, when you wandered back to flop gracelessly onto your temporary bed with a contented sigh, Kuroo knew better than to allow things to escalate too precipitously. One broad palm landed atop your head, smoothing your tumbled hair back from your forehead with an endearment more akin to an indulgent older brother than anything else.

You shot him a sly look from beneath your lashes, immediately recognizing this for what it was - Kuroo's subtle attempt to steer you both back into familiar, innocuous territory before the simmering undercurrents got away from you.

Well, two could play at that game.

With a put-upon huff, you rolled onto your back, deliberately arching your spine in an indolent stretch that made your shirt ride up to bare a sliver of toned midriff. You caught the telltale stutter in Kuroo's breathing, the way his heated stare latched onto the newly exposed stretch of skin like a magnet.

Slowly, methodically, you trailed your fingertips along the taut vee of muscles just visible beneath the hem of your top. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips in a show of exaggerated absentmindedness as you continued trailing indolent circles around your navel.

"Mmm, you know..." you murmured, letting your voice drop into a lower, sultrily purring register that had Kuroo's undivided attention snapping back to your face. "I could use a little...stress relief after Dad's interrogation out there."

You punctuated the blatant invitation with another tantalizing arch of your spine, pushing your breasts higher and straining against the thin fabric. A calculated glance slanted his way revealed Kuroo swallowing hard, looking distinctly like a man warring with his baser instincts.

"I'm sure we could find a fun way for us both to unwind after he put me through the wringer," you pressed, tracing patterns lower, dangerously closer to the button of your too-tight shorts. "Work off all that...heated tension before you call me out for dinner?"

Kuroo's nostrils flared as his jaw went rigid, and for a breathless heartbeat, you were certain he would finally succumb. That the carnal need simmering behind those sharp hazel eyes would win out over restraint and detonate between your tangled forms here and now. Your blood thrummed with peaky arousal, entire body liquid heat and tightly-coiled anticipation.

But then Kuroo expelled a low, rueful chuckle and the spell was broken. He raked one broad palm through the artful disarray of his hair, regarding you with an undeniable glint of dark amusement that only fuelled your petulance.

"Nice try, kiddo," he husked, the low timbre sending unwanted tingles rocketing through you. "But you're gonna have to work harder to unravel me with those moves. Not my first time fending off your wiles, remember?"

Your lips twisted in a pout you knew full well drew his gaze inexorably. "Maybe I don't want to just fend you off," you retorted, hoping the petulant whine in your tone conveyed precisely how turned on you were feeling. "Maybe this time, getting you riled up is the entire point."

Kuroo's brows winged higher as his gaze openly raked over your splayed form once more. This time, his yearning appraisal brought tingles of wicked satisfaction rather than self-consciousness.

"Trust me, gorgeous," he managed at last, voice gone tellingly husky. "Part of me would love nothing more than showing you just how riled you've gotten me. But we both know how that story has to end – with your dad hunting me down and gelding me within an inch of my life."

Your mouth opened to formulate a retort - a scathing denial of your tame, saintly reputation that had Kenma forever playing over-protective warden. But Kuroo didn't give you the chance to voice it.

One broad, calloused palm cupped your cheek with surprising tenderness, the rough pads of his fingers trailing sparks against your suddenly oversensitized skin. You felt the air leave your lungs in a harsh exhalation, held paralyzed beneath the searing, unguarded intensity of Kuroo's molten stare.

"So as tempting as you look," he rasped in that low, wrecked timbre that shot liquid heat arrowing through your core, "I'm not about to jeopardize what we've got over one round of pent-up games, yeah?"

Something inside you clenched at the implicit reminder – no matter what sinfully delicious tension existed between you, Kuroo still saw himself as almost family at the end of the day. He would never actually cross that forbidden line, no matter how persistently you tempted and goaded.

The realization flooded you with an odd blend of yearning, frustration, and reluctant respect for his restraint. You opened your mouth to spit out whatever caustic retort might help preserve your carefully cultivated blasé front-

"Tell you what," Kuroo pressed on before you could marshal the words, his thumb tracing a searing path along the plump bow of your lower lip in a blatantly intimate caress. "You promise to stow that wicked mouth and insatiable appetites of yours for the rest of the evening? And I'll take you shopping tomorrow night, just the two of us."

Your breath hitched audibly as he leaned closer still, heated exhalation gusting against the sensitized whorls of your ear to send delicious tingles arrowing straight to your core.

"Show me you can be an honest-to-god good girl for once, and I'll give you a grand adventure worth staying out of trouble for..."

With that sinful promise dangling tantalizingly in the air, Kuroo pulled back, lips curved in that same roguish smirk yet now laced with the undisguised promise of rewards still to come. He regarded you through heavy-lidded bedroom eyes, blatantly awaiting your breathless capitulation or further, fruitless temptation.

Your chest heaved with sharp, ragged pants you couldn't quite stifle. With tremendous effort of will, you kept your rebuttals and wanton offers leashed, refusing to give him any further cause to refuse your attempts at seduction outright. Not when the carrot of some unknown indulgence dangled so enticingly above you.

Eventually, Kuroo seemed satisfied by your mute surrender. He dipped his chin, lips brushing your fevered brow in a shockingly tender brand of possession and benediction.

"Good girl," he murmured in a hoarse growl that had your core musculature fluttering anew. "Put this behind us for now, and I promise you'll get everything you've been craving later..."

With one final searing caress that felt burned into the curve of your flushed cheek long after he retreated, Kuroo turned and made his way out of the guest suite. Leaving you a hot, shaky mess of thwarted need and simmering what ifs that felt poised to burst into searing reality sooner rather than later – even if he wouldn't be so easily taken before then.

As Kuroo moved about the kitchen preparing dinner, his thoughts were utterly consumed by the simmering tension now charging the air between you and him. He couldn't tear his mind away from replaying your bold attempts at seduction earlier, or how painfully tempting you'd looked splayed out so wantonly on the guest bed.

His hands stilled on the cutting board, knife poised over half-chopped vegetables as Kuroo's gaze went hazy with recollection. The way your shirt had ridden up to tease at soft midriff and the teasing vee of your hips. The subtle roll of your spine as you arched into an indolent stretch - so calculated yet seemingly artless in its invitation. And that come-hither rasp of your voice dropping into unrepentant sin, offering searing delights Kuroo shouldn't even entertain indulging.

A harsh exhalation gusted past his lips as desire, so cruelly reawakened yet stubbornly restrained, gave a sullen throb low in his groin. Kuroo couldn't deny being utterly transfixed when you turned your wiles on him like that. Some deep, primal part of him yearned to surrender - to take you up on that scorching proposal and show you exactly how "riled" you'd gotten him all these years with the slow burn of your teasing.

In his mind's eye, Kuroo easily pictured stalking back over to crouch above your reclined form, pinning your wrists to the mattress on either side of your head. He'd drink in every molten inch of you spread wantonly before him, from the sheen of exertion and arousal glazing your skin to the impudent quirk of your lips as you challenged him to make good on unvoiced threats.

Kuroo could practically taste the erotic potential crackling between your barely parted forms. All it would take was one decisive roll of his hips to grind his cock against your cloth-dampened heat. You'd stifle a strangled sound of yearning, back arching greedily to chase that first forbidden frisson—

"Tetsurou?"

The sound of his given name on your lips jolted Kuroo violently from his spiraling fantasy. The knife slipped in his suddenly vice-like grip, knicking open his palm with a bright blossom of crimson. He hissed out a sharp curse, both at the stinging pain and the fact he'd been so utterly consumed by his hunger for you he hadn't registered your approach.

You tsked sympathetically from somewhere behind him now, sending tingles of visceral awareness skating down his nape. "Need me to kiss it better and make the owie go away?" You crooned in that soft, saccharine tone Kuroo knew damn well was more velvet sheath for venom than genuine innocence.

He whirled to face you, pulse jackrabbiting beneath his ribs when he found you perched on the counter directly beside the scene of his lapse in focus. One leg was folded up against your chest, the other swinging lazily off the edge - all purposefully indolent insouciance and inescapable awareness of the effect you had on him.

"How generous," Kuroo forced out in a roughened rumble, trying for glib detachment even as his gaze raked hungrily over the strip of thigh exposed beneath your tiny sleep shorts. "Pretty sure I've got some bandaids around here somewhere that'll work just as well, but thanks."

Rather than retreating, you merely smirked wider and leaned forward a fraction, putting your breasts on indecently tantalizing display in that threadbare tanktop. "Suit yourself. But I was hoping for an excuse to get on my knees and lavish some personal attention for once..."

The blatant invitation hung suspended between you in a haze of static charge and spiraling heat. Kuroo could feel his self-restraint fast eroding, each labored breath stoking the banked embers of temptation simmering hotter by the second. His mind raced frantically, scrambling for some witty deflection or hasty retreat—

Before he could succeed, your tongue slipped out to trace a maddeningly slow path over the plump swell of your lower lip. "You know I've been told I have exceptional mouth-to-mouth skills for this sort of...situation," you murmured, voice pitched low and rough enough to feel like a physical caress along his thundering pulse. "Seems a shame to let that talent go to waste any longer than necessary, hmm?"

Kuroo couldn't stop the low, graveled growl of undisguised yearning that tore free from somewhere primal and smoldering at your teasing insinuation. Nor could he tear his gaze away from the wanton paths your fingertips traced over the bare expanses of skin you'd so meticulously put on display. Stomach clenching with mingled arousal and heated frustration, he took a single step forward, fully intending to—

He cut himself off sharply, turning on his heel and stalking away from the temptation of your poised, feline sprawl with every ounce of restraint he could muster. You watched him flee with heavy-lidded awareness, lips curved in a victorious smirk that only stoked Kuroo's smoldering urgency further.

"I need a cold fucking shower," he tossed over his shoulder in a guttural rasp. "Don't wait up, gorgeous. I'll come collect you when I've regained some goddamn rationale around that mouth of yours..."

The last, damning word seemed to resonate in the weighted silence he left hanging in his wake. Kuroo tried desperately to focus on the promise of frigid spray rather than the tortuous vision of your plump lips wrapped so prettily around that very phrase - and what other searing delights they might bring to blissful fruition between your tangled forms.

Somehow, he had to regain control before the next few weeks of close proximity eroded the last of his resolve entirely. You deserved far better than falling to his weaknesses in such a desperate moment. And he deserved far sterner retribution than even Kenma could deliver should he ever give in to the temptation of tainting you so profanely...

Dinner passed in a tense spiral of heated glances and loaded silence. Despite your outward veneer of angelic politeness, Kuroo could see the glint of challenge smoldering behind every coy flutter of lashes directed his way.

You seemed utterly focused on dismantling his restraint inch by excruciating inch. From the way you lapped up every stray crumb or droplet of sauce from your full lips with maddening leisure, to the insistent press of your stocking-clad foot tracing sinuous paths along his calf beneath the table's cover. Each tiny gauntlet thrown down made Kuroo's blood rush hotter, stoking his arousal to increasingly painful intensity with every passing moment.

By the time you'd retired for the evening with a sultry murmur of "Sweet dreams, Tetsu," Kuroo could barely see straight past the relentless fog of yearning clouding his thoughts. His skin felt seared from your seemingly innocuous caresses and teasing touches, every nerve ending overwrought to the point of maddening hypersensitivity.

The second Kuroo's bedroom door thudded closed behind him, he was already shucking his clothes in a fevered whirlwind - buttons popping and fabric tearing as he frantically shed the barriers separating him from the relief he so desperately craved. Within moments he collapsed back onto his bed in only his boxers, hand shoved unceremoniously beneath the tented cotton to fist around his painfully hard cock.

A guttural groan of pure ecstasy gusted from Kuroo as he started shamelessly pumping himself with rough, frantic strokes. Visceral scenarios of bending your body over the dinner table and rucking up that little skirt you'd worn instantly unfurled behind his clenched eyelids. He could practically feel the tight, slick heat of your cunt gripping him to the hilt as he surged forward to stake his claim.

"Fuck...gonna feel so goddamn good wrapped around me," He hissed through gritted teeth, thrusts becoming more erratic as the sinful image of your head thrown back in rapture crystallized hotly. "Been driving me crazy...teasing little bitch...need to teach you a fucking lesson..."

Kuroo's free hand flew up to claw at the rigid plane of his abdomen, leaving behind bright ribbons of crimson as his pleasure barreled relentlessly onward. He imagined capturing those wicked lips between his teeth as punishment for every taunt and flagrant provocation you'd issued so seamlessly all evening. Driving himself to brutal, punishing depths over and over until you sobbed and keened and swore to stay good - at least for a little while.

Even picturing your pleas for mercy in that breathless, wrecked timbre you'd used earlier was enough to have Kuroo teetering wildly on the razor's edge. His balls drew up tighter as electric jolts of blinding bliss raced along his synapses with each twist of his calloused grip. Already he could taste the coppery tang of his own strained groans filling the bedroom, breath sawing harshly and release imminent—

A metallic jangle from the front entranceway had Kuroo's orgasm aborting before it could quite crest. His eyes flew open in the same instant he stilled, body strung taut as a bowstring as a cold tendril of realization slithered down his spine.

The midnight quiet echoed with hollow, careful pacing as if someone were sneaking tiptoeing movements. Then, the unmistakable vibration of the front door's locks being disengaged from the other side pulsed through the apartment in a searing staccato.

Kenma's parting warnings slammed back into Kuroo's lust-fogged brain with all the force of a sledgehammer: "Watch her closely. I wouldn't put it past her to slip out looking for trouble the second you blink..."

You. Sneaking out alone into the night to find some godforsaken revelry, no doubt. And despite his current state of painfully swollen and unsated dick, Kuroo felt the switch within him flip from hungered deviant back to protective guardian in a heartbeat.

With a growl of exertion half frenzied lust and half recalcitrant duty, he wrenched himself off the bed and stumbled to locate the first shred of clothing in reach as stealthy footsteps crept ever closer.

Kuroo's footsteps slowed to a prowling gait as he neared the living room, every muscle in his body tensing like a predator catching the scent of prey. There you stood at the front door, hand curved around the knob as if seconds from twisting it open and slipping outside.

But it was your appearance that stole Kuroo's breath and ignited molten need pulsing through his veins anew.

The scrap of crimson fabric you wore could barely even be considered a dress - more like a lingerie bodice sculpted to your lithe curves with indecent intimacy. It cupped the swell of your breasts, forcing them into a tantalizing plunge of cleavage before tapering off into a loose, flowing skirt portion that revealed teasing flashes of thigh and the lace garter adorning your upper leg each time you shifted.

Kuroo drank in the delectable tableau you presented with undisguised starvation, any lingering notion of rebuke or chastisement withering before the scorching promise of your provocatively clad form. You seemed to sense his hungry regard boring into you, shoulders going taut as you tilted your head slightly in acknowledgment.

"Going somewhere?" Kuroo finally grated out, throat parched and pulse jackrabbiting beneath his skin.

You didn't startle or try to fabricate some trite excuse. Instead, you pivoted to face him fully - the motion causing the wispy material to flutter around your body like scarlet flame, offering a split-second's teasing glimpse at the bare curve of your hip and abdomen beneath.

Kuroo barely suppressed a low, ravenous sound at the visceral temptation.

"Not going anywhere, Tetsu," you murmured in a voice like dark, velvety honey dripping straight into Kuroo's veins. "Just thought I'd slip into something more...comfortable while you were gone."

Your tongue darted out to trace a slow, meandering path over that full pout of your lower lip and Kuroo felt the final tethers of his restraint starting to splinter like overheated metal.

"Is that so?" He breathed out a fractured exhale, unconsciously prowling closer now despite his rapidly unraveling discipline. "And just who were you hoping might appreciate the view should they happen by?"

Rather than blanching or feigning innocence, your lips curved into a slow, eminently satisfied smirk that would have put the most depraved temptress to shame. With maddening deliberation, you allowed the bodice's sheer skirt portions to slip open even further - shamelessly revealing the absence of any panties and giving Kuroo an unobscured view of your bare pussy glistening with arousal beneath.

"Oh Tetsu, don't be coy," you crooned in a voice that liquified Kuroo's bones and made his shaft strain against its confines. "We both know precisely who this little show was meant for..." You punctuated the brazen insinuation by trailing one hand up the dip of your waist and over the slight swell of your hip before palming one of your tits shamelessly.

Something inside Kuroo seemed to splinter with a visceral, protracted ache at the image you painted. Some primal, proprietary need he could no longer wrestle down or contain reared up with a vengeance. In two strides, he crossed the remaining distance separating you, muscles tensed for violence.

Before you could so much as flinch, his fist lashed out, slamming into the door's frame beside your head hard enough to rattle its hinges. You went rigid, every shallow breath gusting between your parted lips in teasing wisps and ghosting over Kuroo's own straining chest.

"Don't you fucking dare," he snarled, bracing his other palm against the door to cage you in fully and blanketing your slighter frame in his looming heat. His voice dripped with seething menace, hazel eyes boring into yours with unflinching demand. "You want to play your wicked games, little girl? Then you can stay right here and sate them properly for once instead of traipsing around and dangling your charms for any passing degenerate to see..."

As his words hung in the electrically charged space between your bodies, Kuroo allowed the tip of his thumb to graze the over-sensitized swell of your lower lip with a maddening brush of friction, heart hammering an erratic staccato beneath his ribs.

"That's what you've been gagging for all night, isn't it? For me to finally break and give you exactly the kind of thorough, unrestrained claiming you've been begging for with those eyes?"

His hoarse murmur reverberated straight through you, hips canting subtly forward to grind the hard outline of his cock into your lower belly and banishing any distance between your bodies. You gasped softly at the delicious contact, pupils blowing wide with naked hunger.

Kuroo snaked his other hand with slow, almost torturous care around your back, fingertips skating over heated skin to palm your ass with unabashed greed. He squeezed firmly enough to lift you and force you up onto your tiptoes, your gazes locked in an endless battle of wills and unleashed, unstoppable need.

"Well?" His breath ghosted over your parted lips in counterpoint to his rumbling challenge and the rhythmic grind he established against your core. "If you've finally had enough of playing coy and pretending you don't want this as badly as I do, now's your last chance to walk away before I cave to the beast you keep trying to unleash..."

The molten whisper hung between you, thrumming with electric inevitability. Kuroo could feel the ragged flutter of your pulse against his palm cupping your feverish skin, the delicate shudder coursing through your frame as you swayed instinctively closer.

Your lips parted further as if to give voice to either undeniable surrender or a breathless plea for Kuroo to finally claim you with the ferocity you'd been stoking all night. He tensed in anticipation, every over-sensitized nerve ending screaming for your explicit permission to shed the last threads of restraint still holding him paralyzed on that razor-thin edge.

For a dizzying moment, he could almost taste the searing potential of finally unleashing himself, ravaging your pliant body as roughly and thoroughly as the beast prowling his veins demanded. Kuroo could picture hoisting you bodily into the searing cradle of his hips, pinning you helplessly against the door as he ground your molten centers together with punishing friction...

That's when Kenma's words sliced through the desire-soaked haze enveloping Kuroo's thoughts like a bucket of ice water:

"If I ever find out you so much as looked at my daughter the wrong way, I'll neuter you myself. And that's after my wife gets through kicking your ass first..."

The haunting vow rang with merciless clarity in Kuroo's mind - a bucket of sobering reality to counter the lush temptation of violating the most sacred of boundaries with the woman openly offering her wanton surrender mere breaths away. He froze utterly, gut clenching with a queasy lurch of shame. How could he even consider jeopardizing his friendship with Kenma over some fleeting, heated indiscretion?

You seemed to sense the shift in Kuroo's demeanor, that he'd regained some tenuous grasp on restraint despite the fever still thrumming between your bodies. A tiny, frustrated noise slipped free as your features contorted in a glare of disbelieving outrage.

"Don't you dare fucking pull away from me again, Tetsurou," you growled in a cadence dripping with such naked challenge and need that Kuroo nearly faltered anew. "I swear to god, if you think shutting me down now is going to make me stop craving your cock, you're delusional!"

Kuroo shuddered fully despite himself, arousal jackhammering nearly to the point of pain at the visceral promise of your guttural words. But he dug deep, clinging resolutely to the kernel of conscience beating like a metronome through his lust-fogged thoughts. He couldn't - wouldn't - be that level of betrayal to Kenma, no matter how sweetly the temptation painted itself.

With a fortifying inhale that felt like drawing in shards of glass, Kuroo untangled himself from your sinuous clutches, ignoring your outraged hiss of protest as he forcibly restrained the urge to lay claim so savagely.

"It's late," he managed in a tone gone desert-dry and rough enough to scour his raw throat. "And clearly my better judgment is waning enough for the night. We'll discuss this further after you've had a chance to...cool down."

You watched him with those mercurial eyes gone molten with frustrated fury, chest heaving with ragged pants that did nothing to detract from your brazen state of undress. For a prolonged heartbeat, Kuroo expected an explosive outburst or further attempts at seduction from you. But then, miraculously, some spark of compliance or defeated resignation seemed to bleed the raging inferno from your gaze.

With a toss of your head that made soft tresses spill artfully around your bare shoulders, you sneered. "Whatever. Don't come crying to me when the strain of denying yourself gets to be too much to handle alone at night anymore..."

Kuroo drew himself ramrod straight, pouring every ounce of willpower into keeping his gaze locked forward rather than allowing it to track the provocative bounce of your ass as you spun on your heel and stalked away down the hall. He waited until the muffled thud of your bedroom door slamming echoed like a death knell through the apartment before slumping back against the wall and dragging in a harsh, shuddering breath.

How the hell was he going to survive the remaining weeks of your tempestuous presence while keeping both your ravenous desire and his own treacherous impulses properly leashed?

The following morning found an undercurrent of smoldering resentment still permeating the air. You seemed determined to punish Kuroo for his rejection with frosty glares and curt one-word responses to any attempt at conversation or banter. Your simmering fury was nearly palpable enough to scorch any time he entered the vicinity - deliciously thrilling and unnerving in equal measure.

Finally, unable to endure the bristling awkwardness any longer, Kuroo cleared his throat over the remains of his breakfast. "Look, we both know moping around sulking isn't going to make this go away," he drawled, careful to keep any hint of condescension from creeping into his tone. "Maybe we need to get out and do something a little more fun together? Give you a chance to blow off some of that pent-up steam more...productively?"

Your gaze was skeptical as it flickered up to meet his, clearly wary of any potential olive branch representing ulterior motives or opportunities for seduction. But Kuroo held steady under your scrutiny, offering his most disarming grin.

"C'mon, we can make a little day trip out of it if you'd like? Grab some lunch, do a little shopping, maybe hit up a few sights if the weather cooperates..."

Resentment warred visibly with intrigued temptation across your features before the latter finally won out with a resigned huff. "Fine. Not like I have anything better to do until Dad gets back anyway." You paused, worrying your plump lower lip between your teeth in a way that made Kuroo have to swallow thickly. "Just promise to keep your hands to yourself and maybe I'll consider not holding last night's debacle entirely against you..."

A spark of challenge lit in Kuroo's chest even as he gave a genial shrug of acquiescence. "Whatever you say, princess. Although that begs the question of whether you'll be able to control your own wandering paws around little old me for once..."

You scoffed in a pantomime of offense even as the barest hints of a wry smirk curved your lips. "Oh, I think I've proven my restraint is far superior to your own when push comes to shove, Tetsurou."

The familiar note of salacious teasing had Kuroo's blood heating despite himself. But he held your gaze levelly, determined not to let you regain advantage - at least not so swiftly in the wake of his hard-fought self-denial.

"We'll just have to see about that, won't we?" He countered at last, allowing his eyes to rake over you with unguarded appreciation. "After all, there's only so long either of us can hold our breaths before one of us is bound to...come up gasping..."

The blatant undercurrent of wager and innuendo made your own stare spark in undisguised awareness, the air between you shivering in a deliciously renewed charge. Kuroo rose, movements lazy and confident as a predator scenting fresh prey.

"Better go get ready, sweetheart," he drawled as he moved towards the hallway, uncaring you tracked his every step like a starving woman admiring an exquisitely prepared feast. "It'll be my pleasure making things...interesting for us both today."

With one final, searing glance over his shoulder that promised indulgences still to come, Kuroo sauntered off to prepare himself for the delectable temptations and torments ahead. He only hoped the day's distractions would be enough to purchase him another reprieve from your mutually cataclysmic desires...at least for a few blissful hours more.

The tension that had lingered from the previous night's heated confrontation seemed to dissipate as you and Kuroo ventured out together into the crisp morning air. He tried to remain hyper-aware of the simmering undercurrents still crackling between you, but genuinely found himself getting swept up in simply enjoying your company as the day unfolded.

Over a laidback brunch at a cozy café, you fell back into your usual effortless rapport of teasing banter and roguish quips. Kuroo realized with a strange sort of fondness how easy it was to forget the obscenely tempting woman you'd matured into when you were grinning up at him with syrup smeared at the corner of your mouth, looking for all the world like the same mischievous brat he'd watched grow up.

Still, there were moments that would jar him back into visceral awareness of the barely-restrained desire pulsing between you both – like when you stretched lazily and your shirt rode up to expose a tantalizing strip of toned midriff, or when you casually licked a glob of whipped cream from your fingertip with slow, indolent focus. In those heated instances, Kuroo had to actively tear his stare away from drinking in the lurid tableaus you unconsciously presented.

After brunch, you wandered through a nearby outdoor market – pointing out quirky items that caught your fancy and sharing stories of your latest college misadventures as Kuroo listened with poorly restrained fondness. He couldn't resist the occasional playful nudge or tug on your hair, relishing in your indignant squeals.

Small, innocuous gestures that nevertheless filled Kuroo with a strange sense of nostalgia for cherished days long since passed when your relationship held no murkier underpinnings. Back when things had been simpler...easier.

But then your hand would brush his with purported innocence, or you'd lean in fractionally too close as you tugged the sleeve of his shirt to get his attention, and the nostalgia would instantly combust into that now-familiar scorching heat low in his core.

By the time evening rolled around, that same tantalizing friction was back in full force – only heightened by the casual intimacy you'd both lapsed into over the course of the day. Almost as if all the emotional groundwork of boundaries and uncertainty had already been blazed through, leaving only the heady longing and pent-up tension still smoldering beneath polite veneers. ik

Kuroo felt like he was walking on a tightrope, trying to balance enjoying your company without giving in to the overwhelming desire simmering between you two. As you strolled together down the lively shopping promenade, he was hyperaware of every accidental brush of your arm, every sly glance you shot his way. The sexual tension hung thick in the air, stoking the fire raging within him.

You reminded him of his promise to take you shopping, that coy smile playing on your lips. Kuroo wanted to refuse, to steer you both back to safer territory. But the gleam in your eyes made his resolve falter. He knew you wouldn't let this go, not when you could sense his weakening restraint.

"Sure, one store," he agreed reluctantly. "But we're keeping things PG, got it? No funny business."

Your grin only widened at his futile attempt to set boundaries. "I'll be on my very best behavior," you promised, though the suggestive lilt in your tone said otherwise.

True to form, the moment you stepped into the trendy clothing boutique, you barreled straight towards temptation. Kuroo watched, jaw clenched, as you selected increasingly revealing outfits to try on – tight dresses that clung to your curves, low-cut tops that exposed a tantalizing swell of cleavage. Each time you emerged from the dressing room in a new ensemble, his eyes were helplessly drawn to your body like a magnet, drinking in every inch of skin on display.

You preened under his heated stare, arching your back or bending over just a bit more than necessary as you posed and asked his opinion. Kuroo tried to keep his responses clipped and neutral, but his voice emerged as a strained rasp each time.

Finally, you slipped behind the door again, and Kuroo forced himself to turn away before you reemerged in something even more sinful. He paced the small waiting area, hands fisted at his sides as he wrestled with the escalating ache between his legs. Get it together, Tetsurou, he scolded himself. You can't let her temptations break you.

The soft creak of the changing room door made his head snap up, breath catching at the sight of you. This time, the delicate black dress you wore could barely be called clothing – the flimsy material was practically see-through, clinging to your body like a second skin and leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. As you sauntered closer, each swaying step made the dress ride up tantalizing higher on your thighs.

"Well?" You locked eyes with him, open challenge burning in your gaze. "What do you think about this one, Tetsu? Think it would look better..." You trailed off, slowly dragging your hands up your sides to emphasize your breasts straining against the sheer fabric. "On the bedroom floor?"

Kuroo's throat went dry as you closed the distance between you, plush lips parting invitingly as you pressed yourself flush against his body. He could feel the pebbled peaks of your nipples grazing his chest, smell the intoxicating floral scent of your skin and hair. The blood was pounding so fiercely in his ears, he barely registered your next words.

"Come on, old man," you purred, tilting your hips in a slow grind against his growing hardness. "You can finally give in, just this once. No one has to know how badly you want me..."

With a guttural groan torn from his very core, Kuroo captured your lips in a searing, desperate kiss. All of his flimsy resistance and halfhearted objections crumbled entirely as he pulled you harder against him, one hand burying itself in your hair while the other shamelessly groped your ass.

You eagerly reciprocated his hunger, mouth opening to allow his probing tongue to delve deeper as your nails raked over his shoulders. The kiss was all heat and wet friction and the slick tangling of tongues, devolving rapidly into messy desperation.

When you finally broke apart, lips swollen and breath sawing harshly, Kuroo's gaze was molten with naked need. "Fuck it," he rasped out, guiding you backwards toward the dressing room. "You want this so bad, princess? You got it..."

With a low growl, he yanked the flimsy dress clear over your head, leaving you beautifully bare before his ravenous stare. As he crowded you against the wall, hands greedily roaming your body, all thoughts of resistance fled entirely. You'd baited him expertly, and now there was nothing left but surrender to the raging inferno of lust you'd both fanned for far too long.

Kuroo pinned you against the dressing room wall, the flimsy door shuddering on its hinges as he ground his clothed cock against your naked heat. Your head lolled back, mouth falling open in a silent moan as his lips and teeth blazed a scorching path down the column of your throat.

One of his powerful thighs shoved between your legs, forcing them obscenely apart to make room for the delicious friction he established. You clung to his broad shoulders, nails raking over taut muscle and bunched fabric as you rocked wantonly into the exquisite pressure.

"Yes...oh fuck, Tetsu, please..." The entreaty slipped free in a shredded whimper as molten licks of rapture sparked outwards from your rapidly liquifying core with each punishing grind of Kuroo's hips.

He swallowed your cries with another deep, bruising kiss - all teeth and slick tangling of tongues as he laid utterly merciless claim. One large palm clamped over the generous curve of your breast, kneading and tweaking the peaked nipple with expert command until you arched into his brand with a ragged plea.

Just as the two of you threatened to shred through the last vestige of control, a shrill ringing cut through the haze of panting breaths and slick glides of skin. You startled against Kuroo's unrelenting attention, scrambling to locate the source of the interruption.

"Fuck, ignore it baby," Kuroo growled against the swollen swell of your lips as he tried to recapture your mouth. But you placed a palm to his heaving chest, stilling his insistent motions just long enough to locate your buzzing phone abandoned beside the discard pile of outfits you'd tried on.

The name "DADDY" glared up from the screen, undeniable and utterly disruptive in its timing. You froze, equal parts mortification and a sudden rush of clarity dousing the raging inferno like a bucket of ice water.

Kuroo seemed to experience a similar sobering, judging by the way he abruptly wrenched himself from your tangled clutches with a guttural curse. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eye sockets, harsh breaths sawing raggedly through the quiet changing alcove.

"Answer it," he bit out in a grating tone when you continued staring numbly at the vibrating device. "It's probably Kenma checking in finally..."

Obediently, you connected the call, fingers trembling as you lifted the phone to your ear while Kuroo dragged himself back from the precipice of utterly losing control.

"H-hey Daddy..." you stammered out, unable to fully erase the undercurrent of breathy desire still permeating your voice. "Did you make it to the hotel okay?"

You kept your eyes trained resolutely on the wall opposite as Kuroo raked his tortured stare over your flushed, gloriously debauched state. His jaw ticked visibly with the strain of warring compulsions before he seemed to reach some grim inner resolve.

Without ceremony, he snatched up the discarded pile of clothing and strode for the exit, steps tight and precise as he headed for the register. You watched his exit helplessly with one hand clapped over the mic, entirely uncertain how to process the harrowing swing between total debauchery and cold sobriety.

Finally, you shook yourself from your daze. "Yeah, I'm just...just out getting a few things with...with Tetsu," you mumbled hoarsely into the receiver, unable to mask the warring torrent of disappointment and relief thrashing beneath your skin. "No, no everything is totally fine and...and normal here..."

You trailed off staring blankly at the dressing room's mirrored wall – the debauchery reflected back at you a bitter mockery of your platitudes. Hickeys darkened over the swell of your breasts, hair a riot of tangles from Kuroo's merciless grip, the proof of your arousal stark and glistening between your thighs and smeared incriminatingly over your inner thighs.

Far from fine or normal.

With a trembling sigh and a desperate prayer Kuroo would maintain his reforged nobility for just a while longer, you slunk into the bathroom to quickly restore some semblance of dignity and untangled poise before braving whatever storm awaited on the other side.

The drive back to Kuroo's apartment was cloaked in a heavy silence, the air thick with unresolved tension. You kept stealing sidelong glances at him, eyes tracing the taut set of his jaw and the way the tendons in his neck corded with strain. His knuckles were practically white from gripping the steering wheel, biceps flexing beneath the material of his shirt. You found your gaze lingering on those sculpted forearms, remembering the scorching imprints his large palms had branded into your bare skin not long ago.

A heated flush crept up your chest as you recalled the urgency of his touch, the blazing intensity in his smoldering stare as he'd pinned you against that dressing room wall. Just thinking about how utterly you had unraveled him, how close you'd both teetered to the edge of no return, made a spiral of arousal rekindle low in your belly.

Finally, you couldn't take the charged quiet any longer. As if giving voice to the roiling torrent might somehow lance the turbulent undercurrents between you. "Are we going to talk about what happened back there?" you ventured, keeping your tone carefully neutral despite the way your pulse thrummed with reawakened yearning.

Kuroo's Adam's apple bobbed convulsively as he swallowed hard, sharpened jawline tensing further. "What's there to talk about?" His gravelly response held an undercurrent of forced nonchalance that did nothing to mask the storm clearly raging behind his eyes. "Just a lapse in judgment that won't be happening again."

The curt dismissal ignited a fresh flare of indignant frustration deep in your core. As if he could so easily disregard the raging inferno he'd stoked and indulge in willful blindness. You bristled, the flames of desire now sparking into defiance as you bristled. "So that's it? You're just going to pretend like you didn't want me just as badly?"

Shifting in your seat, you arched your back slightly to thrust your breasts forward and let your hand trail up the inseam of your skirt in a slow, sinuous caress. You parted your thighs a few tantalizing inches, holding Kuroo's burning stare in silent challenge. The rapid dilation of his pupils and the way his throat worked around a convulsive swallow did not escape your notice.

"I felt how hard you were, Tetsu," you murmured in a voice gone low and syrupy with provocation. You bit your lower lip slowly, letting it plump up and glisten with the brief sweep of your tongue. "How turned on you were, having me pressed up against you. Don't tell me you’re just gonna ignore that."

A muscle ticked in his chiseled jaw, the corded sinews of his neck snapping taut. But Kuroo kept his glass-cutting stare locked resolutely on the empty road ahead, seemingly laboring to maintain his rapidly crumbling veneer of forced restraint. His chest rose and fell in harsh drafts, utterly at odds with his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel.

With a sharp swerve that jostled you both, Kuroo abruptly pulled over on a quiet side street. For a split second, you expected – hoped – that he would finally surrender. That the smoldering heat in his hooded stare would arc forward and consume you both in the searing release of passion too long stoked and denied. You even leaned subtly into his space, lips parting in breathless expectation.

But instead of seizing you in the punishing kiss you craved, Kuroo squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose in a gesture of clear self-restraint. The sharp ridges and hollows of his profile were limned in stark relief by the ambient glow of the streetlamp, casting his features in an almost pained mask of stoicism.

"You don't understand, [Y/N]," he grated out in that deliciously rough timbre that made your pussy flutter traitorously. "It's not just about age or consent. You're Kenma's daughter, for fuck's sake."

The reminder lanced through the gauzy cocoon of longing clouding your thoughts – a sudden dousing that left you recoiling slightly. But even the fleeting pang of guilt was not enough to extinguish the ember of desire still burning molten and insistent in your core. You worried your plump lower lip with your teeth again, noting the way Kuroo's gaze tracked the unconscious gesture with naked yearning.

"So what? The two of you aren’t related by blood."

Even to your own ears, the attempted rationalization rang thin and hollow – a transparent grasp at justification for indulging in this increasingly inescapable compulsion arcing between your charged forms.

Kuroo's jaw clenched hard enough to throw his chiseled features into harsh relief, full lips peeling back from gritted teeth in a rictus of frustration. "That doesn't matter!" he exploded, the blaze finally detonating behind those piercing emerald eyes. "Kenma is my oldest friend, my brother in every way that counts. And betraying his trust like this by lusting after his little girl?"

His words emerged guttural and fraught, the muscle jumping sporadically along his tensed jawline as his chest heaved with the force of containing the twin maelstroms of lust and self-loathing clearly at war within his formidable frame.

"It's unforgivable..." he finished in a voice gone hoarse with effort that seemed to resonate through you in a full-body tremor of apprehension and answering hunger.

The car idled around you, the low thrum of its engine seeming to give voice to the pulse of hunger you refused to quiet so easily. You absorbed Kuroo's weighted condemnation and rationality through the molasses-thick silence, tasting the bitter truths on your tongue...and dismissing them with a willful defiance that roiled and snapped through your veins like liquid fire.

"What if," you hedged at last, carefully modulating your tone to a lower, syrupy warmth. "What if he didn't have to know? Just this once to get it out of our systems."

The insinuation hung wreathed in ephemeral promise – one you punctuated by allowing your hand to slowly creep higher along Kuroo's taut thigh until your questing fingertips brushed against the outline of his cock swiftly taking shape beneath the coarse denim. You relished the punched-out groan that gusted free of him despite his visible efforts to contain it, his powerful thighs parting incrementally in a reflexive, unbidden welcome to your temptation.

"[Y/N], baby...don't..." Kuroo's graveled entreaty was unmistakable even as his willpower hemorrhaged. You refused to grant him quarter or pause now, shuffling gracelessly across the console until your lips ghosted searing friction against the sandpaper rasp of his own in a tantalizing brush of silk over steel.

"Don't act like you don't crave this just as much as I do," you breathed against his parted mouth, your damp exhalation seeming to scorch its heated path along every molecule. "I can feel how much you want me..."

A visible tremor wracked Kuroo's powerful frame then, his control stretched gossamer-thin and shredding. With a ragged curse torn from somewhere deep in his chest, he crushed his mouth down over yours in a searing, desperate kiss that threatened to steal the very air from your lungs. His large palms slid over every lush curve and swell in a heated brand of possession – bunching the fabric of your skirt up over your hips without preamble as he hauled you bodily into the cradle of his lap.

The action pinned you flush to the hard-on you'd been so purposefully teasing, eliciting a shamelessly wanton moan that Kuroo swallowed greedily. A dizzying spiral of tongues and teeth and lush, bruising friction commenced between you – frantic and ferocious and lit by the feverish promise of total surrender. Kuroo's every ragged exhalation scorched over your flushed skin with the guttural relish of starvation, his powerful body undulating beneath you in open invitation.

It was finally happening – the dam breaking to unleash the turbulent waters you'd strained against for far too long...

Then, with an animalistic growl torn from the depths of his core, Kuroo abruptly tore his mouth from yours. You both panted harshly in the aftermath, chests heaving and bodies glistening with the visceral efforts of that brief conflagration. Kuroo's eyes bored into you from beneath hooded lids, burning with an intensity that nearly made you moan at the visceral, proprietary promise you found there.

"We can't..." he rasped out, even as his hands roved hungrily over every exquisite swell and hollow of your wanton curves. He kneaded the lush flesh of your ass shamelessly, grinding your molten pussy against his aching cock. "Fuck, you have no idea how badly I want to just fuck you right here..."

You arched against him with a keening sound of entreaty, nipping sharply at the corded tendon straining along the column of his throat with your kiss-swollen lips. "Then why are you fighting it? I'm right here, Tetsu...all yours for the taking if you just give in..."

A shudder wracked Kuroo's broad shoulders and he momentarily buried his face in the fragrant hollow beneath your ear, seeming to inhale the humid fusion of your desire and dizzying feminine musk. You felt the rasp of his tongue caressing the feverish jump of your pulse point before he leaned back, jaw visibly ticking with the strain of containing the beast howling for release within.

"Kenma..." he ground out through gritted teeth, chest sawing with exertion as he visibly warred to regain the tattered shreds of his composure. "I can't do that to Kenma...fuck, I can't betray him like this no matter how tempting you make it!"

You issued a wordless growl of sheer frustration and smashed your mouth back against Kuroo's in a punishing kiss of pure, wanton possession. Your hips surged erratically against his, grinding and circling in search of any exquisite friction to soothe the mounting ache. His hands – those peerless instruments of dominance and barely-restrained power – squeezed your hips with bruising force, meeting your agonized roll for ravenous roll as you both teetered ever nearer to the abyss.

"Don't think about him or anyone else," you rasped out between the wickedly slick tangling of tongues and fevered sips of lush, parted flesh. "Just think about me and what you're going to do to me once we get back..."

A full-body shudder wracked Kuroo's powerful, delineated musculature then, making you momentarily dizzy as your senses swirled with the intoxicating scents of your feverish exertions and his spiced, earthy virility. For a suspended, panting heartbeat, you thought he might actually give in right there and now – shed his shredded composure and take you right atop the creaking console in an animalistic frenzy of unleashed hungers.

But then Kuroo's expression slid into grim determination, emerald eyes glinting with a resolve too steely to ignore. "Get off me, princess," he grated out in a voice thick and molten from your arduous joining. With gentle yet unmistakable force, he untangled your limbs from around him, depositing you into the passenger seat with surprisingly finessed care.

You opened your mouth to protest or cajole further, but Kuroo fixed you with a look that brooked no additional discussion. Shaken by the authority blazing from his banked stare, you simply slumped back in sullen, heated frustration as he started the car and pulled back onto the empty road with sharp, jerky motions.

The drive passed in a thick, tension-laden silence once more – your own frustration and simmering yearning mounting with every block traversed and minute ticking past. From the passenger seat, your gaze traced over Kuroo's stern profile and lingered on the prominent set of his kiss-swollen lips before flickering towards the backseat...

Where easily a dozen glossy shopping bags lay scattered and overflowing with the entire selection of risque garments you'd sampled earlier during your flagrant attempts at seduction. The sheer volume of them, crammed haphazardly across the plush leather, suggested Kuroo had spared no expense in purchasing every single indecent offering you'd modeled so shamelessly for him across the evening.

You absorbed this visceral evidence of just how deeply your provocations had affected him – no matter how firmly he tried distancing himself from the primal, lust-choked demands you'd elicited. The sight of all those dresses and scandalously revealing tops, the ghost of their heated exchange permeated the fine material in a way you doubted would ever be expunged now.

Silently, you turned your gaze back out the window, chest constricting with equal parts yearning and a newfound flush of humbled apprehension. If even an evening as blatantly purposed to incite Kuroo's basest longings had pushed you both to such explosive limits, how on earth would either of you survive the smoldering compulsions newly awakened between you going forward?

Man and woman – both undeniably enraptured, yet torn between morality and forbidden lust...what choice did either of you truly have but to succumb entirely to the raging inferno now threatening to consume you both utterly?

The remainder of the evening passed in a blur of simmering tension and loaded silence. As soon as you entered Kuroo's apartment, you stormed down the hall without a backwards glance – the sharp staccato of your footsteps and the punctuating slam of the guest bedroom door ricocheting through the quiet like auditory shockwaves.

Kuroo stood frozen in the living area, shoulders rising and falling with deep, calming breaths as he struggled to regain equilibrium. Every inch of his body still thrummed with unspent arousal and the ghost of your lush, wanton curves pressed so urgently against his own aching hardness. The dusky floral scent of your desire seemed to permeate the very air, making his head swim dizzily.

He sank onto the sofa, scrubbing his palms over his face as warring tides of lust and self-loathing churned within. How close had he teetered to that razor's edge of indulging his most depraved impulses? Minutes from dragging your willing body back against his and consummating the forbidden, treacherous cravings coiled like a serpent around his resolve?

The thought sickened him as much as it made his cock throb insistently. With a muffled groan, Kuroo shoved himself upright to stumble towards the safe refuge of his room. Perhaps distance and unconsciousness would dull the overwhelming tempest now lashing against his shores.

He intended to seek you out later, when coherent sentences and rational discussions became possible again. An effort to assuage your understandable ire and work towards diffusing this entire disaster before it fractured something irreparable between you.

But for now, Kuroo needed to retreat and regroup – escape the torturous haunting of your essence clinging to every space if he had any hope of eventually confronting the minefield you had both set dancing across.

Sleep, however, proved equally elusive in light of his spiraling thoughts. Each time Kuroo closed his eyes, visceral flashes assaulted him – the slick swell of your parted lips, the blissed out arch of your spine as you ground down against his aching cock, the primal mewls of desire spilling wantonly past the swollen pout needing nothing more than his tongue to swallow them once more.

At some point in the restless fever dream, he found himself wandering down the dimly lit hallway, a silent wraith pulled towards the forbidden as surely as helpless debris caught in a riptide. He paused outside the guest suite, gaze riveted to the sliver of spilled illumination glowing from beneath. He could picture you stretched out on those rumpled sheets so achingly vivid it made his fingers ache with the urge to trail worshipful paths over every exposed expanse...

A ragged exhalation gusted from Kuroo's parched lips. He sagged back against the opposite wall, fighting off the insidious temptation to breach that final barrier. Clearly your alluring presence had completely unraveled his normally steadfast self-control and rationale. For both your sakes, he would have to keep a healthy gulf between you...at least for now.

With monumental effort, Kuroo retreated back to his room and the refuge of cool, clean sheets blessedly void of the temptress' haunting essence. He lasted a grand total of an hour sprawled out in solitary torment before surrendering what little composure remained and indulging himself in a rough, curse-laden fantasy that would have made even your wanton desires seem quaint by comparison.

By the time the first pale ribbons of dawn streaked across the horizon, a raw-throated and shuddering Kuroo finally succumbed to fitful slumber with the sticky residue of his cum cooling in streaks across his tensed abdomen. And through the shredding vestiges of restless unconsciousness, he swore he could taste the phantom heat of your tongue laving scorching paths along the insides of his thighs in leisurely benediction...

Sunlight filtering through the bedroom's gauzy curtains roused Kuroo from his lurid fever-dreams at last. With monumental effort, he tugged leaden eyelids open to blearily assess his surroundings – half expecting to find you a tousled, inviting vision spread out beside him after the feverish imaginings plaguing his slumber.

But the rumpled sheets beside him remained untouched, unsullied of any presence save his own. A sudden, petulant hollowness seemed to yawn through Kuroo's core at the realization, far more visceral than he cared to analyze.

Huffing out a frustrated exhalation, he finally levered himself upright and scrubbed his hands through the sweaty disarray of his bedhead. The motions caused his shoulders to crack in relief, reminding him of just how restlessly he must have tossed and turned throughout the night. Each minute of failed slumber scored into his senses by the molten brands of fantasies too lurid for conscious recollection.

With jerky, still sleep-clumsy movements, Kuroo tugged on a pair of sweatpants before making his way towards the kitchen and the steadying ritual of brewing a strong pot of coffee. He needed fuel and sustenance if he harbored any hope of somehow diffusing the powder keg now smoldering so perilously on his doorstep.

Kuroo fully intended to seek you out, clear the air, and work towards patching the cracks already webbing between you with remorseless speed. Before more irrevocable sins and unspeakable hungers could leach through and fracture everything apart.

But the moment Kuroo shuffled into the front living area and spotted your silhouette perched on the sofa, all intentions scattered like ashes in a downdraught. You sat utterly motionless, hands folded demurely between your knees and shoulders hunched beneath a thick sweater that seemed to swallow your slender frame.

For several weighted heartbeats, Kuroo simply stared – part of him frantically scrambling to piece together what apologies or arguments or tempering explanations might be fitting for the storm no doubt still churning your stare.

But when you lifted your chin and met his gaze full-on, he knew in an instant that the tumultuous anger and hurt smoldering behind your depths had dimmed to low embers overnight. All of the thorns and hissing defensiveness he'd steeled himself for seemed...muted, dampened to a bemused sort of weariness.

"Morning," you murmured, offering an uncertain smile that halted Kuroo in his tracks. "There's coffee made already if you want some."

And just like that, it was as if some unspoken truce had been negotiated over the empty hours of sleeplessness plaguing you both. No blazing recriminations or bitter wrath, simply a thin veneer of civility draped between your respective wounds like gauze still awaiting a more permanent salve.

Part of Kuroo wanted to tear through the falsely calming atmosphere with demands and impassioned pleas to finally hash out the forbidden hungers simmering between you openly and without restraint. A larger, more guarded piece of him reveled in the reprieve – no matter how brittle its origins or longevity.

For now, there would be no knock-down-drag-out confrontations about culpabilities or unspeakable transgressions. Just the steady, comforting motions of two friends clinging to the shreds of propriety still distinguishable through the smoky haze of sin.

"Thanks," Kuroo rasped out at last, gesturing vaguely towards the hallway. "I should hit the shower, but I'll grab a mug after."

You merely nodded without lifting your chin, as if any sudden movements or excess attentions might shatter the delicately-reforged peace between you. Kuroo allowed the hazy beat of silence to stretch and congeal around him for a few more endless seconds before retreating with a self-conscious clearing of his throat.

Hot water scouring his fatigued muscles did nothing to cleanse the heavier burdens now bearing down upon him. Each droplet scissoring down his well-muscled frame seemed to whisper your name in a haunting sussurus laced with equal parts damnation and devotion. Over and over until his skull echoed with the weight of it all, the agonizing decisions and tempests of lust still holding court behind his eyes as he fought for purchase on elusive clarity.

By the time Kuroo finally emerged, towel slung low around his hips and bare feet damp against the living room floor, he found you exactly where you'd been. Your eyes flickered over the exposed expanse of defined musculature, trailing down the dewy hollow of his throat to the thick, coarse hair trailing down his navel before hastening away.

A flush stained your cheeks despite your otherwise placid expression and Kuroo felt the bottom drop out of his stomach in sympathy. It would seem neither of you was quite immune to the molten brands of temptation searing between your shared spaces after all.

Some desperate instinct prodded him to break the ice, to raise a jest or levity to at least mask the simmering current tugging them both down into murky depths once more...until he saw the two mugs already awaiting on the coffee table.

And beside them the cheerfully plain cardboard box containing the six-pack of fancy cookies he favored but rarely indulged. His stomach clenched, suddenly painfully unsure whether the gesture stemmed from simple thoughtfulness and consideration...or carried infinitely murkier underpinnings of appeasement or delayed capitulation.

"[Y/N]..." Kuroo murmured, the name dripping from his tongue like fragrant benediction and damnation all at once. "What...?"

But your only response was to lift one shoulder in a tiny shrug before inclining your head towards the prepared dishes silently. The weight behind your compliant silence made Kuroo's gut churn for reasons he could barely fathom.

He crossed the space more out of instinctive compulsion than true desire, sinking onto the couch cushions careful inches away from where you huddled beneath the oversized sweater. For one teetering heartbeat, he was frozen - every fiber of his being screaming at him to reach out and map the enigmatic hollows and slopes of your features with desperate reverence. To try and see past whatever crossroads you had navigated in the cold depths of morning while he wallowed in his own disgraced indecision.

But in the end, he simply reached for the prepared mug of steaming brew, cradling the heat and steadying ceramic between his palms as a penitent before an altar he longed to glimpse...yet dared not risk profaning further with any more selfish, craven demands.

The silence stretched between them, thick and weighted as Kuroo sipped his coffee. He stole furtive glances at you over the rim of the mug, brow furrowed slightly as he tried to decipher the strange shift in your demeanor. Gone was the defiant fire that had blazed so brightly the previous day, the blatant challenge and provocation that had nearly unraveled him completely.

Instead, you seemed...subdued, almost chastened. Your eyes remained downcast, fingers worrying at a loose thread on the sweater you were huddled in. Kuroo recognized it as one of his own - the sight of you engulfed in the worn fabric sparked an unexpected flicker of tenderness amidst the swirling uncertainty.

Just as he opened his mouth, prepared to finally broach the smoldering tension crackling between them, you spoke up in a soft murmur.

"I'm sorry about yesterday." Your gaze flickered up to meet his, equal parts contrition and a guarded wariness he couldn't quite decipher. "I acted like a brat, and I crossed so many lines I shouldn't have."

Kuroo's brows hiked up, the apology catching him completely off guard. A thousand potential responses flickered through his mind, but he remained silent, letting you continue uninterrupted.

"You were right to shut me down," you pressed on, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. "What I was trying to push you into...it would have been a huge mistake. A betrayal of my dad's trust in the worst way."

He watched, utterly transfixed, as you visibly gathered your composure with a deep, steadying breath. When you met his gaze again, there was a newfound determination glinting in your eyes that made his chest constrict painfully.

"I need to be better than that," you stated, more to yourself than him. "I can't keep letting my...impulses and selfishness rule me, not when it risks hurting the people I care about most." A wry, self-deprecating smile curved your lips. "Especially over something as stupid as a cheap thrill that would have ruined everything in the end."

Kuroo's mouth had gone dry, his coffee suddenly tasting ashen on his tongue. This measured, earnest side of you was so at odds with the wanton temptress who had pushed him to the boundaries of control mere hours ago. He couldn't decide if he was relieved at your apparent change of heart, or if a deeper part of him mourned the loss of that smoldering, unchecked passion.

"From now on, I'm going to be focusing on my studies," you continued, voice strengthening with conviction. "No more distractions, no more chasing selfish whims that could jeopardize my future and hurt the people I love."

Despite himself, Kuroo couldn't contain the incredulous huff of laughter that slipped past his lips. You cut him a mildly reproachful look, but he simply shook his head and lifted one shoulder in an unapologetic shrug.

"Sorry, I just..." He searched for the right words, sarcasm warring with sincere consideration. "After everything that happened yesterday, you'll forgive me for being a little skeptical about your sudden resolve to become a model student again."

To his surprise, you didn't bristle or retort defensively. Instead, you simply held his gaze steadily, mouth set in a solemn line.

"I mean it, Tetsurou," you stated, each word laced with sober emphasis. "Things went way too far yesterday, and we both know it. I refuse to let my lack of self-control ruin things any further between us or with my dad."

He searched your expression, looking for any hints of deception or lingering temptation simmering beneath the surface. But all he found was earnest determination and...an undercurrent of what could only be described as regret. Regret for the lines you had crossed, for the dangerous territory you had led him towards so brazenly.

Kuroo felt something within him loosen at your sincerity, the constant knot of wariness and residual arousal slowly unspooling. Perhaps you had both needed this reckoning, this moment of clarity amidst the maelstrom of lust and indecision.

With a slow nod, he set his half-finished coffee aside and leaned back against the sofa cushions. "Alright, if that's really what you want..." He let the implication hang in the air - giving you one final chance to contradict or deflect.

But you simply met his gaze evenly and offered a small, resolute smile. "It is. I promise."

He found himself returning the smile, some of the heaviness that had weighed on him since yesterday finally dissipating. "Then I'm with you. Whatever you need to get through this..." He waved a hand vaguely. "...whatever this chapter is, I've got your back."

A shimmer of gratitude flickered across your features, and you nodded silently. The air between you seemed to clear, the tension bleeding away to be replaced by a newfound sense of solidarity and understanding.

As you rose to retreat back to your room, likely to tackle some studying, Kuroo couldn't help but marvel at the shift. Just yesterday, the mere sight of you had set his blood boiling and restraint hanging by a gossamer thread. Now, you were calm waters, your determination sending ripples of pride through him rather than turbulent desire.

Part of him wanted to bask in this newfound sense of solidarity, to trust in the sincerity he had glimpsed burning in your eyes. You seemed so resolute, so committed to reining in the chaotic impulses that had nearly led you both down an irreversibly dark path. For a fleeting moment, Kuroo allowed himself to truly hope that the worst had passed - that you had both exorcised the ravenous temptations and granted each other the space needed to heal.

But another, more cynical part of him couldn't shake a lingering wariness - a nagging suspicion that this abrupt shift in comportment was simply a new gambit in whatever twisted game of seduction still simmered beneath the surface. He knew you too well, had witnessed firsthand just how adept you were at manipulation and preying on his weaknesses when the mood struck.

Was this whole 'good girl' act merely a calculated move to lull him back into a false sense of security? To bait him into dropping his guard entirely before the next onslaught of provocation? Kuroo clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to rake his palm through his disheveled bedhead. He couldn't afford blind trust anymore, not until his senses managed to fully disentangle themselves from the drugging aura of your temptation.

The rest of the day passed in that same strange, uneasy truce. You remained tucked away in the guest room, a silent sentinel devoted to your apparent studies. Kuroo tried to busy himself with mundane chores and mindless distractions, desperate to avoid falling back into the same spiral of fevered ruminations that had plagued him the previous evening.

When at last the knock at his door dragged him back to the present, the dimly lit hallway revealed your silhouette hovering uncertainly just past the threshold to his bedroom suite. A woven blanket was wrapped securely around your lithe form, soft locks tousled by evident restlessness.

"Hey," you greeted in a low, rough murmur that somehow still managed to caress over his nerves with unbearable gentleness. "I didn't mean to disturb you, I just..."

You trailed off, gaze flickering away as one slender hand worried at the blanket's edge. Kuroo inhaled a steadying breath, forcing himself to remain impassive rather than closing the distance to offer...well, whatever fragile intimacy his body instinctively longed to provide.

"Everything okay?" He prompted when you remained locked in uncertain silence.

Finally, you nodded and met his probing stare fully once more. "Yeah, it's just...I don't know, never mind. Sorry, I shouldn't have disturbed your evening."

As you turned to retreat back down the hallway, something deep inside Kuroo clenched at the thought of you withdrawing further into solitude and shadow. Before his rational mind could override the impulse, he found himself calling out to your departing figure.

"Wait!" It emerged more gruffly than intended, making you freeze in your tracks and glance back over one shoulder. Kuroo groped for an appropriate excuse, something benign enough not to raise defenses all while affording your company a while longer.

"Ah, I was actually planning to head into the office for a bit later," he fibbed. "Get a head start on some paperwork since I'll be out for the next couple weeks." Kenma's extended business trip suddenly provided convenient cover for maintaining a credible pretense.

"If you wanted," he pressed on, feigning nonchalance. "You could come along? Maybe grab a bite or something afterwards? No pressure or anything, just a chance to get out of the apartment for a bit."

Silence stretched between you as you seemed to mull over his proposal. Kuroo waited with studied patience, refusing to allow his desperation to bleed through the carefully measured tone of his offer. If you sensed how imperative it suddenly felt to draw you back out of your isolated solitude, there was no telling what fresh deceptions or exploitations might be unleashed...

"That's very kind of you," you said at last, rewarding Kuroo's lungs with oxygen once more. "But I think I'll pass tonight. I'm actually making really good headway on this literature review for my Criminal Justice class."

The unexpected excuse shouldn't have landed with such a hollow pang in Kuroo's core. He forced a tight smile and a nod as if your wholesome refusal was precisely what he had expected all along.

"Well hey, can't argue with putting education first. That's my girl." The endearment slipped past his lips before he could rein it back, making something almost pained flicker across your features.

"Thanks for understanding," you murmured, hugging the blanket tighter around yourself as you began retreating once more. "Really, Tetsu, this is exactly what I need right now, so just...don't worry about me for a little while, okay?"

The words sliced through Kuroo like a physical blow, leaving him unmoored and reeling in their wake. Before rational thought could intervene, his body propelled itself forward of its own volition - powerful strides devouring the distance until you were engulfed in the circle of his arms.

You went rigid at the sudden embrace, shoulder blades tensing beneath Kuroo's palms as he crushed you against the solid plane of his chest. For a breathless heartbeat, you remained frozen - two tautly strung bowstrings lashed together and thrumming with twinned uncertainty.

Then you seemed to melt fractionally, slender form softening into the cradle of Kuroo's insistent hold as you allowed your cheek to pillowed against the reassuring thrum of his heartbeat.

Kuroo drank in every visceral detail greedily - the fragrant whisper of your shampoo, the pliant silk of your hair brushing his jawline, the delicate points of your body pressing into his with undeniable substance and fever.

Without conscious thought, he angled his face downward, allowing the rough rasp of his stubble to score delicate friction against the downy slope of your temple. He inhaled deeply, pulling your combined scents into his lungs like a man starving for sustenance.

Your breaths hitched in response, mingling with his own in tremulous susurrances that sounded dangerously akin to shared whimpers of need. Before Kuroo's tenuous grasp on control could splinter entirely, he tilted your face up towards his with two blunt fingertips beneath your chin.

Your features were suffused with ethereal shadows, making your eyes glimmer with haunted liquid fire. Kuroo stared into those molten depths, every muscle in his body locked taut as he waged a silent war with the compulsions howling through his bloodstream.

To claim your lips in the searing, profane manner they had taunted and tempted with such maddening ardor? Or to retreat from the brink of that scorching precipice once more before he immolated the last tattered remnants of restraint still just barely tethering his hungers in place?

Kuroo could feel the answer being etched into the twin brands of your shared exhales, the tantalizing give of your body cradled against his hardening form. Every atom and synapse screamed for capitulation to the searing potential hanging like a livewire between your mouths.

With what felt like monumental effort, he dragged his lips across your searing cheekbone instead - angling his mouth to brand a searing path towards your brow. You shuddered fully beneath his roving caress, fingers clenching in the thick material of Kuroo's sweatshirt as if to tether yourself in place.

Finally, Kuroo pressed his lips against the warm silk of your forehead in what felt like a ghosting benediction – an aching promise to soothe and protect the most fragile innocence blooming within the banked furnace of your temptations. He lingered in that tenuous stasis, coaxing the stinging behind his eyes to relent long enough to steady his voice.

"Sleep well, little one," he rasped out at last in a tone gone rough with too many competing compulsions. "I'll be back before you know it, so try not to study too hard for once while I'm gone."

Reluctantly, he allowed his arms to fall away from you – slowly enough to avoid any abrupt separation that might shatter the fragile symbiosis you'd achieved. Then he turned to retreat, unable to risk glimpsing whatever swirling riptides of emotion still churned behind your mercurial depths.

Kuroo made it as far as the corridor leading towards the stairwell before his breaths began sawing erratically again, lungs burning with the effort of containing the turbulent hungers still prowling his inner battlefields.

The rest of the short trip towards the office building passed in a blur. In an effort to quiet his riotous thoughts, Kuroo found himself spontaneously re-routing his steps towards one of the neighborhood's more upscale bakeries instead. Perhaps a sugary indulgence and the simple, unassuming ambiance of the place could buoy his spirits and purchase some semblance of peace once more...

He had just collected a small box of artisanal marzipan fruits and some chocolates from the smiling confectioner when his phone began trilling. Kuroo felt his gut plummet straight through the floor as Kenma's name flashed on the screen.

Nearly dropping his purchase in the scramble to accept the incoming call, he pressed the device to his ear and tried to ignore the way his voice cracked upon answering.

"Hey, everything okay? You're still in Italy, right?"

There was a pregnant pause from the other line, followed by a low clearing of his best friend's throat. "Ah, yeah...yeah, I'm still in Milan until the weekend at least."

Another terse silence stretched between them - leaving Kuroo plenty of phantom shadows to populate with increasingly paranoid visions of half-articulated transgressions exposed. He was just about to blurt out some frantic platitude or innocuous excuse when Kenma's mild baritone interjected again.

"Sorry, I don't mean to call unannounced like this," he began in his usual reserved candor. "It's just...well, I've tried reaching [Y/N] herself but she hasn't picked up all day, and I wanted to check-"

"Oh, no, she's totally fine!" The words burst out in a panic-soaked rush before Kuroo could help himself. He forced himself to take a steadying inhale before continuing in a more modulated tone. "Yeah, we've just been...keeping busy and all while you're away. You know how she gets sometimes."

He winced at his own flustered rambling, but pressed on, desperate to steer the conversation away from dangerous territory. "Actually, it's kind of impressive. [Y/N] has really doubled down on her studies this week."

There was a pregnant pause on the other end before Kenma's responding laughter filtered through, dry and mildly disbelieving. "My [Y/N]? Studying voluntarily without being threatened bodily harm? Now I know you're kidding me, Kuroo."

Kuroo smiled thinly, well aware of how unlikely his claims sounded given your typical scholarly apathy. Still, he persisted, an idea sparking with sudden conviction. "I'm being totally serious, man. She's been holed up in her room almost nonstop, burying her nose in books and typing away at assignments. It's like she got body-snatched by a model honors student or something."

The laughter faded into skeptical quiet as Kenma seemed to realize his best friend wasn't joking around. "Wow...I, uh...I don't really know what to say," he admitted, sounding mildly bewildered. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled if she's taking her coursework seriously for once. But you have to admit it's a pretty drastic turnaround for my little hellraiser."

Kuroo couldn't help but grin ruefully at the apt description, old memories of teenage hellraising antics replaying in his mind's eye. "Tell me about it. I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop and some massive rager or scandal to emerge."

"Hey now, don't give her ideas!" Kenma's feigned scolding was tinged with paternal fondness that made Kuroo's chest clench unexpectedly. "I'm putting my faith in you to keep her on this suddenly motivated path."

"You got it, don't worry," Kuroo assured him, tamping down the reflexive urge to confess the twisted detours you'd nearly led him down already. He sighed, shifting the bakery box to his opposite hand as he stepped out into the dusky evening air. "I'll keep a close-"

His words trailed off abruptly as his gaze landed on a darkened alleyway across the street. There, illuminated by a security lamp's harsh glow, a couple was intertwined in a heated embrace against someone's parked car. More specifically, the unmistakable figure of a young woman in a criminally short dress was straddling her companion's lap, hands fisted in his hair as she devoured his mouth with wild abandon.

Despite the poor lighting, something about the tumble of hair and feminine curves sparked a flicker of disquieting familiarity in Kuroo's chest. He squinted, trying to make out more details before forcing out an awkward chuckle.

"Damn Kenma, you're never gonna believe what I'm looking at right now," he muttered, unable to tear his gaze from the brazen public display even as he cringed. "Some chick literally grinding on some poor bastard's car like she's filming the intro to a bad porno. And get this - she looks dead-on like [Y/N]!"

The crass attempt at humorous deflection died on his lips as the security lamp flared brighter, casting the woman's face into sharp relief. Because there was no mistaking the upturned nose, the sensuous curve of those lips currently trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along her partner's stubbly jawline...

It was you.

His daughter. His precious, frustratingly impulsive little girl straddling a stranger in the filthiest backstreet grope Kuroo had ever witnessed...right under his nose while he regaled Kenma with laughable tales of your studious reformation.

Something seemed to splinter behind Kuroo's ribcage as numbness descended like a burial shroud. He barely registered Kenma's concerned voice buzzing against his ear until the words "...llo? Kuroo? You still there?" pierced through the fog.

"Uh...y-yeah, sorry," he stammered weakly, unable to tear his gaze away even as you gyrated against your would-be lover with shameless abandon. "No, you're...you're absolutely right. Just another unfounded worry on my part."

He forced out a hollow chuckle, bile stinging the back of his throat as his stare stubbornly remained transfixed. "Don't worry about a thing over here. Everything is...is totally under control as per usual..."

The lie dripped like acid from his numb lips, curdling what little remained of his composure into smoldering embers. Before Kenma could probe or contradict further, Kuroo managed to force out some pithy excuse about paperwork needing attention and quickly terminated the call.

He stood rooted in place, chest heaving with ragged breaths as he absorbed the full, damning picture before him. You - tender, smart, mature you who mere hours ago had sworn up and down to reform your rebellious ways - rutting against a stranger in the most brazen, obscene manner imaginable.

The girl Kuroo had admonished himself to protect above all else, even his own pitiful weaknesses, was practically unraveled beyond recognition before his eyes. And all he could do was stand helpless witness while the sordid tableau unfolded around him like the punchline to a particularly cruel, cosmic joke.

Kuroo's entire being detonated into an inferno of fury as he watched you grind shamelessly against the stranger, uncaring of the sordid public spectacle. Every muscle went taut, tendons straining beneath his skin as a crimson haze of rage descended.

Part of him raged at the brazen deception - the fresh wounds of your earnest vows to reform and focus on your studies still burning raw. He'd actually begun to entertain cautious hope that this tempestuous chapter between you might reach some semblance of equilibrium once more. But here you were, spitting on that fragile detente without a shred of remorse.

But an even larger part seethed with something darker, more visceral. A primal, proprietary need to rip you away from that defiling embrace and reclaim what was his by...what? Right? Possession? The twisted tangle of sinful cravings you'd awakened anew these past few days that now clamored to be sated at any cost?

Kuroo's jaw clenched hard enough to grind enamel as you threw back your head in apparent bliss, lips parting in a punched-out moan of shameless rapture. His vision whited out momentarily, entire body going rigid as that same bestial impulse to claim and conquer you flared with blinding intensity.

Before conscious thought could fully intervene, his legs propelled him across the street in long, devouring strides. You didn't even register his thunderous approach until he was upon you, one large hand fisting in the hair at your nape to wrench you backwards.

"What the everloving fuck do you think you're doing?" Kuroo's voice lashed out in a guttural snarl so unrecognizable, even he barely identified it.

You yelped at the violent snapping of your heads, features contorting in a wince of discomfort as you were forcibly separated from your would-be conquest. Your erstwhile partner blinked in shock before bristling indignantly.

"Hey man, what the hell is your pro-"

Kuroo whirled on the hapless stranger with a look of such barely leashed violence, the other man actually flinched back. You seized the momentary distraction to scramble off the car's hood, chest heaving and confusion written large across your delicate features.

"Tetsurou, what are you-"

But Kuroo cut off your protest by reaching out and fisting an iron grip in your upper arm. You gasped at the punishing force, squirming futilely as his fingers dug in without mercy.

"We're leaving," Kuroo spat out through grinding molars, hauling you bodily against his side. "Now."

The unfortunate bystander who'd had his lurid plans so rudely interrupted seemed to rally his machismo at last. Squaring his shoulders, he took an inadvisable step forward - fists clenched and chest puffed out in a transparent display of misguided intimidation.

"Hey pal, I don't know who the hell you are," he sneered in a tone that was almost laughably unthreatening to Kuroo. "But you need to back the fuck off before I make you. The lady and I were in the middle of something private."

You opened your mouth to protest or deflect - undoubtedly either an innocuous excuse or an outright attempt at sneaking away if Kuroo had to guess. But any chance of mitigating this catastrophic situation through words or hollow placation had already burned to ashes in his blistering fury.

"Shut your goddamn mouth before I shut it for you," Kuroo growled, voice descending to a register of pure hellfire and devouring intent.

He didn't wait for the confused fratboy to rally another feeble retort. With insulting ease, Kuroo dragged you around and slammed the smaller man against the hood of the same car that had been the backdrop to such sordid debauchery only moments ago.

"This woman is my girlfriend," he snarled directly into the man's ashen face, not even registering the lie as it spilled from his bile-stained tongue. "And if you so much as look at her the wrong way again, I'll bury you out here in a shallow fucking grave. Nod if you understand."

The other man nodded with frantic obedience, every trace of posturing now wiped away by the tangible promise of violence rolling off Kuroo in searing waves. He barely registered you trying to twist out of his bruising grip, frantically motioning towards the terrified bystander.

"T-Tetsurou, stop! You're scaring him!" You hissed through plump, swollen lips. "Just let me handle this, you're only making it worse!"

With a wordless rumble of unadulterated venom, Kuroo tightened his fist in your hair and wrenched your head aside until your full attention focused solely on him.

"Don't you dare try and control the narrative now, little girl," he spat in a tone laced with sulfur and sin. Noting your flicker of apprehension at the potent authority in his commanding rumble seemed to kickstart some sadistic amalgam of satisfaction and self-loathing in his gut. "You lost all privileges to dictate anything when you decided to spread your legs and make a whore of yourself five minutes ago in public like a desperate fucking slut."

Your eyes widened into saucers at the vulgar insult, color searing your cheeks to match the angry flush staining your chest. But you wisely remained silent, apparently sensing the knife's edge Kuroo now teetered upon.

Not sparing the traumatized third wheel so much as a glance, Kuroo finally released his grip only to seize your arm once more. He dragged you away from the sordid scene in a wake of your stumbling footfalls, beelines towards where his car idled with ruthless intent.

"I swear to every higher power listening," he growled through clenched teeth as he hauled you implacably forward. "If you so much as look at another man between here and home, I'll toss you in the trunk like a misbehaving pet."

You couldn't entirely muffle the wounded sound that wrenched free, even as the furious compliance in your strides never faltered. Kuroo relished the heady swirl of shame and debauched satisfaction with equal relish - an intoxicating amalgam of brutality and corruption that threatened to rip the very seams of his tattered control wide asunder.

The drive back to Kuroo's apartment passed in thick, seething silence. You huddled against the passenger door, arms wrapped defensively around your midsection as you steadfastly avoided Kuroo's burning glare. The air was choked with unspoken recriminations and simmering fury.

Kuroo's knuckles were bone-white where they gripped the steering wheel, tendons standing out in harsh relief against his forearms. His jaw muscles ticked and flexed as he ground his teeth, struggling to contain the torrent of anger and disappointment roiling just beneath the surface.

When they finally arrived, Kuroo threw the car into park with more force than necessary, the tires chirping in protest. Without a word, he flung open his door and stormed towards the building's entrance, expecting you to follow. The fact that you immediately fell into step behind him only stoked his ire further.

It wasn't until you were both inside, the apartment door slamming shut with an ominous thud, that the dam finally burst.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Kuroo's voice lashed out like a whip crack in the tense quiet. He turned on you, eyes blazing with a mix of fury and something darker, more visceral. "Going off half-cocked like some reckless teenager chasing the next cheap thrill?"

You lifted your chin defiantly, refusing to be cowed. "I don't need to explain myself to you, Kuroo. You're not my father."

"You're damn right I'm not," he growled, advancing until you were forced to tip your head back to maintain eye contact. "Because if I was, I'd have spanked your disobedient little ass into next week a long time ago."

Your nostrils flared, clearly affronted by his harsh words. "That's real rich coming from the guy who nearly mauled a complete stranger just because he was getting a little action."

A muscle in Kuroo's cheek twitched at your mocking insinuation. "Don't play dumb, [Y/N]. We both know that shameless display had nothing to do with a casual hookup. You were out there practically begging to be treated like a glorified street walker."

His voice was low, dangerous, but you didn't back down an inch. If anything, your eyes glinted with fresh belligerence.

"And what if I was?" You challenged, jutting your chin out stubbornly. "My body, my choice who I decide to allow all over it. What's it to you, really?"

Kuroo closed the remaining distance between you in two strides, his larger frame suddenly looming over yours in clear intimidation. But rather than shrink away, you simply tilted your head back further, almost goading him with your refusal to yield.

"You want to act like a selfish, rebellious brat who doesn't comprehend consequences?" His voice was a rough growl now. "Fine, we can do this the hard way."

Your eyes widened a fraction at the tacit threat, but you disguised any trace of unease with a derisive snort. "Oh yeah? You gonna put me over your knee too while you're playing stern disciplinarian? Because we both know how well that worked out last time."

There it was - the flash of unmistakable hunger flickering to lurid life behind Kuroo's stare. You saw it, knew exactly which button you'd just pressed to fan the flames of his smoldering temper into something...else entirely.

"Keep pushing me," he rumbled, so close now that his words puffed hot over your parted lips. "I'm begging you, princess. Give me one more bratty remark, one more button to justify bending you over and showing you exactly what dealing with a selfish little brat like you really entails."

There was a beat of loaded silence, the undercurrent between you becoming a live wire of yearning and reproach in equal measure. Your tongue darted out to wet your lower lip, and Kuroo's gaze tracked the motion with laser focus, a muscle feathering in his clenched jaw.

"Is that a promise?" The words were little more than a throaty rasp, both challenge and outright invitation wrapped in velvet sin.

Kuroo's harsh exhale ruffled your hair, the sound more akin to a predator's growl than anything remotely human. Then, without warning, his hands landed on your hips in an unforgiving grip as he wrenched you flush against his rigid frame.

The breath stalled in your lungs as they finally breached that last fraying tether of resistance. One of you moaned - you couldn't tell who - before your mouths collided in a bruising, frantic clash of lips and teeth and shuddering need.

Kuroo's fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips hard enough to leave lurid blossoms of mottled imprints as he wrenched you against the searing brand of his cock. A ragged growl tore from deep in his chest - part exaltation, part feral conquest - as your bodies collided with heated friction.

"You want this so fucking bad, don't you?" The words emerged in a gravel-roughened rasp that seemed to reverberate straight through to your molten core. "All those pouty little teases and wanton displays, just baiting me to give you exactly what your greedy body has been begging for."

He didn't give you a chance to respond before crushing his mouth over yours in a bruising, devouring kiss that rapidly turned slick and filthy. His tongue swept past your gasping lips to lash against yours in blatant possession, searing paths of possession that seared straight down to your quivering center as surely as any physical brand.

You whimpered against the onslaught, hands scrabbling up Kuroo's broad back to clench in the taut musculature knotted there. His hips rolled against you with a carnal grind of dominance that made you instinctively part your thighs wider in helpless invitation.

Kuroo noted your wanton display instantly, growling his viciously smug approval against the vulnerable curve of your throat where his scorching path led next.

"Fuck, look at you..." he rasped in a tone transmuted to pure gravel-laced decadence. "So goddamn desperate to take everything I've got already, and I've barely even begun claiming what's mine."

His fingers squeezed even tighter into the giving flesh of your ass, hauling you up until you were forced to lock your legs around his narrow hips to avoid tumbling fully into his punishing momentum. Kuroo took advantage instantly, rutting against your cloth-dampened heat with searing undulations that made your head fall back on a breathless moan.

"That's it, beautiful," he growled against the rapid flutter of your pulse point before lathing a heated path along the bared slope with his tongue. "Let me feel every one of those pretty little whimpers you've been dying to release..."

One large palm slid higher to palm the generous swell of your breast with merciless ownership. Your back arched as if electrified, nipples pebbling to diamond-sharp points that were promptly soothed by the calloused friction of Kuroo's palm kneading the swollen curves.

"A single night of you taunting me with that heavenly body was almost my undoing," Kuroo confessed in a fractured rasp that set your nerves afire. His lush lips branded a molten path up the vulnerable column of your throat until you trembled against him fully.

"Fuck...I can only imagine how quickly I would've self-destructed if I'd had you spread out and waiting for me with those big eyes begging for my cock night after night..."

Your entire body seized at the guttural benediction, walls fluttering against the scorching outline of Kuroo's cock still rutting against you with blistering intent. He swallowed your keening whimper with another punishing kiss that left you dizzy - tasting coppery crimson and utterly overwhelmed in the wake of his ruthless dominion.

By the time he tore his mouth from yours at last, you were quaking against him like a leaf in a storm - overwrought and delirious with a forbidden inferno now raging unchecked.

"Stay with me..." Kuroo entreated in a cadence that felt scored straight into your flayed nerves. The calloused rasp of his fingertips trailed rioting spirals of shattered restraint as he petted your sweat-dampened tresses back from your flushed features.

"Stay right here while I finally put that dirty little mouth of yours to use..." He ground out the barely-cloaked threat through gritted teeth. Those piercing hazel eyes you'd admired for so long now sparked with more lust and menace and proprietary challenge blazing behind them than you'd ever glimpsed before.

And the most terrifying part was how it didn't make you quail or retreat but rather molten thrills of eagerness knot in your quivering belly as Kuroo slowly lowered you back to your shaky feet. Heat sang straight through your veins at whatever reckoning had finally been unleashed between you...and how utterly powerless you felt to halt its all-consuming torrents even if you'd wanted to.

Kuroo stepped back at last, allowing you space enough to sway in dizzy abandon at the sudden deprivation of his scorching embrace. He watched you with the heated focus of a starving man beholding the most decadent delicacy - eyes burning over every trembling inch as his chest heaved with ragged drafts.

Then he lifted one hand towards you in a cruelly languid beckoning that made your entire body ignite with fevered possibility. That same hand you'd felt cradle your cheek was now extended imperiously, awaiting the benediction of total capitulation from your wrecked, overblown form.

"Come here..." Kuroo husked out with quiet promise that brooked no refusal. "And let me feel that greedy little cunt stretched around me while I teach it some manners for once."

With a strangled gasp, you stumbled forward on leaden legs. You didn't dare tear your gaze away from the predator's eyes that pinned you with such carnal hunger. Didn't risk shattering this fever-dream of temptation and utter ruination that seemed poised to engulf you completely.

When you were within arm's reach, Kuroo wasted no time, wrenching you flush against him with a bruising grip on your hip. Your lips parted in a startled gasp at the searing contact of his rigid cock grinding against the soaked gusset of your panties, but before any sound could escape, Kuroo had already seized the back of your neck with his other hand.

Your eyes flew wide in shock at the sheer possessive weight of his grip pinning you in place. But even as you tried to wrench away, a sharp slap across your ass stilled you immediately.

"That's right, beautiful," Kuroo purred, low and deadly. He rocked his hips in a punishing roll against the soaked seam of your underwear that made you shudder in helpless bliss. "You've got no say anymore. Not when you decided to behave like a reckless, attention-starved little brat and beg for someone else's cock like a cheap whore. No..."

He gave a rough, rumbling growl that vibrated all the way down your spine. Your toes curled against the floor, thighs quivering with the effort to remain upright under the onslaught. His words were like a physical brand, scorching their way through the remnants of your tattered resistance.

"From now on, I own every inch of you, including that perfect pussy," he crooned, the filthy promise making your cunt clench. "Every single delectable inch is mine to do with as I please. And if that means teaching you a lesson in the process..."

You could feel his smirk against your ear, the sharp, dangerous edge of it making you whimper. His palm slid from your neck, fingers wrapping around your throat with a firm pressure. Your eyes fluttered closed at the deliciously heady sensation, pulse fluttering under his touch.

"Then so be it."

You squealed as Kuroo suddenly lifted you off your feet, his hands gripping the back of your thighs to hoist them up and around his waist. Without a word, he started carrying you toward his bedroom, a small, distant corner of your brain marveling at his effortless strength.

Your back collided with his mattress a moment later, the abrupt impact forcing the air from your lungs in a startled gasp. Kuroo stood over you, hands working furiously at the buckle of his belt and the button of his slacks. The sight made something dark and twisted unravel deep in your belly, a need so overwhelming it threatened to drown you entirely.

The belt came free first, followed shortly by his pants. He made no move to remove them, simply lowering his boxers just enough to free the engorged length of his cock. The sight stole your breath all over again, your eyes greedily drinking in the sight of the thick, veiny shaft, already dripping with an ungodly amount of precum.

You didn't get long to stare, though, because a second later, Kuroo was grabbing your ankle and dragging you towards the edge of the bed. You yelped at the unexpected jolt, hands scrabbling for purchase in the soft sheets beneath you as he flipped your body around with ruthless ease.

His cock was now directly above your face, the tip dripping with need. With a low groan, Kuroo wrapped his fist around his throbbing shaft, pumping it slowly as his free hand grabbed the back of your head. Your scalp prickled at the sudden tug on your hair, a low, wounded sound escaping the back of your throat.

"You wanted this so bad, remember?" he grunted. His hand continued to pump his length, the head inches from your lips. You could see the way his cock twitched, hear the obscene sounds his hand made as he stroked himself, and your tongue darted out to swipe across your lower lip.

"Beg for it."

The command was simple and straightforward. Yet it struck at the deepest, most secret part of you, the part that was so desperate to be claimed, used, and ravaged, no matter the consequences. The part that had been aching for him since the day you'd first stayed with him.

"Please..." The word came out as a whine, pathetic and pitiful and needy. "Kuroo, please. Please fuck my mouth. Use me, however you want. I'm yours."

"Yes, you are," he rumbled. His hand tightened in your hair, pulling your face up to meet his cock. It slapped against your cheek, sticky pre-cum smearing along your skin, and a moan spilled from your lips. "Mine."

The tip of his cock dragged along your cheek, up towards your parted lips. It brushed across them, leaving a trail of his essence that you eagerly licked up, the bitter-salt taste flooding your mouth.

Kuroo groaned above you, eyes dark and dangerous and so fucking hungry. He thrust forward, cock sliding into your waiting mouth, and the world narrowed to that point of contact, the sensation of his length pressing against your tongue.

You moaned around his girth, and Kuroo's eyes fluttered closed, a hiss escaping him. He held your head in place as he began to fuck your mouth in slow, shallow thrusts, cock gliding along your tongue.

Your body felt alight with need, skin burning and prickling and electrified. Everything was too much and not enough, the air charged with anticipation and desire and an undercurrent of desperation. Your thighs pressed together, trying to alleviate some of the building pressure, and a muffled cry escaped you at the friction.

Kuroo opened his eyes at the sound, gaze darting down to where you squirmed on the bed. A low chuckle rumbled from him, and he withdrew his cock, letting it hover in front of your face. A thin trail of spit and pre-cum connected the tip to your lips, and the sight sent a shiver through you, made you clench around nothing.

"Is someone feeling left out?" Kuroo murmured, voice dripping with wicked promise. You nodded, unable to speak, and his cock twitched, another bead of pre-cum leaking from the slit.

"Then be a good girl and get yourself off for me. I want to watch while I fuck your mouth."

He waited until you'd shifted onto your knees, hand sliding down your belly, before plunging back inside your mouth. You moaned, the vibrations making his cock twitch, and slid your fingers underneath the band of your panties.

Your arousal was coating the insides of your thighs, had likely left a damp spot on the sheets beneath you, and you bit back a whine at the slick, gliding sensation as you ran two fingers along your folds. They slipped inside effortlessly, your walls already pulsing and hot and so, so needy.

Kuroo watched it all with an intensity that was both thrilling and terrifying, the hand not holding your head steady flexing into a fist as he fought for control. His hips rocked into you with more purpose, and your own fingers found the spot that had you seeing stars.

The room filled with the wet, squelching sounds of your fingers pumping into your pussy, the slap of Kuroo's balls hitting your chin, and his deep, guttural moans. Your free hand came up to cup his balls, and he growled, thrusting deeper into your mouth.

"Fuck," he rasped. His eyes were hooded, and you could feel him swelling in your mouth. "Take your panties off. I want to see you cum with my cock down your throat."

You shuddered at the crude words, pulling your soaked fingers from your dripping pussy and hooking them around the fabric to pull it down your legs. It fell to the floor, and you spread your thighs wider, fingers diving back to the apex of your legs.

A strangled noise tore from Kuroo's throat, and he thrust harder, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat with each snap of his hips. His pace was growing erratic, and you could tell he was close, could feel his balls tightening in your palm.

You pumped your fingers faster, the pressure in your belly building, coiling tighter and tighter. You were so fucking close, and the knowledge that Kuroo was seconds away from blowing his load down your throat was almost enough to send you over the edge.

"Look at me."

You obeyed instantly, eyes locking onto his. The intensity of his gaze nearly shattered you, the raw desire, the possessive hunger, the sheer need written on his face. Your walls clenched around your fingers, and the dam broke, a gush of liquid heat spilling from your core as you came.

Kuroo swore, his eyes fixed on the puddle of cum soaking into the sheets, and then his hips stuttered, cock jerking violently as he came. Hot, sticky ropes of cum coated your throat, and you swallowed around his length, milking him for every last drop.

His chest was heaving when he finally pulled out, his fist releasing its hold on your hair to lazily squeeze the remnants of his orgasm onto your lips. You opened without thinking, licking his cum from your lips as it fell, and Kuroo groaned.

"Fucking hell, you're perfect," he breathed, tucking his cock back into his boxers. He bent to scoop you up in his arms, cradling you to his chest like a precious treasure. "Kenma raised a fucking goddess. I don't know how the hell I'm supposed to ever let you leave this bed now."

The rest of your stay was a haze of sweat-slicked skin, tangled sheets, and broken cries. Kuroo spent the remainder of the week fucking you every way he could, on every available surface, until you could no longer think straight, until your legs were trembling from exertion and you were covered in a multitude of love bites and hickeys.

But the one thing that stuck with you most, the image that had been burned into your mind from the moment you'd arrived, was the look of pure, undiluted worship in Kuroo's eyes.

And it was that look that made you realize you would never be able to leave him, not for good. Because somewhere between the late-night talks and the teasing banter and the way he looked at you, Tetsurou had taken root in your heart.

The day of Kenma's return dawned with an electric undercurrent thrumming through the apartment. You stirred against Kuroo's furnace-hot skin, roused by the featherlight caresses he was trailing down the dips of your spine.

"He'll be here soon," Kuroo murmured, the graveled timbre of his morning voice making you shiver. There was an unspoken weight behind the words, an acknowledgment that your insular haven was nearing its inevitable end.

Rather than being cowed by the looming presence of reality, you felt a defiant spark flare to life in your core. Pushing up to your knees, you allowed the tangled sheet to slip sinuously from your body in a gauzy susurration until you knelt gloriously bare before Kuroo's riveted stare.

"Then we'd better make the most of our time left," you breathed, bracing your palms on his powerful chest as you straddled his hips purposefully.

Kuroo's hands flexed against your waist, fingers digging in with delicious possession. "You're insatiable, baby girl." His voice dropped an octave, dripping with undisguised sin. "Thought I'd have worked some of that greedy energy out of you by now."

"You'll just have to try harder then, won't you?" You leaned down to slant your lips over his in a messy, eager clash.

Kuroo surged upright with a growl, rolling you both until he caged you beneath the solid brand of his weight. His broad palms mapped scorching paths down your body until he was gripping the underside of your knees. Then he shoved your pliant legs apart to make room for his cock to grind forward in one slick, insistent thrust.

You cried out at the searing friction, back bowing as he bottomed out within your velvet depths. Kuroo swallowed the ragged sound with a searing kiss, setting a punishing pace that knocked the breath from your lungs.

"That's it, babygirl," he growled against the swell of your gasping lips. "Open up and take every thick inch of me while you still can..."

He drove into you then with undisguised relish, the bed frame creaking ominously beneath you. You locked your ankles at the small of Kuroo's back to brace yourself, fingertips scoring delicious crimson streaks along the corded ridges until your shared grunts and rough gasps filled the room.

You lost track of how many times he brought you to that shattering precipice, your cries reaching a fevered peak before Kuroo dragged you inexorably back over the edge with each new brutal joining. Only the muffled buzzing of Kenma's text chime finally caused Kuroo to slow his insistent rhythm.

"Looks like daddy's on his way up," he rumbled, sweat-slick hair hanging in wild disarray around his beautifully wrecked features.

Pinning you with a smoldering look of pure sin, Kuroo rose onto his knees, thick forearms flexing as he gripped your hips and heaved them upward to allow even deeper penetration.

"Time for one more ride, beautiful. Make it loud so he knows exactly who his little girl belongs to now..."

[i-loved-silly]

(PART 2) - WOLVERINE x READER x DEADPOOL — fuckup twinsies

dp&w spoilers!! + slight gore description --- part 1

Okay, recap.

Your perfect little day in dimension-travel-jail was interrupted. You almost got knocked out by two muscular men who came down from the sky like little drunk angels, who in turn happened to be famous characters. You don't know how you didn't realize earlier, guess timeline hopping also slowly melts your brain. You should really get an MRI exam sometime.

You almost passed out again when you realized you were chest-to-chest with Deadpool. Wade Wilson. Heart to heart. Body to body. Tip to tip, if that applies to you.

"You're real. I'm real. We're real." You deadpanned, stars almost twinkling in your eyes. No, maybe it wasn't the first time you've met a Deadpool. But this guy? He was the real deal. The original. How the hell did an original end up here?

"Pfft, you thought we were just drawings on paper? Two of the world's sexiest men in skintight costumes? Wrong. We're the real deal here, friendo. Can I call you that? Or will you try to kill me? You know I really didn't mean to crash into you I rea--"

"Alright, listen here. Wade, shut up. You," Logan pointed a finger at him then at you, still being embraced by Wade. "Do you understand any of the...nonsense he's talking about? Because I don't, and I don't. Have. Time for this. It's either you help me get out of here or get out of my way."

"Woah woah woah, since when did that 'we' turn into 'me'?" Wade reluctantly let go of you to walk up to Logan, his hands landing on his hips. "You're not the only one trapped here, you know, we're kind of all in the same boat here. We all fucked up our lives and it was definitely our fault bu--ACK"

You gasped, watching in horror as three silver claws stabbed straight through Wade's torso and out his back. Logan stalked closer, his scowl deepening. "Come again?" He taunted, his teeth grinding. Before Wade could get a word out, Logan turned his hand, twisting the blades inside of him.

"G-owww, FUCK. God, I swear this happened differently in another universe. Somehow hurts more this ti--" Logan stopped him again and began lifting him up in the air. By the torso. With his claws inside, being the only thing holding him up.

Your eyes widened, "Hey, guys stop that! Logan!"  You yelled, taking a step forward, your hands held up in the air defensively.

Logan briefly glanced in your direction and grunted, tossing Wade to the side. “Move aside, bub. We need to settle some things.” Then he…lunged at Wade. They just started fucking fighting each other.

You backed up, watching everything go down. This could not be real. “I thought…you guys wanted out?” You muttered, your voice barely heard over their grunting and blades clashing.

“You know it’s true, so--argh, no hard feelings, right? Plus, I forgive you Wolvie.”

“I don’t give a damn about what you think, Wade. It’s all your fucking fault I was dragged into this. I was doing just fine without yo—“

“Just fine? You call spending all your days at bars and drinking all their supply just fine? While your life crumbles around you like a house of cards. If we were really on the TVA's watchlist, maybe they should've just sent us all to anger management sessions, huh?"

“Stop fighting!” You shouted in a voice heavy with irritation, grabbing a clump of sand from the ground and hurling it in their direction.

Logan, reacting instinctively, closed his eyes and shoved Wade aside, now choking and coughing violently. “What the hell?”

Simultaneously, Wade spun to face away, retching into the sand. “Oh god it’s inside of my mask. It’s in my face hole—“

Logan regained himself quicker than Wade, to where he immediately brushed aside the sand on his face and stomped towards you. You took a step back, by the sight of his fists clenched and white knuckles you swore he was about to beat you. “Waitwaitwait! I don’t have healing factor!” You rambled and held your hands out.

He paused in his tracks, his jaw visibly clenching as he tried to control his anger. Yeah, maybe he was used to taking out his frustrations on himself and now..Deadpool. But he couldn’t do that to you. You’re not even involved in whatever shit they got themselves into. You didn't deserve to get roped in their..mess, whatever it was. He let out an annoyed breath and swiveled away, seething internally. "I wasn't going to hurt you."

You slowly put your hands down, then looked around to see Wade still rolling on the floor. Upon hearing Logan, he snapped his head towards you both, the eyes of his mask widening. Before he could even get a little, tiny, miniscule word out, you spoke.

"ANYWAY...ehm..you both want out, yes? This is all one big mistake? I could help you. I've survived out here this long without being brutally killed." You forced a grin, facing the two. They blinked.

"Killed? What..who is in charge of killing here?" Logan narrowed his eyes.

Wade stood up to his feet, popping his wrist back into place. "There's--" His face under his mask soured, god he could still feel the sand particles crunching around between his teeth.

"ugh, there's others around? What kind of crazies would wanna live here?" He raised his arms, gesturing the vastness of this dystopian desert. Camera pans out, there's an echo to his voice, a tumbleweed passes by, you know what i mean

You scoffed, still very much salty about your own situation even though it's been years. "It's not like it was a choice. The only person could who take us out is Cassandra Nova, and she does not use her powers for that. She's basically with the freaking TVA, from what I know."

A singular laugh escaped Logan, his lips turning up in a knowing smirk, "Really now? How bad could she be?"

"Uh..let's see..multiple counts of murder, enslavement, power abuse, she's sadistic, evil, has a whole paragraph worth of powers. Unstoppable, basically?" You shrugged.

"I think we could get along."

"No, Wade."

"How do we get to her?" Logan crossed his arms. Perhaps he was the only one taking this seriously. You had gotten used to it already, but you too remembered how badly you wanted to leave this place at first.

"You two seem in a rush. "

"Yeah, well we're in a rush because I've got a whole-ass timeline to save, not to mention I also made a pinky swear to this guy over here. I promised the gruff-beard that I'd help him clean up his messy timeline, like a stain of last nights left ove-"

"Got it!" You exclaimed, interrupting him. "But uh, is that even possible? To..fix your guys' timelines, I mean."

"It better be," Logan glared at Wade. "Because otherwise, I'm going to tear you apart." He sneered, really making his point by leaning closer to him. These guys need to kiss already.

You nervously smiled. If another fight starts, you swear you were going to start ripping your own face off. "Okay! I know someone, guys! We'll all help eachother out, he's real nice, which means you probably won't like him--but he'll help! Follow me."

Oh, you knew someone alright. He was the most suburban-canadian guy you knew.

Lot's of dialogue in this, oops. This fic is kinda going off the plot of the movie, so I'm sure you know who you'll meet next! Leave ideas in the comments if you have any, since this fic is very freestyle and let me now...should i include the car scene we all wanted or too soon? GOODBYE! taglist <3 : @pink-jello-fish @radiantdanvers @superlegend216 @salted-snailz @wolfsune09 @jxssimae @remuslupinsfavoritebook @flannelforthetoads @rowanlovesmoonknight @bengewatch @i-shall-be-the-possum1 @kyriekurokami @marymustdie @tzurue @euinein @sophiemajokie @itsrainingtodayyy

[takeurexam]

guard down, because im safe around you

-sylus x gen! reader

>sylus is usually known for his cold demanour, his deal-addict dealings and being the leader of onychinus. he's known having his guard all the time, but when he meets you under the moonlight with fireworks, its as if he's a whole another person.

a/n: this can be mc or not :) i didnt think of mc, but if you want to, then sure

-inspired by nightplumes sylus like i love him that card is so good, and sorry if hes a little ooc

After your return to Linkon from the N109 zone, it feels awfully weird not seeing the dark skies, or the redish hue around the place. Linkon was... bright, compared to the N109 zone.

And you cant help but remember the oh-so annoying leader of Onychinus. You even feel yourself roll your eyes everytime you think of that man, although he was pretty much fine- he was annoying.

But you felt awfully bothered without him. You felt that the world lacked a little without the leader of onychinus teasing you, or making deals with you or some other people.

Well, he wasn't the only teasing man known to man, or unfazed.. and cocky, along with overpowered... but why was it that he felt different if you looked for someone like him? There were a lot like him in Linkon, yet he's the only one you wish to meet.

"Hey, you okay?" Tara bumps your shoulder as you stood there by the coffee machine, "You've been staring at the machine for like... two minutes straight." She tilts her head, with concern on her face.

"Huh? Oh yeah. Im fine." You honestly hope you were, because you dont wanna even think about the man anymore who scrambled across your thoughts.

"Sure? Well, see you." She shrugs and skips away from you as you blink into reality, remembering you still had work to do for the afternoon.

You sit down your desk, scrolling down your computer to see Linkon's latest news, chirping into the articles. A few more hours of work to go, then.

"Take a break." Tara nudges you, "Im gonna head over to the snack bar, you should get some air at the balcony." She points towards the snack bar, as you nod at her suggestion.

"Sure, eat well." You wave to her while she walks away. You prepare to stand up, along with a stretch and a yawn as you bring your phone and some snack to relax at the balcony for a while.

You make your way to the balcony; you push open the door to the balcony to reveal a snowy balcony with snow still pouring from the sky. You hug your coat tightly as you head over to the rails and admire the view.

The view was just the dark nights of Linkon, with the white snow dropping all around the bright city. You take a bite of your snack as you admire the view, taking in some fresh air, and not some from the office.

A caw suddenly interrupted your moment, as you see a familliar bird.. or crow, clawed over at the rails, staring at you.

"Mephisto?" You tilt your head, as you look at the mechanical bird, "Why are you here?" You touch it to confirm if it really is the mechanical crow, which indeed, it was.

"Sylus probably sent you out for an errand. You probably just noticed me over this balcony." Chuckling to yourself, you were reminded of the man you just mentioned.

You look over to the crow, "Its nice having company. Even atleast if you're a mechanical crow, its still quite comforting somehow."

The crow just caws as its head tilts, keeping its eye on you.

"I wonder, how is Sylus doing?" You stare back into the city view, "Its been a while since i've returned to Linkon. I haven't talked to Sylus in a while, which oddly feels weird." You start mumbling out.

"Its as if a part of me is still used to the N109 zone." You chuckle, "Im speaking nonsense now." You look over to the crow, "I'll be heading back in, Mephisto. Continue your errand." You walk away, but you dont forget to wave goodbye to the crow.

The time was currently 9:00pm, and you did your weekly overtime today. It was quite a tiring day, and you still had to drive your way home, despite being tired.

You grip the wheel of your car, as you start the engine; your phone suddenly rings unusually. But once you read the name, you dont hesitate any longer as you answer the call.

"Sweetie." There he was. The person your heart somehow missed- the one who your mind declined yet your heart was accepting, the Leader of Onychinus. His deep voice lingered around your ear.

"Sylus? Its about nine, what do you need?" You reply, gripping your phone in your hand.

"Meet me at the city lake." He suddenly announces, as your heart beats, "Huh?" You keep your voice normal, pretending that your heart was drumming hundreds per second.

"I thought a part of you missed me?" He chuckles against the phone, as you feel yourself go red, "No I dont- it was the N109 zone-" You pause. "How do you know I said something like that? Wait no-" You stumble with your words, with Sylus just laughing at you.

"Just go, Sweetie."

So here you were, driving 70km as you drove over to the designated location Sylus requested for you two to meet. Its as if you were late to work, and you drove so fast than you usually would, just for Sylus.

You find somewhere to park the car, as you notice his motorcycle parked nearby, which indicated that he was just somewhere close to you.

And there he was, his back facing you as he leaned over to the rails nearby the lake, he was wearing a brown coat which fit him perfectly.

His white hair was full of snow, which you let out a quiet snicker.

You approach him as he notices your prescence; oddly, you notice him flinch a little, which you assume his guard was down.

"You're fast." He comments along with a chuckle, as he adds, "There was a firework show in Linkon today, Luke and Kieran told me, and I suppose I needed a break." He looks at the sky.

"Did Mephisto tell you?" You cross your arms, he laughs, "I watch Mephisto fifty percent of my time. Of course, it would not go unnoticed that it saw a beauty like you, sweetie." There he is again, with his teasing.

"I didn't know there was a show today." You mumble, as you watch the sky in anticipation, "I've been so drowned lately." You sigh, breathing in the nice cold air.

As you anticipated, the fireworks suddenly erupted into the sky as you watch them, with your eyes sparkling.

Sylus dosent even bother to look at the sparkling fireworks. Why would he look at something else thats bright, when the brightest thing he could see was you?

When he notices you about to look back at him, he looks back into the sky, diverting his gaze from you.

"You really are dedicated." You giggle, as you notice the snow again on his hair, "Let me remove the snow on your hair." He smirks, leaning closer to you with his eyes closed.

Your mittens brush the snow from his hair, as he smiled with his eyes closed softly.

"Done!" You pull away as he does so too. He looks at you silently, a smile plastered around his face. "You could've just told me that you missed me, Sweetie." He brings up the balcony topic once again, as you feel your ears go red again.

"I dont miss you." You look away, embarassed.

"But I do." He blurts out.

You feel yourself slowly turn back to him, with your eyes widened, with his oh-so looking geniune smile around his lips. You feel your heart beating loudly that it would soon explode from your ears, and you feel your face fight the cold as you heat up.

"The N109 zone feels a little empty with you," He mumbles, awfully quiet. "I dont like feeling empty." He walks over closer to you, leaning towards you.

"So, let us fill that gap, right now." He leans closer to you as he presses his lips onto yours, snaking his hands over your waist, feeling your warmth.

You dont even process anything anymore except for his lips on yours, as you close your wide eyes, engulfing yourself into his lips, feeling the warmth of his lips cover yours.

Your arms wrap around his neck, as he deepens in further. The fireworks pop up once again, as two people stand under it, sharing their moment together.

bonus:

"What a nice kiss shared by those two." Captain Jenna, Xavier and Tara watch from the side, turning their gaze from the fireworks to the couple nearby.

"If only _____ was here. What a shame." Xavier crosses his arms.

"Wait."

The three pause, looking at the couple.

a/n: i usually write txt but i love this man so much bro 🙏 anyways, hope you guys enjoyed <3

see you soon, @takeurexam

[wannaeatramyeon]

How Lookism men confess to YOU they've caught feelings

G/N. Soft. Fluffy. All that good stuff. (Gun, Jake, Goo, James Lee/DG, Johan, Vin, Samuel, Eli, Ryuhei)

Gun opts for somewhere private, just the two of you. Whether that's his home, yours, or somewhere only you both know.

He tells you with certainty his feelings for you. That there's no point divulging if he didn't think it would work out, if you weren't better together.

Intensity radiates from him. His words, eyes, aura. He keeps his confession simple and to the point, unexpectedly romantic with how matter of fact he is.

.

.

Jake thought he was being subtle, but there's a lot of prying eyes in the shadows.

He shoos the Big Deal members away in his best authoritative, no nonsense boss tone. The one he reserves to deal with serious matters. Which this is. Of utmost seriousness.

Behind his beaming toothy grin and confident stance are anxious eyes. His words are cheesy and well-rehearsed. Sincerity pulses through his every fibre, leaving you starry eyed and breath hitched.

.

.

Goo announces his feelings with a grin on his lips.

Corners you somewhere crowded, at a completely inappropriate moment. But of course. It's only inappropriate if Goo deems it to be so, and there's no time like the present.

The words are said lightly, like he could play it off as a joke any moment. His ego too fragile for rejection. But his carefree attitude is off kilter, body language tense. Gaze steady and more serious than you have ever seen.

.

.

James is flippant. The arrogant, cocky man claims you as his already. Confesses without any doubt in his mind that rejection could happen, or it could sting.

He's not a gambling man. Only plays when the odds are in his favour and the gains far outweighs the losses.

There's no ifs or buts. Talks about 'us' and 'we' and a future where you're by his side.

.

.

Johan pulls out the words reluctantly and when you least expect. Like they will choke him if he keeps it from you any longer.

He says it without looking at you. Eyes fixed on the ground, a point in the distance, Miro, Eden, anywhere but you.

Brows knitted together, hands white knuckled. A second away from running away. But he needs to tell you, he has to. The words are too big to swallow down anymore.

.

.

Vin peppers his confession with insults and half-jokes. A type of self defence to spare his heart.

Hands in pocket, like it's no big deal. Words spilling out, trying to inject indifference into them. Back against the wall, peering over at you. 

Sunglasses firmly on, eyes shielded. Because he can't bear to be any more vulnerable than he has to right now. His words are barbed and prickly, but his feelings are completely bared.

.

.

Samuel offers his heart in between lofty promises and delusions of grandeur.

Words murmured against the back of your hand, breath ghosting over your skin. Eyes fixed on yours, fiery and almost challenging you to say no.

But a relentless phantom haunts him, one that he silences over and over again.

-That being by his side won't be enough, that offering you to be his queen is inadequate, lacking and there's so much more that you deserve.

Still, he promises you the world and is committed to giving you nothing less.

.

.

Trepidation lines Eli’s words. Like he can’t believe he’s here again. After everything that has happened, with everything on his plate.

He’s forced himself to make room for you, carved out a part of his life.

He confesses in a cramped dusty room in Hostel. Sat opposite one another on rickety uneven chairs, so close your knees are touching and there’s no personal space left. 

Body leaning forward, craving your touch and proximity as he rids the last remnants of hesitancy and takes a leap of faith.

.

.

Ryuhei tells you over and over again.

Until it becomes a daily mantra of sorts for him, and part of your day for you. At first as a joke, or at least you thought so. And then his earnestness snowballed until you could no longer ignore it.

He confesses, with the same sort of childish joy he always feels when he's with you. Tonight, his blood is thrumming in his vein and his pulse is beating in his ears.

With a hushed voice and hope in his eyes: he tells you once more.

[anachronismstellar]

SQH x Original Goods SQQ ;>

ooooooh wait, WAIT I have to think this one

Let's all pretend is not 4 am shhhh

I feel like OG SQQ would be attracted by SQH competence, like a game of cat and mouse or or OH WAIT I KNOW

------

The black and white pieces were carefully organized over the wooden board, the game paused as both peak lords took their time to consider the possible strategies. Shen Qingqiu had been the last one to make a move, capturing one of Shang Qinghua's stones, turning it between his fingers as he took the opportunity to observe the An Ding Peak Lord.

He didn't know how they ended up in this situation. If someone asked Shen Qingqiu when he had started observing Shang Qinghua, he had no exact answer. He knew it hadn’t been during their Head Disciple days, then Shang Qinghua had blended so completely against the wall of yellow robes that Shen Qingqiu could barely remember him during his missions. His best bet would be one of the first meetings as peak lords, Yue Qingyuan still trying to organize twelve egotistical cultivators as each of them tried to grab more missions and more resources for their own peak.

Hah, he would have more luck shoving twelve cats in a bag.

But then, the An Ding Peak Lord stood up, slamming a pile of papers so high it had been a miracle it didn’t fall all over their table.

"May I speak, Zhangmen-Shixiong?" Shang Qinghua had asked after a short but respectful bow, flipping his sleeves in a circular motion to wrap them around his arms in a graceful movement. The he proceeded to metaphorically and literally grab all of them by the scruff of their necks, organizing their speaking order, cutting their speeches short with a no nonsense "Thank you" every time they spoke beyond their scheduled time.

"We can stop here for today," Yue Qingyuan said with his brows slightly up, not able to hide his surprise when they finished things before dinner time. "Thank you, Shang-Shidi, for your help."

"Of course, Zhangmen-Shixiong," Shang Qinghua answered, but Shen Qingqiu could see his mind was already somewhere else, rushing to get to the door before anyone else.

Since then he couldn't help but keep an eye on yellow robes passing by, eager to hold the other for a conversation, to pick on his brain.

He blinked, coming back to his bamboo house by the soft sound of rustling silk and jade against wood as Shang Qinghua made his move, holding back a frown.

"Either play properly or leave," Shen Qingqiu said as he took another white stone from the board, putting it a bit too forcefully on his little pile on the table.

"Ah sorry, sorry, Shen-Shixiong, I'm having issues with a special ink shipment, and then Mu-shidi asked for a flower that I know he knows it only grows during winter and it's summer-"

"Stop blabling," he sighed as he looked up, glaring at his ceiling to pray to Heavens for patience. Last time he had lost his temper with Shang-shidi the man had vanished for weeks, leaving Shen Qingqiu without a decent Go player and a bad taste on his mouth. "I have no patience for your mental games today."

And as if by magic the man in front of him transformed, the suck up smile sliding from his face as Shang Qinghua straightened up his posture, the small man growing twice his size as broad shoulders filled his robes properly. "This one apologizes for testing Shen-Shixiong's patience," Then Shang Qinghua slowly twisted his head to the side, cracking his neck followed by a sigh. "I had to spend the morning dealing with Zhangmen-Shixiong, and you know how it is."

Shen Qingqiu let a bitter chuckle escape, sliding his fan open to hide half of his face, knowing full well how good his eyes looked over the painted paper.

"What? Sucking his dick isn't solving the problem?"

The effect was immediate. Shang Qinghua that had decided to take a sip of his tea almost chocked on it, gasping for air for a good minute, face so red one could think he had never written porn in his life.

Oh yes, Shen Qingqiu knew about his little stories too. Shang Qinghua wasn't the only one with spies all over the mountains.

"I- We- It's not-"

"Oh, spare me," Shen Qingqiu scoffed, lazily fanning himself, as he gave one last glance at the board, mourning their forgotten game. Shame, it was so difficult for them to meet up for a match. Of course Yue Qingyuan had to spoil even this for him. "You might be able to lie to those buffoons Wei Qingwei and Liu Qingge, but I have two perfectly functioning eyes. Also, there are so many late night meetings one must attend before it gets excessive."

It was good to see that red suited Shang Qinghua just as much as yellow. And Shen Qingqiu had to use all his will to not laugh as the other peak lord did his best to recompose himself, all in vain.

"My real question is... And I know I will regret the answer," Shen Qinggiu raised his hand to stop the new barrel of excuses so he could finish speaking. "How ih the all realms did that start. Did he offered you a holiday of some kind? Or maybe he wanted to thank you for dealing with Liu Qingge last stunt, Heavens knows you deserve a raise for that."

Again, Shen Qingqiu wasn't expecting a real answer. In fact, he wasn't expecting an answer at all, the way Shang Qinghua was blushing, the An Ding peak lord was about to faint or run away before Shen Qinggiu could snap his fan closed.

What he did get, however, was a muffled string of words, followed by a groan and a whine. Peharps he had hit the mark with one of his hypothesis? Now, things have gotten even more interesting.

"Speak plainly, Shidi, you know I can't stand mumbling."

"He complimented my hands!" Shang Qinghua squaked, his voice so high it had scared the poor birds on the garden.

There was a beat of silence as Shen Qingqiu waited for the rest of the explanation, barking a laugh when nothing came.

"That's it? Is it that easy to make you open your legs?"

"Oh shut up, Shixiong, you say that as if you wouldn't do it too!"

That, was crossing a line.

Shen Qingqiu never had to explain himself or his hatred for Yue Qingyuan to the other peak lord, it was if Shang Qinghua knew somehow that they shared a past. That was another thing that drove them together, the fact that Shang Qinghua was able to keep his mouth shut, even when he could use it for his own gain.

"Shixiong, I'm so sorry I-"

"Do tell," he interrupted what was for sure about to be an emotional moment for both of them, lips pressed thin in a frown, making sure to send his best murder glare to the man in front of him. "What compliment did our steemed Zhangmen-Shixiong could have used to conquer the slippery An Ding Peak Lord?"

He could see Shang Qinghua's brain working a way to escape the situation, his eyes darting left and right, checking all the exists of the small house. He could also see the moment Shang Qinghua had resigned himself to his fate, shrugging and waving his hands, buying himself time before answering:

"He said I had nimble fingers? And then I panicked and asked if he wanted to see how nimb they were or something, I don't remember and then, well, we, uh-"

"Well?"

"W-Well what?"

"How nimb they are?"

It finally clicked, Shang Qinghua's face going from embarassed to surprised, then interessed as he made a point of putting both hands on the table, slowly tapping his fingers on the top of it, the little tease.

"Would Shen-Shinxiong like to find out for himself?"

Shen Qingqiu felt his mouth drying as a shiver went up his spine. He wanted to scream at himself, to throw Shang Qinghua out of his house and hit him with the Go board on his way out, just out of spite.

On the other hand, he couldn't deny that Shang Qinghua was a handsome man when he put on some effort. Specially when he was commanding a room of peak lords, giving orders left and right, so sure of his information and knowledge that they had no other choice but follow.

How would that be...

"Follow me, Shidi," he got up in a measured movement, holding back his excitement as he guided them towards his room. Time to see if not only what those fingers could do, but also to put that smart mouth for better use than fumbling excuses.

And just as he had done many times before, Shang Qinghua surprised him once again, making Shen Qingqiu scare the birds with an entirely other type of screams.

------

This got,,,, Insanely long holy shit.

Also, it's kinda a continuation of the SQH/YQY ask?? dshiufhdsuifhui

I hope you liked!!! Thank you for the ask it was a blast to write it!!! :DDDD

[sherewrytes]

Plug Kento Nanami

Plug Nanami: Who shows up on time, every time, dressed like he’s on his way to a party or club instead of making a drop-off, with perfectly rolled joints and not a single hair out of place.

Plug Nanami: Who never raises his voice but somehow manages to make you feel like you owe him more than just payment with that low, smooth tone of his.

Plug Nanami: Who refuses to let you short yourself, sliding a little extra into your bag with a soft, "Consider it a bonus for being such a loyal customer."

Plug Nanami: Who texts you after every transaction with, "Everything to your satisfaction?" like he’s taking customer service to a whole new level.

Plug Nanami: Who only ever stays for a quick chat, but the way he adjusts his glasses and lets his eyes linger on you a moment too long makes your heart race.

Plug Nanami: Who once showed up in the middle of a rainstorm, soaking wet but completely unbothered, handing over your pre-rolls with a deadpan, "You’re lucky I prioritize good clients."

Plug Nanami: Who has this effortless dominance about him, the kind that makes you want to do things just to see him smirk in approval.

Plug Nanami: Who caught you once in your oversized sweats and bonnet and still said, "You look good," like it was a fact, not a compliment.

Plug Nanami: Who doesn’t miss a beat when you flirt with him, offering a small chuckle before responding, "Careful now. I don’t mix business with pleasure… unless you’re willing to change my mind."

Plug Nanami: Who makes it very clear he’s not just your plug but also someone who notices everything, including when you’re stressed or looking run-down. "You need to take care of yourself," he says softly, slipping your favorite chocolate bar into your hand without a word.

Plug Nanami: Who’s always clean-cut, rocking a crisp white tee or a fitted hoodie, gold chain resting against his chest, looking more like a businessman than someone pushing product—but you know better.

Plug Nanami: Who runs his drops like clockwork, his Hellcat pulling up smooth and quiet. He leans out the window with a calm, "You good? Don’t keep me waiting too long."

Plug Nanami: Who surprises you with how he speaks—smooth, deliberate, but with just enough edge to make you sit up and pay attention. "You know I don’t do half measures, ma. You get the best from me, every time."

Plug Nanami: Who doesn’t just drop off the bag—he stays a little longer, leaning against the doorframe with a calm confidence, arms crossed, giving you a look that says he knows exactly what’s on your mind.

Plug Nanami: Who doesn’t deal with nonsense, shutting down any funny business with a sharp, "Don’t play with my time." But with you? He’s always patient, his voice softening when he says, "Take your time. I’m in no rush."

Plug Nanami: Who tells you he doesn’t do freebies but somehow always slides you a little extra. "Just quality control," he smirks, though you know he’s lying.

Plug Nanami: Who keeps his stash on lock, never running out of the best strains, and every time you ask where he gets it, he just chuckles and says, "That’s my secret."

Plug Nanami: Who caught you once buying from someone else and didn’t say a word until his next drop-off. "Whatever they gave you? Trash. Stick with me, and I’ll make sure you’re never disappointed again."

Plug Nanami: Who shows up in his car, windows cracked, bass low, smelling like clean cologne and a faint hint of weed. He smirks when he catches you looking. "You like the vibe, huh? I can give you more than just this."

Plug Nanami: Who noticed you peeking at his tattoos one time and rolled up his sleeve just enough to show them off. "Curious, huh? Maybe one day I’ll let you trace them yourself."

Plug Nanami: Who, when you try to flirt too hard, chuckles low and deep, leaning closer to whisper, "You know you’re trouble, right? Keep talking like that, and I might start making house calls for more than just business."

Plug Nanami: Who, when you ask why he pushes product when he clearly doesn’t need to, just shrugs and says, "Sometimes the best things come from unexpected places," before giving you that look that leaves you questioning who’s really in control.

Plug Nanami: Who doesn’t react when you tease him about being too refined for this game. Instead, he steps closer, his voice dropping. "Don’t let my look fool you, baby. I know exactly what I’m doing—and I know you love it."

Plug Nanami: Who caught you at a party once, surrounded by people you didn’t know, looking out of place. He walked right up to you, slid his arm around your waist, and whispered, "You good? Or you need me to remind you where you belong?"

Plug Nanami: Who doesn’t hesitate to pull you aside when someone else tries to step to you, his tone cool but firm. "She’s with me. Don’t make me repeat myself."

Plug Nanami: Who, when you’re standing at the door in nothing but booty shorts and a cropped hoodie, doesn’t even try to hide the way his eyes sweep over you, his voice steady but rough. "You knew I was coming, and this is how you answer the door? You trying to start something, Y/N?"

Plug Nanami: Who stays calm when you playfully call him "Mr. Businessman," but steps closer, his broad shoulders towering over you as he murmurs, "Keep testing me, and I’ll show you just how serious I can be."

Plug Nanami: Who has this habit of brushing his fingers against yours when handing over your bag, just to see you react. And when you hesitate, he smirks. "What? You shy now? You weren’t shy last week when you were talking crazy to me."

Plug Nanami: Who, when you ask for recommendations, takes his time explaining the strains, his voice low and intimate like he’s telling you secrets no one else gets to hear. "This one’s for relaxing. But this one? This will have you feeling nice and warm. Could even help you sleep... if you’re alone."

Plug Nanami: Who doesn’t hide his jealousy when he spots you dancing with some random dude at the club again. He doesn’t make a scene—he doesn’t have to. One hard look from across the room, and he has you second-guessing every move.

Plug Nanami: Who waits for you by the bar, calm but commanding, sipping his drink like he owns the place. When you finally approach him, he leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. "Was that supposed to make me jealous? 'Cause all it did was remind me who you’re really coming home to."

Plug Nanami: Who doesn’t just say things to say them—when he tells you, "You’re mine," he says it with a quiet intensity that makes your heart race, his hand resting lightly on your waist like a promise.

Plug Nanami: Who doesn’t let you forget who’s in control. When you try to test him, he tilts his head, studying you with those sharp eyes before muttering, "Careful, Y/N. You don’t want to see what happens when I lose my patience."

Plug Nanami: Who, when he finally breaks that calm exterior, has you pinned against the couch, his hands firm on your thighs. His voice drops an octave as he says, "You think you can tease me and get away with it? Let me show you how wrong you are."

Plug Nanami: Who has you breathless by the time he’s done with you, his lips grazing your ear as he whispers, "Next time, don’t make me wait. You know I’m not good at sharing."

Plug Nanami: Who, even after all that, stays to clean up and roll another joint for you, his demeanor back to calm and collected as if nothing happened. He hands it to you with a small smirk. "Don’t say I never take care of you, ma."

Plug Nanami: Who always makes you feel special, even in the smallest ways—like when he leaves your place, pressing a kiss to your forehead before saying, "Stay out of trouble. I’ll be back when you need me."

Plug Nanami: Who, despite his smooth and professional vibe, lets his street-smart edge show when it matters. Like when he rolls up late at night after you text him about some dude getting too friendly at the bar. He leans against his car, arms crossed, his tone deadly calm. "You good? Or you need me to handle something?"

Plug Nanami: Who doesn’t flinch when you ask why he’s so quiet during his drops. Instead, he gives you a slow, knowing smirk. "Why talk when I can let my actions speak for me? You like what I bring, don’t you?"

Plug Nanami: Who, after spotting you dancing with another guy at the club when your out with your friends one night, waits for you outside like he’s completely unbothered. But the second you walk up to him; his voice is sharp. "Next time you feel like playing games, make sure I’m the one who gets to win."

Plug Nanami: Who, when you tease him for his clean-cut image, throws it right back. "Don’t get it twisted, Y/N. Just because I dress like this doesn’t mean I can’t get dirty when I need to."

Plug Nanami: Who finally snaps one night after you keep pushing his buttons, pinning you against the wall, his lips grazing your ear as he growls, "You like testing me, huh? Let me show you why that’s a bad idea."

Plug Nanami: Who keeps his car spotless, but when you ride with him, lets you kick off your shoes and play your music, saying, "Don’t get used to this. You’re lucky I like you."

Plug Nanami: Who always gives you the best quality, but one night, he surprises you with a strain he says is "special order." When you ask why he’s letting you try it first, he shrugs casually. "Because I know you appreciate the finer things. Just like me."

Plug Nanami: Who never loses his cool but lets his territorial side show in subtle ways. Like the way he casually slips his arm around your waist when you’re out, his grip firm enough to make anyone watching back off.

Plug Nanami: Who doesn’t just drop off weed—he becomes the only person you trust with your stash because everything he does is handled with precision. "You’re too good for anything less than perfect, Y/N," he says, his eyes locking onto yours in a way that makes you forget to breathe.

Plug Nanami: Who stays just long enough to remind you why he’s different. He doesn’t just pass the bag; he holds your gaze and leans in close, his voice low and deliberate. "Anything else you need tonight? You know I got you."

Plug Nanami: Who, after you’ve pushed him to his limit, leaves you breathless and spent, only to calmly adjust his hoodie and smirk down at you. "See? Told you not to test me."

Plug Nanami: Who, as he’s leaving, tosses a wrapped pre-roll on your table with a smirk. "That one’s on me. Thought you might need it after… all that.I'll be back later. I got another drop off"

[strangersteddierthings]

Steve, Gareth and Chrissy are cousins AU (sad edition) [prologue] [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Final Part]

The saving grace for Steve here is that all eyes are on Eddie, so no one witnesses how he freezes, just for a moment, when Eddie tells them who the 'she' is he's been referring to. How he just wanted to help her. Help Chrissy. Whatever Eddie has been saying has turned to buzzing, to white noise, to nonsense in the background of his mind.

He has to be wrong. Mistaking some other girl for Chrissy. Because it can't be Chrissy. It can't. Steve has worked so hard to keep his family away from the Upside Down shit. She couldn't be- there's no way she somehow got caught up in it. There's too many questions and not enough answers and when did the air get too thick to fit in his lungs?

Does Gareth know?

Gareth, who Steve knows is one of Eddie's friends and here Eddie sits before him, a witness to Upside Down shit. A witness to a murder they have no clue how to solve. Gareth, who isn't exactly friends with Mike, Dustin, and Lucas, but who is in the same club as them and on friendly terms. That's too many people connected to the Upside Down in Gareth's personal circle for Steve to be okay with.

He thought this was done. That they wouldn't ever have to deal with this shit again.

Eddie is still talking as the pounding in Steve's ears fades and he listens as Eddie swears, he just wanted to help, that she seemed so freaked out by something, and Steve's insides twist and churn. Why hadn't Chrissy come to him? Just last week he was at her house, hanging out and catching up. She never mentioned an issue. A problem. Something that would cause her to seek out heavier drugs than weed.

They used to tell each other everything. What changed?

His stomach drops as the answer comes to him.

He did.

He'd changed. He started keeping secrets first. Pushed Chrissy and Gareth away after that first incident and hadn't really started to let them back in until after Starcourt. He'd just wanted to keep them safe. Keep them as far away from this horror as possible. He'd ended the weekend sleepovers because of his nightmares, stopped inviting them over to hang out by the pool because he can't look at it without thinking about Barb, started avoiding them at school when he'd ended up beat to shit by Billy because he knew they'd dig for more answers than he could give.

No wonder Chrissy didn't tell him anything was wrong.

There's no way for Steve to know if he could have helped or not, even if Chrissy had talked to him. Eddie doesn't have answers; just a story.

Steve hates him a little bit. It's irrational. Eddie didn't do this Chrissy, (even if he had been arguing that point at Family Video) but it doesn't stop the anger inside him from boiling up. He doesn't act on it, of course he doesn't, he's not that person anymore.

Plus, acting on it would kind of negate everything Dustin just convinced Eddie of, such as he's not crazy and they do believe him, and Steve's not about to undo what Dustin's accomplished by taking Eddie by the vest and shoving him against the wall in a reverse of earlier. It wouldn't do any good, not now that they're all sure it's a new, unknown threat from the Upside Down that they'll have to figure out on their own.

No. Taking his anger out on Eddie won't solve anything.

He can be mad about this later.

It does sit heavy on him, though, that he doesn't think anyone in this boathouse knows Chrissy was his cousin. That the Upside Down has taken someone from Steve this time. He can't tell them. Robin wouldn't take it well, and Dustin might not either. They'll be sad for him, and he can't handle that right now.

He can mourn later.

-

Remember the fun lil fic of Gareth not wanting his cousins, Chrissy Cunningham and Steve Harrington, to ruin his street cred in high school? Well, the fun is done. Have some angst. More parts will follow but it's not really a fic? Just... disjointed scenes, rewritten from canon to fit the cousin AU.

[liliaeth]

I was just thinking about something that keeps returning in fandom...

People acting as if Scott somehow thinks in black and white, while Stiles to them thinks in shades of grey, which they translate to 'is willing to kill'. And it's just such absolute nonsense.

A big part of the issue here that I've noticed, is something fandom often loves to ignore. Namely that from s1 on, Scott was most often the one being attacked, the one forced to deal with life or death choices. While Stiles, still got to keep seeing death as something abstract, something that happened, but wasn't a decision that he personally had to make. Stiles wasn't forced to resist the urge to kill, he didn't have some force in his head try to make him kill people, and in the early seasons, he was a foil for Scott. Someone who didn't have to face the choice between life and death. For Stiles that responsibility did not come until s3b.

Scott didn't have that privilege. Even as early on as s1, when Peter tried to control him, he was forced to feel what it would be like to maul and possibly kill someone he cared about. It might have been just a dream, but all too soon he had to find out it was a dream based on reality. the reality where Peter tried to make him kill someone. And it took all of Scott's will power to resist doing so.

And then not long after, Peter forced Scott's darkest instincts to come up, making him actually want to kill his friends. A experience that clearly horrified Scott. Because he'd already had that feeling in the first two episodes of the show, where his instincts made him go after Stiles, his best friend.

So when Peter sent Derek after Jackson, for Scott, that wasn't some abstract notion, it was reality.

It wasn't just people trying to kill him, and the fear of that, but the fear that he himself might kill others. Which is why in s5 to him, the worst thing to happen to Liam would be for him to have to live with having killed Scott. Not for Scott's sake, but for Liam's...

For Scott, killing isn't some black and white bullshit, it's real, it's a way of ending any and all other possibilities for a person.

When Scott refuses to kill, it's not because he believes in black and white, or good and evil, it's because he doesn't.

Because he knows that just because someone is an asshole, or does bad things, that doesn't mean they're evil, that doesn't mean they deserve to die. Because he believes in shades of grey. because Killing and Death are not just funny abstract threats, or exaggerations, it's something real, and it's not a decision that should be taken lightly.

Stiles can argue for killing, since he's never expected to be the one to do the deed. He can ask Scott to "consider letting [Derek] die," or to "kill Jackson, problem solved," because he's not the one who has to bear the responsibility.

Now admittedly, it's not that Stiles had no idea of how dark things really were, not after the end of s1. he'd seen dead people, Lydia’s mauled body made it more than real. His willingness to consider killing was more from powerlessness…he didn’t see many options to stop the killers without killing them. After all, in S1 his first instinct was to have Derek arrested and it didn’t work, so he suggests murder and killing, but still never has to actually make the choice to commit the killing himself

Not until s3b, and even then Stiles choice was 'lock himself up' or let the Nogitsune kill. The same choice Scott already had to make in s1.

Fandom likes to pretend Stiles could easily kill the bad guys, when the reality of the show is that when Stiles did accidentally kill, in s5, it devastated him. Because just like Scott, he came to realize that killing is final, killing is destructive, and doing so should never be a first solution.

Both Scott and Stiles had to make these choices, both of them came to the same conclusion, and that's something fandom loves trying to ignore.

[taesansbeloved]

Calm Amidst Chaos.

| Myung Jaehyun X Reader

| Genre: established relationship.

| warnings: use of pet names, a clingy jaehyun :(

| Word count: 987

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Today was pure shit. For starters, you missed your alarm leading to getting scolded by your boss. Then, you got blazing hot coffee on your new white button up. THEN, a customer kept arguing with you saying that the deal wasn't all that good and just being a pure Karen.

It was one of those days. The days where you wanted to just go home and spend all day with your loving boyfriend, Jaehyun.

Did I mention that it was the first day Jaehyun was free from work since forever.

Working as an Idol wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. It was tiring, and exhausting. Also, being the leader just adds on the stress, so this was the only day he had, free from responsibility. But to his luck, his girlfriend happens to have work that day.

Your manager decided that you should spend more time in the office as you arrived late, so as everyone went home and relaxed, you were still stuck in your tiny little office. As soon as he gave you the sign to go home, you started packing your things rapidly, eager to go home.

As soon as you enter your car, you get a call from your one and only.

“Hey, baby.” You say softly, knowing he's probably tired and sad that you're away.

“Hey, love. When are you coming back?” He asks sadly, stifling a yawn. As soon as he said that, your heart started to ache. You knew that all he wanted to do was cuddle and talk nonsense to each other. Your boss is to blame for not doing all that.

“I'm in my car right now. Give me exactly ten minutes.” You say, starting your car. You can hear shuffling on the other side. “Hey, Jaehyun. I'm really sorry. I really didn't mean to stay over time and I promise I'll make it up to you.” You said, leaning on your seat, feeling pure guilt.

Jaehyun is the definition of a clingy boyfriend. Just giving him a hug and it will send him to the moon. You just know right now that he's aching for your touch and that just made you feel even worse.

“Baby, please don't apologise. I now know how you feel when I'm away so we're basically equal now.” Jaehyun said with a light chuckle. You know that he was trying to make you feel better by joking but it made you feel BAD. “You shouldn't be on your phone while driving, love. I'll hang up now and I'm very patiently waiting for you to come home. I love you.” He said. You can just feel his energy on the phone. God, you loved him.

“I love you too.” You say quietly as you hung up and began your journey home.

__

Slowly inserting the key, you open the door quietly and peek inside. The lights were on but the TV was off.

You stepped inside as a frown appeared on your face. ‘Where is he?’ You wondered as you closed the door behind you.

As soon as the door closed, you heard footsteps ascending from the stairs and a fluffy haired Jaehyun coming into view.

Running towards you, he engulfed you in the tightest hug.

Snuggling his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent that he dearly missed.

Without speaking you wrap your arms around him, pulling him even deeper into your embrace. You thread your fingers through his hair as a quiet sigh leaves his mouth.

“I missed you.” Jaehyun said, voice muffled against your neck tickling you a bit.

“I missed you even more.” You whispered back as you gently rubbed his back.

You felt as if all the worries and all the bad things that happened today began to fade from the mere touch of Jaehyun. Feeling his calm breath pattern on your neck brings you even more solace.

“Come on.” You said after embracing each other for more than normal in front of the front door.

Jaehyun whined as he shook his head in the crook of your neck. “No.” He mumbled.

“Baby, I'm still in my work clothes.” You say with a chuckle. Jaehyun whined more but let go of you.

You pull Jaehyun with you upstairs to your shared bedroom.

“Stay here.” You say softly as Jaehyun layed down on his side of the bed and nodded.

You quickly change out of your work clothes and put on some comfy pyjamas before washing up as fast as possible.

Before you can even touch the bed, you feel yourself being pulled into a warm embrace. Jaehyun dug his nose into your hair, smelling your shampoo.

You chuckle as you rest your head on his chest.

“Tell me about your day.” Jaehyun said softly, running his hand through your hair.

“Well, it was terrible. Everything went wrong. And this stupid customer just kept arguing with me about a deal I very much did not have a say in. Ugh, and my manager. God, I hope both sides of his pillow are warm.” You say, rolling your eyes slightly at the mention of your manager.

Jaehyun chuckled as he pulled you deeper into his embrace. “Well, good thing you're here now. Do you have any work tomorrow?” He whispered gently.

“I have some paperwork that needs to be done, but other than that no. Do you?” You asked, wishing to hear a ‘no’.

“...No.” Jaehyun said making your head shoot up.

“For real?!” You exclaimed, propping yourself on your elbow.

He nodded as a soft smile made its way to his face.

You quickly get on top of him, strangling him in a tight hug. He hugged you back immediately and rubbed your waist in content.

“I love you.” You whispered in his ear, making his smile widen.

“I love you more, darling.” He said back.

You were his world, and he was your calm amidst your chaos.

__________

Guys.... I love you. My first post got so much love and I really wanna thank yall!! I hope you enjoyed this babes!

[sevenop]

Billie Eilish x Fem!reader: But now I'm underwater

A/n: Because of tight deadlines at work, you're stressed out, critically sleep deprived and overly addicted to coffee. Billie suggests that you distract yourself by watching a horror film, and you agree good-naturedly, unable to refuse her. What you haven't considered is the fact that stress, coffee and imagination are a potent mix. Billie finds an ingenious way to calm you down and unload the thoughts from your head.

Inspired by "WHEN I WAS OLDER".

The coffee, to put it as honestly as possible, makes you sick and nauseous to the point of godlessness, but you bring your lips to the ceramic edge of the beige mug once again, gulping down this dark concoction, drenched in milk for salvation. Over the past three days, it's become frankly unclear what your goals are: to finish the unfortunate paperwork, where the stack of documents resembles the world-famous Tower of Pisa? Or to completely eradicate the countless red blood cells in your body by forcing your heart to pump not blood but tart caffeine through your arteries? Too complicated a question to answer honestly, especially considering the almost three days where you slept a maximum of four hours at most, if not less.

You rest your elbows on the surface of the desk, buried in a makeshift fan of papers, and put your palms against your weary face, as if hiding from the letters. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out... You try not to go crazy in this stream of meaningless bureaucracy, and the phone under the pile of papers so treacherously pinging and you instantly want to start sobbing. Is it really again this annoying bosses?.. With your hands as if you were wiping off the accumulated fatigue from your face, getting out from under the saving "curtain" of your own fingers, but it's a sincere self-deception: the circles under your eyes as blue, and continue to blue, approaching the shade of indigo, and your fingers shake a little when you fish the phone out of the snow-white ocean of ink letters. A relaxed exhale rolls through the office and you allow yourself a slight smile, the very corner of your lips. It's just Billie. Although, considering that she's lowered your anxiety level with just one message, it's silly to use such a crude phrase as "just" in reference to her. Except you've been a little tight lately under the weight of circumstances, so you're forgiven.

"Hey."

Just like that, in three letters and without much meaning. You snort with a chuckle, interlocking the bridge of your nose with your fingers. The best you can come up with is to mirror her own message:

"Hey."

The dots under her avatar bounce around, revealing a response so fast that you don't even have time to think about blissfully covering your work-weary eyes for a moment.

"Oh, you haven't died over that nonsense yet, my workaholic."

"I swear I'd slap you a couple times if you were here, Eilish..."

Three dots bounce harmlessly, and with the appearance of a gray text border, hit you squarely in the solar plexus:

"I hope you'll slap my ass, Mommy? :)"

You are confused in words and thoughts that replace each other in your head with the third cosmic speed. You squint hard to stare stupidly at the display. Have I mentioned yet that your relationship with Billie is a highly ambiguous thing? No? Well, don't be surprised that you often have to deftly balance on the sharp edge of under-friendship and under-relationship as a couple. It's all too confusing, and you two just don't have time to deal with it: Eilish is flying to the other side of the world, or you're swamped with paperwork and frequent business trips. But with all this chaos you feel a strange comfort, that's why you don't hurry to change something, even if your heart beats much faster in the presence of her, it's don't care. Why touch something that already works, albeit with a kind of "crutch"?

"Yes, exclusively the your delightful ass. So sorry you're not here, such a moment gone."

Underneath the blue frame of your message, little gray letters and one thin check mark instantly pop up: 'read'. Billie's status changes to offline, but the phone in the palm of your hand immediately announces itself by ringing loudly. The screen offers two buttons as standard and snidely glares with letters and a pink emoji: "talented runt🩷". Okay, this is something you really didn't expect. You squeeze the green icon and your heart is already doing backflips right in your sternum, hitting your trachea just as you take a breath and lick your momentarily parched lips.

"Come out, dumbass, I'm waiting." - Eilish shoots out the words confidently, with a smirk audible even on the wire.

"What do you mean?" - you get up from your chair instantly, either feeling some sudden surge of long-abandoned strength or obeying her words unknowingly. You walk over to the window, and with both hands clasping the phone between your ear and shoulder, you wrap both hands around the rope hanging from the side of the blinds. The wide, vertical strips of lamellae rustle to become sideways, revealing a view of your front patio, and you ooze in surprise. - "Are you serious?.."

"That's the only way with you," - you see Billie leave the cabin, palm running her hand over the dark side of her Dodge, warmed by the verdant sun. - "I'm taking you to my place for a few days, no refusals are accepted."

"Why so royal, O'Connell?" - Sticking your gaze to the window, you frown, running your palm through your hair and ruffling it. - "What are you, my asshole boss?"

"With the way you're about to die at that fucking desk of yours if you don't have at least one distraction a night." - Eilish gales of giggles into the tube and turns around on the heels exactly to the window from which you stare at her, a word from the watchtower. She waves her hand at you, catching your stare and you can't contain the smile that blossoms on your face. - "And I'm deeply offended that you're comparing me to that old turd, know that!"

"And how do I make it up to you?" - you squint slyly, and Billie tsks so theatrically that it looks like some kind of acting sin.

"Going to see a horror movie with me right now, naturally."

"I'll be fired if I don't turn in my report today, Eilish." - you sigh heavily, turning your head toward your desk: the paper tower is momentarily overtaken by a wave of doom hidden in your gaze.

"It's high time you got the fuck out of there, and we both know it." - the voice from the phone has a seductively truthful huskiness and wind noise. - "And I just... I genuinely hate it when you're not appreciated, Y/n."

You sigh again, it seemingly heavier by another seventy and a half ounces than before, shifting your gaze back and forth to the ginormous stack, then to the window. A silence hangs on the wire and neither of you two are in a hurry to break it, only the occasional breeze walking down the street. A new deep breath makes the tired gears in your head finally stop, giving birth to the long awaited answer.

"Give me a couple minutes, I'll put on some decent clothes."

"I don't mind if you come out completely naked to me." - The huskiness in her voice immediately became more draughty, like the sweetest and most desirable molasses.

"Shut up, O'Connell," - you jump with a laugh without malice, covering your eyes with your hand and your newly leaping heart with a silly joke. With Eilish, sometimes it's just impossible. In every sense of the word.

×××

The shark cuts through the murky ocean surface with its sharp fin as easily and effortlessly as a sharp pair of scissors cuts through paper. Because of its nimbleness, you can't tell at once that it is a multi-pound killing machine created by the most peace-loving Mother Nature. The guy on the screen staggers away from the edge of the shoreline, landing with a thud on the loose sand on his ass covered in red pants. He crawls farther and farther away from the water, his feet digging into the sand, and the shark snaps its two rows of sharp teeth several times, not so much to get the poor guy as to laugh at him. You cover your eyes for a second, thinking about the fact that the shark is still too big even for the category of a giant, and then you are immediately and imperceptibly pulled into the darkness of the stubborn waves of sleep. Waves... Just like on a big TV screen: dark blue, in their foamy restlessness.

"Well, that's just downright idiotic, isn't it?" - Eilish chuckles softly, mingling annoyance with irony, and you open your eyes lazily, once again slipping back into tired reality. Lying on her soft thighs with your head overdone is lulling. - "Why don't you just wait for the rescuers?"

"Because it's a second-rate movie, Eilish," - you cover your lips with the palm of your hand, nimbly catching a bursting yawn. - "And in mainstream movies like this, the characters are, properly, genre stupid."

"I was betting on high internet ratings." - Billie mutters resentfully, swinging both arms out to the sides in a way so amusing that you chuckle quietly. Your eyes inadvertently cling to the line of her jaw so perfect in its perfection, sliding down her neck and next - her collarbones mostly exposed because of her tank top. Shit...

"A collapse of hope?" - Your voice is uncharacteristically husky, causing Billie to tilt her head down, leisurely examining every feature of your face. Blue irises immediately draw in the blue light from the TV, hypnotizing you into darkness. It seems that another minute of this gaze and you will drown. In her seas, however, it's only honor and out-of-this-world joy.

"You're sleepy, hey," - Eilish smiles that warm, motherly tinged smile and strokes your cheekbone with her thumb. You give in closer, almost falling apart in a purring sound like a petted cat, but you immediately pull yourself back. It seems unnecessary. Billie seems to have read you by your body language, because the calm blue of her eyes is broken by a prehensile whitish light of excitement. - "Relax, I'm all for it."

You smile softly, inhaling, and Billie looks with a mute question directly at you, stopping the rhythmic stroking. You squint slyly, mirroring her same line, only now live:

"Relax, I'm all for it..."

You cover your eyes again, blissfully letting go of your inner handrail of total control and anxiety. Should you grasp it so tightly when you two are happy with everything right now? Absolutely not. Eilish, who had previously been exploring your face with her gaze, now traces your features with her fingers, as if reading you like a kind of Braille script. The tips of her fingers feel so weightless, so pleasantly warm.

"Why didn't you tell me you wanted to sleep?" - her fingers touch the thin skin beneath your eyes, and you snort to yourself barely audible: her fingertips 'waltzing' on your blueness, mentally estimating how many mugs of coffee are now inside you. Oh, you don't even doubt it. - "Four?"

"Five." - you challenge her guess, receiving a sensual poke in the shoulder. - "The mug was always half milk, don't get mad."

"Knock it off, dumbass." - she touches your cheeks with her palms and you open your eyes, feeling the dreamy velvet of her skin. - "Your heart's going to pop out."

"Afraid someone will pick it up faster than you, Eilish?"

Billie is silent at first, flashing her eyes somehow unreadable to you, and then also smirking with that cheeky stroke of hers, smearing over any perception of her true emotions, but it doesn't all feel cloying, just hidden beneath a thin smoky veil.

"I don't like to lose my treasures, you know that."

"So I won't get lost." - you gently catch her wrist, entwining your fingers in a unique mutual symmetry, and Eilish leans a little lower and her well-groomed dark hair falls down over her face, hiding you both. - "And... I didn't tell you because I really enjoy spending time with you, even when I look more like the semblance of a walking corpse."

Also because I'm slowly falling in love with you, but I can't admit it.

"Stupid, I love you, you know?" - a white twinkle flickers again in the water's surface, reminiscent of the light of a saving beacon in the midst of a silent abyss. It seems to you that Billie leans even a little closer, even though in the semi-darkness it can really be written off as a work-weary mind. - "Go to sleep, I can't watch you torture yourself for me."

"Not until after the lullaby, Mom," - you twist your voice deliberately, making it sound childish and quiet. You rest your head comfortably on her delightful hips and stare expectantly, caressed by the intimacy of her gaze and strands of soft hair: like a single boat in a vast ocean, guarded reverently by sea nymphs and noisy sea foam, you are hidden in the darkness of a starless night from everyone and everything. - "Please."

Billie only smiles and takes the first note quietly, stroking your head leisurely and lovingly.

"Hmm..."

×××

"I'm on my back again."

You slam your shoulder blades into the boardwalk of the flimsy raft, and you really don't know if it's the cracking of the tall strips of wood or your own weary bones. You squint hard, echoing the hissing of the waves, and they immediately pelt you from head to toe, tearing you down and showering you with dead, salty cold. Your clothes, soaked to the skin, have long ago stuck to your body like a second skin, giving you no chance of even one fahrenheit of warmth, but only echoing the angry, howling owl-like wind and the ravenous, dark murk of the ocean water. You surface, it seems, for the seventh time, and with trembling hands you grasp again the edge of the raft, like a poor priest in exile for the Bible: desperately, with the last grains of faith falling through your fingers.

"Dreaming of a time and place, where you and I remain the best of friends. Even after all this ends..."

The waves are raging, whipping at your eyes fiercely, wanting to blind you and to penetrate your throat with their scalding drops. You are paddling with your legs with all your might, struggling, pulling yourself up on your weakened arms, and still nothing comes out. A new clap and you're off completely, the merciless waves press you with their thickness, drowning you. You twitch, wanting to dive out, and with your hands and feet you push the dark sea maelstrom away, but something seems to pull you to the deepest bottom, closing around your waist.

"Can we pretend?" - her voice, melded with the sound of the water, fills your ears and for a second you feel the warmth and softness of her palm, which grips you lifesavingly, closing your fingers gently. Your lungs burn from the lack of oxygen and you scream silently, releasing bubbles glistening under the faint rays into the blue darkness: you want to just drown, die and to stop this exhausting uraboros forever. But not with her.

"I'm on my, I'm on my back again."

A new pop shoots into the air as you touch your back to the raft again with force, as if falling from somewhere in the frowning, impenetrable black cloud-covered sky. A ragged exhalation leaves your sea-worn body, making your lungs rattle and tear streaks run down your pale, thin skin. With each such fall, you become more and more like a ghost. And you hear her more and more clearly.

"It's seeming more and more like all we ever do is see how far it bends," - your cold-blue lips move, releasing a white cloud of vapor into the aspic space of the sky, the only thing still warm here besides Eilish's palms. - "Before it breaks in half and then..."

"We bend it back again," - her whisper rustles in the storm as the sea picks up your raft like a feather. Her whisper is the only thing keeping you here. - "You'd really like it in the limelight, you'd sympathize with all the bad guys?"

"I'm still a victim in my own right," - you grin with a grin at the menacing clouds, and hungry water crawls onto your murdered raft, heralding a new upheaval. Intuition alarms the back of your head, telling you it could be fatal. - "But I'm the villain in my own eyes, yeah."

Clap! And you're underwater again, staring helplessly at your ungodly pale palms, stretched upward by the pressure of the water, to its very surface. Eilish is no longer whispering, and you see no point in fighting, accepting your own bitter lot that you have been hiding. No, not from her. From yourself.

"I love you, Eilish," - your lips are ajar, releasing small bubbles as your lungs slowly fill with water, burning through your ribs from lack. You stare after the bubbles, watching mortally as they float upwards and then burst. It's the only thing you have left. Now you slam your back against the side again and everything will be started again.... But only this time an incomprehensible dark spot is coming towards you like a torpedo from a submarine, cutting through the infinity of space around you with its powerful body. You catch the glint of sharp teeth bared in two aligned rows and forcefully push the oxygen out of your chest, shaking the abyss in a scream that finally sounds.

×××

"Shark!" - You jump up startled from the couch, spinning the soft plaid over you in an awkward whirlwind. Your heel steps on the very edge of the fabric and you fall thunderously to the floor, driving your back on the gray armrest of the sofa, causing a lump of deja vu to stick in your throat, preventing you from breathing properly. It's almost like being on that damn raft. You hear something in the hallway quickly tsk in your direction and just stare, shivering in the imaginary cold. Have you lost your mind already?

A gray pit bull snorts, appearing in the doorway, expressing concern. His blue eyes stare at you unblinkingly before he runs up to you and sits his full weight on your legs. The dog whines, licking you on the line of your chin, his muzzle pulling higher and higher as if It's like he feels and wants to figure out what you're scared of. Just like his mistress. It's just Shark's goody-goody in front of you, which means it was just a dream. You take your first steady, almost relaxed breath.

"Thanks, buddy." - you gently stroke Shark's stately muzzle, to which he squints his eyes contentedly, snuggling closer and you feel warm. - "Don't worry, just a mine bad dream."

A new stomp disrupts your little idyll, making look into the doorway with not one, but two pairs of eyes anymore. You both know who it is, but you stare mesmerized anyway, until the inky head and piercing ocean blue of the gaze emerge from the darkness.

"Hey, are you okay?" - Billie crosses the space of the room so quickly, ending up next to you, that you have to blink in disbelief. She sits down next to you, leaning side by side, and burrows her fingers into the short gray fur on Shark's sturdy side, scratching. The pit bull grunts, summarizing contentment with the whole situation. - "I heard a shriek, and then this little brat ran toward you. Bad dream?"

"There is such a thing." - you smile, feeling the warmth around you crawl almost into your very heart, nesting there as a brightly colored bird. - "I guess you could say I dreamt about you."

"You gonna tell me?" - Billie spreads her legs a little to the side, bumping her knee against yours unobtrusively, but you sense something in that small movement, as you do in her attentive gaze.

You draw in a breath to start arranging your words properly in the air, and Eilish immediately puts her index finger to your lips.

"Wait, I have a weird idea." - her warm chuckle purrs pleasantly in the semi-darkness before drowning out in the rustle of clothes as Billie rises to her feet, giving you a hand. - "Take the plaid and come with me, please."

And now you are here - sitting together in the cabin of her car, wrapped in a home-made plaid, and through the open door looking at the quietly splashing ocean of a deserted night beach, while she embraces you from behind securely, firmly. Shark scurries along the sandy edge of the shore, trying to bite the playful sea foam with his teeth, but immediately sticks out his tongue in frustration: it's too salty. You chuckle as Billie remains philosophically silent, digesting your story. Indeed, she was right: the view of the calm seascape is soothing, even with your nightmare fresh in your mind. What can I say, Billie's embrace is the perfect lifeline.

"So... How did the sensation of my presence make you feel?" - her hot fingers nervously rub the edge of your voluminous T-shirt as if waiting for a command or a starting shot. - "Were you afraid of the sea?"

"I wanted to fight to the end, as long as I could hear you," - you smile, watching Shark stride toward you, awkwardly shaking her hind paws off the wet sand. - "Even though the sea was insanely cold."

You cover her palms with yours, deftly ducking under the hem of your t-shirt with her, deliberately slow, giving her a chance to pull back if she wants to. The skin-to-skin contract makes you both flinch (you can literally feel Eilish's anxiety in your backs), but Billie pauses for a second, then rises a little higher, reaching her palms to the center of your waist. Her palms, devoid of any of the silver bands of the rings now feel especially trembling, hot. You are both defenseless against each other.

"But why?" - Her husky voice excitement, tickles touching the curl of your ear.

"I just... realized something back there in the dream," - The dog flops to your feet, spinning playfully in the sand and you parenthetically groan. - "While I was underwater."

Eilish so deftly turns you around to face her, ignoring the height difference, and palms your face. In the white light of the salon, her blue eyes sparkle with intense blue luminescence, dissected by a white light of hope. Everything confusing instantly becomes so clear and readable when she finally allows you to peer into her soul straight through her captivating oceanic abysses.

"Nobody lonely like I'm lonely and I don't know whether," - the thumb of her right hand gently strokes the very corner of your lips as she clings to your soul with her eyes, as if afraid to let herself off the hook of her own conjecture into the wading cold waters of despair. - "But really, why? Tell me the truth."

"I could drown, but now I'm under the water of only your stupid and unforgettable beautiful eyes, Eilish. It's simply impossible to drown twice." - you hide your hands behind your back in embarrassment, but you don't take your eyes off her an inch. - "And I love you, it's just that simple."

Billie stares at you in silence, and then in one movement she touches your cold lips with her heated ones so leisurely and tastefully that you cover your eyes in pleasure, realizing that she is smiling right in the middle of a kiss. Her hands, having been on your cheeks all this time, slide slowly back to your waist, stroking your shoulders with pressure and very lightly, as if in counterbalance, your breasts. She bites your lip, asking for more and dropping a lot "I love you" with an excited gasp, like a precious sea pearl.

"Please let me be your personal sea for life, my brave sailor."

And you only manage to nod in agreement, tearing breaths before she pulls you into another kiss, knocking your pulse racing. Just like the sea. Your own private sea.

[descendantsramblings]

Hello! Could I request a story about descendants 3 Hades x fem!reader? Preferably if the reader is hurt physically, and a hurt/comfort main theme? Thank you💕

Honestly, D3 Hades is so likable to me, I love Hades. I really wished D4 had used him more (or even that D3 had used him more. He's so interesting and at least in D4 he feels sorta dumbed down to just "dude in leather jacket" which is lame)

Let Me See

Hades x Villain Reader

Pronouns Used: she/her/hers

Summary: Her need to be independent keeps leading Hades' wife to getting in fights, she really got herself into it this time

Warnings: Injury and blood, Reader and Uliana have unexplained issues with each other, crying, hurt/comfort nonsense except they argue as a form of affection, Death mention, pet names as insults + insults as pet names, minor swearing

Word Count: 2.2K

    (Y/n) and Uliana never got along well in high school. It didn’t take a genius to know that Uliana only let her stick around back then because of Hades. The sea witch would never willingly let a god- especially the god of the underworld- slip out of her grip over something as petty as disliking some girl. She was better than that, smarter than that. So despite the obvious tension between them as teens, the girls were always around each other. And you hear the stories of kids who didn’t get along in high school that find their way into a fond friendship in their adult years, but those two would never be that. She understood that now. Stories like that came from changed levels of maturity, something that didn’t always come to those on the Isle. From the blood dripping from her nose and arm to the welts in the shape of suction cups on her cheek, (Y/n) had learned that maturity had not come to Uliana. Why had she even gone over there? She should have known the weaker sea witch would still be doing foolish things to even seem partially as nasty as her older sister. Especially now that Hook had sold his precious Jolly Roger to her niece; anyone knew that Uli would’ve seen that as a form of betrayal. It was like the last ties of high school affections had finally been cut, nothing to protect her from the compensating aggression of Uliana now. 

    As she quietly makes her way into the lair, holding her breath in hopes of Hades being asleep. She didn’t want to deal with whatever “I told you so” statements the man would have if he saw the state she was in. He told her not to go see the sea witch, “nothing good can come from visiting a girl who hated you in highschool”. She hated that he was right, he was always right. It was exhausting, she just wanted to prove him wrong once. She makes her way to the bathroom, nearly making it without incident. Of course though, it was only nearly, Zeus must have cursed her luck when they sent her to this god forsaken island. The cut on her arm gets caught on the ragged edge of the door’s strike plate, eliciting a loud string of swears to fly from her mouth as the skin of her arm gets tugged to the side. Her hand flies to her mouth, the motion hitting her swelling cheek and already injured nose, tears welling in her eyes. She was not winning today, with Uliana or herself it seems. 

    If the loud swearing didn’t already have Hades on his feet, the strangled sob that followed it would have; the god flying from his recliner to the source of the noise as if his life depended on it. When he rounds the corner his eyes lock on (Y/n), taking in her hunched over posture. His wife is white knuckling the counter, staring down at the stained bowl of the sink while her shoulders shake with what he’s almost positive are silent sobs. It takes everything in him to be quiet, waiting to gauge how she was planning to react. He slinks into the bathroom, closing the door and leaning on it. His arms cross over his chest, knee bending to prop his leg up against the hollow wood as he stands there, watching, waiting. She’d noticed him, Hades knew she did. Shoulders stilling with a shaky breath as she reaches up to wipe her eyes, the motion making her let out a pained whimper. 

   “Give me your worst,” despite mumbling it she knows that he hears her. “You think you can handle the worst of two real villains back to back, Princess?” Hades doesn’t need to see her face to know she’s rolling her eyes, some part of him can just feel it. The idea makes him smile softly, eyes casting up and down her body. “Uliana is not a real villain, don’t stroke her fragile little ego like that. She’s just a brat with anger issues. That’s all she’s ever been.” He chuckles, using his leg to push himself off the wall and over to her, hands finding their foundation on her shoulders. “You know, that’s tough talk coming from you, Princess. Maybe that’s how she got you in this little situation.” He presses a kiss to the back of her head, waiting for her to look up to him so he can kiss her properly. Hades knew better than to rush the woman though, she would surely reject the touch if it wasn’t her decision. She hated being told what to do in any sense, even if it was just him tilting her head towards him. Everything she did had to come from her own ideas. If pressed, he’d admit it was part of the reason he fell for her. In a vague attempt at sounding put together she lets out a cheap scoff, “I’m not crying over some sea witch, I just ended my affair, idiot.” It’s followed by a broken laugh, and though she doesn’t look up to him, she leans further into his touch. “Oh yeah? Who was my unlucky competition? Gaston? Hook? Jafar perhaps? Oh I know, that little snake finally got his hands on you, he wanted you so bad in school.” He’s laughing, rubbing his hands up and down her arms as speaks, the tone far too light for her to think he took her joke as anything but. “Maleficent, obviously. It was always her,” she mumbles, hissing as his hand unknowingly brushes the cut on her forearm. The man snatches his hand away from her, looking down to see the slick blood covering his fingers. The bubbling joke he had about how they had the same taste dies as he sees it. Who did Uliana think she was? If she thought she could hurt his woman like that she had another thing coming. 

     “What did she do to you?” There’s a fire behind it and his wife knows that if the barrier didn’t prevent it his head would be bursting into vibrant flames. She tries not to think about how much she misses the sight of it. “Nothing big, I can handle it. I just need the first aid kit, and some ice. You think you could go get me something cold?” He hums, pressing a kiss to one of her shoulders, “I’ll be right back with it. I moved the first aid kit to the bottom drawer.” She nods, leaning down to open the drawer once she hears the door close behind him. The old red plastic lost its shine a long time ago, potentially before they even got it. Not that it mattered, it still worked, she kept it stocked well enough. When you’re known for stupid things you have to be prepared for stupid prizes, don’t you? It opens with a satisfying click, the lid clattering against the counter noisily. She rustles through it one handed as she searches for her butterfly bandages to close her arm up. The boxes had broken at some point, leaving different sizes all over the container. Or someone had emptied them in the box, seems like something Celia could’ve done if Hades pissed her off. The idea made the woman giggle, imagining the little girl standing in her bathroom tearing apart boxes with that grumpy little pout on her face. She’d have to ask her about it the next time the kid came by. If not her, probably her stepson, Hadie and his dad always had to have something to argue about. 

    “What’s got you giggling?” He’s holding one of those old ice packs they got right after getting back together, one the baby ones she’d snagged for a much younger Mal and Hadie. Smiling at his wife as she shuffles through the box in front of her. “Someone spilt all the band-aids in here. Which would be a lot funnier if I wasn’t looking for those little butterfly ones that hold things closed.” He hums, putting the boo boo ice in her hand and taking the box from her. “Let me see.” She holds the cold gel pack to her welts, hissing at the sensation as she forces herself to lean into it. “I bet this was Hadie,” he grumbles, sifting through and throwing the tiny bandages into his other hand’s palm. “I thought Celia did it,” she mumbles, watching his hands intently, “You did piss her off something fierce last week.” Another chuckle falls from his lips, placing the tiny bandages and a large wrap bandage on the counter. “You need to hop on this counter and let me see what we’re working with.” She scoffs, popping her hip against his, “Who said this was a two person job?” The man tilts her head to him, taking in the swollen cheek and dried blood with a scowl. “I said. You don’t get to ‘strong independent woman’ this, you’re hurt, I’m helping. Now hop on the counter yourself or I’m putting you on it.” 

    She plants her feet, tilting her head as if to challenge the man. “I don’t need help. Didn’t need help getting hurt, don’t need help cleaning myself up.” His brow raises, stepping closer to her and dipping his head down so their noses touch, “You’ve done enough fighting today, haven’t you? And it looks like you lost to me, get on that counter.” “You haven’t seen the other guy,” she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest on instinct. A hiss follows directly after, the raw skin on her left arm slipping over her vest’s zipper in a way that felt like it was chewing the wound. “Uh huh,” he grabs her hand, pulling her injured arm to him. It wasn’t anywhere that he had to worry about. No major vessels in the way, the skin simply oozing blood instead of spurting it. That’s good, he was worried after he saw it on his own skin.  

     She doesn’t fight it when his hands wrap around her hips, lifting her like she weighed nothing and setting her on the bathroom counter. “I am making sushi out of that fool.” He doesn’t intend for her to hear him but the giggle she lets out is comforting all the same. “And you have got to stop doing the opposite of what you think I want you to do just because you don’t want to listen to anyone else. You can’t keep doing shit like this, (Y/n). I’m going to end up losing you.” It makes the air around them heavy, Hades turning to the linen closet to grab a wash rag. She opens her mouth to respond, just to realize she didn’t have anything of substance to say. What could she say? You’re going to lose me anyway if we’re stuck here? He was immortal and she wasn’t. No way he didn’t lose her. You got me back the last time? Something told her that he wouldn’t like her reminding him she left him seventeen years ago. And she didn’t like the idea of being reminded that she’d get to go to the underworld before he’d ever be able to go back, separated for so long her soul might forget him. Instead she sighs, eyes locked on Hades’ every minor movement. He runs water over the rag and when it touches the aggravated skin on her arm; she nearly moans at the contact. The chill of it was so comforting, the gentle strokes he’s using keeping the normally exfoliating fabric as nothing more than a tickle against her skin. Tongue slightly poked out as he pulls the skin closer together, eyes cutting up to her every now and then to insure that he wasn’t hurting her. “Hold that.” She follows the order, too tired -or perhaps too relieved by his help- to argue. He places the little butterfly bandaids over the opened flesh in sets of two, six of the little things covering the cut total, before grabbing the wrap bandage from beside her. “That wasn’t as bad as I thought,” he mumbles, wrapping the gauze-like material around her, “Not too tight?” She shakes her head, “It’s fine.” 

    With her arm handled he turns to her face, touching her chin ever so slightly to turn her head from side to side. “I hated when she’d accidentally hit me with those slimey things back in highschool, can’t imagine how it felt to be hit with one on purpose.” She hums, watching him lift the now bloodied rag again. “Sucked.” He rolls his eyes, “Yeah? I bet it did, Princess.” The rag comes up to her nose, wiping blood away from her top lip. “At least it’s not broken, just bled a little.” She nods, nothing left to say as he raises the ice pack to her cheek again. “You’re definitely going to have some bruises on that cheek though. Lucky for you, I still think you’re hot when you’re all beat up.” Her eyes roll but there’s an adoring glow to her face that he doesn’t miss. “You have got to take care of yourself, (Y/n). I can’t lose you to something as silly as some fool’s attitude.” His face is soft, eyes locked on her as his hands settle on her thighs. She knows what to say this time though, leaning forward to press a quick peck to his lips that only hurts her a little bit. “I love you. Like, really really love you.” He hums, pulling her closer to him from her little perch on the counter. “I love you, idiot.”

[fem-the-artist]

Timmy’s attachment style is so fucked

His parents were extremely clingy towards him recording every moment of his life for childhood memories, until the age of eight he also, presumably had no friends during this time, considering imaginary Gary being around when he was five, which concerned his parents so much that they sent him to therapy to get rid of him 

Than because of a white lie, he ends up dialing a babysitter for himself which led to his parents realizing they can leave him alone without a second thought to do all sorts of ridiculous, nonsense. leaving him for the next two years to deal with Vicky on his own, which definitely gave him lasting trauma, considering she frequently destroys his belongings and finds ways to humiliate and embarrass him. also been said that she is his greatest fear multiple times within the show so yeah, there’s definitely trauma there 

And it’s not being until around the age of 10 that he gets fairies which results in him actually having people he feels safe to be around 

And I believe that’s partially a ��driving force of why Timmy is so attached to Cosmo and Wanda. whenever he has a problem, he talks about it with them. He wants to play, He hangs out with them. Those two are his go to for everything.  because he relies on them as if they were his real parents, and since he spent a significant chunk of his life with his parents around for every moment of it, Cosmo and Wanda slide into the role that they used to fill 

And tho Cosmo and Wanda constantly reassure Timmy that his actual parents love him, he’s not going to his actual parents for comfort he’s going to his fairies if he’s excited, he’ll tell Cosmo and Wanda, if he’s upset he’ll tell Cosmo and Wanda; if there is anything he will go to Cosmo and Wanda first he doesn’t talk to anybody else about his issues most of the time and even when he does it after Cosmo and Wanda, tell him to 

It’s no wonder that he’s attached to his fairies more than presumably other kids with fairies are 

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

We'll give it a shot

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 30/31

Prompt: New year's resolutions

Rated: G

CW: aftermath of injury; aftermath of trauma

Tags: Established relationship; recovery; fluff

Notes: Continued from days 3 and 18 - @house-of-the-moving-image and I just wanted them to be happy after all we put them through. 😭❤️

Steve has always been all movement, all fluid grace, for as long as Eddie remembers. On the pitch, in the pool. Shielding others with his own body, his strength. He was proud of this. It was the one thing he knew he was good at.

And then Vecna nearly twisted his limbs from his body. Broke his arm in three different places, his leg in five.

“They say I'll need to be patient,” Steve tells Eddie a few months after everything, hands tangled over the middle console of the van. It's late December and they're on their way back from physical therapy. “Could be months before I walk without crutches. Years maybe before I'm back to the way I was before… or close.”

Eddie clenches his free hand around the steering wheel, like Steve clung to that stupid handrail earlier. White-knuckled and pale-faced, jaw locked tight as he struggled to take a few shaky steps. Not for the first time, he wishes that he'd been faster, pulled him out sooner-

“Eds.”

He snaps back to the present as if pulled by a bungee rope. Steve’s eyes are warm and soft.

“Stop it,” he says, gentle and firm and so very strong, so very Steve. Eddie needs to swallow against the sudden thickness clogging his throat. “You've nothing to hold against yourself. You saved me.”

“You saved yourself,” Eddie huffs, eyes stubbornly trained on the snowy road. “I helped, is all. You can do this, too. You'll be walking in no time, you just wait.”

“Dunno,” Steve mutters. He sounds so small, so broken, so very much not like himself, and Eddie wishes he could resurrect Vecna, simply to kill him again. Make it more painful this time, let him suffer like he made them suffer. “You saw me just now. Feels like I need to fight forever for every little inch of success.”

“Let's make a deal?”

The words are out before Eddie can think better of it, but the sadness on Steve’s face has given way to curiosity, so he shoulders on.

“We could make it a new year's resolution. If you manage to walk by … July, let's say, I'll quit smoking.”

“Oh, please!” Steve's eyebrow quirks. “As if you could.”

“Of course I could. I'm tired of you whining about my cigarette breath anyhow. What's wrong, big boy? Scared of getting your ass handed to you?”

“Fuck off,” Steve grouses, but his mouth is curling into a smile and his eyes are sparkling. “It's on, dude!”

“Hell, yeah!” Eddie makes no attempt at hiding his smug grin. Count on Steve’s competitive streak to win him over. “It's so on!”

*

“Oh God,” Steve squawks the second his hands lose contact with the crutches. “It's off. Eds, it's off, give’m here.”

“Nuh-uh!” Eddie dances a step back - not far, still close enough to catch Steve in case he falls, but far enough to keep the crutches out of reach. “Just give it a shot, c’mon. You got this.”

Over the distance between them, their eyes meet.

“I've gotcha.”

Steve's eyes light up and a small laugh bubbles from his throat.

And then he walks.

Eddie makes sure to stay a bit ahead, spouting a never-ending string of encouragement and jokes and sweet nonsense. Just keeps talking so that Steve can focus on something other than the fear and the doubt. Guides him with his voice like he's done before, like he'll keep doing for as long as Steve needs, as long as he wants.

The first steps are unsure and wobbly, but soon enough, Steve finds his footing. They've both kicked off their shoes, and the dry summer grass is brittle under their naked feet, the earth soft and warm. The sound of their footfalls mingles with the whirr of the cicadas in the grass, the rush of his own blood in his ears, their mingled laughter, a gorgeous, wonderful symphony of alive, alive, alive.

When Steve’s legs give out and he stumbles, Eddie is there. He cushions their fall with his own body and they go down in a tangle of limbs and laughter, lips meeting before they even hit the ground. The crutches go clattering somewhere to the side.

“I did it!” Steve gasps against his mouth, and Eddie can't tell if the sound is more laugh or more sob. “Shit, did you- did you see that? I did it!”

“You did it,” Eddie rumbles, hands in Steve's hair, kissing his lips and nose and eyes and anything he can reach between words. Both their cheeks are wet with tears, but they're good tears, finally good tears, and he can’t tell whose they are anymore. It doesn't matter. All that matters is that they’re alive, and here, and together. “Fuck yeah, you did, always knew you would. So strong, so amazing. Love you so much.”

Steve makes another sound, a raw thing so full of emotion it makes Eddie’s heart flutter, and crashes their lips together again, firmer, longer. Eddie sighs as a hesitant tongue coaxes at his lips, opens up, lets him in.

And then Steve groans and pulls back.

“What?” Eddie asks, insides twisting with worry. “Shit, did you hurt yourself? What-”

“‘m fine!” Steve wheezes, glancing up at him with watery eyes. “You just taste like an ashtray, is all.”

“Oh, c'mon!” Eddie grouses while Steve rolls off him, flops onto his back in the grass. “I had like half a cig this morning.”

“Half a cig too much, then,” Steve beams up at him, all glinting teeth and gold-streaked hair in the sunlight, eyes sparkling with mirth and alive, alive, alive. “I win.”

Eddie pouts. “What though? Can't remember agreeing on a prize, this was all fun and-”

One strong, nimble hand tangles in the collar of his shirt, pulls him in.

“Shut up and kiss me, ash breath.”

Eddie has never obeyed an order more gladly in his life.

All my holiday drabbles

[maxdibert]

I know this might be more aggressive than I usually do, but I'm honestly tired. I can't help but believe that the marauders fandom lives in a completely different reality than mine.

They love to force how good James Potter was, but this same James exposed Severus' intimacy. “He had no intention”, if a person takes the life of another without intention, does that change that a person died? It doesn't change. But they love to say that because there is no intention, there is no guilt, when that's not how it works. Besides all the repetition of how Severus was an incel and James was the one who sincerely loved Lily. The epitome of agape, they say, when in reality, he was just a spoiled little rich boy who can't hear "no" from a girl and get on with his life and instead he... *checks notes* threatened and blackmailed their supposed “love” in addition to chasing his best friend with his gang of idiots and, at the same time, leading the other to hell, even though said boy heard the girl’s “no” and disappeared from her life as she asked.

They act as if Severus being a spy was no big deal and it was his obligation to do something to defeat Voldemort, when it wasn't, he had already done enough by going out of their way to give a warning about the Potters' safety. Aside from the stilted speech that "he did it for the girl", when, amazingly, said girl, at this point, is already dead, he would have gained nothing by doing what he did for the wizarding world. It seems like a competition about who objectifies Lily the most in Severus' life, when Severus: never said anything negative about her, never assumed anything about her sex life or even said that she deserved to die for not choosing him, on the contrary , he blamed himself and wished for his own death. "But, look, he bullied the son of the woman he said he loved, that's definitely obsession," his character flaws in relation to Harry were never about Lily but about old memories of his bully. His problem was always unique and exclusive to James Potter. Every time he insults Harry it's always "you're like your father", but never once did he say anything even remotely negative about Lily or blame her for cutting off her friendship with him. But still, the fandom loves to spew nonsense about how he "wanted to get into the girl's pants and got angry when he couldn't."

I vented, sorry.

That’s why I genuinely think most Snaters are just kids—they see everything in black and white and don’t understand that life doesn’t work that way. Severus didn’t owe anyone anything. The fact that he felt bad about Lily wasn’t an obligation; he could have not cared and it still would’ve been fine. Lily cut ties with him. Lily married his bully. It would’ve been completely justified for him to see her as a piece of trash after she ended up with James. Honestly, I would’ve seen her as trash. If a former friend of mine pulled something like that—ending up with someone who had physically and psychologically tormented me for years, knowing full well what I went through—they’d be lucky if I didn’t burn their house down for being such a piece of work.

But Severus's relationship with Lily carried an enormous emotional weight because she had been his attachment figure for many years. So it makes sense that he ended up feeling so guilty, especially since he was the one who told Voldemort the prophecy. But again, even the prophecy wasn’t something he shared with malicious intent. Severus was doing his job as an agent in a war (even if he was on the "wrong" side), and it just so happened that his work unintentionally affected someone he cared about. Of course, he felt guilty afterward—it’s completely understandable. Anyone in his position, with his life experiences, would.

If I were in his place, though? I would’ve ignored Lily completely. Let her and her bully of a husband die, honestly, LOL.

One thing I find fascinating about Severus is how much things actually matter to him. He cares about repaying his debt to society. He cares about redeeming himself for what happened to Lily. He cares about doing the right thing to atone for his mistakes. And he doesn’t have to care, because all the people he sacrifices himself for are people who treated him like garbage at some point.

He didn’t have to be loyal to Dumbledore, especially after Dumbledore forced him to stay silent when he was almost killed as a teenager, made him keep that secret, and left him out in the cold. He didn’t have to be loyal to Lily either. No matter how their friendship ended, I think it’s indefensible (and I’m sure others would agree) for her to get involved with a spoiled rich kid whose whole reputation was built on tormenting others. He didn’t have to risk his life for the Order when most of its members openly despised him his entire life.

He didn’t have to do any of it. And honestly? It would’ve been justifiable for him not to, given his context and his past. But he did. He did all of it because he wanted to be a better person.

Sure, his personality doesn’t always reflect that, but let’s be real—that’s the personality of someone who never stops suffering. His reactions aren’t strange—they’re the normal reactions of someone with unresolved trauma who’s reached adulthood without the chance to fully develop emotional or social maturity because of that same trauma.

And of course, he didn’t need to beg for James’s life. If I were Severus, I wouldn’t have asked Voldemort to spare James. I’d have asked him to inflict the worst possible torture on James before finishing him off. But then again, I’m Spanish, and we Mediterraneans have hot tempers and always choose violence, LOL.

But seriously, I’m so fed up with the endless whining about why Severus did this or that. It doesn’t matter why. The fact is, he did it. The important thing is that his actions contributed to a cause, and thanks to him, the world was saved. Everything else is irrelevant because, let’s be honest, many of us would’ve walked away from saving a society that judged, mistreated, and condemned us without a second thought.