#gonna do that again if i ever give him more veils it fucks hard
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yea
#will the tags work this time oui ou non#lets see#qsmp badboyhalo#qsmp fanart#qsmp#mishapen draws#ill reblong in a second with the non-snowy version#and maybe. maybe... it'll actually go into my tags and be organized#s'il vous plait tumblr please#anyway i love drawing veils apparently like oh my god that shit's fun as hell#this was loosely based off of bad's current elsa skin lmao i thought it looked like his hood was a veil combined with the bare shoulders an#i like veils#stole an old design concept from myself by attaching the veil to his halo#gonna do that again if i ever give him more veils it fucks hard
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Oh God. David Heard There's Room Service In Hell!!
Once again, I am testing my drawing ability by NOT doing any of the MANY illustrations I need, but I would've been sad if I couldn't finish an illustration. And look! I made it! I CAN DRAW! (And collage, obvs not my suitcase or BG, but all Public Domain)!! Well, my stylus needs a new battery, BUT, IN THEORY, I CAN DRAW! It's low res like all my test images, and I don't think I'm gonna put Vivziepop out of business anytime soon, but I'm fond of it.
That's why I'm so sad that it'll NEVER EVER HAPPEN. As a storyteller (albeit an obscure one) let me elucidate...
Strictly in terms of narrative viability, David hails from an incompatible universe. For an Invisible, he's middling. The Compelling Voice he's so fond of seems to be standard-issue, he's just more of an asshole about using it. In Tin Soldier and Soldier On, he's not all that hard to beat. Some people even have a natural immunity! He's only a threat in the first place because nobody knows what he can do.
But the minute he rolls up to the Hazbin Hotel, not only does nobody know what he can do, nobody has that natural immunity, and it would be hard as hell (haha) to beat him with their combat-friendly magic system. David isn't doing that Capcom-esque "freeze the enemy for a few seconds while they're looking at it" hypnosis. He's issuing unbreakable commands. If you're not deaf, the only way to beat him is to forget what he said. And that seems like it would be difficult, if not impossible, for most of the cast. Alastor certainly won't stoop to inflicting head trauma or hypnosis or amnesiac-levels of liquor on himself.
And that MIGHT not be a problem, except as soon as Dave meets Al he's gonna go from zero to nemesis in about three seconds flat. "Hmm, let's see. Neat freak, carefully-curated personality, perma-smile, never a moment's weakness... That's a pathetic little traumatized man-baby and I'm going to pull him out of his shell if I need to use a crab fork!" And, canonically, Alastor is also willing to make enemies that quickly. David has a sense of humour and no sense of self preservation, combat tentacles and veiled threats ain't gonna do it. Round one, David's gonna mop the floor with the Radio Demon.
...And by that, I mean he'd stuff Alastor into one of Niffty's frilliest little outfits and literally make him mop the floor, and even Charlie encouraging him to be a better person wouldn't get him to quit. Also, he'd be ignoring her and bending over backwards to get Angel's attention.
"Oh, listen. The man is over one hundred years old with zero interest in one-night stands or whirlwind romances. Prohibition isn't a thing anymore, drinking and dancing just doesn't cut it. Give him a chance to develop a fetish for something a little bit taboo..."
"I̸̠̤̐̄̄ ̸͕̝͙̌A̸̪̅M̴̭̰̙̎̓ ̶͓̻̐̉L̷̹͕̍I̷̯͗T̷̫̄Ȩ̶̾̋R̴̝̥͒A̷͔̩͋̃̕Ļ̵͗͜L̶̘̈́Y̵͇̓͗̂ ̴̼̪̘͠Ā̷̠̽̆ ̶͍͓̊̉C̷̣͕̺͆̃͝A̵͙̾̅N̶̥̬̮̄N̴̤̯̬̒̉̚I̴̩̜̍B̷͈̪̩̄À̴̝̦L̶̪͂͛͗!̶̟̆"
"That's not a fun night out. It's barely even a meal, what with the garbage they're feeding people these days. I imagine everyone tastes like a fucking 'Cool Ranch Dorito.'" [while making quote marks with both hands] "Isn't he from Louisiana? They invented spicy! Tell me, my deer fellow, is the cross-dressing and domination lighting up any dials?"
"Ì̴̗ ̶̧̫͓͋W̵͜͝Í̸̗͋L̴͔͆̊̌L̴̨̜͚͂ ̸͈̤́Ḱ̵̳̩͜Í̷̘̾L̶̨̫̬̉͋̌Ļ̵̱̗͐͊ ̴̧̣͊̄̈́Y̴̛͖̺͓̓̐O̶̢̦̍̀U̷̠̞͇̎ ̷̨̛̮̭I̷̙̜̽N̸̘̣͙̆ ̵̞͑͝Y̷̰̭̽O̷̟̘̹̓Ủ̶̢̏R̷͉͑̄̀ ̷̧̧̤̎Ŝ̶̱͈̃L̵̰͋Ȅ̸̜̗̙̊̍E̷͇̦̒P̷͈̝̅̆͌.̴̡͈̅͑̓͜"
"My good man, I have unlimited access to drugs and a fun new activity, WHY WOULD I SLEEP? What shall we try next? Do you have any drugs, Angel? Oh, of course you do! Do you think he's more of an upper or a downer person? I think a few muscle relaxants might loosen up that permanent rictus of social anxiety, but God only knows. You must be smoking a crate of cigarettes a day! Do you even brush? Your teeth, I mean. Do you suppose those lovely people at Lourdes make a mouthwash...?"
And Charlie would say, clasping her little hands, "Okay! What if we make some popcorn and talk about our childhood traumas? Yaaaay!"
But David would, inevitably, pass out. Most likely after binging and doing untold damage with Angel. And Alastor would kill him... And that's where we have the biggest fucking plot problem of all. Alastor's go-to method of disposal is tearing people to pieces while broadcasting it on the radio. And it seems like their screaming continues for quite some time, perhaps eternally.
I have expressed this in song form, because I have a weird brain and I couldn't resist.
Wait, wait, nevermind the eternal torment. Can these little hellions hear me?
Test, test, is this thing on? Pardon me, could you quiet down a bit? I have a few things I’d like to… Will you stop screaming? Ugh.
EVERYBODY SHUT UP AND LISTEN RIGHT NOW!
That’s better.
I have a little message for my executive producer.
Well! I say!
Colour me startled, you fulfilled your vow
Think you’ve won? But I’ve barely begun!
I’m always looking for new fans to wow
Can you hear me NOW?
[aside] Will you screamers sing backup if I command it?
Can I get a little harmony?
(We… can’t help ourselves?)
I am eternal, and guess who’s just boosted my signal
So I can reach all of you lovely new people?
(We can’t help ourselves!)
It’s your own Radio Demon!
What was he thinking?
(We can’t help ourselves!)
What was he drinking? Ha!
His dial must be twisted!
Now I’m serenading the damned for my infinite span
All according to plan!
Am I a madman or a genius?
I’m a pianist! Take that, FCC
I’m a wonder, your saviour
Please excuse my rude behaviour, (but the demon sure done fucked up!)
Think he did me a favour?
Silence my vocals? A failure!
I’m louder and I’m certainly braver
So crank the signal to the noise, and enjoy my compelling voice
It’s nice to have all these new toys, (but our deer friend is annoyed)
A Spirit of Radio beats a demon blow for blow
This Invisible is crackling on the air!
Well, one does like to believe
Though you’re stuck, I’m almost free!
That’s what you think!
Your weak signal can’t compare
Though you’ve had a little fun
Your broadcast is done, and it’s time for your payback
I’m in control
Too bad you atomized my soul!
… Not this attention-starved, brandy-addled, overgrown twink
Guilty!
What could be more absurd? A plagiarist bird
Tweety-pie can’t even sing, his theft is pitchy
You call that bitchy?
I’m afraid that’s not entertainment!
You're looking for a new twist? Then let’s remix the arrangement!
Is Al as stiff as he projects?
What sorts of kinks do you suspect?
I’ve seen lacy details with my very eyes!
He lies!
And if I Tiked a Tok or two
Well, there’s nothing he can do!
A V̷̰͖̉̂͝İ̶̙D̵̛̻̮̙͛̕E̴̼̱̕Ŏ̷͆ͅ?̷̗͎̞̏̅!
If I did, you can’t delete it
That's the truth!
When I find you in here, Ÿ̴͕̚Õ̸̠̝̕Ů̵̩̹Ŕ̸͔ ̸̬̋̂̔͜T̸̮̙͌̕Ő̵͔͕̑̄R̵̩̣̅͌̌͜M̷̝̹̾̏Ĕ̶̦͕̟Ň̶̮͊Ṱ̷̲̈̔̈ ̵̡̹̟̑Ẅ̷̝́͝I̷͉͋ͅL̴͎̞̎L̶̯͓͑ ̵̬͐͐͝Ḅ̸͚̬̅Ẹ̴̎̿͠ ̴̻͉̲̐̈́͠N̵̖̟̤͑̽E̴͙͎͘V̸̡͕̦̾̕Ė̵̝͈̀Ŕ̴̺-̸̡̱̇̾̉E̴̠̣̊̐̋Ń̵͔̬̝̑D̴̡̬͙̓İ̴͔͋͊N̸̞̙͐̒Ĝ̷̼̺̐͆.̸̤̭́̐̅.̸̰̓͝.̷̤̬̌
#MaidioDemon is trending!
Y̴̼̿͆O̶̟͇͊̏͜Ǔ̸͈ ̴̨̫͘I̷̡͓̜̍̈́̽N̸̜̩̉̄͝S̵͚͈̭̅̓Ĩ̸̢̯͇͘Ṗ̶̩̭̦I̴̱͑D̷̨͖̚ͅ,̴̥͕̌̈̾ ̸̛̳̈́Ṭ̶̢̠͒Ė̸̱̼̕C̸̙̥̈́H̵͓̠̔̀N̷̖͝Ǒ̶̬Ć̶͔̃͘Ř̶͙͍͠Ä̴̟́̊T̴̳̉̊͜I̶̞̓͝C̵̢̨̲͐̇̎.̵̼̏͋.̷͎̆ͅ.̸̘̜̒
Darling, please, you’re lost in static
One thing’s clear!
You must be wishing that you took the L, you poor deer
Say farewell. I’m very grateful that you gave me Hell
Oh, this will be swell!
[Vivziepop, distantly:] Fuck!
"Stayed Gone" is a patter song and I can't keep up with it as I read it, but I think the lyrical parts scan, at least. A-heh. Please excuse my hubris, but it's doubtful anyone will see this.
Of course, I would never torment someone with arguably GNC-phobic revenge porn, but that guy IS NOT ME. Your only hope for dealing with David is if Vaggie decides he's more of a threat than an amusement and straight up kills him, and that's not a plot, that's a cul-de-sac. So this little not-a-fic is all you'll get from me about this unsustainable situation.
...Alright, I might put Alastor in a maid outfit if anyone cares, but I really should be illustrating. I have precisely 13 to do before I can post more story! Unless I decide to post it anyway!
All apologies to Vivziepop, whom I've name-checked as one of a few creators I'd sell out or saw off my leg to work with. But - although I am tempting fate - prrrobably no one will see this. I'm just doin' a little practice and amusing myself.
Right, Tumblr?
#tin soldier and soldier on#art#updates#art practice#hazbin hotel#alastor#and meet david valentine!#low rent noodle birb drawing#long post#fanfic#but not really#song parody#phoenixes i guess?#could've gone butterfly but i think there's enough moth people already#and that whole light/shadow dichotomy would've been fun#if it wouldn't destroy everything cool about david AND hazbin hotel#maybe the moth-to-a-flame thing is more appropriate...#but val and vox are already doing that so maybe not?
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Ooooooo it’s been awhile since I did my ocs!!! Here’s two bonus sans ocs. Because why not?✨ bonus art at the end of course to show you what they look like- (in order of the headcanons)
Requested/traded by @veiled-rebel
My OCs’ Desired forms of receiving affection/confessions!
Hero:
* Hero is always busy with his work as a detective. So he usually is pretty busy….but oh nothing makes his heart flutter more than you making sure he’s ok during work. I think that alone is enough to make him respect you a lot!
* Nothing fills his heart more than quality time as well. He gets to learn more about you, enjoy his favorite things like anime and his cooking with you, and just enjoy your company to its fullest! Can you really ask for more?
* Receiving a confession is not what he was anticipating. If anything he was getting ready to do it- he just needed time Y’know! (And the fucking balls to actually do it but that seems to disappear everytime he’s with you-) but a confession via heartfelt letter and homemade chocolate anime style? That would make him absolutely melt. Kinda hard to say no when you worked so hard and stars above that was so cute-
* And no worries. As a lover he’ll make sure to make more time just for you!
Rubin:
* Ah the flirty little thief. You’d think nothing can faze him other than his fear of bunnies (long story) and the police after his ass. Think again. Because the moment you show genuine concern for his wellbeing, he’ll play it off for you being a worrywart….but on the inside he can’t help but be flustered.
* And the bigger reactions you can get from him is actually physical touch. Hes so used to….well inappropriate touching from his late night escapades. But if you rub his ears, his head, tend to his tail, just spoil him in affection? He’ll be making adorable fox noises and cling onto you. It just felt so nice, please don’t let him go…..
* Confession time you REALLY have to convince him. Yeah not even joking when I say, you might have to really grill this into him. He’s gonna be in denial and not believe it. So grab his shoulders and look him in the eyes and say you love him dammit!!! Once it goes through, he’ll finally hug you and accept it.
* Him being a lover is actually quite nice. He spoils you and makes sure you feel wanted. And so many gifts! (Stolen or actually bought who knows-) but the goofball is definitely not going anywhere✨
Lisa (My sona):
* Girlie may be a little gremlin of chaos but deep down she is an anxious gal who’s got a low self esteem and has no fucking clue what’s she doing half the time. So to get her attention? Please be direct- flirt a few times, spend time with her and she’ll get flustered. Dense at times but just be patient she’s just a lil dumb sometimes-
* But nothing grabs her attention more than physical touch. She’s a daydreamer and overthinker. So cupping her face would instantly bring her back into reality. And oh the head pats- the hand holding- the cuddles- she’ll be even bolder over time and initiate it!
* And imma be real. She’s never expecting a confession. She’s had front to front confessions or indirect ones. But none too special yknow? Just a simple “I like you”. She doesn’t mind….but if you deadass go just a tiny bit further? Say flowers and her favorite cosmic brownies or hell even a homemade sweet? She’ll accept them while trying not to cry. She a little emotional plus she’s a sucker for cheesy romance-
* As a lover she’ll try harder more then ever to make you feel happy and loved with what little she has. Just give an occasional reassurance and she’ll be over the moon happy.
Arcane:
* She’s all about business and getting cash anyway she can. Sometimes life is tough and you just need the cash Y’know? She’s pretty chill but she’s pretty, knows it, and utilizes it for business! …..but it hits different when you genuinely say how gorgeous she is. Not for business or you being a creep. Just….a genuine compliment.
* She’s a little more complicated than you’d think. Quality time is alright but she thinks nothing of it. Physical touch is only ok with permission (aka $5-) and yet…..Gift giving gets her attention. Specific gifts like homemade stuff….or stuff she actually needed. It makes her feel….Conflicted but happy.
* Confession really depends on how close you’ve gotten with her. But she honestly would melt either way if you take her out on a date, take her to see a dandelion field and have a picnic. And take her hand to tell her how you really feel. Stars the romance and realization hits her hard….oh dammit she has to accept this. You were too sweet to let go….for $50✨ kidding!✨
* She’s even sweeter and shyer as a lover. It’s a nice contrast from her usual self….and only you get to experience it.
Sugar:
* He’s actually a mixed fandom boy! He stays in the Hazbin hotel as a helper! He’s an ex exorcist and left heaven because he believed in Charlie’s ideal! First step into getting his attention? Easy. Agree with Charlie’s ideal. At least a little bit. He’ll be ready to talk about it with you!
* Now he’s a sweet lil angel Skellie. He finds anything sweet as a fresh breath of air. But acts of service….? To him and the others? Stars he’d go from proud to slowly falling for you. Seriously he’ll start protecting you from any demons- he’s scary when he needs to be-
* Heh ok I’m gonna be for real- he probably confessed the same day you were gonna do it. So now you both are standing there with your gifts like ah- 😀 before bursting into laughter. Safe to say you won him over instantly.
* He will always be by your side to protect you from harm….while sneaking in a few hugs and smooches of course!
Brutus:
* Oh don’t let his size intimidate you. He’s literally just a big ol sweetheart. Just a little rough around the edges but hey he’s a fell variant he can’t help it- he comes from a literal wasteland of an AU and has to raise his bro up like his own kid….if you don’t mind sticking around, he might just warm up to you. Maybe.
* He’s kind of a mixed bag. You see his bro is really important to him. So if you do acts of service and help him out with the kid? He’ll be surprised but in a good way. Even if you force his ass to rest at times- but he also enjoys quality time with you. Whether you two are joking around or you scolding him. He can’t get enough of it.
* A confession he didn’t really expect from you. Especially not a bold one in a public restaurant- why is this important? Because he fears of you being seen with him. Like cmon look at him! Do you REALLY wanna be seen with him? Confessing in public would finally convince him that you genuinely love his company no matter what. So he accepts with a bit ol cheeky grin. He’s such a dork at times-
* And as much as he takes care of that kid, he’ll be sure to take good care of you too❤️
#my writing#undertale au#self insert#funny#cute headcanons#oc headcanons#OC art#my sona#sans oc#hazbin hotel mention#mixed fandoms#fell sans#request answered
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for the random ask game!
2, 4, 5, 26, 35, 43, 58
Thanks bestie! The other asks are gonna get done eventually, brain has just noooot been letting me do shit lol.
2 - Do you have an accent?
Not really. Although technically my state has an "accent" that people kind of unofficially adopted. Sometimes my "a's" sound like "o's." It's not like southerners saying "wooter" and not "water," but the most obvious example is saying the name of my state itself.
4 - Have you ever slapped anybody?
I don't think so. Definetly not in a real, serious way, but I can't remember if I've done a stage slap or not.
5 - Did you learn a skill or get a new hobby during lockdown?
Honestly... I don't think so. Lockdown was really hard on me even being as big of an introvert as I am. I was depressed and mostly did what was familiar rather than doing new things. I've blocked most of 2020 out tbh.
26 - Have you ever won a contest?
Actually yes! Our big botanical gardens was opening a kids area and they needed a name for their mascot, a Marmot. The name I suggested was picked and I was there to attend the grand opening. It was televised and everything. I was gifted a marmot plush that I still have to this day (this was thirteen years ago).
I went there a couple years ago and the kids' section is still there and the mascot is still around here and there, although I don't think my name is anywhere. I can't even find articles about it.
Here's the little lad:
35 - Favorite dessert?
Fuckin Cinnamon Buns. I could eat so many of those, especially the ones from Cinnabon.
43 - Is there a movie you detest for a very specific reason?
Fucking "Sound of Freedom." As most of you know, I worked at a movie theatre this past summer and it was the bane of my existence. It's about child trafficking and it released on the fourth of july. And as you know, Americans see the word Freedom and go ape shit. And it's a very specific crowd: Conservatives. Your religious grandparents, military members, Blue Line Supporters...
And the tRump/QAnon crowd.
I extend my customer service to everyone but these people were/are ASSHOLES. Getting mad at me when showings were sold out (my co worker even had people ask if she could *move other people* from their seats so she could sell them to this old bat and whoever was with her).
On my last day I had two women buy tickets for it and try to trick me into free food by saying they ordered pretzel bites when they most certainly didn't, thinking I was too stupid to realize otherwise... I read their order back to them twice and they said it was fine both times. Jokes on them cause I rang them up in a separate order so they still paid...
Oh and our ushers have seen SEVERAL religious pamphlets and scriptures left behind on the seats.
But it did lead to this funny story:
When I was working on the 4th of July, every showing was full or almost full. This one dude with a Trump hat and a cross around his neck the size of my palm asked about a solution to the problem of his wife not liking butter on her popcorn but he did. I poured the popcorn into a paper bag we give out so people can share easier and let him use his free refill to fill the bucket again, so two buckets of popcorn.
He called me smart, asked for my name (since I didn't wear a nametag) so he could thank me properly, and gave me candy. I wished him a happy fourth since I really was hoping he would tell my manager I did a good job (praise is praise even if he wears a red hat) and he just bellows "AND A HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY TO YOU AS WELL, MA'AM!"
...so there was a thin veil made of ignorance and my own resourcefulness that prevented me from getting hate crimed at work since if this man knew a gay pagan had helped him out...
And no I don't think he actually talked to my manager about my helping him.
I seemed to get more respect from these people seeing this fucking movie than others (which says a LOT cause I had so many dicks I had to help) and I've theorized that maybe these nut jobs thought I was religious cause they saw the pin on the hair scarf I wore and assumed it was representative of some Christian sect...
...It's a Volturi crest pin.
But, yeah, to sum up, fuck this movie and the crowds it brings. I knew it was gonna be bad when I read the synopsis on my monitor the morning of the 4th and saw Jim Caveziel was the lead, fucking JESUS in "The Passion of the Christ..." and what's even WORSE is that he's the lead of "The Prisoner," the show I wanted to watch because of baby JCB.
Working Barbenheimer was like a doomsday for me, but Sound of Freedom was a chronic and horrid pain...
Although this happened, so that's horribly ironic:
58 - Are you or were you a good student?
Yeah basically. I was kind of universally known as the smart kid nobody talked to but everyone wanted in their group projects. Finished high school with a 3.97 GPA, but most of that can be credited to my extreme fear of failure. College has been no different lol.
#i could rant about sound of freedom for hours and tell you so many stories but i won't#both for your sanity and mine#ask game#random ask game#random asks#fishgills speaks#beloved mutuals#my inbox is open
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i'm so excited about you taking asks again ahhhh okay so. if you'd absolutely had to choose. what would be your top 5 cockles moments, and why? thank you ily <3
here’s the thing: there are so many routes i could go down with this, because cockles moments come in all shapes and sizes and formats. these include moments from their panels, their bloopers, the footage we get when they don’t even know they’re being recorded, stories being passed down from photo ops & autographs(one of my personal favorite ways to get cockles, tbh, because they’re all insane), and social media(tweets to each other, instagram posts & comments, etc.).
SO! since many a list like this has already been made, and i want to stand out from the crowd, what i’m gonna do is definitively give the number one spot to each of these five categories.(i might even throw in honourable mentions because they’re so despicably in love that they warrant that. i really put my whole pussy into this, guys, i hope you’re happy.)
disclaimer: these are my own personal opinions. but that also means i’m right. so. enjoy.
number one: top cockles panel moment
so we’re starting off with a bang, because how do you even BEGIN to rank what atrocities jensen and misha commit at jibcon. every single one they’ve had is damning in it’s own right, for different reasons.
however, considering just how much unabashed fuckery they’ve given us to sift through, it’s a good thing i do have a personal favorite despite it all. it’s heartwarming, the sweetest thing i’ve ever seen, AND it’s jarringly cinematic - mainly because it has a whole ass arc to it that was years in the making. it might even be surprising to some people, but my favorite cockles panel moment, and what i consider the one that encompasses their entire gut-wrenching journey from 2008-2013 in the most sweepingly romantic gesture possible, is this one.
i want this burned into my retinas. i am not even joking. when i'm through with my explanation, let me convince you why this is thee most romantic cockles moment of all time.
first, some history: people call this the resume off, but many seem to forget the botched attempt at a resume off a year prior. and yes, you guessed it: it's during their break up. it's a juicy time period for a reason, guys. it came across as exceedingly one-sided and VERY awkward. let me refresh your memory as to just how bad it was, and just how hard jensen was trying and ultimately failing at winning misha over: the funniest part of the whole resume off in 2013??? every joke/bit had literally already been made/done. they were just going through the motions again, but the difference THIS time...is that misha reciprocated jensen's energy. it. is. fascinating. i want to get into it more detail in another post, and i'll link it here when i'm done, but the main takeaway, i think, and the main difference that showcases how much they've grown in a year, is that in jib 3, misha flat out refused to do an accent, and this time around, he indulges jensen for literal minutes. when i tell you they're crazy, they're crazy. i can't wait to actually dive into it later.
ANYWAY, the resume off culminates in this moment here. and, like, a million things happen in this gifset. actually, more like a million and one. the music starts playingneediremindyouthatthesongissingingintherain(h e l p), misha starts dancing, jensen 'perpetually fake grumpy' ackles lets misha think he's not going to join, misha sits down defeated, but no!!! that was jensen's plan all along(look at his stupid fucking smirk) and he offers his arm to his dance partner who immediately grins like a fool, jensen then leads misha into their kick step, they perfectly synchronise and let loose, and are then very clearly having the time of their lives, hanging off of each other with joy and ease. from their expressions alone i can tell that this moment is so. so. so. so! much more than what initially meets the eye. i mean-misha is fighting back the biggest smile i've ever seen. to me, it reads like jensen is offering something to misha, something that misha kind of gave up on expecting, and him offering his arm like that is like, a surprise to him in the best possible way(and it's so not platonic, let me just say that.) as soon as jensen did that, it ushered in a new era of cockles. this panel is jensen and misha's favourite for a reason, and i think this moment is the biggest clue as to why.
whew!!! ok. that took a lot out of me and that was only point one. moving on,
number two: top cockles blooper moment
cockles bloopers hold an extremely special place in my heart, because it shows just how fucking disastrous jensen and misha are. they are so goddamn infatuated with each other that they HOLD UP PRODUCTION ALL THE TIME TO FLIRT WITH EACH OTHER(???). let me repeat. let it sink in. jensen ackles; arguably one of the most professional actors on that show who puts everything he has into each scene, with mountains and mountains of notes to prove it: would rather hold up production to flirt with misha collins. this sounds fake. it's not. he does it. all. the. time. and here's the thing guys!!! i'm gonna let you in on a secret!!! misha loves it. he loveesssss it. on top of that-misha collins: overlooked because he's pranked and people assume he's unprofessional as well, but his only pranks are in retaliation/off-set, and he rarely if EVER causes problems if he can help it....lets himself get carried away when it comes to jensen making kissy faces at him!!! are you actually kidding me!!! i mean. misha. it's just a face. you've seen it a million times. i don't buy that it triggers something in you that strongly....you like it, and you like jensen's reaction. you can't fool me!!! lisa berry's face in that one gifset shows just how fed up the crew is with their gross, coupley boyfriend antics.
i could pull up so many examples. sooooooo many. but my favourite was sealed since the moment i saw it.
i actually already wrote an analysis on it but i can't find it :(((( which SUCKS because i really unpacked the whole thing. i'll try to summarise.
basically, a backstory is part of this too!!! jensen and misha both had a really really hard time with this scene(because it's explicitly romantic there i said it), they sat down for hours and poured over their scripts together, they were super super nervous going into filming, both of them, jensen especially, were super hard on themselves for their performances not being true to their characters but they both complimented the other's work(boyfriend moments fr). so, yeah. they weren't confident going into shooting. and how do they get themselves to feel better???? by cuddling each other, apparently.
a lot. a LOT. happens in this specific blooper. to the point that i saw it years before i knew about cockles and it raised all sorts of flags for me.
1) stop pulling my face towards your crotch(as a thinly veiled request that misha would, in fact, move jensen's face towards his crotch, considering it was jensen moving himself there in the first place. also, why so comfy down there guys???) 2) you're my baby daddy i know(in the most intimate voice i've ever heard please) 3) i know, i know, i love you too i didn't say i love you i know but you wanted to say it etc. misha's right, of course. that's what jensen meant.
it just reeks of comfort, familiarity and intimacy between the two, and it's a moment that is extremely sweet and silly at the same time. they're so <3
number three: top cockles found footage moment
WONDERFUL category. truly the culmination of the cockles experience. many people have said that shipping cockles doesn't work because 'they're just onstage you dummies!! they're playing it up for the audience!!!' here's the thing, love. i could not disagree with you more. once you climb your way up the cockles ladder, you soon learn that they are, in fact, playing their dynamic DOWN, not up. they really are just Like That™, and they could not care less about the paying audience, if we're being honest, considering how much time they take to giggle with each other and refuse to let the audience in on the joke. and i love them for it <3
anyway, my point is that this category is for all you naysayers out there, all you 'jensen and misha's relationship is just for show and is real life queerbaiting'(?????lordhelp???) oh yeah? ok, explain this.
he. he. he calls jensen sweetheart. literally enough said. there's nothing to really add here, except, misha and jared then immediately engage in damage control. jared's method is distraction and misha's is retconning('get out of the car, dude') this was what got me to buy into the cockles dumpster for GOOD good. you don't call your buddy sweetheart accidentally and sound so completely earnest while doing it! especially not when that buddy is jensen ackles!!! you think he would let any of his friends call him that? do you?
one more thing; if it was a slip of the tongue, little mouth thing or whatever, you think jared wouldn't have jumped on it immediately??? i can hear it now. 'did you just call him SWEETHEART???' yeah. that's what i thought. you know why he didn't? because it was too revealing.
number four: top cockles autograph moment
i mean, i think we all know what it's gonna be, and if you don't, well, do i have the piece de cockles resistance that is gonna send you over the edge.
if you haven't heard of this story by now, as a cockles, truther, i'm gonna go ahead and get you to read it, because there is no possible heterosexual explanation for any of it, and you're fooling yourself if you think otherwise.
spoiler alert: it's the story where phones weren't allowed in an auto session, jensen nuzzles himself in misha's hair, leans his full body weight onto him, holds his hand, etc. etc. i'm imploding just repeating this back, actually. also, just, the sheer amount of stories from photo ops where they tackle hug each other or slap each other's asses or sing romantic songs to each other or almost kiss is, frankly, a lot. if i could wish for anything, it would be to witness them in person.
and finally,
number five: top cockles social media moment
this one is super difficult, because there's obviously a lot to choose from. but you know what? full send, i'm going with this one:
i just. what to say about this. how often do misha and jensen watch sunsets together for it to qualify as ‘always’ ??? why are sunsets synonymous with their relationship??? that’s like??? a very romantic thing????? ‘this guy’??? the fact that it’s a CANDID??? i don’t know guys.
that could have been better but i am TIRED so. there you go rose ily
#cockles#cockles ask#liz answers#i really just. spend hours. writing about misha and his boyfriend.#why. why do i. do that#long post for ts
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⋆｡˚⁀➷ WRAPPED UP.
⤷ pairing. ceo!kuroo tetsuro x (female) secretary!reader
⤷ genre. fluff, smut, office au, friends with benefits au
⤷ warnings. swearing, taboo relationship, the use of princess as a nickname, possessiveness, messy sex, rough sex, begging, brief mentions of degradation, ass slapping, ass groping, teasing, (unexpected) sir kink, manhandling, dom!kuroo, sub!reader, power play, spitting, consumption of another person’s spit, lingerie, dirty talk, penetrative sex, sex without a condom (please be safe, kids), *unedited
⤷ note. this might be one of the dirtiest things i have EVER written... so i hope you enjoy! and of course, happy valentines day ♡
1.6k | what's a better valentine’s day gift for your boss than yourself?
the relationship you and kuroo have is a bit taboo. the secretary and the ceo. with the way you sway your hips with a little more emphasize when you leave his office, the way you laugh at all his jokes, the way your body dip downs (ass in the air looking absolutely perfect) to grab at fallen papers. of course, something was going to happen. you were practically betting on it.
but of course, it takes two to start the devil’s conga line.
it was kuroo who wanted you to stay later than usual. only you and him in his big office space and yet he urged you to stay, big hands rubbing at the inside of your thighs. it was him who insisted on how sexy you looked in the middle of meetings; your hair neatly tucked behind your ears, lips pouted and a fire behind your eyes that would make any man weak. it was kuroo that guided you to his desk, smile bright and eyes glowing with mischief because he knows he’s got you right where he wants you. you can’t complain though, you want it too.
he grabs at your waist turning you around so your thighs are firmly pressed against his desk. the lace you have on perfectly shapes your body. it presses at your delicate skin, digging and reaching into all the places kuroo wishes he could touch. he swears he could stare at you all day like this; bent over, dripping pussy on display just for him.
this was different though.
no matter how many times you walked in his office with your alluring eyes. kuroo prided himself on being professional. there was a natural attraction between the two of you, that much is obvious, but for the sake of his company, kuroo never made a move. the feeling of belittlement against you for ‘sleeping your way up’ would make him stay awake at night with guilt. however, tonight things were different. maybe it was the fact that this was your first valentines together or maybe fate just has a really niche sense of humor, but whatever the case; you’re still sopping wet and begging to be fucked.
his hands roam your body. he moves slowly, studying every curve and dip like you’re the latest from leonardo de vinci. ah yes, the redness from when i smacked her ass contrast perfectly to the color of her eyes. you’re beautiful. he desperately craves to say it but the words die on his tongue before he can speak. instead, he lets his actions talk.
“it’s too bad these have to go, princess.” a single finger traces your lace cladded entrance. the action alone has you whimpering. “i’ll buy you another set though.” you feel him shift from behind, body leaning down to press a chaste kiss to the small of your back.
one of his hands snake up to your neck, yanking at the roots of your tresses. the force makes you gasp. a mixture of pain, shock, and pleasure rushes through you. your head whips back in an uncomfortable position, but you’re able to see kuroo’s perfectly sculptured face, so really you have no complaints. “how do you feel about red?”
the sound of fabric ripping in half has you concern, at first. but kuroo tetsuro, for as long as you’ve known him has been a no bullshit kind of man. he teases and jokes but when it comes down to business, he’s a cutthroat beast. so it makes sense for him to move on as fast as he came.
there’s no time for you to wonder in astonishment at how he throws your (now useless) panties across his office. he’s already pulling out his cock and sinking into you until his body presses right against your back. naturally, your lips part into a pout that’s wrapped around a wanton moan. the stretch is sensational and the burn evens out the euphoria. he feels you up so well. you can feel his cock rub up against your walls, reaching spots within you that have never been touched by anyone else before. you understand now why your boss is no play and all business. when kuroo needs to, he’s not afraid to get down and dirty just like right now.
“this cunt was made for me.” is what he purrs into your ear. it’s embarrassing how much that affects you. the mere idea of being his has you clenching around his huge cock. his free hand rubs at your back, grabbing at the supple flesh on your ass. you can feel his nails dig into you, the coldness from his rings slightly soothing the pain.
“this ass was made for me too.” and to further cement his claim, he delivers a particularly hard thrust at the same time he smacks at your cheeks. the movement makes you fly forward, papers and other (probably very important things) slide off the top of his desk, but you don’t have time to care. not when the man of your dreams is fucking you so good. you’ll worry about the crumpled up project approval papers later.
“god, and that mouth.” he shifts to the side. the pressure on your head heightens while he pulls at your ends. your neck feels stiff and his thrust begin to shallow. his ring cladded fingers draw at your jaw, thumb playing with the entrance of your mouth.
“this pretty little mouth.” his lips brush against your own. his breath fans across your face. he’s so close to kissing you in fact if you moved just an inch closer you would– a fat glob of spit cuts you off. the sudden action made you flinch at first but kuroo made it very clear you could tell him to stop at anytime. his saliva comes down from his long tongue and slots within your mouth perfectly.
he clamps your jaw shut and you have no choice but to swallow him whole. “good girl, just like that.” he coaxes you while petting at your crown. when you finally open your mouth and all of him is gone, kuroo swears he could cum right then and there.
“you’re so fucking sexy. holy shit.” his shallow thrust began to get more punctuated now. you can’t hear anything besides the slapping of skin-on-skin contact. you don’t hear kuroo’s phone ringing for the third time. you don’t hear the bustling street life just below tetsuro’s flamboyant row of glass windows. all you can focus on is the intense pleasure that pumps through your veins. it makes you see stars with every thrust, makes your legs shake with every murmur of pretty girl. the white hot coil within you is thinning. it’s about to snap, you can feel it.
“te– tetsuro, please?”
“please, what, princess?” his voice is strained. he’s close too.
“please, can i come, sir?”
he can’t believe it. he must have died in the middle of the day and ended up in some kind of sex heaven with you as the starring role (not that he’s complaining). he has the a fantastic view of your ass bouncing, you swallow him down like the pretty slut you are, and you respond perfectly with every little touch, every little action. you’re perfect is what he concludes.
“fuck, yes.” his fingers dig into your sides. his grip is like a vice on your skin as he shoves himself deeper within you. “cum for me, princess.”
you feel his dick twitch and seconds later he’s cummings with a shaky sigh. you’re finally able to let go, you come at around the same time, milking his cock for every last drop. kuroo takes it upon himself to fuck you through your orgasm, a little slower this time, but it still has you breaking down.
he remembers the way you sauntered into his office, skirt a little too short and eyes practically begging for him. you must have known something was going to happen. there’s no way you just wear pretty pink lace to your everyday job. no, today was a special day for you and apparently for him too. when things finally get too much, kuroo tucks his softened cock back into his pants.
you’re hair is messy. it’s matted from all the sweat and tangled from all the times kuroo raked through your locks and pulled. your chest rises and falls quickly and your eyes are closed trying to concentrate. the blissful veil of sex is finally settling and yet you still look as gorgeous as ever. he’s left there staring at you like you’re the only thing that matters to him. like he wouldn’t mind waking up everyday to your face weather you’re smiling up at him or snoring up a storm.
when you shift to hop of the desk is when he finally makes a move. he grabs onto your waist, trying his hardest to steady himself so you’re able to balance too. your feet hit the floor and your legs feel like they’re gonna give out at any moment. they wobble under your weight. you can’t help but laugh. it’s a sweet, melodious tone that’s a little scratchy from your... previous actions, but still, he thinks it fits.
“what’s gotten you so giggly?” he guides you to one of his plush office chairs. as you walk, your body remains flesh against his.
“i just–,” your hues lock onto kuroo’s dark ones. “i wouldn’t mind if we did this again, yanno?”
he smiles down at you watching while you readjust your skirt back over your legs. you bend forward with you’re ass in the air. you must be doing it on purpose, he knows with the way you comically wiggle your hips. and he nods, “yes, i wouldn’t mind that either.”
#hqradiostation#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#hq#hq!!#haikyuu smut#hq smut#kuroo tetsuro#kuroo smut#kuroo x reader#kuroo tetsuro x reader#kuroo tetsuro smut#haikyuu x reader
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DAMAGE DONE FOR KENPACHI SOULMATE CAN YOU IMAGINE THE A N G S T AND CONFUSION
I know ppl who follow this blog have taste because you were the the first of four ppl to ask for this exact combo jdhdjsjs. We are all Kenpachi brain rot compliant.
Features: Cutting/self harm, a real shit start to a relationship, and angst.
Bleach Your Soul: Ask Meme
Kenpachi Zaraki + Damage:
So much of your life was defined by isolation. A patient treated terminal. Everyone paid you the same attention they would a ghost, fleeting smiles and tears that fell over your bed as though it were a grave.
How could you not feel tortured and angry, to be saddled with a soul mate determined to drag you through hell with them? There were times you truly believed were your last. Stabs too close to your guts. Slashes peeling open to far towards your heart.
There was little room in your thoughts to worry about who suffered with you, other than to curse them. Whether they struggled to live or delighted in violence, you didn’t know. You didn’t care. It was hard to care about anything while laying in your deathbed. Through childhood, your heart withered like the flowers always dying on your window sill. If only they’d throw you away for good, as well.
You garnered hobbies to keep busy rather than to enjoy them. Your stitching, calligraphy, and precocious little drawings stained in blood more often than not. The 4th division was your jail. Your soulmate, your warden. Keeping you there, always.
For years, you begged them. Desperate to be heard--to have a modicum of fucking control--, you carved words into your skin. Were they scared the first time you did it? Did they hate it? Did it hurt them?
Vindictive, you hoped all your horrible thoughts were so. When you cut ‘stop. stop. stop. stop.’ you did it on your side and hip, so it would reopen. Again. And again. And again. And--
They never responded. No matter what you wrote. ‘Please stop.’ ‘It hurts.’ ‘Doesn’t it hurt you?’ ‘I hate you.’ ‘Who are you.’ ‘Don’t you care?’ ‘Kill me.’ ‘Die.’ ‘I’m sorry.’
Slowly, then suddenly, the damage that had been near daily stopped for so many years stopped. Your family settled you back in the home, a living urn. They said your name and stroked your cheek and smiled too small when you spoke.
Your skin buzzed with the absence of what had plagued your entire youth. Was it sickness or shame that drove your blade through your skin still? Did you just miss it? Was the violence boiling you alive with no where to spill out anymore?
There were times you swore minuscule nicks would appear, healing too fast to smooth over, but staying long enough to feel. Older, able to be among people, you realized what that could mean. What kind of person you’d told to die as a pithy little tween.
Were they alive--really alive? Did anyone else care or were you the only one?
‘Songbirds.’ ‘Hello.’ ‘Your name?’ ‘Sorry.’ ‘Work sucks.’ ‘Too hot.’ ‘Alive?’ ‘Hotpot.’ ‘Cut words.’ ‘Please.’ ‘Alive?’ ‘Shinigami.’ ‘13th.’ ‘Rank?’ ‘Rukongai?’ ‘I’m sorry.’
@
Retsu Unohana, the only woman he couldn’t quite look in the eye, was there to smile all serene-like over him. After he’d lost. Figures she’d be there when he fucking lost.
She asked him all those annoying questions about how his body felt and told him all the things he needed to heal from. He wanted to shake her like Yachiru did when he wasn’t paying attention enough for her liking. Who gave a shit about all that--he lost and got what he deserved. He had to get stronger. Just because she’d abandoned her pride didn’t mean he would.
“Your soulmate is here, too.”
Kenpachi couldn’t ignore that one. He never ignored that one. Not that they let him, with all their fucking writing. Saying the strangest shit sometimes too.
When he was young, he’d been paranoid, not knowing what the fuck was doing the writing. He’d swing his sword over his calf or side or thigh, expecting to lob and invisible arm off. Running, Kenpachi would try to out pace the fucker.
Yumichika explained it like having one was exciting. Ikkaku had yelped for Yumichika to knock it off as the man with beautifully kept hands had given himself a paper cut.
“See? It means the person you’re meant for feels everything you do on the battlefield.” His colorful eyelids narrowed, sights shifting between his captain and Ikkaku. “Or in the file cabinet, if either of you would bother to help out.”
The more he understood--and thought about it--the less he wanted to meet them. His soulmate. Kenpachi wasn’t a person who forgave weakeness and anyone meant for him wouldn’t either, right?
He’d been consumed by sleepless nights, futile attempts to nap, and brutal training sessions, trying to keep his failures out of mind after the realization. What if Yachiru had been forced to take every blow the same as he had? Whenever he tucked in his lieutenant, the question ate at him further.
With time, there had come some form of solace--one day he’d find the thrill of a horrible battle again, to drown the thoughts out. But what Ichigo Kurosaki had offered hadn’t been horrible in the way he’d imagined. And here he was, face turned away from Unohana’s thinly veiled impatience, his feelings too complicated to bother with fully.
“Well?”
Unohana stood, like she was disappointed and Kenpachi couldn’t help but snap at her, “Fine. Whatever.”
She smiled, soft as she’d gotten, and went to the door. “Fine to what? I only told you they’re here. But if you’re so determined to see them, Captain Zaraki, follow me.”
@
Grumbling about how much he hated ‘that sneaky shit’, Kenpachi did follow her, and went through the door she gestured at before being closed in with your recovering body. Your body hadn’t healed as fast as his, but that wasn’t a surprise--you’d be a captain for sure if you could pull that shit off.
Worst of all, you were awake, the scar lining one side of your face as thick as his own. No one else was in the room with you. There were no flowers or cards. And your mouth was hanging open.
“You’re alive.”
“Yeah well,” Kenpachi didn’t know what to say, trailing off as one of his fingers brushed over his thigh.
“Everyone is talking about your fight,” you said, filling his silence with a light shrug. “I figured it was more than coincidence that I ended up like this at the same time. I’m glad it was you and not the ryoka.”
“You thought that kid was your soulmate?”
“How was i supposed to know? No one’s seen him since your fight, or so they’re saying.”
“The scar’s pretty fucking obvious.”
“Uh, I’ve never seen you before and it’s not like you’re ever in the Seireitei Bulletin or...or wandering around where people could find you!”
Kenpachi winced, not because of your words, but because the closer he got, the more your sweat and shaking arms showed. You must’ve been like this for a lot of your life. A worming feeling of guilt he seldom felt curled in his belly. Now that he had a person to pin to the thought, it swelled large.
Maybe if he were a softer person, someone rounded out like the long gone Yachiru turned Unohana, he’d say something comforting or concerned or even charming. But his hand was still on his thigh and his mounting frustration at himself, all revolving around his lack of strength, felt thick on his tongue.
“This mean you’re gonna stop with the fucking words?”
You pulled your head back slow, looking up at him like you couldn’t decide between succumbing to exhaustion or lunging at him.
“What if I don’t? What if I just keep going till you respond?”
“You’ll keep going until ya die.”
“Well, great! There’s you’re answer,” you scoffed. “You’ll have to kill me.”
It was a shit start, all things considered, and the silence that took over the room as Kenpachi sat on the nearest chair, so hard it almost cracked, felt as horrible as his zanpakuto refusing to answer him.
“The name’s Kenpachi Zaraki,” he said, resolved to at least get your name.
“Yeah, I know.”
“Damn right, you do. Now tell me yours.”
You wouldn’t have introduced yourself if he hadn’t looked so...well, you couldn’t quite tell what he looked like. Tired, maybe. Tired and wanting something.
So you gave him your name, your relief that he was alive, that you hadn’t wished him to his grave in your youth, outweighing your anger. An apology for putting you here was like grasping at the sky and hoping to hold a star, if his reputation proceeded him. So you let it go as best you could.
And Kenpachi settled back in the chair, grunting in acknowledgement. He didn’t think learning your name was gonna make him stronger, but it felt nice to hear someone talking to him like a person and not a beast.
If he was being honest, it’d always felt nice to be given your words, when so many people refused to give him any. A bit awkwardly, he stayed while you fell victim to sleep, your breath slow before he spoke again.
“Thanks.”
#kenpachi zaraki#kenpachi x reader#kenpachi zaraki x reader#bleach imagines#bleach fanfic#kenpachi having to grapple with his love for battle having direct consequences on someone he comes to care for more and more#and reader having to decide if they can move past the fuck ton of harm he's done to them or if they can't make peace with it#especially since he is not going to apologize for it#like lmao Kenpachi you keep calling Unohana a weak coward in your mind but just you wait JUST YOU WAIT#can you bare to lose the only one who loves you when both yachirus are dead and no greater enemy than a god will ever come again#tybw with this au would be pain#bc tbh i don't think reader would make it#unless they were also put in a pod
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—BREAKING & ENTERING
—ch.1 —ch.2
summary: after dabi was seen leaving your apartment complex last week, the commission has sent a lesser known hero to help guard the building until new cameras are installed. however, no security measures in the world could keep dabi out.
w/c: 5064
tags: dubcon, cuckolding, creampie, voyeurism, humiliation, exhibitionism, arson
a/n: this is the final chapter to this little duology, and the reason why its so much shorter is because the first one was really supposed to stand on its own, but i got so many requests for a sequel i couldn’t help it. so i just took the kinks i didn’t get to use last time and pay off some setup and voila. however, just ‘cause this is the last chapter of this story doesn’t mean i’m not gonna write a fuck ton of other stuff for him. ily burn man. plus i’m working on a huge, multi-chapter fic for him while i post smaller one-shots >:) that being said, enjoy.
The impact Dabi left on your life was far bigger than you thought it would’ve been on the night you snuck him away from the law. As he was running from the cops someone saw him climb through your window, and a different person also saw him climb down the fire escape. With witnesses like that, the other tenants were downright furious.
You almost felt bad for the landlord, it wasn’t his fault you were insane enough to willingly let a villain come inside both you and your apartment.
Your landlord and the police department came up with a solution. The apartment complex would be installing new state-of-the-art locks on all fire-escape adjacent windows free of charge. This wasn’t exactly an issue with seeing Dabi again, since all you had to do was purposefully leave yours unlocked.
It would take two weeks to install all the cameras, but until then, a community-assigned hero would be stationed to guard the complex.
His name was Kao, a middle-ranked hero with bright orange hair and a winning smile framed with dimples. At first you thought he might’ve been one of the better heroes, waving you off to work and walking you there the other day, but recently he’d begun to creep you out. The friendly conversations about a tv show you both enjoyed began to turn into invasive questions about your love life.
A week of lingering glances and uncomfortable prying culminated that Friday as he had flat out asked you to dinner moments prior.
“C’mon, I just— I said that wrong, lemme try again,” He stuttered, keeping pace with you as you marched towards the building.
“No, Kao, look, you’re cool and all, but I’m really not looking to date anyone right now.” You huffed, striding into the doorway and towards the elevator. That might not’ve been the whole truth but you obviously couldn’t tell him that you had the hots for a terrorist.
He groaned, rubbing the back of his neck, “Well you just got off work, right? I remember which room you stay in, maybe I can swing by tonight?”
You whirled on him, your jaw slack in shock at the insensitivity of his words. The reminder that he knew where you lived sending a shiver down your spine, “Kao, this conversation is done. I don’t want you following me around anymore, hero,”
Deep down, your words sounded familiar. If they were raspier and said behind a thin veil of indifference, you might’ve realized that you were talking like Dabi.
“What is that supposed to mean? We’re the good guys!” You slammed your fist down on the close-door button, your mouth a thin line, daring Kao to make a move and stop the doors. He didn’t, and soon the reassuring pull of the elevator set your shaking body at ease.
‘Who does he think he is?’ You were bitter, rightfully so, you think.
You were so frustrated that you had difficulty inserting your keys into the lock, twisting it with a growl and throwing open the door, ready to collapse onto your pillow and vent to whoever was online about your heroic stalker.
When you noticed the scent of cigarettes in the air.
“Hey, doll,” Warmth surged through your chest at the sight of him, the villain’s feet kicked up onto the coffee table.
You were hanging your coat on the hook before moving beside him to the couch, “What took you so long?”
“Not happy to see me? You seem a lot bitchier than I remember,” The crude edge of his humor was a breath of fresh air compared to the stifling niceties of work, and you smiled for what felt like the first time that day.
Shaking your head, you toed out of your boots and made your way to the frayed couch, “I’ll tell you all about him,”
That got his attention, “Him?”
“A hero,” Dabi’s frown worsened, an accusatory look in his eyes, “before you ask, no, you idiot, I hate this guy, there’s not a chance I’d sleep with him.”
The tensity in his shoulders relaxed, bring the half-finished Newport to his lips as you continued, “Since you broke in last week all my neighbors lost their shit. They threatened to sue if my landlord didn’t assign a hero to watch the building for a bit. I thought he was cool, but I’ve just decided that he’s a total prick.”
He hummed, nodding understandingly, “Want me to kill him?”
You gaped, hitting him on the chest, “Wha—No, Dabi, what the hell?”
He just shrugged, the intensity of his words almost funny to you, and as you recounted the last twenty minutes the ashes of Dabi’s cigarette fell to the floor. The dying lights of the sun streamed through your window, the smoke oddly beautiful in the glow as he handed you the last hit of his cheap cigar.
“You know why heroes are like that?” You shook your head, enjoying the numbing calm of tobacco, “It’s cause they’re spoiled. They go their entire lives being praised for everything they do so they don’t know how to take no for a fuckin’ answer,”
Apparently your smoking buddy was feeling talkative, much to your delight. His words made you pause, remembering the relieved faces of your neighbors whenever they’d see the gaudy costume Kao wore as he strode by.
“Shit... guess you’re right,” You mumbled into his side, not minding the ever-present aroma of burnt skin and smoke that clung to Dabi’s coat.
He scoffed, “I’m always right, baby,” His words earning him a pinch on the arm.
“No, you ass, just about the hero stuff,” He grinned, the staples on his dimples taut against his skin as he pulled you closer, his breath hot against your ear.
“Careful, doll, you’re starting to sound like a villain,” The drop in your stomach sent heat down your skin, yet somehow you were still shivering under his predatory gaze.
You shook your head, trying to will away the red that dusted your cheeks, “No way, my quirk isn’t strong enough to be a villain,”
He raised his eyebrow expectantly, broadly gesturing for you to go on.
“Well...” God, why is this embarrassing? “I can give people headaches.”
You didn’t know if he would laugh at you or belittle you for your meaningless quirk, but he did neither.
“Think you could practice it more? Get better at it?” He was serious, staring at you and expecting an answer.
You looked away, unable to hold his gaze, “I mean, maybe? It’s not hard to do, I guess,”
Dabi smirked, pulling you onto his lap. It felt as if the week hadn’t happened at all and you were right back where you started, your face flushing at the memories of that night. He dragged you close, eyes dark as he whispered something into your ear...
“Think you could split someone’s head open with a migraine?”
Your gut wrenched, flinching at the gory idea and making you sit up in Dabi’s lap. The atmosphere in the room hadn’t changed, his stare as menacing as before.
That is, until he started to crack up. Louder than you’d ever heard before, his fit filled the apartment until he had to cup his stomach from laughing too hard; the wheeze in his rough throat echoing around the room as your blush spread all the way down your neck.
“Oh, you asshole!” If anything, your shove against his chest only made him more giddy. The panic-fueled adrenaline was still surging through your body, unwillingly making the wetness between your thighs spread, even as you tried to wrap your head around the fact that Dabi had been fucking with you.
Your legs shook as he held on to you for balance, his cackling dying down but the shit-eating grin never leaving his face, “You were so freaked out, huh?”
“Yeah, no shit!”
He hummed, running a hand through your hair and suddenly yanking you forward, basking in the sharp yelp it brought from you, “You’re cute when you’re scared,”
You’d missed the way his scabbed lips felt on yours more than you’d ever admit. There was something about him that left you breathless, eager and questioning your life choices. Groaning into his mouth before pulling back and laving your slick tongue along his disfigured lower lip, you rolled your aching heat against him to force a truly pornographic moan from his mouth.
“Oh, fuck—” One of his hands slid down your back, grabbing your ass through your jeans, “Fucking hell, you missed me that much?”
You nodded dumbly into his shoulder, pressing chaste kisses along the ragged skin as he slid his finger past the band of your jeans, cupping your dripping sex with wide eyes.
“Goddamn, s’no way you’re this wet for me already,” His eyes were scrutinizing, trying to figure out why you were hiding into his neck, “What’s got you so worked up, doll?”
You couldn’t come up with a good excuse in time, Dabi thinking back to how your thighs had tightened up when he asked if you could kill someone, your eyes were frightened back then, yes, but there was something else. Something you wouldn’t tell him.
When the realization hit him, it hit hard.
“Holy shit, you get off on being scared?” He couldn’t believe his luck, the embarrassed groan you buried into his shoulder confirming his suspicions.
Dabi ran a hand through his hair, a childish wonder over his features, “Aren’t I fuckin’ lucky?” He sneered, pulling you back til you were at eye-level again.
“I’m gonna try something, baby,” there was an edge to his voice as he settled one hand on the small of your back, pressing your tits against his chest as he held your bra strap back with the other.
“What are you… Dabi, what are you doing?” The scent of fire and burning fabric filled the air, the ends of your bralette smoking between his fingertips, embers turning to ash and sprinkling down the couch until it was flimsy enough for Dabi to rip free, teeth sinking into your neck as he held you still to keep your skin safe.
It was jarring and a bit terrifying to be restrained against someone like Dabi without knowing his intentions. But nothing in you could deny the blinding rush of pleasure it ripped down your spine.
“It’s all starting to make sense, doll-face, I guess I was right the first time,” His hands tossed the smoking bra into hallway, reaching between you and torturously pinching and pulling on the rosy blush of your tits, “you do have a thing for villains,”
“Can’t wait to fuck that tight pussy again, doll,” Without warning he shoved your torso forward, your body bouncing against the couch, his hands flying to the button of your jeans.
“—Didn’t have time to take you right last time, didn’t get to taste you,” his words made you whimper in his grasp, keeping your legs somewhat raised as tugged down the tight denim.
You fully expected him to take you rough like before, make you choke on his cock before having his fill, but as he tugged off your black panties he crawled down the trembling body beneath him, slowly moving over your ribs, your stomach, and finally your drooling cunt.
He never broke eye contact with you as he pulled your thighs closer, keeping them spread wide as the hot fan of his breath on your pussy sent a thrill through your neglected nerves.
“I want you to scream my name,” It was an order, not a request. The unhinged tremor in his hands was unsettling, an unspoken threat hanging in the air.
Dabi’s tongue immediately found your clit, mouth wrapping around the glistening bead and sucking all at once, the moan it drew from your lips unholy. He moaned at the taste, hiking up your hips onto his shoulders.
“Christ, you’re sweet, doll, like fuckin’ candy...” He muttered in disbelief, more to himself that to you, licking a wide stripe along your drenched lips, diving into you deep enough to have your limbs spasming around him.
On instinct your hand flew to your mouth to muffle the sharp cry that the villain drew. He didn’t warn you before bringing his hand up high and slapping it into the bare skin of your thigh, a scream echoing through the living room. Distantly, you wondered if your neighbors could hear...
“Don’t you dare hide a single sound from me, slut, or this ends now,” his ultimatum was scary but the insult felt heavy in a way you’d never felt before, and you nodded without a second thought, breathlessly bunching one hand into the arm of the couch above you and the other into the ashy black of his hair.
You nodded down to him, silently saying to continue; the villain fixed on watching as your chest swelled in time with your breathing, a rush of blood going to the heat of his cock.
His pace was hungry, nipping at your thighs whenever he thought you were too comfortable, spinning circles into your clit with his tongue and chuckling at the noises it brought, “You gonna cum, princess?” You could only respond with a scream of his name, the plea music to his ears, but he needed you to be louder if he was to get what he wanted.
“Louder,” Dabi called your name like a prayer, moaning into your cunt as you practically suffocated him between your thighs, “Fuck—Louder, baby, scream it,”
“Dabi!!” Your orgasm was hot against his tongue and he drank in every last drop of your climax until you were wrenching away his greedy mouth, your pussy swollen and red from his care.
Just as you started to compose yourself, a frantic banging sounded on the door. Someone from the hallway was slamming down their fist, screaming your name.
“Hey! Did you just say Dabi?! Are you okay in there?” It was Kao.
Horror clawed away any kind of afterglow as you cupped your hand to your mouth, leaning up on your elbow and whispering, “What do I say?”
Dabi’s voice was just low enough to hide behind the pounding of Kao’s fists, “Do you trust me?”
Before you could answer the hero behind the wall called your name again.
“If you don’t answer me in five seconds I’m breaking this door down!”
Your gaze flickered from the front door to the villain that was wiping your slick from his chin.
“Yes,”
Dabi grinned, grabbing your wrists and holding you against his shirt, one hand wrapped painfully around your tits and the other erupting with blue fire in his palm.
“Come and get her, hero!” You made a confused squeal, thrashing around in his grasp, eyes wide and afraid as Dabi shushed into your ear, trying to calm you down.
‘Like hell if you’d calm down, he’d practically just signed your death sentence!’ you heaved against the fugitive, trying to shake yourself free to no avail.
All you could do was squeeze your eyes shut and imagine you were somewhere else as door was jolted in its hinges, the doorknob falling with a distant clang, and before you could beg Dabi to stop whatever stupid game he was playing, Kao ran into the room, eyes furrowed and fists raised as the door squeaked on the loose hinges behind him, blissfully unaware.
“Where are y—“ Kao’s voice paused mid-sentence, you flinched in Dabi’s hold, the heat of the redhead’s stare washing over you, naked and wet, making you tilt your head down, trying to hide yourself from the world.
“Isn’t she cute, hero?” Dabi rasped against you, the heat of his fire illuminated against the sweaty sheen of your trembling body. Kao didn’t know what to do, flustered and struggling to hide the tent in his latex costume.
You knew fighting back against the villain was pointless, falling limp in the strength of his arms as he chuckled into your neck, looking over at the bump in his pants, “You were right, babe, I think he likes you,”
“Get your filthy hands off of her!” Kao screamed, diving towards the couch with his fist raised back.
Dabi simply grinned, carefully hovering his flame ever closer to your now bare tits, you couldn’t help but scream at the proximity, and whatever plan Kao had in his mind died before his fist could make impact.
His novocaine laced voice spoke calmly beside your ear, “Any closer and she’s dead,” The hot rush down your legs wasn’t due to his flames, as one hand took to rubbing your sensitive sex, the sounds it elicited from you unintentional and mortifying under the presence of Kao in the room.
“What... what do you want, you bastard?” Dabi laughed at that one, tweaking your clit between his fingers and conducting the most beautiful notes from your pillowy lips.
“I think It’s pretty obvious what I want, don’t you think?” Your name on his lips sent you keening against him despite the inferno roaring inches away from your skin. He couldn’t move without Dabi’s flames hovering ever closer to your heaving chest, and to Kao, you were very clearly about to die. Although you didn’t believe Dabi would hurt you, he had asked you to trust him before he got Kao’s attention, after all, the line between foreplay and conflagration was becoming blurry.
Kao backed up into the half wall that separated the living room from the kitchen, barely making an effort to try and hide his erection anymore, “I’ll send you to fucking Tartarus for this, Dabi.”
“Oooo, scary,” His unlit hand trailed down your jawline, tilting you to his side until he could slide his tongue into your open lips, humming into your mouth, “What do you think, doll?
“Dabi, please... wait,“ The strength in your voice wasn’t as heated as before, and even you had to admit it sounded half-assed.
Kao’s quirk must be no good for long range because all he could do was stand there, trying to avert his eyes from your drooling cunt in favor of glaring daggers at the coy villain pulling soft mewls from your lips, “I swear... I’ll see you rot in prison for this. You’ll be fucking executed, you rapist—“
“—woah, woah, that stings, hero. Doll, is that really what I’m doin’?” You groaned, not exactly answering because you couldn’t hear the question, your eyes still shut tight in embarrassment.
The growl in his voice sent another soaking rush towards your pussy, as his hand grabbed you jaw, pulling you up, “Look at me,” Your eyes widened at the sight of Dabi so close to you, his chest warm against your back, the aches of your last orgasm fading into something new.
“Tell me to stop, princess, your call,” Time stood still as Dabi kissed a soft pathway along your neck, weirdly gentle as he listened for your response, his clothed hard-on pressed firmly against your ass.
Too flustered to speak, you merely wrenched your arm free from his grasp, carding you hand through his hair and pulling him to your desperate lips. You could feel him tug into a smirk against you as your hips eagerly ground themselves on him despite the audience.
Kao choked on his own spit, stepping backwards, but stopped when Dabi aimed his ignited hand towards the hero who was having difficulty piecing together your actions in his head. “What,” His voice cracked when he called out your name, “are you...?”
Dabi pulled away, a feral glint in the blue hidden beneath his hair as he licked a disgustingly wet stripe along your cheek, chest rumbling behind you as you squirmed at the gross feeling, “I’m still gonna need you to beg, sweetheart.”
Your dignity was hanging by a thread, hinging on whether or not you followed his lead, but the insane buzz your anxiety had stirred up under Kao’s confused stare and Dabi’s aching cock was impossible to ignore. He rut himself into the dripping curve of your ass, his jeans soaked with your slick as you found the courage to speak.
“Fuh...” Carefully, Dabi pressed a loving kiss to your temple, his stare fixated on Kao’s as you strung the syllables together, “Fuck me, Dabi,”
The hero couldn’t believe his ears. She’d turned him down countless times despite his pursuits, yet she was somehow fine with this? Kao briefly thought that perhaps his crush was a villain this whole time, but that couldn’t make sense with her weak quirk.
You felt Dabi twitch beneath you, the shameless way you showed yourself off was as humiliating as it was hot, and he laughed in lightheaded disbelief against the back of your neck, taking your ass in one hand and slipping the other down his pants, tugging off the painful metal zipper until his boxers were pulled down just enough for his cock to finally be met with the soft warmth of your cunt.
“As the lady commands,” Dabi grinned, reaching around your waist to take his pierced dick in his hand, rubbing and tapping his swollen head deliberately against your clit, pre-cum drenching your pussy as you felt boneless in his arms.
“Ah-! St..S-top tea-sing, Dabi!” You babbled, squirming to try and find an escape from his grasp or maybe trying to force him inside you, but all your struggling did was make him harder. But before you could beg, you froze at the sight of Kao a few feet away, his legs bending into a sprinter’s pose. He was going to run?
Dabi was having none of it, a controlled jet of flame grazing Kao’s knee, scalding the skin beneath the latex. The hero cried out into the bite of his fist, collapsing into the wall a few feet away.
“Nah, hero. You’re not leaving just yet,” The villain rearranged you on his lap, “See, the thought of you jerking off to my girl? It kinda pisses me off, actually,”
The color in Kao’s face drained as he had no choice but to sit and watch as Dabi slowly sunk you down on top of him, one hand drawing soft circles into your stomach as you reveled in the feeling of his piercings hot against every part of you.
“Though, I’m wondering, what did you think about, huh?” Kao sputtered, unable to form words just like you, formless noises falling from your lips.
His scarred hands grasped at the flesh of your thighs, raising you up only to shove you back onto his cock, the flames that still extended to threaten Kao suddenly flared up in time with his thrusts, the weight of him felt so much deeper at this angle and it was hard to breathe, let alone speak.
“I... nothing! I didn’t—“ Another whip of fire cut through the room from Dabi’s fingertips, a cast of blue leaving bubbling skin in its wake, pain flashing across Kao’s face.
“Fuckin’ liar,” You yelped as Dabi shoved you down, moaning into your ear as you squeezed against him, sobbing his name into his chest as he picked up a steady pace in your guts.
Kao cried out, stuttering and gripping along the inflamed line of skin, “I-I thought— thought about her... fuck— I just wanted her to suck me off, alright? There, I said it! Are you happy now?”
He must’ve realized the mistake in his words as soon as he said them, squeezing your eyes shut but having no choice but to smell the stench of burning flesh and hear the sound of muffled screaming as it filled your apartment, “Can’t blame you though, her mouth is God,”
Your hands scrambled for balance against Dabi as the screaming of his victim made him downright feral, filling your tight heat so well it had you crying.
“Damn, you’re soaked for me, doll, I just knew you were a kinky fuck deep down. You’re a slutty little girl for me, aren’t ya?”
As much as it hurt to admit it, he was right. He was painfully right, and you told him so. The unhinged, unstoppable force that was Dabi ignited a passion in you that’d never been fed before. He was torturing the hero you hated all while taking your cunt in deep, harsh thrusts, the metal imbedded into his cock and his chest behind you were blisteringly hot against your skin.
“Tell him, baby,” His question fell on deaf ears, your tongue lolling from your mouth a bit at the pleasure.
It caught you off guard when he drew his hand back and slapped you across the cheek, a blistering red handprint in its wake, saying your name so softly, turning off his quirk to run his hands through your hair, he whispered, “Tell that fucking hero who you belong to,”
The world tipped over as Dabi gripped your shoulders, pushing you onto the wooden coffee table so your ass stuck in the air. In an instant he was on you again, pounding into your cunt with a glazed fervor, your words downright biblical in his ears.
“On-ly... Dabi ca—Ngh, Only Dabi can fuck me this good,” You forced the words from your throat, thankful for the table serving as an impartial shoulder to cry on as Dabi lined himself up with your cunt.
“More, princess,” The snap of his hips had you drooling onto the table, catching sight of Kao’s slumped body in the corner as Dabi’s breath sounded much louder than before.
“Fuck, baby—” You cried, craning your neck back to look at him. Sweat glistened at the crown of his dark hair, steam shading his breath as he took you hard, “Your cock is— shit its so deep in me,”
Your nerves were spent from exhaustion as he railed you, being more vocal than before as he choked at the feeling of your walls tightening around him, his fingernails digging future bruises into your hip dips, “Wanna feel you cum in me, want you to fill me up— Dabi, wanna make you feel good,”
“Fuck, doll, I can’t...” He ground his teeth together, making you squeal as he mounted you from behind, spreading your legs out wide so you had no way to hide yourself, “Gonna fuck’n cum-gonna cum in you- fuck, fuck, fuck—!“
You both hit your highs at the same time, Dabi accidentally digging your face into the wood as he held you as tightly to him as possible, his cum running hot due to his quirk as he pumped you full, that broken cry of yours like music to his ears, humping you a few times to ride out his climax.
You felt warm and safe, Dabi’s weight a comfortable blanket even with your shivering skin pressed naked into the coffee table. However, the quietly groaning hero in the corner made you quickly come back down to earth.
“Dabi... did you kill him?” Your voice was small beneath him, but he just shrugged.
“Nah, not yet, don’t worry,” He kissed your neck one more time, his thumb rubbing circles into your indented stomach, pulling you off the table and back into his arms.
He pulled out of you and grinned at the sight of his release spilling down your thighs, “Damn...” he whispered, taking in the sight with a satisfied whistle, “C’mon Doll, forget about him.”
You were grateful he carried you bridal style to your bedroom, your legs gelatin at this point, and as he laid you down to rest he grabbed one of your discarded shirts that hadn’t made it to the hamper and wiped down the remains of sex from your twitching cunt before leaving the cum-stained top ignored on the ground.
“You doing good, baby? Didn’t go too hard, did I?” His concern was diminished somewhat by the grin on his face, satisfied with the mumbling, love-drunk form he’d reduced you to.
Shaking your head, you burrowed into the warm blankets, peeking your eyes out from beyond the covers in a way that even Dabi couldn’t deny was pretty cute, “No, just... what are you gonna do with Kao?”
His face was unreadable as he leaned closer, “Do you really want to know?”
Truth be told, no, you didn’t, you were just a civilian, far removed from the complex fight between heroes and villains. You were only in this situation because you’d grown to care about Dabi. In some small, sarcastic way, he’d wormed his way into your life, and he hadn’t hurt you so far, only going as close as possible to bring you over the edge again and again.
“No...”
“Good answer,” he stood up, tucking himself back into his jeans as he went back into the living room. You heard a muffled thud and what sounded like Dabi cursing before he reappeared in your bedroom, Kao’s unconscious body slung over his shoulder. For such a wiry guy, Dabi was pretty strong. Moving to the open window he basically threw Kao’s body onto the outside metal grating, his lungs uneven after carrying him.
Just as he swung his leg onto the windowsill you shot up in your bed, hand outstretched, “Wait!”
He turned back to look at you, genuinely confused as to what you could want.
“Kiss me before you go?”
He froze, then grinned, scoffing at the innocent gesture you gave so openly to a murderer like him. There had to be something wrong with his little villain-in-training to make her okay with it, just like him. Dabi ignored that thought for another day, striding forward and finally giving you the goodbye kiss you’d been denied last time, his tongue trying to map out every detail in case he could ever forget before pulling away with a warm softness to his ocean eyes.
“I think I might be starting to like you, Doll,” A feint rush of color fell on his unmarred skin and you’re sure your heart stopped beating for a good three seconds.
His words were a worn record being played over and over in your head long after he crawled down your fire escape, the teasing, sated haze in his voice hidden beneath a rasp of smoke. You weren’t sure how much he meant what he said, but you’re sure that the first thing you said in return was exactly what he wanted to hear; at least judging from the boyish smile that lit up his face when you said it.
“Come back soon, okay?”
“Okay,”
@effmigentlywithachainsaw @touyasfatcock @thicchaikyuuboys @awritersometimes @chey-the-simp
#dabi x reader#dabi#dabi x reader smut#dubcon#murder#mha#my hero academia#dabi smut#touya x reader#touya todoroki
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peter quill dating hcs
Listen this isn't the smut headcanons
But it's peter quill
There's gonna be some 18+ jokes and content
I will keep this as sfw as possible bc you'd better fucking believe that Peter Quill relationship and intimacy hcs are on their fucking way
So yeah just a prelude
Anyway
Yuh let's get inTO it
Okay two things first
1: I'm so mad there's like no fics for him?????????? Why is he not yet a tumblr sexyman??????? I get the first movie came out in like 2014 so I probably just missed the hype window but for gods sake
2: a lot of ppl think he'd be easily flustered and blushy and that's totally and completely valid
However
Why are we overlooking the whole "I've slept with half the galaxy" thing????????
Like
Okay Peter is a goofball
We know this
And on top of that
He can get it
I'm going to stop myself there so more on that later
He's like 6'2, hilarious, charismatic, so loving and compassionate, fan fucking tastic music taste i could go on for days
I feel like more likely than not you'd probably go from fwb to lovers
Since this is the sfw half we're gonna focus more on the second half
I feel like he falls so hard and fast he doesn't really have time to be like
Oh no I'm falling in love dammit
He's so easily distracted by everything about you that he can't hear that voice going "snap out of it Peter"
Cause he does not want to
Oh my god sit on his lap when he's in the pilot's seat in the Milano
When he's not driving obviously
It's one of his favorite things you do
If you're Terran you bond over earth stuff really quickly
#growingupterran
He's really affectionate
Like really really affectionate
Rocket makes gagging noises whenever you're in the same room cause there's usually some kinda cuddling or kissing going on
Even just loving gazes across the room
Rocket is the voice Peter ignores telling him to snap out of it
Rocket: come on! This is gross! It's gross, right Groot?
Groot, handing Peter a flower to give to you: I am Groot :)
Peter, handing you the flower: thank you Groot, you're my new wingman
Rocket: >:(
Don't worry though, you call Rocket the weapons expert and he likes you suddenly
"What should we bring to the attack?"
"We should ask Rocket, he is the weapons expert"
Rocket, dropping down from an air vent, "DAMN RIGHT I AM"
Rocket gives me Rigby meets Dan from Dan vs energy
When Peter sees you getting along with the rest of the crew it makes his heart so happy
I’d say out of all marvel subunits the guardians have the most genuine found family dynamic
The support between him and his friends is so important to him, so when you integrate pretty easily as part of the group, it means a lot to him
If you’re terran
Which presumably you are
When he first shared his awesome mixes with you you loved it
You checked your phone and realized, very distraught, that you don’t have wifi in space
Luckily you had some music downloaded, so you have like 3 playlists you can listen to
Once you get to a planet with actual reception, you make copies of his mixes on spotify so y’all can shuffle them
He kind of prefers to listen straight through but the variety is nice
And the fact that you did that for him???? His heart goes boom boom
And his peepee goes hELLO
He’ll dance with you a lot
Albeit very shittily
But you both have fun
If you’re insecure about dancing you won’t be for long
Sometimes when you’re dancing he’ll have his hands on your waist
Just staring at you
He’s been from one corner of the galaxy to the next
He’s seen everything
And you still top the charts as the prettiest sight he’s ever laid eyes on
His eyes get all big and sparkly
His brow gets a little furrowed and he has this smirky smile
He lets out a breathy laugh, baffled at how after all the pain and loss and bullshit he’s endured
How someone as
Wonderful
As you came into his life
Man
He just likes spending time with you
And as much of a front as he puts up he will come damn near death to protect you and make sure you’re safe
The only reason he wouldn’t actually die for you is because then he wouldn’t be able to protect you more
But he will 100% sacrifice himself for your safety and wellbeing
Afterwards he’ll cover it up with self aggrandizing humor
“So we’re in agreement… that was so heroic, right?”
Through tears, you’ll clutch him and laugh
“Oh, yeah. Very brave, your medal of valor will be arriving soon,”
He does this to soften the blow of what he did
Both for you and him
Let’s be real, he’s not best with up front emotional vulnerability
He’ll deflect with humor or seduction
But it’s very thinly veiled
When he falls for you you know exactly how much he likes you
Which is a lot
Later during a quiet moment
Maybe you’re falling asleep with his cassettes playing softly
You can tell him not to do that again
How worried you are, how stupid it was, and that you don’t know what you’d do without him
Keep it brief though, he already knows good and well how much it scared you
Most importantly let him know how much how love him
How much you care about him, how much everything he does means to you
And that you’d do the same for him
“Uh, no- no way. The whole point was to keep you away from bodily harm.” He’ll chuckle, half joking, fingers tracing your neck and jawline
“Okay,” you’ll reply into the crook of his neck, “next time, we come up with a plan b where both of us avoid bodily harm. Deal?”
“Yeah,” he’ll say softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “deal.”
Oh god his feelings for you are so overwhelming in that moment
They're swirling around him like a typhoon
He’s so focused on your touch, your breaths, the warmth coming off of you that it just washes over him
All he can do is hold you close
He knows he has no idea what the coming days will bring
But he’ll be damned if you don’t face it side by side
#peter quill#peter quill x reader#star lord#gotg#gotg fanfiction#gotg x reader#guardians of the galaxy#star lord x reader#marvel#mcu#marvel x reader#mcu x reader
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Cuddle Buddies
Pairing: Roommate! Rafael Casal x Reader
Word Count: 2.4k
Warnings: Minors DNI, RPF, angst, cursing, pining, jealousy, suggestive language, butt slapping, fluff! No smut! All errors my own. I apologize if you like the smell of patchouli, lol.
A/N: This is an answer to the following ask from @teatro-dira :
Okay so I don't know if this is kinda weird but like an Rafael x reader were they are like really cuddly(like a lot of hugs, cuddling and stuff) friends and roommates and everyone teases them asking them if they're dating. Then Rafael gets a girlfriend which makes y/n lowkey feel betrayed and jealous, but he doesn't realize that. Y/n accidentally ruins their relationship(you chose how). They get into a fight, but it ends in fluff. Hope you understand what I mean:)
Here it goes! I hope you like it!
———-
A series of unfortunate events led you to this situation six months ago.
You were subletting Rafael’s apartment in Santa Monica when production wrapped a month early on his project in Vancouver. He had nowhere to go, and neither did you, so you agreed to share the space.
You vibed, almost as much as he and Daveed did. Folks began to call you the fourth Muskateer, for as much as you, Rafa, Daveed and his girl were always together.
You all talked, smoked, and created together. You and Rafa especially were always all over each other, keeping each other warm under blankets on the couch, watching movies while you ran your fingers through his hair, in one or another’s bed watching videos, or writing in tandem.
It was all good, cause Rafa was being a man-whore at the moment with several ladies, and you were just chilling. It was dope.
Almost.
It would have been all the way dope, except...
Except for the fact that you were in love with Rafa.
You loved sharing the same space with him, because you could smell him when he just got out of the shower, play in his silky hair, and feel his strong arms around you. And when he wore grey sweats…. Damn. You and your little bullet celebrated every time that happened.
Everyone could tell, except for Rafael. People ragged on you two so hard, that you vehemently denied it every time, to the point of getting heated.
One night, you side eyed the teaser through a cloud of smoke after catching Rafa’s grimace when they said you two should get together. Your mood sank at what you perceived was rejection.
“I would NEVER get with Rafa, that’s the homie. He’s like a brother to me. Ugh. Getting with my brother? No way. We’re just Cuddle Buddies.”
Rafa blinked and then took a toke.
“Exactly, we the homies. Platonic Ride or Dies. It’ll never happen.” He passed what he was holding and then stood up. “Cuddle Buddies till the end.” He sounded disgusted.
“I’m going to go get some food. I’m hungry. What does everyone want?” After everyone yelled out their orders, you offered to come with.
“Nah, sis. I’m good. Gonna clear my head. I’ll be back soon. Rafa peaced out and you sat back down with the crew.
-------
Ever since that night, Rafa seemed a little distant. He was always busy, and never had time to sit and kick it with you the last couple of weeks. You all never seemed to link.
One night, he was home when you came in with groceries.
“Oh shit, I didn’t know that you’d be here!” You put the groceries down on the counter while Rafa was at the stove, cooking up some pasta with marina.
“Mmmmmm. Smells good!” You went and stood very close to him, expecting him to give you a side hug, at least.
He just turned and glanced at you, a smirk lifting one side of his face.
“Will you never learn to keep an umbrella in the car? You always come in soaking wet from the rain.”
Here he was, shaking his head that you didn’t have enough sense to come in out of the rain. How could this talented genius ever want to be with you?
You just played it off, as usual. “I’m starving. I didn’t think I would make it through cooking, but you’re always clutch, Rafa!”
Rafa stood there and gaped at you.
“Uhhhhh… I thought you said you were driving down to the Vista to see your mom… I have someone coming over for dinner....”
“No. She’s decided to go on a cruise to Cabo with her bestie… she just called and told me as she was boarding the ship this afternoon. The hussy. Tryna be fast with her little friends.” You laughed.
“So, who’s coming over? UTK? Wayne? Jimmy?”
You jumped up on the counter and watched as Rafa put some french bread with butter and garlic in the oven. Smelled like heaven. Those guys would definitely invite you to stay.
Rafa wiped his hands on the towel that was hanging on the stove. And turned around to face you.
“Her name is Aurora.”
It was like he’d punched you in the gut. He’d NEVER brought one of his heauxes around. You fought the urge to double over, even though you felt nauseous. When you looked at him, he looked concerned.
“Hey, you okay?”
You jumped down from the counter and quickly nodded your head, laughing weakly.
“I...uh.. Yeah. Like I said, I haven’t eaten since breakfast, expecting to be at dinner with my moms by now.”
You grabbed your groceries, putting them up quickly and grabbed an apple, taking it to your room.
“I’m going to get out of your way in a minute, I’ll go over to Carla’s and hang with her tonight. We’ll probably go out and do what we do, you know?”
Rafa still looked worried.
“Are you sure you’re ok? You need more than an apple. Look, stay…”
“NO!” Your voice was raised and it startled you. “I mean, I’m not one to be a cock blocker. I’ll just get my stuff and get ready to go.”
Rafa just watched as you scurried into your room. Why did you feel like crying? Why did you feel as if you would never breathe properly again? You got out your phone and called Carla.
20 minutes later, you exited your room dressed for the club with your overnight bag. There was a strange smell in the room, and it wasn’t pasta. It was patchouli. You HATED patchouli.
You didn’t realize you were giving the gas face until Rafa came out of the kitchen followed by a short, but cute woman, with a body like, whoa.
Of course.
Rafa glared at you and you fixed your face. That bestie telepathy was on point. Then he looked up and down, as if he were judging your freakum dress. Well, fuck him.
“Oh, hey! Y/N, this is Aurora. Aurora, Y/N.”
Aurora ignored your outstretched hand and went in for a hug.
“Y/N! I’ve heard so much about you that I feel like I know you intimately, just like Rafael.”
You tried to keep your face straight in reaction to her scent, then gave her a sideye.
Was it the inept way she rolled the ‘R’ in Rafael, or the thinly veiled shot at your relationship? Either way, you felt like slapping the shit out of her. You looked at Rafa, but then just cleared your throat.
“And I’ve heard so much about you as well. You’re all Rafa talks about.” He shook his head behind her. “Nice to meet you, but I’m headed out for the night.”
It was then that Aurora saw your bag and brightened up.
“Oh! You do look nice. Are you leaving, you sure you don’t want to stay?”
You could smell insincerity a mile away. Even patchouli couldn’t cover that up. You just smiled at her.
“No ma’am. I’ve got places to see and people to do.” You winked at them as you walked out of the door, holding up your umbrella. “Stay dry y’all.”
You made it out the door without crying of jack slapping that little bitch or Rafa. You were winning.
But why did it feel like you’d lost everything?
-----
You and Rafa successfully avoided one another for days. He was either over Aurora’s or you were with Carla, your mom, or just stayed in your room.
One time you passed Rafa and Aurora on the couch watching a movie on your way to the kitchen to get something to eat. Rafa’s head was in her lap.
You stopped dead in your tracks when you heard Rafa’s slightly raised voice say: “Don't’ mess with the swoop, Babe.”
‘Babe.’ He called her Babe. That’s it. It was time for you to go.
You were cramping Rafa’s style. You just tiptoed back in your room, making little to no noise so that they could watch the movie in peace. You didn’t see Rafa looking at your door after you went in.
----
A week later, you let Rafa know your move out date.
“Wait. What?”
Rafa’s mouth was open. You repeated yourself.
“Well, I’m going to move in with Carla. She’s going to let me ride her couch until this other place comes open in three weeks. It’s a sweet deal, near the studio….”
Rafa’s mind was racing, you could see the gears turning.
“Well… why don’t you just stay here until then, we got a good thing going.” He looked upset. What was up with him?
“Rafa… I’m just in the way. You’ve got Aurora…”
“Hold up, wait. We aren’t even that serious. I mean, I just stopped seeing Bev and Chrissy. He looked at his watch. Last week.”
You laughed at Rafa’s fuckboi ways. “Well, what about me? I might want to date someone and bring them over…”
Rafa’s face changed.
“Bring someone over here…”
But it didn’t sound like an invitation, it sounded like a threat.
It was your turn to stare at Rafa. “What the hell…?”
He straightened up. “I mean, any of your guests are welcome here.”
You sighed and shook your head.
“See what I mean? Things are getting tense, I want us to stay friends, not be tight with each other all the time.”
Rafa grinned. “You said ‘tight.’” He dodged a couch pillow thrown at his head.
“What are you, a 12 year old?” You were rolling. He really was one of your best friends. But you needed space to get over yourself. And him.
“Okay. You grown. But just know that you don’t have to go. And know that I will miss the hell out of you.”
Rafa came over to hug you, and he held you longer than normal, and then kissed the top of your head. You looked up at him, still in his arms and it was like…
You cleared your throat. “Well, I guess I better go start to pack.”
Rafa stepped back. “Ok.”
Both of you hurried to your perspective rooms.
-----
One night, a couple of days later, Rafael came into your room without knocking.
“What did you say to Aurora?”
You were laying on your stomach on your phone, in just your t-shirt an panties. You rolled over and looked at him.
“What are you talking about?”
Rafa wasn’t yelling, but he was keyed up.
“What did you tell her the last time you talked?”
You put your head down to think, then brought it back up.
“I just said that I was going to miss playing in your hair when we watched movies, that I knew it was your favorite thing.”
Rafa nodded, then shook his head.
“Y/N, you’re the only one I let touch my hair. Aurora has barely been allowed near it.”
“That’s…. New.” You were perplexed.
“No it isn’t. Everyone knows I don’t like people messing with my hair. Aurora accused me of having feelings for you.”
You were sitting up now, crossing your arms and standing before Rafa.
“That’s ridiculous.”
Rafa looked like he was about to explode. He threw his hands up in the air and walked out of your room.
“OF COURSE IT IS! RIDICULOUS!” He was really agitated.
“Yeah, I know all too well that you think it's ridiculous for me to want to be with you. I don’t know what makes you think I’m not good enough for you?”
“Good enough for ME? You’re the one running around with all the model/actress types, you’re the one who thinks I’m beneath you. You said so that one night when you said we were ‘Platonic Ride or Dies.’”
“Here we go! Total distortion! Did you hear what you said before I said that? You said I was like your brother. Your brother. You think it’s that disgusting to be with me.”
“I just said that because you made a face when what’s her face said we should be together.”
“I made that face because I was imagining fucking your brains out. It was probably my cum face.”
You stopped and stared at him, mouth hinged open.
“The fuck?” You burst out laughing. “You are mad outta pocket Rafa.” Rafa was rolling too. “But you ain’t gotta lie.”
Rafa stopped laughing.
“Why do you think I’m lying?”
He was moving closer to you. This felt… dangerous. He looked up and down your body, and it was the first time you felt uncomfortable being comfortable around Rafa.
“Because you told me that you wanted to just be Cuddle Buddies a month after you came back from Canada. You drew a line in the sand.”
Rafa shook his head at you and smiled, green-blue eyes twinkling.
“I knew you were too zooted. I shouldn’t have tried to shoot my shot.”
“Run that back for me?” You couldn’t believe what he was saying right now.
“What I said was..I wanted to be Cuddie buddies. Cuddie is… you know…”
He pointed to your crotch.
You looked down, and then up at him again. “I can’t with you Rafa….”
Rafa tilted his head in that sexy way at you.
“Can you really not?”
You were stunned. Rafa continued.
“But I’m serious. When you came back with ‘Cuddle Buddies,’ I thought you were blowing me off and just wanted to be friends. So, I just settled into the friend zone.”
“Do you mean you’re attracted to me? Rafa, that’s funny as hell. You want me for my body?”
Rafa raised his eyebrows at you. “Hell yeah. C’mon girl. You know you’re fine.”
Your cheeks heated up. You stared at him for what must have been a solid minute. The possibilities of this alternate reality where Rafa liked you like you liked him opened up.
“But, Rafa... I don’t wanna be just cuddie buddies.”
“Oh. Ok, Cool….” Rafa cleared his throat and looked everywhere but at you.
“I want your heart.”
Rafa paused when he heard that and his face fell as he moved toward you. He took your arms in his hands.
“Y/N I'm sorry, I can't give you my heart.”
It was your turn to pick up your face.
“’Cause you already have it.”
His mischievous grin made your stomach flip. But you were mad.
“Fuck you, Rafa.” You were laughing with happiness, despite him playing too much.
“Oh, you don’t have to tell me twice.” Rafa swooped down and threw you over his shoulder. “I’ve been waiting six months for that invitation.”
You were trying to kick and scream.
Raa swatted you on the ass, then smoothed his hand over the cheek that stung.
“The more you struggle, the more you’ll be begging me to stop in a few.”
You struggled some more, but he made it to your bedroom and deposited you on the bed. He glared down at you, all sexy green-eyed god.
“Try me, Y/N.”
You reached for the drawstring on his sweats.
“If you insist, Rafael.”
-----
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ASK FRIDAY - CREATE A SCENARIO: roommates trope with Kylo
Due to some last minute room swapping and late registering Reader and Kylo end up in the same dorm but they're mad about it and hate each other (cue intense sexual tension)
Dorm room, Snowed in, evening time like 6
The heater/power has just gone out and Kylo knows a few ways to get warm...only if Readers up for it...
been working on this for FOREVER ANON.
I loved it!
Crushed
TW: NSFW, dirty talk, dom/sub vibes, exhibitionism, kinda fluff, Kylos not that nice and is an entitled man.
Oh yeah, you fuckin’ slut.
Yes-Yes-Yes!
‘M gonna cum all over your fucking tits.
You slapped the wall next to your bed, hard.
“Can you guys keep it down! It’s 1 in the morning!”
Muffled voices came through the paper-thin wall, sounding like bodies moving to the floor. Good, you thought, at least he will get rug burn from the shitty carpet, might keep him from fucking everything that moves.
A hard knock on the wall pulled you from that thought.
“Go read your fucking Bible! I’m trying to get my dick wet!”
“Please!”
“Why don’t you go get fucked!?”
Some giggled came through next, followed by more muffled whispering. You whined loudly, trying to ignore the sounds of him fucking whatever bimbo your dormmate had in his lair. Shoving your face into your pillow, muffling your tears and wails.
You turned on your TV, drowning out the final act of his performance. Fingers poised over your keyboard to file another noise complaint with the RA… not like they ever helped you. The last time they intervened they left with a black eye and broken nose, shrugging for you to sort it out yourselves.
A door slammed shut, you let out a sigh of relief.
At least he wasn’t a cuddler.
You climbed out of bed, tip-toeing to your door to take a peek of whatever slut found her way into his room this evening. The special lady was a new cinderella every fucking week, he didn’t even try to know their names. You heard him admit it once in class to his friends, saying he called them all ‘baby’ so he wouldn’t have to learn.
You peeked out the door, blinking from the harsh fluorescent lighting of your dingy dorm halls. The walls were a screaming white, yellowing from years of shoddy cleaning. You tried to clean your room when you first came to school, but it was too disgusting.
A non-smoking dorm, ha. Everyone smoked, especially your neighbor.
“Shouldn’t you be in bed creeper?”
You jumped at his voice, exhaling harshly through your nose. You steeled your features, caught red-handed looking for his latest prey. Crossing your arms defensively, not that there was anything to hide. You were in your ratty pj’s, they were on sale at Old Navy a few years ago and you never threw them away even though they barely fit anymore.
“If you’re so interested in being a cuck,” he grinned at you, flashing his crooked teeth, “I would love to have you over for an encore, I’m sure you’d love to watch me in action.”
“Buzz off, Ren.”
“Ooo, angry tonight,” he smirked, now stepping out of his door frame. You choked a little at his appearance, no shirt on, basketball shorts barely hanging off his hips. Dangerously low, seriously, if he took one wrong move they would be on the floor. His chest was covered in fresh scratch marks, no doubt from his latest victim, a sheen of sweat glistening under the lights.
Fuck, he was good-looking.
But he was terrible.
“Ahem,” he cleared his throat, daring you to stare back at him.
You gulped, caught again. You were better than that, you were just tired from being kept up since ten with his version of ‘love-making’.
“My eyes are up here cupcake,” he stepped forward. Pushing you back into your doorframe, almost inside your sanctuary. “If you ever decide you want to break your vow of chastity, I’m right next door.”
“Step away from me, Kylo.”
He cocked his brow, “I love when you’re mean, come on. Let’s see if kitty has claws.”
You bared your teeth, fists balling under your underarms, “Not even if you were the last man on Earth.”
He shrugged, backing away from you.
“Deal, bitch.”
You moved to shut your door on him, “Go away.”
“See you in class, bright and early.”
------
When you imagined leaving for college, it was different.
Saying goodbye to your parents, packing your car with whatever small valuables you owned. Determined to make a name for yourself all the way across the country, no friends or family, truly on your own. You imagined everything would be different, the dorm would be filled with new and friendly faces.
RA’s greeting you as you parked outside, giving you a tour and maybe a group lunch with all your floormates. Getting to know each other, maybe even going to some new-student orientation event they planned for the newbies.
Classes were smooth, acing all your major requirements. Professors were kind and ready to help you at any moment, letting your artistic vision flow through your body every morning with your 8 AM yoga class.
But no.
Instead, you registered late.
Your classes all at the worst times, bright and early.
Second rate dorm, COED even… smelly dudes between your single bedroom which would be better defined as a broom closet. Burping and fucking on both sides of you while you tried to study. Your major requirement classes were boring and filled with pretentious art students who thought they were the next Picasso.
Professors didn’t care if you lived or died, only focusing on the bell schedule because they couldn’t control what the freshmen did in their classes.
Your options for clubs were limited, either join a sport or a cult.
And worst of all.
Kylo Ren.
He was your neighbor, signed up late just like you. You actually arrived at the same time, he pushed you down on your ass in the lobby so he could be checked in first. Calling you a clumsy bitch, only for you both to be handed keys to the same floor. Right next to each other, sharing a flimsy wall.
On top of that, he was an art major like you.
And since he registered late, he was in almost every class.
Even yoga!
He took your mat the first day, leaving you in tears in the hallway. He apologized afterward, handing it back to you before storming off to be with his beefy upper-class friends. Any moment he could, Ren would humiliate you. Trying to push your buttons, whistling at you when you had to cross the hallway to the showers. Tripping you when you had your hands full, making fun of you for hanging out with your sparse group of friends.
And when he found out you were annoyed with him making noise, he latched onto it.
One week he decided to recite the entire Phantom of the Opera, just because you mentioned in class that you loved that play.
He did every part, even the musical scores, you could’ve sworn he did it with a megaphone on the wall, just to spite you.
Your parents told you ‘he just likes you, he’s a boy.’
No!
That’s not how people express feelings, at least not healthy people.
Your alarm clock blared on your nightstand, you didn’t sleep so it didn’t bother you. Letting out a heavy sigh of defeat, Ren ruined another night for you, a night you’d never get back. Of precious, precious sleep that you desperately deserved.
Slipping on some plum leggings and a sports bra. No one gave a fuck about your outfit in your early morning class, as long as you went with clothes on. You popped on your headphones, trying to drone out the noise of Ren’s music through the wall. He liked to blast some god-awful music every morning.
Today, it was an old Black Veil Brides album!
You made it out of the dining hall, snatching a muffin for breakfast. Smiling at some guys you knew, waving at your friend Rose as you stormed off to the gym. The cold chill of Winter biting at your nose, it was too cold to not wear a full outfit. But there was no time, with Ren keeping you up all night and classes back to back, you didn’t have time to fuck around with dressing up.
Ren ran in after you, laughing with his friends. Big nose all red from the frost, his hair looked frozen to his scalp, probably showered beforehand. You rolled out your mat, trying to stretch while he bragged about the pussy he got last night. Making a big show of your complaining, saying you were desperate to fuck him based on your whining.
You rolled your eyes when he planted next to you, “Good morning, you ran out in a hurry.”
“I didn’t want to be late,” you sneered, not giving him the time of day, still stretching your back into child's-pose.
“How are we supposed to walk together if you run away from me, cupcake?”
You scoffed, shooting him an icy glare. Despite him grinning at you like the happiest man on Earth, god, you needed to stop giving him a reaction. That would shut him up if you didn’t give him the attention he is clearly lacking from his parental figures.
“Good morning class,” your teacher greeted you calmly, “I hope you’re all doing well. As you all know, this next week is finals week, I’m offering makeup classes to those of you who need to make up some credit hours. We are also hosting some meditation if you need time to relax between classes.”
Next to you, Ren leaned towards your mat, setting his hand right behind your back. You didn’t have to open your eyes to know he was hovering. Ready to devour you like a piece of meat.
“Hey,” he chuckled.
You stayed quiet, pushing back into his arm so he would move. Ren stayed put, purring in your ear, “Did you sleep well?”
“Move off my mat, Ren.”
He smirked down at you, “You seem stressed, do you want me to help by fucking your brains out.”
You shot off your mat, effectively knocking him onto his back. Laughing loudly in a relatively silent room of students trying to center themselves. He grinned from the floor, hands up in the air in defense, “I’m just offering to help you, Jesus!”
“Just,” you pointed in his face, hair falling out of your ponytail. Everyone was staring at you, even your instructor. Shocked you were yelling, you barely spoke in class, at the scariest person in your class.
“Just, leave me alone.”
------
Ren avoided you for the rest of the week, mostly.
Still had his nightly fuck-more subdued though, you had on noise-canceling headphones to try and focus on studying. There were still so many classes to get to, and you wouldn’t be finished until the day before Winter break… you were desperate to get this over with.
You missed your family, the plane ticket itself cost you a whole month of meals.
Of course, you would do fine in your classes, it was just the motivation to get there. Every morning you glared at Ren when he greeted you in yoga, still standing next to you like a menacing shadow.
This morning was no different, only you skipped class to study in the library. Bundled up in your winter coat, long black scarf, hair in a lazy braid, and thermal leggings on. The wind had picked up last night, bringing on an ice storm that wasn’t expected until late next week. You walked on treacherous sidewalks, dodging all the other students who were seeking the warmth of the library.
You settled inside, sprawling your books and laptop on an old desk. Grabbing out a few sketch pads so you could finish up some pieces that were due in a couple hours. Most of your finals in art were ‘unconventional’ which meant the professor wanted to see what you were motivated to work on during the year.
For yours, you had decided to draw the people you saw on campus.
Studying their faces, mannerisms, languages while they were in an organic environment. It was a great piece, and one of your professors was very interested in showcasing it in a show. You were proud, it wasn’t large but it was important for you and you wanted it to be perfect before turning it in.
Your pastels were spread out, fingertips smudged and stained from charcoal, a few lines on your face and brow from forgetting about the streaks. There was this one person you couldn’t finish, it was one of your friends from last week. She was laughing and holding a drink, the expression wide and full of emotion but it was hard for you to capture without her being there.
But you steeled yourself, you weren’t leaving this spot until you finished her.
“You smudged that dude's face,” a low voice rumbled behind you. A finger pointing down at the top left corner, “Stop-don’t touch it.”
You moved to swat the hand away, not wanting some random guy to ruin your piece with their grubby fingers. Recentering yourself, he wasn’t smudged, he was just in the corner so it looked like it wasn’t finished… what did he know, anyway?
“You didn’t draw me?”
Now you stopped, why you didn’t recognize the timbre of his voice was ridiculous.
You let out a long sigh, “Please, don’t touch the canvas, Kylo. It’s not ready, yet.”
The chair that housed your backpack slid out next to you, your things tossed on the ground carelessly before Ren sat. You scooted away from him, he smelled like he just showered. Judging by his wet hair you were probably right… “What are you doing?”
He shrugged, fiddling with one of your notebooks. Flipping through pages carelessly, “I don’t know-you weren’t in yoga so.”
“So,” you gave him a weird look, “You stalked me to the library?”
“There’s no reason to go to yoga if I can’t bother you,” he flashed a smile, dropping it slightly when he saw you weren’t playing back with him.
Silence fell over you both, the only noises the heat kicking in around the scuffling of boots and shoes to face the weather again.
“I like your piece,” he gestured to your work, “For drawing, right?”
You nodded stiffly, not enjoying his friendly tone. Like he wasn’t your demon neighbor who made it his job to annoy you and had for the past four months of your life. Ren shifted again, now leaning on the table with his cheek resting on his forearm. Looking at you with wide eyes, you never took the time to look at his face.
He had very large eyes that betrayed his emotions. Swimming with flecks of auburn, gold, and some streaks of green, blinking slowly as he studied your canvas. You looked away from him, trying to ignore the urge to draw them, how his long lashes rivaled your own. How his skin was freckled with beauty marks, creases from frowning lined his forehead and nose. You could even make out his stubble, some pieces he must’ve missed the last time he shaved.
You went back to drawing, no longer focusing on it. Just trying to understand what was happening, your tormentor was a foot away from you. Breathing calmly like a cat laying in a patch of sun. Hunched over the edge, torso too long to rest like a normally proportioned human being, had he always been this big?
“Wanna get coffee before class?”
“Huh?”
You blinked slowly, not registering that he spoke to you.
Ren leaned off, letting out a big yawn and scratching the back of his neck.
Yes, definitely a cat.
“Do you want to get coffee,” he stared blankly, “Before we head to English?”
You looked down at your mess, then back up at him. Shaking your head softly, voice quiet as a mouse, “No-thank you.”
He exhaled harshly, “I’m not gonna burn you with it, it’s just coffee.”
“No, I’m fine,” you said firmer, “I wanna work on this some more.”
Ren stayed still, probably trying to think of a way to get you to agree with him. You had known him long enough to know he doesn’t like people disagreeing with him. Didn’t have to be a college graduate to see that the man had issues with control, hence terrorizing you all semester. You didn’t want to offer him an olive branch, because he was just doing it as a joke. Probably, waiting until you were calm around him to do something cruel.
You went back to drawing, listening to him get up and leave you. Mumbling something under his breath about ‘trying to be nice’ before walking out. You shook off the awkwardness, not willing to break down and let him do something nice for you, just because he didn’t ruin your final piece didn’t mean he wouldn’t do something in the future.
The day was still young.
------
Oddly enough, Ren didn’t bother you that evening.
Not even a door slam!
You almost thought he was dead, but you saw him in the hallway when you were walking to the bathroom. Wrapped in your robe, caddy in hand, he didn’t whistle or try to touch your ass like he normally did. Just a stale smile before closing himself back in his room.
Not to waste the precious quiet, you went to work packing your bags for your trip tomorrow. Deciding to do a quick load of laundry, your hall was almost empty, so no one would be down there while you waited.
Piling up your hamper, you threw your pj's and slippers on. Remembering to grab a blanket and your laptop so you could hang out down there while you waited.
Your friends back home were all excited to see you, ready to hear all about your time away. The boys you met, friends you made, classes, all that. So excited to get home and see your cat, Gremlin, he was all alone without you. Your mom sent you pictures earlier of him curled in your blankets, saying that he knew you were coming home soon.
Maybe next Fall you could get an apartment, you didn’t want to leave him for another year.
A washing machine door slammed shut next to you, causing you to jump from your perch atop your own. Faced with Ren, who was doing his laundry in his pjs, or his version of pjs. Giving you another tight-lipped smile before leaning against the far wall. Yawning loudly before sliding down the wall to sit on the floor.
You ignored him, turning back to your laptop that was playing a crime documentary. Texting some friends to keep your mind from wandering to Ren and why he was in such a mood.
“Are you leaving tomorrow?” Ren called from his wall.
You pretended to not hear him, refocusing on the documentary, there was something very interesting happening and you weren’t about to miss how they found the killer's shoe prints in the mud just because Ren was trying to talk to you.
Then something was thrown at you, and it smelled awful.
“Oh-my-god!”
You shot off the washing machine, throwing down the offending garment. Ren was laughing loudly, “Chill out! It was just an old shirt!”
“How old was it?!”
He smiled at you from the ground, propping an elbow on his kneecap. One leg stretched out on the tile, you tried to regain a sense of calm, he was just messing with you again. Just take some deep breaths… in-out-in
“Are you leaving tomorrow, after our final?”
You let out your deep breath, sitting back on the washer. “Yeah,” you paused your show since mister meanie wanted to have a tea party. “I have to get to the airport right after.”
He hummed, “Same.”
The washer beeped loudly, echoing in the otherwise empty room. Ren watched you hop off, fixing your shorts which definitely rode up too much. Trying to not flash him your underwear as you bent to move your clothes to a dryer. You cursed when a sock fell from your pile, great.
“How come we’ve never fucked?”
Now all your clothes were on the floor.
Along with Ren, who was staring at you like you were an art exhibit.
You dragged your clothes back to the washer. There was no way you were finishing now that they touched the dirty floor, no one cleaned down here and just because it looked clean didn’t mean-
A whistle, “You good over there?”
“Yup.”
“Okay,” you heard him stretch, popping his joints as he lifted off the floor. You could feel his breath on the back of your neck as he closed in. Almost touching you, no escape, “As I was saying, how come you’ve never let me steal your virginity?”
You scoffed, “I am not a virgin.”
Ren pressed into you, pushing you against the washer now. Grinding his hips into your own, you squirmed, trying to dispel every fantasy flooding your brain. Every night you spent listening to him through the wall, imagining just once that it was you. If he weren’t such a monster, you would have gladly laid on your back and let him do whatever he wanted.
“Nothing?”
You took a deep breath, placing both palms on the top of the washer. Biting your lip as you silently pleaded for him to let you go, but also continue. You could smell his cologne from this close, how it complimented him so well. Mixing in with his dark aura, you wanted nothing more than to spin around and…
Soon you were doing just that, but not on your own violation.
Ren had his hands grasping your hips, thumbs slipping under the fabric of your t-shirt to caress your soft skin. Lips capturing your own, you froze in his hold. Unsure of what to do, a part of you wanted to scream and smack him, but the other part loved the smell of his toothpaste.
He relaxed when you relaxed, your lips still awkwardly locked together. Not opening and allowing for more, but not moving away either. You stared at him, startled to see him looking back at you. Pulling back slightly, you watched his face chase yours. Bringing your lips together a few more times, kissing at the seam.
You felt his tongue flick for entry, trying to pry your mouth open so he could explore. When you didn’t move he finally huffed in annoyance, “I know it’s your first kiss, but you’re supposed to open your mouth.”
You groaned, bringing both hands to cradle his cheeks. There was no way he was going to make fun of you, he initiated this so.
Ren made a muffled noise when you pressed your lips back together. Probably of shock and surprise, because, no. This was not your first kiss, not even your fourth or fifth kiss. Working your tongue skillfully into his mouth, you moaned softly at his taste. Just like you imagined… not that you put much stock into this but… it was wonderful.
Bringing your fingers to the nape of his neck, tugging on his dark brown hair. Just like you always wanted to, whenever he walked past you with it tied in a bun you dreamt of tearing through it. Ren returned your affection in kind, his left hand moving to the small of your back. Fingers dancing under the waistband of your pajama bottoms.
You heard him swear when he felt the lace underneath, nestled between your cheeks. Ren slid a hand over the globes of your ass, moving his hips in time with his tongue. Tasting every inch of your mouth, even growling in approval when you sunk your teeth into his bottom lip.
Petting and groping each other against the washing machines, the sound of you swapping spit barely heard over the rumble of your clothes. Ren had gotten sick of grinding against your hip bone, pulling away from you for a moment. Shushing your pathetic whimpers, he hooked the hand not cupping your ass behind your left knee.
Hiking it over his hip, opening your legs up. Allowing him to assault your center with his straining erection, oh you could picture it now. How easy it would be to just let him slip inside you.
Right here, in the laundry room.
*Beep*
You pulled back roughly, barely able to unsuction your lips from Rens' own. A string of spit connecting your kiss-bitten lips, he looked at you with pleading eyes. Grinding himself against you harder, pulling a few soft mewls from your throat.
“I need to switch my clothes,” you croaked.
He nodded, shakily setting your limb back on the floor and backing away. You watched through your own lust-filled state as he trembled. Walking back to his far wall, a hand cupping his cock through his sweats. Your throat clicked as you took in a much-needed breath, doing what you said you would.
Setting them in the dryer, all the more aware of his eyes watching your every move.
Not sparing him a glance when you sat back on the washer.
Turning on your laptop once again to watch your crime documentary.
Ignoring the throbbing between your legs, his deep breaths, and your shaking limbs.
------
The TV’s at the airport all said the same thing, “Record snowfall this winter, right before the holidays! Experts say that we will be lucky to keep power until it passes. Our friends on the west coast are enjoying a white Christmas, while we’re stuck in the North Pole.”
All flights have been grounded until further notice.
Stuck.
You could barely make it back to your dorm without crashing.
Bursting into tears several times when you realized you wouldn’t be home until it was over. Wouldn't be able to safely leave your dorm room until it passed, leaving you utterly alone.
You had emailed your RA letting him know your bad luck, he let the staff know you’d be there so they would have food and water running still.
But other than that, this was your holiday.
You slipped on the walk up to your room, sobbing loudly in the halls as you clutched your luggage. No going home, no seeing your friends or family, no Christmas dinner, no personal shower, no Gremlin to sleep on your face.
Collapsing on your bed, curling yourself in the multitude of pillows and blankets that adorned it. The room had shitty heating, the entire building had shitty heating. The entire month of December you’d been freezing, and no amount of personal heaters could fix this kind of cold.
You drifted off to sleep after crying for a few hours, letting your parents know what was happening. Setting alerts for earlier flights, anything you could do to get home. You were so tired in fact, that you slept through a power outage. Leaving the entire building to shut down, no backup generators.
And no heat.
It wasn’t until you felt yourself being lifted that you woke up to the commotion.
Squirming in the kidnappers' arms, limbs aching from freezing for a time in your bedroom. The window must’ve cracked open because it was much colder than when you arrived. Your attacker didn’t let you go, growling in your ear to be still.
Dragging you out of the building, towards a car you didn’t notice when you pulled in. With the snow swirling all around, it was a miracle they could see their own vehicle. You were thrown in the front seat, followed by your luggage tossed in the back. You stayed still, every time you moved it hurt, hypothermia. Common in the New England storms if you were foolish enough to be outside…
You about passed out when the driver's side door opened, Ren climbed in. Looking just as frozen as you, slamming the door shut and mumbling something as he started his car. You could’ve cried when the engine turned, heat blasting between the both of you.
“Hands,” his teeth chattered, holding his own out. He nodded for you to do the same, grasping your pink fingers between his own and blowing on them. “Power went out,” Ren took a shallow breath, “I was leaving and I saw your car. You were almost frozen to your bed, the window broke.”
“Th-thank you-u-u.”
Ren cringed at your fingers, slowly gaining back their normal color. “I tried to grab everything I could, like your backpack and luggage. But we can’t stay there, we’ll fucking freeze.”
You nodded, tugging your hands away to curl into your chest. Thankful that Ren had enough sense to grab blankets, stuffing them in your lap from the backseat. You thought about grabbing your phone, but you could barely make a fist so it would do you no good.
“My plane g-g-got ground-d-ed.”
Ren shivered, nodding sharply, “Mine too, my mom got me a hotel room not far from here to stay until the storm passes. So, I’m taking us there.”
“Okay.”
You didn’t say anything else, not wanting to distract him from the treacherous roads. Thank god he had a Jeep, or else you would’ve died. You couldn’t see more than ten feet ahead, less than that when you were on the highway out of the city.
Ren kept mumbling things like it’s okay, I’m sorry, I know it's cold, whenever you shivered and took in sharp breaths. You must’ve been out for a while, to get this bad. A quick look at the clock in his car said you’d been asleep for three hours, who knows what would’ve happened if he hadn’t noticed your car…
He helped you out, more carried you, towards the check-in desk. Too worried you would pass out in the car if he left you for too long, the front desk lady was quick and sweet. Making sure to send up extra blankets and pillows to your suite. Ren had you walk up with him, so he wouldn’t have to carry you and the luggage on separate trips.
You clutched his hand like a child, tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. But he was so warm, it’s all you could think about. All you wanted was to be warm, nodding blindly to whatever Ren said to do.
Plug your phone in, check.
Let him talk to your mom, check.
Draw a bath for you, check.
Climb in the bath with you, double-check.
It wasn’t until you were defrosted in the clawfoot tub that you realized you were naked with him.
Rens chest against your back, holding you like his life depended on it. Judging by his shaking, you both were probably suffering from acute hypothermia. You had been silent for so long your voice spooked him a little, “Thank you.”
He hummed into your hair, which was sitting on top of your head in a messy bun. “Are you okay?”
You nodded slowly, “Can we go lay down?”
“Yeah,” Ren hastily got out of the tub, draining it and wrapping you in plush towels. You were still too cold to blush from your nakedness, not how you pictured this going. You imagined you would finally give into him on some drunken party night, barely remembering his reaction to seeing you nude.
But now he had seen you half-frozen, forced to cradle you back to life.
------
You squinted from your cocoon, greeted by a dimly lit room.
One spare lamp on a dingy-looking nightstand, well it wasn’t terrible. It was better than your nightstand in your dorm room… where was your dorm room anyway?
Something vibrated behind you, followed by a heavyweight sprawling against your back.
You held your breath, you were in a hotel.
With a stranger.
“Shit,” you whispered.
Okay, you could wiggle out of here. You took a moment to study the room, there was the lamp from before, and some curtains on a metal rod in the far corner. If you managed to get out without being detected you could knock out the assailant.
“You smell so good.”
More weight settled on you, now you were trapped. This bear was closing in, who knows what happened while you were asleep! All you could remember was falling asleep at your dorm after the upsetting trip to the airport, then being dragged away.
Your fingers burning when you tried to use them, being shoved in a car…
Kylo.
“Kylo?!”
“Mhm.”
You threw your arms up, successfully throwing him off you and the covers. Your limbs screaming at the sudden movement, you were still suffering from the cold. Next to you, curled in a ball, totally catlike, was Ren.
A sleepy smile gracing his lips, hands curled under his cheek, and legs moving towards his chest, Like a child under a blanket. You gasped when you saw he was naked, “Fuck!”
You were too.
“What the fuck, Ren!?”
“Stop yelling,” you watched his hand bat his nose like an animal, “Come back, you were warm.”
You huffed, flailing off the bed in search of your bags.
Memories flooding back to you, he took you here after saving your life.
The bath.
Ugh, bad time to remember your kiss the night before.
Ren sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes and blinking slowly. You flushed red when you looked between his legs, shit. How does he walk around with that? Is that why he has bad posture? You choked on your spit when he spread his legs out.
Sprawling completely on the mattress like he wasn’t in a room with a stranger.
“Snow hasn’t stopped,” Ren yawned, snapping a hand and pointing between his legs, “Come back.”
“I’m not doing anything until you have clothes on.”
He rolled his eyes, now looking you up and down. Focusing on your bare tits, swinging around with your erratic movements. You watched him lick his lips, wagging his eyebrows, “Come on, don’t you want to sit back on the bed?”
You shook your head, crouching down to your bag. Trying to not flash him more of your goods, but that didn’t work. Not with him leaning to the side of the bed to make a show of him peeping on you.
A wolfish grin splitting his face, “You have a nice ass.”
“Can you stop,” you huffed, tugging on some sweats you found.
Ren made a pouting noise when you stood, pushing his bottom lip out while you threaded your arms through a t-shirt. You shivered a little-it was still freezing in the room. Probably from the weather, it sounded like it got worse… hopefully this place would keep power.
You looked back at the bed, Ren was still manspreading. One of his large paws crawling towards his cock, watching you with the same smirk. He let out a soft sigh when he touched himself, eyes momentarily shutting in bliss.
“Do you have to do that with me here?”
He cracked an eye open, “Do you have to be that far away?”
You scoffed, moving to the corner of the room. Shivering since you were near the window, you plopped down in the cheap armchair. Ignoring the sounds of his fist gliding along his cock, you tucked your feet under your body. Humming a tune to ignore the arousal growing between your legs, there was no way you were caving to him.
What kind of man does that with a complete stranger present!?
More importantly, why was it turning you on?
“Come here,” he whistled, you spared a glance at him. Blushing profusely at the sight, his cock was now fully erect. Standing tall and proud, tip flushed almost purple from want. You quickly looked away, trying to swallow down the drool that gathered in your mouth.
What would happen if you gave in?
Not like it would hurt you… he looked so delicious.
“If I come over there, what's gonna happen,” you whispered, determined to stay put.
With a deep breath, the mattress groaned under his weight, probably leaning back to get comfortable. He seemed to love you being there, watching him, or trying not to. Ren made a small non-committal scoff, “Whatever you want to happen, baby.”
“Don’t call me that, you know my name.”
“Meow.”
Your head snapped towards him, met with his grin. “Come on-you really want me to do this by myself?” he waved his cock, fist tight around the base. You rolled your eyes, training your eyes to focus on the least attractive part about him.
You were coming up empty, all you could stare at was his cock.
The prominent vein along the underside thrumming in time with his heartbeat. You could practically feel it along your tongue, rigid and stiff. Slowly, you stood from the chair, met with a soft whine from Ren. Eying your hungrily as you sauntered over, you planted a knee in the mattress.
Between his legs, which were spread obscenely wide, he licked his lips in anticipation.
“If I help you, are you going to be nicer to me?”
He nodded, chest taking in sharp breaths. You slowly leaned back on your heels, stripping your top off, despite him seeing you naked earlier. Surprised when he bit his bottom lip, watching you play with your tits, rolling them in the palm of your hand. Just to make him squirm a bit, “I’ll be nicer, whatever you want.”
“I’m really cold still,” you spoke softly, making sure to lean in close enough to graze his lips with your own before pulling away, “Can you help warm me up?”
“Yes,” Ren's hands shot out, kneading your flesh a few times. Debating to grasp your tits or the small of your waist, like a kid in a candy store. So many options, but you didn’t want to wait. If you were doing this, it would be about you.
“Eat me out.”
He stilled, cocking a brow, “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” you exhaled on his neck, being sure to drag your kitty claws along his chest. Briefly grazing his nipples, savoring the way he gasped. “Eat me out, if you make me cum, I’ll let you fuck me. Like the desperate slut you are.”
Ren scowled for a moment, nudging your face from his neck. Eyes dancing across your face before capturing your lips, moaning softly in your mouth, “I can make you cum so hard you’ll never want another man again.”
You placed a soft kiss, rolling onto your back dramatically. Splaying your legs wide, “If that's true, why do you fuck a different girl every week?”
He growled at you, actually growled.
Hands no longer soft in their quest to memorize your skin, instead Ren pinned your legs hard enough for them to pop. Making you squeal from the stretch, “How fast do you think I can make you cum? Hm?”
Before you could answer, he dove in.
Lips wrapping around your clit and suckling fast, tongue flicking out every few seconds. You were already bucking up to meet him, but his firm hold kept you flush. While his tongue began to lap thick stripes along the seam of your pussy. Briefly hooking the tip into your entrance, both of you moaning when he tasted your wetness.
“Shit-Kylo!”
“Mm,” his voice vibrated against your clit, continuing his assault until you choked on your spit. You buried your fingers in his hair, keeping him in that right spot. “I’m so fucking close,” you cried out, pleading his name over and over and over.
“You know,” he popped off, smacking his lips that were glistening with your cum, “I’d rather you cum on my cock.”
“Wait-”
Ren flipped you onto your chest, yanking your hips into the air. You barely had time to take a breath before he shoved his cock inside you. His breath hitched as he sank to the hilt, you groaned at the stretch. Now this, this you could get used to.
He pulled out slowly, you heard him swear under his breath. Leaving just the tip of his cock inside and ramming his hips into yours. Pulling a loud scream from your lungs, Ren chuckled at that. Pumping his cock at a rough pace, “Shh-you’re going to upset our neighbors.”
You huffed, cheap shot, angling your hips a little so his cock would rub up against your front wall. Moaning when he picked up the pace, skin slapping skin. Ren leaned over your form, planting a hand on the headboard to keep it from knocking. You weakly lifted your head, clenching at the sight of his knuckles turning white.
All you could do was sit and take it, revealing in the bliss you’d denied yourself for four months.
-------
Ren dropped you both off at the airport two days later.
You spent three days together, fucking each other's brains out.
Choking on his cock while he was brushing his teeth, eating you out while you read through your newsfeed. Bouncing on his cock while he fed you breakfast, you didn’t need to change clothes the entire vacation.
But you wanted to go home and were thankful for the storm ending so you could head home. It was a little awkward, Ren wasn’t very excited about the snow stopping. It felt like he was trying to stall you leaving but reluctantly listened to your desire to fly home.
“Got everything?” he mumbled, hitching his backpack over his shoulder. The two of you were waiting in the TSA line, about to part ways to head home. You nodded, giving him a tight smile before stepping up on your own.
Ignoring the feeling of his eyes on the back of your head.
Both of you stood awkwardly after making it through, “Well-my gates over here,” you pointed behind you. Ren hummed in acknowledgment, kicking at the ground instead of looking at you.
“Thanks for letting me crash with you,” you tried again, still nothing.
You groaned, spinning on your heel. Back to being an asshole, you were kicking yourself for thinking he would be nicer. All he wanted was some pussy, and you willingly gave into him when you should’ve remained strong.
Your parents picked you up back at home, lots of tears and laughs were shared. Thankful that you made it home without freezing, your mom was grateful for your friend who saved your life. She wanted to call him and tell him how much she appreciated it but you shrugged it off, he was just being nice. He wasn’t your boyfriend or anything, you left out the part that he was the neighbor you always complained about.
Collapsing on your bed felt surreal like you would wake up and be back in the hotel room at any moment. It was odd not sleeping next to him, you had grown accustomed to his clingy arms. Circling you in the middle of the night when he thought you were dead asleep, smelling your hair before tucking you into his naked chest.
You tossed and turned all night, groaning when you were woken by your siblings to get up the next morning. Barely sleeping a wink, you resolved to take a nap later to try and not spoil your trip back home.
At breakfast, your mom yelled at you from the kitchen.
“Hey hon, someone’s calling you!”
“Just answer it,” you groaned through a mouthful of cereal. Briefly hearing your mother answer in a typical chipper tone, stalling mid-sentence before she yelled again, “It’s someone named Kyle?”
Shit, you shot to the kitchen.
Snatching the phone and escaping to the living room where no one was hiding.
“Kylo?”
Hey, didn’t think you’d answer.
“How’d you get my number?”
Took it while you were napping the other day, I knew you wouldn’t give it to me willingly.
You rolled your eyes, “Alright creeper, what’s up?”
Just wanted to talk or whatever, felt weird not to.
Silence.
Are you gonna let me buy you coffee when we are back?
“You were being serious about that?”
A scoff.
Yeah-or we could just fuck again if that’s all you want from this.
“Coffee sounds good.”
Cool. Cool.
It’s a date.
-------
TAGGING: @finn-ray-nal-beads @onlykyloscenes @candycanes19 @historyandfandoms50 @caelum-phyriina-vermillon @ghoulian13 @mrs-kylo-ren @millenialcatlady @relationshipwithmybed @dancingmicrobes @wayward-rose @contesa-lui-alucard @daydreamsofren @insufferablelust @ohdamnadamm @mariesackler @caillea @safarigirlsp @jalexunderthestars @shesakillerkween @glassythoughts @zimmermansbrat @not-the-teen-witch @jynzandtonic @roanniom @celestiasin @glassbxttless @cornmousequeen @driversmutbucket @blowthatpieceofjunk
#adamdriver#adam driver#kylo ren#anon asked#create a scenerio#modern kylo ren#college kylo ren#roomates trope
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I’ll Fight For You
a/n: lmao i swear i’m fine, just needed good ol’ kiri to assist me in a v self-indulgent fic. also, sorry for taking forever to write something yoinks
notes: did i read through this after i wrote it? nope. we’re fucking rolling with the audacity of not even a single ounce of beta-ing. requests are open :) find my masterlist here
pairing: kirishima eijirou x fem!reader | genre: angst (w/happy ending) / hurt/comfort | warnings: abusive mother (mental/verbal), a father who doesn’t intervene | word count: 2,018
Your boyfriend was practically vibrating with nerves as he adjusted his hair in the mirror. It was artfully piled on top of his head, his dark roots making a sharp contrast against the vibrant red.
“Ei,” you smiled, “you’re gonna be fine.”
He worried his sharp teeth against his bottom lip, frowning all the while. “But what if they--?”
“They’re going to love you, Ei. Probably even more than they love me,” you joke, coming up behind Eijirou’s monstrously large form. Hero work had been both kind and harsh on him but he made it look effortlessly good. You gently slid your arms around his waist as you angled yourself so that you could still eye his reflection.
“I’m just… worried, is all.”
You cock your eyebrow. “About what, Ei?”
He incredulously meets your gaze through the mirror. “What do you mean, about what?!”
It dawns on you a little bit. “Oh, well, she’s not going to be mean to you, Ei. She knows how to play nice when it counts. And you, good sir, count.”
“That’s not as reassuring as it is worrying, you know.”
“My mother is just a little intense, babe, it’s nothing I’m not used to. Like I said, she knows how to tone it down in front of others. I’m sure tonight will be fine. I probably just exaggerate everytime I whine about her, so she’s probably not even half as bad as I make her sound,” you shrug, leaning more into Eijirou’s side.
“Baby,” he sighs, twisting a little to look directly at you, no mirror this time. His eyes are sad yet firm as if wishing you to understand that there’s no need to defend yourself with him.
You squeeze him tighter before letting go and walking to the door. “C’mon, we’ll be late if we don’t leave now.”
❁
You always forget that you don’t really ever exaggerate your mother’s behavior towards you until you’re around her again. Everything as far as introducing your boyfriend to your parents has been going incredibly smoothly. Your dad enthusiastically engaged Eijirou in hero stories, talking about Red Riot’s most recent media appearance where he was dressed in pajamas and carrying tubs of various ice creams you both had wanted to try when he dropped everything to prevent a construction beam from falling on clueless bystanders. Only one tub of ice cream had survived and luck had it that it was your least favorite flavor combination. Your mother praised Eijirou for his success and his coupling good looks at which she winked, making your boyfriend flush both at the phrase and the uncomfortable comments your mother directed at him. You winced at that, having forgotten to prepare him for the habitual talent your mother had of sexualizing anything, especially if it would ‘embarrass’ her child.
Your mother had made off handed comments throughout the whole night that you seemed to be the only one to pick up on. Your dad might have noticed a few but, as usual, he only looked at you apologetically, never interrupting his wife to stand up for you.
As much as you loved both of your parents and as much as they had their good moments, this fucking sucked.
“--not that she’s any good with that quirk of hers, of course,” your mother snickered as she brought the glass to her lips. You had become a good actor over the years in order to avoid your mother’s bullying over your ‘sensitiveness’, but something about her dismissing your hard work always immediately dismantled whatever mask you had thrown on. To cover what you know must be a crestfallen look, you give a laugh, something that could be called half-hearted at best. Your eyes remained trained on your food. “Oh come on, Y/n, that was funny.”
You chuckled again, hoping to force some genuineness into it. “Yeah--”
“No, it wasn’t,” Eijirou immediately cuts you off, voice straining with anger. You felt your face drain of blood as you noticed how tightly he was gripping his chopsticks. He was fuming. You don’t think you’d ever seen him angry before. The thought scared you. “That was just mean.”
Your mother quirked an unimpressed, subtly pissed brow at your boyfriend. “Don’t be sensitive, Eijirou. House rules: if it’s mean but funny, it’s okay.”
“As long as you get a laugh from it, it’s okay to abuse your child?” He spits at her like venom.
Your mother sets her glass down, eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”
“You heard--”
You slap a hand over Eijirou’s bicep, squeezing so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up bruising. “It’s fine! Nothing I’m used to! I grew up on the ‘if it’s mean but funny’ rule, so it’s fine.”
The look he gave you was of incredulous anger. “No, it is not--!”
“Please, Ei. Please, just--,” you averted your eyes, ashamed of your own familiar defeat. “Just sit.”
Shamefully, you slide back into your seat, nervously smoothing out a napkin back onto your lap. Eijirou still stood beside you, staring daggers at your mother who effortlessly returned it. His fists were balled, the veins in his hands flexing with the effort of restraining himself. His jaw snapped shut with an audible clamp as he resolved himself to sitting back down.
Your dad clears his throat, more so than necessary as if the harder he did it, the better he could dissipate the tension. “Done, everyone?” No one answers him. He takes that as the go ahead to begin clearing dishes, desperately jumping at the opportunity to escape your mother’s impending tantrum. You loved your dad very much but, god, he was nothing if not a coward, always leaving you to fight your own battles. You don’t think you’ve ever won.
Your mother returns her cold attention to you, the ice starting to thicken and your mother’s hollow kindness starting to retreat along with her patience. “What are you even doing to help train your quirk, sweetie?”
Taken aback, you met her gaze. “W-what do you mean?”
“I mean, I don’t ever see you doing anything at all to help. You do realize that training takes work, right? What does it take? It takes--,” your mother trailed off, flourishing both hands to motion for you to finish the sentence.
“Effort--”
“Effort!” She clapped with your word. “It takes effort! And I only want the best for you, sweetheart, which is why I’m just asking what you’re doing. From where I stand, it doesn’t look like you’re doing anything at all to help improve yourself! As your mother, your concerned mother, I’m just looking out for you, sweetheart.”
Your mind is reeling at her words. You so badly want to defend yourself, assert all of the effort that you have painstakingly put in-- but you are reminded of the precise way your mother is able to leech any ounce of power or confidence from you. You would think that was her quirk if you didn’t know any better. “Mom, I am putting effort in, I train almost everyday--”
“Do you really?” Her voice drips with venomous shock. “It certainly doesn’t look like you do,” she gestures vaguely at you, eyeing your body with a vulture’s gaze. “Maybe you should consider morning and night. Oh! And a diet change, too. You know, since the popular heroes have a specific look to them and I just want to make sure that you can fit that. Since it’s your dream to be a popular hero. Like I said, you have to be willing to put in the effort. Oh, sweetie, don’t look at me like that. You know the difficult position I’m in! Trying to encourage you and help you achieve your dreams while not seeming too enthusiastic. You’re putting that stress on me, sweetie, I’m only trying to help.”
It really was incredible how quickly your mother could erase any confidence you had. Normally, you would stand beaming, more than happy to assert yourself and stand up for yourself and others. All it took was a couple words from your mother, and you turned into a dog with its head down and its tail between its legs, fearful of its master.
Your gut sank and hatred swirled throughout your body for both yourself and her as you once again let her have power over you. “You’re right. Sorry, Mom--”
“Do you know where your daughter ranks as a hero?”
Stunned, you both glanced at Eijirou, having almost completely forgotten that he was there. Throughout her tirade, you had felt a tragically familiar loneliness, used to having to defend yourself when no one, not even your other family members, would. Used to always submitting and used to the shame that always accompanied your forced silence.
“What?” She spat.
“I asked if you knew your daughter’s ranking. I just was wondering, is all. It would make sense if you weren’t aware that she ranks in the top 30 since you were asking about the effort she puts in. I would think that that accomplishment -- at such a young age, too, might I add -- was evidence enough of the countless hours, blood, sweat, and tears that she has poured into this. The effort she’s painstakingly put in. You’re right that being a hero is her dream, and she’s a damn good one, too. Saved my life more than once with ‘that quirk of hers’,” he sneered bitterly. “And, on top of that, she’s so beautiful through and through that sometimes it’s all I can do to stare at her in awe. Your thinly veiled shaming of her appearance is never the result of a mother’s so-called difficult situation, only the result of your own insecurities.”
Eijirou suddenly stands, having finally had more than enough for one night. “The only gratitude I will ever have towards you is for bringing this wonderful woman into this world. I hope one day you’ll actually realize how amazing your daughter is and how proud of her you ought to be. Because I am. I am so incredibly proud of her and her accomplishments and the results of her efforts.”
“And who’s to say that I’m not proud of her, Eijirou?”
He scoffs. Eijirou, the kindest, most patient man you know, scoffs in your mother’s face. “Haven’t you ever heard that actions speak louder than words?”
Your mother gapes up at him, opening and closing her mouth like a fish. In that moment, she resembles a fish and you couldn’t be more pleased with that comparison.
“He’s right, mom.” You rise to join him. “I know you love me. I have no choice but to believe it because I think it would destroy me if I didn’t. But maybe someday I won’t constantly have to defend myself to you and you’ll accept the things I say without dismissing them. You always say you admire me most for my assertiveness but you shut me down anytime I use it to stand up for myself against you. And that makes you nothing but a hypocrite.” You stare her down, reveling in the confidence Eijirou gives you in this thing against your mother. For the first time, you are not alone as you fight this battle. For the first time, you have help. And for the first time, you feel like you’ve won. “Now if you’ll excuse us.”
You take Eijirou’s hand and lead him out of the house, leaving your parents to stare after you in shock. As soon as you make it out, cold air hits you like a slap in the face that harshly wakes you from a daze.
“Holy shit, Ei, did I just stand up to my mom?”
He laughs and squeezes your hand. “It was pretty manly, too.” You laugh breathlessly, still in disbelief as you push your other fist against his arm. “And you know,” he continues, “that I’m the best judge of that.”
“That must mean a lot,” you grin, swinging your linked hands between you as you walk further from your parents’ home, feeling the fullness of a good meal and a battle won.
taglist: @samwrights, @mayaoliviee, @luluwiie, @gigglyparker (i thought i would tag you since you commented on the draft that i posted of this, hope you don’t mind <3)
#i'll fight for you#kirishima eijirou x reader#kirishima x reader#bnha x reader#hurt/comfort#abusive mother tw#tw abusive mother#mha x reader#bro this fic lowkey fvcking sucks lmao so sorry that this is the first thing you see from me in a while#like it just feels really rushed which it probably is but it's incredibly self-indulgent and it fulfills my purposes so it's good enough#for me that is
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so good to me [akaashi keiji x reader]
pairing: akaashi keiji x fem reader
genre: smut (18+) with a hint of fluff
warning(s): explicit sexual content, quirofilia, breath play, light dumbification, swearing, fingering, dirty talk
word count: 3.2k
overview: baking cupcakes ends up being a bit more challenging than you’d originally anticipated when you keep finding yourself distracted by your handsome boyfriend’s pretty hands.
It’s almost poetic, you think: the way your boyfriend’s fingers dance along his laptop’s keyboard. Even though he’s sending a rather heated email to a coworker who’s fallen short on his work, you can’t help but find yourself mesmerized at the sight of his long, slender digits tapping away rhythmically, only pausing every now and then to find just the right word to use to purvey his displeasure in an appropriate manner. In fact, you’re so entranced by watching the tendons in his hands shift with each movement of his fingers that you don’t even realize you’ve neglected your ingredient measuring duties until his voice interrupts you.
“Sorry, do you need the recipe again?” he asks, drawing your (e/c) gaze to his slate blue one that glows behind the screen’s reflection on his glasses.
Quickly, you shake your head and brush a strand of (h/c) hair away from your face. “We can start when you’re done. It’s okay.” The small smile that graces your features has him leaning down to peck your temple gently.
“I’ll be done in a minute.”
Pleasant tingles travel down your back at feeling his lips brush against your skin as they form the gentle reassurance he speaks. To busy yourself in a productive manner while he finishes up his email, you wander around the kitchen to fetch any bakeware you see missing from the island’s wooden countertop—including a muffin pan. A glance at the time displayed in sharp, blue lines on the stove reminds you just how much earlier in the day you should’ve started baking treats for the small gathering of former Fukuroudani team members you’d offered to host. Akaashi seems to sense your concern, since he hurries to finish his message before opening the tab with the recipe you intend to follow and washing his hands.
As the two of you set to combining and mixing ingredients according to the cupcake recipe on his screen, you find it challenging to keep your daydreams at bay and your attention on your own tasks. Each time his hands dart into your workspace for another utensil, your gaze follows them and your mind floods with thoughts that quickly become less than innocent.
Every glide of his fingers along his laptop’s trackpad makes you wish they were tracing along every inch of your body instead, setting your skin ablaze with his touch. Each time they wrap around the base of the stand mixer he’s using to agitate a bowl of creamy contents, you feel your throat tighten in anticipation as your mind conjures hazy memories of his gentle pressure around your neck. His occasional—and almost curious—grazes of the veins beneath the fair skin on his arms remind you of each time you’d decorated them with small crescents as you clutched onto him while feverishly chanting his name. Watching him work is both delightful and maddening.
And it becomes even more of a challenge to slow your racing heart when you notice his fingers dip into the bowl of frosting he’s whipped up to collect some on his fingertips. Experimentally, he tastes his creation, the thoughtful expression on his features soon easing as he gives it an approving nod. Upon noticing that your full attention is on him, he gestures towards the bowl and offers, “Try some. See if you like it.”
Your heart flutters in your chest as you suggest, “Could you get some for me? My hands are all covered in flour.”
For the record, they’re not, and your observant boyfriend knows this, but entertains you anyway. It’s almost shameful, the way your mouth begins watering when his fingers drag through the fluffy, white topping to gather another dollop on the tips, but you can’t help yourself. Not when you know just how much sweeter the sample will taste when delivered to you by his digits rather than your own. He seems to understand at least a sliver of the thoughts racing through your mind, since he utters a gentle command that brings your thighs together beneath the cover of your apron.
“Open.”
Obediently, you let your jaw slacken so he can move his fingers between your soft lips to spread the sugary frosting across your tastebuds. His unwavering gaze narrows ever so slightly when you move your face closer to his knuckle, taking the entirety of his two fingers into your mouth and dragging your tongue along the smooth expanse of his skin. That quiet groan you can barely hear rumbling in his throat is both a warning and a challenge—letting you know that you’re playing with fire but also questioning just how badly you want to get burned. Solidifying your decision of wanting to play this teasing game with him, you suck on his fingers with enough pressure to create a loud pop when you remove them from your mouth by pulling away.
Judging by the low tone in his voice when he speaks, your intentions have been made crystal clear and he’s not going to let you get away with what you’ve done. “I should’ve known, huh?” You furrow your eyebrows in slight confusion at his words, but he elaborates, “With the way you’ve been watching me since before we even started baking. So simple-minded, sometimes, aren’t you, baby?” A gentle tap against your protruding lower lip brings your attention to the fact that you’re pouting, and you quickly take it between your teeth. “Can’t even do something as easy as following a recipe for cupcake batter because you’re too busy thinking about making a mess all over my fingers. Is that right?”
Your breath hitches in your throat when his palm moves to the side of your neck, just beneath your jawbone. “Keiji,” you whimper softly, feeling unbearably hot under his touch all of a sudden. His cool thumb tracing over your warm skin hardly provides any relief, and only intensifies the temperature of the heat pooling in the pit of your stomach.
“Finish up,” he commands gently, placing his other hand on your hip to guide you back towards the bowl of ingredients you’ve yet to finish mixing. He grabs the hand mixer resting on the counter nearby that you’d taken out earlier before placing the device into the palm of your slightly quivering hand. At your hesitation, he urges, “Go on. I would hate to have to tell everyone that dessert wasn’t ready because my girlfriend was too distracted by wanting me to fuck her stupid on my fingers, of all things.”
Another pitiful whine escapes your mouth, but you turn the mixer on and place it in the bowl in front of you to complete the task you’d originally set yourself to. The sensation of his fingers ghosting along the exposed skin on your neck before making their way down to your hips and holding onto them firmly from where he stands behind you makes your core ache. His warmth against the entire backside of your body has you using every fiber of self-control to prevent yourself from abandoning your job and throwing your arms around him. However, you know that no matter how much you want him, he won’t feed into any of your desires until the contents of the bowl have been poured into the muffin pan and safely tucked away inside the warmth of the oven, so you diligently work on taking things one step at a time—since that’s all you can muster, anyway.
“Good girl,” he praises gently when you finish mixing, his breath falling on the shell of your ear, “You always work better when you’re told what to do, don’t you?” Silently, you nod. Both of you know that your intelligence is much higher than he’s currently giving you credit for, but you love the pleasure you reap from assuming the role of his dumb, little girlfriend in situations like this. Pretending as if you didn’t know better or couldn’t perform without being told what to do always gave you a bit of a thrill—which he knew all too well. He didn’t mind, since he had never been a stranger to assuming control.
“In the oven for twenty minutes. Be careful not to burn yourself, sweetheart.”
His gunmetal gaze follows your figure as you shuffle over to the oven to pull it open so you can slide the tray into its warmth. Once you’ve set it to bake for the appropriate time, you untie your apron and pull it off over your head before grabbing one of his hands and leading him towards the bedroom. However, his refusal to budge takes you by surprise, and you nearly stumble backwards when your movements are stopped.
“Keiji,” you huff, “the rest of our friends are gonna be here soon.”
In an instant that happens too quickly for you to be able to process anything, you’re being pulled towards him moments before you find your back pressed against one of the walls in the kitchen. Your (e/c) eyes are wide with shock but clouded by a thin veil of lust as you stare into his own, which you find are watching you as calmly as ever. “I know,” he states, “So why don’t we take care of things right here, then?” Though his words are phrased as a question, the intonation of his voice along with the way his hand is slowly sliding up your shirt reveal otherwise. He’s not asking.
The intensity of his gaze makes your heart pound erratically against your ribcage and draws you closer to him in spite of his strong presence keeping your back flush against the cool wall. After he brings his face down towards yours to capture your lips in a gentle kiss, it’s hard for you to keep track of everything that happens next. His fingers dancing along the expanse of bare skin from your waist to your lacy bralette beneath your shirt has you melting into his touch, and his passionate kisses are soon taking your breath away. His fingertips skimming over the dainty fabric separating them from your nipples makes you squirm and tighten your grasp around him.
“Come here,” he whispers, placing his arm around your back and guiding you into the center of the kitchen. Grabbing one of the chairs at the other side of the island, he drags it behind him so he can take a seat and beckon you to do the same. When you sit down on his lap facing him, he shakes his head and insists, “Turn around.”
With your back to him this time, you slide back onto the seat, perching between his legs. As his hands work their way up to your breasts, sliding underneath the lace so they can cup your soft, plush skin and roll your nipples between his fingers, you let out a soft moan and focus your gaze on the warm glow of the light inside the oven just a few feet away from where you’re sitting. In the faint reflection on the smooth surface of the glass, yours and Akaashi’s forms are barely visible, and you can’t help but watch as he slides one of his palms along your thighs, pausing to give them a firm squeeze every now and then.
“Please, Keiji,” you breathe, placing your hand over his and guiding it to the waistband of the lounge shorts you’re wearing, “want your fingers inside me.”
He hums, “I know you do, baby,” as he toys with the elastic before pushing it away from your hips and down your legs as far as he can reach. You hear a small chuckle bubble in his throat when you hastily rid yourself of the garment, leaving only one more layer between his long fingers and your aching core. “It’s all you’ve been thinking about. It’s all you can think about.”
You nod in agreement, desperate to do or say anything that’ll get him to move with just a bit more urgency to alleviate your discomfort. Heat spreads across your skin in a powerful wave when his other palm comes to rest on the base of your throat. His fingers slowly making their way up and around your neck, gently pulling you back against his chest while his other digits toy with the edge of your panties makes your pussy throb needily. Before you can beg for him another time, though, he’s dipping beneath the flimsy material to trail his fingertips from your already soaking entrance to your clit.
A loud moan of appreciation echoes from between your lips as Akaashi presses his to your jawline. “Take your panties off for me.” His command has your own fingers skittering down to your hips to shed the material as quickly as possible and you ignore the rush of cold air you feel between your legs at being fully exposed. The reflection in the oven’s window is too unclear for you to tell if he’s watching you the same way you’re watching yourself, but, in the bright lights of the kitchen, you can see your slick shining on his fingertips as he spreads it along your sex.
Your small whimpers and mewls begin steadily increasing in volume as he slides his index finger over your pearl in short, tantalizing strokes that leave you wanting more. And while he enjoys every sound that leaves your mouth, littering your skin with gentle kisses as encouragement, he tightens his grasp around your throat, restricting your airflow in the gentlest manner possible. It’s clear, after your countless experiences with breath play in the bedroom, that he knows exactly how much pressure to use to keep you safe and comfortable, yet make you feel restrained and excited.
As he digs his digits into the tender skin around your neck, your cries of pleasure become more labored and your chest heaves with deeper breaths. He’s careful and understanding of your body, loosening his grip slightly whenever he feels the muscles surrounding your throat straining too excessively, and tightening it again when he hears more of your desperate pleas. Safety and respect for you are always his first priorities, no matter what games you’re playing or kinks you’re experimenting with, and knowing he’ll always take care of you is what makes you melt into his arms and clutch onto him tightly as he pleasures you.
“Keiji!” Another cry of his name rolls off your tongue when he finally plunges his fingers inside of your hot core, which welcomes him with a wet squelch. Each thrust of his digits into you, edging them closer and closer to your most sensitive area has you moaning unabashedly with desire. “Faster, please!” He ignores your request and continues sliding them in and out at a controlled speed. “Please, Keiji, I wanna cum. I want you to make me cum,” you plead with an exasperated exhale.
Without warning, the hand on your neck releases so he can shove his fingers into your half-open mouth, making you squeal with surprise. “It looks like you forgot that you’re only allowed to take orders, not give them, silly girl,” he murmurs, pressing his mouth against the shell of your ear so his voice is the only thing you can hear, “Who’s in charge right now, hmm?”
With his fingers depressing your tongue and quickly filling your mouth with saliva, you slur out his name as best as you can. The proximity of his face to yours makes you hyperaware of each breath and utterance that leaves his lips, as well as the heat they send skittering across your skin.
“That’s right,” he answers, “So, be a good girl and let me make you feel good, okay? Promise I will.”
He takes a soft sigh and lack of complaints from you as a sign of you relinquishing control to him once more and pecks your temple tenderly in response. As he continues pleasuring your needy pussy with his fingers, those he has in your mouth muffle the cries you utter in response to the sensations that you’ve been craving all day. It’s not long before you notice your own saliva start trailing down his wrist, glittering in the lights above as you as it leaves a slick path along the soft ridges of his veins and tendons in its slow-moving wake. His thumb pressing against your sensitive clit as he kneads the spongy region inside of you with his index and middle fingers returns you to the moment once again, and your breathing gradually becomes more labored as you grind your hips against him, desperate for release.
Soon, a rush of euphoria overtakes your body as you finally fall apart at his fingers alone. He lightens the pressure he’s exerting on your tongue just enough for his name to be fully formed when it leaves your mouth in breathy cries, since there’s nothing he loves more than hearing it chanted like it’s the only word in your vocabulary in the heat of your orgasms. He hums with contentment into your neck, nipping gently at the skin there as he lets you use his fingers to ride out your high.
You’re barely allowed a moment of rest following your release before the timer for the oven beeps harshly, bringing you back to reality more abruptly than you would’ve liked. Slowly, you close your legs, and Akaashi keeps his hand nestled in your warmth for what feels to be a long stretch of time before pulling it away from your sensitive core. A lighthearted chuckle echoes from his mouth when he tries to move only to have you slump against him and whine with indignation.
Before he can speak, the sound of the doorbell ringing alerts both of you to the arrival of your guests, and your gaze darts to him, then to your shorts and panties strewn across the tiled floor. “Of course, they decide to be right on time today, of all days,” he growls, placing his hands on your waist to help you stand up so you can make yourself decent.
“Kou’s probably excited about the cupcakes,” you giggle as you slide the discarded clothes back up your legs while Akaashi washes his hands. Once you’re dressed, you approach your boyfriend and give him and affectionate kiss that he returns appreciatively. Another chime of the doorbell forces the two of you to pull away so that he can retrieve the cupcakes from the oven and attend to your impatient guests. “Need help with anything?”
He smiles sweetly but answers, “Not now. You can go ahead and get ready,” before giving you a gentle pat on the rear to send you off down the hall.
“Hey, Keiji?”
“Yes, my love?”
You bite your lip before suggesting, “Once everyone leaves tonight, how about I put on that cute lingerie set you got for me and wait in the bedroom for you on my knees?”
“Fuck, baby,” he breathes, “I would love that.” As you prance down the hallway to the bedroom while he approaches the front door, the words you hear him add in a hushed tone make your heart flutter in your chest: “Always so good to me.”
treat me to a coffee! ⭐︎ kinktober masterlist
taglists (see pinned post on my blog for form)
general: @dinablossom, @newfriendjen, @devlovesramen, @ohbyunhunn, @aftcrlust, @mister-future, @kyleclxin, @kac-chowsballs, @osamusmiya
akaashi: @why-aminot-dead, @lotsoffandomrecs, @atsunakaashi, @heyhinata
#ahkaahshi gets wild#akaashi keiji x reader#ahkaahshi's mini kinktober 2020#haikyuu smut#akaashi smut#akaashi x reader#haikyuu x reader#x reader#reader insert#haikyuu fanfiction#tw breath play#tw dumbification#fran writes hq!!
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First Section of Chp. 25 - "Heavy Metal Lover"
Hey, all. Writing on "Divergence" and "Heavy Metal Lover" is already going well. Able to provide the first section of chapter 25 of "Heavy Metal Lover" here for you all. Will likely match my accidental posting schedule of Monday/Tuesday next week.
Previous chapters/full story (rated Explicit): https://archiveofourown.org/works/31672202/chapters/78384827
Title: The Book, the Bombshell, and the Boiling Point
CW: Sleep deprivation, implied but not graphic sexual content, breeding kink, brief mention of needles/injectables (not used)
The wobble of his feet made his eyes stutter open before closing again.
His creations - Haulers and Eins - groaned around him.
"Bett..."
"Ja...ja...bett..."
"Mutter? Mutter...bett...papa..."
Hand coming up almost out of instinct, Heisenberg swayed and buckled with sleep dragging his eyelids down like weights. When his hand met with his face, he concentrated as much energy as he could in shocking himself.
With his body and his powers, it simply stood as a more effective version of a slap.
"Fuck. Don't do that. Gotta fix the line...salvaged what I could...now...now the production...fuck...production line..."
"Mutter?" groaned an Eins.
"Shut the fuck up," grumbled Heisenberg.
Dropping that hand with every intention of getting back to work, Heisenberg frowned at himself when he realized the shock had roused his cock.
Don't do that...don't think about...haven't...since that morning...
One of the most wonderful and most wounding mornings of his entire existence. The morning Lucky had unlocked a world of secrets for him. The morning he slammed that world shut - locked her out - and focused every moment and amount of energy into the two things that filled purpose into his chest.
The factory.
The woman of the factory.
"You're so...I need to tell you...I need to tell you how beautiful your eyes are and I need you to hear me...hear that I'm not...I don't know what you thought...but you've got the most magnetic eyes and-"
Genuine. She sounded so genuine in that moment.
Clenching and blinking his eyes, he burrowed a hand onto his face in another failed attempt to wake - to stay.
"Good...good...just like that...look so handsome when you come. So, so handsome, Heis."
Heisenberg hadn't even seen her face when she reached her peak. Would never know how that lovely face loosened and lost itself to pleasure.
But that? He could endure.
He could endure it because he knew that knowing - knowing the rawest of her beauty - was far crueler than never knowing at all.
The knowing...the expression of his desire for her body...that was easy enough to quench. His hand would be a poor substitution, but a substitution nonetheless.
It was the kiss...the lips so tender against his own...the intent so masked yet so filled with affection.
That...that he could not endure not knowing.
So he did not dwell there. Did not allow himself to linger on the most precious of that morning's many firsts. He focused, instead, on their bodies intertwined. To him, he could imagine. Could imagine her so well. It was the exact same reason Heisenberg could swallow his want and his wishes for more. More of her, more of that morning together.
The village remained a lonely place for decades on end. He had seen - firsthand - the couples sneaking behind the church and into the woods to fulfill carnal desires. At the time, the displays were vulgar. Pointless people in pointless pursuit of a pointless and pitiful passion. A distraction from the veil that was Miranda's manipulation of a happy, wholesome home.
But now? Now those same images - vague and short and snipped through trees or fences - served as his only guideline for what could have been.
Thoughts of his body leaned over hers in a merging of flesh contrasted so wildly from Heisenberg's mutation - almost cruelly so in every way possible. Not only due to pleasure instead of pain, but of him sharing that pleasure with Lucky, of highs so divine as to drown in them.
The horror - the fear and the shudder of his heart - remained the same in both situations. Both because of their proclivity for pain.
Yet only one kept worming into his brain.
Lucky beneath him wearing only that wanting look in her eyes.
Eager thrusts. Skin on skin. That softness...that impossible softness that no science could explain.
The bed...the sheets that only existed custom made for the Dimitrescu castle. The glints of gold and silver and gems...the reminder of his thievery. Every invitation to the castle taken. Every slip of his fingers over any and everything most valuable to pilfer and sell.
Everything. Everything and anything.
If he still had one to give, Heisenberg would sell his soul to meet that mountain of debt to set her free.
"Please...please...Karl...want...need you...need something to remember you by..."
The twisted desire. The most damnable thing his mind had ever lingered upon. The worst of his many sins.
"You gonna take me, Lucky?" he panted. "Gonna get full on my brat? Have two stowaways for that fat fuck to carry? Huh?"
"Uh-huh..."
"Look at me...don't you hide those beautiful eyes from me...I need to hear...need to know for sure...you want a child. I know you do. So have mine."
She moaned. "Yes."
"Yes? Don't fuck with me, baby..."
"Yes, Karl. Yes. Want your baby. Please. Fill me up."
And he would...again, and again, and again.
He would never see her belly grow. Never hold her hand and steady her in the hour she needed him most. Never hold a creation - their creation - in his arms.
Never have the chance to screw up the kid like he had been screwed up.
What fault could there be? What harm? In giving Lucky - determined and persistent and kind Lucky - what she so dearly wanted without allowing that witch to harm her or harm the child of their...his love?
Nothing prevented it...logic itself made it sounder than sound could be.
Lucky would be the most amazing of mothers. Just like his own or how he liked to remember her, at least. Compassionate and kind yet never backing down. Willing to bend but not willing to be broken.
And if he worked hard...if he worked nonstop...if he worked and grinded to the bone and the metal within that bone...he could be free.
Freedom...freedom and something he had never considered before in all his years of wanting it.
A place to go with that freedom.
A family to welcome him home.
Another shock to his face had him practically roaring a scream to wake.
The Soldats around him lingered and lurked. Like scared children.
"BETT! PAPA...BETT!"
"MUTTER! MUTTER? PAPA..."
"SHUT UP!"
The rage ripping through his throat twisted with the electric overload of his body meant that everything around him - the Soldats and the lumbering lines of the factory for miles on end - came to a complete and utter standstill.
A ring in his ears and the sound of his own panicked breaths were the only noises in the world.
In this part of the factory - on ground zero of the explosion - he had yet to have a chance to replace the floor.
So he fell to his knees into a rush of dirt and dust before his hands followed suit and he laid awkwardly on the ground and his belly.
As long as his powers would hold, he could get some sleep before the Soldats woke again.
Five minutes?
Ten?
Whatever it would be, it would need to be enough.
Lucky would be waking soon and with her the need to administer more injectables. Injectables that were multiplying the eggs inside of her body in preparation for Miranda's disgusting display of what Heisenberg wanted despite the impossibility and the imposition on Lucky's own desires.
A child.
Their child.
A Heisenberg beside himself not only alive, but thriving.
Don't...don't do that...to her...she doesn't want that...doesn't want me...
The last of his blinks kicked grit into his eyes that he had little will to fight with slumber dragging every ounce of his strength away.
But that's okay...can just remember her...remember that morning...I'll see you soon, Mein Schätzchen...
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