omg…. fucking flight overhead containers completely full. i also managed to change my seat from being not in front of wing to directly over wing in attempt to NOT be directly over wing.
guy who only thinks about AI art thinking about annihilation: wow getting a lot of GAN vibes from this......
natasha romanoff smut? nothing specific shes just so gorgeous 😭
pairing: natasha romanoff x medic!fem!reader
warnings: smut, kissing, oral (r receiving,) fingering (r receiving,) cocky!nat, an attempt at banter, bad writing.
author’s note: somehow this ended up being rushed even though it took a million years. blame my teachers—i’m pretty sure they’re trying to actually kill me with homework.
“one of these days, you’ll be able to get through a mission without my help.”
natasha laughs, and you shoot her a glare as you’re pressing band-aids into her cheek. she has no major injuries this time, just minor abrasions. shallow cuts. bruises.
“if i had a nickel,” you say, smearing ointment on a deeper cut on her jaw and then applying a band-aid over it, “for every time you avenger assholes called me for something entirely unnecessary, i would be on a goddamn yacht and not at your beck and call.”
“maybe i like seeing your pretty face,” natasha replies with an exaggerated wink. flirting with you seems to bring her such particular joy because of your sardonic reactions.
“you’re a bastard,” you grumble. “you can’t apply your own bandaids?”
“you do it better than i do.”
you roll your eyes, and lean back, dropping the spare supplies that are out into your bag. natasha blinks once and runs her fingers over her face. she grins, and looks at you.
“thanks, detka,” she says with a wink.
“next time you call me and you’re not actively dying, i’m going to let you go to voicemail. i’m going to look at my phone, say, ‘oh, it’s natasha,’ and i’m going to fucking ignore it.”
“one of these days, you won’t be around, and i’m going to die a terrible, tragic death.”
“and i’ll go to your funeral and bring you the ugliest goddamn flowers, and i will laugh.”
natasha sighs dramatically. “you wound me, detka.”
“i sure as fuck hope not. that would defeat the purpose of my job.”
natasha shakes her head helplessly, and grins at you again. damn that stupid grin. damn her stupid, sparkly eyes. you roll your eyes, looking away as you wipe ointment off your hands.
“can you check my temperature?” she asks. you glance at her. she raises an eyebrow. “i feel warm.”
“usually, if you have a fever, you’ll feel cold,” you reply, reaching and resting the back of your hand on her forehead. she does feel warm. you reach for your kit again, intending to find the thermometer.
natasha catches your hand as you pull away, bringing you back to her and resting your hand on her cheekbone. she presses your palm to her lips, her eyes flickering up to yours, unreadable from below her lashes.
warm static arcs up your arm from your palm, and you find you suddenly can’t breathe properly. natasha’s flirting was never something you took seriously; she seemed to flirt with most anyone, if she could. and yet…
“got something to say, detka?” she asks archly.
you look at her for a moment; at her lips, at her eyes, at her hair, at her collarbone, and back at her again. you look at her, and you feel like you’ll never get tired of looking at her, not ever.
“yeah, i do have something to say,” you say, finding your voice again. “why kiss my hand when you could kiss my lips?”
natasha laughs, and takes that as the invitation it is. she pulls you down and kisses you. slowly, gently. she’s barely there at all—and yet she’s everywhere, a shudder of warmth under your skin and filling you up like a cup of cocoa on a cold day.
she lets out a breath, and kisses you harder, drawing you closer by the back of your neck. she tastes like—like natasha, like everything she should taste like, and she’s so warm, all tongue and lips and teeth. she kisses you over and over and over again, like it’s all she’s wanted to do and all she ever will do.
when she breaks, it’s like she’s taken all the breath from your lungs with her. you open your eyes to gaze at her. she looks back, with all the love in the world in her eyes, and kisses you on the very tip of your nose. you let out a startled laugh, the embarrassing, unexpected kind that bursts from your sternum and makes you crinkle your nose.
she leans down and seals her lips against your neck, right where it meets your jaw, and your eyelashes flutter. you feel a thousand times more sensitive, more warm, like you’ve had an entire bottle of wine or like you’re under an aphrodisiac. but that’s just her. that’s just what natasha does to you.
she kisses your neck again, shifting downwards, and grabs your shirt lightly. gently. questioningly. she looks up at you, asking without asking, and you nod quickly. she pulls your shirt off your head, and her lips are everywhere she can reach—your neck, your collarbone, the swell of your breast, down, down, down—
she hesitates at your jeans, thumbing the button questioningly, and glances up at you. you nod fervently, and help her pull them off you, your underwear soon following. natasha parts your thighs with ease, and ducks down until she’s level with your cunt.
cold air parts her lips, making you shudder and gasp, and she leans in and laps lightly at your clit. arousal and pleasure spike up your spine, and warmth blossoms up your lower belly, running feather light touches all over your body.
she presses her pinky inside you first, and you moan, shuddering in on yourself slightly. she lets it just sit for a moment, letting you adjust, and then curls it slowly, before she pulls out completely and adds her ring finger. you can’t really stifle the embarrassing noises falling from your lips, and you’re half afraid if you move everything will fall apart like a dream.
this isn’t a dream, though—natasha feels warm, and soft, but real, and living. her fingers inside of you—pumping and thrusting—are real. very, very real, tugging threads of warmth and pleasure in your body like an instrument.
you lose yourself in a haze of pleasure and warmth, the seconds ticking past both in a slow drag and in a rapid pulse, falling in time with your heartbeat. you can feel yourself getting closer and closer, gradually at first and then faster, and then faster, and then you’re so damn close—
“tasha—” you say, your voice cracking somewhat embarrassingly. “i-i’m—really close—”
“good,” she purrs, “cum for me, then, detka.”
natasha crooks her fingers one more time, and with a shaky sort of groan, you cum on her fingers. you gasp and shake all through it, and squirm off when the high fades and the pleasure starts to burn.
“i love you,” natasha says, as if she hasn’t been saying with with her eyes and her body and her touch this whole time. “did i tell you that?”
“in a way,” you reply, pulling her to kiss you again. “your turn?”
“nah,” natasha replies, shrugging. at your questioning look, she shoots you a smug grin. “you help me out a lot. figured it was time to return the favor.”
early birthday present. || bradley "rooster" bradshaw x f!reader.
Bradley has a secret. One that causes him to hide his phone, and take late night calls. Fortunately, it's not what you firstly think.
Drabble. Boyfriend!Bradley. Fluff.
Word Count: 1.1k
WARNINGS: Tinge of Angst. Suspicions of Infidelity (But No Actual Cheating). Some Curse Words.
MASTERLIST || TAGLIST
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So, at first, you're almost entirely certain that he's not cheating on you.
It wouldn't be like Bradley. His mom had raised him to respect women too much, and you knew that well. It still didn't always stop that small, trifling doubt from rearing its head every so often - with increasing frequency.
After all, the voices of others are hard to ignore; as is the stereotype that military men always cheat.
But still, he's definitely being secretive.
A few months ago, he took a phone call at midnight, and has been hiding his texts from you ever since. Confused, you tried not to let on that you noticed. Didn't want to clue him in case something was actually afoot, and avowed to keep an eye on him.
So today, two days before your birthday, bitter disappointment forms a hard lump in your throat as you slide your cell back into your pocket. Tears are collecting in your eyes, glimmering along the edges. Chest aching, you reach up to brush them away just as they spill from your lids and onto your cheek.
It's the final nail in the coffin; you've checked in with Maverick only to find that Bradley was not with him at the hangar. Which, of course, was the place that he'd told you he'd be for a few hours today. So, when he comes home you are seated on the sofa.
A glass of wine is clutched in your trembling hand, and everything inside of you tries not to shake enough so it spills. Outside, the front door opens. The sound very nearly makes you lose your nerve entirely.
Out in the hall, the creak of a floorboard is painfully audible. A tight swallow constricts your throat. Next moment, Bradley appears in the doorframe. There's an odd glint in his eyes; expression slightly nervous.
It's painful. Your chest aches at the sight of him. He's so handsome that it truly hurts to look at him right now.
Catching sight of you, his lips pull up into a tentative smile. "Hey, babe. I missed you today." There's a box in his hands. His knuckles are strained as he grips the handle, throat clearing before he speaks again. "And... Well, I've got a confession."
God. All that you can think is 'don't cry.'
"I know," you answer, hiding your distress in a deep swig of wine.
Across the way, Bradley's brows skyrocket. "Really? Shit." A frown creases his face, rolling his lower lip between his teeth in disappointment. "Well, damn. I really thought I'd kept it a secret."
"Are you serious, Bradley?" Indignation spills from you before you can stop it. "That's all you have to say for yourself?!"
Underneath your tightening grip, the glass stem almost threatens to shatter. You have to fight the urge to hurl it in his face. But then, Rooster offers that disarming smile, and holds out the box.
"Guess it's out of the bag now." A faint scratch sounds from inside. Confusion ripples through you, head tilting to the side, and some of the anger falters. "I know I should have asked first, but I wanted her to be a surprise." It's only now that the holes poked in the cardboard register.
As if summoned by your thoughts, the lid pops open. From inside, an angular, dark head pops out. Folded ears prick up in interest as another set of dark brown eyes catch upon you.
From over the puppy's head, Bradley smiles sheepishly, "Happy birthday, baby."
You're floored. Unable to speak. The words catch in your lungs, and disbelief blossoms. Slowly, you place the glass down atop the coffee table. Cushions shift underneath as you rise to your feet.
"Before you get mad, I don't think you know how hard this was," Rooster warns, taking another step into the living room. "I was really beginning to lose hope that I could get a pup before your birthday passed, but then the breeder called."
"Yeah." His head dips in a nod as you move closer, eyes locked on the young dog watching you so curiously. "I know you said we'd wait a little bit. Still, I wanted you to have someone to keep you company while I'm away." Below, the puppy lifts her head to lick the underside of his chin. The corners of his eyes crease as he chuckles. "Besides, it seemed like she was sort of fated for us. Felt wrong to say no."
"What do you mean?" Your head tilts upon poising the question.
Still, you reach out. Her fur is soft underneath the gentle brush of your fingers. You only get to pet her for a moment, and then her head snaps up. Small white fangs clack together as she enthusiastically begins to gnaw upon the edge of your hand.
"Well, I was just about to begin looking at getting you some other gift, but the breeder called late one night. Their most recent litter had an extra girl. She was ours if we wanted her."
The puppy leans into your touch. She's a German Shepherd. Black, and short-haired. Just like you always said that you wanted. Long before, you had told him that when you were a girl, this had been your dream dog.
"Can I hold her?" you ask quietly.
"Of course." His grin spreads wider now; more confident at the happiness beginning to shine from your face. "Her name is Luna. I have pictures of her growing up to show you. The breeder sent a lot. I thought you'd get suspicious with my phone going off all the time."
Now, recalling your earlier suspicions, you can't help but feel like a fool. Bradley would never betray you. The whole time you'd harboured those doubts, he'd been out making this birthday the most special one yet.
Shifting in, you lift Luna from the box and onto your chest - before smiling gently up at him. "Thank you. For her. For everything."
And that's when you notice the ring on her collar. This round, shining diamond that stops you in your tracks. Eyes widening, your gaze snaps to Bradley's face.
He's no longer beside you. Instead, he's kneeling on the ground - box discarded and already prepared. Those dark eyes meet yours, and his moustache twitches in a show of nervous affection.
"How about you just thank me by saying 'yes?'"
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A/N: I'll be honest, it's been a very shit day and I'm sorry if this is all over the place. I can barely think straight. Just wanted to write something a little angsty but ending in fluff to make me feel better!
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How’d I Get So Damn Lucky? | Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x reader
summary: as you approach your six months anniversary with Rooster, you contemplate whether or not you are too much for him to deal with.
a/n: i partly wrote this during my lunch break at work and partly after smoking weed but i’m kind of proud of this regardless. and also this was a request from @hufflepufftruffle eek... i hope it turned out okay :)
warnings: mentions of sex because durr
It had been six months of pure bliss.
Bradley was everything you had ever wanted in a boyfriend; everything you had searched for your entire adult life. He was endlessly kind and attentive - he made you feel needed, in more ways than one. He was funny. He was hot. And the sex was mind blowing.
But you couldn’t help but feel an itch of guilt in the back of your mind as your anniversary approached. He told you he was planning something special, but days earlier, he’d returned from a deployment on which he nearly died. It had shaken you to your core: his job was dangerous. You’d cried into his arms as he told the story of needing to eject. He had two broken ribs and a concussion. And yet, he had immediately reverted back to supportive boyfriend and started planning a special outing for the approaching date.
Who were you to be the one who cried for him while he recovered from a reminder of his mortality? He should be leaning on you, you reasoned. His father had died as an aviator. And yet, his focus was always you.
“Are you okay, doll?” He asked you during breakfast a few days before your anniversary. You’d been quiet; too quiet. “You still shaken up?”
“Me? No, I’m fine.” You forced a smile. “You should be worrying about yourself, not me.” You added.
“I’m always worrying about you,” he shrugged. God, it made your stomach hurt. He was so selfless.
You knew you were a lot sometimes. Overly emotional, easily freaked out by his chosen career path. Sometimes you wondered if you were really good for him. Especially when he spent so much time thinking about you instead of focusing on himself.
You found yourself drawing back a bit. He asked to come over one night and you’d lied about having plans with some girlfriends, which just made you feel even more guilty, and you ended up crying into a glass of Chardonnay all evening instead of being held in his warm arms.
He called the next morning. You declined.
The girls slept over, I’ll probably be gone all day. Sorry. You texted.
I’ll come over tonight, he responded loyally, missing your beautiful face.
You left him on read.
Later that night, you heard a knock on your door. You’d spent the whole day pent up in your apartment doing busywork to distract yourself. You’d washed your linens twice.
It was Rooster and his perfect smile on the other side of the door, which you opened little more than a crack. He was holding a bottle of Prosecco and a grocery bag.
“Thought we could make some pasta and watch a movie,” he offered brightly. “You know I make a mean spaghetti.”
You smiled sadly. “That’s... really sweet babe, but I’m feeling really under the weather. I think I have a stomach bug or something. Can we take a rain check?”
He frowned. “I’ll draw you a bath, we don’t have to eat anything if you’re feeling sick.”
He tried to squeeze inside but you pressed on the door. Rooster froze.
“Sweetheart, what’s going on?” He asked, eyes wide. You felt a lump rising in your throat.
“I just need to be alone right now, okay? That’s it.”
He slowly nodded. Your heart broke at his dejected face. “I know something’s wrong, honey. If you don’t want to talk to me right now, that’s fine. But I’ll be here when you do.”
He pulled the door closed and you heard his footsteps receding. A wave of self-loathing rushed over you. You numbly locked your door and retired to your bedroom, where you fell asleep in a half-empty bed.
Rooster had texted the next day asking if you wanted him to bring you breakfast, which you declined, but half an hour later you received another text telling you to check outside and sure enough, he’d left a Tupperware of pancakes and bacon on your doormat. God, you loved him.
Phoenix texted you later that day, too. The two of you had grown close since she was more or less the only girl in Rooster’s friend group and the pair of you formed a kinship.
Hey hon. Is something going on? Rooster seems sad and he only acts this way when it has to do with you.
That certainly tugged at your heartstrings. There was nothing that upset your sweet boyfriend more than someone he loved having a problem.
Thinking I maybe need to take some space from him. I can’t be the most important thing in his life.
You weren’t sure what compelled you to spill the beans to Phoenix, but you trusted her. You quickly typed out another message.
Please don’t tell Rooster. Don’t want to make him feel like he’s done something wrong. He’s the best man I know.
You figured you’d leave it at that.
With your anniversary fast approaching, you knew you’d need to tell him sooner or later how you were feeling. It pained you to keep your feelings inside. You weren’t sure what the end goal was. A break? But those always led to breakups.
Perhaps a breakup was what was best. It would allow him the energy to care for himself. It would kill you to be away from him - you loved him, more than anything in the world - but it may literally kill him to have you as a distraction.
He always told you how you were it for him. That he’d never felt this way before, that you were his soulmate, the woman he wanted to marry and carry his children. You knew he was being sincere. And you wanted that too, more than anything. You wanted to wake up every morning beside him for the rest of your life.
But being selfish wasn’t an option, not when Rooster’s life was on the line. It was a no-brainer. You’d just have to learn to live without him.
Which felt absolutely impossible.
Another text popped up from Phoenix.
That’s how he is, babe. He lives to care for other people. That’s what makes him really happy. Knowing he has someone as wonderful as you is enough to bring him home each time.
You sighed deeply.
You decided to go for a walk to clear your head. So you walked, and walked, and walked until you were on the beach and walked some more with your shoes in your hand and your toes in the damp sand. You walked until you were near the Hard Deck, where you finally decided to sit and watch the sun, which was grazing lazily across the sky towards the West.
Sounds from the bar behind you made you think about Rooster and his silly piano songs. He’d sing to you sometimes, and make up little verses about how much he loved you. Then he’d pull you into his lap and kiss the side of your mouth and say the same line with the utmost sincerity each time.
“How’d I get so damn lucky?”
The tears were flowing down your cheeks before you could stop them. That was all you would have now: the memories of him. His voice, his kind eyes, the scars on his neck, his songs, his mustache that tickled you whenever he went down on you. Was it whorish of you to ponder that you’d miss the sex? The weight of his body on yours, his skilled fingers and beautiful, stupid porn-star moans?
He’d ruined all other men for you.
“You’re thinking so loud that I can practically read your mind.”
His familiar voice startled you. You tried to wipe at your tears before he plopped down beside you, with no luck.
He didn’t look at you. Rooster always knew how to read your mind, so he waited until your breathing evened out and your checks were dried by the wind before turning to you. He knew that it embarrassed you to cry in front of him.
He reached out and tilted your chin to look at him.
You mustered a smile and responded. “Hi, Bradley.”
“Please,” he scoffed. “Bradley was my father. Call me Rooster.”
“Your father’s name was Nick.”
He looked at his feet and chuckled. “Not in the mood for jokes, I see.”
You hummed. He waited a few moments before speaking again.
“Why don’t you want to be the most important thing in my life?”
You huffed. “So Phoenix told you. I’m going to kill her, I swear-”
He interrupted you. “Nah, I looked over her shoulder and saw her texts. We were at the Hard Deck together. She doesn’t deserve to be slaughtered.”
You bit the inside of your cheek. “So you saw me out here?”
“No,” he responded, “I went home immediately after I saw what you said to her. And you weren’t there, so I guessed that you went on a walk, and I just... connected the dots that you walked all the way here. Must have a lot on your mind to have walked for so long.”
“I guess,” you murmured. Your chest hurt. You could feel that it was all about to come out, so you took a deep breath and decided to get it over with. “I was going to break up with you tonight.”
His silence was painful enough of a response.
“Why?” He asked quietly.
“No, really. I want to know,” he pressed. There was some anger in his voice, but mostly just sadness. “Because I know it’s not because you don’t love me anymore. I know you love me. And I love you, and we’re happy, and we want to spend the rest of our lives together. So what the hell makes you think that ending it here is the right thing?”
You shuddered. Sobs were threatening to ruin the words you had prepared for him during your walk.
“I do love you. A lot, Rooster. But I can’t be a distraction to you. I get so.... worked up about your missions. Like last week, you came back and you had almost died and I made it all about me and now you’re planning this nice surprise for our anniversary and you don’t seem to care at all that you could have not come home at all. And if you’re up in the air and for even a second you think about me instead of your job, you could die. And I just can’t... I can’t be the reason for that. I love you too much.”
The tears had started again, but instead of looking at the sunset like he had been for the entire conversation so far, he grabbed your face and forced you to look into his eyes.
There was no animosity; no hatred. Just love.
“Baby, the reason I’m alive is because you’re there when I get home. The reason I make the decisions I do up in the air is because I’ve got something to live for now. I’m not reckless, and I know words won’t convince you of that, but I had the opportunity last week to do some dumb shit that could’ve made things easier for the sake of the mission, but I didn’t because I thought about you waiting for me. I have a future with you, I can’t jeopardize that.”
You tried to look away but he held on tight, running his thumbs across your cheeks.
“When you get emotional about what I do, it just makes me think how much you must fucking love me for you to feel so sad even when I’m alive in front of you. You’re not making it about you, baby, it’s always about me. You’re good to me in a way no one has ever been before. You care like no one else ever has. I gotta come back to you, honey, so that we can have everything we’ve talked about. So I can marry you and give you babies and get old with you.”
You almost laughed with relief. You had no idea how much you needed to hear him say that. Everything became so clear with his words.
He loosened his grip and waited for your reaction. You didn’t let his hands fall far from your face, grabbing onto them and pulling them around your neck. Your arms shifted to grab at his shirt and pull him closer. The rest of your tears fell into his shirt as he rubbed circles on the back of your neck. When your sobs subsided, he spoke again.
“Why didn’t you talk to me?”
You shrugged tearfully. “I was just scared. I didn’t know what else to do. But when you tell me, it makes sense. I feel so stupid.”
He chuckled. “Mav always says I’m wise whenever I decide not to be dumb.”
You smiled. He kissed your eyelids. Your nose. Then your lips. You’d missed his lips.
“You’re not stupid,” he reminded you, “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’m glad you care so much about me. I only wish you’d told me earlier how you felt so we could’ve avoided all these days of you being sad.” He paused. “Your girlfriends didn’t come over the other day, did they?”
You laughed. “And i didn’t have a stomach bug.”
“Very clever excuses.”
He pulled you to sit between his legs. “I love you, honey. I’m happy to be here with you.”
“I’m happy too.”
“I’m glad,” he responded, his voice suddenly laced with nerves. “I, uh, know our anniversary isn’t until tomorrow, but do you think I could give you part of your present now?”
You twisted your head to look back at him. “Is it giving me mind-blowing head?”
“No,” he grinned, “that’s for tomorrow.”
You hummed and turned back towards the sunset. “I suppose whatever else you want to give me could come a little early.”
He shuffled around behind you and then went still for a few moments. One of his hands reached out in front of you, between your legs. You looked down at what he was presenting between his fingers.
It was a ring.
You twisted back so quickly that you thought you might have pulled a muscle.
“I know it’s only our six months and you said during the first month of our relationship that you wanted to date someone for at least a year before agreeing to marry them, but I’ve known from the moment I met you that you were the one for me and I just can’t wait any longer, honey. Please, if it isn’t too much to ask, will you marry me?”
Your mouth was hanging open.
Sure, you’d told him that, but you lied. Even in that first month, you knew that if Rooster got down on one knee, you’d say yes. And here he was, five months later, asking the question you’d been burning to answer.
“Of course I will, baby.”
It came out as more of a strangled sob, but Rooster seemed to understand because he grinned. His arms snaked around you and pulled you in for a long kiss. When he pulled back for air, he grabbed your hand and slipped the ring on his finger. It was beautiful - a tasteful size and very elegant, vintage looking.
“My mom’s?” He finished your question. “Yeah. She would’ve killed to have a daughter-in-law like you.”
You kissed him again. Then you laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
You swiped your finger over his eyebrow and kissed his nose. “Just never thought this day would end like this. I thought I’d be single by sunset.”
“Funny how things work out.”
“Yeah,” you hummed. “Funny.”
There was no feeling like sitting there on the beach with Rooster, toying with your new engagement ring, while he whispered how much he loved you in your ear.
“How’d I get so damn lucky?” You murmured as the stars rose above you.
“That’s my line,” he scolded.
When the moon was high in the sky, the pair of you finally stood up and he escorted you to his Bronco. You proceeded to make out against the hood like a couple of teenagers. Eventually, you pulled back and ran a hand through his hair lovingly.
“How about we go home and you give me my other anniversary gift early?”
He chuckled. “Anything for my fiancé.”
You don't think so?
JJ Maybank x bsf!reader
(My work is not to be copied or transfered. However, you may reblog the shit out of it.)
Warnings: smut, jealousy, breeding kink, possessiveness, a bit of asshole JJ, exhibition kink, dirty talk, degradation, unedited,
He kept on grumbling mediocre to completely invalid reasons that you shouldn't go on the date. Watching you with a scowl and creased brows as you attempted to slip in to your heals and touch up your make up all at the same time.
You were getting dressed at the Chateau, a perfectly slutty dress that showed off your curves just right. Your make up flawless and subtle yet suggestive. You had one intention tonight and JJ didn't like it one bit.
"He's an asshole."
"J, you don't even know him."
"He's a kook, y/n. He's an asshole."
"Okay well I didn't pick him out, J. My parents did."
"Exactly! So you probably have nothing in common and you should just call the whole thing off!"
"Why do you care so much, JJ?" You accused, closing the mascara tube and setting it back on the dresser. "I- I don't." You rolled your eyes and the unamused scoff you aimed his way only pissed him off further. He hated this whole fucking thing.
You phone pinged from beside you and you glanced at it, seeing your dates name pop up with a message saying he was on his way. "Shit!"
"What?" JJ huffed, already knowing where this was going. Didn't stop him from hoping you were getting ditched though. "He's on his way. Said he'll be here in about five minutes. Do I look okay?"
"You look great." JJ's eyes didn't leave yours and you frowned, hands on your hips in warning. He sighed and made a big show of checking you out. You looked good enough to fucking eat. "Yep, great." You sighed and grabbed your purse, walking out in to the main portion of the house.
"You're unbelievable J." You shook your head as he followed you, setting your bag down on the counter while you waited. "I mean what did you want me to say?"
"How about like an actual opinion? Like at least act like you give a damn." You scoffed, folding your arms across your chest.
Then suddenly JJ was on you, pushing you back against the counter with a scowl. His eyes were dark and he stared down at you with menace. "You want my opinion?" You nodded, stubborn expression faltering.
"Fine. You look like a slut in the best way possible. This tiny dress makes me want to rip it clean of your body and devour you until you can't think straight,"
"That shade of lip gloss makes me want to fuck your face until your begging for air or a break, I don't fucking care which one. Those heals make your legs look even more perfect than usual and I just want them wrapped around my waist or over my shoulders while I rail you til you pass out,"
"I want your cream on my cock and your lips pressed to my neck. Okay? Happy? Is that what you wanted, y/n? You look like a fucking sex dream, how's that?" You were completely taken aback, staring up at him with your mouth agape. "JJ-"
"You know what? Fuck it." And then his lips were on yours in a searing kiss. It was rough and it was needy and it was passionate and possessive and it had your knees going weak, falling forwards in to his strong arms. He caught you, caging you against the counter as he put all of himself in to the kiss.
You gasped when his erection pressed in to your thigh, slick pooling between your legs. "Tell me you want it. I know you can feel it, y/n. Tell me you want it." You were nodding before you even realized, gulping down the lump in your throat. "I want it J. I want all of you."
He made a sound like a growl deep in his throat and then he was spinning you around and tearing your lacy thong down your legs. The material infuriated him, knowing that it was put on for your date and not for himself. He'd make you regret ever thinking about having sex with that rich piece of shit.
He pulled the top of your dress down, making you gasp as your tits sprang free, pressed against the coolness of the countertop. JJ wasted no time shoving his shorts and boxers out of the way, lifting the skirt of your dress and thrusting in to you in one fluid movement.
You moaned, immediately squirming beneath him after having been impaled with his gargantuan cock. But he didn't move, he sat there, balls deep inside you, letting you push yourself back against him like a desperate whore. "JJ-"
"That's right, mama. JJ. It's my dick buried so deep inside your needy cunt. Can you feel me so deep baby? Feel me stretching you out so good?" You nodded, whining as you attempted to fuck yourself on him. "JJ please?"
"Please what? Please fuck you? Is that what you want? Having my dick isn't enough for you? You need me to ruin you with it, don't you slut? Make you come apart around me. Bet you want my cum too, don't you? Do you want my cum pretty mama?" You nodded without really even knowing what you were agreeing too, just anything to get him to fuck you.
"Then you better make me cum." He warned, finally pulling out before slamming back in and setting a merciless pace. You were a moaning mess beneath him as he ruined you, his ringed fingers pressing in to your hips with a bruising grip, lips sucking dark marks in to the skin of your neck and shoulder. He was so good.
And then there was a knock on the door and you froze, the sounds of skin slapping and the embarrassing sloshing of your wetness filling the room. You had to bite down hard on your lip to keep from moaning.
"Hello? Y/n, are you home?" Your face went red with embarrassment when JJ answered, smirking against your skin in light of what he'd done. "Yeah, she's getting ready! It's unlocked, come on in man!"
And then there was an added pressure of his calloused fingers rubbing in to your clit just as the door started to open and you were met with the shocked expression of your date.
You had no choice but to lock eyes with him, trying to convey your apology. But then JJ hit your g-spot with the head of his cock and you let out the most embarrassing, pornographic moan, as you released around him.
Deep red as the most intense pleasure wracked your body, embarrassed by the fact that two men had witnessed you cum like that. A deep groan sounded against your ear, JJ's face buried in your neck, hips snapping as he came inside of you.
His heavy panting only added to your euphoria and you squeezed your eyes shut, wanting to forget what had just happened.
JJ chuckled darkly, leaning back up but not removing himself from you. Holding his cum in place with his cock as he lovingly stroked your bruised hips, eyes drifting up from your body to lock with the shocked and offended gaze of your date.
"Hey sorry man, I don't think she'll be able to make it tonight. A little dizzy, weak in the knees, you know? Probably best she stays here with me so I can keep on taking care of her. Thanks for dropping by though."
Oh my god this boy.
Taglist: @outerbankspov @maybankforlife @outeredits-jess @glassheart1993 @pattnscn @wishing-i-was-rafes-princess @kaelibaby @avaparker1972 @gillybear17 @hiitslee @vintageobx @precious-silvercloud @toystory2wasjustokay @drewstarkeyobsessed @luversgirl @dang-shawty-okay @fiction-is-life @teelagurl558 @piscesbabe222 @1-800-imagines @bethanyoconnor @hoodforcalum @maybanks-luver @lovelyjj @my-baexht-ls @rafecameronswhore @vinniehackerrr @louisprettybaby @valeriiecameron @unbelievablystillafangirl @phxntom-2021 @conans-folk @itsmytimetoodream @truewdw1 @pvnkcloud @tracymbcm @phildunphyisadilf @kayleiggh @onmykneesforrafe @rootbeerfaygo @dirtytissuebox @asimpwriter
𝟏𝟐:𝟐𝟑 𝐏𝐌 | 𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀 𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐔.
yesterday, you and atsumu have the first fight since moving in together, and today, you offer him the silent treatment.
he pretends like it doesn’t bother him, but a part of him feels like he’s back to living on his own—sitting in a cold and empty apartment, no signs of life other than himself. he sits with a pout in the living room, watching as you walk out of the bedroom all dressed up for an afternoon out, and he should be tagging along, he thinks miserably. he should be begging for just one more kiss as you grumble about being late.
and it’s his own fault—he should’ve checked his pockets before he put his joggers in the laundry. his headphones are utterly ruined thanks to himself, but instead, he chooses to pin it on you. it’s a force of habit, shrugging off responsibility. he’s never had much more than volleyball and microwavable meals to worry about, but he finds he’s got a lot more on his plate now that you’re here.
and now, all on his own, on the god damn couch that he’s heavily debating on replacing for a better one (his back is rather sore from sleeping on it), he reflects on himself while you get ready to go have fun with people that aren’t him.
“okay, baby, have fun,” he calls. you look at him with pursed lips, and he shrinks under your gaze—and there's no reply. “text me when ya get there, okay? i love ya,” he continues.
he can’t say the silence shocks him, but he can pout deeper as he’s greeted with it once more.
“make sure ya drive carefully, alri—” and then the door opens, cutting him off mid-sentence. he whips his head to you, stopping you before you can leave. “hey! wait, ya didn’t say ya love me back,” he gasps, “ya can’t walk out before that.”
finally, after he’s patiently waited all morning, you give him a small hint of acknowledgment—which isn’t all too rewarding when it’s just an eye roll.
“atsumu, we are in the middle of a fight—”
“we are in the middle of a fight,” he mocks, scrunching his face up as he imitates you with an exaggerated tone. “okay, and? ya gotta tell me ya love me, or i might pack ma bags and run away from home by the time ya get back,” he says matter-of-factly, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow.
he waits patiently for you to say what he wants to hear—but you very much do not give him what he wants.
“run away from home?” you ask dryly.
“yeah,” he nods. “i’ll run away from home if ya don’t tell me ya love me in the next ten seconds. i’ll pack ma toothpaste and everythin’.”
for a moment, he thinks this might just work, that you might just cave and all might just be well—but then you simply shrug, much to his dismay. and to make things worse, you wait exactly for ten seconds to pass before you look at him with narrowed eyes.
“looks like it’s time to run away.” he stares at you shocked, betrayal written all over his face as you gesture at him to go to your shared bedroom. “go get your things—as a matter of fact, put them in your damn pockets, and run away.”
groaning, he throws his head back, arm laying itself over his eyes as he realizes he won’t be forgiven as easily as he thought.
“baby, ya gotta cut me some slack, i was tired, okay? only said those things cos i was tired.”
“wow, you really suck at apologizing, don’t you?”
pouting, he blinks at you innocently. “‘m sorry,” he offers. it only makes you roll your eyes, shaking your head with a scoff.
and he deflates, huffing to himself at your stubbornness. “startin’ ta think i should run away,” he mumbles.
“well, i bet you ran away as a kid at least once,” you mutter, and it’s silent. he stares down at his lap, avoiding your gaze, and you snort in realization as you shut the door and turn to him. “so you have run away? why am i not surprised that little you was just as dramatic as the adult version,” you laugh, making him cross his arms and look away.
“ma mom never picked ma side, how’s that dramatic? i was right,” he defends himself, shifting his body to face away from you as you walk over. your face softens as you sit next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder while a hand finds one of his.
and atsumu’s not perfect—he never has been. he’s grumpy moods and crude remarks and stubborn resolves. but he’s also warm hugs and sunny mornings and giggly kisses. and he’s not perfect, but he’s got his charm, and he’s also got your heart. so you lace your fingers with his, give his hand a squeeze, and you rub a thumb over his knuckles in a truce.
“well, that’s probably because you’re annoying,” you murmur, kissing the hand you hold. he grunts, shifting so he can wrap an arm around you and bring you closer.
“she’s lucky i came back, she’d be lost without me.”
grinning, you lay your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat against your cheek.
“i’m sure she’s grateful you did, you little drama queen,” you chuckle, feeling his own quiet laugh rumble from his chest. sighing, he kisses the top of your head, rubbing your arm up and down gently.
“i really am sorry i yelled at ya, it was ma own fault,” he offers quietly.
“i know,” you say, voice soft as you pull away and reach for his face, cupping it as you place small kisses along his jaw. you smile at the sight of him closing his eyes and relishing your affections, and you wonder if atsumu knows just how hard to resist he really is.
you plant a sweet kiss on his lips, and he places his hand on the back of your head, keeping you there until he deems you’ve kissed him long enough.
“but check your pockets next time,” you say firmly as you pull away, patting his cheek as you get up to go leave once more.
“hey, wait! can i come too if yer not mad anymo—”
“no,” you say instantly.
wilting, he whines. “can ya at least bring me back somethin’ ta eat? ‘m starvi—” and then the door shuts, cutting him off.
and starting today, atsumu tells himself he’ll never forget to check his pockets again before laundry day.
repost from my old blog 😭 even tho i low key hate this as i reread it more and more
angst to fluff like harry gets mad and yells at her and she just retreats and stays in the room and he feels bad and tries to get her back
Ok let me get a try for this bc I am bad at angst 🥀
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Here goes nothing 😚
It wasn’t often that Harry got angry. Truly, it was a rarity. Harry wasn’t necessarily even tempered, but he hid his anger more so in keeping to himself and letting himself cool off. He knew himself. When he got truly angry, he snapped. He yelled. And it was scary.
Y/N had never been on the receiving end of that before. She was none the wiser. Of course, she had seen him be angry a few times but it was never directed towards her. Harry was very good normally, able to keep his feelings at bay because he knew that she was particularly sensitive about him. Not that she was a baby- she wasn’t. Y/N was strong and lovely and his perfect match. She knew that when he got snarky that it wasn’t usually aimed towards her. The few times it had thought to be directed at her and she got quiet, he immediately clarified it wasn’t and tried to talk to her about it.
Some days, though, he was met with his greatest flaw. Being unable to talk about his issues, so the things pile up and up until the damn broke. Normally, no one else was around.
Y/N had been on a great mood all day. Harry was going to be home before her, they were set to order takeaway and watch a few movies. They didn’t officially live together yet, but she was buying some things for his house today. He was a bachelor, and despite his resources he didn’t know much all about interior design. Her mood had been brightened even more when she saw a cute mug at the home goods store.
It was a little dog dressed as Elvis with lyrics to Hound Dog on it. An inside joke between the flourishing couple thar she had been giddy to grab. Only $4 was a steal for something she thought he would like much better than the boring slate grey mugs his interior designer had bought. Ick.
When she saw his car when she arrived home, she was elated. Heart picking up as she grabbed the bags from the backseat, she nearly skipped inside to see her boyfriend. He’d been busy lately with work and while she definitely understood, she had been looking forward to seeing him and spending all weekend long with him.
“Babe? I’m home! I got you a surprise.” She called out once she got the door open, kicking it shut behind her. Her shoes were toed off and left in front of the shoe rack, making a mental note to go back and place them properly on it once the bags were set down.
It was quiet but she could hear him upstairs so she called thar she would be in the kitchen when he got down there. Humming happily, she went into the kitchen and set down the bags gently beginning to unwrap the new glassware she had gotten for them. It was exciting. His suggestion too, telling her that she should go out and grab things she liked better. Since it was better than her stink face at the patterned plates that always looked dirty.
She paused when she heard a thump and then a curse, a breathy huff and then stomps over to the kitchen.
“H? You okay?” She asked curiously, only to be met by the answer when she saw his face. A tiny limp in his step and a giant scowl, face red.
“Do I look okay?” He hissed. “Heard me curse, didn’t you?” His eyes cut into her, and then the counter littered with bags and the paper wrapping from the glassware. Some had fallen to the floor while she neatly placed everything out, wanting to have a display for him to see.
“I- did, yeah. I didn’t know what-“
“Fucking tell you every time to put your shoes on the rack. Tripped over them and wrecked my ankle. Cant afford that when I’m working, Y/N.” He said sternly, making her blink a few times. It wasn’t often anymore that she left them. A bad habit she had mostly fixed, it confused her to hear him bring it up when she hadn’t done it in month.
“I- I’m sorry.” She said quietly. “I was gonna go put them on the rack when I was finished unpacking this stuff, I didn’t have enough hands to-“ cut off once again, Harry let out a sarcastic laugh.
“Yeah, I can see that. Did you buy the whole store? Gave you my card to get a few glasses or something. Not redo everything.” He glared at the amount of dishes she had so carefully chosen to fit both of their personalities. “And… they don’t even match? Great. Cant serve shit on that to people when they come over. Embarrassing.”
Y/N felt her stomach drop at the insinuation that he didn’t like them. That it would be embarrassing to serve on them when he hasn’t even looked to see that they did match. The patterns and colors were cohesive- why was he acting like this? Her mind was muddled with confusion.
“I… Harry, you told me to go get new dishes so I did. I spent a while trying to choose the right colors and stuff so it would fit us… took me a long time cause I was trying to choose the perfect ones.” Her voice was wounded but Harry was so annoyed at her that it didn’t matter. His ankle throbbed after being pestered all day long, a project riding his ass, and she had left her fucking shoes down and made a mess of his kitchen.
“Obviously not long enough.” He scoffed. “And you make a mess everywhere you fucking go. Christ, did no one teach you how to pick up after yourself?” He seethed, walking over to the other side of the counter and bending to pick up the papers that fell with an aggression she hadn’t seen before. “How are we supposed to live together at some point when you can’t do simple fucking shit?” His glare and tone was the accumulation of things that had nothing to do with her- but she had no idea about that. It had come out of nowhere.
She felt sick. Embarrassed. Her stomach hurt and her throat was sore from the lump in it, hands shaking just a tiny bit but hidden by the new kitchen towels she had gotten. Harry never spoke to her like this before, and it was scary. It hurt. She was silent, hurt at the accusations, the ridicule of her ability to choose a set of glassware and his aggressive body language. That was something she really didn’t like.
“Jesus, are you just going to stand there?” He snarled. “Not even talk back to me? What is wrong with you?” The sneer on his face made her feel little. Small. Insignificant. “Cant trust you with cleaning up after yourself, choosing appropriate shit as an adult- fuck, a dog mug? You’ve got to be kidding.” His laugh was cruel as he pushed it away. Of course he hadn’t looked closely at it or he would have seen why she choose it. That in particular felt like a kick to the gut. So she remained silent as her eyes glossed over. Harry didn’t notice though.
“God, can I not trust a single fucking person?! Why is everyone in my life trying to make shit so much harder? You’re supposed to be the one who makes it easier for me!” His voice raised, anger in it actually scaring her. He got closer to her, frustrated at her lack of reply. “Can you talk? Why are you ignoring me? Seriously?” The deep voice boomed across the kitchen as he heaved, the anger building up in his system. “Look at me when I’m talking to you!”
It was in that moment that she did, he felt everything drain out of his body. Probably his blood too. She turned to him with the most gut wrenching, tear stained face. Tears he realized he had caused, and she was looking away so he wouldn’t see. His stomach grew sick and then a cold sweat broke over his body as he went silent. The air rushed from his lungs as he realized just what he was doing. Harry was always so fucking tender wirh her. So soft spoken and sweet. He never wanted her to see this side of him, never wanted her to be on that path and he had just majorly fucked that up.
“Y/N-“ the tone of his voice had dropped so low, he could barely hear it. “I-“ the sentence wasn’t finished because she turned away from him, rushing away. His body froze for a moment, unable to breathe as he watched her retreat. Going towards the stairs, he choked on his words again as his feet began to work with his mind again.
“Y/N, wait. Wait- I’m sorr-“ he was cut off by her feet carrying off harder, a faster jog and a soft click of a door upstairs. He followed quickly after her to, feeling like the blood rushed to his ears again. Taking the steps quickly despite the dull ache in his ankle, he cursed as he got to the top and heard the lock click to his guest room.
She locked him out.
“Angel…” he whispered against the door. “Please. Let me inside. Let me see you.” His voice caught as he heads the beginnings of her sob, his body shaking with need fo hold her. When Y/N cried, it was the most devastating thing. He hated it. It hurt him, and he had promised to do his best to never make her do so because of him. Now he had.
Not only that, but it truly wasn’t deserved. She hasn’t deserved all of that thrown on her. It was a mistake, one simple mistake and he had ripped her apart for it. Something thar realistically, she had remedied over the past few months. All of his anger from the past few weeks piled on to the sweet girl who had been so excited on her way inside. He ruined it. Harry was just hopeful, praying, that he hadn’t ruined them.
Dramatic, maybe, but he knew he was scary when he yelled. Y/N was sensitive for him and his opinion of her mattered greatly to her. Just as hers did for him. He aches thinking about if the roles were reversed.
“Y/N. M’so sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you, baby. I’m not angry with you. I was being unfair.” He croaked, shifting on his feet helplessly as he heard her cries. It was killing him. Yeah, he knew he deserved it, but she didn’t. “M’sorry baby. I’m sorry. Please let me come and hold you. I don’t want you to cry. I need to see you, angel.” Harry despite what anyone else may think, wasn’t above begging.
“Please go away.” She whispered through her sniffles. “I want to be alone.”
That broke his heart. She never wanted to be alone if he was around. His throat was tight, unsure of how to proceed. He wanted to bust down the door but it wasn’t fair of him to do that. He couldn’t demand her right now when he had just verbally ripped her to shreds.
“Fuck- okay. Okay, love. I’m gonna go for 10 minutes but I’m coming back then, okay? I’m sorry.”
It pained him in both heart and ankle to walk away, but he did for her own sake. He wasn’t going to continue to probe her when she needed some time alone. It wasn’t her fault that Harry was mad, nor that he was panicking now.
His pain only got worse in his chest when he went downstairs again, though. Wincing at the counter, taking a closer look and realizing that the plates and glasses all went with the color scheme she had helped him choose to paint later on. They were perfect. She spent time on them, and he had insisted he use his card and didn’t have a limit on spending. The price tag showed they were on clearance. All the money he had, and she had gotten clearance. And He had been dumb enough to subtly accuse her of using his money recklessly. The same girl who venmoed him back $7 for a coffee and cake pop. Fuck.
The worst thing, the thing that ripped his heart open was the mug he had so cruelly laughed at. Taking a closer look, he felt his own eyes gloss over in tears. It was for their joke. Their joke they always laughed about. She had found a perfectly correlated piece for them and he had made her feel childish about it, ridiculed it as if it was something dumb. Harry knew how sentimental his girl was. He knew that she must have been excited to find it.
He sniffled said he held the mug in his hands, placing it gently on the coffee maker after taking off the price sticker. It was adorable, and so fucking personal it hurt. He was a fucking idiot.
It probably hadn’t been 10 minutes but he climbed the stairs again, heart beating hard and sad in the chamber of his chest while he knocked on the door. Still, he could hear sniffles.
“Baby…” he whispered. “I’m such a fucking idiot. Please let me in. You did nothing wrong… nothing.” His words were true, though a bit shaky. “I was so mean to you, my love. So mean and you didn’t deserve a lick of it. Want to be sick that I was so mean to my sweet girl. I know you’re upset with me and I don’t deserve it… but can you let me in?”
He didn’t deserve the relief that coursed through him when she undid the lock, and that was apparent when he saw her face. The tear stains, swollen lips and eyes, runny nose. Her shaky hands she tried to hide by crossing her arms against her chest in a defensive position. A punch to his gut, his face fell further.
“Baby…” he stepped into the room after her as she backed up, looking at him warily. The man had no one else to blame but himself when his heart fell at the eyes she gave him. “Fuck. I fucked up so badly, Didnt I?” He whispered to mostly himself as he cautiously approached, giving her time to back away when she wanted to. “My sweet girl. The most perfect… can’t believe I’ve gone n’made you cry.” The hoarse words made her eyes fall from his face and tear up a bit more.
“No- no, no. Please, my love. I cant even tell you how sorry I am. You didn’t deserve any of my anger. Everything I said wasn’t even true.” He said desperately. “I went downstairs… and I saw the stuff. I was being an ass. The colors… they match the paint swatches. I saw them in your bag.” He sniffed, clenching his fists to keep from touching. “I love them. I should have never, ever thrown you using my money in your face. I love spoiling you, taking care of you. I was just…” he swallowed. “Projecting. Because I found out… y’know Hannah, the girl we were becoming friendly with in the office?” He whispered. At her little nod, he continued. “Heard her talking about how happy she was that she got into our friend group there n’how… shes going to be making a lot of money in exposure. And how she likes going out with me and the guys because I pay. Was telling her girlfriend they were going to be rich.” It was a soft spot for him. People using him. His inner circle was close knit for that reason. People who had no other motives.
“I’m sorry, Harry.” Her weak voice peeped. That should have made him feel better but it didn’t. Even when he was a dick she cared about his feelings. Right now, she shouldn’t.
“Don’t be.” He mumbled. “There’s a lot of pressure in the projects and I had 2 bad meeting… and then after the thing with Hannah, I came home and stained my shirt with ink pen. Had to throw it out. Used real milk in my coffee at the coffee house today… was feeling ill all day. It all piled up on me. But none of that, not a single one is an excuse for how I just spoke to you.” He said lowly, gently reaching a hand out to her arm. She didn’t flinch or pull away, but didn’t lean into him either.
Harry knew that what he just did wasn’t okay, nor healthy. It wasn’t something he was going to let happen again either. “I’m going to figure out something… some sort of way to fix my emotions because there’s no way I am ever letting myself speak to you like that again.” He bowed his head in shame. Out of all the people he could have taken it out on, he did it on sunshine personified.
“I’m not happy, H.” Her weak voice came out. “I won’t… I won’t let myself be with someone who does that. I know it isn’t your normal, and I trust you to fix it. But I’m just telling you. As far and as deeply and madly in love with you as I am, I know that I won’t let myself be treated like that.” Her voice was so soft, hoarse from her sobs and it made him fold. He pulled her into his chest, kissing the crown of her head firmly.
“It will not happen again. And you shouldn’t. If anyone else talked to you that way, I’d sock them in the face. I feel sick on how I just treated you. I won’t ever let anyone do it… including me. I’m…” he closed his eyes as his lips rested against her head. “M’ashamed of it. I never want to lose you. Ever. You’re the best person to come into my life and I love you so much it’s sickening.” The shaky breath into his chest as she grabbed him back and curled into his body flooded him with relief. “My love. I adore you. And I want you to be so happy with me.” He smeared kisses all over her forehead before moving down to kiss any surface. Brushing away the tear tracks in his wake with his thumbs, whispering sweet apologies.
“I love my mug. I’m so sorry I was mean. I love it so much, going to use it every day. I already set it up in our coffee bar.” He confirmed, making a bloom of discomfort wilt. He did actually like it. His tone was real, and she knew it well enough to believe it. “Let me take care of you tonight, Angel. Was so looking forward fo our weekend. We can do anything you want. Even watch those sappy romance movies. I’ll pretend I’m not crying at the end too.” Harry wasn’t perfect but he was willing to put in the work to fix the tear in their trust.
✰ pairing — tsukishima kei x gn!reader
✰ content warnings — 6.3k wc, art students tsukki & reader, fluff, mutual pining, self-doubt on reader’s end (regarding skill).
a/n: "nabi" is the korean word that, in english, translates to butterfly. pretty, right? anywho, here's a very short playlist of some songs that either inspired or reminded me of this fic :)
you blink at the sculpture situated in your workspace. unsurprisingly, its cold, inanimate eyes only stare back at you. the lack of response, though anticipated, draws a bitter laugh from your lungs. other than the fact that it's unfinished, there's something wrong with the piece in front of you. you've known it and your professor made that much clear during her class evaluations today.
what are you trying to convey? it feels empty. you aren't showcasing your true potential.
by the time she had moved on to check the progress of the next student's work, you felt as empty as she claimed your piece was. and, even though you didn't have high expectations, the criticism hurt. your classmates must have been able to tell, too, because as soon as class was dismissed, they crowded around you with apologies for the harshness you faced and extended words of encouragement to help get you through the upcoming stages of the project. you thanked them, of course, but none of their words truly got through to you. you wouldn't be standing here trying to figure out what had gone wrong or what was missing if they had.
"hey." you jump at the sound of a voice several feet away. for the first time since class ended, you tear your eyes away from the source of your sorrows. it's strange—you don't think it shouldn't be possible for your mood to shift so quickly, but the sight of a certain someone always seems to lift your spirits.
"hey yourself," you greet tsukishima with a smile. it graces your lips naturally—isn't strained or forced like it would be for anyone else in this moment.
heavy footsteps echo throughout the large studio as the man makes his way toward you. instinctively, his gaze falls to the idle figure before you. he inspects the sculpted model while speaking. "still working? i can get lunch alone if you're busy."
you shake your head and quickly snatch up the clear trash bag that you use to store your work. it's transparent, sure, but you don't want tsukki of all people scrutinizing your work. the bag crinkles loudly as you carefully place it over the sculpture in a poor attempt to keep it hidden from your companion.
"nope! i'm done for the day," you assure him. your spectacle of storing the sculpture has the opposite of your intended effect, as tsukki's golden eyes slowly pass between you and it. eventually, his stare lands and stays on you. it's intense and you almost cower under it but you've known him long enough to know that, despite it looking like it, there's no intimidation behind his eyes. you clear your throat, wiping your sweaty, clay-stained palms on the pants of your coveralls.
"where should we eat?"
after a lunch consisting of pre-packaged sandwiches and bottled water, the two of you decide that since you both have time before your next classes, you can spend it at the campus arboretum. you don’t find yourself here often, but tsukki leads you to a bench he frequents whenever he has downtime. you drop your bag on the edge of the seat before plopping down yourself. your companion joins you, albeit, a lot more gracefully.
it's nice here, you decide, peaceful even. the scent of freshly mowed grass wafts through the air. it's dewy, too—the sprinklers must have been at work earlier, sometime in the morning. if you looked hard enough at the patches of sunlight, you might have been able to see the little droplets of moisture sticking to the tips of the individual blades.
“how’d your evaluation go?” tsukki's voice cuts through the silence.
damn it. you were hoping that minuscule detail you had shared would slip the blonde’s mind but that might as well have been an impossible ask of tsukishima. every piece of information he comes across is stored away in the neatly organized archive that is his brain. it can be useful at times; like when you seek him out to help you study or when you’re having trouble trying to remember the name of the ice cream shop you want to drag him to. other times, though, you consider it a curse; like when you attempt to cheat at board games or when you take a crack at convincing him that it’s his turn to pay even though it’s definitely yours. now, in this moment, his incredible memory has come back to bite you.
you exhale a breath that’s meant to be a soft sigh but comes out as more of a burdened huff. you don't want to lie to him, but even if you did, you wouldn't be able to. you're as much as a glass wall to tsukki—he can see right through you without even trying. you keep your reply short and leave out the humiliating scene your professor put you through. “could have been better. i’ll figure everything out soon enough.”
"do you need help?" he asks, staring at the ground.
the laugh you let out causes tsukishima's head to turn in your direction. his brows are knit together in confusion. another huff of laughter passes your lips before you wave your hand in dismissal. it's not that you're above his help, rather, it's the fact that he even offered. you don't put kind gestures past him—he can be nice when he wants to—but his concern catches you off guard. "thanks, but no thanks. i don't want to distract you from your own projects. besides, i have it covered."
"if you say so." he doesn't press because it's clear you don't want him to. though, a small part of him can't help but feel that something is bothering you more than you're letting on.
a comfortable silence blankets the two of you as you sit and enjoy the scenery. you hold your arm up to check the time on the watch strapped around your wrist. there's half an hour until you need to get to your last class of the day. usually, you'd be itching to find something to do, something to keep you busy. sitting around and doing nothing isn't productive and you find it to be quite boring. but this leisure time today doesn't feel like that. it's welcome and you're truly enjoying it.
just as you're about to lower your arm back to its place on your side, a set of deep-colored wings—maybe blue or purple—catches your eye. the wings flutter towards you, slowing with their approach to your hand. there are a few more languid flaps as the butterfly comes to rest on your finger. unconsciously, a smile pulls at the corners of your lips.
tsukki watches you watch the butterfly. the smile you're wearing now is different than the ones he's become familiar with. this one is more relaxed; your lips don't expose your teeth like they would if you were posing for a picture. this one is calm; he can't see the inside of your mouth like he'd be able to if you were laughing over something you found funny—funnier than it actually was. but this particular smile does share something with the others; it makes his heart feel weightless in his chest.
he clears his throat and asks, "do you like them?"
you cast him a curious glance before turning back to the insect perched on your finger. that alone, he thinks, is enough to consider an answer. still, he elaborates. "butterflies. do you like them?"
you hum in both understanding and confirmation, nodding your head to tell him yes.
"why?" he follows up.
"i guess i've never really thought about it," you softly laugh. your exhale must have disturbed the butterfly because its wings pick up that rapid flutter, carrying it away into the air. you watch it go, fly with the wind, until it's out of your sight. tsukki's question resurfaces as you tuck your hands under your thighs. you ponder over it for a moment while you stare up at the sky. as far as you can see, it's boundless. the butterfly that had just left you could be anywhere in the vastness of the cloudy blue canvas by now. "i like them because they're pretty... and free."
there's a strange expression on your face when tsukishima looks back over at you, one that doesn't match the lightheartedness of your words.
you look envious.
• • •
these days, it's rare for you to be the first to the destination when you plan to meet with tsukishima. it's become a habit for you to show up after him and on the occasion that you're taking too long for his liking, he'll come and get you from the studio himself. you've broken the trend today, though, choosing to drop the extra work you assigned yourself in favor of grabbing coffee with tsukki. you were sure that your brain would explode and leak out of your ears if you spent even a second longer analyzing the cursed sculpture.
"is it rude to start my drink if he isn't here yet?" you mumble to yourself, chin resting on your crossed arms that lay on the table. the cup dripping with condensation on top of the white square napkin has monopolized your attention since you had set it down. on the other side of the surface sits tsukki's usual iced americano. it's the only thing keeping you from taking a sip of the beverage in front of you. you've come to notice that whenever tsukki is in situations like these, ones where he's left waiting for you, he orders for you both and doesn't lay a finger on his meal or snack or drink until you arrive.
it's those consistent gestures that push you toward your decision; as long as his is untouched, yours will be, too.
you want to give yourself a pat on the back for resisting temptation and choosing to be considerate but the scraping that accompanies the drag of a chair stops you from doing so. you squeeze your eyes shut and shiver at the unpleasant noise. a chuckle sounds from across the table, leading you to open your eyes. there's an amused grin on tsukki's face that brings a frown to yours.
"that's the thanks i get for treating you?" you mumble, aimlessly swirling the ice cubes of your drink around with your straw.
he raises his cup with his words, "thank you." soft pink lips wrap around the clear plastic straw and you watch as the dark liquid travels up the cylinder. it draws your eye to the rest of his face—his honey eyes occupied with the passing pedestrians outside the shop, his buttery blonde hair tickling the top of his black and gold browline style glasses, the speck of dried green paint staining his otherwise clear skin.
your lips wobble in an effort to hold back your laugh but a short giggle makes it past despite your struggle to hold it in. tsukki's eyes fall on you. a grin he knows all too well, one that means nothing but trouble, plays at your lips. "what?"
you tap your cheek, the same spot where the paint was splattered on his. "you have a bit of paint on your face."
the man clicks his tongue in annoyance—at himself, not you. he's normally better about making sure he's cleaned up after class but today some of the paint he was working with must have splashed up while he was washing his palette. he sets his drink down before bringing his thumb up to wipe the dot away. it swipes over his cheek but the green doesn't disappear.
"here," you speak up upon seeing that his motion was unsuccessful in removing the blotch. you lean across the table so you're closer to him, within arms reach. your index finger pokes out to gently scratch off the fleck of paint. it lingers for a moment—your finger that now has a green spot under the nail—as you scan the rest of tsukki's face. a close look that you've never been warranted before reveals a sprinkle of light freckles that dot his nose and sparsely spread to his cheeks. you're not sure why, but your eyes flit up to his. and he's looking right back at you. in this proximity, you can pick out flakes of gold like crushed foil sheets floating in the pools of honey.
you snatch your hand back when you realize you've been staring. with a fist over your mouth, you clear your throat in hopes that the tension you've created will dissolve with whatever's stuck in your pharynx. what on earth possessed me to do that? you berate yourself, choosing to look at your drink instead of tsukki. if you kept your eyes on him, you would have seen that he was feeling just as bashful as you. the tips of his ears burn a blistering red and he's also avoiding your gaze.
you discreetly shake your head in an attempt to physically rid your brain of any thoughts that have to do with being so close to tsukishima. they aren't unpleasant but they are the last thing you should be concerned with considering how badly your sculpture is progressing. you sit up at the reminder. it's a perfect excuse to move on from the awkwardness between you. "i guess that means your painting is going well."
tsukki nods. "i finished it today."
"really?" your voice squeaks and you pat your chest to regain your composure. while both of you are art students, you specialize in different mediums. despite this, you've always made an effort to keep up with tsukki's assignments and the schedule he's given. "don't you still have a week until it's due?"
"yeah. i didn't need all the time allotted."
you're torn. on one hand, you're amazed by tsukishima's efficiency—you have been since the two of you were first introduced to each other. despite how fast he works, he consistently produces exceptional pieces. he's a skilled artist who will have no trouble finding success after graduation. as proud as you are of him, you can never seem to bury the part of you that craves what he has—his competence, his speed, his talent. you don't want to doubt and reconsider each move your hands make. you don't want to constantly feel the weight of a deadline on your shoulders. you don't want to question whether or not you're cut out for this field.
your sudden silence doesn't go unnoticed by the blonde but he has no intention of pressuring you into telling him what you're thinking about. though, he has an inkling that it might be about the sculpture that's been giving you trouble. all the conversations you have with him are normal until any mention of your project comes up. tsukishima isn't one to pry and the last thing he wants is to agitate you by bringing it up, but he's at war with himself. could he call himself a good friend if he were to stand idly by when you needed him?
before he has the chance to ask if something's wrong, a soft smile makes its way to your face. it's almost as though the bout of quiet was nothing more than tsukki's imagination. he knows that isn't the case, but maybe this is your way of telling him that you aren't quite ready to disclose what's bothering you. so, he licks his lips and bites his tongue.
it's difficult, but you force yourself to set all of your coveting feelings aside. there's something else you're curious about, anyway. "since you wrapped that up early, what are you going to do with your free time in class?"
"i think i'm going to start a personal project," tsukki replies, mindlessly tapping at the cup in front of him with his finger.
"oh yeah? what is it? another painting?"
"it's a secret." the words alone are enough to make your lips part in surprise; tsukki always tells you what he's working on. even more surprising is what he does next. across from you, tsukki gestures locking his lips and tossing the key over his shoulder, all while sporting a smile.
you laugh. it's breathy and laced with disbelief but the humor is still there. in the two years you've known tsukki, he's never proven to be someone who jokes. he's sarcastic, that's for sure, but rarely a guy who goes out of his way to make others laugh. it's new and it's different but in this moment, his jesting is refreshing.
tsukki's just happy to have cheered you up, even if it's only a little bit.
• • •
another crumpled paper misses the waste bin next to your workstation. the sound of it hitting the floor seems to echo throughout the empty, silent studio. class ended hours ago and all of your peers had filed out then but you've been anchored to your seat since dismissal. the sun is setting now, dipping below the horizon. its dimming rays flood the room with a warm yellow. the quiet and setting sun should make for the perfect working environment but they don't. the silence is suffocating and despite the patches of golden sunlight peeking in through the windows, you're cold.
the stool you're sitting on creaks as you swivel to face your creation. time has passed since your first evaluation and you've made additions and alterations to your sculpture but every time you look at it for a second too long, you're filled with distaste. it's clear that you've made visible progress on the piece but you have yet to figure out what more you can pour into it—yet to answer your professor's question. the missing piece is beginning to piss you off.
your lips quiver and tears prick at your eyes. how pathetic, you think, crying over something like this. but the tears trickling down your cheeks and dripping off your chin aren't ones brought on by sadness. they're a byproduct of your frustration. you're frustrated because something you're supposed to love doing is giving you so much hardship, causing you so much stress that you'd rather destroy it than continue wasting time trying to find out what's wrong with it. you want to scream at the top of your lungs. your want to shove this poor excuse of a sculpture over and watch it shatter into little pieces, listen to it crack and break.
maybe that would give you some peace of mind.
the buzzing of your phone against the desk it's resting on distracts you from your destructive thoughts. you consider leaving it alone and letting it ring but the rational side of you is shouting to answer it. who knows what you'll get up to if you ignore it.
the vibrations continue as you wipe away your tears with the sleeve of your shirt. your vision is still bleary but you can make out tsukishima's contact name and photo. you don't want him to hear that you've been crying but you know he'll go out of his way to come here and check on you if you don't pick up. it's easier to hide your emotions over than phone than it is in person. so, with a resolute sniffle, you swipe the green phone icon to the right.
"hello?" your voice comes out more steady than you thought it would.
"hey." tsukki doesn't seem to notice the slight falter in your tone. you close your eyes in relief. "are you on your way?"
your eyebrows furrow at his question. were you supposed to be meeting him somewhere? "on my way where?"
"the movie theater." his words take a moment to register but as soon as they do, you gasp.
"oh my god, i completely forgot." you slap a hand to your cheek. you were the one who suggested going to see a movie tonight and you unintentionally stood tsukki up. you wonder how you're capable of forgetting the plans you made but the answer is obvious and it's right behind you. that damned sculpture. "i'm so sorry, tsukki. i'll pay you back for the tickets."
"it's fine, don't worry about it." his response leaves no room for argument. you've come to learn that fighting over matters like these with him is useless; he'll always win. so, instead, you sigh in defeat.
"are you still on campus?" he asks. you almost laugh. are you really that predictable?
you hum, spinning around to look at your piece. your head tilts to the right as your eyes follow the figure up from its head and down to its feet. you thoughtfully chew your lower lip. seeking out help has never been a strong suit of yours but the fact that tsukki called in the middle of your mini freak-out must have been the universe's way of telling you to swallow your pride. maybe a fresh perspective would help get you through this slump. "actually, can i ask you for a favor?"
"can you help me refresh on dynamic anatomy? something's off with my sculpture and i think it might be the proportions."
"sure," his answer comes a lot quicker than you expect it to, especially considering how easily you forgot about the movie you had planned this evening. though, it shouldn't have come as too much of a surprise. tsukki doesn't hold grudges—not with you, at least—and he even offered his help after hearing about your nightmare of an evaluation. "when should we meet?"
you're inclined to say right now but you stop yourself. it would be rude to take the time that was once set aside for a fun outing and use it to research instead. "tomorrow night if you're free. we can study at mine."
"i'll be there."
• • •
the scratch of your pencil against the white sheet of paper along with the continuous hum of your air conditioner are the only noises that fill your room. tsukishima isn't one for meaningless chatter and usually you wouldn't mind but right now his silence makes you feel as though he's staring you down like a hawk. you can't be sure of how long it's been since you started but you do know that it has felt like an eternity. your hand is beginning to cramp and the dull throb in your skull is a warning of an oncoming headache. you toss the pad of paper onto the empty spot of your mattress between you and tsukki. your head meets your pillow with a groan as you squeeze your eyes shut.
tsukki looks up from his textbook to inspect your work. the stretched arm sketched out on the page of your notebook is perfect, practiced, and the opposite of what he'd expect of someone who needed his guidance. he has a sneaking suspicion that the so-called "something wrong" with your project is nothing more than a product of your overthinking. still, he doesn't enjoy seeing you this stressed.
"do you want to take a break?" tsukki suggests. his book closes with a thump. he peers down at you, patiently waiting for your reply.
you nod, eyes still shut. with your thumb and index finger, you create the smallest gap that you can without looking. "just a short one."
the stillness that characterized the room a few minutes ago returns. tsukki glances over your figure; you're resting comfortably, head denting your fluffy pillow, hands joined on your tummy. it's nice to see you in such a pleasant state. the blonde was beginning the think he'd have to get used to seeing you with a crease between your eyebrows and a frown on your face. he knows the contentment you're feeling now won't last forever, but he can at least try to prolong it. he rakes a hand through his hair and shakes it as though the action will dispel the unusual jitters coursing through him. "would you like to see what i've been working on?"
you shoot up so quickly that your visions spots. a few rapid blinks are enough to solve your problem. with a turn of your head, tsukki appears before you. "you have it with you? it's done?"
he simply nods.
"yes, i wanna see it!" you practically shout at him as though your answer should be obvious. and, to you, it should be. there's never been a time when you weren't bursting at the seams with excitement to see one of tsukki's pieces. you reach out and grab his arm, squeezing his bicep eagerly. "show me."
after prying your fingers off my around his arm, tsukki's hand disappears into the side of his backpack. whatever he's looking for doesn't evade him for long because it only takes him a couple seconds to straighten back up with the item in his hold. he sets something in front of you, something you can't say you were expecting. it's a box—a small, white, plain box.
you eye the container suspiciously before facing your friend. "this... doesn't look like a painting to me. or a drawing, at that."
"just open it," he urges you with a light nudge to your shoulder. you don't miss the way the corners of his lips twitch into a smile.
you snicker at his veiled annoyance while picking up the thin, rectangular box. the lid is snug and you have to shimmy it a bit to remove it from the rest of the case. your labor reveals a piece of jewelry. hanging from a dainty chain is a butterfly charm. its wings up top are blue and the set on the bottom are purple. they're similar to those of the butterfly you saw in the arboretum but the colors are lighter and more translucent—much softer.
"a necklace?" you question, carefully taking the adornment out of its box. the pendant sways like a pendulum with your movement and your gaze follows it back and forth. "who's it for?"
the gentle swinging stops when tsukki's hand stretches out to take the necklace from you. you're taken aback and the tiniest bit wounded by his indirect answer. he doesn't give you any time to dwell on the matter because it only takes a second for him to unclasp the metal fastener and bring the necklace around your throat. the pendant sits cozily against your jugular notch as tsukki clips the latch back in place. a set of large hands come to rest on your shoulders and they gingerly turn you towards the mirror in front of your bed.
"it's for you," tsukki speaks, letting his hands fall back to his sides. he observes your countenance in the reflection of the mirror in hopes of reading your reaction, though, you're too occupied staring at the necklace. the expression you wear is calm, but tsukishima can pick up on that same sparkle in your eyes—the one from the day when he decided to make the piece of jewelry for you, the envious one.
"pretty," you whisper.
you said that then, too, that they were pretty. that wasn't the only thing he recalled you saying you liked about butterflies. "you should take notes from them."
without looking up, you huff out a laugh. "are you saying i'm ugly?"
"no, you're plenty pretty," tsukki clears up his previous statement. you were joking with him but his clarification leads you to meet his eye in the mirror. as easily as his statement was delivered, there's a troubled line between his brows. "i just mean... can i offer you some advice?"
others might view tsukki as a serious person, but you rarely see that side of him. his hardened, golden eyes harbor a sense of urgency behind them. you hold his stare and curtly nod in a gesture for him to continue.
"about your sculpture," he starts, a hand reaching back to scratch his neck. he knows his words are necessary, knows that you need to hear them, but he finds that there's something strange about him giving you guidance. he isn't one to instruct or give his opinion in most situations but yours is a special case. you're special. "you're thinking too technically about things. nothing's wrong with it; you just haven't found a piece of you to put into it yet. free yourself from the confines of expectation and start to think about what you want to express through your sculpture."
tsukki left you with his input at least a couple hours ago but as you lay in bed, it still feels like he's beside you. his cologne lingers on your sheets—cedar and grapefruit; the one you got him for his birthday last year. you close your eyes and inhale deeply. a wave of serenity washes over you as you take in the fragrance.
your pointer finger traces the shape of the butterfly pendant resting between the dip in your collarbone. tsukki's words echo in your head. you haven't found a piece of you to put into it yet. is that really the solution to your problem? would that satisfy your professor? will it satisfy you?
there's no way of knowing unless you try. and, luckily for you, your new necklace has given you the perfect idea of what to express through your piece.
• • •
for the first time since you've started working on your sculpture, you're happy, excited even. the sense of dread that used to suffocate you whenever looked at your project disappeared the day after your chat with tsukki. you spent the entire night thinking about what you could do to give the cold, bare figure some character in your likeness. it came easier than you ever thought it would and that's all thanks to tsukishima. without him and his help, you were on track to turn in an assignment you absolutely hated and was sure to earn a mediocre grade at best.
for the past week and a half, you've devoted just as much time to the sculpture as you did when it was nothing more than an ugly reminder of your shortcomings—but this time around, you aren't searching for something to fix. you're adapting it—changing its expression, adjusting its pose, adding elements you wouldn't have even considered without tsukki giving you a helping hand. you don't end up scrapping anything but by the time you've put on the finishing touches, it feels like a completely new piece—one that you're proud of.
you can't wait to show tsukki.
it's the day before your project is due and, surprisingly, you leave class on time. now that your sculpture is finished entirely, there's no reason for you to stick around in the building until the sky is dark and the moon and stars start their shift. you do have one more order of business in the studio before you call it a day, though, and he should be departing from his own class right about now.
right on cue, a crowd of students pushes past the doors to the lecture hall you're waiting outside of. tsukki is easy to pick out amongst the rest and you wave him over as soon as he catches sight of you.
"hey! ready to see it?" you ask as your companion approaches.
he can practically see the excitement radiating off of you. you're beaming and bouncing on the balls of your feet. the show of enthusiasm brings a smile to tsukki's face. he jerks his head in the direction of your building, "lead the way."
you turn on your heel to begin your journey and tsukki follows. the weather is nice today—the sun is out but it's not too hot and there's a cool breeze in the air. you're already in a good mood but the environment seems to elevate it even more. so much so that you almost forget something you planned this morning.
"oh!" you stop in your tracks. tsukki almost bumps into you but catches himself before he does. luckily you're just outside your destination so it's not too late to go through with your little arrangement. you sling your bag to the side and dig around it until you find the object your hurriedly stuffed in it hours earlier. tsukki's beside you now and you can feel him staring down at you. you spin to look at him and hold out the item. "here. put this on."
he eyes your outstretched hand with a humored snort. "you brought your sleep mask from home?"
"just put it on or you'll ruin the big reveal." you shove the koala bear eye mask into his chest, holding it there until his hand comes up to take it. tsukki has always had a hard time saying no to you and now is no different—especially with how happy you are. how could he deny you of this? with that thought, tsukki takes the fluffy grey eye cover and situates it on the upper half of his face. a few pieces of his sandy blonde hair stick up haphazardly due to the elastic band. you giggle at the sight.
"i'll guide you, give me your hand," you instruct him, wiggling your fingers despite the fact that he can't see you. he holds his palm up and you take it, intertwining your fingers with his and tugging him behind you. his hand is warm and a lot softer than you expected it would be. holding it with yours feels normal... and right. you struggle to fight the growing smile on your face as you lead tsukki through your building.
there are a few turns and a flight of stairs but, thankfully, you're able to get him to the studio without much trouble. when you pass the threshold that is the door, you swear you can feel your heart rate pick up. the organ threatens to jump into your throat with each step you take towards your sculpture. once there's a considerable gap between you and your piece, you pull on tsukki's hand to stop him.
"are we here?" he asks.
"yeah." at your word, he moves to take the animal-themed cover off his face. the movement makes you panic.
"wait!" you yell, snatching his hands away and holding them in yours. tsukki's eyes aren't visible but you're sure they would have widened in surprise at your abrupt outburst. hell, you're even caught off guard by the turn of events. less than five minutes ago you were about ready to explode with excitement at the mere thought of finally showing tsukki your project. you aren't sure where this sudden bout of fear came from.
you look over your shoulder to the fruits of your labor. just seeing it swells you with a sense of pride. it reminds you of how far you've come and tsukki's the one who helped get you to this point. there's nothing for you to be afraid of. taking a deep breath, you release tsukki's hands and step to the side. "okay," you nod, "you can look."
slowly, tsukki reaches up to remove his blindfold.
it's much different than the little peek he got of it before you hid it from him that handful of weeks ago. he expected as much but it's more than clear that you took his advice to heart. it takes as little as a quick glance to tell that you found exactly what you thought was worth expressing in it. and tsukki thinks that the message you chose to share is fitting.
the expression on the face of your statue conveys a mixture of emotions. the furrow in its brows isn't one of confusion or anger, it's one of strain and trouble. the lips are parted, not in surprise or shock, but in struggle. its countenance is apprehensive yet hopeful. further down the body, the sculpture isn't as bare. there's foliage—lianas—at its feet that travel up its legs, roping them in and rooting them to the ground—trapping them where they stand. the right one is positioned mid-step and beginning to break free from the vines wrapped around it. the arm on the same side is stretched out in reach of something and its fingers are bent—almost as if the figure is attempting to grasp whatever it's chasing.
a look to the left reveals what the sculpture is after—a swarm of colorful butterflies.
your eyes flit over to tsukki who hasn't spoken a word. his amber irises are honed in on your project and you can't tell what's swimming behind them. his quiet plants a seed of uncertainty within you but you don't give it a chance to sprout, don't allow it any sunlight or water to blossom. you're tired of questioning yourself and your abilities. this project is physical proof that you've grown—enough so that you know your worth as an artist isn't dependent on anyone else's opinion. still, you'd be lying if you said you weren't curious about what tsukki thought. he was more helpful than anyone throughout this entire process.
"so..." your voice slices through the silence. "what do you think?"
for the first time since taking off the silly sleep mask you had given him to put on, tsukki looks at you. and this time around, his face shows exactly what he's thinking. the corners of his eyes crinkle with the smile he wears. it's a rare one—not sarcastic or half-hearted or the mere upward tug of his lips. "i think it's amazing. good job, you."
his empty hand comes up to ruffle the hair atop your head. any other time you'd playfully scold him for so carelessly ruining your appearance but all you can do in this moment is smile in return. there's a different kind of affection behind his familiar action—one that tells you he's proud of you. with his hand still resting on your head, tsukki asks, "how do you feel now that it's done?"
you look to your sculpture. instinctively, your hand reaches up to the butterfly hanging from your neck. upon touching it, your answer comes instantly.
thanks for reading! comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
Hi! Can i request what would the re8 ladies + mia winters react to y/n sending them nudes
18+ Minors DNI
Hi! Of course! I'm happy to see someone request specifically for Mia! Let's get into it!
Hopefully, she wasn't in the middle of taking a huge sip of wine when you sent that text. Otherwise, the entire side of the room she was in is now covered in sanguis virginis.
Depending on if the pics show a lot or a little, Alcina will be flustered accordingly.
Alcina asks if you could send a few more. She claims the first one was a little blurry. Little minx.
I hope you know what you started. Alcina demands nudes at least once a day now.
Oh, poor baby. You better tell her you plan on doing this beforehand. She will go into a complete gay panic otherwise.
She has never felt so naughty in her life.
If you send her a few, she'll pick a favorite and periodically check her phone throughout the day to ogle it.
Donna might even go so far as to send you one as well... This will only happen if you've been together for a long time, though. She'll blush like mad when you tell her you got the picture... Then ask you what you thought.
Miranda doesn't quite know what to think when she first opens your text... Don't be offended. I feel like homegirl just doesn't understand a lot of modern things.
Once she has time to process, hot damn. To her, this is the best thing humans have come up with since the invention of tea bags! She should know, she was there.
Miranda taunts you with a few pics of her own.
You almost develop a nosebleed after she sends you the first one.
She is also the type to freak out if you don't tell her what nudes are before sending some.
She is a prim and proper woman! She shouldn't be looking at such dirty pictures!
She does try to bait you into sending more because she loves them even if she won't admit it.
Bela giggles like mad when she opens any texts from you. She is constantly hoping you will have sent a collection of steamy pics. It's like Christmas for her.
Cass doesn't understand a lot of modern technology, I'm convinced.
If she has a phone, I bet it's like one of those simplified phones for seniors XD
You'll probably just have to shove your phone in her face so she can see them. Cass's eyes widen when she realizes what you're showing her. She is a big fan.
Cass is obsessed and wants to know if you'll help her take some pics of herself. Lucky you 😏
Dani would have sent you nudes first. Definitely. It's part of her flirting strategy.
She really goes all out too. Elaborate outfits, sexy poses. Wowee.
If you send her nudes? She knows you're a keeper, for sure.
Dani immediately drops everything and forces you to help her relieve some... Excitement that your photos caused her.
Dani would be a great camgirl. 100% She has the perfect personality and gorgeous features to boot!
Mia is a sweetheart. She's pretty innocent, but your photos have her in a constant state of sexual frustration.
She just wants you all the time now. Day or night, you better come and see her when she gets nudes from you.
I think she would send you nudes of herself to pay you back. Fair is fair.
Mia's pretty face and banging bod? Yes, please.
I think Mia would be somewhat embarrassed at getting nudes from you at first, but she quickly gets over that because she just loves looking at the pictures so much.
Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x Gn!Reader
Summary: Allison’s wedding, forgotten gifts. Love. And annoying siblings.
Notes: implied smut, established relationship. This is a long one shot- I got carried away! Umbrella Ben is alive. Dave and sissy are in this timeline. Allison is marrying Ray! Also probably like tons of spelling mistakes.
Here you sat, atop the kitchen counter watching him write the RSVP for Allison’s wedding, beside you, repeatedly clicking the black pen. “Why didn’t she just put her number on this goddamn invitation, I mean, do you see the point of sending her mail she’ll never open!” He looked up to you, frustration written all over his face, family events were hard for him, you understood him completely. “She’s just being old- fashioned, don’t worry, she’ll open it.” You traced circles along his hand to reassure him, you smiled slightly at him as he lifted the card to your face. “15 dollars on a stupid wedding card, she better open it or I’m taking it back!” Diego sat on the counter with a huff and you chuckled at his attitude, “You’d keep a wedding card addressed to your sister?” He confused you sometimes but you sort of understood what he meant. “Oh shut up!” He slammed the pen on the table and you lifted your hands up in defence jokingly, “Sorry, please don’t attack.” He just rested his head on your shoulder in defeat, “I probably won’t even get there on time, the wedding is tomorrow, I don’t even have a gift for her!” You rested your head on top of his and put your arm over his torso, “Well, we have 5 hours until our plane takes off so… buy some airport perfume or something?” You tried to lighten the mood and he did laugh but you knew that the world famous Allison Hargreeves probably wouldn’t want some airport perfume as a wedding gift. “You know what! Screw the damn RSVP, we’ll be scandalous and show up ‘uninvited’ how’s that sound?” He spoke, his words vibrating from your shoulder where he lay, you could feel his smile on your skin as he spoke. “Diego Hargreeves.” You joked and hit his arm.
An hour went by and You and Diego were shoving last minute essentials into your suitcases before the taxi arrived. “I think we are the most unprepared people on the planet!” You yelled over to Diego who was in the bathroom down the hall, putting his Deodorant into a clear bag along with his shaving cream. You on the other hand we’re adding Diegos pyjamas to the suitcase, since he ‘forgot’. He failed to realise that klaus loves to wake people up at the stupidest hours in the morning and probably wouldn’t want to see his brother naked beside his best friend. “You think? I heard that Viktor had his shit packed last week for this thing!” You scrunched your face at Diego’s words, you guys loved to wait until last minute and the stress creeping up forced you to do it. “Speaking of being unprepared, how long has that taxi been waiting outside?” Diego shouted over to you, you froze for a whole of 5 seconds before checking the alarm clock beside the bed. “Shit!Shit!Shit!” You quite literally threw Diego’s close in and shut the suitcase before running out the front door. Diego bolted out of the bathroom and to the taxi, not caring that he forgot to lock the door. “Shit! My suitcase-” he yelled as soon as he put his seatbelt on and the car was already starting to move. “It’s in the trunk, dumbass.” You pointed over, “you forget I was using it to pack your stuff which you forgot?” You used quotations with your hands when saying forgot, Diego just smirked and looked out the window, “thank you.” He muttered.
The whole of the city was just covered in traffic, bumper to bumper and you let out a tired sigh, Diego’s hand rested on your thigh as he snored into your neck, you’ve been in the taxi for all of 45 minutes and he’s already sleeping, oh this flight would be fun! The driver turned around and shrieked slightly seeing your boyfriend using you as a pillow, she just smiled, “if the traffic clears up any, we should be there in 15 minutes.” You smiled to her and she turned around. You gazed over to Diego who looked oh so peaceful resting on you his chest rising and falling as he slept. You decided to close your eyes for the remainder of the journey, after all, you needed to rest before this wedding. Beside him.
You were awakened by the loud blaring of a car horn, you and Diego shot up in panic and the driver just giggled, “Sorry to wake you, but you guys are at the airport now.” Diego looked angry that he was woken up, he yawned quite dramatically, as you payed the taxi driver and made your way into the airport. It was filled with crowds of people ready to travel, a majority of the siblings booked the same flight as you both. Five said he’d just blink there using his power and Luther was already there since yesterday with Grace and Pogo so it was You and Diego, Klaus and Dave, Viktor and Sissy and Ben all on the same flight, how chaotic.
As you boarded the flight you saw Klaus and Ben arguing over where each of them were putting their luggage. “I sit here so I’m putting it here!” Yelled Ben trying to get his brother to move his overhead luggage. “Not fair asshole, I put it there first.” Then Dave walked by seeing that they were having trouble, “Klaus, there is literally and overhead compartment beside our seats, just put it there and leave Ben alone.” Dave always knew how to ground klaus, he always listened to him, we loved Dave Katz. Sissy and Viktor were in the rows between Ben and Klaus, “Do you need a drink? Are you feeling any better?” Viktor asked Sissy who you assumed has a sore throat, Harlan sat with headphones on watching a movie beside them and you already noticed that Diego made his way beside Ben. “Thank God your beside me, I was scared klaus hacked my phone and found out what seats I booked so he could sit beside me.” Ben rambled on and on about klaus not leaving his side the whole morning and Diego just laughed as he sat beside his brother. “Well Ben, you’re stuck with us for a whole 2 and a half hours!” You spoke as you lifted your luggage into the compartment and sat beside Diego. “I’d rather it be you guys, honestly.” He smiled and turned back to the book he was reading.
“Baby, did you pack my headphones?” Diego didn’t even need you to answer as he saw you take them out of your back pack, “you wouldn’t shut up about your dream of forgetting them last night, and I didn’t want to hear you complain the whole flight so, here you go.” You smiled to him and kissed his cheek. “What would I do without you?” He whispered as he held your hand in his. “You’d have a freak out over turbulence, and hold onto Ben for dear life.” You laughed at him, he just squeezed your hand as he realised the plane was going to take off shortly. “I’m still going to freak out over turbulence. With it without you.” He closed his eyes shut as the flight attendant walked by with a tray of food, seeing the tray shake slightly made him incredibly nervous. “Hey, it’s all okay, we haven’t even taken off yet.” You soothes him but his eyes remained closed, you looked down to his phone then to his earphones on his lap, you lifted them from him and plugged it into his phone. “Here, try listening to music.” You handed him his phone and he smiled, “you want an earbud to listen too?” He asked and you nodded.
The plane took off an hour ago and their had been a few complaints from passengers about Klaus’ need to laugh so loud at anything Dave said, most of those complaints were from Ben. You could practically feel Ben’s smirk anytime a flight attendant told Klaus to ‘keep the volume down’. Diego had drifted off to sleep after you playing with his hair to get him to calm down because of his fear of flying. You stole the other earbud from his ear, so you could listen to music on your own phone. “Get off me!” You heard Ben complain as Diego’s head fell on his shoulder, “sorry, he’s a cuddler.” You laughed as you moved Diego away from ben, you just allowed your boyfriend to rest on you as, what other choice did you have? A few more minutes passed until you felt a tap on your shoulder from no one other that Dave, “Hey, how’s it going?” You smiled up at him, you and Dave had become really good friends since he and Klaus first met, he was the funniest guy, always knew the best jokes to make. You noticed that Ben had moved from his seat and sat beside Sissy, due to the fact that Diego’s snoring annoyed the shit out of him, it annoyed everyone. And that the seat was free beside the couple. Dave sat beside Diego and the both of you talked until the flight attendant asked everyone to return to their normal seats. “Well I’ll see you when the plane lands.” He smiled and went back over to a sleeping klaus. When Ben returned he sighed and rolled his eyes because Diego had turned his sleeping figure to face his seat, it made him irritated. “I love my brother, so much, but I hate it when he sleeps. Even when we were kids, he wouldn’t stop snoring in my face, it was only me he did it to.” Ben took his seat and began to annoy Diego, for pay back. He hit his cheek until he woke up, “Fuck off ben!” He turned over to face you, peaceful with headphones on, secretly not wanting him to find out it was all your plan. Diego glared daggers at you and removed on earbud from your ear, you turned to meet his tired eyes, “morning sunshine.” You teased and he took his earphones back. “We are just about to land, so not another sound out of you two, understand?” He pointed to you and Ben and placed the earphones in his ear, relaxing ever so slightly.
Once the plane landed we all found our way into a bus which took us to the hotel. “Hey, so it turns out that we have the room next to each other, isn’t that amazing.” Klaus laughed mockingly and You, Dave and Diego all yelled, “No!” Diego tried to move away from his lively brother but with no luck. Every other seat was full. “I just want this day to be over already!” Diego mumbled under his breath but you heard him loud and clear. “Hey, you guys! Did any of us buy Allison and Raymond a gift?” You heard Viktor shout from across the bus, the rest of you looked to each other and said in unison, “Shit!” Then the bus came to a stop, just outside the Hotel you were staying at. It was so beautiful, so beautiful that it cost 7 months of saving for you and Diego to pay for it.
“Holy Christ it’s beautiful!” Klaus applauded as if he’d won the jackpot, you all exited the bus and made your way through the golden double doors. “I want to sleep so bad.” Diego laughed, “we are going to our room, now!” You smirked up at him as you reached the desk. “Room for Hargreeves please?” He asked the man serving us to be met with his utmost confusion, “Oh, sir, I’m afraid we must’ve quadruple booked your room, there are four Hargreeves staying this weekend apparently.” Ben, Diego, Klaus and Viktor all looked at each other and let out a laugh. “We’re all Hargreeves.” They said in unison and then the man asked for their first names. The confusion was resolved and you got the key for your room. To quote klaus, “It’s Beautiful!” You gasped, grabbing Diego’s hand and walking into the large room. “Isn’t it just…” klaus yelled through the wall, he really wasn’t kidding, he got the room beside yours! Diego raised his eyebrows and gave his brother the middle finger, that he couldn’t see.
It was getting late, 11PM to be exact, Diego was already closing his eyes at the thought of sleeping in bed, he dragged himself over to the queen sized bed and jumped onto it, sighing happily. You on the other hand we’re looking at the room service menu, “You hungry?” He asked, now looking at you adoringly, you smiled while looking down at the menu, “…for food yes.” You answered Diego, shooting down his eager request. “Damn, that’s a shame, I was kinda hoping for some-” then you saw a figure standing beside you, looking down at the card in your hand, “Hoping for some what? They got shrimp if you want something fancy.” Raymond smiled over at the two of you, that when you realised you left the bedroom door open. “Hi, Ray! It’s so good to see you!” You stood and hugged your future in-law, he hugged you with a tight grip, so happy that you could make it to his wedding. Diego but his bottom lip in embarrassment at what Ray just walked in on, “Hello Raymond! How’s it going?” You could practically taste the awkwardness radiating from Diego. “Well, Diego, just checking up on all the Hargreeves, majority of my folks haven’t made it yet, my mom is having some car troubles so my sister is going to help her now as we speak.” You frowned at the thought of his family not being able to make it on time, but your sure the Hargreeves have made him feel just at home already. “Shit man, sorry to hear about that. Talking about the shrimp yeah we should definitely get it, isn’t that right honey!” Diego shot you a look as if to clear the tension, there was no tension but Diego gets flustered when people walk in on him in a bedroom. “Yeah, is the shrimp good Ray?” Raymond smiled looking over at the menu now on the table, his eyes glossed over everything on it, “Ohh, they have killer garlic bread too, you should get some. I’ll catch you guys later.” He smiled then walked out to go find Ben. “Oh, garlic bread?! It’s like he doesn’t want us to get any tonight..” You let out a sound of shocked laughter which made Diego grin, “Oh shut up!” You laughed hitting his arm.
As a way to celebrate Sissy had brought some champagne to your room, “Got a little surprise for you both.” She opened the door to your room and almost dropped the glasses in her hands at the sight of both you and Diego on the bed. “Shit!” Diego cursed, putting the covers over both of your now sweaty naked bodies. “Oh god no.” You muttered now seeing the scene unravel in front of you. Sissy ran out of the room in a state of shock, leaving the glasses of champagne outside the door, unharmed. Diego brought his knees to his chest and his hands to his forehead, “No, Viktor is going to murder us!” You sat facing Diego’s side, your hand on his knee, still in a state of embarrassment and shock. “Poor Sissy, she didn’t ask for this. All she wanted to do was celebrate-” Diego looked at your hand on his skin, watching as you traced your fingers up and down his thigh, “-guess we just beat her to it.” Diego finished off your sentence, and you shot him a glare, “You asshole Diego Hargreeves!” He watched as you chuckled in between words, and dragged him back down under the covers.
Dave was walking down the hall to find sissy at his bedroom door waiting for someone to open it, “Hey, sis what’s wrong?” He asked taking Sissy’s arm in his, worried at her scared expression. “I just walked in on Diego and y/n.” She looked at Dave, almost laughing in shock. “Oh, well no point knocking on our door, Klaus and I were down in the bar having a couple of drinks with Raymond and Ben, waiting on Allison and her bridesmaids.” Dave tried to lighten the mood, “Seems like you got the shock of your life, but believe me, you aren’t the only one it’s happened to. Remember the family vacation to Greece, happened to me. Not long before it happens to Ray.” Sissy began to laugh as she saw Viktor walking down the hall, looking at the lonesome champagne glasses. “They not in their room?” Viktor asked, wondering why Sissy and Dave were laughing over at the door where you and Diego were. “They’re in their room alright.” Sissy laughed and as Dave was about to elaborate, Diego opened the door with nothing but a bathrobe rushed onto him, reaching for the champagne glasses until he looked up to see half of his family outside the door. Viktor’s face quirked as he finally caught onto what happened to Sissy, and Dave simply waved at his brother in law jokingly. “Diego, I’m going to kill you!” Viktor smirked shaking his head. “Sorry. I didn’t know we were getting any visitors. Sorry sissy.” Diego gave Sissy a sympathetic smile raising the glasses slightly as if the say thank you then walked back into the room.
“Well, that was fucking awkward.” Diego sighed, handing you some champagne and getting back into bed. You gladly took it from his hand and kissed his blushed cheeks, “Well, at least you apologised, baby.” You held in a laugh and took a sip of the drink in front of you. “Everyone is drinking in the bar, you wanna go? Get some shrimp?” Diego winked at you as he got out of bed to try and get some clothes on, you did the same. “You always gotta be such a tease, don’t you?” You laughed, pulling your shirt over your head, messing your hair up a little. “Let’s go!”
At the bar you found everyone around a circular table laughing at something Viktor had said, “Speak of the devils.” Allison sounded through the room and everyone began to stare at you and Diego, hand in hand walking into the bar/lounge. “Lovely to see you too, sis.” Diego retorted, and sat beside Klaus and you sat beside Ben. After a few drinks had passed and the DJ began playing some music, did everyone forget the embarrassment you, Diego and Sissy faced earlier today. I’m fairness it’s did take Dave and the other about 3 months to stop talking about the Greece incident so you though it was only fair for them to joke. Diego on the other hand did not. He hated drawing attention to himself yet did it so often anyways.
After the long night you barely got many hours of sleep, everybody was up until all hours in the morning consuming alcohol and sharing embarrassing stories of one another. Klaus told one of Ben the first night he stayed at college, let’s just say it ended with Ben in a boys room, 3 blocks from his college.
You didn’t want to wake up from the so little sleep you had, but the wedding was today, you were going to party late all over again. Diego was surprisingly already in the bathroom getting ready as he loved to let you stay in bed and rest until like 5 minutes before you had to leave. He was in there quite a while, you could hear him rummaging through you bag.
“You forgot the toothbrushes!”
Chapter 1:Meet the weird cult guy by yourself!?!?
Pairing:Eddie Munson x Shy Bimbo Reader
☆Tags: Reader been dumb and sensitive, Soft Boi Eddie, Bossy/Asshole Best Friend, Mentions of human sacrifice, Also mentions of cults and devil,mentions drugs
((☆This story takes place before the whole events of the shows actually begin.Also this story is Plus-sized friendly and POC friendly!Have fun reading beautiful people!
"Why me!" You said in a soft irritated tone with your cheek puffed up. "Because! I don't want to be near that freak! God forbidden what he does in those damn woods." She snorted after her sentence about Eddie Munson 'The School Freak'. You always wonder why everyone in school calls him that maybe because of the way he dressed?Or! Could it be that he plays music from his van during his free period that has people screaming in the background with loud guitar melody in the background mixing in with the blood screaming? Who knows? Everyone who attends this crappy high school are usually assholes or just antisocial sucking in their own little groups.
Your best friend grabbed your attention by snapping her fingers in front of your face multiple times. "Hello!Anyone home in that stupid brain of yours!" She hit you upside in your head. "Ow!" You rubbed the side of your head softly. "You meanie...Why did you hit me?" You said in your usually soft tone. "Because you zoned out again for the fourth time again today! You should really get that checked out." She said in an annoying tone. "Do I really have to do it! He scares me and you heard about the rumor going around about him…." You froze for a second and leaned over to whisper in her ear. "Owning a cult…." Your best friend busted into her ugly laugh. "Are you kidding me! Is poor little innocent (Y/N) scared of the big scary Eddie Munson who lives in his van!"She started poking your sides and kept laughing at you. "I'm being serious! What if he uses me as a human sacrifice to his cult!"You gasp the thought of you being laid on a table and seeing Eddie wear a black cult robe to suffice you to his demon lord! Made your skin crawl!
You gripped on your best friend's arms and started shedding tears ruining your eye makeup in the process. "Please! I'm too young to die! I want to live my life to the fullest! I want to see Hollywood and at least see London-" Your friend gripped on your shoulders tightly and started shaking you gently."Calm the fuck down you crybaby! You're not going to be a human sacrifice! Be realistic (Y/N) he just some weird guy who sells drugs and can't even pass fucking English!" She stopped shaking you and sighed under her breath.
"(Y/N)" please. Can you please do this for your bestie. Just this one favor." She gave you a soft smile. She knew exactly how to pull at your heart strings using the bestie line with you and showing her more sensitive side of herself. But can you really say no to her? She is literally the only person you talk to ever since middle school. She was the only person who let you hangout with her and her other friends during lunchtime and really the only person that didn't ignore you. "Please bestie." She said again. You sighed softly and nodded yes to her. She clapped her hands together and jumped up and down in excitement. "Thank you so much bestie!"she hugs you tightly almost losing your breath during her hugging you. "I can't breathe…" You patted her back roughly, she let go of you and started digging into her lavender backpack. "What are you looking for?" You squint your eyebrows. "Money duh." She took out her pastel pink wallet and handed you two twenty dollars. "Alright listen closely you potato. I need two bags of weed and paper to roll up blunts. Got it (Y/N)?" To be honest you already forgot what she said. "Ummm...Five blunt papers and a quarter of weed…?" You squint your eyebrows even more mostly in pure confusion. "Took you listen closely!"She pinched your left cheek."Ow!" She lets go off your cheek and starts digging in her lavender backpack again."I just write it down for you since you can't remember shit! You have a brain of a fucking goldfish but worst!" She ripped an empty notebook page and started writing down the items she needed from Eddie. "Here, goldfish!"She slammed the notebook paper against your chest."Meet him at the empty picnic table in the woods okay. After that meet me in the parking lot." You held the piece of paper against your chest tightly and nodded your head.
You started walking into the creepy forest to meet a drug dealer who mostly likely owns a cult! You keep walking, clunking your (Favorite color☆) backpack tightly that was hanging off your shoulder while your cute keychain dingle from one of your zippers every moment you made your keychains would make a clicking sound. You keep walking in deeper on the woods looking for the picnic table to meet Eddie and grab these stupid ideas for your friend. It was quite peaceful in the forest hearing the birds chirp and just a peaceful ending in general. Everything was fine until you snapped on a stick and scared your own self which made you run like a bat out of hell. You keep running until you see the empty picnic table in the middle of the open. You stopped running looking around and taking deep breaths from your little workout you had. You walked over to the small picnic table and had a seat. You took the money and piece of notebook paper you reversed from your friend earlier today. You held the items close to your chest and waited.
It felt like an hour had passed away waiting for Eddie. You started to grow tired and anxious. 'Maybe his demon lord finally got him! Or he forgot about the meet up after school!' You said to yourself. Your thoughts were interrupted by a sudden snap coming from the trees when you heard some type of chain hitting something. The chain sound was getting louder and closer to you. Your whole body started shaking slightly and you kept staring at trees where the metal sound was coming from.
'OH MY GOSH! I'M GOING TO BE A HUMAN SACRIFICE!!!!!'
You know, thinking about it, I imagine the Leverage crew are pretty philanthropic. Parker might have had to be introduced to the concept (”You just give them money and they go away with it? How does that work?”) but probably once she got her head around it she’d be into it.
What gets me is how god damned frustrating it would be to work somewhere that one of the Leverage crew supports. Nate would be okay, he’d just make small monthly gifts to ten million different organizations so that nobody thinks he’s worth very much (he doesn’t own his home and he gives such small amounts monthly that Development writes him off as an earnest but low-capacity donor who should get a thank-you card around the holidays). It’s probably a bigger inconvenience to him because he’s on every nonprofit mailing list known to man. He has so many address labels, guys. (I don’t want to be Nate but I am Nate. I have so many address labels.)
Sophie I imagine has an extravagant alias for every charity she supports; she gives outrageous amounts and in return demands only attention and adulation, tickets to all the galas, and to be in at least one photo in every annual report. We have a donor like this -- she’s genuinely invested in our work, gives generously of her time and money, is never rude or demanding, but if she’s in the room all eyes must be on her at all times. I actually really like her but constant exposure could get...tiring.
Eliot just sends enormous, anonymous checks once a year through a shell company or DAF, which while not unusual would be irritating in that they can’t ever reach out to thank him and/or steward him into a larger gift appealing to his interests. They can’t even send him dumb swag! He deserves a charity-branded bottle opener and keychain flashlight! (He has stolen all of Nate’s, but they don’t know that.) Still, they’ve probably got a fun nickname for him; I have a few people in my research files who are simply named after characters from Greek mythology because that’s all the data I have or am allowed to store.
For a long time Hardison just dumped money into the bank accounts of his charities of choice, seamlessly, invisibly -- it just APPEARED in the account, and he was cool with that until he checked back after a few years and found none of his money was being used because they couldn’t figure out where it was coming from and were worried it was a clerical error despite the bank assuring them otherwise. Now he still dumps money into the accounts but he entertains himself building an elaborate digital paper trail so that the accounting all works. Have you ever watched a Gift Processing office try to balance a nonprofit’s books? Sometimes they cry! Don’t be mean to them, Hardison.
Parker, bless her heart, just leaves bags of money on the doorsteps of random employees with notes directing how, in general terms, it should be spent. If she’s particularly pleased with the climbability of their home, she leaves a donut for them, too. Generally if she mentions she’s done this to the crew, Eliot calls up the charity to assure them that the large bag of cash was a legitimate donation and is not some kind of money-laundering scam. (That was ONE TIME Eliot, and the IRS didn’t even NOTICE.) This happened to me once. A tiny old lady in a Cubs jacket showed up to our office with a backpack full of money and it was a very intense morning.
Anyway, what I’m saying is that every year, across the span of roughly two weeks, Hardison’s Nana’s church gets their regular $25 check from that nice Mr. Ford, a visit from the very devout but slightly weird Madam Sofia who wants a private choir recital, an enormous check from a bank in the Bahamas with no name attached, a large direct deposit from a heretofore-undiscovered bond the church invested in a decade ago, and a large bag of cash with a dozen donuts on it and a note reading THANK YOU FOR THE NEW ROOF IT WAS VERY SLIPPERY AND FUN. PLEASE BUY STUFFED ANIMALS FOR CHILDREN WHO NEED STUFFED ANIMALS.
summary: y/n is in pain from their monthly cycle. Luckily, the ragbros are here to help!
genre: modern!au, roommates, fluff, flirty kaeya, shy diluc
word count: 1084
With niceties aside, you asked the two bickering Ragnvindr brothers why they bothered to dorm together if they constantly butted heads. Not to mention how their deep pockets could easily afford an apartment in all the major cities of Teyvat.
Unfortunately, you didn’t have their golden family lineage to become a nepotism baby. Hence, why you had to room with not one, but two people to ease up on the rent.
The more hot-tempered of the two muttered about how their father wanted them to find a common ground before they inherited the Dawn Winery company.
Your eye twitched. Damn these rich brats.
That was last semester.
Now, if Kaeya or Diluc went missing, you wouldn’t leave a single stone unturned in the world to find them.
Your eyes danced along the slow-burn romance novel recently recommended to you by your honey-sweet friend, Lisa. She slid it to you across the table with a wink.
Being on the couch bundled up with too many fluffy blankets and reading a smutty book that Barbatos forbade anyone saw was the only reprieve you had the past few days.
You cursed as you doubled over in pain from the cramps.
Gentle tinkering of keys from the front door forced you to shove the book under Kaeaya’s blanket you borrowed – a fuzzy little thing decorated with twinkling snowflakes.
“You’re still awake?”
Speak of the devil.
You giggled softly. “It’s only 8 pm. I’m not a grandma.”
A flash of red caught your eye near the kitchen.
“I beg to differ,” Diluc snorted. “You read your book, ate Pocky, and napped repeatedly. Need I mention that you did that for most of the day?”
You rolled your eyes and pouted. “Try having a uterus for once, you dick bearing man.”
“Right, right.” He opened the microwave with a soft click. “And luckily for you, I cooked dinner.”
You smiled confidently. “That’s why you’re my favorite Ragnvindr!”
Kaeya toed his shoes off and gingerly placed them on the rack, remembering how much you hated it when he tracked in dirt. The last time he did, you forced him to mop the floors and scrub the soles of his shoes with an old toothbrush.
“I didn’t like what just came out of your mouth,” he smirked.
“And where has your mouth been? Your shift at Angel’s Share ended a while ago.” Your eyebrow quirked up.
“Forever painting me as the manwhore...”
You inhaled sharply when you noticed a plastic bag that dangled behind Kaeya.
“You really should treat me kinder, princess! It’s your fault I’m home later than usual.”
He tossed the bag to you. Inside was a pack of chocolates enough to feed a neighborhood of children during Halloween. But of course it wasn’t to give away, but to snack on until you were satiated and done with your monthly cycle.
With a sheepish smile, you hobbled over to Kaeya with a blanket around your shoulders. “You may have knocked Diluc to number two of my favorite Ragnvindrs,” you murmured into his neck as you wrapped your arms around him. Spearmint and a lingering smell of alcohol enveloped you.
Diluc cleared his throat. “Last time I checked there were only two of us. So it looks like I’m in last place.”
To Kaeya’s disappointment you pulled away first. He felt a warm wave of embarrassment at his realization.
You tossed the blanket to the couch and walked over to Diluc. “Well, there's your dad too.”
“You did not just say that,” the brothers exclaimed in unison.
Their reaction egged you even further. “With him on the roster, Mr. R may have just made it to the top of the list.”
The red-head turned around and quickly hoisted you up by the waist. Before you managed to realize that you were up in the air, he plopped you down in a chair.
Diluc wrung his wrists and sat next to you. “Eat up before the food gets cold again.”
Your eyes widened at his sudden display of physical contact. Kaeya was usually the one with touches that lingered on for too long. But after knowing him for months, you realized he seemed to crave skinship from everyone. So, you thought nothing much of it.
Kaeya waving a fork-skewered chunk of the Pile Em’ Up sandwich pulled you back from your thoughts. “I’ll take the first bite if you don’t mind.”
The crunch of the crust and the sight of the cheese stretching made your stomach grumble.
“Hey, get out of here!” You huffed and snatched the fork from his hands. “Take a shower will you, Kaeya? The smell of wine is stuck to you like a second skin.”
With a swift tug at the collar of his shirt, Kaeya was left bare-chested. “Well if you wanted to see me naked, you could’ve just asked…” He purred.
You scrunched your nose from the slight tremble in your core.
It’s the hormones. You told yourself.
Kaeya let out a soft laugh and kissed the crown of your head. “Lighten up will you? You better have a smile on your face and Twilight on the TV by the time I’m done showering.”
Before you knew it, his long strides brought him to the bathroom, leaving you and Diluc alone.
Diluc gave you a small smile and pushed the plate closer to you. “Finish this first because Archons knows how long we’ll be watching.”
The sound of conversations on the television only served as white noise now. As the hours ticked by, your body melted into Kaeya’s chest, the mountain of blankets pushing both of you down into the couch. His lithe fingers massaged your scalp, teetering you into the brink of sleep.
Diluc scooted closer to you and lightly touched your thigh. “Y/n’s asleep again, huh?”
You pried your eyes open, meeting his radiant red ones. “Surely not with you nagging.”
He pulled away quickly. “I apologize—”
You grabbed his wrist. “Keep your hand there. You’re warm.”
Kaeya snorted at his brother’s utter cluelessness with your advances.
Diluc drew small circles with his hand, slowly being accustomed to the comforting warmth the three of you shared.
Something pricked Kaeya’s back. He carefully peeled away from your sleeping form, snickering about you looking like a small kitten, and reached behind him.
Specifically, your borrowed novel from Lisa.
He read the title and tossed it to his brother with a smirk.
Diluc’s eyes widened. His cheeks blooming into a blush.
a/n: getting back into writing again! I love love love soft kaeya and diluc.
So I (finally!) bought a pair of really good noise cancelling headphones, and it has changed my life! It's the fanciest thing I've bought in years, so to recoup some of the cost, I’ve researched & written a little essay based on my experiences with extreme noise sensitivity.
Hypersensitivity to sound is something I’ve dealt with all of my life, but I only recently found out it's medically known a Hyperacusis. (Please note this is a separate condition from Misophonia.) If you consistently struggle to cope with noise, the info below could be helpful! I’m including a link to my ko-fi, and I will be answering questions in the notes.
(skip to the bottom to read fun facts about my tax return and/or street organs vendettas!)
DISCLAIMER: I am not a professional, this is based solely on my experiences as a patient, and on what I have read and been told by professionals. Please notify me if you have corrections or concerns about accuracy!
BACKGROUND: Sensitivity to sound is a common type of sensory issue. While anyone can experience such issues (most people, for example, might be bothered by loud music in a crowded restaurant), some people are more sensitive than others, to the point it becomes a quality-of-life aka a medical issue.
If you consistently struggle with environmental stimuli that other people aren’t bothered by (background noises, bright lights, certain textures and tastes, etc), to the point it causes daily discomfort or limits the environments you can be in, I recommend reading about Sensory Processing Disorder.
SPD and sound sensitivity are both super common in autistic folks (like me!), but allistic (non-autistic) people can experience them too. Weep, ye prisoners of mortal coil, for none are safe, nothing sacred, not in this thy most accursed tomb of human flesh!
SOUND SENSITIVITY or HYPERACUSIS: Noise issues are particularly difficult to navigate in a world that is increasingly...noisy. The relatively new phenomenon of constant overhead music in restaurants, grocery stores, shopping malls etc—all of this means that public spaces are increasingly inaccessible to people with auditory issues.*
As a kid, nothing quite triggered sensory overload/meltdowns for me like the constant exposure to noise I couldn’t control—the background chatter of other kids in the lunchroom, the constant noise in public spaces, being trapped in the car with the radio on.... I had so many fights with my siblings about the car radio, and who got to choose the music.**
But it’s not just loud sounds that are the problem. As an adult who lives alone and works from home***, I’m lucky enough to be able to avoid loud environments most of the time. This does wonders for my general levels of anxiety and discomfort. But even in a mostly controlled environment, I still experience problems. Because part of sound sensitivity is that even normal or quiet sounds can feel loud and intrusive. Here are some “normal” sounds that can cause me discomfort (ranging from annoyance to outright pain, depending on the day):
refrigerator/AC/ceiling lights humming
dishwasher/washing machine noises
ceiling fan making that damn ceiling fan noise
faint sounds of traffic
riding in a car
other people having a normal conversation in the background
someone talking to me in a perfectly normal inside voice
Unfortunately, even in a “controlled” environment, many triggering noises can’t be controlled. And many parts of life can’t be lived in a controlled environment. This presents...some incredibly freaking annoying problems. Luckily there are solutions!
There are sorta some solutions.
They are imperfect, but they help.
TREATMENT: And now I have something rather shame-faced to admit. In all the years of managing my symptoms, it never once occurred to me to see a hearing specialist for my issues with sound. I wasn’t even aware that treatment options exist, because none of my other doctors mentioned it. Instead, I’ve spent years finding my own coping mechanisms and tools, with help from therapists and psychiatrists, but without ever consulting an audiologist/ENT. It was only while researching this post that I found out that was even an option, holy shit.
So it turns out I am going to be making an appointment with my local ENT practice. shit.
Apparently treatment options include sound/acoustic therapy, systematic desensitization/exposure therapy, cognitive behavior therapy, sound machines, and other options that I had no idea even existed, goddammit.
MANAGEMENT: In the meantime, here are my current coping mechanisms. I’ve relied rather heavily on hearing protection, which is very useful when used in moderation. Unfortunately, it can cause its own problems: it’s important not to overuse hearing protection, because in the long-term this can increase your sensitivity. So again: a useful tool, but be careful not to overdo it.
With that in mind, here are some of the coping strategies I’ve used over the last decade to manage my symptoms. This is not a perfect system and you should contact your local ENT clinic for better, long-term solutions, but in the meantime here are some tips I use to just get myself through the damn day:
Regularly spending time in a quiet controlled environment, to allow my nervous system to decompress.
Wearing earplugs, (I use two different grade, depending on the level of noise prevention I need), and always carrying an extra pair in case I need them unexpectedly. I bought a 50 pack for $7 and put spares in all my bags and jacket pockets.
(I mostly use Mack’s Ultra Soft, but there are so many types and materials and brands, including foam, silicone, wax, custom moldable etc. Even if you have trouble wearing things in your ears, you might be able to find something comfortable.)
Similarly: hearing protection earmuffs, the kind used in gun ranges and on construction sites. I bought mine online for $10. they look like normal wireless headphones, so I've never gotten comments when wearing mine in public (other than “cool heaphones” bc i added skull glitter stickers).
Sometimes I wear the earmuffs on top of earplugs, when life is just too damn LOUD.
Listening to music w/ earbuds or headphones is a great way to balance out background noises, especially if you can find soothing playlists that help you concentrate. Also useful to put in just one earbud when you need to pay attention in class/at work.
Pro tip: if your hair is long enough you can wear wireless earbuds without anyone knowing.
White noise, rain noises, ocean noises etc can be helpful! Some people like whale songs although personally this activates my primal fear response
Active noise cancelling headphones: the reason I wrote this post to begin with—I finally bought a pair! As in, a really good pair! As in, a depressingly expensive pair with noise cancelling technology that actually WORKS, holy shit. I probably need to wear them a little less at home (bc overprotection causes problems in the longterm) but they have absolutely transformed my ability to go out in public and i never ever want to take these suckers off again please take a power screwdriver and nail these to my head, bury me in the sweet sweet shroud of silence. holy canoli and cream puffs I want to marry form a civil partnership with these headphones. Plus they have a bunch of features, like being able to control the level of noise cancellation, so I can hold a conversation or be aware of some ambient noise for safety reasons.
Oh, and also they play music I guess?
Sorry sorry I promise this post wasn’t supposed to be me shilling for Big Electronics. I’m just excited, I’m an excited flabby little ball of expired flubber. ANC headphones aren’t a perfect solution, and I still sometimes wear earplugs underneath, and I will always be uncomfortable some of the time, but for me it’s been a big step.
Unfortunately the cost of good quality ANC technology means this isn’t an option for everyone, and the (much cheaper) gunshot protection earmuffs I mentioned earlier still provide an impressive amount of protection and bang-for-your buck (maybe even an equal amount of protection, if you can find ones that fit well). But if noise consistently prevents you from enjoying public space and life in general, and you’ve already tried earmuffs & earplugs and find they don’t offer enough comfort/convenience/protection, and if you’re in a position to save up for a one time non-necessity purchase of $150+, noise cancelling headphones are an option to be aware of. (Please always check the return policy so you can try before you buy. I ended up buying and returning 2 pairs before finding what worked best for me. And please look for a retailer that offers an extended warranty. You want those motherforkers to last).
There are cheaper options available, including some under $50. The ones I tried didn't work as well as my hearing protection earmuffs, but some people report good experiences, so that is something to consider. it's always good to know your options! Passive noise canceling is another affordable alternative.
Medication: A final tool in my toolbox, which for me personally has helped as much as every other method combined. Like, a lot, it’s helped a lot. It turns out some anti-anxiety medications can also help sensory issues. There’s not much research on this, and I only discovered it firsthand when a medication my doctor prescribed for anxiety ended up significantly helping my sensory issues. I no longer need medication for anxiety, but my psychiatrist still prescribes that same medication off-label for my sensory stuff. Ask your psychiatrist to research your options (they will probably have to do some digging to find relevant research, but you deserve to know all your options, even the obscure ones). Fyi, the medication I use is in the benzodiazepines class, but there are other options for those concerned about dependency or side effects.
(I'm also told anti-anxiety supplements may be helpful, though I haven't tried this yet. If you're on prescription meds, always talk to your doctor about contraindications before taking anything over-the-counter.)
So there you have it, my main coping strategies for sound sensitivity! They are not a replacement for medical treatment (except that last one which is in fact...medical treatment), but I find them helpful and I hope some of you will too! I’ve struggled for a long time, and I’m very pleased to have reached the point where I can just do things in public. Eating out in loud restaurants? I can do that now, and even enjoy it, holy shit! I can comfortably travel in cars for hours at a time, and walk around shopping malls and grocery stores with overhead music, and, and —and just exist. It is so so freeing, to feel like maybe, after everything, you are actually allowed to just exist in a world that wasn’t really designed for you.
Again, be careful not to overuse hearing protection—the goal is to allow you to be less uncomfortable and to function better, but if you find you are becoming more sensitive to noise, it is time to dial it back a notch. Or maybe consider listening to music (at a reasonable volume) to block out background noise instead.
*(This also includes people with hearing loss and related issues, btw. While that’s not my area of knowledge, I would welcome it if any of my HoH followers want to share their experiences.)
**A sign of sensory issues that parents often miss is when a child complains about music being too loud—but has no problem listening to their own music at high volume. This is because music that is already familiar to the listener (and that the listener enjoys) is much easier for the brain to process, since it knows what pattern of sounds to expect. Loud music that they get to control can be soothing for people with sound issues, especially when it blocks out background noise and sensations. This is why repetitively playing the same songs can be a helpful form of stimming.
***(working on this blog, actually. since it’s my only source of income, my 2020 income tax return literally lists my occupation as ‘Tumblr Blogger.’ Oddly, my parent didn’t feel this achievement was worth including in the holiday family newsletter.)
bonus fun fact: Charles Babbage aka “father of the computer” may have been autistic and hypersensitive to sound. He definitely had a huge problem with public noise pollution, and spent his later year waging a war on street musicians (and organ grinders in particular).
(bc like, yeah. screw organ grinders.)
Sometimes when I’m out in public and the overhead music is particularly unbearable, I’ll take a moment to look up to the sky and scream out: “HE TRIED TO WARN US! THE FATHER OF COMPUTERS TRIED TO WARN US!!! we should have listened, sweet heaven we should have listened!”
except i don’t scream it, i say it very quietly under my breath
(i have issues with noise)
so yeah that is my short essay. and here is the ko-fi goal
k ciao i gotta go pick out glitter stickers for my headphones
Play With Me
Pairing: Chan x Fem Reader
Summary: Chan is feeling awful needy today. You have to know how badly he’s longing for your attention.
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI due to adult content. Unprotected sex, oral(female receiving), fingering, dom and sub themes(Chan uses ‘mistress’), sub headspace, and some light degradation and praising.
Word Count: 4,500 and some change
Author’s Note: I was talking to someone about sub Chan and here we are. Let’s go.
Tag list: @lee--felix, @lex-thesimpzzz, @nymeriaaa, @hyuckilstan, @9900z, @jess-1404, @weusteezmakes1team, @formysakeamaryllis (Message me if you would like to be added. You’ll be notified when I post.)
Chan was buzzing with excitement. His knee has been bouncing up and down for the last five minutes. It’s nearly six, and that means you are finally on your way home after work. He is forcing himself to put his phone down on the coffee table, scolding himself that he can’t rush time. The phone screen is facing down so he won’t be tempted to check the time again. It’s been about seventeen minutes. That’s enough to tell him you should pull up to his house now. He sits up straighter to peek out the window, but sinks into himself, sighing when he doesn’t hear your car.
You could have left late. Perhaps there is traffic slowing you down. There is that red light on the corner that always stops him. That could be what’s holding you up. Or, the more he thinks to himself, you could be late on purpose to build on his suspense. That sounds like something you would do to him. You have never done that. At least not yet, but there isn’t anything stopping you. Either way, Chan’s heart is going to beat right out of his damn rib cage. He needs you here.
The set of keys jingling has his attention. The deadbolt is being unlocked, causing Chan to rise from his seat long enough to kneel by the coffee table. He knows how you want him when you come home. Chan prides himself on being a good obedient boy for you. He doesn’t need to break your rules. Your rewards for behaving are good enough motivation for him. Besides, early in the relationship, you stated you had no tolerance for brat behavior. The one time he felt rebellious, he got a swift punishment from you. He hates to admit it, but he learned his lesson real quick.
Your voice is velvety smooth when you come through the door. “Mmm. Look at that, my handsome man is waiting for me.”
Chan is feeling bashful, cheeks growing red at the compliment. His eyes are glued to the rug under him because you are making him shy. He has always struggled to accept sweet words from anyone, but with you? It’s worse. He doesn’t know how to handle it. Makes him feel like an awkward teenage boy all over again. You always tell him he’s cute when he gets like this, and Chan’s heart flutters at your words every time.
The bag you have on your arm is left on the table by the door. You’re taking your time hanging up your keys and slipping off your shoes. The journey to him is short, only a handful of steps till you’re standing right in front of him. Chan subtly tucks his hands under his legs to make sure he doesn’t give in to the temptation to touch you without permission. The stockings you have under your skirt look soft. He wants nothing more than to run his hands up and down your legs.
Your fingers are gentle against his cheek. He leans in to caressing, almost saddened when your hand moves to his chin. You’re nothing but all smiles when you force Chan to look up at you. “Hi baby. Do you have a good day?”
He nods. “Yes, mistress. It was a productive day. Finished two songs.”
That was the truth. Building a studio in the spare bedroom has changed Chan’s life since moving in. He’s able to work from home when he wants to, only going in when the company needs him. It’s relaxing the more he thinks about it. He can shut himself away without a single soul interrupting him. Even when you come home, you let him work if he gets caught up in a beat that he is composing. He appreciates it. He doesn’t have to worry about losing that spark of creativity because someone has bugged him.
“I’m proud of you.” Your thumb brushes the bottom lip, and he instinctively opens his mouth for you. He loves the way the smile grows on your face. “You’ll have to let me hear them sometime.”
Truth be told, Chan is going to struggle to have a conversation with you tonight. He feels his focus drifting away with the creeping horniness that plagues him. His cock responded to the simplest of your touches. It’s been a minute since the two of you have gotten some alone time with how busy you have been with work mixed with his own deadline. Chan is hoping you are not too worn out from work to play. You don’t even have to do anything. He will please you. That is an idea he could pitch to you. He has to work up the courage first.
You have asked him a question, and Chan has to ask for clarification. Your hand finds its way into his hair. Chan lets out a content sigh to himself, but forces himself to answer you. He has to be on the best behavior. It’s been a long day and the last thing you need is for him…
You completely interrupted Chan’s thoughts. He blinks. His face is being held right against your crotch. Your clothing is still in the way, but he doesn’t mind. Chan takes a deep inhale before his nose prods at your crotch. You don’t stop him or command him to do anything. He wants to offer anything and everything. He would eat you out right now if you would give him the chance.
Unfortunately, you don’t let him.
After a couple grinds against his face, you release him. He whimpers in his spot, trying to give you his best pout. To no one’s surprise, you just walk away, announcing you want to eat dinner and possibly shower. Chan doesn’t hear the rest as he stares at the floor again. You had to have picked up on how much he needs you right now. You always know when he gets these suffocating aches for you.
But you just denied him.
Now you’re dismissing him, telling him he is free to continue his night how he wants. Chan remains in his spot for a few minutes trying to figure out a game plan. Understanding you can’t read minds, but usually you have caught on by now. He also has to be open to the idea you’re simply not in the mood. He can’t expect you to drop everything for him. There is a sigh that leaves him. He is not giving up just yet. He is going to give you the space to unwind from the day.
Chan gets up from the floor, still deciding what he wants to do. His cock is only half hard. Not too noticeable in his sweats, he has time to find a distraction and calm down. Dinner sounds appetizing. Perhaps he can help you. Make the process easier so you can enjoy your evening sooner. He decides his plan is the right move. Feet now leading him over to you in the other room.
There isn’t much room in the kitchen. He is trying his best to stay out of your way as he helps cut the vegetables up. Now and then he can feel your body brush his while you pass to reach something. He is wondering if what you are doing is intentional. When your hand comes down to his ass, he feels a playful smack. He is smiling to himself. It is intentional. You are a little devil out to tease him today.
The meal that was cooking now has a lid on it to simmer. Chan leans against the counter to watch you as you get engrossed with scrolling through social media on your phone. He knows he shouldn’t stare at you, but he is getting caught up in his infatuation with you. Sometimes he wonders how he got so lucky to have you. You are the woman of his dreams. The excellent partner that cares for him without babying him, helps him be better to himself, but you also provide a safe space where he can truly be himself. Ranging from the workaholic he always has been to the clingy submissive man that thrives off being controlled. You are so selfless to him. Chan wonders if he is doing enough for you.
You look away from your phone, seeing Chan looking over at you. You placed the phone behind you while you call him over. He pushes off the counter to close the distance between the two of you. His touch is gentle when his hands rest on your hips. Your eyes have traveled to his lips. You love his lips. Never missing an opportunity to tell him. Chan has received that compliment before, usually brushing off. However, when you tell him, it changes his outlook. Even keeping a chapstick handy to keep them soft.
There is a moment where he thinks about teasing you with them. Let his lips hover millimeters from your own. Just to be a little playful with you. You appear to be in a good mood. Chan does, quickly smiling to himself when he sees your eyes narrow slightly. It’s all in good fun, especially when you pull back when he does finally try to kiss you.
Chan’s breath gets caught in his throat when you lean forward to crash your lips against his. He loves when you kiss him like this. It’s fiery, full of passion. He’s shamelessly moaning when he feels your tongue slip past his lips. Yes, he has indeed missed you today. Your actions are enough to tell him you have as well.
By the time you pull away, Chan is breathless. Once again, lost in the daze, that is you. He is well aware he is completely smitten with you and you simply eat it up. His heart swells when he hears you tell him you love him. His smile is cheek to cheek. “I love you too. More than you will ever know.”
Chan is kneeling naked in the middle of the bed. His cock was already hard as a rock as he is waiting for you to come in from the bathroom. He thinks he probably looks pathetic being this needy. Honestly, his cock twitches at the idea of you saying that to him. He hopes you do. Call him out, scold him, tease him for being this pitiful. He doesn’t mean to be this direct with you, but he’s still aching to play. Use him. Chan will gladly do whatever you ask of him. Just please use him. The feeling is like a scratch he cannot get relief from. He needs your help. It’s been such a long week with minimal play time and your weekend is still a couple days away. He wishes he could have waited a couple days, but this longing for you is burning him from the inside out.
When you come into the room, you had wrapped yourself up in a towel, pausing when you see him. Chan’s eyes fall to the bedding because he can’t look you in the eye. He’s already being selfish, and that’s scary for him. He can feel his ears burning in embarrassment when you stop near the bed.
God, your voice is so sweet. “Channie? What’s going on, baby?”
“Mistress…” The words trail off. His skin feels hot. It’s the same thoughts coursing through him over and over. Please. For the love of everything, please come and touch him. Chan feels like he’s going to explode from the neediness. Use him to get off. He doesn’t even need to come if you don’t want him to. Just let him play. He can’t stop the small whine in the back of his throat when he speaks again. “Please. Play with me.”
“You sound so damn pitiful. Guilt tripping me like I’m neglecting you.”
No, that’s the last thing Chan wants you to think. It’s him. He is the one that can’t control himself. Chan shakes his head, forcing himself to look at you. “No, I would never.”
When you walk over to the foot of the bed, Chan sits up straighter. He is going to get his answer from you and he is confident you will say yes. He flinches with a gasp when you flick the top of his cock with your fingers. You smile at him before doing it again. It doesn’t hurt, but the shock gets him to react every damn time. “Well, look at my little desperate toy.” You don’t miss the way he tenses up at your words. He loves when you degrade him. “I guess I have to play with you, then. What are you going to do for me?”
“Let me touch you and I’ll make you feel good.”
You drop the towel on the floor. You are completely naked now. Chan almost doesn’t hear you with how caught up he is. “Is that what you want? To touch me?”
The sight is breathtaking as he nods. Truly feels like a fever dream. Reality is that you are here, not only as his partner but a lover as well. There are a lot of emotions rushing Chan. He has a hand outstretched as an offer to join him on the bed. The words pouring out of him make little sense. He is not even sure how many times he has said please tonight.
You don’t appear to mind his babbling, or at least there’s no reaction other than your smile. “Show me, baby.” You place your hand in his. “Show me what you’re dying to do to me.”
Chan feels relief with excitement mixed in. As he pulls you onto the bed, his mind is racing where to start with you. He pushes you on your back, making sure you are comfortable while he hovers over you. He pecks you with light kisses. You let out a content sigh when you feel his lips trailing down your jaw to your neck. Chan sucks lightly on a spot on your collarbone. A safe spot he knows he can leave a mark that you don’t have to struggle to hide.
There are all kinds of sensitive spots along the length of your body. He has them all memorized like the back of his hand. He plans to touch as many as he can when his hands trail down your body. Chan can see your eyes are glued to him as he wraps his lips around a nipple. You let out a moan when you feel his teeth give a light tug on your nipple.
That playful smirk on your face makes him dizzy. “What else do those pretty lips do?”
Chan has a smile of his own as he pulls away. A wave of confidence hits him. “All kinds of things. I’ll show you.”
You let out a noise of approval when his lips attach to your chest again. He is trailing soft kisses down your body, his hands trying to caress every inch he can reach. Your skin is so soft, not to mention receptive to his touch. He can see the way you shiver and goosebumps form when he drags his fingers down.
Chan settles between your legs. Hands pushing your thighs apart to a comfortable distance. He can still see you are watching him when he kisses one of your thighs, working his way closer to your pussy. You always let him leave pretty little love marks and bites here. Tonight is no different. You are mewling at his touch and seconds later Chan feels one of your hands on the back of his head. You are pushing him closer to where you want him.
It’s a warning, he knows. He is taking too much time. He can’t help it. The urge to worship every inch of you is strong. Chan gets caught up, but he knows how to make up for it.
Your hand falls away from him when his fingers run up and down your mound. He is pleased to see you are already getting wet. There is saliva pooling in his mouth. Your hole looks so inviting. He needs to taste you again. It hasn’t even been that long, maybe four days tops, but Chan can never get enough of you. Another beautiful moan leaves you as the second Chan drags his tongue up your folds. His eyes flutter shut as he continues to lap at your pussy. He is not trying to get you off just yet. Slowly wants to work you up to your orgasm. So he can selfishly enjoy when you subtly buck against his tongue, trying to feel him deeper inside of you.
This is when Chan feels the happiest. He thrives off of making you feel good. It’s his goal most days. The sounds you make to the praises that slip out could be enough for him to get off if he tried. Nothing, absolutely nothing, makes Chan prouder than when he makes you come. You are so beautiful when you are lost in pleasure. Even more so when he’s the one that causes it.
“God, that tongue of yours.” Chan pulls away to take the chance to steal a glance at you. Your head is thrown back. Both of your hands are on your breasts. You are teasing yourself with the occasional tug on a nipple. “Give me more, baby.”
Chan complies by slowly slipping two fingers into you. He is quick to find a comfortable pace while his tongue flicks against your clit. You love it when he is fast and messy. Saliva trailing from his mouth down to his fingers. All he can hear are your moans and how wet you have become. You are squirming, trying to buck back against his fingers. Chan knows exactly what he needs to do to send you over the edge into bliss.
“Fuck, Channie. I’m gonna come.”
Those words are music to Chan’s ears. You sound like the needy one now, but Chan would not dare say that to you in this lifetime. Instead, he keeps his thoughts to himself, not letting up his actions. Tongue still aggressively flicking at your clit while his fingers shift their angle to find that perfect spot that makes your toes curl. He can slip a third digit inside of you. His mind goes blank for a second, knowing his cock will soon replace his fingers. All he has to do is make you come.
Your entire body tenses as the wave of pleasure hits you. Your curses fill the room, soon followed up by praise. Chan presses on, determined to let you enjoy it all. Out of nowhere, your thighs move to trap his head in place. Chan doesn’t struggle even with his nose pressed against your pubic bone. You want him there while you are basking in the afterglow of your high. All he can do is keep teasing you, fingers still moving at the intensity you love while his mouth is still attached to your clit. He wants the pleasure to last as long as it can. You deserve it, everything and more. He only stops when you command him to. He freezes, waiting till your thighs move away from him.
Once he pulls back, he admires the view of your pussy. The self-control he has to have while waiting until he has permission to fuck you. That’s when Chan finally noticed he had been rutting against the bed. He can feel the wet spot below him with what pre-cum has pooled there. His cock is aching to be inside of you and it seems you feel the same. Your hand has come down to spread your folds to show off your hole to him. You are teasing him again, but he knows he is seconds away from burying himself deep inside you.
“Go on Channie. I know you want it.” Your voice is sultry. Chan is convinced you are a literal temptation in human form. “You’ve been thinking about this all day, haven’t you?”
Chan does not know if he answered you verbally or just in his head. He focuses all of his attention on guiding himself to your hole as he scoots closer to you. Eyes glued to your wet folds as he presses forward. He loves watching his cock disappear inside of you. Your warm, wet, velvety walls stretch around him, nearly causing Chan to come. He brings a hand to his mouth to bite on a knuckle to keep him focused. The pain is a good enough distraction to pull himself together. He should look anywhere that’s not your pussy, but the way your body tries to keep him buried in you is mesmerizing.
He peels his eyes away, finally able to look at you. You have an eyebrow raised and Chan lets the hand near his face fall. He got caught up in his own little world for a second. He feels himself slipping deeper into himself. Mind going blank again. No thoughts other than the urge to please you. Chan loves this feeling. He is unreachable to the rest of the world until you pull him back to reality during the cuddles after sex. It’s nice. No responsibilities, no deadlines, just your beautiful body that he gets to please.
“You’re gonna be a good boy and make me come on this cock?”
He is nodding with eagerness. “Yes, mistress. I want to make you feel good.”
“You already are, baby. But if you want me to come, I need you to fuck me harder than that. Can you manage that?”
Chan playfully smiles to himself. Of course he can and he is going to prove it to you. Chan’s hands find your thighs to press your knees to your chest. You hook your arms around your knees more to prepare yourself rather than help Chan. He pushes his weight against his palms to get leverage. Hips now snapping back and forth with a sudden aggression. By the sounds you are making, this is what you wanted. Your moans are airy and weak, probably from him knocking the air out of your lungs with each thrust. At least that’s what Chan loves to think. Truth be told, you just can’t breathe deeply when folded like this, but he doesn’t let reality ruin his fantasy.
Your eyes are nearly rolling back into your head the longer he thrusts. You already sound fucked out. “Oh fuck. That’s it, baby. You’re doing so good.”
It’s such a toss up when you speak. Your words mean everything. You are praising him, telling everything he wants to hear. Reassuring him, you enjoy what he is doing to you. Though he already knows you do. The words go straight to his head. There is a struggle to concentrate, meaning he has to fight his body to not come. Thankfully, he gets a moment to collect himself when you tell him to pause, needing a second to adjust to avoid a leg cramp.
He lets go of your thighs, letting them fall around him and hook around his waist. Chan feels you pull him closer, and he knows what you want. His lips are on yours again. The kiss is sloppy, but yet still intimate. He swallows up every moan you make as he builds his pace back up.
You throw your head back in pleasure. It’s Chan’s turn to mutter praises into your ear. The way your body feels, how perfect you take his cock, and how he needs you to come on his cock. You are clinging onto him for dear life. Chan can feel your nails dig into his arm and back. He moans right in your ear before trailing his lips down to your neck. Chan loves he has you trapped under him. He wanted to fuck you senseless till he was too tired to move.
“Don’t hold back. I’m close. Make me come again.”
Chan simply grunts at you in response. He is lost in his head. All he knows is that he needs you to come around his cock. He wants to feel your walls clench around him. His hips moving with aggression to get you there. Your back arches off the bed, and it’s the perfect opportunity for Chan to sneak an arm around you to keep you close. He can feel one of your hands slip down to his ass. He loves the feeling of your nails digging into his skin. It fuels him to keep going. He will follow your commands and give you his all.
You are whimpering in his ear, nearly causing him to fall apart. “Do you wanna come, baby?”
“Yes.” It comes out more desperate than he means it to. Chan takes the time to realize his manners. “Please. Please let me come.”
“Come with me then.”
Your words are music to his ears. The one thing he had been waiting to hear. Your body is trembling under him seconds later and he knows you're coming. He buried his face in the crook of your neck when he felt you coming around his cock. It’s heavenly with how wet you are. The way your walls hug him nearly causes him to black out. Every time you come around his cock, it’s better than before. He swears it’s true.
Chan is finally sent headfirst into his own pleasure. Low groan reverberated through him as you cling to him. His thrusts are sloppy at the end and the second he peaks, he lets himself come deep, deep inside of you. You are moaning again, telling him you feel impossibly full, then complimenting how good he was to you. Chan basks in all the sensations. There is pride swelling in his chest, confident no one else could make you feel this good.
He is smiling into your sweaty skin as he tries to catch his breath. All of his weight is resting on you. He knows you don’t mind. You love laying like this, running your hands over his back and sides while his cock softens inside of you. This is when you gradually pull him back to reality. Whispering even more praises to him. Chan wants to stay here forever if he can. Even if that’s not practical.
“Did you realize there was a lesson I wanted you to learn today?” Chan is baffled. Your words broke the silence in the room and he was unsure what you mean. He pulls back to look at you. You smile when you see the look of confusion on his face. He doesn’t have to wait long for the answer. “I just wanted you to speak up, baby. You have wants and I need you to be vocal about them.”
He looks away from you, bashful again. “I feel guilty, though. I should be content with what you decide.”
“Hey. None of that.” Chan feels your fingers on his chin so you can force him to look back at you. “Now I’m telling you to tell me when you want to play. How about that?”
Well, there is no way he is weaseling out of it if you put it that way. He loves to obey you. Including if it means he has to admit he is horny. He smiles at you. “I promise I’ll speak up more. I’ll tell you when I want you to play with me.”
I don’t know what to call this it’s just MC being protective and feral pt 2
A/N: Do the bros really need protection? No probably not. Do I care? Also no. I write MC op as hell so therefore they can and will deck a demon in the jaw if one messes with their guys.
Warnings and more notes: MC gets called “sir” in Asmo’s part but it’s gn so bloop. Some blood mention in Belphie’s part.
Asmo isn’t sure if he should be mad or impressed or possibly turned out. Maybe all three just to be safe.
You had tagged along with Asmo to shop and some rich lookin snob of a demon was flirting Asmo up, offering him this modeling job or some crap. Normally you’d let it slide. He’s a popular guy but the more this jerk spoke the more your blood boiled and well here you are.
You punched the guy in the gut and he’s curled up on the ground.
“Hand must’ve slipped. My fault.” You sigh and help him up. But keep a grip on his arm for a moment. “Be grateful you piece of shit. If I hear you make one more comment about him being a walking fuck toy I’ll rip your tongue out. Ya hear me?”
“Yes sir!” He nods and you let him go. He quickly gives Asmo his number and runs away.
“Honestly MC. This is nothing new to me. I am the avatar of lust.” Asmo sighs dramatically.
“You are more than some title, Asmo!” You hiss. “You maybe the personification of the sin but there’s more to you than just that!”
You pick up a bag you had dropped and wrap your free arm around him, give him a kiss on the forehead.
“Devildom can freeze over before I let people treat you like some toy.” You mumble to him.
Beel is a big guy. No duh. But unless given a reason he doesn’t really say or do much. Well unless he’s hungry. Duh.
Which makes you jump to defend him much more. Like right now.
Even in the Devildom there’s always those group of girls that gotta have a comment on everybody.
“Careful there, hot stuff. I’d hate for all that food to effect your looks!” One demon girl laughs.
“I work out. So I’m not worried.” Beel states.
“But how can you keep a routine with all this food you eat????”
“Not to mention all the sweets!”
“All this junk food is going to catch up to you, you know.”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP”
You appear behind Beel in a flash when these group of girls crowd around him in the cafeteria. They flinch and step back, recognizing very quickly who you are by the wrathful green glow of your eyes.
“Mind your damn business before I send you back to the plastic surgeon where your faces came from!” You growl, cracking your knuckles to make a point. They freak out and run away without a fight thankfully. You watch them go before checking on Beel.
“You okay?” You ask, sitting beside him. “If they hurt your feelings-!”
“I’m fine, MC.” He smiled. “Don’t go getting into a fight because of me.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.” You grin.
Unlike the other six. Belphie will actually come to you when someone makes a mean comment about him. Then greatly enjoy the show when you track them down.
“Aren’t you going to stop them?!” Luke gawks as he and Belphie watch you fight a demon in the RAD hallways.
“Mmm in a second.” Belphie yawns but the younger Angel saw the amusement in his eyes. When the avatar of sloth sees blood is when he wakes up more and pulls you off the other student. Who’s blood? Not sure. The other student just laid there, not passed out or anything more shocked that he got his ass kicked by a human it seemed.
“Okay MC, that’s enough.” Belphie hums. You stop growling and calm down, spitting blood out of your mouth and fix your uniform when he lets you go.
“You’re the one who told me about it.” You huff.
“Yeah but I’d never hear the end of it if you got seriously hurt because I like watching you get angry.” Belphie shrugs then realized what he just said.
“You what?” You ask with a smirk. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”